But he took his time to answer. "Senor, we are never sure of
anything in this world. Not absolutely sure. Thus, it may come
to pass that you will one day marry, and that your wife will in
due time present you with a son--one that will inherit your
fortune and transmit your name to posterity. And yet, sir, in
this world, you will never know to a certainty that he is your
son."
"Proceed with what you were saying," I returned, with some
dignity.
"Here we are," he continued, "compelled to inhabit this land and
do not meet with proper protection from the infidel. Now, sir,
this is a crying evil, and it is only becoming in one who has the
true faith, and is a loyal subject of the All-Powerful, to point
out with due humility that He is growing very remiss in His
affairs, and is losing a good deal of His prestige. And what,
senor, is at the bottom of it? Favoritism. We know that the
Supreme cannot Himself be everywhere, attending to each little
trick-track that arises in the world--matters altogether beneath
His notice; and that He must, like the President of Venezuela or
the Emperor of Brazil, appoint men--angels if you like--to
conduct His affairs and watch over each district.
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