Oh, how can you make so miserable a mother who loves
you so much?"
In a few moments Antonia returned with the objectionable book.
"My dear grandmother gave it to me," she said. "Look, mi
madre, here is my name in her writing. Is it conceivable that
she would give to your Antonia a book that she ought not to
read?"
The Senora took it in her hands and turned the leaves very
much as a child might turn those of a book in an unknown
tongue, in which there were no illustrations nor anything that
looked the least interesting. It was a pretty volume of
moderate size, bound in purple morocco, and fastened with
gilt clasps.
"I see the word GOD in it very often, Fray Ignatius.
Perhaps, indeed, it is not bad."
"It is a heretic Bible, I am sure. Could anything be more
sinful, more disrespectful to God, more dangerous for a young
girl?" and as he said the words he took it from the Senora's
listless hands, glanced at the obnoxious title-page, and then,
stepping hastily to the hearth, flung the book upon the
burning logs.
With a cry of horror, pain, amazement, all blended, Antonia
sprang towards the fire, but Fray Ignatius stood with
outstretched arms, before it.
"Stand back!" he cried. "To save your soul from eternal
fires, I burn the book that has misled you!"
"Oh, my Bible! Oh, my Bible! Oh, mother! mother!" and
sobbing and crying out in her fear and anger, she fled down
stairs and called the peon Ortiz.
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