CHAPTER XXX.
The Voice of the Persecuted.
Before the sun went down, Ibarra put his foot into Elias’s banca on the shore of the lake. He seemed displeased about something, as though he had been opposed or contradicted.
“Pardon me, señor,” said Elias on seeing him. “Pardon me for having ventured to make this appointment with you. I would like to speak with you freely, and here we have no witnesses. We can return within an hour.”
“You are mistaken, friend Elias,” replied Ibarra, trying to smile. “You will have to take me to that town over there, where you see that belfry. Fate obliges me to go there.”
“Fate?”
“Yes; on my way here, I met the alferez. He insisted upon accompanying me. I thought about you, and knew that he would recognize you, and, in order to get rid of him, I told him th
