‘Look around you. He’ll say that Ebrima is a Muslim.’
‘Ebrima is a Christian!’ Carlos protested.
‘They will say he has gone back to his original religion, which is the sin of apostasy, much worse than never having been a Christian in the first place.’
Barney thought Betsy was probably right: the dark colour of Ebrima’s skin would throw suspicion on him regardless of the facts.
Betsy nodded towards Jerónima and her father. ‘Pedro Ruiz reads the books of Erasmus and disputes with Archdeacon Romero about the teachings of the Church.’
Carlos said: ‘But Pedro and Ebrima are here, attending Mass!’
‘Alonso will say they practise their heathen rites at home after dark, with the shutters closed tightly and the doors locked.’
‘Surely Alonso would need evidence?’
‘They will confess.’
Carlos was bewildered. ‘Why would they do that?’
‘You would confess to heresy if you were stripped naked and bound with cords that were slowly tightened until they burst through your skin and began to strip the flesh from your body—’
‘Stop it, I get it.’ Carlos shuddered.
Barney wondered how Betsy knew about the tortures of the inquisition.
Alonso reached his climax, calling for every citizen to join in a new crusade against the infidels right here in their midst. When he had finished, communion began. Looking at the faces of the congregation, Barney thought they seemed uneasy about the sermon. They were good Catholics but they wanted a quiet life, not a crusade. Like Aunt Betsy, they foresaw trouble.
When the service ended and the clergy left the nave in procession, Carlos said to Barney: ‘Come with me while I speak to Villaverde. I feel the need of friendly support.’
Barney willingly followed him as he approached Francisco and bowed. ‘May I beg a moment of your time, Señor, to discuss a matter of great importance?’
Francisco Villaverde was the same age as Betsy: Valentina was the daughter of his second wife. He was sleek and self-satisfied, but not unfriendly. He smiled amiably. ‘Of course.’
Barney saw that Valentina looked bashful. She could guess what was about to happen, even if her father could not.
Carlos said: ‘A year has passed since my father died.’
Barney expected the murmured prayer that his soul would rest in peace that was a conventional courtesy whenever a dead relative was mentioned, but to his surprise Francisco remained silent.
Carlos went on: ‘Everyone can see that my workshop is well run and the enterprise is prospering.’
‘You are to be congratulated,’ said Francisco.
‘Thank you.’
‘What’s your point, young Carlos?’
‘I’m twenty-two, healthy and financially secure. I’m ready to marry. My wife will be loved and cared for.’
‘I’m sure she will. And . . . ?’
‘I humbly ask your permission to call at your house, in the hope that your wonderful daughter, Valentina, might consider me as a suitor.’
Valentina flushed crimson. Her brother gave a grunt that might have been indignation.
Francisco Villaverde’s attitude changed instantly. ‘Absolutely not,’ he said with surprising force.
Carlos was astonished. For a moment he could not speak.
