"As you very well know," he at last began, "your father was the richest man in the province, and, although he was loved and highly respected by many, there were some envious persons who hated him. Your father had a great many enemies among the priests and the Spaniards. Some months after your departure, trouble arose between Don Rafael and Father Dámaso, but I do not know what it was all about. Father Dámaso accused your father of not attending confession. In former times, however, he had never attended confession. Nothing was said about it, and he and the priest were good friends, as you will remember. Furthermore, Don Rafael was a very honorable man and much more upright and just than many who go to confession regularly. He was very conscientious, and, in speaking to me in regard to his troubles with Father Dámaso, used to say: "'Señor Guevara, do you believe that God will forgive a crime, a murder for instance, simply because that crime has been confessed to a priest--confessed to a man who is in duty bound to keep it secret? Will God pardon a man whose repentance is brought about by his cowardly fear of hell? I have a very different opinion of God. I cannot see how one evil can be corrected by another, nor how pardon can be procured by mere idle tears and donations to the Church.' Your father always followed the strictest rules of morality. I may safely say that he never harmed any one, but, on the contrary, always sought by doing good to offset certain unjust deeds committed by your grandfathers. However, his troubles with the priests continued and took on a dangerous aspect. Father Dámaso alluded to him from the pulpit, and, if he did not do so directly by name, it was an oversight on his part, for anything might be expected from a man of his character. I foresaw that sooner or later the affair would have a bad ending."