"I suppose we may as well," sighed Gabriel. Together they crossed the cobbles, a mangy yellow dog trailing them, sniffing the priest's robes. Entering by the veranda, they went directly into Don Fernando's bedroom. He was asleep. Gabriel bent over him, made the sign of the cross, and counted his pulse, the old man's skin cold to his fingers. "It's steady," he whispered to Raul. Fernando opened his eyes. "Is it time for Mass?" he jibed thickly. He disliked Father Gabriel. To his way of thinking, his kind of mental superiority was out of place on an hacienda. It had been Gabriel who had influenced Raul to study abroad. Priests were for women and children. He had been a fool to put money into Raul's education. Education destroyed a man's strength.... Lids barely open, he glared at his son and the priest's bald head. "How are you feeling?" Gabriel asked, avoiding his stare. "Thirsty," said Fernando. Raul poured water from the table bottle and gave the glass to his father. "More water, Father?" "No." "You look rested," said Gabriel. "I'm hungry." "I'll speak to Chavela," said Gabriel, and started to leave the room. "I came to tell you I have taken charge of the hacienda. People are hungry and sick. They can't wait any longer." Raul realized that Gabriel had halted abruptly, to listen. He had spoken distinctly but not loudly. He was not disturbed. He felt ashamed of himself for not declaring himself long ago. His father's eyes flashed with wild anger; his mouth twitched; his jaw dropped; his decayed teeth showed. He raised one hand but it shook, and he shoved it underneath his sheet and tried to sit up. His Adam's apple rose and fell; he gulped and rolled on his pillow. He tried to get one leg out of bed but could not. Patches scabbed his sight; he shook his head but saw his father riding a white range horse. With great difficulty, Fernando made out that Gabriel had returned to his bedside. "Get out," Fernando managed. "Get out!" he shrilled. "It's time Raul managed Petaca," said Gabriel kindly. "You must see it his way. You need to rest." He was alarmed by the man's tortured face. "I am dismissing Pedro Chávez," said Raul. "There will be no more killings on my hacienda." Fernando's eyes were bloodshot; they flicked from left to right; tears oozed at the corners. "God damn you!" he said hoarsely. He puckered his lips to spit, wanting to catch them both. "It's time our sick were cared for, Don Fernando," said Gabriel. "Shut up," said the old man. They waited a few moments longer by his bed. A burro screeched and hollered in a field. A cloud passed over the sun. The old man coughed and faced the ceiling, one hand clenched; the other, beneath the sheet, trembled. Raul tapped Gabriel's arm and they went out. In the patio, Raul said, "It's done now." "He took it hard," said Gabriel. "When it came time to tell him, I couldn't spare him," said Raul. "Such hate," said Gabriel,