Unholy Crusade

CHAPTER 6

The Eavesdroppers

WHEN Adam came to, he was lying on his face with his arms outstretched. Picking himself up he found that the palms of his hands were grazed, his knees bruised and that his wrists, from having taken most of his weight as he hit the ground, ached painfully; but otherwise he was uninjured.

Ruefully he saw that one leg of his brand new suit was badly torn at the knee. That, and the fact that he was covered with dust, was ample evidence that he had had a nasty fall, but he had not yet climbed the pyramid. To rejoin Chela and admit that he had funked the climb just because he had fallen down would, he felt, be a shocking loss of face; so, although he was feeling rather groggy, he pulled himself together and walked slowly towards it.

As he did so, it entered his still hazy mind that he might have been unconscious for a considerable time. If so, Chela would already be wondering what had become of him and he ought to rejoin her at once. But a glance at his watch showed him that he could not have been `out' for more than a few minutes, which he found surprising.

Starting up the first staircase, he pondered his vivid memories of the shattering past experience he had just relived. It explained much that had been obscure to him about his vision after he had been knocked down by Senior Enriquez's car, and he was now able to co ordinate the two.

In this recent vision he had relived a period of time that had preceded the other by very nearly a year. It was clear now that after he had succumbed to Itzechuatl's pressure and gone through the ceremony of `Acceptance' on the Pyramid of the Sun, he had been consistently drugged, so that he should appear among the people as entirely carefree and, presumably, happy in the knowledge that when his time as a Man God was up he was to give his life so that they might prosper. In addition, the drug had served Itzechuatl by dulling his prisoner's faculties, so that he would forget the fate awaiting him and not attempt to escape. But he had escaped.

At least, so it seemed; although he could not be certain that he had got away from his pursuers. He was strongly under the

impression that he had succeeded and hoped that in another vision he would learn what had happened to him after Mirolitlit had enabled him to get away in the canoe; yet, at the same time, he dreaded a further revelation, as it might prove that he had been captured, in which case he would have to go through the horror of being ripped apart by Itzechuatl's sacrificial knife.

The thing that puzzled him most was why, in this land of brown skinned Indians, he should have seen himself as a golden haired white man and, when he prayed for help to escape across the lake, it should have been to the Norse gods.

The Pyramid was built in four stages separated by broad terraces. Its steps were not very deep and the slope comparatively gentle; so Adam found it easier going than he had expected. In a quarter of an hour he reached the summit.

When starting up the pyramid his mind had been greatly disturbed by the terrible experience that he had so recently relived. But the bright sunshine, clear air and the exertion of climbing soon brought him back to normal. It was only with curiosity that he looked at the spot where the Chac Mool, on which he had feared he would pour out his life blood, had once stood. He could visualize the scene but it was as though it had been only an act that he had seen in a play.

Unlike the Egyptian pyramids, those in Mexico do not rise to a point; they are truncated and the flat surface at the top of this, the largest of the Mexican pyramids was, perhaps, as much as a quarter of an acre in extent. But it looked very different from when Adam had been there `before'. Then the whole of the centre had been filled by a great, flat roofed temple. Only the broad terrace surrounding it remained unchanged. The temple had been destroyed by the Spaniards and was now just a tangled heap of broken stones.

Slowly he walked right round the terrace. In the clear air he could see for many miles across the Anahuac valley to the great ranges of volcanic mountains that enclosed it. Having enjoyed the wonderful panorama, he began the descent and found going down more trying than coming up, for there was no guard rail and one false step would have sent him rolling from that dizzy height to end up a bundle of broken bones, and probably dying, at the bottom.

Chela was sitting in the car reading a book and smoking a cigar. She exclaimed at his dishevelled state, then commiserated with him on his fall; but, although his wrists were still paining him badly, he assured her that he was unhurt. They drove to the restaurant near the museum where he was able to tidy himself up, and lunched there off Tacos, a very popular Mexican dish consisting of maize pancakes, called tortillas, stuffed with pork, onions and tomatoes, then rolled up and fried.

On leaving the restaurant they found that quite a strong wind had risen, creating a minor dust storm. Each gust lifted little clouds of sand from the ground and blew it most unpleasantly into their faces. As they walked towards the car park, Adam commented that they were lucky it had not been like that in the morning during their long walk round.

Chela agreed, then added, `But this is nothing to what we sometimes have to put up with in the spring. Such a great part of the land is barren and dried up that the high winds collect huge clouds of dust which blow right into Mexico City. Everyone who can afford to leaves the capital and goes down either to Cuernaaca or Acapulco. That reminds me. We usually go down to our house at Cuernavaca at week ends and father wished me to ask you if you would like to come down with us on Friday.' Adam happily accepted, then they got into the car and wound up all the windows.

When they had covered only a few miles on the way back, Chela turned off the smooth, broad motorway on to a bumpy gravel side road that was full of potholes. Ten minutes later they entered small town and, as she pulled up in the little plaza, she said: `You have been to some of our luxury restaurants in Mexico City, seen the lovely homes out at Pedregal and one of the housing states for the favoured white collar workers; now I want to show, you the wretched state in which our rotten government still leaves by far the greater part of the people to live.'

She made no move to get out of the car and they sat in it for a quarter of an hour while Adam took in the scene.

The plaster was peeling from the houses round the square, few of them had windows and the roofs of several were either broken or unskillfully patched. A few bedraggled palm trees threw patches of shade on broken paving and a rusty iron rail. Evidently it was market day, as there were many people about, some leading cows so emaciated that their ribs showed through their hides, others carrying several undersized chickens by a string tied round their legs. There were a few battered cars of ancient vintage, loaded to the roof with fruit and vegetables; but most of the traffic consisted of rickety carts drawn by painfully thin mules or, quite often, a sweating peasant. The people were scantily clad, the colour in the women's dresses long since faded, the once white cotton suits of the men grey with grime, their straw hats frayed and sometimes brimless’. Many of them were in rags and the younger children playing in the dirty gutters were naked.

In the centre of the square there was a statue that had lost an arm. Below it there was a single water faucet at which a small queue was waiting to fill battered two gallon jerry cans. It was composed mostly of children and Adam saw one little boy who could not have been more than seven stagger away with his filled can on his back, supported by a piece of rope that crossed his forehead, his eyes starting from his head.

`Poor little devil!' Adam exclaimed. `It's terrible. After seeing Mexico City I would never have believed it.'

Chela gave a bitter laugh. `I could take you to scores no, hundreds and hundreds of little towns and villages like this. And do you know what they live on? Tortillas and a few vegetables and fruits. They are lucky if they see meat once a month. It's tortillas for breakfast, tortillas for dinner and tortillas for supper. And they haven't even got mills to grind the maize. The men go out to work in the fields while the women pound the maize with a pestle and mortar; then, as they have no electricity or gas or wood, they have to blow their lungs out fanning into flame a miserable little heap of charcoal on which to cook it. Three times a day they do that, and it takes up most of their waking hours. Can you wonder that there are Communists?'

Adam gave her a questioning look. `From the way you speak, one might imagine that you are one.'

Opening the door of the car, she replied cryptically, `Christ was a Communist, wasn't He? Come on; let's go to see the church.'

They walked a short way down the dusty road on one side of which there was a line of stalls selling cheap cotton garments, luridly coloured soft drinks, piles of dangerous looking, homemade sweets and preserved fruits, upon which hordes of flies were feasting.

The church was a fairly large one. Adam was surprised to find it crowded, and that there were as many men as women in it. It was very old and the interior a strange contrast of the beautiful and ugly. The ceiling was a gem of intricate carving, although most of the gold that must once have made it dazzling had flaked away. There was a row of saints in niches, some of which were works of art; and one, he saw with interest, was black, with the features of an Indian. In contrast, grouped round the altar, there were other, smaller, modern figures of saints: cheap, gaudy and with garishly coloured robes. But before all of them were pyramids of thin, lighted candles, which were constantly being added to by the poverty stricken worshippers, paying a peso or two for them out of their hard won earnings.

Chela made her genuflection, then knelt in silent prayer. While

she was doing so, Adam saw that people were queuing up in front the altar and he was quite touched to see a peasant, evidently to father of two small boys, who made them kneel beside him, then sprinkled their heads with Holy Water.

To Adam's surprise Chela remained on her knees for a good ten minutes. As they left the church he said, `I had no idea you were so devout. In people who lead the sort of life you do, that is unusual in these days.'

`It so happens that I am deeply religious,' she replied seriously. but even if I weren't, I should give all the support I could to the church, because it is the only body that strives to better the lot of our down trodden peasantry.'

In his youth, having been brought up as a Presbyterian, Adam had often heard it said that Catholic priests battened on their flocks and extorted the last sou from them to build grandiose churches or send as tribute to the Pope; so he remarked, a shade cynically. `That may be so here; but in Catholic countries in Europe the Church hasn't a record it can be very proud of. For centuries it has deliberately kept its followers in ignorance and played on their superstitions to wring money from them.' 'That is not true,' she retorted sharply. `Religion is a very necessary discipline. Its acceptance prevents the break up of families and enables people to resist many temptations from which, if they gave way to them, crimes would result. The teachings of the Church are based upon a combination of divine revelations and immensely long experience. Therefore, to allow them to be questioned is not for the common good. As for the money side of the poor have few pleasures and one of them is attending the great feasts of the Church. Their impressive pageantry must be paid for and the people make their contributions willingly. Anyhow, in Mexico, ever since the Conquest, the Church has done nothing but good.'

`How about the Inquisition? You must have had that here.' `For a time there were auto da fe, just as there were in Spain, but on nothing like so great a scale. Its only victims in the New World were Portuguese Jews and other European heretics. The Indians benefited so greatly under the rule of the Fathers that the vast majority of them accepted Christianity willingly, made it the focus of their lives and became, in their own way, very devout. Mentally, though, they were and are like children and not fully responsible; so the Church decreed that the Inquisition should not apply to them.'

`I find it surprising that the Indians should have given up their old gods so readily.'

`Well…' Chela hesitated. `They didn't exactly. The Church was clever about that. Just as happened in Europe hundreds of years earlier, it allowed its pagan converts to identify the more beneficent of their gods with Christian saints. That is why you often see statues of saints with Indian features and brown faces in the churches here. But there is no harm in that since their devotees practice the Christian religion.'

By half past three they were back in the city. Chela dropped Adam at his hotel and that evening took him to a party given by one of her friends. There he saw unmistakably that he was by no means the only pebble on her beach. Two good looking Mexicans and an American pursued her with unflagging ardour and she flirted outrageously with all three of them. Adam cut in whenever he could, but they were older friends of hers than he was, and he could not help wondering whether she was having a serious affaire with one or other of them. He tried not to show his jealousy, but doubted if he succeeded.

At this party he met a couple who invited him to one they were giving the following night and, on learning that Chela was going to it, he happily accepted. The following day he did not see her until the evening; so he spent the time visiting the Cathedral and the Museum of History.

On the Friday morning Chela called for him again and they set off for Cuernavaca. It lay some thirty miles away and the road took them up into the highlands south of Mexico City. They climbed to ten thousand feet through grasslands and, even at that height, occasional woods of pine and casuarina trees; then they descended the steep slope to five thousand feet and entered the city.

It too, was on a steep slope and very different from the capital. There were few big modern buildings; the streets were narrow and the houses mostly very old. That of the Enriquezes was near the castle like residence that Cortex had had built and lived in during his declining years. From the street the house appeared tall, narrow and by no means impressive; but it had great depth, with fine, lofty rooms inside, the furnishings of which contrasted strongly with those of the penthouse in the Avenida Presidente Masarik. Here there were Old Masters and fine tapestries on the time darkened wood panelled walls, Indian woven mats on the polished floors, chairs, tables and commodes that had belonged to Spanish hidalgos long since dead; so that Adam felt as though he had entered the house of a nobleman living in an earlier century.

Alongside the house and beyond it there was a charming garden with a large, irregular shaped swimming pool, across a narrow

neck of which was a broad wooden bridge supporting a summer house. As it was a lovely day, they decided to refresh themselves with a swim; so they changed into swimsuits at once and, for the first time, Adam saw Chela almost naked. Never, he decided, had seen a girl with a more beautiful figure and, from the way she arrowed her eyes slightly as she looked at him, he inwardly rejoiced at the thought that, almost certainly, she was admiring is own splendid proportions.

After their swim they sunbathed for a while then, still in their bathing things, lunched under an awning in the garden. It was then time for the siesta, although Adam begrudged the hours that he would be deprived of the sight of the lovely Mexican girl who had so swiftly become his divinity.

At five o'clock they met again downstairs and soon afterwards four other week end guests arrived, all young people who were friends of Chela's. The introductions were barely over when her father joined them. With him he brought a handsome, well set up man with dark, wavy hair and lustrous brown eyes, who looked to be about thirty. He had a strong likeness to Bernadino Enriquez, and Adam was not surprised when it transpired that he was Chela's half brother.

On seeing him she exclaimed, `Why, Ramon, what are you doing here? Why have you left Washington?'

Laughing, he kissed her. `I got in on this morning's plane. A big deal connected with plastics is being negotiated with the United States government, and our Ambassador thought it would be a good idea to send me down to discuss it with father.'

`I should have thought the United States have enough plastics of their own,' she remarked.

`Oh, it's not a deal in that sense,' he replied lightly. `It's a matter of exchanging information on certain secret processes.' After they had had drinks under the awning where Adam and Chela had lunched, all of them except Ramon and his father went up to change into bathing things. When they came out of the house Adam saw that father and son had settled themselves in the summer house on the bridge over the neck of the pool and were in earnest conversation. But he gave them only a glance, as his eyes were all for Chela.

For a while the six young people dived, laughed and plunged about in the broader end of the pool then, after a long swim under water, Adam surfaced to find that Chela had disappeared. Momentarily he was seized with an awful fear that she had perhaps

dived in where it was too shallow, hit her head on the bottom, knocked herself out and failed to come up. Grabbing the diving

board from below, he pulled himself out of the water, threw a leg over the board and swung himself up on to it. From there he could see the whole of that end of the pool. It was lined with blue tiles and the water was clear, but Chela was nowhere to be seen.

He realised then that she must have swum away under the bridge to the far end of the pool. Diving in, he set off after her. A minute later his swift crawl brought him under the bridge and there she was, her back turned to him, not floating or treading water, but hanging with both hands to one of the cross beams supporting the low bridge. Her face was turned upward and she appeared to be listening intently.

At the sound of his approach she swung round, let go with one hand, frowned at him and gestured him to remain silent. Catching at another cross beam he hung there a few feet away from her.

As the water he had churned up ceased to swish, he caught the sound of voices coming down through the floorboards of the summer house. He could not hear all that was said but enough to get the gist of the conversation. The Mexican Ambassador in Washington had been tipped off by the F.B.I. that a revolution was brewing in his country. As security man at the Embassy, Ramon had been sent back to alert his government; but he had come first to inform his father, who was greatly worried at this news and very glad of the warning, as it would enable him to put certain people on guard against possible trouble.

After a few minutes Chela let go her hold on the beam, slid under water and swam away to the narrow end of the pool. Adam promptly followed and they surfaced face to face some fifteen feet on the far side of the bridge.

When she had shaken the water from her face, her wide mouth opened in its dazzling smile and she said, `Wicked of me to eavesdrop, wasn't it? But I love learning other people's secrets, and as Ramon has nothing to do with commerce, I felt certain his unexpected return was not connected with plastics.'

Adam grinned at her a little awkwardly. `Well, as I eavesdropped too, we are birds of a feather. Do you think it likely, though? I mean, the possibility of there being a revolution?'

She shrugged her splendid shoulders. `I doubt it. There are plenty of people both rich and poor who would like to see the present government overthrown and some of them are indiscreet enough to say so. But talk is one thing and action quite another. I shouldn't think this is more than a baseless rumour that some eager beaver American agent has picked up. Best forget it. Come on. I'll race you back to the other end of the pool.'

As she struck out, Adam gave her a good start, caught her up,

then took things easily, gallantly letting her win by a head and shoulders.

When they had all dried themselves and were drinking their first cocktail, a visitor was brought out of the house. He was an elderly, thickset man, with long, lank, silver hair that turned up at the ends and strangely contrasting bushy black eyebrows, Beneath which were a pair of curiously dead looking black eyes. His sallow complexion and hooked nose suggested a dash of Indian blood, although he had the haughty look of a pure bred Spaniard. He was dressed in a dark suit of gabardine. Bernadino and Ramon were still in the summer house but the others all, stood up as the visitor approached and greeted him with deference. It was not until Chela introduced him as Monsignor Don Alberuque that Adam realised that he was a prelate.

As Adam met the glance of those cold, fish like eyes, he felt certain that he had looked into them or a pair extraordinarily like them somewhere before; but he could not remember where. He was, too, suddenly conscious of an instinctive feeling of mingled fear and hatred of their owner, although the Monsignor gave him no grounds whatsoever for such a reaction. On the contrary, he could not have been more polite and charming as he questioned Adam about his impressions of Mexico and offered to do anything in his power to make his stay more enjoyable.

He had a deep, sonorous voice, a ready smile and an agile mind. Tactfully he drew one after the other in the little circle into the conversation, asking after their parents and their recent doings. He drank his martinis with evident enjoyment and, without any trace of the coy wickedness adopted by some priests, conveyed the impression that he was a broad minded man of the world.

Some quarter of an hour after he had joined them he said to Chela, `My daughter, I feel sure your friends will forgive me if I deprive them of you for a few minutes, so that we may have a

short private conversation.'

As she stood up he added with a smile to the others, `Dear Chela is invaluable to me in my work, and I called to solicit her aid in smoothing out an unhappy dissension between two members on the committee of one of our many charities.' Then he took her by the arm and led her away towards the other end of the garden.

By then dusk was falling; so the others finished their drinks and went up to change for dinner.

They assembled again at half past eight, the men in dinner jackets, the girls in long dresses as fashionable as any that could have been seen in Paris. Another hour of drinks and laughing chatter followed, during which Don Alberuque rejoined them.

Then, an hour earlier than they would have done in the capital, they went in to dine.

The meal was of six courses, all carefully chosen, and better, Adam thought, than could have been got in most expensive restaurants. The wines had been shipped from Europe: a Manzanilla with the soup, a Montrachet with the fish, a chateau bottled Lafitte with the roast, champagne with the sweet and a Beerenauslese hock to finish up with. Again there came into Adam's mind the little boy staggering under the weight of the jerry can of water, and the appalling contrast with this feast which, he felt sure, had not been put on simply for him but was an everyday occurrence in this millionaire's household.

When the girls left the men at table, Alberuque at once moved down next to Adam and buttonholed him. In spite of his sudden and instinctive dislike of the Monsignor, the man's mind was so lively and his interest in Adam so evident that it would have been churlish not to respond pleasantly.

To begin with he questioned Adam about his books, his other interests, his early life and, with urbane tact, his religion. To the last Adam replied that he had been brought up as a Presbyterian, then took a slightly cynical pleasure in repeating what he had said to Chela about the Roman Catholic Church keeping its followers in ignorance in order to retain its power over them.

Alberuque shook his massive head. `You are wrong about that, my friend. All through the Dark Ages in Europe it was the Church alone that kept the flame of learning alight. And if we do not allow our people to question the tenets of the Church, that is for their own good. And, religion apart, the Church has played a part unrivalled by any other body as a civilizing influence.'

Greedily picking a couple of Muscat grapes from a nearby dish, he popped them in his thin lipped mouth, chewed them and went on, `Here in Mexico the Church has saved the people from generations of suffering. The Dominican Fathers, who were the first to arrive here, fought the Conquistadores tooth and nail to prevent them from exploiting the Indians. In those times priests were the only lawyers. The Dominicans controlled the Council of the Indies and they appointed the three members of the Audiencia, the Supreme Court here, which had powers even greater than those of the Viceroys. The Fathers' object was to erect a `City of God ' in which all men, irrespective of their colour, would be free and able to secure justice. It was the Church that forced through the laws restricting the encomiendas.'

`What were they?' Adam enquired.

`Soon after the Conquest, the Spaniards divided the country

into districts, making themselves feudal lords on the same pattern as the nobles in Europe. They looked on the Indians on their great estates as serfs, and compelled them to give their labour without payment. The Church could not altogether abolish these ecomiendas, as they were called, but it did persuade the King of Spain to agree to a law that after “two lives” the exploiters should have to surrender their right to use the Indians as slave labour.

`Of course, there were evasions. Many of the Spaniards continued to exploit the simple Indians by selling them goods at exorbitant prices for which they could not pay, then making them continue to work against debts that they could never hope to wipe off; so the encomiendas were not finally abolished until Mexico achieved independence. Even so, the law did result, two generations later, in great numbers of Indians becoming paid workers instead of slaves.

`Then there came the Franciscan friars. They did not concern themselves with the law but were simple missionaries and, like all missionaries, they were aware that the quickest way to convert the heathen was to work for his health and happiness. Three of them walked barefoot all the way from Vera Cruz to Mexico City, and that made an immense impression. Later the Franciscans spread all over the country, often penetrating to places in which no other white man had ever been. They led frugal, pious lives, teaching the Indians such arts as they knew, and acting as righteous judges in all local and family disputes; so that they became greatly revered.

`As in Spain, these friars organised their parishioners into ' guilds, each with a devotion to a certain saint. On the Saint's day his guild put on a play in which angels and devils, knights and Moors fought battles; always, of course, ending in the triumph of Christianity. To be given a part in these spectacles was thought a great honour and to be debarred from participating in them a terrible disgrace. They became the most important thing in village life and in that way the friars were able to exercise great influence for god over the social as well as the religious lives of the people.' Snatching another couple of grapes, Alberuque ate them quickly, spat out the pips and, before Adam could think of any remark, resumed

`Before the coming of the Spaniards, the peasants had enjoyed a form of Communism, by which the land surrounding each village was held in common and plots were allotted to families in relation their capacity to work them. The Church insisted on the maintenance of that system and forbade white men or half castes to live permanently in the villages, to prevent their setting up shops and tempting the Indians to impoverish their food supply by exchanging produce for tawdry goods. It was such measures that caused those who lived in the villages to give absolute obedience to the friars; not because they feared them, but because they really looked on them as representatives on earth of a benign God.

`The health of the people was also cared for, both individually by the secular priests and nationally by the Church. For example, as Mexico is such a mountainous country a great difference exists between the climate and the density of the air at different levels. On average the temperature in Mexico City is twenty five degrees lower than that at Vera Cruz. In consequence, it was found that if Indians were taken from the highlands to work in the lowlands, and vice versa, great numbers of them died from respiratory diseases. The Spanish settlers were interested only in getting cheap labour, but the Church insisted on strict laws being passed to prevent the transfer of workers from their own districts. Of course, in those days, and for several centuries, the Church here was virtually the State. Her power was paramount. It was always exercised for the good of the people, and it still is.'

Adam nodded. `From all you tell me, I appreciate that the Church must have done a lot of good in the old days. But today I imagine it is almost moribund, as it lost all its power when

Mexico became independent.'

`By no means,' Alberuque replied quickly. `There have been periods when it has suffered persecution under atheist governments; but the people have always realised that it is their only protection against exploitation and so remained loyal to it. Do you realise that Miguel Hidalgo, the first man to lead a serious revolution, was a priest?

`For just on three hundred years Mexico had been the milch cow of Spain. The greater part of the silver coinage of today came originally from Mexico. Over four billion dollars' worth of it was sent to Europe. But the Spaniards were not content with that. Thousands of them came here to make fortunes, then went home again. They were known as gachupines wearers of spurs and they were given all the most lucrative jobs, both in the government and in the Church. The Creoles that is, Spaniards who had been born in Mexico they regarded with contempt, and the Indians as cattle.

'Miguel Hidalgo was a Creole. Owing to that he had no hope of ever becoming a Bishop and he intensely resented the privileges that the Spaniards enjoyed. To protect Spanish interests the inhabitants of New Spain were not allowed to cultivate grapes or

olives or to deal in salt or tobacco, or in the ice brought down from the mountains. The Indians were not even permitted to ride a horse, carry arms or work in specialized crafts. But Hidalgo was a born rebel. He did many of these illegal things, read forbidden books and, as the shining light of the Literary Society of Queretaro, brought to its members the doctrines of the French Revolution. then, with the cry of “ Mexico for the Mexicans”, he urged his parishioners to revolt.'

`I've read about that,' Adam put in. But in the rebellion he led made a hopeless mess of things and countenanced an appalling massacre of government troops who had surrendered at Alhondiga.'

`It is true that he was no general; that in the end he was defeated, captured and executed. But the fact remains that all over the country people rose in their thousands to support him; and the reason for that was not only a political one. It was largely because he took as his banner that of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and it is this small town priest whom all Mexicans now honour as the Father of Independence.'

`But that was way back in 1810. Religion was still a great force everywhere.'

`In Mexico it has remained so. Of course, there have been periods when the Church has suffered severely at the hands of her enemies. Under the Constitution brought in by Benito Juarez in 1857 the Church was deprived of all her immense properties, the privileges of the clergy were abolished, priests and nuns were permitted to renounce their vows and education was taken out of the hands of the Church to be conducted by atheist schoolmasters. But persecution only strengthened the ardour of the faithful and their numbers were so great that for three years there was civil war in which they put up a desperate resistance.

`The war disrupted the whole country to such an extent that Porfirio Diaz, who afterwards ruled Mexico for so long, had to make peace with the Church and again allow her to acquire property.

`The Presidents who succeeded Diaz were again of the Left and endeavoured to force their atheism on the country, especially by the new Communist inspired Constitution of 1917 With the Pope's blessing, our Archbishop repudiated the Constitution. The government retaliated by expelling all foreign born priests and nuns, and again closed the parish schools. The Church fought back by ceasing to hold religious services for three years. By 1928 the masses became so desperate at being denied the consolations of religion at they again rose in revolt. The rebellion was called the War of the Cristeros, because the insurgents went into battle against the forces of the atheist President Calles with the cry of “Long live Christ the King”.

`Six Bishops were exiled and the government troops carried out a brutal scorched earth policy in the western provinces where the Cristero rebellion had originated. But the country continued to be in such a state of anarchy that Alvaro Obregon, who was running as Caller's successor, got himself elected only by promising to amend the Constitution in favour of the Church.

`Most unfortunately, before he could take office he was shot by a fanatic. That resulted in a wave of anti clericalism and further persecutions. But the Catholic faith was so widespread and so strong that the atheists found it impossible to suppress. For over ten years a struggle for the restoration of the Church continued; then, at last, in the 1940s, President Camacho publicly admitted that he was a Catholic and brought about a compromise.

`There are still anti clerical laws in force which enable the provinces to limit the number of priests in them, forbid the wearing of clerical garb in public, curtail Catholic education and activities, and no member of the Cabinet is allowed to attend Mass while holding office. But the government recognizes the P.A.N. that is, the Partido Accion National a Catholic party that sends to the legislature delegates who are allowed to put the views of the Church to the Assembly. And ninety five per cent of the people are still practicing Catholics.

`So, you see, you are quite mistaken in thinking that the Church has lost her power. An overwhelming majority of the people would obey their priests if another Miguel Hidalgo appeared and called on them to take up arms against the government.'

At this point Bernadino, who had been talking to his son and the two younger men, broke up the party. When they went upstairs to join the girls, Adam saw that the servants had cleared the drawing room of most of its furniture. A hi fi radio was turned on, to which they danced. There was more champagne and at one o'clock silver salvers of split rolls appeared, upon which had been spread lavish portions of imported foie gras, caviare and smoked salmon. At dinner none of them had drunk more than one glass of each of the wines but, with the cocktails that had preceded the meal and champagne afterwards, they had all consumed enough to make them carefree and merry. A little before two o'clock they gaily exchanged good nights and went happily to bed.

It had been a much longer day than Adam was accustomed to; but, even so, he could not get to sleep. His mind was filled with

mental pictures of Chela swimming, dancing, gravely consulting with Don Alberuque, laughing with her friends, and eavesdropping under the bridge.

Suddenly he caught himself thinking of asking her to become is wife. He thrust the idea aside as absurd; yet it brought home to him how completely he was fascinated by her. He recalled his former resolution not to become embroiled with any woman again until, much later in life, he really felt like settling down; now he was contemplating marrying one whom he had met barely week before.

There was, of course, her intangible resemblance to Mirolitlit; which had convinced him that she was a reincarnation of the long dead Chichimec beauty. But he had seen Mirolitlit only twice and had exchanged no more than a dozen words with her and, although he had now spent several days in Chela's company, he knew about her only that she was a bundle of contradictions devout Christian who held Communist views; a rich man's daughter who indulged herself in every extravagance in spite of the distress she displayed at the poverty of the Indians; a Roman catholic who connived at the Mexican country folk continuing to worship their pagan gods; apparently a playgirl concerned, apart from her religious activities, only with the social round, yet so interested in political secrets that she would play the spy in her own family. What, he wondered, really went on behind the big, blue eyes in that narrow, but splendid, aquiline Aztec head?

As had been the case with Mirolitlit, Chela's physical attraction it him had proved so strong that he had at once felt a craving to possess her; but, still influenced by the rigid morality of his Scottish upbringing, he had instinctively assumed that an unmarried girl of her class would still be a virgin. Again his thoughts turned to asking her to marry him. That she was attracted to him both mentally and physically he felt sure. But, even if she was willing, what about her father? By British standards, Adam was now very well off, but the money he earned was a pittance compared to the great wealth of Bernadino Enriquez. He would most certainly expect his only daughter to marry another millionaire. And even if to please her he consented to the match, Adam was plagued with doubts about whether he could make Chela happy for long. She was accustomed to so much. Her clothes alone must cost a fortune and he could not count on his present success continuing. To an industrialist or the owner of a chain of

shops many ways were open by which he could retain a large part of the profits in his business, but that did not apply to authors. If

they had a bumper year they were allowed to spread their royalties for tax purposes over two years, but no more; so the government took the lion's share earned by any single best seller. Then, if future books flopped, the author could find himself back earning less than a lorry driver. If that happened, how could he possibly

maintain a wife like Chela?

Turning from side to side in the big, canopied bed, he wrestled with the problem, then endeavoured to think of other things. The conversation he had overheard between Ramon and his father had been most intriguing. Had the F.B.I. stumbled on a mare's nest or was a revolution really brewing?

If so, what section of the people was planning to attempt a coup d’etat? Certainly not the Army or the, traditionally Liberal, white collar workers. Both were too pampered to desire a change. Then it must be either the peasants or the capitalists. The former, neglected and half starved, had abundant reason to desire a different state of things; the latter bitterly resented the Socialist restrictions that prevented them from amassing still more wealth. Yet a peasant jacquerie was hardly possible. The Indians formed a brainless mass and, without leaders to inspire them, must remain impotent. The capitalists, on the other hand, had the brains to plan and the money secretly to import weapons with which to arm their workers who, promised sufficient inducements, might form a formidable army. Bernadino had warmly expressed his appreciation of the news his son had brought him and had spoken of warning `certain people' that they should guard against possible trouble. Those `people' must be other big industrialists and key men in his employ who were in the plot and prepared to lead the workers when he gave the word.

That seemed to be the answer, but it was no concern of Adam's. His concern was Chela and again his mind became absorbed by thoughts of her.

The night was thundery and the atmosphere heavy. The window of his room was wide open, but he still could not get enough air. His throat was parched and, owing to the rich spices with which some of the dishes he had eaten at dinner had been seasoned, he felt thirsty. He thought of going into the bathroom to get a drink of water, but decided not to, in case the tap water there was not safe to drink. It then occurred to him that if he went downstairs to the dining room there were several half filled decanter on the sideboard; so he could quench his thirst with a glass of wine. Afterwards he could take a walk round the garden, which would clear his head and later give him a better chance of getting: off to sleep.

Throwing back the bedclothes, he rolled out of bed, put on his dressing gown and, moving very quietly so as not to disturb other people who were asleep, tiptoed down to the ground floor. Strong moonlight coming through the tall windows enabled him to see his way without difficulty. At the bottom of the staircase he was about to turn left towards the dining room when he caught sight of a streak of light coming from a slightly ajar doorway on his right.

The door led, he knew, to a small library and for a moment he thought that the light must have been left on by mistake: so he moved in that direction to switch it off. Then he heard low voices coming from the room. His curiosity aroused about who could be there in the middle of the night, he tiptoed forward. His soft bedroom slippers made no sound on the polished parquet. Holding his breath he advanced to the door. Turning sideways he squinted through the narrow opening between the door and the wall. In a mirror he could now see that the occupants of the room were Monsignor Don Alberuque and Chela.

They were standing near the centre table. On it there was a brief case which Adam recognised as the one that Ramon had brought with him. It was open, so it seemed obvious that Chela had purloined it and that they had either picked or forced its lock.

Alberuque was putting some papers back in it as he said:

`There is nothing here, dear child, to cause us undue anxiety; but you did well to get hold of it for me so that I could have a sight of the Ambassador's report. Upon the other matter the Good Lord will reward you for your excellent sense. That this stranger should have been sent to you at this time is a certain sign that our endeavours have the blessing of the Holy Spirit. I cannot stress too greatly the importance of inducing him to give us his willing aid; so you must secure and bind him to our interests, whatever the cost.'

Pausing, he made the sign of the Cross on her forehead and went on, `From whatever sins you may have to commit in order to achieve this end, I hereby promise in advance to absolve you. With him in our midst as a sign of God's intent, we cannot fail to triumph. You are now, my child, a chosen vessel and I know you will not fail me.'

Withdrawing from the door without making a sound, Adam tiptoed back up the stairs, his mind in a whirl. What were the two of them planning? Had it to do with this rumoured revolution?

'That seemed hardly likely, yet the Church and the wealthy formed alliances against Communists and atheists. But Chela was, apparently, a Communist of a sort, so that did not make sense

either; and she had obviously got hold of her brother's despatch case without his knowledge. Then greatest conundrum of all could it be he to whom Alberuque had referred?

He was no saint or holy man whose participation in some crusade could influence the people, so it seemed most improbable. Yet who else could it be? No other stranger had suddenly come into Chela's life so that it could be said of him that he had been `sent'. Utterly mystified, he got back into his bed, lay pondering for a while, then fell asleep.