Monsignor Quixote Read Online Free PDF Page A

holiday until you are fully satisfied that Father Herrera is aware of all the problems which may exist in your parish, so you can leave your people with complete confidence in his care. The defeat of the Mayor of El Toboso in the recent election seems to indicate that the tide is turning at last in the proper direction and perhaps a young priest with the shrewdness and discretion of Father Herrera (he won golden opinions as well as a doctorate in Moral Theology at Salamanca) will be better able to take advantage of the current than an older man. As you will guess I have written to the Archbishop with regard to your future, and I have small doubt that by the time you return from your holiday we will have found you a sphere of action more suitable than El Toboso and carrying a lesser burden of duties for a priest of your age and rank.’
    It was an even worse letter than Father Quixote had expected, and he waited with growing anxiety for the arrival of Father Herrera. He told Teresa that Father Herrera should take immediate possession of his bedroom and asked her to find, if it were possible, a folding camp bed for the living-room. ‘If you cannot find one,’ he said, ‘the armchair is quite comfortable enough for me. I have slept in it often enough in the afternoon.’
    â€˜If he’s young let him sleep in the armchair.’
    â€˜For the time being he is my guest, Teresa.’
    â€˜What do you mean – for the time being?’
    â€˜I think that the bishop is likely to make him my successor in El Toboso. I am getting old, Teresa.’
    â€˜If you are that old you shouldn’t go gallivanting off – the good God alone knows where. Anyway, don’t expect me to work for another priest.’
    â€˜Give him a chance, Teresa, give him a chance. But don’t on any account tell him the secret of your admirable steaks.’
    Three days passed and Father Herrera arrived. Father Quixote, who had gone to have a chat with the ex-Mayor, found the young priest on the doorstep carrying a smart black suitcase. Teresa was barring his entrance, a kitchen cloth in her hand. Father Herrera was perhaps naturally pale, but he looked agitated and the sun gleamed on his clerical collar. ‘Monsignor Quixote?’ he asked. ‘I am Father Herrera. This woman won’t let me in.’
    â€˜Teresa, Teresa, this is very unkind of you. Where are your manners? This is our guest. Go and get Father Herrera a cup of coffee.’
    â€˜No. Please not. I never drink coffee. It keeps me awake at night.’
    In the sitting-room Father Herrera took the only armchair without hesitation. ‘What a very violent woman,’ he said. ‘I told her that I was sent by the bishop and she said something very rude.’
    â€˜Like all of us, she has her prejudices.’
    â€˜The bishop would not have been pleased.’
    â€˜Well, he didn’t hear her, and we won’t tell him, will we?’
    â€˜I was quite shocked, monsignor.’
    â€˜I wish you wouldn’t call me monsignor. Call me father if you like. I’m old enough to be your father. Have you experience of parish work?’
    â€˜Not directly. I’ve been His Excellency’s secretary for three years. Since I left Salamanca.’
    â€˜You may find it difficult at first. There are many Teresas in El Toboso. But I am sure you will learn very quickly. Your doctorate was in . . . let me remember.’
    â€˜Moral Theology.’
    â€˜Ah, I always found that a very difficult subject. I very nearly failed to pass – even in Madrid.’
    â€˜I see you have Father Heribert Jone on your shelf. A German. All the same, very sound on that subject.’
    â€˜I am afraid I haven’t read him for many years. Moral Theology, as you can imagine, doesn’t play a great part in parish work.’
    â€˜I would have thought it essential. In the confessional.’
    â€˜When the baker comes to me