The red-haired priest looked around and spotted a girl of no more than seventeen years endeavoring to look busy for her supervisor’s benefit, notwithstanding the lull in business. This, Paire Miquel assumed, was the object of his visit. The priest approached her and addressed her directly.
“Loïsa?” he asked, knowing, already the answer.
“Oc,” she replied, looking pleased that he had addressed her. “I am called Loïsa.”
“Are you acquainted with Mme. Teresa Balterra?” he asked without any preliminary small talk.
“I visited the herb lady on several occasions to consult on—private matters.”
“Loïsa, a woman’s freedom and reputation depend on what I can learn to defend her. Tell me, what kind of help were you seeking from Mme. Balterra?”
“There was a boy, the cabinetmaker’s apprentice, whom I fancied. He didn’t have time for me, and I asked Mme. Teresa for a potion to give him—to stimulate his interest in me.”
“A love potion!” said Pair Miquel, a little disappointed with the answer provided.
The salesgirl interrupted her story by serving the red-haired priest a weak beer with parsley in it. Then she returned to the subject at hand, the love potion. “The concoction, Mme. Balterra said, would make him more amicably disposed. Well, it was supposed to, anyway. One day, I brought a cup of it to his shop, and I guess that it worked.”
“What do you mean, you guess?”
“The next day, he proposed to the blacksmith’s daughter, and today they have a strapping son to bless their union, so I suppose it did work—on her.”
“And how do you feel about this,” said the priest, mildly amused at the unfortunate turn of events.
“I hate her, that ugly witch! May her hair all fall out and her Basque nose sprout a monstrous black wart!”
“Now, now,” said the priest, in an effort to calm the young lady down. “You don’t suppose that Mme. Balterra had any idea which way his disposition would turn?”
“I don’t rightly know, but it seems to me that if someone has that kind of power, they had well better know how to use it!”
“Perhaps so,” agreed the priest, “but did Mme. Belterra ever lead you to suspect that she harbored any ill feelings toward you?”
“No, not at all. Quite the opposite, she always welcomed me with a genuine smile and listened to me with patience and compassion. You know what I think, Paire? I think that some unseen evil force used whatever Mme. Teresa did and twisted it around to accomplish its own purposes!”
“I wouldn’t be too quick to attribute affairs of the heart to the evil one!” said the priest, flashing her a quick smile. “I would wager that he has weightier things with which to concern himself.”
“Well, that’s what he told me, he did. Standin’ right where you are, he looked seriously at me and told me it was the work of the devil to twist around people’s intensions and make it all come out the wrong way!”
“Who told you this?” demanded Paire Miquel, his brow furrowed in sudden interest.
“Why, Brother Lorenzo, of course, when he was in here gathering information for the bishop’s inquiry. He said the devil has all kinds of ways to cause us difficulty and discomfort!”
“Well, I wouldn’t be too sure that Brother Lorenzo knows any more about what the devil wants than you or I. Did he suggest that anyone might have assisted the devil in bringing about his mischief?”
“Oc. He said that most times, people act as the devil’s helpers and that he rewards them by giving them special powers.”
“Powers and skills such as Mme. Balterra possesses?”
“Aye, he said that, and I can surely believe it!”
“And Brother Lorenzo suggested that you might believe all this?”
“Well, he sort of brought it all together for me, but I’ve been able to see it myself for some time!”
“I see,” said the priest, although there were many arguments he could have offered to counter Brother Lorenzo’s assertions. “And do you have a young man in whom you are interested now?”
“Oh, oc, I am engaged to the eldest son of the tinsmith, Sendat. He is very handsome and very rich, and I am quite fortunate to have made such a match!”
“Such good fortune must come from God and not the devil, you might say,” Paire Miquel added with a slight smile.
“Assuredly,” agreed the girl, failing to follow the priest’s line of thought. The young girl had a far-away look in her eyes, as if she were mentally comparing these two young men and wondering what life might have been like if things had gone differently.
With that, Paire Miquel took his leave and retraced his steps to the blacksmith’s hut.
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