The power and the glory by Graham Greene

He was alone in front of the lieutenant "I hereby resolve never more to offend Thee..." It was a formal act, because a man had to be prepared: it was like making your will-and might be as valueless.

"Your name?"

The name of the man in Conception came back to him. He said: "Montez."

"Have you ever seen the priest?"

"No."

"What do you do?"

"I have a little land."

"Are you married?"

"Yes."

"Which is your wife?"

Maria suddenly broke out: "It's me. Why do you want to ask so many questions. Do you think he looks like a priest?" The lieutenant was examining something on the pommel of his saddle: it seemed to be an old photograph. "Let me see your hands," he said.

The priest held them up: they were as hard as a labourer's. Suddenly the lieutenant leant down from the saddle and sniffed at his breath There was complete silence among the villagers-a dangerous silence, because it seemed to convey to the lieutenant a fear.... He stared back at the hollow stubbled face, looked back at the photograph. "All right," he said, "next," and then as the priest stepped aside: "Wait." He put his hand down to Brigida's head and gently tugged at her black stiff hair. He said: "Look up. You know everyone in this village, don't you?"

"Yes," she said.

"Who is that man, then? What's his name?"

"I don't know," the child said. The lieutenant caught his breath. "You don't know his name?" he said. "Is he a stranger?" Maria cried: "Why, the child doesn't know her own name! Ask her who her father is."

"Who's your father?"

The child stared up at the lieutenant and then turned her knowing eyes upon the priest. … Sorry and beg pardon for all my sins," he was repeating to himself with his fingers crossed for luck. The child said: "That's him. There."

"All right," the lieutenant said. "Next." The interrogations went on-name? work? married?-while the sun came up above the forest. The priest stood with his hands clasped in front of him: again death had been postponed: he felt an enormous temptation to throw himself in front of the lieutenant and declare himself-"I am the one you want." Would they shoot him out of hand? A delusive promise of peace tempted him. Far up in the sky a buzzard watched: they must appear from that height as two groups of carnivorous animals who might at any time break into conflict, and it waited there, a tiny black spot, for carrion. Death was not the end of pain-to believe in peace was a kind of heresy.

The last man gave his evidence.

The lieutenant said: "Is no one willing to help?"

They stood silent beside the decayed bandstand. He said: "You heard what happened at Conception. I took a hostage there... and when I found that this priest had been in the neighbourhood I put the man against the nearest tree. I found out because there's always someone who changes his mind-perhaps because somebody at Conception loved the man's wife and wanted him out of the way. It's not my business to look into reasons. I only know we found wine later in Conception.... Perhaps there's somebody in this village who wants your piece of land-or your cow. It's much safer to speak now. Because I'm going to take a hostage from here too." He paused. Then he said: "There's no need even to speak, if he's here among you. Just look at him. No one will know then that it was you who gave him away. He won't know himself if you're afraid of his curses. Now... this is your last chance."

The priest looked at the ground-he wasn't going to make it difficult for the man who gave him away.

"Right," the lieutenant said, "then I shall choose my man. You've brought it on yourselves."

He sat on his horse watching them-one of the policemen had leant his gun against the bandstand and was doing up a puttee. The villagers still stared at the ground: everyone was afraid to catch his eye. He broke out suddenly: "Why won't you trust me? I don't want any of you to die. In my eyes-can't you understand?-you are worth far more than he is. I want to give you"-he made a