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72 the miracles of antichrist.
VI
don matteo’s mission
There came an afternoon when the rector, Don
Matteo, slipped his feet into newly polished shoes,
donned a newly brushed soutan, and arranged his
cloak into graceful folds. His face beamed as he
walked up the alley, and when he administered
blessings upon the old women spinning at the doorposts,
it was with motions so soft, as though it were roses
he was distributing.
The alley through which Don Matteo passed was
spanned by at least seven arches, as if every other
house wished to unite itself with its neighbor. It ran
narrow and crooked down the mountain, half staircase
and half street. There was always an overflow in the
gutter, and there lay always plenty of cabbage leaves
and orange peel to slip on. The wash clothes hung
on lines all the way from the earth to the sky. Wet
sleeves and apron-strings were blown by the wind
right into Don Matteo’s face, and it felt disagreeable
and uncanny, as if Don Matteo had been caressed
by a corpse.
At the end of the alley was a small, dark court, and
there Don Matteo saw an old house, before which he
stopped. It was large and square, and almost wholly
without windows. It had two large outside staircases
with immense steps, and two large doors with pon-
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