He had no time to carry out this plan. When Senior Delmas heard of his son's return to Santa Clara, he leaped, with all a Mexican's jealousy of priests, to the conclusion that Alexander was falling into a Jesuit snare. Driving to the college, he demanded leave to see his son: rules or no rules, he would see his son; and pushing past the porters, he strode into Alexander's room.
“What are you doing here?”
“Doing here, father? Reading for the bar.”
“You are a scoundrel, sir! You are deceiving me; deceiving me, your father! You are entering into league with scoundrels. But I understand their game. You want to be a Jesuit; yes, my son desires to be a Jesuit! Give me no answer, Sir. I won't believe one word you speak.”
“No, father, no; a hundred times no!”
“Ugh! They have ensnared you, and corrupted you. Nino! They have made you think it good to be a Jesuit. Look you, boy! A Jesuit-I would rather see you dead — here at my feet-dead in your shroud-than see you in a Jesuit's frock!”