E. L. and Mr. S.
Two friends, whom we shall designate by the initials E. L. and Mr S., = the latter very well known for his financial vision and highly cultivated intelligence in banking matters = went, on a long trip, as far as Fatima.
Mr S is Portuguese, but of foreign origin. A very serious man, he is not, so it is said today, much given to believing in miracles.
The two friends went in the same motor car, and went for the outing, laughing in advance at popular credulity. On the way they talked about the miracle, and commented on it, laughing.
At a certain point the petrol they were carrying caught fire. And it caught fire, say the experienced motorists, with nothing to explain the fire: it was raining in torrents, there was no collision, no spark, nothing that apparently explains the phenomenon. It was near a hovel: they faithfully obtained water, and put out the fire.
The journey resumed.
A few kilometres further on, the windscreen — without a collision, without a stone — shattered into thousands of pieces, and the hood of the car was torn off as if a herculean hand had torn it off.
They stopped the car and went back over the road where the mishap had occurred, looking for some wire or tree branch that would explain the case.
No tree at all! Not a shadow of a wire!
And today Mr S. declares that he will not even allow the apparition of Fatima to be spoken of in front of him, because he considers that what happened to them was a punishment for going along laughing at the miracle
Dois amigos, que designaremos pelas iniciaes E. L. e o sr. S.,= este muito conhecido pela sua visão financeira e educadissima intelligencia em assumptos bancarios = foram, de longada, até Fatima.
O sr. S é portuguez, mas de origem estrangeira. Homem muito serio, não é, ao que se diz hoje, muito affeito a crêr em milagres.
Foram os dois amigos no mesmo automovel, e foram pelo passeio, rindo antecipadamente da credice popular. Pelo caminho fallavam no milagre, e commentavam-o, rindo.
A certa altura, a gazolina que levavam, incendiou-se. E incendiou-se, dizem os experimentados automobilistas, sem nada que explique o incendio: chovia a cantaros, não houve choque, nem fagulha, nada, que aparentemente explique o phenomeno. Era ao pé d'um casebre: obtiveram fielmente agua, e apagaram o fogo.
Recomeçou a marcha.
D'ahi a alguns kilometros, o parebrise, — sem um choque, sem uma pedra — fez-se em milhares de bocados, e a capota do carro foi arrancada como se mão herculea a tivesse arrancado.
Pararam o carro, percorreram o caminho onde succedera o desastre, á procura de algum arame ou galho d'arvore que explicasse o caso.
Arvore nenhuma! Arame nem sombra!
E hoje, o sr. S. declara que nem permite que deante d'elle se fale na apparição de Fatima, porque considera que foi castigo, de irem a rir do milagre, o que lhes aconteceu
