Meanwhile, the Government showed disapproval of the way affairs were progressing. At the place of the Apparitions some people had erected poles to form an arch, hung with lanterns which they were careful to keep always burning. One night orders were given for some men to pull down these poles, and also cut down the holm oak on which the Apparitions had taken place, and drag it away with them behind a car. In the morning, news of what had happened spread like wildfire. I ran to the place to see if it were true. But what was my delight to find that the poor men had made a mistake, and that instead of cutting down the holm oak, they had carried off one of the others growing nearby! I then asked Our Lady to forgive these poor men and I prayed for their conversion.
Sometime later, on the 13th of May, I don’t remember whether it was 1918 or 1919, news went round at dawn that cavalry men were in Fatima to prevent the people from going to the Cova da Iria. Everybody was alarmed, and came to give me the news, assuring me without any doubt this was to be the last day of my life. Without taking this news too seriously, I set out for the church. When I reached Fatima, I passed between the horses which were all over the church grounds, and went into the church. I heard Mass celebrated by a priest I did not know, received Holy Communion, made my thanksgiving and went back home without anyone saying a single word to me, or that they did not think me worthy of notice. News kept coming in that the troops were trying in vain to keep the people away from the Cova da Iria. In spite of this, I went there too to recite the Rosary. On the way, I was joined by a group of women who had come from a distance. As we drew near the place, two cavalrymen gave their horses a smart crack of the whip and advanced at full speed towards the group. They pulled up beside us and asked where we were going. The women boldly replied that it was none of their business. They whipped the horses again as though they meant to charge forward and trample us underfoot. The women ran in all directions and a moment later I found myself alone with the cavalry men. Then they asked me my name, and I gave it without hesitation. They next asked me if I was the seer, and I said I was. They ordered me to step out onto the middle of the road between the two horses, and proceed in the direction of Fatima.
As we reached the pond I spoke of earlier, a poor woman who lived there and whom I have also mentioned, seeing me coming in the distance between the two horses, ran out as I approached, into the middle of the road, like another Veronica. The soldiers lost no time in getting her out of the way, and the poor woman burst into a flood of tears, loudly bewailing my misfortune. A few paces further on, they stopped and asked me if the woman was my mother. I said she was not. They did not believe me and asked if that house was my home. I again said “No!” Still apparently not believing me, they ordered me to walk a little ahead until I arrived at my parent’s house.
When we reached a plot of ground that lies on the outskirts of Aljustrel, where there was a small spring, and some trenches dug for planting vines, they called a halt and said to one another, probably in order to frighten me: “Here are some open trenches. Let’s cut off her head with one of our swords, and leave her here dead and buried. Then we’ll be finished with this business once and for all.”
When I heard these words, I thought that my last moment had really come, but I was as much at peace as if it did not concern me at all. After a minute or two during which they seemed to be thinking it over, the other replied: “No. We have no authority to do such a thing.”
They ordered me to keep going. So I went straight through our little village, until I arrived at my parents’ house. All the neighbors were at the windows and doors of their houses to see what was going on. Some were laughing and making fun of me, others were lamenting my sorry plight. When we reached my home, they ordered me to call my parents, but they were not at home. One of them dismounted and went to see if my parents were hiding inside. He searched the house but found no one; whereupon he gave orders for me to stay in doors for the rest of the day. Then he mounted his horse and they both rode off.
Late in the afternoon, news went round that the troops had withdrawn, defeated by the people. At sunset, I was praying my Rosary in the Cova da Iria, accompanied by hundreds of people. While I was under arrest, according to what we heard later, some persons went to tell my mother what was happening, and she replied: “If it is true that she saw Our Lady, Our Lady will defend her; and if she is lying, it will serve her right to be punished.” And she remained in peace as before.
Now someone will ask me: And where were your little companions, while all this was going on?” I don’t know. I can recall nothing at all of their whereabouts at that time. Perhaps in view of the news that got abroad, their parents did not allow them at all to leave the house that day.