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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of An Eagle Flight, by José Rizal
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: An Eagle Flight
+       A Filipino Novel Adapted from Noli Me Tangere
+
+Author: José Rizal
+
+Release Date: December 22, 2008 [EBook #27594]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN EAGLE FLIGHT ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Distributed
+Proofreaders Team at https://www.pgdp.net/
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                        AN EAGLE FLIGHT
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+        I have in this rough work shaped out a man
+        Whom this beneath-world doth embrace and hug
+        With amplest entertainment: my free drift
+        Halts not particularly, but moves itself
+        In a wide sea of wax; no levell'd malice
+        Infects one comma in the course I hold;
+        But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on,
+        Leaving no track behind.
+
+                            Timon of Athens--Act 1, Scene 1.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                        An Eagle Flight
+
+                        A Filipino Novel
+
+                          Adapted from
+
+                       "NOLI ME TANGERE"
+
+
+                               By
+
+                         DR. JOSÉ RIZAL
+
+
+
+
+                            NEW YORK
+
+                    McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO.
+
+                              MCMI
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                        Copyright, 1900,
+                   By McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+    Chapter                                  Page
+
+    I.--The House on the Pasig                  1
+    II.--Crisóstomo Ibarra                      7
+    III.--The Dinner                            9
+    IV.--Heretic and Filibuster                12
+    V.--A Star in the Dark Night               15
+    VI.--Captain Tiago and Maria               17
+    VII.--Idylle                               20
+    VIII.--Reminiscences                       23
+    IX.--Affairs of the Country                25
+    X.--The Pueblo                             30
+    XI.--The Sovereigns                        32
+    XII.--All Saints' Day                      35
+    XIII.--The Little Sacristans               40
+    XIV.--Sisa                                 44
+    XV.--Basilio                               47
+    XVI.--At the Manse                         50
+    XVII.--Story of a Schoolmaster             53
+    XVIII.--The Story of a Mother              57
+    XIX.--The Fishing Party                    63
+    XX.--In the Woods                          71
+    XXI.--With the Philosopher                 79
+    XXII.--The Meeting at the Town Hall        87
+    XXIII.--The Eve of the Féte                94
+    XXIV.--In the Church                      102
+    XXV.--The Sermon                          105
+    XXVI.--The Crane                          109
+    XXVII.--Free Thought                      116
+    XXVIII.--The Banquet                      119
+    XXIX.--Opinions                           126
+    XXX.--The First Cloud                     130
+    XXXI.--His Excellency                     134
+    XXXII.--The Procession                    142
+    XXXIII.--Doña Consolacion                 145
+    XXXIV.--Right and Might                   150
+    XXXV.--Husband and Wife                   156
+    XXXVI.--Projects                          163
+    XXXVII.--Scrutiny and Conscience          165
+    XXXVIII.--The Two Women                   170
+    XXXIX.--The Outlawed                      176
+    XL.--The Enigma                           181
+    XLI.--The Voice of the Persecuted         183
+    XLII.--The Family of Elias                187
+    XLIII.--Il Buon di si Conosce da Mattina  193
+    XLIV.--La Gallera                         196
+    XLV.--A Call                              201
+    XLVI.--A Conspiracy                       204
+    XLVII.--The Catastrophe                   208
+    XLVIII.--Gossip                           212
+    XLIX.--Væ Victis                          217
+    L.--Accurst                               221
+    LI.--Patriotism and Interest              224
+    LII.--Marie Clara Marries                 232
+    LIII.--The Chase on the Lake              242
+    LIV.--Father Dámaso Explains Himself      247
+    LV.--The Nochebuena                       251
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+JOSÉ RIZAL
+
+
+In that horrible drama, the Philippine revolution, one man of
+the purest and noblest character stands out pre-eminently--José
+Rizal--poet, artist, philologue, novelist, above all, patriot; his
+influence might have changed the whole course of events in the islands,
+had not a blind and stupid policy brought about the crime of his death.
+
+This man, of almost pure Tagalo race, was born in 1861, at Calamba,
+in the island of Luzon, on the southern shore of the Laguna de Bay,
+where he grew up in his father's home, under the tutorage of a wise
+and learned native priest, Leontio.
+
+The child's fine nature, expanding in the troublous latter days
+of a long race bondage, was touched early with the fire of genuine
+patriotism. He was eleven when the tragic consequences of the Cavité
+insurrection destroyed any lingering illusions of his people, and
+stirred in them a spirit that has not yet been allayed.
+
+The rising at Cavité, like many others in the islands, was a protest
+against the holding of benefices by friars--a thing forbidden by a
+decree of the Council of Trent, but authorized in the Philippines, by
+papal bulls, until such time as there should be a sufficiency of native
+priests. This time never came. As the friars held the best agricultural
+lands, and had a voice--and that the most authoritative--in civil
+affairs, there developed in the rural districts a veritable feudal
+system, bringing in its train the arrogance and tyranny that like
+conditions develop. It became impossible for the civil authorities
+to carry out measures in opposition to the friars. "The Government
+is an arm, the head is the convent," says the old philosopher of
+Rizal's story.
+
+The rising at Cavité miscarried, and vengeance fell. Dr. Joseph Burgos,
+a saintly old priest, was put to death, and three other native priests
+with him, while many prominent native families were banished. Never
+had the better class of Filipinos been so outraged and aroused, and
+from this time on their purpose was fixed, not to free themselves
+from Spain, not to secede from the church they loved, but to agitate
+ceaselessly for reforms which none of them longer believed could be
+realized without the expulsion of the friars. In the school of this
+purpose, and with the belief on the part of his father and Leontio that
+he was destined to use his life and talents in its behalf, José was
+trained, until he left his home to study in Manila. At the College of
+the Jesuits he carried off all the honors, with special distinction
+in literary work. He wrote a number of odes; and a melodrama in
+verse, the work of his thirteenth year, was successfully played at
+Manila. But he had to wear his honors as an Indian among white men,
+and they made life hard for him. He specially aroused the dislike of
+his Spanish college mates by an ode in which he spoke of his patria. A
+Tagalo had no native land, they contended--only a country.
+
+At twenty Rizal finished his course at Manila, and a few months later
+went to Madrid, where he speedily won the degrees of Ph.D. and M.D.;
+then to Germany--taking here another degree, doing his work in the
+new language, which he mastered as he went along; to Austria, where he
+gained great skill as an oculist; to France, Italy, England--absorbing
+the languages and literature of these countries, doing some fine
+sculpture by way of diversion. But in all this he was single-minded;
+he never lost the voice of his call; he felt more and more keenly
+the contrast between the hard lot of his country and the freedom of
+these lands, and he bore it ill that no one of them even knew about
+her, and the cancer eating away her beauty and strength. At the end
+of this period of study he settled in Berlin, and began his active
+work for his country.
+
+Four years of the socialism and license of the universities had not
+distorted Rizal's political vision; he remained, as he had grown up,
+an opportunist. Not then, nor at any time, did he think his country
+ready for self-government. He saw as her best present good her
+continued union to Spain, "through a stable policy based upon justice
+and community of interests." He asked only for the reforms promised
+again and again by the ministry, and as often frustrated. To plead for
+the lifting of the hand of oppression from the necks of his people,
+he now wrote his first novel, "Noli Me Tangere."
+
+The next year he returned to the Philippines to find himself the
+idol of the natives and a thorn in the flesh of friars and greedy
+officials. The reading of his book was proscribed. He stayed long
+enough to concern himself in a dispute of his townspeople with the
+Dominicans over titles to lands; then finding his efforts vain and his
+safety doubtful, he left for Japan. Here he pursued for some time his
+usual studies; came thence to America, and then crossed to England,
+where he made researches in the British Museum, and edited in Spanish,
+"Sucesos de las Islas Filipinas," by Dr. Antonio de Morga, an important
+work, neglected by the Spaniards, but already edited in English by
+Dean Stanley.
+
+After publishing this work, in Paris, Rizal returned to Spain, where,
+in 1890, he began a series of brilliant pleas for the Philippines,
+in the Solidaridad, a liberal journal published at Barcelona and
+afterward at Madrid. But he roused little sympathy or interest in
+Spain, and his articles, repeated in pamphlets in the Philippines,
+served to make his position more dangerous at home.
+
+Disheartened but steadfast, he retired to Belgium, to write his second
+novel, "El Filibusterismo." "Noli Me Tangere" is a poet's story of his
+people's loves, faults, aspirations, and wrongs; "El Filibusterismo"
+is the work of a student of statecraft, pointing out the way to
+political justice and the development of national life. Inspired,
+it would seem, by his own creation of a future for his country, he
+returned to the Solidaridad, where, in a series of remarkable articles,
+he forecast the ultimate downfall of Spain in the Philippines and
+the rise of his people. This was his crime against the Government:
+for the spirit which in a Spanish boy would not permit a Tagalo to
+have a patria, in a Spaniard grown could not brook the suggestion of
+colonial independence, even in the far future.
+
+And now having poured out these passionate pleas and splendid
+forecasts, Rizal was homesick for this land of his. He went to
+Hong-Kong. Calamba was in revolt. His many friends at the English port
+did everything to keep him; but the call was too persistent. December
+23d, 1891, he wrote to Despujols, then governor-general of the
+Philippines: "If Your Excellency thinks my slight services could be
+of use in pointing out the evils of my country and helping heal the
+wounds reopened by the recent injustices, you need but to say so, and
+trusting in your honor as a gentleman, I will immediately put myself
+at your disposal. If you decline my offer, ... I shall at least be
+conscious of having done all in my power, while seeking the good of
+my country, to preserve her union to Spain through a stable policy
+based upon justice and community of interests."
+
+The governor expressed his gratitude, promised protection, and
+Rizal sailed for Manila. But immediately after his landing he was
+arrested on a charge of sedition, whose source made the governor's
+promise impotent. Nothing could be proved against Rizal; but it was
+not the purpose of his enemies to have him acquitted. A half-way
+sentence was imposed, and he was banished to Dapidan, on the island
+of Mindanao. Despujols was recalled to Spain.
+
+In this exile Rizal spent four years, beloved by the natives, teaching
+them agriculture, treating their sick (the poor without charge),
+improving their schools, and visited from time to time by patients from
+abroad, drawn here by his fame as an oculist. Among these last came
+a Mr. Taufer, a resident of Hong-Kong, and with him his foster-child,
+Josephine Bracken, the daughter of an Irish sergeant. The pretty and
+adventurous girl and the banished patriot fell in love with each other.
+
+These may well have been among the happiest years of Rizal's
+life. He had always been an exile in fact: now that he was one in
+name, strangely enough he was able for the first time to live in
+peace among his brothers under the skies he loved. He sang, in his
+pathetic content:
+
+
+    "Thou dear illusion with thy soothing cup!
+    I taste, and think I am a child again.
+
+    Oh! kindly tempest, favoring winds of heaven,
+    That knew the hour to check my shifting flight,
+    And beat me down upon my native soil,..."
+
+
+Always about his philological studies, he began here a work that
+should be of peculiar interest to us: a treatise on Tagalog verbs, in
+the English language. Did his knowledge of America's growing feeling
+toward Cuba lead him to foresee--as no one else seems to have done--her
+appearance in the Philippines, or was he thinking of England?
+
+At Hong-Kong, and in his brief stays at Manila, Rizal had established
+the Liga Filipina, a society of educated and progressive islanders,
+whose ideas of needed reforms and methods of attaining them were at
+one with his own. His banishment was a warning of danger and checked
+the society's activity.
+
+The Liga was succeeded, in the sense only of followed, by the
+Katipunan,--a native word also meaning league. The makers of this
+"league," though avowing the same purpose as the members of the other,
+were men of very different stamp. Their initiation was a blood-rite:
+they sought immediate independence; they preached a campaign of force,
+if not of violence. That a recent reviewer should have connected
+Dr. Rizal's name with the Katipunan is difficult to understand. Not
+alone are his writings, acts, and character against such a possibility,
+but so also is the testimony of the Spanish archives: for not only
+was it admitted at his final trial that he was not suspected of any
+connection with the Katipunan, but his well-known disapproval of that
+society's premature and violent action was even made a point against
+him. He was so much the more dangerous to the state because he had the
+sagacity to know that the times were not yet ripe for independence,
+and the honesty and purity of purpose to make only demands which the
+state herself well knew to be just.
+
+When the rebellion of 1896 broke out, Rizal, still at Dapidan,
+knew that his life would not long be worth a breath of his beloved
+Philippine air. He asked, therefore, of the Government permission to
+go to Cuba as an army surgeon. It was granted, and he was taken to
+Manila--ovations all along his route--and embarked on the Isla de
+Panay for Barcelona. He carried with him the following letter from
+General Blanco, then governor-general of the Philippines, to the
+Minister of War at Madrid:
+
+
+    Manila, August 30th, 1896.
+
+    Esteemed General and Distinguished Friend:
+
+
+    I recommend to you with genuine interest, Dr. José Rizal,
+    who is leaving for the Peninsula, to place himself at the
+    disposal of the Government as volunteer army surgeon to
+    Cuba. During the four years of his exile at Dapidan, he has
+    conducted himself in the most exemplary manner, and he is in
+    my opinion the more worthy of pardon and consideration, in
+    that he is in no way connected with the extravagant attempts
+    we are now deploring, neither those of conspirators nor of
+    the secret societies that have been formed.
+
+    I have the pleasure to reassure you of my high esteem,
+    and remain,
+
+
+    Your affectionate friend and comrade,
+
+    Ramon Blanco.
+
+
+But as soon as the Isla was on the seas, despatches began to pass
+between Manila and Madrid, and before she reached her port the
+promises, acceptances, and recommendations of the Government officials
+were void. Upon landing, Rizal was immediately arrested and confined
+in the infamous Montjuich prison. Despujols was now military governor
+of Barcelona. The interview of hours which he is said to have had
+with his Filipino prisoner must have been dramatic. Rizal was at
+once re-embarked, on the Colon, and returned to Manila, a state
+prisoner. Blanco was recalled, and Poliavieja, a sworn friend of the
+clericals, was sent out.
+
+Rizal was tried by court-martial, on a charge of sedition and
+rebellion. His guilt was manifestly impossible. Except as a prisoner
+of the state, he had spent only a few weeks in the Philippines since
+his boyhood. His life abroad had been perfectly open, as were all his
+writings. The facts stated in General Blanco's letter to the Minister
+of War were well known to all Rizal's accusers. The best they could
+do was to aver that he had written "depreciative words" against the
+Government and the Church. Some testimony was given against him by men
+who, since the American occupation, have made affidavit that it was
+false and forced from them by torture. Rizal made a splendid defence,
+but he was condemned, and sentenced to the death of a traitor. On that
+day José Rizal y Mercado and Josephine Bracken were married. Then
+the sweetness and strength of his character and his singleness of
+purpose made a beautiful showing. In the night, which his bride spent
+on her knees outside his prison, he wrote a long poem of farewell
+to his patria adorado, fine in its abnegation and exquisite in the
+wanderings of its fancy. He received the ministrations of a Jesuit
+priest. He was perfectly calm. "What is death to me?" he said;
+"I have sown, others are left to reap." At dawn he was shot.
+
+
+
+The poem in which he left a record of his last thoughts was the
+following:
+
+
+    MY LAST THOUGHT.
+
+    Land I adore, farewell! thou land of the southern sun's
+        choosing!
+    Pearl of the Orient seas! our forfeited Garden of Eden!
+    Joyous I yield up for thee my sad life, and were it far
+        brighter,
+    Young, rose-strewn, for thee and thy happiness still would
+        I give it.
+    Far afield, in the din and rush of maddening battle,
+    Others have laid down their lives, nor wavered nor paused in
+    the giving.
+    What matters way or place--the cyprus, the lily, the laurel,
+    Gibbet or open field, the sword or inglorious torture,
+    When 'tis the hearth and the country that call for the life's
+    immolation?
+
+    Dawn's faint lights bar the east, she smiles through the cowl
+        of the darkness,
+    Just as I die. Hast thou need of purple to garnish her pathway?
+    Here is my blood, on the hour! pour it out, and the sun in
+        his rising
+    Mayhap will touch it with gold, will lend it the sheen of
+        his glory.
+
+    Dreams of my childhood and youth, and dreams of my strong
+        young manhood,
+    What were they all but to see, thou gem of the Orient ocean!
+    Tearless thine eyes so deep, unbent, unmarred thy sweet
+        forehead.
+
+    Vision I followed from far, desire that spurred on and
+        consumed me!
+    Greeting! my parting soul cries, and greeting again!... O
+        my country!
+    Beautiful is it to fall, that the vision may rise to
+        fulfilment,
+    Giving my life for thy life, and breathing thine air in
+        the death-throe;
+    Sweet to eternally sleep in thy lap, O land of enchantment!
+
+    If in the deep, rich grass that covers my rest in thy bosom,
+    Some day thou seest upspring a lowly, tremulous blossom,
+    Lay there thy lips, 'tis my soul; may I feel on my forehead
+        descending,
+    Deep in the chilly tomb, the soft, warm breath of thy kisses.
+    Let the calm light of the moon fall around me, and dawn's
+    fleeting splendor;
+    Let the winds murmur and sigh, on my cross let some bird tell
+    its message;
+    Loosed from the rain by the brazen sun, let clouds of soft
+        vapor
+    Bear to the skies, as they mount again, the chant of my spirit.
+    There may some friendly heart lament my parting untimely,
+    And if at eventide a soul for my tranquil sleep prayeth,
+    Pray thou too, O my fatherland! for my peaceful reposing.
+    Pray for those who go down to death through unspeakable
+        torments;
+    Pray for those who remain to suffer such torture in prisons;
+    Pray for the bitter grief of our mothers, our widows,
+    our orphans;
+    Oh, pray too for thyself, on the way to thy final redemption.
+
+    When our still dwelling-place wraps night's dusky mantle
+        about her,
+    Leaving the dead alone with the dead, to watch till the
+        morning,
+    Break not our rest, and seek not to lay death's mystery open.
+    If now and then thou shouldst hear the string of a lute or
+        a zithern,
+    Mine is the hand, dear country, and mine is the voice that
+        is singing.
+
+    When my tomb, that all have forgot, no cross nor stone marketh,
+    There let the laborer guide his plough, there cleave the
+        earth open.
+    So shall my ashes at last be one with thy hills and thy
+        valleys.
+    Little 'twill matter then, my country, that thou shouldst
+        forget me!
+    I shall be air in thy streets, and I shall be space in thy
+        meadows.
+    I shall be vibrant speech in thine ears, shall be fragrance
+        and color,
+    Light and shout, and loved song forever repeating my message.
+
+
+Rizal's own explanation of the lofty purpose of his searching story
+of his Tagalog fatherland was in these words of his dedicatory preface:
+
+
+
+TO MY COUNTRY
+
+The records of human suffering make known to us the existence of
+ailments of such nature that the slightest touch irritates and causes
+tormenting pains. Whenever, in the midst of modern civilizations,
+I have tried to call up thy dear image, O my country! either for the
+comradeship of remembrance or to compare thy life with that about
+me, I have seen thy fair face disfigured and distorted by a hideous
+social cancer.
+
+Eager for thy health, which is our happiness, and seeking the best
+remedy for thy pain, I am about to do with thee what the ancients did
+with their sick: they exposed them on the steps of their temples, that
+every one who came to adore the divinity within might offer a remedy.
+
+So I shall strive to describe faithfully thy state without extenuation;
+to lift a corner of the covering that hides thy sore; sacrificing
+everything to truth, even the love of thy glory, while loving, as
+thy son, even thy frailties and sins.
+
+José Rizal.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+AN EAGLE FLIGHT
+
+I.
+
+THE HOUSE ON THE PASIG.
+
+
+It was toward the end of October. Don Santiago de los Santos, better
+known as Captain Tiago, was giving a dinner; and though, contrary to
+custom, he had not announced it until that very afternoon, it had
+become before evening the sole topic of conversation, not only at
+Binondo, but in the other suburbs of Manila, and even in the city
+itself. Captain Tiago passed for the most lavish of entertainers,
+and it was well known that the doors of his home, like those of his
+country, were closed to nobody and nothing save commerce and all
+new or audacious ideas. The news spread, therefore, with lightning
+rapidity in the world of the sycophants, the unemployed and idle,
+whom heaven has multiplied so generously at Manila.
+
+The dinner was given in a house of the Calle de Anloague, which
+may yet be recognized, if an earthquake has not demolished it. This
+house, rather large and of a style common to the country, stood near
+an arm of the Pasig, called the Boco de Binondo, a rio which, like
+all others of Manila, washing along the multiple output of baths,
+sewers, and fishing grounds serves as a means of transport, and even
+furnishes drinking-water, if such be the humor of the Chinese carrier.
+Scarcely at intervals of a half-mile is this powerful artery of the
+quarter where the traffic is most important, the movement most active,
+dotted with bridges; and these, in ruins at one end six months of
+the year and inapproachable the remaining six at the other, give
+horses a pretext for plunging into the water, to the great surprise of
+preoccupied mortals in carriages dozing tranquilly or philosophizing
+on the progress of the century.
+
+The house of Captain Tiago was rather low and on lines sufficiently
+incorrect. A grand staircase with green balustrades, carpeted at
+intervals, led from the vestibule, with its squares of colored faience,
+to the main floor, between Chinese pedestals ornamented with fantastic
+designs, supporting vases and jardinières of flowers.
+
+At the top of the staircase was a large apartment, called here caida,
+which for this night served at once as dining- and music-room. In the
+centre, a long table, luxuriously set, seemed to promise to diners-out
+the most soothing satisfaction, at the same time threatening the
+timid girl--the dalaga--who for six mortal hours must submit to the
+companionship of strange and diverse people.
+
+In contrast to these mundane preparations, richly colored pictures
+of religious subjects hung about the walls, and at the end of the
+apartment, imprisoned in ornate and splendid Renaissance carving,
+was a curious canvas of vast dimensions, bearing the inscription,
+"Our Lady of Peace and of Safe Journeys, Venerated at Antipolo." The
+ceiling was prettily decorated with jewelled Chinese lamps, cages
+without birds, spheres of crystal faced with colored foil, faded air
+plants, botetes, etc. On the river side, through fantastic arches, half
+Chinese, half European, were glimpses of a terrace, with trellises and
+arbors, illuminated by little colored lanterns. Brilliant chandeliers,
+reflected in great mirrors, lighted the apartment. On a platform of
+pine was a superb grand piano. In a panel of the wall, a large portrait
+in oil represented a man of agreeable face, in frock coat, robust,
+straight, symmetrical as the gavel between his jewelled fingers.
+
+The crowd of guests almost filled the room; the men separated from
+the women, as in Catholic churches and synagogues. An old cousin
+of Captain Tiago's was receiving alone. Her appearance was kindly,
+but her tongue not very flexible to the Castilian. She filled her
+rôle by offering to the Spaniards trays of cigarettes and buyos, and
+giving the Filipinos her hand to kiss. The poor old lady, wearied at
+last, profited by the sound of breaking china to go out hurriedly,
+grumbling at maladroits. She did not reappear.
+
+Whether the pictures roused a spirit of devotion, whether the women
+of the Philippines are exceptional, the feminine part of the assembly
+remained silent. Scarcely was heard even a yawn, stifled behind a
+fan. The men made more stir. The most interesting and animated group
+was formed by two monks, two Spanish provincials, and an officer,
+seated round a little table, on which were wine and English biscuits.
+
+The officer, an old lieutenant, tall and morose, looked a Duke of Alba,
+retired into the Municipal Guard. He spoke little and dryly. One of the
+monks was a young Dominican, handsome, brilliant, precociously grave;
+it was the curate of Binondo. Consummate dialectician, he could escape
+from a distinguo like an eel from a fisherman's nets. He spoke seldom,
+and seemed to weigh his words.
+
+The other monk talked much and gestured more. Though his hair was
+turning gray, he seemed to have preserved all his vigor. His carriage,
+his glance, his large jaws, his herculean frame, gave him the air of a
+Roman patrician in disguise. Yet he seemed genial, and if the timbre
+of his voice was autocratic, his frank and merry laugh removed any
+disagreeable impression, so far even that one pardoned his appearing
+in the salon with unshod feet.
+
+One of the provincials, a little man with a black beard, had nothing
+remarkable about him but his nose, which, to judge from its size,
+ought not to have belonged to him entire. The other, young and blond,
+seemed newly arrived in the country. The Franciscan was conversing
+with him somewhat warmly.
+
+"You will see," said he, "when you have been here several months;
+you will be convinced that to legislate at Madrid and to execute in
+the Philippines is not one and the same thing."
+
+"But----"
+
+"I, for example," continued Brother Dámaso, raising his voice to
+cut off the words of his objector, "I, who count twenty-three years
+of plane and palm, can speak with authority. I spent twenty years
+in one pueblo. In twenty years one gets acquainted with a town. San
+Diego had six thousand souls. I knew each inhabitant as if I'd borne
+and reared him--with which foot this one limped, how that one's pot
+boiled--and I tell you the reforms proposed by the Ministers are
+absurd. The Indian is too indolent!"
+
+"Ah, pardon me," said the young man, speaking low and drawing nearer;
+"that word rouses all my interest. Does it really exist from birth,
+this indolence of the native, or is it, as some travellers say, only an
+excuse of our own for the lack of advancement in our colonial policy?"
+
+"Bah! ask Señor Laruja, who also knows the country well; ask him if
+the ignorance and idleness of the Indians are not unparalleled?"
+
+"In truth!" the little dark man made haste to affirm; "nowhere will
+you find men more careless."
+
+"Nor more corrupt, nor more ungrateful."
+
+"Nor more ill-bred."
+
+The young man looked about uneasily. "Gentlemen," said he, still
+speaking low, "it seems to me we are the guests of Indians, and that
+these young ladies----"
+
+"Bah, you are too timid: Santiago does not consider himself an Indian,
+besides, he isn't here. These are the scruples of a newcomer. Wait a
+little. When you have slept in our strapped beds, eaten the tinola,
+and seen our balls and fêtes, you'll change your tone. And more, you
+will find that the country is going to ruin; she is ruined already!"
+
+"What does your reverence mean?" cried the lieutenant and Dominican
+together.
+
+"The evil all comes from the fact that the Government sustains
+wrong-doers in the face of the ministers of God," continued the
+Franciscan, raising his voice and facing about. "When a curate rids
+his cemetery of a malefactor, no one, not even the king, has the right
+to interfere; and a wretched general, a petty general from nowhere----"
+
+"Father, His Excellency is viceroy," said the officer, rising. "His
+Excellency represents His Majesty the king."
+
+"What Excellency?" retorted the Franciscan, rising in turn. "Who is
+this king? For us there is but one King, the legitimate----"
+
+"If you do not retract that, Father, I shall make it known to the
+governor-general," cried the lieutenant.
+
+"Go to him now, go!" retorted Father Dámaso; "I'll loan you my
+carriage."
+
+The Dominican interposed.
+
+"Señores," said he in a tone of authority, "you should not confuse
+things, nor seek offence where there is none intended. We must
+distinguish in the words of Father Dámaso those of the man from those
+of the priest. The latter per se can never offend, because they are
+infallible. In the words of the man, a sub-distinction must be made,
+into those said ab irato, those said ex ore, but not in corde, and
+those said in corde. It is these last only that can offend, and even
+then everything depends. If they were not premeditated in mente,
+but simply arose per accidens in the heat of the conversation----"
+
+At this interesting point there joined the group an old Spaniard,
+gentle and inoffensive of aspect. He was lame, and leaned on
+the arm of an old native woman, smothered in curls and frizzes,
+preposterously powdered, and in European dress. With relief every
+one turned to salute them. It was Doctor de Espadaña and his wife,
+the Doctora Doña Victorina. The atmosphere cleared.
+
+"Which, Señor Laruja, is the master of the house?" asked the young
+provincial. "I haven't been presented."
+
+"They say he has gone out."
+
+"No presentations are necessary here," said Brother Dámaso; "Santiago
+is a good fellow."
+
+Er hat das Pulfer nicht erfunden. "He didn't invent gunpowder,"
+added Laruja.
+
+"What, you too, Señor de Laruja?" said Doña Victorina over her
+fan. "How could the poor man have invented gunpowder when, if what
+they say is true, the Chinese made it centuries ago?"
+
+"The Chinese? 'Twas a Franciscan who invented it," said Brother Dámaso.
+
+"A Franciscan, no doubt; he must have been a missionary to China,"
+said the Señora, not disposed to abandon her idea.
+
+"Who is this with Santiago?" asked the lieutenant. Every one looked
+toward the door, where two men had just entered. They came up to the
+group around the table.
+
+
+
+
+
+II.
+
+CRISÓSTOMO IBARRA.
+
+
+One was the original of the portrait in oil, and he led by the hand
+a young man in deep black. "Good evening, señores; good evening,
+fathers," said Captain Tiago, kissing the hands of the priests,
+"I have the honor of presenting to you Don Crisóstomo Ibarra."
+
+At the name of Ibarra there were smothered exclamations. The
+lieutenant, forgetting to salute the master of the house, surveyed
+the young man from head to foot. Brother Dámaso seemed petrified. The
+arrival was evidently unexpected. Señor Ibarra exchanged the usual
+phrases with members of the group. Nothing marked him from other guests
+save his black attire. His fine height, his manner, his movements,
+denoted sane and vigorous youth. His face, frank and engaging, of a
+rich brown, and lightly furrowed--trace of Spanish blood--was rosy
+from a sojourn in the north.
+
+"Ah!" he cried, surprised and delighted, "my father's old friend,
+Brother Dámaso!"
+
+All eyes turned toward the Franciscan, who did not stir.
+
+"Pardon," said Ibarra, puzzled. "I am mistaken."
+
+"You are not mistaken," said the priest at last, in an odd voice;
+"but your father was not my friend."
+
+Ibarra, astonished, drew slowly back the hand he had offered, and
+turned to find himself facing the lieutenant, whose eyes had never
+left him.
+
+"Young man, are you the son of Don Rafael Ibarra?"
+
+Crisóstomo bowed.
+
+"Then welcome to your country! I knew your father well, one of the
+most honorable men of the Philippines."
+
+"Señor," replied Ibarra, "what you say dispels my doubts as to his
+fate, of which as yet I know nothing."
+
+The old man's eyes filled with tears. He turned away to hide them,
+and moved off into the crowd.
+
+The master of the house had disappeared. Ibarra was left alone in the
+middle of the room. No one presented him to the ladies. He hesitated
+a moment, then went up to them and said:
+
+"Permit me to forget formalities, and salute the first of my
+countrywomen I have seen for years."
+
+No one spoke, though many eyes regarded him with interest. Ibarra
+turned away, and a jovial man, in native dress, with studs of
+brilliants down his shirt-front, almost ran up to say:
+
+"Señor Ibarra, I wish to know you. I am Captain Tinong, and live near
+you at Tondo. Will you honor us at dinner to-morrow?"
+
+"Thank you," said Ibarra, pleased with the kindness, "but to-morrow
+I must leave for San Diego."
+
+"What a pity! Well then, on your return----"
+
+"Dinner is served," announced a waiter of the Café La Campana.
+
+The guests began to move toward the table, not without much ceremony
+on the part of the ladies, especially the natives, who required a
+great deal of polite urging.
+
+
+
+
+
+III.
+
+THE DINNER.
+
+
+The two monks finding themselves near the head of the table, like
+two candidates for a vacant office, began politely resigning in each
+other's favor.
+
+"This is your place, Brother Dámaso."
+
+"No, yours, Brother Sibyla."
+
+"You are so much the older friend of the family."
+
+"But you are the curate of the quarter."
+
+This polite contention settled, the guests sat down, no one but Ibarra
+seeming to think of the master of the house.
+
+"What," said he, "you're not to be with us, Don Santiago?"
+
+But there was no place: Lucullus was not dining with Lucullus.
+
+"Don't trouble yourself," said Captain Tiago, laying his hand on the
+young man's shoulder. "This feast is a thank-offering for your safe
+return. Ho, there! bring the tinola! I've ordered the tinola expressly
+for you, Crisóstomo."
+
+"When did you leave the country?" Laruja asked Ibarra.
+
+"Seven years ago."
+
+"Then you must have almost forgotten it."
+
+"On the contrary, it has been always in my thoughts; but my country
+seems to have forgotten me."
+
+"Why do you say that?" asked the old lieutenant.
+
+"Because for several months I have had no news, so that I do not even
+know how and when my father died."
+
+The lieutenant could not repress a groan.
+
+"And where were you that they couldn't telegraph you?" asked Doña
+Victorina. "When we were married, we sent despatches to the peninsula."
+
+"Señora, I was in the far north," said Ibarra.
+
+"You have travelled much," said the blond provincial; "which of the
+European countries pleased you most?"
+
+"After Spain, my second country, the nations that are free."
+
+"And what struck you as most interesting, most surprising, in the
+general life of nations--the genius of each, so to put it?" asked
+Laruja.
+
+Ibarra reflected.
+
+"Before visiting a country I carefully studied its history, and,
+except the different motives for national pride, there seems to
+me nothing surprisingly characteristic in any nation. Given its
+history, everything appears natural; each people's wealth and misery
+seem in direct proportion to its freedom and its prejudices, and in
+consequence, in proportion to the self-sacrifice or selfishness of
+its progenitors."
+
+"Did you discover nothing more startling than that?" demanded
+the Franciscan, with a mocking laugh. "It was hardly worth while
+squandering money for so slight returns. Not a schoolboy but knows
+as much."
+
+The guests eyed one another, fearful of what might follow. Ibarra,
+astonished, remained silent a moment, then said quietly:
+
+"Señores, do not wonder at these words of Brother Dámaso. He was my
+curate when I was a little boy, and with his reverence the years don't
+count. I thank him for thus recalling the time when he was often an
+honored guest at my father's table."
+
+Brother Sibyla furtively observed the Franciscan, who was trembling
+slightly. At the first possible opportunity Ibarra rose.
+
+"You will pardon me if I excuse myself," he said. "I arrived only
+a few hours ago, and have matters of importance to attend to. The
+dinner is over. I drink little wine, and scarcely taste liquors." And
+raising a glass as yet untouched, "Señores," he said, "Spain and the
+Philippines forever!"
+
+"You're not going!" said Santiago in amazement. "Maria Clara and her
+friends will be with us in a moment. What shall I say to her?"
+
+"That I was obliged to go," said Ibarra, "and that I'm coming early
+in the morning." And he went out.
+
+The Franciscan unburdened himself.
+
+"You saw his arrogance," he said to the blond provincial. "These young
+fellows won't take reproof from a priest. That comes of sending them
+to Europe. The Government ought to prohibit it."
+
+That night the young provincial added to his "Colonial Studies,"
+this paragraph: "In the Philippines, the least important person at a
+feast is he who gives it. You begin by showing your host to the door,
+and all goes merrily.... In the present state of affairs, it would
+be almost a kindness to prohibit young Filipinos from leaving their
+country, if not even from learning to read."
+
+
+
+
+
+IV.
+
+HERETIC AND FILIBUSTER.
+
+
+Ibarra stood outside the house of Captain Tiago. The night wind,
+which at this season brings a bit of freshness to Manila, seemed to
+blow away the cloud that had darkened his face. Carriages passed
+him like streaks of light, hired calashes rolled slowly by, and
+foot-passengers of all nationalities jostled one another. With the
+rambling gait of the preoccupied or the idle, he took his way toward
+the Plaza de Binondo. Nothing was changed. It was the same street,
+with the same blue and white houses, the same white walls with their
+slate-colored fresco, poor imitations of granite. The church tower
+showed the same clock with transparent face. The Chinese shop had
+the same soiled curtains, the same iron triangles. One day, long ago,
+imitating the street urchins of Manila, he had twisted one of these
+triangles: nobody had ever straightened it. "How little progress!" he
+murmured; and he followed the Calle de la Sacristia, pursued by the
+cry of sherbet venders.
+
+"Marvellous!" he thought; "one would say my voyage was a dream. Santo
+Dios! the street is as bad as when I went away."
+
+While he contemplated this marvel of urban stability in an unstable
+country, a hand fell lightly on his shoulder. He looked up and
+recognized the old lieutenant. His face had put off its expression
+of sternness, and he smiled kindly at Crisóstomo.
+
+"Young man," he said, "I was your father's friend: I wish you to
+consider me yours."
+
+"You seem to have known my father well," said Crisóstomo; "perhaps
+you can tell me something of his death."
+
+"You do not know about it?"
+
+"Nothing at all, and Don Santiago would not talk with me till
+to-morrow."
+
+"You know, of course, where he died."
+
+"Not even that."
+
+Lieutenant Guevara hesitated.
+
+"I am an old soldier," he said at last, in a voice full of compassion,
+"and only know how to say bluntly what I have to tell. Your father
+died in prison."
+
+Ibarra sprang back, his eyes fixed on the lieutenant's.
+
+"Died in prison? Who died in prison?"
+
+"Your father," said the lieutenant, his voice still gentler.
+
+"My father--in prison? What are you saying? Do you know who my father
+was?" and he seized the old man's arm.
+
+"I think I'm not mistaken: Don Rafael Ibarra."
+
+"Yes, Don Rafael Ibarra," Crisóstomo repeated mechanically.
+
+"You will soon learn that for an honest man to keep out of prison is
+a difficult matter in the Philippines."
+
+"You mock me! Why did he die in prison?"
+
+"Come with me; we will talk on the way."
+
+They walked along in silence, the officer stroking his beard in search
+of inspiration.
+
+"As you know," he began, "your father was the richest man of the
+province, and if he had many friends he had also enemies. We Spaniards
+who come to the Philippines are seldom what we should be. I say this
+as truthfully of some of your ancestors as of others. Most of us come
+to make a fortune without regard to the means. Well, your father was a
+man to make enemies among these adventurers, and he made enemies among
+the monks. I never knew exactly the ground of the trouble with Brother
+Dámaso, but it came to a point where the priest almost denounced him
+from the pulpit.
+
+"You remember the old ex-artilleryman who collected taxes? He became
+the laughing-stock of the pueblo, and grew brutal and churlish
+accordingly. One day he chased some boys who were annoying him, and
+struck one down. Unfortunately your father interfered. There was a
+struggle and the man fell. He died within a few hours.
+
+"Naturally your father was arrested, and then his enemies unmasked. He
+was called heretic, filibustero, his papers were seized, everything
+was made to accuse him. Any one else in his place would have been
+set at liberty, the physicians finding that the man died of apoplexy;
+but your father's fortune, his honesty, and his scorn of everything
+illegal undid him. When his advocate, by the most brilliant pleading,
+had exposed these calumnies, new accusations arose. He had taken
+lands unjustly, owed men for imaginary wrongs, had relations with the
+tulisanes, by which his plantations and herds were unmolested. The
+affair became so complicated that no one could unravel it. Your father
+gave way under the strain, and died suddenly--alone--in prison."
+
+They had reached the quarters.
+
+The lieutenant hesitated. Ibarra said nothing, but grasped the old
+man's long, thin hand; then turned away, caught sight of a coach,
+and signalled the driver.
+
+"Fonda de Lala," he said, and his words were scarcely audible.
+
+
+
+
+
+V.
+
+A STAR IN THE DARK NIGHT.
+
+
+Ibarra went up to his chamber, which faced the river, threw himself
+down, and looked out through the open window. Across the river a
+brilliantly lighted house was ringing with joyous music. Had the young
+man been so minded, with the aid of a glass he might have seen, in that
+radiant atmosphere, a vision. It was a young girl, of exceeding beauty,
+wearing the picturesque costume of the Philippines. A semicircle
+of courtiers was round her. Spaniards, Chinese, natives, soldiers,
+curates, old and young, intoxicated with the light and music, were
+talking, gesturing, disputing with animation. Even Brother Sibyla
+deigned to address this queen, in whose splendid hair Doña Victorina
+was wreathing a diadem of pearls and brilliants. She was white,
+too white perhaps, and her deep eyes, often lowered, when she raised
+them showed the purity of her soul. About her fair and rounded neck,
+through the transparent tissue of the piña, winked, as say the Tagals,
+the joyous eyes of a necklace of brilliants. One man alone seemed
+unreached by all this light and loveliness; it was a young Franciscan,
+slim, gaunt, pale, who watched all from a distance, still as a statue.
+
+But Ibarra sees none of this. Another spectacle appears to his fancy,
+commands his eyes. Four walls, bare and dank, enclose a narrow
+cell, lighted by a single streak of day. On the moist and noisome
+floor is a mat; on the mat an old man dying. Beaten down by fever,
+he lies and looks about him, calling a name, in strangling voice,
+with tears. No one--a clanking chain, an echoed groan somewhere;
+that was all. And away off in the bright world, laughing, singing,
+drenching flowers with wine, a young man.... One by one the lights
+go out in the festal house: no more of noise, or song, or harp;
+but in Ibarra's ears always the agonizing cry.
+
+Silence has drawn her deep breath over Manila; all its life seems
+gone out, save that a cock's crow alternates with the bells of clock
+towers and the melancholy watch-cry of the guard. A quarter moon comes
+up, flooding with its pale light the universal sleep. Even Ibarra,
+wearied more perhaps with his sad thoughts than his long voyage, sleeps
+too. Only the young Franciscan, silent and motionless just now at the
+feast, awake still. His elbow on the window-place of his little cell,
+his chin sunk in his palm, he watches a glittering star. The star
+pales, goes out, the slender moon loses her gentle light, but the monk
+stays on; motionless, he looks toward the horizon, lost now behind
+the morning mists, over the field of Bagumbayan, over the sleeping sea.
+
+
+
+
+
+VI.
+
+CAPTAIN TIAGO AND MARIA.
+
+
+While our friends are still asleep or breakfasting, we will sketch
+the portrait of Captain Tiago. We have no reason to ignore him,
+never having been among his guests. Short, less dark than most of
+his compatriots, of full face and slightly corpulent, Captain Tiago
+seemed younger than his age. His rounded cranium, very small and
+elongated behind, was covered with hair black as ebony. His eyes,
+small and straight set, kept always the same expression. His nose
+was straight and finely cut, and if his mouth had not been deformed
+by the use of tobacco and buyo, he had not been wrong in thinking
+himself a handsome man.
+
+He was reputed the richest resident of Binondo, and had large estates
+in La Pampanga, on the Laguna de Bay, and at San Diego. From its
+baths, its famous gallera, and his recollections of the place,
+San Diego was his favorite pueblo, and here he passed two months
+every year. He had also properties at Santo Cristo, in the Calle de
+Anloague, and in the Calle Rosario; the exploitation of the opium
+traffic was shared between him and a Chinese, and, needless to say,
+brought him great gains. He was purveyor to the prisoners at Bilibid,
+and furnished zacate to many Manila houses. On good terms with all
+authority, shrewd, pliant, daring in speculation, he was the sole
+rival of a certain Perez in the awards of divers contracts which
+the Philippine Government always places in privileged hands. From
+all of which it resulted that Captain Tiago was as happy as can be
+a man whose small head announces his native origin. He was rich,
+and at peace with God, with the Government, and with men.
+
+That he was at peace with God could not be doubted. One has no
+motive for being at enmity with Him when one is well in the land,
+and has never had to ask Him for anything. From the grand salon
+of the Manila home, a little door, hid behind a silken curtain,
+led to a chapel--something obligatory in a Filipino house. There
+were Santiago's Lares, and if we use this word, it is because the
+master of the house was rather a poly- than a monotheist. Here, in
+sculpture and oils, were saints, martyrdoms, and miracles; a chapter
+could scarcely enumerate them all. Before these images Santiago burned
+his candles and made his requests known.
+
+That he was at peace with the Government, however difficult the
+problem, could not be doubted either. Incapable of a new idea, and
+contented with his lot, he was disposed to obey even to the lowest
+functionary, and to offer him capons, hams, and Chinese fruits at all
+seasons. If he heard the natives maligned, not considering himself one,
+he chimed in and said worse: one criticised the Chinese merchants or
+the Spaniards, he, who thought himself pure Iberian, did it too. He was
+for two years gobernadorcillo of the rich association of half-breeds,
+in the face of protestations from many who considered him a native. The
+impious called him fool; the poor, pitiless and cruel; his inferiors,
+a tyrant.
+
+As to his past, he was the only son of a rich sugar merchant, who died
+when Santiago was still at school. He had then to quit his studies
+and give himself to business. He married a young girl of Santa Cruz,
+who brought him social rank and helped his fortunes.
+
+The absence of an heir in the first six years of marriage made Captain
+Tiago's thirst for riches almost blameworthy. In vain all this time
+did Doña Pia make novenas and pilgrimages and scatter alms. But at
+length she was to become a mother. Alas! like Shakespeare's fisherman
+who lost his songs when he found a treasure, she never smiled again,
+and died, leaving a beautiful baby girl, whom Brother Dámaso presented
+at the font. The child was called Maria Clara.
+
+Maria Clara grew, thanks to the care of good Aunt Isabel. Her
+eyes, like her mother's, were large, black, and shaded by long
+lashes; sparkling and mirthful when she laughed; when she did not,
+thoughtful and profound, even sad. Her curly hair was almost blond,
+her nose perfect; and her mouth, small and sweet like her mother's,
+was flanked by charming dimples. The little thing, idol of every one,
+lived amid smiles and love. The monks fêted her. They dressed her
+in white for their processions, mingled jasmine and lilies in her
+hair, gave her little silver wings, and in her hands blue ribbons,
+the reins of fluttering white doves. She was so joyous, had such a
+candid baby speech, that Captain Tiago, enraptured with her, passed
+his time in blessing the saints.
+
+In the lands of the sun, at thirteen or fourteen, the child becomes a
+woman. At this age full of mysteries, Maria Clara entered the convent
+of Santa Catalina, to remain several years. With tears she parted from
+the sole companion of her childish games, Crisóstomo Ibarra, who in
+turn was soon to leave his home. Some years after his departure, Don
+Rafael and Captain Tiago, knowing the inclinations of their children,
+agreed upon their marriage. This arrangement was received with eager
+joy by two hearts beating at two extremities of the world.
+
+
+
+
+
+VII.
+
+IDYLLE.
+
+
+The sky was blue. A fresh breeze stirred the leaves and shook the
+nodding "angels' heads," the aerial plants, and the many other
+adornments of the terrace. Maria and Crisóstomo were there, alone
+together for the first time since his return. They began with charming
+futilities, so sweet to those who understand, so meaningless to
+others. She is sister to Cain, a little jealous; she says to her lover:
+"Did you never forget me among the many beautiful women you have seen?"
+
+He too, he is brother to Cain, a bit subtle.
+
+"Could I ever forget you!" he answered, gazing into the dark
+eyes. "Your remembrance made powerless that lotus flower, Europe,
+which steeps out of the memory of many of my countrymen the hopes and
+wrongs of our land. It seemed as if the spirit, the poetic incarnation
+of my country was you, frank and lovely daughter of the Philippines! My
+love for you and that for her fused in one."
+
+"I know only your pueblo, Manila and Antipolo," replied the young girl,
+radiant; "but I have always thought of you, and though my confessor
+commanded it, I was never able to forget you. I used to think over
+all our childish plays and quarrels. Do you remember the day you were
+really angry? Your mother had taken us to wade in the brook, behind
+the reeds. You put a crown of orange flowers on my head and called me
+Chloe. But your mother took the flowers and ground them with a stone,
+to mix with gogo, for washing our hair. You cried. 'Stupid,' said she,
+'you shall see how good your hair smells!' I laughed; at that you
+were angry and wouldn't speak to me, while I wanted to cry. On the
+way home, when the sun was very hot, I picked some sage leaves for
+your head. You smiled your thanks, and we were friends again."
+
+Ibarra opened his pocketbook and took out a paper in which were some
+leaves, blackened and dry, but fragrant still.
+
+"Your sage leaves," he replied to her questioning look.
+
+In her turn, she drew out a little white satin purse.
+
+"Hands off!" as he reached out for it, "there's a letter in it!"
+
+"My letter of good-by?"
+
+"Have you written me any others, señor mio?"
+
+"What is in it?"
+
+"Lots of fibs, excuses of a bad debtor," she laughed. "If you're good I
+will read it to you, suppressing the gallantries, though, so you won't
+suffer too much." And lifting the paper to hide her face, she began:
+
+"'My----' I'll not read what follows, because it's a fib"; and she
+ran her eyes over several lines. "In spite of my prayers, I must
+go. 'You are no longer a boy,' my father said, 'you must think of the
+future. You have to learn things your own country cannot teach you, if
+you would be useful to her some day. What, almost a man and I see you
+in tears?' Upon that I confessed my love for you. He was silent, then
+placing his hand on my shoulder he said in a voice full of emotion:
+'Do you think you alone know how to love; that it costs your father
+nothing to let you go away from him? It is not long since we lost your
+mother, and I am growing old, yet I accept my solitude and run the risk
+of never seeing you again. For you the future opens, for me it shuts;
+the fire of youth is yours, frost touches me, and it is you who weep,
+you who do not know how to sacrifice the present to a to-morrow good
+for you and for your country."
+
+Ibarra's agitation stopped the reading; he had become very pale and
+was walking back and forth.
+
+"What is it? You are ill!" cried Maria, going toward him.
+
+"With you I have forgotten my duty; I should be on my way to the
+pueblo. To-morrow is the Feast of the Dead."
+
+Maria was silent. She fixed on him her great, thoughtful eyes, then
+turned to pick some flowers.
+
+"Go," she said, and her voice was deep and sweet; "I keep you no
+longer. In a few days we shall see each other again. Put these flowers
+on your father's grave."
+
+A little later, Captain Tiago found Maria in the chapel, at the foot of
+a statue of the Virgin, weeping. "Come, come," said he, to console her;
+"burn some candles to St. Roch and St. Michael, patrons of travellers,
+for the tulisanes are numerous: better spend four réales for wax than
+pay a ransom."
+
+
+
+
+
+VIII.
+
+REMINISCENCES.
+
+
+Ibarra's carriage was crossing one of the most animated quarters of
+Manila. The street life that had saddened him the night before, now,
+in spite of his sorrow, made him smile. Everything awakened a world
+of sleeping recollections.
+
+These streets were not yet paved, so if the sun shone two days
+continuously, they turned to powder which covered everything. But
+let it rain a day, you had a mire, reflecting at night the shifting
+lamps of the carriages and bespattering the foot-passengers on the
+narrow walks. How many women had lost their embroidered slippers in
+these muddy waves!
+
+The good and honorable pontoon bridge, so characteristically Filipino,
+doing its best to be useful in spite of natural faults, and rising
+or falling with the caprices of the Pasig,--that brave bridge was no
+more. The new Spanish bridge drew Ibarra's attention. Carriages passed
+continuously, drawn by groups of dwarf horses, in splendid harness. In
+these sat at ease government clerks going to their bureaus, officers,
+Chinese, self-satisfied and ridiculously grave monks, canons. In an
+elegant victoria, Ibarra thought he recognized Father Dámaso, deep
+in thought. From an open carriage, where his wife and two daughters
+accompanied him, Captain Tinong waved a friendly greeting.
+
+Then came the Botanical Gardens, then old Manila, still enclosed in its
+ditches and walls; beyond that the sea; beyond that, Europe, thought
+Ibarra. But the little hill of Bagumbayan drove away all fancies. He
+remembered the man who had opened the eyes of his intelligence,
+taught him to find out the true and the just. It was an old priest,
+and the holy man had died there, on that field of execution!
+
+To these thoughts he replied by murmuring: "No, after all, first
+the country, first the Philippines, daughters of Spain, first the
+Spanish home-land!"
+
+His carriage rolled on. It passed a cart drawn by two horses whose
+hempen harness told of the back country. Sometimes there sounded the
+slow and heavy tread of a pensive carabao, drawing a great tumbrel;
+its conductor, on his buffalo skin, accompanying, with a monotonous and
+melancholy chant, the strident creaking of the wheels. Sometimes there
+was the dull sound of a native sledge's worn runners. In the fields
+grazed the herds, and among them white herons gravely promenaded, or
+sat tranquil on the backs of sleepy oxen beatifically chewing their
+cuds of prairie grass. Let us leave the young man, wholly occupied
+now with his thoughts. The sun which makes the tree-tops burn, and
+sends the peasants running, when they feel the hot ground through
+their thick shoes; the sun which halts the countrywoman under a clump
+of great reeds, and makes her think of things vague and strange--that
+sun has no enchantment for him.
+
+While the carriage, staggering like a drunken man over the uneven
+ground, passes a bamboo bridge, mounts a rough hillside or descends
+its steep slope, let us return to Manila.
+
+
+
+
+
+IX.
+
+AFFAIRS OF THE COUNTRY.
+
+
+Ibarra had not been mistaken. It was indeed Father Dámaso he had seen,
+on his way to the house which he himself had just left.
+
+Maria Clara and Aunt Isabel were entering their carriage when the monk
+arrived. "Where are you going?" he asked, and in his preoccupation
+he gently tapped the young girl's cheek.
+
+"To the convent to get my things," said she.
+
+"Ah! ah! well, well! we shall see who is the stronger, we shall
+see!" he murmured, as he left the two women somewhat surprised and
+went up the steps.
+
+"He's probably committing his sermon," said Aunt Isabel. "Come,
+we are late!"
+
+We cannot say whether Father Dámaso was committing a sermon, but he
+must have been absorbed in important things, for he did not offer
+his hand to Captain Tiago.
+
+"Santiago," he said, "we must have a serious talk. Come into your
+office."
+
+Captain Tiago felt uneasy. He answered nothing, but followed the
+gigantic priest, who closed the door behind them.
+
+While they talk, let us see what has become of Father Sibyla.
+
+The learned Dominican, his mass once said, had set out for the
+convent of his order, which stands at the entrance to the city,
+near the gate bearing alternately, according to the family reigning
+at Madrid, the name of Magellan or Isabella II.
+
+Brother Sibyla entered, crossed several halls, and knocked at a door.
+
+"Come in," said a faint voice.
+
+"God give health to your reverence," said the young Dominican,
+entering. Seated in a great armchair was an old priest, meagre,
+jaundiced, like Rivera's saints. His eyes, deep-sunken in their
+orbits, were arched with heavy brows, intensifying the flashes of
+their dying light.
+
+Brother Sibyla was moved. He inclined his head, and seemed to wait.
+
+"Ah!" gasped the sick man, "they recommend an operation! An operation
+at my age! Oh, this country, this terrible country! You see what it
+does for all of us, Hernando!"
+
+"And what has your reverence decided?"
+
+"To die! Could I do otherwise? I suffer too much, but--I've made
+others suffer. I'm paying my debt. And you? How are you? What do you
+bring me?"
+
+"I came to talk of the mission you gave me."
+
+"Ah! and what is there to say?"
+
+"They've told us fairy tales," answered Brother Sibyla wearily. "Young
+Ibarra seems a sensible fellow. He is not stupid at all, and thoroughly
+manly."
+
+"Is it so!"
+
+"Hostilities began yesterday."
+
+"Ah! and how?"
+
+Brother Sibyla briefly recounted what had passed between Brother
+Dámaso and Crisóstomo.
+
+"Besides," he said in conclusion, "the young man is going to marry
+the daughter of Captain Tiago, who was educated at the convent of
+our sisters. He is rich; he would not go about making himself enemies
+and compromise at once his happiness and his fortune."
+
+The sick man moved his hand in sign of assent.
+
+"Yes, you are right. He should be ours, body and soul. But if he
+declare himself our enemy, so much the better!"
+
+Brother Sibyla looked at the old man in surprise.
+
+"For the good of our sacred order, you understand," he added, breathing
+with difficulty; "I prefer attack to the flatteries and adulations
+of friends; besides, those are bought."
+
+"Your reverence believes that?"
+
+The old man looked at him sadly.
+
+"Remember this well," he went on, catching his breath; "our power lasts
+as long as it's believed in. If we're attacked, the Government reasons:
+'They are assailed because in them is seen an obstacle to liberty:
+therefore we must support them!'"
+
+"But if the Government should listen to our enemies, if it should
+come to covet what we have amassed--if there should be a man hardy
+enough----"
+
+"Ah! then beware!"
+
+Both were silent.
+
+"And too," the sick man continued, "we have need of attack to show
+us our faults and make us better them. Too much flattery deceives
+us; we sleep; and more, it makes us ridiculous, and the day we
+become ridiculous we fall as we have fallen in Europe. Money will no
+longer come to our churches. No one will buy scapulary, penitential
+cords, anything; and when we cease to be rich, we can no longer
+convince the conscience. And the worst is, that we're working our own
+destruction. For one thing, this immoderate thirst for gain, which I've
+combated in vain in all our chapters, this thirst will be our ruin. I
+fear we are already declining. God blinds whom He will destroy."
+
+"We shall always have our lands."
+
+"But every year we raise their price, and force the Indian to buy of
+others. The people are beginning to murmur. We ought not to increase
+the burdens we've already laid on their shoulders."
+
+"So your reverence believes that the revenues----"
+
+"Talk no more of money," interrupted the old man with aversion. "You
+say the lieutenant threatened Father Dámaso?"
+
+"Yes, Father," replied Sibyla, half smiling; "but this morning he
+told me the sherry had mounted to his head, and he thought it must
+have been the same with Brother Dámaso. 'And your threat?' I asked
+jestingly. 'Father,' said he, 'I know how to keep my word when it
+doesn't smirch my honor; I was never an informer--and that's why I
+am only a lieutenant.'"
+
+
+
+Though the lieutenant had not carried out his threat to go to
+Malacañang, the captain-general none the less knew what had happened. A
+young officer told the story.
+
+"From whom do you have it?" demanded His Excellency, smiling.
+
+"From De Laruja."
+
+The captain-general smiled again, and added:
+
+"Woman's tongue, monk's tongue doesn't wound. I don't wish to get
+entangled with these men in skirts. Besides, the provincial made
+light of my orders; to punish this priest I demanded that his parish
+be changed. Well, they gave him a better. Monkishness! as we say
+in Spain."
+
+Alone, His Excellency ceased to smile.
+
+"Oh! if the people were not so dense, how easy to bridle their
+reverences! But every nation merits its lot!"
+
+Meanwhile Captain Tiago finished his conference with Father Dámaso.
+
+"And now you are warned," said the Franciscan upon leaving. "This
+would have been avoided if you hadn't equivocated when I asked you
+how the matter stood. Don't make any more false moves, and trust
+her godfather."
+
+Captain Tiago took two or three turns about the room, reflecting
+and sighing. Then suddenly, as if a happy thought had struck him,
+running to the oratory, he extinguished the two candles lighted for
+the safeguard of Ibarra.
+
+
+
+
+
+X.
+
+THE PUEBLO.
+
+
+Almost on the banks of the lake, in the midst of meadows and streams,
+is the pueblo of San Diego. It exports sugar, rice, coffee, and
+fruits, or sells these articles of merchandise at low prices to
+Chinese traders.
+
+When, on a clear day, the children climb to the top stage
+of the moss-grown and vine-clad church tower, there are joyous
+exclamations. Each picks out his own little roof of nipa, tile, zinc,
+or palm. Beyond they see the rio, a monstrous crystal serpent asleep
+on a carpet of green. Trunks of palm trees, dipping and swaying, join
+the two banks, and if, as bridges, they leave much to be desired for
+trembling old men and poor women who must cross with heavy baskets
+on their heads, on the other hand they make fine gymnastic apparatus
+for the young.
+
+But what besides the rio the children never fail to talk about is a
+certain wooded peninsula in this sea of cultivated land. Its ancient
+trees never die, unless the lightning strikes their high tops. Dust
+gathers layer on layer in their hollow trunks, the rain makes soil of
+it, the birds bring seeds, a tropical vegetation grows there in wild
+freedom: bushes, briers, curtains of netted bind-weed, spring from
+the roots, reach from tree to tree, hang swaying from the branches,
+and Flora, as if yet unsatisfied, sows on the trees themselves; mosses
+and fungi live on the creased bark, and graceful aerial guests pierce
+with their tendrils the hospitable branches.
+
+This wood is the subject of a legend.
+
+When the pueblo was but a group of poor cabins, there arrived one
+day a strange old Spaniard with marvellous eyes, who scarcely spoke
+the Tagal. He wished to buy lands having thermal springs, and did
+so, paying in money, dress, and jewelry. Suddenly he disappeared,
+leaving no trace. The people of the pueblo had begun to think of him
+as a magician, when one day his body was found hanging high to the
+branch of a giant fig tree. After it had been buried at the foot of
+the tree, no one cared much to venture in that quarter.
+
+A few months later there arrived a young Spanish halfbreed, who
+claimed to be the old man's son. He settled, and gave himself to
+agriculture. Don Saturnino was taciturn and of violent temper,
+but very industrious. Late in life he married a woman of Manila,
+who bore him Don Rafael, the father of Crisóstomo.
+
+Don Rafael, from his youth, was much beloved. He rapidly developed
+his father's lands, the population multiplied, the Chinese came, the
+hamlet grew to a pueblo, the native curate died and was replaced by
+Father Dámaso. And all this time the people respected the sepulchre
+of the old Spaniard, and held it in superstitious awe. Sometimes,
+armed with sticks and stones, the children dared run near it to gather
+wild fruits; but while they were busy at this, or stood gazing at
+the bit of rope still dangling from the limb, a stone or two would
+fall from no one knew where. Then with cries of "The old man! the
+old man!" they threw down sticks and fruit, ran in all directions,
+between the rocks and bushes, and did not stop till they were out of
+the woods, all pale and breathless, some crying, few daring to laugh.
+
+
+
+
+
+XI.
+
+THE SOVEREIGNS.
+
+
+Who was the ruler of the pueblo? Not Don Rafael during his lifetime,
+though he possessed the most land, and nearly every one owed him. As
+he was modest, and gave little value to his deeds, no party formed
+around him, and we have seen how he was deserted and attacked when
+his fortunes fell.
+
+Was it Captain Tiago? It is true his arrival was always heralded with
+music, he was given banquets by his debtors, and loaded with presents;
+but he was laughed at in secret, and called Sacristan Tiago.
+
+Was it by chance the town mayor, the gobernadorcillo? Alas! he was
+an unfortunate, who governed not, but obeyed; did not dispose, but
+was disposed of. And yet he had to answer to the alcalde for all
+these dispositions, as if they emanated from his own brain. Be it
+said in his favor that he had neither stolen nor usurped his honors,
+but that they cost him five thousand pesos and much humiliation.
+
+Perhaps then it was God? But to most of these good people, God seemed
+one of those poor kings surrounded by favorites to whom their subjects
+always take their supplications, never to them.
+
+No, San Diego was a sort of modern Rome. The curate was the pope
+at the Vatican; the alférez of the civil guard, the King in the
+Quirinal. Here as there, difficulties arose from the situation.
+
+The present curate, Brother Bernardo Salvi, was the young and silent
+Franciscan we have already seen. In mode of life and in appearance
+he was very unlike his predecessor, Brother Dámaso. He seemed ill,
+was always thoughtful, accomplished strictly his religious duties,
+and was careful of his reputation. Through his zeal, almost all
+his parishioners had speedily become members of the Third Order of
+St. Francis, to the great dismay of the rival order, that of the Holy
+Rosary. Four or five scapularies were suspended around every neck,
+knotted cords encircled all the waists, and the innumerable processions
+of the order were a joy to see. The head sacristan took in a small
+fortune, selling--or giving as alms, to put it more correctly--all
+the paraphernalia necessary to save the soul and combat the devil. It
+is well known that this evil spirit, who once dared attack God face
+to face, and accuse His divine word, as the book of Job tells us,
+is now so cowardly and feeble that he flees at sight of a bit of
+painted cloth, and fears a knotted cord.
+
+Brother Salvi again greatly differed from Brother Dámaso--who set
+everything right with fists or ferrule, believing it the only way to
+reach the Indian--in that he punished with fines the faults of his
+subordinates, rarely striking them.
+
+From his struggles with the curate, the alférez had a bad reputation
+among the devout, which he deserved, and shared with his wife,
+a hideous and vile old Filipino woman named Doña Consolacion. The
+husband avenged his conjugal woes on himself by drinking like a fish;
+on his subordinates, by making them exercise in the sun; and most
+frequently on his wife, by kicks and drubbings. The two fought famously
+between themselves, but were of one mind when it was a question of
+the curate. Inspired by his wife, the officer ordered that no one
+be abroad in the streets after nine at night. The priest, who did
+not like this restriction, retorted in lengthy sermons, whenever
+the alférez went to church. Like all impenitents, the alférez did
+not mend his ways for that, but went out swearing under his breath,
+arrested the first sacristan he met, and made him clean the yard of
+the barracks. So the war went on. All this, however, did not prevent
+the alférez and the curate chatting courteously enough when they met.
+
+And they were the rulers of the pueblo of San Diego.
+
+
+
+
+
+XII.
+
+ALL SAINTS' DAY.
+
+
+The cemetery of San Diego is in the midst of rice-fields. It is
+approached by a narrow path, powdery on sunny days, navigable on
+rainy. A wooden gate and a wall half stone, half bamboo stalks,
+succeed in keeping out men, but not the curate's goats, nor the
+pigs of his neighbors. In the middle of the enclosure is a stone
+pedestal supporting a great wooden cross. Storms have bent the strip
+of tin on which were the I. N. R. I., and the rain has washed off
+the letters. At the foot of the cross is a confused heap of bones
+and skulls thrown out by the grave-digger. Everywhere grow in all
+their vigor the bitter-sweet and rose-bay. Some tiny flowerets, too,
+tint the ground--blossoms which, like the mounded bones, are known to
+their Creator only. They are like little pale smiles, and their odor
+scents of the tomb. Grass and climbing plants fill the corners, cover
+the walls, adorning this otherwise bare ugliness; they even penetrate
+the tombs, through earthquake fissures, and fill their yawning gaps.
+
+At this hour two men are digging near the crumbling wall. One, the
+grave-digger, works with the utmost indifference, throwing aside
+a skull as a gardener would a stone. The other is preoccupied; he
+perspires, he breathes hard.
+
+"Oh!" he says at length in Tagalo. "Hadn't we better dig in some
+other place? This grave is too recent."
+
+"All the graves are the same, one is as recent as another."
+
+"I can't endure this!"
+
+"What a woman! You should go and be a clerk! If you had dug up,
+as I did, a boy of twenty days, at night, in the rain----"
+
+"Uh-h-h! And why did you do that?"
+
+The grave-digger seemed surprised.
+
+"Why? How do I know, I was ordered to."
+
+"Who ordered you?"
+
+At this question the grave-digger straightened himself, and examined
+the rash young man from head to foot.
+
+"Come! come! You're curious as a Spaniard. A Spaniard asked me the
+same question, but in secret. I'm going to say to you what I said to
+him: the curate ordered it."
+
+"Oh! and what did you do with the body?"
+
+"The devil! if I didn't know you, I should take you for the police. The
+curate told me to bury it in the Chinese cemetery, but it's a long way
+there, and the body was heavy. 'Better be drowned,' I said to myself,
+'than lie with the Chinese,' and I threw it into the lake."
+
+"No, no, stop digging!" interrupted the younger man, with a cry of
+horror, and throwing down his spade he sprang out of the grave.
+
+The grave-digger watched him run off signing himself, laughed, and
+went to work again.
+
+The cemetery began to fill with men and women in mourning. Some
+of them came for a moment to the open grave, discussed some matter,
+seemed not to be agreed, and separated, kneeling here and there. Others
+were lighting candles; all began to pray devoutly. One heard sighing
+and sobs, and over all a confused murmur of "requiem æternam."
+
+A little old man, with piercing eyes, entered uncovered. At sight
+of him some laughed, others frowned. The old man seemed to take no
+account of this. He went to the heap of skulls, knelt, and searched
+with his eyes. Then with the greatest care he lifted the skulls one
+by one, wrinkling his brows, shaking his head, and looking on all
+sides. At length he rose and approached the grave-digger.
+
+"Ho!" said he.
+
+The other raised his eyes.
+
+"Did you see a beautiful skull, white as the inside of a cocoanut?"
+
+The grave-digger shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Look," said the old man, showing a piece of money; "it's all I have,
+but I'll give it to you if you find it."
+
+The gleam of silver made the man reflect. He looked toward the heap
+and said:
+
+"It isn't there? No? Then I don't know where it is."
+
+"You don't know? When those who owe me pay, I'll give you more. 'Twas
+the skull of my wife, and if you find it----"
+
+"It isn't there? Then I know nothing about it, but I can give you
+another."
+
+"You are like the grave you dig," cried the old man, furious. "You
+know not the value of what you destroy! For whom is this grave?"
+
+"How do I know? For a dead man!" replied the other with temper.
+
+"Like the grave, like the grave," the old man repeated with
+a dry laugh. "You know neither what you cast out nor what you
+keep. Dig! dig!" And he went toward the gate.
+
+Meanwhile the grave-digger had finished his task, and two mounds of
+fresh, reddish earth rose beside the grave. Drawing from his pocket
+some buyo, he regarded dully what was going on around him, sat down,
+and began to chew.
+
+At that moment a carriage, which had apparently made a long journey,
+stopped at the entrance to the cemetery. Ibarra got out, followed by
+an old servant, and silently made his way along the path.
+
+"It is there, behind the great cross, señor," said the servant,
+as they approached the spot where the grave-digger was sitting.
+
+Arrived at the cross, the old servant looked on all sides, and became
+greatly confused. "It was there," he muttered; "no, there, but the
+ground has been broken."
+
+Ibarra looked at him in anguish.
+
+The servant appealed to the grave-digger.
+
+"Where is the grave that was marked with a cross like this?" he
+demanded; and stooping, he traced a Byzantine cross on the ground.
+
+"Were there flowers growing on it?"
+
+"Yes, jasmine and pansies."
+
+The grave-digger scratched his ear and said with a yawn:
+
+"Well, the cross I burned."
+
+"Burned! and why?"
+
+"Because the curate ordered it."
+
+Ibarra drew his hand across his forehead.
+
+"But at least you can show us the grave."
+
+"The body's no longer there," said the grave-digger calmly.
+
+"What are you saying!"
+
+"Yes," the man went on, with a smile, "I put a woman in its place,
+eight days ago."
+
+"Are you mad?" cried the servant; "it isn't a year since he was
+buried."
+
+"Father Dámaso ordered it; he told me to take the body to the Chinese
+cemetery; I----"
+
+He got no farther, and started back in terror at sight of Crisóstomo's
+face. Crisóstomo seized his arm. "And you did it?" he demanded,
+in a terrible voice.
+
+"Don't be angry, señor," replied the grave-digger, pale and
+trembling. "I didn't bury him with the Chinese. Better be drowned
+than that, I thought to myself, and I threw him into the water."
+
+Ibarra stared at him like a madman. "You're only a poor fool!" he
+said at length, and pushing him away, he rushed headlong for the
+gate, stumbling over graves and bones, and painfully followed by the
+old servant.
+
+"That's what the dead bring us," grumbled the gravedigger. "The curate
+orders me to dig the man up, and this fellow breaks my arm for doing
+it. That's the way with the Spaniards. I shall lose my place!"
+
+
+
+
+
+XIII.
+
+THE LITTLE SACRISTANS.
+
+
+The little old man of the cemetery wandered absent-minded along
+the streets.
+
+He was a character of the pueblo. He had once been a student in
+philosophy, but abandoned his course at the demands of his mother. The
+good woman, finding that her son had talent, feared lest he become a
+savant and forget God; she let him choose, therefore, between studying
+for the priesthood and leaving the college of San José. He was in love,
+took the latter course, and married. Widowed and orphaned within a
+year, he found in books a deliverance from sadness, idleness, and
+the gallera. Unhappily he studied too much, bought too many books,
+neglected to care for his fortune, and came to financial ruin. Some
+people called him Don Astasio, or Tasio the philosopher; others,
+and by far the greater number, Tasio the fool.
+
+The afternoon threatened a tempest. Pale flashes of lightning illumined
+the leaden sky; the atmosphere was heavy and close.
+
+Arrived at the church door, Tasio entered and spoke to two little boys,
+one ten years old perhaps, the other seven.
+
+"Coming with me?" he asked. "Your mother has ready a dinner fit
+for curates."
+
+"The head sacristan won't let us leave yet," said the elder. "We're
+going into the tower to ring the bells."
+
+"Take care! don't go too near the bells in the storm," said Tasio, and,
+head down, he went off, thinking, toward the outskirts of the town.
+
+Soon the rain came down in torrents, the thunder echoed clap on clap,
+each detonation preceded by an awful zig-zag of fire. The tempest
+grew in fury, and, scarce able to ride on the shifting wind, the
+plaintive voices of the bells rang out a lamentation.
+
+The boys were in the tower, the younger, timid, in spite of his great
+black eyes, hugging close to his brother. They resembled one another,
+but the elder had the stronger and more thoughtful face. Their dress
+was poor, patched, and darned. The wind beat in the rain a little,
+where they were, and set the flame of their candle dancing.
+
+"Pull your rope, Crispin," said the elder to his little brother.
+
+Crispin pulled, and heard a feeble plaint, quickly silenced by
+a thunder crash. "If we were only home with mama," he mourned,
+"I shouldn't be afraid."
+
+The other did not answer. He watched the candle melt, and seemed
+thoughtful.
+
+"At least, no one there would call me a thief; mama would not have
+it. If she knew they had beaten me----" The elder gave the great cord
+a sharp pull; a deep, sonorous tone trembled out.
+
+"Pay what they say I stole! Pay it, brother!"
+
+"Are you mad, Crispin? Mama would have nothing to eat; they say you
+stole two onces, and two onces make thirty-two pesos."
+
+The little fellow counted thirty-two on his fingers.
+
+"Six hands and two fingers. And each finger makes a peso, and each
+peso how many cuartos?"
+
+"A hundred sixty."
+
+"And how much is a hundred sixty?"
+
+"Thirty-two hands."
+
+Crispin regarded his little paws.
+
+"Thirty-two hands," he said, "and each finger a cuarto! O mama! how
+many cuartos! and with them one could buy shoes, and a hat for the sun,
+and an umbrella for the rain, and clothes for mama."
+
+Crispin became pensive.
+
+"What I'm afraid of is that mama will be angry with you when she
+hears about it."
+
+"You think so?" said Crispin, surprised. "But I've never had a cuarto
+except the one they gave me at Easter. Mama won't believe I stole;
+she won't believe it!"
+
+"But if the curate says so----"
+
+Crispin began to cry, and said through his sobs:
+
+"Then go alone, I won't go. Tell mama I'm sick."
+
+"Crispin, don't cry," said his brother. "If mama seems to believe what
+they say, you'll tell her that the sacristan lies, that the curate
+believes him, that they say we are thieves because our father----"
+
+A head came out of the shadows in the little stairway, and as if it
+had been Medusa's, it froze the words on the children's lips.
+
+The head was long and lean, with a shock of black hair. Blue glasses
+concealed one sightless eye. It was the chief sacristan who had thus
+stolen upon the children.
+
+"You, Basilio, are fined two réales for not ringing regularly. And you,
+Crispin, stay to-night till you find what you've stolen."
+
+"We have permission," began Basilio; "our mother expects us at nine."
+
+"You won't go at nine o'clock either; you shall stay till ten."
+
+"But, señor, after nine one can't pass through the streets----"
+
+"Are you trying to dictate to me?" demanded the sacristan, and he
+seized Crispin's arm.
+
+"Señor, we have not seen our mother for a week," entreated Basilio,
+taking hold of his brother as if to protect him.
+
+With a stroke on the cheek the sacristan made him let go, and dragged
+off Crispin, who commenced to cry, let himself fall, tried to cling
+to the floor, and besought Basilio to keep him. But the sacristan,
+dragging the child, disappeared in the shadows.
+
+Basilio stood mute. He heard his little brother's body strike
+against the stairs; he heard a cry, blows, heart-rending words,
+growing fainter and fainter, lost at last in the distance.
+
+"When shall I be strong enough?" he murmured, and dashed down the
+stairs.
+
+He reached the choir and listened. He could still hear his little
+brother's voice; then over the cry, "Mama!--Brother!" a door
+shut. Trembling, damp with sweat, holding his mouth with his hand to
+stifle a cry, he stood a moment looking about in the dim church. The
+doors were closed, the windows barred. He went back to the tower, did
+not stop at the second stage, where the bells were rung, but climbed
+to the third, loosed the ropes that held the tongues of the bells,
+then went down again, pale, his eyes gleaming, but without tears.
+
+The rain commenced to slacken and the sky to clear. Basilio knotted
+the ropes, fastened an end to a beam of the balcony, and, forgetting
+to blow out the candle, glided down into the darkness.
+
+Some minutes later voices were heard in a street of the pueblo,
+and two rifle shots rang out; but it raised no alarm, and all again
+became silent.
+
+
+
+
+
+XIV.
+
+SISA.
+
+
+Nearly an hour's walk from the pueblo lived the mother of Basilio and
+Crispin, wife of a man who passed his time in lounging or watching
+cock-fights while she struggled to bring up their children. The
+husband and wife saw each other rarely, and their interviews were
+painful. To feed his vices, he had robbed her of her few trinkets,
+and when the unhappy Sisa had nothing more with which to satisfy
+his caprices he began to abuse her. Without much strength of will,
+dowered with more heart than reason, she only knew how to love
+and to weep. Her husband was a god, her children were angels. He,
+who knew how much he was adored and feared, like other false gods,
+grew more and more arbitrary and cruel.
+
+The stars were glittering in the sky cleared by the tempest. Sisa
+sat on the wooden bench, her chin in her hand, watching some branches
+smoulder on her hearth of uncut stones. On these stones was a little
+pan where rice was cooking, and among the cinders were three dry
+sardines.
+
+She was still young, and one saw she had been beautiful. Her eyes,
+which, with her soul, she had given to her sons, were fine, deep,
+and fringed with dark lashes; her face was regular; her skin pure
+olive. In spite of her youth, suffering, hunger sometimes, had begun
+to hollow her cheeks. Her abundant hair, once her glory, was still
+carefully dressed--but from habit, not coquetry.
+
+All day Sisa had been thinking of the pleasure coming at night. She
+picked the finest tomatoes in her garden--favorite dish of little
+Crispin; from her neighbor, Tasio, she got a fillet of wild boar and
+a wild duck's thigh for Basilio, and she chose and cooked the whitest
+rice on the threshing-floor.
+
+Alas! the father arrived. Good-by to the dinner! He ate the rice,
+the filet of wild boar, the duck's thigh, and the tomatoes. Sisa said
+nothing, happy to see her husband satisfied, and so much happier
+that, having eaten, he remembered he had children and asked where
+they were. The poor mother smiled. She had promised herself to eat
+nothing--there was not enough left for three; but the father had
+thought of his sons, that was better than food.
+
+Sisa, left alone, wept a little; but she thought of her children,
+and dried her tears. She cooked the little rice she had left, and
+the three sardines.
+
+Attentive to every sound, she now sat listening: a footfall strong
+and regular, it was Basilio's; light and unsteady, Crispin's.
+
+But the children did not come.
+
+To pass the time, she hummed a song. Her voice was beautiful, and when
+her children heard her sing "Kundiman" they cried, without knowing
+why. To-night her voice trembled, and the notes came tardily.
+
+She went to the door and scanned the road. A black dog was there,
+searching about. It frightened Sisa, and she threw a stone, sending
+the dog off howling.
+
+Sisa was not superstitious, but she had so often heard of black dogs
+and presentiments that terror seized her. She shut the door in haste
+and sat down by the light. She prayed to the Virgin, to God Himself,
+to take care of her boys, and most for the little Crispin. Then, drawn
+away from prayer by her sole preoccupation, she thought no longer
+of aught but her children, of all their ways, which seemed to her so
+pleasing. Then the terror returned. Vision or reality, Crispin stood
+by the hearth, where he often sat to chatter to her. He said nothing,
+but looked at her with great, pensive eyes, and smiled.
+
+"Mother, open! Open the door, mother!" said Basilio's voice outside.
+
+Sisa shuddered, and the vision disappeared.
+
+
+
+
+
+XV.
+
+BASILIO.
+
+Life is a Dream.
+
+
+Basilio had scarcely strength to enter and fall into his mother's
+arms. A strange cold enveloped Sisa when she saw him come alone. She
+wished to speak, but found no words; to caress her son, but found
+no force. Yet at the sight of blood on his forehead, her voice came,
+and she cried in a tone which seemed to tell of a breaking heartstring:
+
+"My children!"
+
+"Don't be frightened, mama; Crispin stayed at the convent."
+
+"At the convent? He stayed at the convent? Living?"
+
+The child raised his eyes to hers.
+
+"Ah!" she cried, passing from the greatest anguish to the utmost
+joy. She wept, embraced her child, covered with kisses his wounded
+forehead.
+
+"And why are you hurt, my son? Did you fall?"
+
+Basilio told her he had been challenged by the guard, ran, was shot
+at, and a ball had grazed his forehead.
+
+"O God! I thank Thee that Thou didst save him!" murmured the mother.
+
+She went for lint and vinegar water, and while she bandaged his wound:
+
+"Why," she asked, "did Crispin stay at the convent?"
+
+Basilio looked at her, kissed her, then little by little told the
+story of the lost money; he said nothing of the torture of his little
+brother. Mother and child mingled their tears.
+
+"Accuse my good Crispin! It's because we are poor, and the poor must
+bear everything," murmured Sisa. Both were silent a moment.
+
+"But you have not eaten," said the mother. "Here are sardines and
+rice."
+
+"I'm not hungry, mama; I only want some water."
+
+"Yes, eat," said the mother. "I know you don't like dry sardines,
+and I had something else for you; but your father came, my poor child."
+
+"My father came?" and Basilio instinctively examined his mother's
+face and hands.
+
+The question pained the mother; she sighed.
+
+"You won't eat? Then we must go to bed; it is late."
+
+Sisa barred the door and covered the fire. Basilio murmured his
+prayers, and crept on the mat near his mother, who was still on her
+knees. She was warm, he was cold. He thought of his little brother,
+who had hoped to sleep this night close to his mother's side, trembling
+with fear in some dark corner of the convent. He heard his cries as
+he had heard them in the tower; but Nature soon confused his ideas
+and he slept.
+
+In the middle of the night Sisa wakened him.
+
+"What is it, Basilio? Why are you crying?"
+
+"I was dreaming. O mama! it was a dream, wasn't it? Say it was nothing
+but a dream!"
+
+"What were you dreaming?"
+
+He did not answer, but sat up to dry his tears.
+
+"Tell me the dream," said Sisa, when he had lain down again. "I
+cannot sleep."
+
+"It is gone now, mama; I don't remember it all."
+
+Sisa did not insist: she attached no importance to dreams.
+
+"Mama," said Basilio after a moment of silence, "I'm not sleepy
+either. I had a project last evening. I don't want to be a sacristan."
+
+"What?"
+
+"Listen, mama. The son of Don Rafael came home from Spain to-day;
+he should be as kind as his father. Well, to-morrow I find Crispin,
+get my pay, and say I'm not going to be a sacristan. Then I'll go
+see Don Crisóstomo and ask him to make me a buffalo-keeper. Crispin
+could go on studying with old Tasio. Tasio's better than the curate
+thinks; I've often seen him praying in the church when no one else was
+there. What shall I lose in not being a sacristan? One earns little and
+loses it all in fines. I'll be a herdsman, mama, and take good care of
+the cows and carabaos, and make my master love me; then perhaps he'll
+let us have a cow to milk: Crispin loves milk. And I could fish in the
+rivers and go hunting when I get big. And by and by perhaps I could
+have a little land and sow sugar-cane. We could all live together,
+then. And old Tasio says Crispin is very bright. By and by we would
+send him to study at Manila, and I would work for him. Shall we,
+mama? He might be a doctor; what do you say?"
+
+"What can I say, except that you are right," answered Sisa, kissing
+her son.
+
+Basilio went on with his projects, talking with the confidence of a
+child. Sisa said yes to everything. But little by little sleep came
+back to the child's lids, and this time he did not cry in his dreams:
+that Ole-Luk-Oie, of whom Andersen tells us, unfurled over his head
+the umbrella with its lining of gay pictures. But the mother, past
+the age of careless slumbers, did not sleep.
+
+
+
+
+
+XVI.
+
+AT THE MANSE.
+
+
+It was seven o'clock when Brother Salvi finished his last mass. He
+took off his priestly robes without a word to any one.
+
+"Look out!" whispered the sacristans; "it is going to rain fines! And
+all for the fault of those children!"
+
+The father came out of the sacristy and crossed to the manse. On the
+porch six or seven women sat waiting for him, and a man was walking
+to and fro. The woman rose, and one bent to kiss his hand, but the
+priest made such a gesture of impatience that she stopped short.
+
+"He must have lost a real miser," she cried mockingly, when he had
+passed. "This is something unheard of: refuse his hand to the zealous
+Sister Rufa?"
+
+"He was not in the confessional this morning," said a toothless
+old woman, Sister Sipa. "I wanted to confess, so as to get some
+indulgences."
+
+"I have gained three plenary indulgences," said a young woman of
+pleasing face, "and applied them all to the soul of my husband."
+
+"You have done wrong," said Sister Rufa, "one plenary is enough;
+you should not squander the holy indulgences. Do as I do."
+
+"I said to myself, the more there are the better," replied young
+sister Juana, smiling; "but what do you do?"
+
+Sister Rufa did not respond at once; she chewed her buyo, and scanned
+her audience attentively; at length she decided to speak.
+
+"Well, this is what I do. Suppose I gain a year of indulgences; I say:
+Blessed Señor Saint Dominic, have the kindness to see if there is some
+one in purgatory who has need of precisely a year. Then I play heads
+or tails. If it falls heads, no; if tails, yes. If it falls heads,
+I keep the indulgence, and so I make groups of a hundred years, for
+which there is always use. It's a pity one can't loan indulgences at
+interest. But do as I do, it's the best plan."
+
+At this point Sisa appeared. She said good morning to the women,
+and entered the manse.
+
+"She's gone in, let us go too," said the sisters, and they followed
+her.
+
+Sisa felt her heart beat violently. She did not know what to say to the
+curate in defence of her child. She had risen at daybreak, picked all
+the fine vegetables left in her garden, and arranged them in a basket
+with platane leaves and flowers, and had been to the river to get a
+fresh salad of pakô. Then, dressed in the best she had, the basket
+on her head, without waking her son, she had set out for the pueblo.
+
+She went slowly through the manse, listening if by chance she might
+hear a well-known voice, fresh and childish. But she met no one,
+heard nothing, and went on to the kitchen.
+
+The servants and sacristans received her coldly, scarcely answering
+her greetings.
+
+"Where may I put these vegetables?" she asked, without showing offence.
+
+"There--wherever you want to," replied the cook curtly.
+
+Sisa, half-smiling, placed all in order on the table, and laid on
+top the flowers and the tender shoots of the pakô; then she asked a
+servant who seemed more friendly than the cook:
+
+"Do you know if Crispin is in the sacristy?"
+
+The servant looked at her in surprise.
+
+"Crispin?" said he, wrinkling his brows; "isn't he at home?"
+
+"Basilio is, but Crispin stayed here."
+
+"Oh, yes, he stayed, but he ran off afterward with all sorts of things
+he'd stolen. The curate sent me to report it at the quarters. The
+guards must be on their way to your house by this time."
+
+Sisa could not believe it; she opened her mouth, but her lips moved
+in vain.
+
+"Go find your children," said the cook. "Everybody sees you're a
+faithful woman; the children are like their father!"
+
+Sisa stifled a sob, and, at the end of her strength, sat down.
+
+"Don't cry here," said the cook still more roughly, "the curate is ill;
+don't bother him! Go cry in the street!"
+
+The poor woman got up, almost by force, and went down the steps with
+the sisters, who were still gossiping of the curate's illness. Once
+on the street she looked about uncertain; then, as if from a sudden
+resolution, moved rapidly away.
+
+
+
+
+
+XVII.
+
+STORY OF A SCHOOLMASTER.
+
+
+The lake, girt with hills, lies tranquil, as if it had not been
+shaken by yesterday's tempest. At the first gleam of light which
+wakes the phosphorescent spirits of the water, almost on the bounds
+of the horizon, gray silhouettes slowly take shape. These are the
+barks of fishermen drawing in their nets; cascos and paraos shaking
+out their sails.
+
+From a height, two men in black are silently surveying the lake. One
+is Ibarra, the other a young man of humble dress and melancholy face.
+
+"This is the place," said the stranger, "where the gravedigger brought
+us, Lieutenant Guevara and me."
+
+Ibarra uncovered, and stood a long time as if in prayer.
+
+When the first horror at the story of his father's desecrated grave
+had passed, he had bravely accepted what could not be undone. Private
+wrongs must go unavenged, if one would not add to the wrongs of the
+country: Ibarra had been trained to live for these islands, daughters
+of Spain. In his country, too, a charge against a monk was a charge
+against the Church, and Crisóstomo was a loyal Catholic; if he knew
+how in his mind to separate the Church from her unworthy sons, most of
+his fellow-countrymen did not. And, again, his intimate life was all
+here. The last of his race, his home was his family; he loved ideally,
+and he loved the goddaughter of the malevolent priest. He was rich,
+and therefore powerful still--and he was young. Ibarra had taken up
+his life again as he had found it.
+
+His prayer finished, he warmly grasped the young man's hand.
+
+"Do not thank me," said the other; "I owe everything to your father. I
+came here unknown; your father protected me, encouraged my work,
+furnished the poor children with books. How far away that good
+time seems!"
+
+"And now?"
+
+"Ah! now we get along as best we can."
+
+Ibarra was silent.
+
+"How many pupils have you?"
+
+"More than two hundred on the list--in the classes, fifty-five."
+
+"And how is that?"
+
+The schoolmaster smiled sadly.
+
+"It is a long story."
+
+"Don't think I ask from curiosity," said Ibarra. "I have thought much
+about it, and it seems to me better to try to carry out my father's
+ideas than to weep or to avenge his death. I wish to inspire myself
+with his spirit. That is why I ask this question."
+
+"The country will bless your memory, señor, if you carry out the
+splendid projects of your father. You wish to know the obstacles I
+meet? In a word, the plan of instruction is hopeless. The children
+read, write, learn by heart passages, sometimes whole books, in
+Castilian, without understanding a single word. Of what use is such
+a school to the children of our peasants!"
+
+"You see the evil, what remedy do you propose?"
+
+"I have none," said the young man; "one cannot struggle alone against
+so many needs and against certain influences. I tried to remedy
+the evil of which I just spoke; I tried to carry out the order
+of the Government, and began to teach the children Spanish. The
+beginning was excellent, but one day Brother Dámaso sent for me. I
+went up immediately, and I said good-day to him in Castilian. Without
+replying, he burst into laughter. At length he said, with a sidelong
+glance: 'What buenos dias! buenos dias! It's very pretty. You know
+Spanish?' and he began to laugh again."
+
+Ibarra could not repress a smile.
+
+"You laugh," said the teacher, "and I, too, now; but I assure you
+I had no desire to then. I started to reply, I don't know what,
+but Brother Dámaso interrupted:
+
+"'Don't wear clothes that are not your own,' he said in Tagal; 'be
+content to speak your own language. Do you know about Ciruela? Well,
+Ciruela was a master who could neither read nor write, yet he kept
+school.' And he left the room, slamming the door behind him. What
+was I to do? What could I, against him, the highest authority of the
+pueblo, moral, political, and civil; backed by his order, feared by the
+Government, rich, powerful, always obeyed and believed. To withstand
+him was to lose my place, and break off my career without hope of
+another. Every one would have sided with the priest. I should have
+been called proud, insolent, no Christian, perhaps even anti-Spanish
+and filibustero. Heaven forgive me if I denied my conscience and my
+reason, but I was born here, must live here, I have a mother, and I
+abandoned myself to my fate, as a cadaver to the wave that rolls it."
+
+"And you lost all hope? You have tried nothing since?"
+
+"I was rash enough to try two more experiments, one after our change
+of curates; but both proved offensive to the same authority. Since
+then I have done my best to convert the poor babies into parrots."
+
+"Well, I have cheerful news for you," said Ibarra. "I am soon to
+present to the Government a project that will help you out of your
+difficulties, if it is approved."
+
+The school-teacher shook his head.
+
+"You will see, Señor Ibarra, that your projects--I've heard something
+of them--will no more be realized than were mine!"
+
+
+
+
+
+XVIII.
+
+THE STORY OF A MOTHER.
+
+
+Sisa was running toward her poor little home. She had experienced
+one of those convulsions of being which we know at the hour of a
+great misfortune, when we see no possible refuge and all our hopes
+take flight. If then a ray of light illumine some little corner,
+we fly toward it without stopping to question.
+
+Sisa ran swiftly, pursued by many fears and dark presentiments. Had
+they already taken her Basilio? Where had her Crispin hidden?
+
+As she neared her home, she saw two soldiers coming out of the little
+garden. She lifted her eyes to heaven; heaven was smiling in its
+ineffable light; little white clouds swam in the transparent blue.
+
+The soldiers had left her house; they were coming away without her
+children. Sisa breathed once more; her senses came back.
+
+She looked again, this time with grateful eyes, at the sky, furrowed
+now by a band of garzas, those clouds of airy gray peculiar to
+the Philippines; confidence sprang again in her heart; she walked
+on. Once past those dreadful men, she would have run, but prudence
+checked her. She had not gone far, when she heard herself called
+imperiously. She turned, pale and trembling in spite of herself. One
+of the guards beckoned her.
+
+Mechanically she obeyed: she felt her tongue grow paralyzed, her
+throat parch.
+
+"Speak the truth, or we'll tie you to this tree and shoot you,"
+said one of the guards.
+
+Sisa could do nothing but look at the tree.
+
+"You are the mother of the thieves?"
+
+"The mother of the thieves?" repeated Sisa, without comprehending.
+
+"Where is the money your sons brought home last night?"
+
+"Ah! the money----"
+
+"Give us the money, and we'll let you alone."
+
+"Señores," said the unhappy woman, gathering her senses again,
+"my boys do not steal, even when they're hungry; we are used to
+suffering. I have not seen my Crispin for a week, and Basilio did
+not bring home a cuarto. Search the house, and if you find a réal,
+do what you will with us; the poor are not all thieves."
+
+"Well then," said one of the soldiers, fixing his eyes on Sisa's,
+"follow us!"
+
+"I--follow you?" And she drew back in terror, her eyes on the uniforms
+of the guards. "Oh, have pity on me! I'm very poor, I've nothing to
+give you, neither gold nor jewelry. Take everything you find in my
+miserable cabin, but let me--let me--die here in peace!"
+
+"March! do you hear? and if you don't go without making trouble,
+we'll tie your hands."
+
+"Let me walk a little way in front of you, at least," she cried,
+as they laid hold of her.
+
+The soldiers spoke together apart.
+
+"Very well," said one, "when we get to the pueblo, you may. March on
+now, and quick!"
+
+Poor Sisa thought she must die of shame. There was no one on the
+road, it is true; but the air? and the light? She covered her face,
+in her humiliation, and wept silently. She was indeed very miserable;
+every one, even her husband, had abandoned her; but until now she
+had always felt herself respected.
+
+As they neared the pueblo, fear seized her. In her agony she looked
+on all sides, seeking some succor in nature--death in the river would
+be so sweet. But no! She thought of her children; here was a light
+in the darkness of her soul.
+
+"Afterward," she said to herself,--"afterward, we will go to live in
+the heart of the forest."
+
+She dried her eyes, and turning to the guards:
+
+"We are at the pueblo," she said. Her tone was indescribable; at once
+a complaint, an argument, and a prayer.
+
+The soldiers took pity on her; they replied with a gesture. Sisa went
+rapidly forward, then forced herself to walk tranquilly.
+
+A tolling of bells announced the end of the high mass. Sisa hastened,
+in the hope of avoiding the crowd from the church, but in vain. Two
+women she knew passed, looked at her questioningly; she bowed with
+an anguished smile, then, to avoid new mortifications, she fixed her
+eyes on the ground.
+
+At sight of her people turned, whispered, followed with their eyes,
+and though her eyes were turned away, she divined, she felt, she
+saw it all. A woman who by her bare head, her dress, and her manners
+showed what she was, cried boldly to the soldiers:
+
+"Where did you find her? Did you get the money?"
+
+Sisa seemed to have taken a blow in the face. The ground gave way
+under her feet.
+
+"This way!" cried a guard.
+
+Like an automaton whose mechanism is broken she turned quickly, and,
+seeing nothing, feeling nothing but instinct, tried to hide herself. A
+gate was before her; she would have entered but a voice still more
+imperious checked her. While she sought to find whence the voice came,
+she felt herself pushed along by the shoulders. She closed her eyes,
+took two steps, then her strength left her and she fell.
+
+It was the barracks. In the yard were soldiers, women, pigs, and
+chickens. Some of the women were helping the men mend their clothes
+or clean their arms, and humming ribald songs.
+
+"Where is the sergeant?" demanded one of the guards angrily. "Has
+the alférez been informed?"
+
+A shrug of the shoulders was the sole response; no one would take
+any trouble for the poor woman.
+
+Two long hours she stayed there, half mad, crouched in a corner,
+her face hidden in her hands, her hair undone. At noon the alférez
+arrived. He refused to believe the curate's accusations.
+
+"Bah! monks' tricks!" said he; and ordered that the woman be released
+and the affair dropped.
+
+"If he wants to find what he's lost," he added, "let him complain to
+the nuncio! That's all I have to say."
+
+Sisa, who could scarcely move, was almost carried out of the
+barracks. When she found herself in the street, she set out as fast
+as she could for her home, her head bare, her hair loose, her eyes
+fixed. The sun, then in the zenith, burned with all his fire: not a
+cloud veiled his resplendent disc. The wind just moved the leaves of
+the trees; not a bird dared venture from the shade of the branches.
+
+At length Sisa arrived. Troubled, silent, she entered her poor cabin,
+ran all about it, went out, came in, went out again. Then she ran
+to old Tasio's, knocked at the door. Tasio was not there. The poor
+thing went back and commenced to call, "Basilio! Crispin!" standing
+still, listening attentively. An echo repeating her calls, the sweet
+murmur of water from the river, the music of the reeds stirred by
+the breeze, were the sole voices of the solitude. She called anew,
+mounted a hill, went down into a ravine; her wandering eyes took a
+sinister expression; from time to time sharp lights flashed in them,
+then they were obscured, like the sky in a tempest. One might have said
+the light of reason, ready to go out, revived and died down in turn.
+
+She went back, and sat down on the mat where they had slept the night
+before--she and Basilio--and raised her eyes. Caught in the bamboo
+fence on the edge of the precipice, she saw a piece of Basilio's
+blouse. She got up, took it, and examined it in the sunlight. There
+were blood spots on it, but Sisa did not seem to see them. She bent
+over and continued to look at this rag from her child's clothing,
+raised it in the air, bathing it in the brazen rays. Then, as if
+the last gleam of light within her had finally gone out, she looked
+straight at the sun, with wide-staring eyes.
+
+At length she began to wander about, crying out strange sounds. One
+hearing her would have been frightened; her voice had a quality the
+human larynx would hardly know how to produce.
+
+The sun went down; night surprised her. Perhaps Heaven gave her
+sleep, and an angel's wing, brushing her pale forehead, took away
+that memory which no longer recalled anything but griefs. The next
+day Sisa roamed about, smiling, singing, and conversing with all the
+beings of great Nature.
+
+
+
+Three days passed, and the inhabitants of San Diego had ceased to talk
+or think of unhappy Sisa and her boys. Maria Clara, who, accompanied
+by Aunt Isabel, had just arrived from Manila, was the chief subject
+of conversation. Every one rejoiced to see her, for every one loved
+her. They marvelled at her beauty, and speculated about her marriage
+with Ibarra. On this evening, Crisóstomo presented himself at the
+home of his fiancée; the curate arrived at the same moment. The house
+was a delicious little nest among orange-trees and ylang-ylang. They
+found Maria by an open window, overlooking the lake, surrounded by
+the fresh foliage and delicate perfume of vines and flowers.
+
+"The winds blow fresh," said the curate; "aren't you afraid of
+taking cold?"
+
+"I don't feel the wind, father," said Maria.
+
+"We Filipinos," said Crisóstomo, "find this season of autumn and
+spring together delicious. Falling leaves and budding trees in
+February, and ripe fruit in March, with no cold winter between,
+is very agreeable. And when the hot months come we know where to go."
+
+The priest smiled, and the conversation turned to the pueblo and the
+festival of its patron saint, which was near.
+
+"Speaking of fêtes," said Crisóstomo to the curate, "we hope you will
+join us in a picnic to-morrow, near the great fig-tree in the wood. The
+arrangements are all made as you wished, Maria. A small party is to
+start for the fishing-ground before sunrise," he went on to the curate,
+"and later we hope to be joined by all our friends of the pueblo."
+
+The curate said he should be happy to come after his services were
+said. They chatted a few moments longer, and then Ibarra excused
+himself to finish giving his invitations and make his final
+arrangements.
+
+As he left the house a man saluted him respectfully.
+
+"Who are you?" asked Crisóstomo.
+
+"You would not know my name, señor; I have been trying to see you
+for three days."
+
+"And what do you want?"
+
+"Señor, my wife has gone mad, my children are lost, and no one will
+help me find them. I want your aid."
+
+"Come with me," said Ibarra.
+
+The man thanked him, and they disappeared together in the darkness
+of the unlighted streets.
+
+
+
+
+
+XIX.
+
+THE FISHING PARTY.
+
+
+The stars were yet brilliant in the sapphire vault, and in the
+branches the birds were still asleep when a merry party went through
+the streets of the pueblo, toward the lake, lighted by the glimmer
+of the pitch torches here called huepes.
+
+There were five young girls, walking rapidly, holding each other by
+the hand or waist, followed by several elderly ladies, and servants
+bearing gracefully on their heads baskets of provisions. To see these
+girls' faces, laughing with youth, to judge by their abundant black
+hair flying free in the wind, and the ample folds of their garments,
+we might take them for divinities of the night fleeing at the approach
+of day; but they were Maria Clara and her four friends, the merry
+Sinang, her cousin, the calm Victoria, beautiful Iday, and pensive
+Neneng. They talked with animation, pinched each other, whispered in
+each other's ears, and pealed out merry rounds of laughter.
+
+After a while there came to meet the party a group of young men,
+carrying torches of reeds. They were walking, silent, to the sound
+of a guitar.
+
+When the two groups met, the girls became serious and grave. The men,
+on the contrary, talked, laughed, and asked six questions to get half
+a reply.
+
+"Is the lake smooth? Do you think we shall have a fine day?" demanded
+the mamas.
+
+"Don't be disturbed, señoras, I'm a splendid swimmer," said a tall,
+slim fellow, a merry-looking rascal with an air of mock gravity.
+
+But they were already at the borders of the lake, and cries of
+delight escaped the lips of the women. They saw two great barks,
+bound together, picturesquely decked with garlands of flowers and
+various-colored festoons of fluffy drapery. Little paper lanterns hung
+alternating with roses, pinks, pineapples, bananas, and guavas. Rudders
+and oars were decorated too, and there were mats, rugs, and cushions to
+make comfortable seats for the ladies. In the boat, most beautifully
+trimmed, were a harp, guitars, accordeons, and a carabao's horn; in
+the other burned a ship's fire; and tea, coffee and salabat--a tea
+of ginger sweetened with honey--were making for the first breakfast.
+
+"The women here, the men there," said the mamas, embarking; "move
+carefully, don't stir the boat or we shall capsize!"
+
+"And we're to be in here all alone?" pouted Sinang.
+
+Slowly the boats left the beach, reflecting in the mirror of the lake
+the many lights of their lanterns. In the east were the first streaks
+of dawn.
+
+Comparative silence reigned. The separation established by the ladies
+seemed to have dedicated youth to meditation. The water was perfectly
+tranquil, the fishing-grounds were near; it was soon decided to abandon
+the oars, and breakfast. Day had come, and the lanterns were put out.
+
+It was a beautiful morning. The light falling from the sky and
+reflected from the water made radiant the surface of the lake, and
+bathed everything in an atmosphere of clearness saturated with color,
+such as some marines suggest. Everybody, even the mamas, laughed and
+grew merry. "Do you remember, when we were girls--" they began to each
+other; and Maria and her young companions exchanged smiling glances.
+
+One man alone remained a stranger to this gayety--it was the
+helmsman. Young, of athletic build, his melancholy eyes and the severe
+lines of his lips gave an interest to his face, and this was heightened
+by his long black hair falling naturally about his muscular neck. His
+wrists of steel managed like a feather the large and heavy oar which
+served as rudder to guide the two barks.
+
+Maria Clara had several times met his eyes, but he quickly turned
+them away to the shores or the mountains. Pitying his solitude,
+she offered him some cakes. With a certain surprise he took one,
+refusing the others, and thanked her in a voice scarcely audible. No
+one else seemed to think of him.
+
+The early breakfast done, the party moved off toward the fishing
+enclosures. There were two, a little distance apart, both the property
+of Captain Tiago. In advance, a flock of white herons could be seen,
+some moving among the reeds, some flying here and there, skimming
+the water with their wings, and filling the air with their strident
+cries. Maria Clara followed them with her eyes, as, at the approach
+of the two barks, they flew away from the shore.
+
+"Do these birds have their nests in the mountains?" she asked the
+helmsman, less perhaps from the wish to know than to make the silent
+fellow talk.
+
+"Probably, señora," he replied, "but no one has ever yet seen them."
+
+"They have no nests, then?"
+
+"I suppose they must have; if not, they are unhappy indeed."
+
+Maria Clara did not catch the note of sadness in his voice.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"They say, señora, that the nests of these birds are invisible, and
+have the power to render invisible whoever holds them; that as the
+soul can be seen only in the mirror of the eyes, so these nests can
+be seen only in the mirror of the water."
+
+Maria Clara became pensive. But they had come to the first baklad, as
+the enclosures are called. The old sailor in charge attached the boats
+to the reeds, while his son prepared to mount with lines and nets.
+
+"Wait a moment," cried Aunt Isabel, "the fish must come directly out
+of the water into the pan."
+
+"What, good Aunt Isabel!" said Albino reproachfully, "won't you give
+the poor things a moment in the air?"
+
+Andeng, Maria's foster-sister, was a famous cook. She began to prepare
+rice water, the tomatoes, and the camias; the young men, perhaps to
+win her good graces, aided her, while the other girls arranged the
+melons, and cut paayap into cigarette-like strips.
+
+To while away the time Iday took up the harp, the instrument most
+often played in this part of the islands. She played well, and was
+much applauded. Maria thanked her with a kiss.
+
+"Sing, Victoria, sing the 'Marriage Song,'" demanded the ladies. This
+is a beautiful Tagal elegy of married life, but sad, painting its
+miseries rather than its joys. The men clamored for it too, and
+Victoria had a lovely voice; but she was hoarse. So Maria Clara was
+begged to sing.
+
+"All my songs are sad," she said.
+
+"Never mind," said her companions, and without more urging she took
+the harp and sang in a rich and vibrant voice, full of feeling.
+
+The chant ceased, the harp became mute; yet no one applauded; they
+seemed listening still. The young girls felt their eyes fill with
+tears; Ibarra seemed disturbed; the helmsman, motionless, was gazing
+far away.
+
+Suddenly there came a crash like thunder. The women cried out and
+stopped their ears. It was Albino, filling with all the force of his
+lungs the carabao's horn. There needed nothing more to bring back
+laughter, and dry tears.
+
+"Do you wish to make us deaf, pagan?" cried Aunt Isabel.
+
+"Señora," he replied, "I've heard of a poor trumpeter who, from
+simply playing on his instrument, became the husband of a rich and
+noble lady."
+
+"So he did--the Trumpeter of Säckingen!" laughed Ibarra.
+
+"Well," said Albino, "we shall see if I am as happy!" and he began
+to blow again with still more force. There was a panic: the mamas
+attacked him hand and foot.
+
+"Ouch! ouch!" he cried, rubbing his hurts; "the Philippines are far
+from the borders of the Rhine! For the same deed one is knighted,
+another put in the san-benito!"
+
+At last Andeng announced the kettle ready for the fish.
+
+The fisherman's son now climbed the weir or "purse" of the
+enclosure. It was almost circular, a yard across, so arranged that
+a man could stand on top to draw out the fish with a little net or
+with a line.
+
+All watched him, some thinking they saw already the quiver of the
+little fishes and the shimmer of their silver scales.
+
+The net was drawn up; nothing in it; the line, no fish adorned it. The
+water fell back in a shower of drops, and laughed a silvery laugh. A
+cry of disappointment escaped from every mouth.
+
+"You don't understand your business," said Albino, climbing up by
+the young man; and he took the net. "Look now! Ready, Andeng!"
+
+But Albino was no better fisherman. Everybody laughed.
+
+"Don't make a noise, you'll drive away the fish. The net must be
+broken." But every mesh was intact.
+
+"Let me try," said Léon, the fiancée of Iday. "Are you sure no one
+has been here for five days?"
+
+"Absolutely sure."
+
+"Then either the lake is enchanted or I draw out something."
+
+He cast the line, looked annoyed, dragged the hook along in the water
+and murmured:
+
+"A crocodile!"
+
+"A crocodile!"
+
+The word passed from mouth to mouth amid general stupefaction.
+
+"What's to be done?"
+
+"Capture him!"
+
+But nobody offered to go down. The water was deep.
+
+"We ought to drag him in triumph at our stern," said Sinang; "he has
+eaten our fish!"
+
+"I've never seen a crocodile alive," mused Maria Clara.
+
+The helmsman got up, took a rope, lithely climbed the little platform,
+and in spite of warning cries dived into the weir. The water, troubled
+an instant, became smooth; the abyss closed mysteriously.
+
+"Heaven!" cried the women, "we are going to have a catastrophe!"
+
+The water was agitated: a combat seemed to be going on below. Above,
+there was absolute silence. Ibarra held his blade in a convulsive
+grasp. Then the struggle seemed to end, and the young man's head
+appeared. He was saluted with joyous cries. He climbed the platform,
+holding in one hand an end of the rope. Then he pulled with all his
+strength, and the monster came in view. The rope was round its neck
+and the fore part of its body; it was large, and on its back could be
+seen green moss--to a crocodile what white hair is to man. It bellowed
+like an ox, beat the reeds with its tail, crouched, and opened its
+jaws, black and terrifying, showing its long and saw-like teeth. No
+one thought of aiding the helmsman. When he had drawn the reptile
+out of the water he put his foot on it, closed with his robust hand
+the redoubtable jaws, and tried to tie the muzzle. The creature made
+a last effort, arched its body, beat about with its powerful tail,
+and escaping, plunged outside the enclosure into the lake, dragging
+its vanquisher after it. The helmsman was a dead man. A cry of horror
+escaped from every mouth.
+
+Like a flash, another body disappeared in the water. There scarce
+was time to see it was Ibarra's. If Maria Clara did not faint, it
+was that the natives of the Philippines do not yet know how.
+
+The waters grew red. Then the young fisherman leaped in, his father
+followed him. But they had scarcely disappeared, when Ibarra and the
+helmsman came to the surface, clinging to the crocodile's body. Its
+white belly was lacerated, Ibarra's knife was in the gorge.
+
+Many arms stretched out to help the two young men from the water. The
+mamas, hysterical, wept, laughed, and prayed. Ibarra was unharmed. The
+helmsman had a slight scratch on the arm.
+
+"I owe you my life," said he to Ibarra, who was being wrapped in
+mantles and rugs.
+
+"You are too intrepid," said Ibarra. "Another time do not tempt God."
+
+"If you had not come back!" murmured Maria Clara, pale and trembling.
+
+The ladies did not approve of going to the second baklad; to their
+minds the day had begun ill; there could not fail to be other
+misfortunes; it were better to go home.
+
+"But what misfortune have we had?" said Ibarra. "The crocodile alone
+has the right to complain."
+
+At length the mamas were persuaded, and the barks took their course
+toward the second baklad.
+
+
+
+
+
+XX.
+
+IN THE WOODS.
+
+
+There had not been much hope in this second baklad. Every one
+expected to find there the crocodile's mate; but the net always
+came up full. The fishing ended, the boats were turned toward the
+shore. There was the party of the townspeople whom Ibarra had
+invited to meet his guests of the morning, and lunch with them
+under improvised tents beside a brook, in the shade of the ancient
+trees of the wooded peninsula. Music was resounding in the place,
+and water sang in the kettles. The body of the crocodile, in tow of
+the boats, turned from side to side; sometimes presenting its belly,
+white and torn, sometimes its spotted back and mossy shoulders. Man,
+the favorite of nature, is little disturbed by his many fratricides.
+
+The party dispersed, some going to the baths, some wandering among
+the trees. The silent young helmsman disappeared. A path with many
+windings crossed the thicket of the wood and led to the upper course
+of the warm brook, formed from some of the many thermal springs on
+the flanks of the Makiling. Along the banks of the stream grew wood
+flowers, many of which have no Latin names, but are none the less
+known to golden bugs, to butterflies, shaded, jewelled, and bronzed,
+and to thousands of coleopters powdered with gold and gleaming with
+facets of steel. The hum of these insects, the song of birds, or the
+dry sound of dead branches catching in their fall, alone broke the
+mysterious silence. Suddenly the tones of fresh, young voices were
+added to the wood notes. They seemed to come down the brook.
+
+"We shall see if I find a nest!" said a sweet and resonant voice. "I
+should like to see him without his seeing me. I should like to follow
+him everywhere."
+
+"I don't believe in heron's nests," said another voice; "but if I
+were in love, I should know how at once to see and to be invisible."
+
+It was Maria Clara, Victoria, and Sinang walking in the brook. Their
+eyes were on the water, where they were searching for the mysterious
+nest. In blouses striped with dainty colors, their full bath skirts
+wet to the knees, outlining the graceful curves of their bodies,
+they moved along, seeking the impossible, meanwhile picking flowers
+along the banks. Soon the little stream bent its course, and the tall
+reeds hid the charming trio and cut off the sound of their voices.
+
+A little farther on, in the middle of the stream, was a sort of bath,
+well enclosed, its roof of leafy bamboo; palm leaves, flowers, and
+streamers decked its sides. From here, too, came girls' voices. Farther
+on was a bamboo bridge, and beyond that the men were bathing, while a
+multitude of servants were busy plucking fowls, washing rice, roasting
+pigs. In the clearing on the opposite bank a group of men and women
+had formed under a great canvas roof, attached in part to the branches
+of the ancient trees, in part to pickets. There chatted the curate,
+the alférez, the vicar, the gobernadorcillo, the lieutenant, all the
+chief men of the town, including the famous orator, Captain Basilio,
+father of Sinang and opponent of Don Rafael Ibarra in a lawsuit not
+yet ended.
+
+"We dispute a point at law," Crisóstomo had said in inviting him,
+"but to dispute is not to be enemies," and the famous orator had
+accepted the invitation.
+
+Bottles of lemonade were opened and green cocoanut shells were broken,
+so that those who came from the baths might drink the fresh water;
+the girls were given wreaths of ylang-ylang and roses to perfume
+their unbound hair.
+
+The lunch hour came. The curate, the alférez, the gobernadorcillo,
+some captains, and the lieutenant sat at a table with Ibarra. The
+mamas allowed no men at the table with the girls.
+
+"Have you learned anything, señor alférez, about the criminal who
+attacked Brother Dámaso?" said Brother Salvi.
+
+"Of what criminal are you speaking?" asked the alférez, looking at
+the father over his glass of wine.
+
+"What? Why, the one who attacked Brother Dámaso on the highway day
+before yesterday."
+
+"Father Dámaso has been attacked?" asked several voices.
+
+"Yes; he is in bed yet. It is thought the maker of the assault is
+Elias, the one who threw you into the swamp some time ago, señor
+alférez."
+
+The alférez reddened with shame, if it were not from emptying his
+glass of wine.
+
+"But I supposed you were informed," the curate went on; "I said to
+myself that the alférez of the Municipal Guard----"
+
+The officer bit his lip.
+
+At that moment a woman, pale, thin, miserably dressed, appeared,
+like a phantom, in the midst of the feast.
+
+"Give the poor woman something to eat," said the ladies.
+
+She kept on toward the table where the curate was seated. He turned,
+recognized her, and the knife fell from his hand.
+
+"Give the woman something to eat," ordered Ibarra.
+
+"The night is dark and the children are gone," murmured the poor
+woman. But at sight of the alférez she became frightened and ran,
+disappearing among the trees.
+
+"Who is it?" demanded several voices.
+
+"Isn't her name Sisa?" asked Ibarra with interest.
+
+"Your soldiers arrested her," said the lieutenant to the alférez,
+with some bitterness; "they brought her all the way across the pueblo
+for some story about her sons that nobody could clear up."
+
+"What!" demanded the alférez, turning to the curate. "It is perhaps
+the mother of your sacristans?"
+
+The curate nodded assent.
+
+"They have disappeared, and there hasn't been the slightest effort to
+find them," said Don Filipo severely, looking at the gobernadorcillo,
+who lowered his eyes.
+
+"Bring back the woman," Crisóstomo ordered his servants.
+
+"They have disappeared, did you say?" demanded the alférez. "Your
+sacristans have disappeared, Father Salvi?"
+
+The curate emptied his glass and made another affirmative sign.
+
+"Ho, ho! father," cried the alférez with a mocking laugh, rejoiced at
+the prospect of revenge. "Your reverence loses a few pesos, and my
+sergeant is routed out to find them; your two sacristans disappear,
+your reverence says nothing; and you also, señor gobernadorcillo,
+you also----"
+
+He did not finish, but broke off laughing, and buried his spoon in
+the red flesh of a papaw.
+
+The curate began with some confusion:
+
+"I was responsible for the money."
+
+"Excellent reply, reverend pastor of souls!" interrupted the alférez,
+his mouth full. "Excellent reply, holy man!"
+
+Ibarra was on the point of interfering, but the priest recovered
+himself.
+
+"Do you know, señor alférez," he asked, "what is said about the
+disappearance of these children? No? Then ask your soldiers."
+
+"What!" cried the alférez, thus challenged, abandoning his mocking
+tone.
+
+"They say that on the night when they disappeared shots were heard
+in the pueblo."
+
+"Shots?" repeated the alférez, looking at the faces around him. There
+were several signs of assent.
+
+Brother Salvi went on with a sarcastic smile:
+
+"Come! I see that you do not know how to arrest criminals, that you
+are unaware of what your soldiers do, but that you are ready to turn
+yourself into a preacher and teach others their duty."
+
+"Señores," interrupted Ibarra, seeing the alférez grow pale, "I wish
+to know what you think of a project I've formed. I should like to
+give the mother into the care of a good physician. I've promised the
+father to try to find his children."
+
+The return of the servants without Sisa gave a new turn to the
+conversation. The luncheon was finished. While the tea and coffee
+were being served the guests separated into groups, the elders to
+play cards or chess, while the girls, curious to learn their destiny,
+posed questions to the "Wheel of Fortune."
+
+"Come, Señor Ibarra!" cried Captain Basilio, a little gayer than usual;
+"we've had a case in court for fifteen years and no judge is able to
+solve it; let's see if we cannot end it at chess."
+
+"In a moment, with great pleasure," said Ibarra; "the alférez is
+leaving us."
+
+As soon as the officer had gone the men grouped around the two
+players. It was to be an interesting game. The elder ladies meanwhile
+had surrounded the curate, to talk with him of the things of religion;
+but Brother Salvi seemed to judge the time unfitting and made but
+vague replies, his rather irritated glance being directed almost
+everywhere except toward his questioners.
+
+The chess players began with much solemnity.
+
+"If the game is a tie, the affair is forgotten!" said Ibarra.
+
+In the midst of the play he received a despatch. His eyes shone and he
+became pale, but he put the message in his pocket without opening it.
+
+"Check!" he cried. Captain Basilio had no recourse but to hide his
+king behind the queen.
+
+"Check!" said Ibarra, threatening with his castle.
+
+Captain Basilio asked a moment to reflect.
+
+"Willingly," said Ibarra; "I, too, should like a moment," and excusing
+himself he went toward the group round the "Wheel of Fortune."
+
+Iday had the disc on which were the forty-eight questions, Albino
+the book of replies.
+
+"Ask something," they all cried to Ibarra, as he came up. "The one
+who has the best answer is to receive a present from the others."
+
+"And who has had the best so far?"
+
+"Maria Clara!" cried Sinang. "We made her ask whether her lover is
+constant and true, and the book said----"
+
+But Maria, all blushes, put her hand over Sinang's mouth.
+
+"Give me the 'Wheel' then," said Crisóstomo, smiling. And he asked:
+
+"Shall I succeed in my present undertaking?"
+
+"What a stupid question!" pouted Sinang.
+
+The corresponding answer was found in the book. "'Dreams are dreams,'"
+read Albino.
+
+Ibarra brought out his telegram and opened it, trembling.
+
+"This time your wheel lies!" he cried. "Read!"
+
+"'Project for school approved.' What does that mean?" they asked.
+
+"This is my present," said he, giving the despatch to Maria Clara. "I'm
+to build a school in the pueblo; the school is my offering." And the
+young fellow ran back to his game of chess.
+
+After making this present to his fiancée, Ibarra was so happy that
+he played without reflection, and, thanks to his many false moves,
+the captain re-established himself, and the game was a draw. The two
+men shook hands with effusion.
+
+While they were thus making an end of the long and tedious suit, the
+sudden appearance of a sergeant and four armed guards, bayonets fixed,
+broke rudely in upon the merry-makers.
+
+"Whoever stirs is a dead man!" cried the sergeant.
+
+In spite of this bluster, Ibarra went up to him and asked what
+he wanted.
+
+"We want a criminal named Elias, who was your helmsman this morning,"
+replied the officer, still threatening.
+
+"A criminal? The helmsman? You must be mistaken."
+
+"No, señor, this Elias is accused of having raised his hand against
+a priest. You admit questionable people to your fêtes."
+
+Ibarra looked him over from head to foot and replied with great
+coldness.
+
+"I am in no way accountable to you for my actions. Every one is
+welcome at my fêtes." And he turned away.
+
+The sergeant, finding he was making no headway, ordered his men to
+search on all sides. They had the helmsman's description on paper.
+
+"Notice that this description answers well for nine-tenths of the
+natives," said Don Filipo; "see that you make no mistakes!"
+
+Quiet came back little by little. There were no end of questions.
+
+"So this is the Elias who threw the alférez into the swamp," said Léon.
+
+"He's a tulisane then?" asked Victoria, trembling.
+
+"I think not, for I know that he once fought against the tulisanes."
+
+"He hasn't the face of a criminal," said Sinang.
+
+"No; but his face is very sad," said Maria. "I did not see him smile
+all the morning."
+
+The day was ending, and in the last rays of the setting sun
+everybody left the wood, passing in silence the tomb of Ibarra's
+ancestor. Farther on conversation again became animated, gay, full
+of warmth, under these branches little used to merry-making. But the
+trees appeared sad, and the swaying bindweed seemed to say: "Adieu,
+youth! Adieu, dream of a day!"
+
+
+
+
+
+XXI.
+
+WITH THE PHILOSOPHER.
+
+
+The next morning, Juan Crisóstomo Ibarra, after visiting his land,
+turned his horse toward old Tasio's.
+
+Complete quiet reigned in the old man's garden; scarcely did the
+swallows make a sound as they flew round the roof. The old walls of
+the house were mossy, and ivy framed the windows. It seemed the abode
+of silence.
+
+Ibarra tied his horse, crossed the neat garden, almost on tiptoe, and
+entered the open door. He found the old man in his study, surrounded
+by his collections of insects and leaves, his maps, manuscript, and
+books. He was writing, and so absorbed in his work that he did not
+notice the entrance of Ibarra until the young man, loath to disturb
+him, was leaving as quietly as he had come.
+
+"What! you were there?" he cried, looking at Crisóstomo with a certain
+astonishment.
+
+"Don't disturb yourself; I see you are busy----"
+
+"I was writing a little, but it is not at all pressing. Can I be of
+service to you?"
+
+"Of great service," said Ibarra, approaching; "but--you are deciphering
+hieroglyphics!" he exclaimed in surprise, catching sight of the old
+man's work.
+
+"No, I'm writing in hieroglyphics."
+
+"Writing in hieroglyphics? And why?" demanded the young man, doubting
+his senses.
+
+"So that no one can read me."
+
+Ibarra looked at him attentively, wondering if he were not a little
+mad after all.
+
+"And why do you write if you do not wish to be read?"
+
+"I write not for this generation, but for future ages. If the men
+of to-day could read my books, they would burn them; the generation
+that deciphers these characters will understand, and will say: 'Our
+ancestors did not all sleep.' But you have something to ask of me,
+and we are talking of other things."
+
+Ibarra drew out some papers.
+
+"I know," he said, "that my father greatly valued your advice, and
+I have come to ask it for myself."
+
+And he briefly explained his project for the school, unrolling before
+the stupefied philosopher plans sent from Manila. "Whom shall I consult
+first, in the pueblo, whose support will avail me most? You know them
+all, I am almost a stranger."
+
+Old Tasio examined with tearful eyes the drawings before him.
+
+"You are going to realize my dream," he said, greatly moved; "the
+dream of a poor fool. And now the first advice I give you is never
+to ask advice of me."
+
+Ibarra looked at him in surprise.
+
+"Because, if you do," he continued with bitter irony, "all sensible
+people will take you for a fool, too. For all sensible people think
+those who differ with them fools; they think me one, and I am grateful
+for it, because the day they see in me a reasonable being woe is
+me! That day I shall lose the little liberty I now enjoy at the
+expense of my reputation. The gobernadorcillo passes with them for
+a wise man because having learned nothing but to serve chocolate and
+to suffer the caprices of Brother Dámaso, he is now rich and has the
+right to trouble the life of his fellow-citizens. 'There is a man of
+talent!' says the crowd. 'He has sprung from nothing to greatness.' But
+perhaps I am really the fool and they are the wise men. Who can say?"
+
+And the old man shook his head as though to dismiss an unwelcome
+thought.
+
+"The second thing I advise is to consult the curate, the
+gobernadorcillo, all the people of position in the pueblo. They will
+give you bad advice, unintelligible, useless. But to ask advice is
+not to follow it. All you need is to make it understood that you are
+working in accordance with their ideas."
+
+Ibarra reflected, then replied:
+
+"No doubt your counsel is good, but it is very hard to take. May I
+not offer my own ideas to the light of day? Cannot the good make its
+way anywhere? Has truth need of the dross of error?"
+
+"No one likes the naked truth," replied the old man. "It is good in
+theory, easy in the ideal world of which youth dreams. You say you
+are a stranger to your country; I believe it. The day that you arrived
+here, you began by wounding the self-esteem of a priest. God grant this
+seemingly small thing has not decided your future. If it has, all your
+efforts will break against the convent walls, without disturbing the
+monk, swaying his girdle, or making his robe tremble. The alcalde,
+under one pretext or another, will deny you to-morrow what he grants
+you to-day; not a mother will let her child go to your school, and
+the result of all your efforts will be simply negative."
+
+"I cannot help feeling your fears exaggerated," said Ibarra. "In spite
+of all you say, I cannot believe in this power; but even admitting it
+to be so great, the most intelligent of the people would be on my side,
+and also the Government, which is animated by the best intentions,
+and wishes the veritable good of the Philippines."
+
+"The Government! the Government!" murmured the philosopher,
+raising his eyes. "However great its desire to better the country,
+however generous may have been the spirit of the Catholic kings,
+the Government sees, hears, judges nothing more than the curate or
+the provincial gives it to see, hear, or judge. The Government is
+convinced that its tranquillity comes through the monks; that if
+it is upheld, it is because they uphold it; that if it live, is it
+because they consent to let it, and that the day when they fail it,
+it will fall like a manikin that has lost its base. The monks hold
+the Government in hand by threatening a revolt of the people they
+control; the people, by displaying the power of the Government. So
+long as the Government has not an understanding with the country,
+it will not free itself from this tutelage. The Government looks to
+no vigorous future; it's an arm, the head is the convent. Through
+its inertia, it allows itself to be dragged from abyss to abyss; its
+existence is no more than a shadow. Compare our system of government
+with the systems of countries you have visited----"
+
+"Oh!" interrupted Ibarra, "that is going far. Let us be satisfied that,
+thanks to religion and the humanity of our rulers, our people do not
+complain, do not suffer like those of other countries."
+
+"The people do not complain because they have no voice; if they
+don't revolt, it is because they are lethargic; if you say they do
+not suffer, it is because you have not seen their heart's blood. But
+the day will come when you will see and hear. Then woe to those who
+base their strength on ignorance and fanaticism; woe to those who
+govern through falsehood, and work in the night, thinking that all
+sleep! When the sun's light shows the sham of all these phantoms,
+there will be a frightful reaction; all this strength conserved for
+centuries, all this poison distilled drop by drop, all these sighs
+strangled, will find the light and the air. Who pay these accounts
+which the people from time to time present, and which History preserves
+for us in its bloody pages?"
+
+"God will never permit such a day to come!" replied Ibarra, impressed
+in spite of himself. "The Filipinos are religious, and they love
+Spain. There are abuses, yes, but Spain is preparing reforms to
+correct them; her projects are now ripening."
+
+"I know; but the reforms which come from the head are annulled
+lower down, thanks to the greedy desire of officials to enrich
+themselves in a short time, and to the ignorance of the people, who
+accept everything. Abuses are not to be corrected by royal decrees,
+not where the liberty of speech, which permits the denunciation of
+petty tyrants, does not exist. Projects remain projects; abuses,
+abuses. Moreover, if by chance some one coming to occupy an office
+begins to show high and generous ideas, immediately he hears on all
+sides--while to his back he is held a fool: 'Your Excellency does
+not know the country, Your Excellency does not know the character of
+the Indians, Your Excellency will ruin them, Your Excellency will do
+well to consult this one and that one,' and so forth, and so on. And
+as in truth His Excellency does not know the country, which hitherto
+he had supposed to be in America, and since, like all men, he has his
+faults and weaknesses, he allows himself to be convinced. Don't ask
+for miracles; don't ask that he who comes here a stranger to make his
+fortune should interest himself in the welfare of the country. What
+does it mean to him, the gratitude or the execration of a people he
+does not know, among whom he has neither attachments nor hopes? To
+make glory sweet to us, its plaudits must resound in the ears of
+those we love, in the atmosphere of our home, of the country that
+is to preserve our ashes; we wish this glory seated on our tomb,
+to warm a little with its rays the cold of death, to keep us from
+being reduced to nothingness quite. But we wander from the question."
+
+"It is true I did not come to argue this point; I came to ask advice,
+and you tell me to bow before grotesque idols."
+
+"Yes, and I repeat it; you must either lower your head or lose it."
+
+"'Lower my head or lose it!'" repeated Ibarra, thoughtful. "The dilemma
+is hard. Is it impossible to reconcile love of my country and love of
+Spain? Must one abase himself to be a good Christian; prostitute his
+conscience to achieve a good work? I love my country; I love Spain;
+I am a Catholic, and keep pure the faith of my fathers; but I see in
+all this no reason for delivering myself into the hands of my enemies."
+
+"But the field where you would sow is in the keeping of your
+enemies. You must begin by kissing the hand which----"
+
+Ibarra did not let him finish.
+
+"Kiss their hands! You forget that among them are those who killed my
+father and tore his body from the grave; but I, his son, do not forget,
+and if I do not avenge, it is because of my allegiance to religion!"
+
+The old philosopher lowered his eyes.
+
+"Señor Ibarra," he said slowly, "if you are going to keep the
+remembrance of these things, things I cannot counsel you to forget,
+abandon this enterprise and find some other means of benefiting your
+compatriots. This work demands another man."
+
+Ibarra saw the force of these words, but he could not give up his
+project. The remembrance of Maria Clara was in his heart; he must
+make good his offering to her.
+
+"If I go on, does your experience suggest nothing but this hard
+road?" he asked in a low voice.
+
+Old Tasio took his arm and led him to the window. A fresh breeze was
+blowing, courier of the north wind. Below lay the garden.
+
+"Why must we do as does that slender stalk, charged with buds and
+blossoms?" said the philosopher, pointing out a superb rose-tree. "The
+wind makes it tremble, and it bends, as if to hide its precious
+charge. If the stalk stood rigid, it would break, the wind would
+scatter the flowers, and the buds would die without opening. The
+gust of wind passed, the stalk rises again, proudly wearing her
+treasure. Who accuses her for having bowed to necessity? To lower the
+head when a ball whistles is not cowardice. What is reprehensible is
+defying the shot, to fall and rise no more."
+
+"And will this sacrifice bear the fruit I seek? Will they have faith
+in me? Can the priest forget his own offence? Will they sincerely
+aid me to spread that instruction which is sure to dispute with the
+convents the wealth of the country? Might they not feign friendship,
+simulate protection, and, underneath, wound my enterprise in the heel,
+that it fall more promptly than if attacked face to face? Admitting
+your views, one might expect anything."
+
+The old man reflected, then he said:
+
+"If this happens, if the enterprise fails, you will have the
+consolation of having done what you could. Something will have been
+gained. Your example will embolden others, who fear only to commence."
+
+Ibarra weighed these reasonings, examined the situation, and saw that
+with all his pessimism the old man was right.
+
+"I believe you," he said, grasping his hand. "It was not in vain
+that I came to you for counsel. I will go straight to the curate,
+who, after all, may be a fair-minded man. They are not all like the
+persecutor of my father. I go with faith in God and man."
+
+He took leave of Tasio, mounted, and rode away, followed by the regard
+of the pessimistic old philosopher, who stood muttering to himself:
+
+"We shall see, we shall see how the fates unroll the drama begun in
+the cemetery!"
+
+This time the wise Tasio was wrong; the drama had begun long before.
+
+
+
+
+
+XXII.
+
+THE MEETING AT THE TOWN HALL.
+
+
+It was a room of twelve or fifteen by eight or ten yards. The
+whitewashed walls were covered with charcoal drawings, more or less
+ugly, more or less decent. In the corner were a dozen old shot-guns
+and some rusty swords, the arms of the cuadrilleros.
+
+At one end, draped with soiled red curtains, was a portrait of His
+Majesty the King, and on the platform underneath an old fauteuil
+opened its worn arms; before this was a great table, daubed with ink,
+carved and cut with inscriptions and monograms, like the tables of
+a German students' inn. Lame chairs and tottering benches completed
+the furniture.
+
+In this hall meetings were held, courts sat, tortures were
+inflicted. At the moment the authorities of the pueblo and its vicinity
+were met there. The party of the old did not mingle with the party
+of the young; the two represented the Conservatives and Liberals.
+
+"My friends," Don Filipo, the chief of the Liberals, was saying to
+a little group, "we shall vanquish the old men this time; I'm going
+to present their plan myself, with exaggerations, you may imagine."
+
+"What are you saying?" demanded his surprised auditors.
+
+"Listen," said Don Filipo. "This morning I ran across old Tasio. He
+said to me: 'Your enemies are more opposed to your person than to your
+ideas. Is there something you don't want to have go through? Propose it
+yourself. If it's as desirable as a mitre, they will reject it. Then
+let the most modest young fellow among you present what you really
+want. To humiliate you, your enemies will help to carry it.' Hush! Keep
+the secret."
+
+The gobernadorcillo had come in. Conversation ceased, all took places,
+and silence reigned.
+
+The captain, as the gobernadorcillo is called, sat down in the chair
+under the king's portrait. His look was harried. He coughed, passed
+his hand over his cranium, coughed again, and at length began in a
+failing voice:
+
+"Señores, I've taken the risk of convening you all--hem, hem!--because
+we are to celebrate, the twelfth of this month, the feast of our
+patron, San Diego--hem, hem!"
+
+At this point of his discourse a cough, dry and regular, reduced him
+to silence.
+
+Then from among the elders arose Captain Basilio:
+
+"Will your honors permit me," said he, "to speak a word under these
+interesting circumstances? I speak first, though many of those present
+have more right than I, but the things I have to say are of such
+importance that they should neither be left aside nor said last,
+and for that reason I wish to speak first, to give them the place
+they merit. Your honors will, then, permit me to speak first in this
+assembly, where I see very distinguished people, like the señor, the
+present gobernadorcillo; his predecessor, my distinguished friend, Don
+Valentine; his other predecessor, Don Julio; our renowned captain of
+the cuadrilleros, Don Melchior, and so many others, whom, for brevity,
+I will not mention, and whom you see here present. I entreat your
+honors to give me the floor before any one else speaks. Am I happy
+enough to have the assembly accede to my humble request?" And the
+speaker bowed respectfully, half smiling.
+
+"You may speak, we shall hear you with pleasure!" cried his flattering
+friends, who held him a great orator. The old men hemmed with
+satisfaction and rubbed their hands.
+
+Captain Basilio wiped the sweat from his brow and continued:
+
+"Since your honors have been so kind and complaisant toward my humble
+self as to grant me the right of speech before all others here present,
+I shall profit by this permission, so generously accorded, and I shall
+speak. I imagine in my imagination that I find myself in the midst of
+the very venerable Roman senate--senatus populusque Romanus, as we said
+in those good old times which, unhappily for humanity, will never come
+back,--and I will ask the patres conscripti--as the sage Cicero would
+say if he were in my place--I would ask them, since time presses,
+and time is golden as Solomon says, that in this important matter
+each one give his opinion clearly, briefly, and simply. I have done."
+
+And satisfied with himself and with the attention of the house the
+orator sat down, not without directing toward his friends a look
+which plainly said: "Ha! Did I speak well? Ha!"
+
+"Now the floor belongs to any one who--hem!" said the gobernadorcillo,
+without being able to finish his sentence.
+
+To judge by the general silence, no one wished to be one of the patres
+conscripti. Don Filipo profited thereby and rose.
+
+The Conservatives looked at one another with significant nods and
+gestures.
+
+"Señores, I will present my project for the fête," he began.
+
+"We cannot accept it!" said an uncompromising Conservative.
+
+"We vote against it!" cried another adversary.
+
+Don Filipo could not repress a smile.
+
+"We have a budget of 3,500 pesos. With this sum we can assure a
+fête that will surpass any we have yet seen in our own province or
+in others."
+
+There were cries of "Impossible!" Such a pueblo spent 4,000 pesos;
+another, 5,000!
+
+"Listen, señores, and you will be convinced," continued Don Filipo,
+unshaken. "I propose that in the middle of the plaza we erect a grand
+theatre, costing 150 pesos."
+
+"Not enough! Say 160!"
+
+"Observe, gentlemen, 200 pesos for the theatre. I propose that
+arrangements be made with the Comedy Company of Tondo for seven
+representations, seven consecutive evenings, at 200 pesos an
+evening. Seven representations, at 200 pesos each, makes 1,400
+pesos. Observe, señor director, 1,400 pesos."
+
+Old and young looked at one another in surprise. Only those in the
+secret remained unmoved.
+
+"I further propose magnificent fireworks; not those little rockets
+and crackers that amuse nobody but children and old maids, but great
+bombs, colossal rockets. I propose, then, 200 bombs at two pesos each,
+and 200 rockets at the same price. Observe, señores, 1,000 pesos for
+bombs and----"
+
+The Conservatives could not contain themselves. They got up and
+conferred with one another.
+
+"And further, to show our neighbors that we are not people who must
+count their expenditures, I propose, first, four great preachers for
+the two feast days; second, that each day we throw into the lake 200
+roasted fowls, 100 stuffed capons, and 50 sucking pigs, as did Sylla,
+contemporary of Cicero, to whom Captain Basilio alluded."
+
+"That's it! Like Sylla!" repeated Captain Basilio, flattered.
+
+The astonishment grew.
+
+"As many rich people will come to the fêtes, each bringing thousands
+of pesos and his best cocks, I propose fifteen days of the gallera,
+the liberty of open gaming houses----"
+
+Cries rising from all sides drowned his voice; there was a veritable
+tumult. The gobernadorcillo, more crushed than ever, did nothing to
+quell it; he waited for order to establish itself.
+
+Happily Captain Valentine, most moderate of the Conservatives, rose
+and said:
+
+"What the lieutenant proposes seems to us extravagant. So many bombs
+and so much comedy could only be proposed by a young man, like the
+lieutenant, who could pass all his evenings at the theatre and hear
+countless detonations without becoming deaf. And what of these fowls
+thrown into the lake? Why should we imitate Sylla and the Romans? Did
+they ever invite us to their fêtes? I'm an old man, and I've never
+received any summons from them!"
+
+"The Romans live at Rome with the Pope," Captain Basilio whispered.
+
+This did not disconcert Don Valentine.
+
+"At all events," he went on, "the project is inadmissible, impossible;
+it's a folly!"
+
+Don Filipo must needs retire his project.
+
+Satisfied with the defeat of their enemy, the Conservatives were not
+displeased to see another young man rise, the municipal head of a
+group of fifty or sixty families, known as a balangay.
+
+He modestly excused himself for speaking. With delicate blandishments
+he referred to the "ideas so elegantly expressed by Captain Basilio,"
+upon which the delighted captain made signs to show him how to
+gesture and to change position: then he unfolded his project: to have
+something absolutely new, and to spend the 3,500 pesos in such a way
+as to benefit their own province.
+
+"That's it!" interrupted the young men; "that's what we want!"
+
+What did they care about seeing the King of Bohemia cut off the
+heads of his daughters! They were neither kings nor barbarians, and
+if they did such things themselves, would be hung high on the field
+of Bagumbayan. He proposed that two native plays be given which dealt
+with the manners of the times. There were two he had in mind, works
+of their best writers. They demanded only native costumes, and could
+be played by amateurs of talent, of whom the province had no lack.
+
+"A good idea!" some of the Conservatives began to murmur.
+
+"I'll pay for the theatre!" cried Captain Basilio, with enthusiasm.
+
+"Accepted! Accepted!" cried numerous voices. The young man went on:
+
+"A part of the money taken at the theatre might be distributed in
+prizes: to the best pupil in the school, the best shepherd, the
+best fisherman. We might have boat races, and games, and fireworks,
+of course."
+
+Almost all were agreed, though some talked about "innovations."
+
+When silence was established, only the decision of the gobernadorcillo
+was wanting.
+
+The poor man passed his hand across his forehead, he fidgeted, he
+perspired; finally he stammered, lowering his eyes:
+
+"I also; I approve; but, hem!"
+
+The assembly listened in silence.
+
+"But----" demanded Captain Basilio.
+
+"I approve entirely," repeated the functionary, "that is to say,
+I do not approve; I say yes, but----"
+
+He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.
+
+"But," continued the unhappy man, coming to the point at last,
+"the curate wants something else."
+
+"Is the curate to pay for the festival? Has he given even a
+cuarto?" cried a penetrating voice.
+
+Every one turned. It was Tasio. The lieutenant remained immovable,
+his eyes on the gobernadorcillo.
+
+"And what does the curate want?" demanded Don Basilio.
+
+"The curate wants six processions, three sermons, three solemn masses,
+and if any money is left, a comedy with songs between the acts."
+
+"But we don't want it!" cried the young men and some of their elders.
+
+"The curate wishes it," repeated the gobernadorcillo, "and I've
+promised that his wishes shall be carried out."
+
+"Then why did you call us together?" asked one, impatient.
+
+"Why didn't you say so in the beginning?" demanded another.
+
+"I wished to, señores, but, Captain Basilio, I did not have a
+chance. We must obey the curate!"
+
+"We must obey!" repeated some of the Conservatives.
+
+Don Filipo approached the gobernadorcillo and said bitterly:
+
+"I sacrificed my pride in a good cause; you sacrifice your manliness
+in a bad one; you spoil every good thing that might be done!"
+
+Ibarra said to the schoolmaster:
+
+"Have you any commission for the capital? I leave immediately."
+
+On the way home the old philosopher said to Don Filipo, who was
+cursing his fate:
+
+"The fault is ours. You didn't protest when they gave you a slave
+for mayor, and I, fool that I am, forgot about him!"
+
+
+
+
+
+XXIII.
+
+THE EVE OF THE FÊTE.
+
+
+It is the 10th of November, the eve of the fête. The pueblo of San
+Diego is stirred by an incredible activity; in the houses, the streets,
+the church, the gallera, all is unwonted movement. From windows flags
+and rugs are hanging; the air, resounding with bombs and music,
+seems saturated with gayety. Inside on little tables covered with
+bordered cloths the dalaga arranges in jars of tinted crystal the
+confitures made from the native fruits. Servants come and go; orders,
+whispers, comments, conjectures are everywhere. And all this activity
+and labor are for guests as often unknown as known; the stranger,
+the friend, the Filipino, the Spaniard, the rich man, the poor man,
+will be equally fortunate; and no one will ask his gratitude, nor
+even demand that he speak well of his host till the end of his dinner.
+
+The red covers which all the year protect the lamps are taken off,
+and the swinging prisms and crystal pendants strike out harmonies from
+one another and throw dancing rainbow colors on the white walls. The
+glass globes, precious heirlooms, are rubbed and polished; the dainty
+handiwork of the young girls of the house is brought out. Floors
+shine like mirrors, curtains of piña or silk jusi ornament the doors,
+and in the windows hang lanterns of crystal or of colored paper. The
+vases on the Chinese pedestals are heaped with flowers, the saints
+themselves in their reliquaries are dusted and wreathed with blossoms.
+
+At intervals along the streets rise graceful arches of reed; around
+the parvis of the church is the costly covered passageway, supported
+by trunks of bamboos, under which the procession is to pass, and
+in the centre of the plaza rises the platform of the theatre, with
+its stage of reed, of nipa, or of wood. The native pyrotechnician,
+who learns his art from no one knows what master, is getting ready
+his castles, balloons, and fiery wheels; all the bells of the pueblo
+are ringing gaily. There are sounds of music in the distance, and the
+gamins run to meet the bands and give them escort. In comes the fanfare
+with spirited marches, followed by the ragged and half-naked urchins,
+who, the moment a number is ended, know it by heart, hum it, whistle
+it with wonderful accuracy, and are ready to pass judgment on it.
+
+Meanwhile the people of the mountains, the kasamà, in gala dress,
+bring down to the rich of the pueblo wild game and fruits, and the
+rarest plants of the woods, the biga, with its great leaves, and
+the tikas-tikas, whose flaming flowers will ornament the doorways of
+the houses. And from all sides, in all sorts of vehicles, arrive the
+guests, known and unknown, many bringing with them their best cocks
+and sacks of gold to risk in the gallera, or on the green cloth.
+
+"The alférez has fifty pesos a night," a little plump man is murmuring
+in the ears of his guests. "Captain Tiago will hold the bank; Captain
+Joaquin brings eighteen thousand. There will be liam-pô; the Chinese
+Carlo puts up the game, with a capital of ten thousand. Sporting men
+are coming from Lipa and Batanzos and Santa Cruz. There will be big
+play! big play!--but will you take chocolate?--Captain Tiago won't
+fleece us this year as he did last; and how is your family?"
+
+"Very well, very well, thank you! And Father Dámaso?"
+
+"The father will preach in the morning and be with us at the games
+in the evening."
+
+"He's out of danger now?"
+
+"Without question! Ah, it's the Chinese who will let their hands
+go!" And in dumb show the little man counted money with his hands.
+
+But the greatest animation of all was at the outskirts of the crowd,
+around a sort of platform a few paces from the home of Ibarra. Pulleys
+creaked, cries went up, one heard the metallic ring of stone-cutting,
+of nail-driving; a band of workmen were opening a long, deep trench;
+others were placing in line great stones from the quarries of the
+pueblo, emptying carts, dumping sand, placing capstans.
+
+"This way! That's it! Quick about it!" a little old man of
+intelligent and animated face was crying. It was the foreman, Señor
+Juan, architect, mason, carpenter, metalworker, stonecutter, and on
+occasions sculptor. To each stranger he repeated what he had already
+said a thousand times.
+
+"Do you know what we are going to build? A model school, like those
+of Germany, and even better. The plans were traced by Señor R----. I
+direct the work. Yes, señor, you see it is to be a palace with two
+wings, one for the boys, the other for the girls. Here in the centre
+will be a great garden with three fountains, and at the sides little
+gardens for the children to cultivate plants. That great space you
+see there is for playgrounds. It will be magnificent!" And the Señor
+Juan rubbed his hands, thinking of his fame to come. Soothed by its
+contemplation, he went back and forth, passing everything in review.
+
+"That's too much wood for a crane," he said to a Mongol, who was
+directing a part of the work. "The three beams that make the tripod
+and the three joining them would be enough for me."
+
+"But not for me," replied the Mongol, with a peculiar smile, "the
+more ornament, the more imposing the effect. You will see! I shall
+trim it, too, with wreaths and streamers. You will say in the end
+that you were right to give the work into my hands, and Señor Ibarra
+will have nothing left to desire."
+
+The man smiled still, and Señor Juan laughed and threw back his head.
+
+In truth, Ibarra's project had found an echo almost everywhere. The
+curate had asked to be a patron and to bless the cornerstone, a
+ceremony that was to take place the last day of the fête, and to be
+one of its chief solemnities. One of the most conservative papers of
+Manila had dedicated to Ibarra on its first page an article entitled,
+"Imitate Him!" He was therein called "the young and rich capitalist,
+already a marked man," "the distinguished philanthropist," "the Spanish
+Filipino," and so forth. The students who had come from Manila for
+the fête were full of admiration for Ibarra, and ready to take him
+for their model. But, as almost always when we try to imitate a man
+who towers above the crowd, we ape his weaknesses, if not his faults,
+many of these admirers of Crisóstomo's held rigorously to the tie of
+his cravat, or the shape of his collar; almost all to the number of
+buttons on his vest. Even Captain Tiago burned with generous emulation,
+and asked himself if he ought not to build a convent.
+
+The dark presentiments of old Tasio seemed dissipated. When Ibarra said
+so to him, the old pessimist replied: "Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes."
+
+Toward evening Captain Tiago arrived from Manila, bringing Maria
+Clara, in honor of the fête, a beautiful reliquary of gold, set with
+emeralds and diamonds, enshrining a splinter from the fishing-boat
+of St. Peter. Scarcely had he come when a party of Maria's friends
+came to take her out to see the streets.
+
+"Go," said Captain Tiago, "but come back soon. Father Dámaso, you know,
+is to dine with us. You, too, Crisóstomo, must join us."
+
+"With the greatest pleasure," stammered Ibarra, avoiding Maria Clara's
+eyes, "if I did not feel that I must be at home to receive whoever
+may come."
+
+"Bring your friends here; there is always room at my table," said
+Captain Tiago, somewhat coldly. "I wish Father Dámaso and you to come
+to an understanding."
+
+"There is yet time," said Ibarra, forcing a smile.
+
+As they descended to the street, Aunt Isabel following, people moved
+aside to let them pass. Maria Clara was a vision of loveliness: her
+pallor had disappeared, and if her eyes remained pensive, her mouth
+seemed to know only smiles. With the amiability characteristic of
+happy young womanhood she saluted the people she had known as a child,
+and they smiled back their admiration. In these few days of freedom she
+had regained the frank friendliness, the gracious speech, which seemed
+to have slumbered inside the narrow walls of her convent. She felt a
+new, intense life within her, and everything without seemed good and
+beautiful. She showed her love for Ibarra with that maiden sweetness
+which comes from pure thoughts and knows no reason for false blushes.
+
+At regular intervals in the streets were kindled great clustered
+lights with bamboo supports, like candelabra. People were beginning
+to illuminate their houses, and through the open windows one could
+see the guests moving about in the radiance among the flowers to
+the music of harp, piano, or orchestra. Outside, in gala costume,
+native or European, Chinese, Spaniards, and Filipinos were moving
+in all directions, escaping with difficulty the crush of carriages
+and calashes.
+
+When the party reached Captain Basilio's house, Sinang saw them,
+and ran down the steps.
+
+"Come up till I'm ready to go out with you," she said. "I'm weary of
+all these strangers who talk of nothing but cocks and cards."
+
+The house was full of people. Many came up to greet Crisóstomo, and
+all admired Maria Clara. "Beautiful as the Virgin!" the old dames
+whispered, chewing their buyo.
+
+Here they must take chocolate. As they were leaving, Captain Basilio
+said in Ibarra's ear:
+
+"Won't you join us this evening? Father Dámaso is going to make up
+a little purse."
+
+Ibarra smiled and answered by a movement of the head, which might
+have meant anything.
+
+Chatting and laughing, the merry party went on past the brilliantly
+illuminated houses. At length they came to one fast closed and dark. It
+was the home of the alférez. Maria was astonished.
+
+"It's that old sorceress. The Muse of the Municipal Guard, as Tasio
+calls her," said Sinang. "Her house is in mourning because the people
+are gay."
+
+At a corner of the plaza, where a blind man was singing, an uncommon
+sight offered itself. A man stood there, miserably dressed, his
+head covered by a great salakot of palm leaves, which completely
+hid his face, though from its shadow two lights gleamed and went out
+fitfully. He was tall, and, from his figure, young. He pushed forward
+a basket, and after speaking some unintelligible words drew back and
+stood completely isolated. Women passing put fruit and rice into his
+basket, and at this he came forward a little, speaking what seemed
+to be his thanks.
+
+Maria Clara felt the presence of some great suffering. "Who is it?" she
+asked Iday.
+
+"It's a leper. He lives outside the pueblo, near the Chinese cemetery;
+every one fears to go near him. If you could see his cabin! The wind,
+the rain, and the sun must visit him as they like."
+
+"Poor man!" murmured Maria Clara, and hardly knowing what she did,
+she went up and put into the basket the reliquary her father had just
+given her.
+
+"Maria!" exclaimed her friends.
+
+"I had nothing else," she said, forcing back the tears.
+
+"What will he do with the reliquary? He can't sell it! Nobody will
+touch it now! If only it could be eaten!" said Sinang.
+
+But the leper went to the basket, took the glittering thing in his
+hands, fell on his knees, kissed it, and bent his head to the ground,
+uncovering humbly. Maria Clara turned her face to hide the tears.
+
+As the leper knelt, a woman crept up and knelt beside him. By her long,
+loose hair and emaciated face the people recognized Sisa. The leper,
+feeling her touch, sprang up with a cry; but, to the horror of the
+crowd, she clung to his arm.
+
+"Pray! Pray!" said she. "It is the Feast of the Dead! These lights
+are the souls of men. Pray for my sons!"
+
+"Separate them! Separate them!" cried the crowd; but no one dared
+do it.
+
+"Do you see the light in the tower? That is my son Basilio, ringing
+the bells. Do you see that other in the manse? That is my son Crispin;
+but I cannot go to them, because the curate is ill, and his money is
+lost. I carried the curate fruit from my garden. My garden was full
+of flowers, and I had two sons. I had a garden, I tended my flowers,
+and I had two sons."
+
+And leaving the leper she moved away, singing:
+
+"I had a garden and flowers. I had two sons, a garden and flowers."
+
+"What have you done for that poor woman?" Maria asked Ibarra.
+
+"Nothing yet," he replied, somewhat confused. "But don't be troubled;
+the curate has promised to aid me."
+
+As they spoke, a soldier came dragging Sisa back, rather than leading
+her. She was resisting.
+
+"Where are you taking her? What has she done?" asked Ibarra.
+
+"What has she done? Didn't you hear the noise she made?" said the
+guardian of public tranquillity.
+
+The leper took up his basket and vanished. Maria Clara asked to
+go home. She had lost all her gayety. Her sadness increased when,
+arrived at her door, her fiancé refused to go in.
+
+"It must be so to-night," he said as he bade her good-by.
+
+Maria, mounting the steps, thought how tiresome were fête days,
+when one must receive so many strangers.
+
+The next evening a little perfumed note came to Ibarra by the hand
+of Andeng, Maria's foster sister.
+
+
+    "Crisóstomo, for a whole day I have not seen you. They tell
+    me you are ill. I have lighted two candles and prayed for
+    you. I'm so tired of being asked to play and dance. I did not
+    know there were so many tiresome people in the world. If Father
+    Dámaso had not tried to amuse me with stories, I should have
+    left them all and gone away to sleep. Write me how you are,
+    and if I shall send papa to see you. I send you Andeng now to
+    make your tea; she will do it better than your servants. If
+    you don't come to-morrow, I shall not go to the ceremony.
+
+    Maria Clara."
+
+
+
+
+
+XXIV.
+
+IN THE CHURCH.
+
+
+The orchestras sounded the reveille at the first rays of the sun,
+waking with joyous airs the tired inhabitants of the pueblo.
+
+It was the last day of the fête--indeed, the fête itself. Every one
+expected much more than on the eve, when the Brothers of the Sacred
+Rosary had had their sermon and procession; for the Brothers of the
+Third Order were more numerous, and counted on humiliating their
+rivals. The Chinese candle merchants had reaped a rich harvest.
+
+Everybody put on his gala dress; all the jewels came out of their
+coffers; the fops and sporting men wore rows of diamond buttons on
+their shirt fronts, heavy gold chains, and white jipijapa hats, as
+the Indians call Panamas. No one but old Tasio was in everyday costume.
+
+"You seem even sadder than usual," the lieutenant said to him. "Because
+we have so many reasons to weep, may we not laugh once in a while?"
+
+"Yes, laugh, but not play the fool! It's the same insane orgy every
+year, the same waste of money when there's so much need and so much
+suffering! But I see! It's the orgy, the bacchanal, that is to still
+the lamentations of the poor!"
+
+"You know I share your opinion," said Don Filipo, half serious,
+half laughing, "and that I defended it; but what can I do against
+the gobernadorcillo and the curate?"
+
+"Resign!" cries the irate old man, leaving him.
+
+"Resign!" muttered Don Filipo, going on toward the
+church. "Resign? Yes, certainly, if my post were an honor and not
+a charge."
+
+There was a crowd in the parvis, and men, women, and children
+in a stream were coming and going through the narrow doors of
+the church. The smell of powder mingled with that of flowers and
+incense. Rockets, bombs, and serpents made women run and scream and
+delighted the children. An orchestra was playing before the convent;
+bands accompanied dignitaries on their way to the church, or paraded
+the streets under innumerable floating and dipping flags. Light and
+color distracted the eye, music and explosions the ear.
+
+High mass was about to be celebrated. Among the congregation were
+to be the chief alcalde of the province and other Spanish notables;
+and last, the sermon would be given by Brother Dámaso, who had the
+greatest renown as a preacher.
+
+The church was crammed. People were jostled, crushed, trampled on, and
+cried out at each encounter. From far they stretched their arms to dip
+their fingers in the holy water, but getting nearer, saw its color, and
+the hands retired. They scarcely breathed; the heat and atmosphere were
+insupportable; but the preacher was worth the endurance of all these
+miseries; besides, his sermon was to cost the pueblo two hundred and
+fifty pesos. Fans, hats, and handkerchiefs agitated the air; children
+cried, and gave the sacristans a hard enough task getting them out.
+
+Ibarra was in a corner. Maria Clara knelt near the high altar, where
+the curate had reserved a place for her. Captain Tiago, in frock coat,
+sat on the bench of authorities, and the children, who did not know
+him, taking him for another gobernadorcillo, dared not go near him.
+
+At length the alcalde arrived with his suite. He came from the
+sacristy, and sat down in a splendid fauteuil, beneath which was
+spread a rich carpet. He was in full dress, and wore the cordon of
+Charles III., with four or five other decorations.
+
+"Ha!" cried a countryman. "A citizen in fancy dress!"
+
+"Imbecile!" replied his neighbor. "It's Prince Villardo whom we
+saw last night in the play!" And the alcalde, in the character of
+giant-slayer, rose accordingly in the popular estimation.
+
+Presently those seated arose, those sleeping awoke, the mass had
+begun. Brother Salvi celebrated, attended by two Augustins. At length
+came the long-looked-for moment of the sermon. The three priests
+sat down, the alcalde and other notables followed them, the music
+ceased. The people made themselves as comfortable as possible, those
+who had no benches sitting outright on the pavement, or arranging
+themselves tailor fashion.
+
+Preceded by two sacristans and followed by another monk, who bore
+a great book, Father Dámaso made his way through the crowd. He
+disappeared a moment in the spiral staircase of the pulpit, then
+his great head reappeared and his herculean bust. He looked over his
+audience, and, the review terminated, said to his companion, hidden
+at his feet:
+
+"Attention, brother!"
+
+The monk opened his book.
+
+
+
+
+
+XXV.
+
+THE SERMON.
+
+
+The first part of the sermon was to be in Castilian, the remainder
+in Tagalo. Brother Dámaso began slowly and in ordinary voice:
+
+"Et spiritum tuum bonum dedisti qui docevet eos, et manna tuum non
+prohibuisti ab ore eorum, et aquam dedisti eis in siti. Words of the
+Lord spoken by the mouth of Esdras, Book II., chapter ix., verse 20.
+
+"Most worshipful señor (to the alcalde), very reverend priests,
+brothers in Christ!"
+
+Here an impressive pose and a new glance round the audience, then,
+his eyes on the alcalde, the father majestically extended his right
+hand toward the altar, slowly crossed his arms, without saying a word,
+and, passing from this calm to action, threw back his head, pointed
+toward the main entrance, and, impetuously cutting the air with the
+edge of his hand, began to speak in a voice strong, full, and resonant.
+
+"Brilliant and splendid is the altar, wide the door, the air is the
+vehicle of the sacred word which shall spring from my lips. Hear,
+then, with the ears of the soul and the heart, that the words of the
+Lord may not fall on a stony ground, but that they may grow and shoot
+upward in the field of our seraphic father, St. Francis. You, sinners,
+captives of those Moors of the soul who infest the seas of the eternal
+life, in the doughty ships of the flesh and the world; you who row
+in the galleys of Satan, behold with reverent compunction him who
+redeems souls from the captivity of the demon--the intrepid Gideon,
+the courageous David, the victorious Roland of Christianity! the
+celestial guard, more valiant than all the civil guards of past and
+future. (The alférez frowned.) Yes, Señor Alférez, more valiant and
+more powerful than all! This conqueror, who, without other weapon
+than a wooden cross, vanquished the eternal tulisanes of darkness,
+and would have utterly destroyed them were spirits not immortal. This
+marvel, this incredible phenomenon, is the blessed Diego of Alcala!"
+
+The "rude Indians," as the correspondents say, fished out of this
+paragraph only the words civil guard, tulisane, San Diego, and San
+Francisco. They had noticed the grimace of the alférez and the militant
+gesture of the preacher, and had from this deduced that the father
+was angry with the guard for not pursuing the tulisanes, and that
+San Diego and San Francisco had taken upon themselves to do it. They
+were enchanted, not doubting that, the tulisanes once dispersed,
+St. Francis would also destroy the municipal guard. Their attention,
+therefore, redoubled.
+
+The monk continued so long his eulogy of San Diego that his auditors,
+not even excepting Captain Tiago, began to yawn a little. Then
+he reproached them with living like the Protestants and heretics,
+who respect not the ministers of God; like the Chinese, for which
+condemnation be upon them!
+
+"What is he telling us, the Palé Lámaso?" murmured the Chinese Carlos,
+looking angrily at the preacher, who went on improvising a series of
+apostrophes and imprecations.
+
+"You will die in impenitence, race of heretics! Your punishment is
+already being meted out to you in jails and prisons. The family and its
+women should flee you; rulers should destroy you. If you have a member
+that causeth you to offend, cut it off and cast it into the fire!"
+
+Brother Dámaso was nervous. He had forgotten his sermon and was
+improvising. Ibarra became restless; he looked about in search of
+some corner, but the church was full. Maria Clara no longer heard
+the sermon. She was analyzing a picture of the souls of the "Blessed
+in Purgatory."
+
+In the improvisation the monk who played the part of prompter lost his
+place and skipped some paragraphs. The text returned to San Diego,
+and with a long series of exclamations and contrasts the father
+brought to a close the first part of his sermon.
+
+The second part was entirely improvised; not that Brother Dámaso
+knew Tagalo better than Castilian; but, considering the natives of
+the province entirely ignorant of rhetoric, he did not mind making
+errors before them. Yet the second part of his discourse had for
+certain people graver consequences than the first.
+
+He began with a "Maná capatir concristians," "My Christian brothers,"
+followed by an avalanche of untranslatable phrases about the
+soul, sin, and the patron saint. Then he launched a new series of
+maledictions against lack of respect and growing irreligion. On this
+point he seemed to be inspired, and expressed himself with force and
+clearness. He spoke of sinners who die in prison without confession
+or the sacraments; of accursed families, of petty students, and of
+toy philosophers.
+
+Ibarra listened and understood. He kept a calm exterior, but his eyes
+turned toward the bench of magistrates. No one seemed to pay attention;
+as to the alcalde, he was asleep.
+
+The inspiration of the preacher increased. He spoke of the early
+times when every Filipino encountering a priest uncovered, knelt,
+and kissed his hand. Now, he said, there were those who, because they
+had studied in Manila or in Europe, thought fit to shake the hand of
+a priest instead of kissing it.
+
+But in spite of the cries and gestures of the orator, by this time
+many of his auditors slept, and few listened. Some of the devout
+would have wept over the sins of the ungodly, but nobody joined them,
+and they were forced to give it up. A man seated beside an old woman
+went so sound asleep that he fell over against her. The good woman
+took her slipper and tried to waken him, at the same time crying out:
+
+"Get away! Savage, animal, demon, carabao!"
+
+Naturally this raised a tumult. The preacher elevated his brows,
+struck dumb by such a scandal; indignation strangled the words in
+his throat; he could only strike the pulpit with his fists. This had
+its effect. The old woman dropped the shoe and, still grumbling and
+signing herself, sank on her knees.
+
+"Ah, ah, ah, ah!" the irate priest could at last articulate. "It is for
+this that I have preached to you all the morning! Savages! You respect
+nothing! Behold the work of the incontinence of the century!" And
+launched again upon this theme, he preached a half hour longer. The
+alcalde breathed loud. Maria Clara, having studied all the pictures in
+sight, had dropped her head. Crisóstomo had ceased to be moved by the
+sermon. He was picturing a little house, high up among the mountains,
+with Maria Clara in the garden. Why concern himself with men, dragging
+out their lives in the miserable pueblos of the valley?
+
+At length the sermon ended, and the mass went on. At the moment
+when all were kneeling and the priests bowed their heads at the
+"Incarnatus est," a man murmured in Ibarra's ear: "At the blessing
+of the cornerstone do not separate yourself from the curate; do not
+go down into the trench. Your life is at stake!"
+
+It was the helmsman.
+
+
+
+
+
+XXVI.
+
+THE CRANE.
+
+
+It was indeed not an ordinary crane that the Mongol had built for
+letting the enormous cornerstone of the school into the trench. The
+framework was complicated and the cables passed over extraordinary
+pulleys. Flags, streamers, and garlands of flowers, however, hid the
+mechanism. By means of a cleverly contrived capstan, the enormous
+stone held suspended over the open trench could be raised or lowered
+with ease by a single man.
+
+"See!" said the Mongol to Señor Juan, inserting the bar and turning
+it. "See how I can manipulate the thing up here and unaided!"
+
+Señor Juan was full of admiration.
+
+"Who taught you mechanics?" he asked.
+
+"My father, my late father," replied the man, with his peculiar smile,
+"and Don Saturnino, the grandfather of Don Crisóstomo, taught him."
+
+"You must know then about Don Saturnino----"
+
+"Oh, many things! Not only did he beat his workmen and expose them
+to the sun, but he knew how to awaken sleepers and put waking men to
+sleep. Ah, you will see presently what he could teach! You will see!"
+
+On a table with Persian spread, beside the trench, were the things
+to be put into the cornerstone, and the glass box and leaden cylinder
+which were to preserve for the future these souvenirs, this mummy of
+an epoch.
+
+Under two long booths near at hand were sumptuous tables, one for the
+school-children, without wine, and heaped with fruits; the other for
+the distinguished visitors. The booths were joined by a sort of bower
+of leafy branches, where were chairs for the musicians, and tables with
+cakes, confitures, and carafes of water, for the public in general.
+
+The crowd, gay in garments of many colors, was massed under the trees
+to avoid the ardent rays of the sun, and the children, to better see
+the ceremony of the dedication, had climbed up among the branches.
+
+Soon bands were heard in the distance. The Mongol carefully examined
+his construction; he seemed nervous. A man with the appearance of a
+peasant standing near him on the edge of the excavation and close
+beside the capstan watched all his movements. It was Elias, well
+disguised by his salakot and rustic costume.
+
+The musicians arrived, preceded by a crowd of old and young in motley
+array. Behind came the alcalde, the municipal guard officers, the
+monks, and the Spanish Government clerks. Ibarra was talking with
+the alcalde; Captain Tiago, the alférez, the curate and a number of
+the rich country gentlemen accompanied the ladies, whose gay parasols
+gleamed in the sunshine.
+
+As they approached the trench, Ibarra felt his heart
+beat. Instinctively he raised his eyes to the strange scaffolding. The
+Mongol saluted him respectfully, and looked at him intently a
+moment. Ibarra recognized Elias through his disguise, and the
+mysterious helmsman, by a significant glance, recalled the warning
+in the church.
+
+The curate put on his robes and began the office. The one-eyed
+sacristan held his book; a choir boy had in charge the holy water
+and sprinkler. The men uncovered, and the crowd stood so silent that,
+though the father read low, his voice was heard to tremble.
+
+The manuscripts, journals, money, and medals to be preserved in
+remembrance of this day had been placed in the glass box and the box
+itself hermetically sealed within the leaden cylinder.
+
+"Señor Ibarra, will you place the box in the stone? The curate is
+waiting for you," said the alcalde in Ibarra's ear.
+
+"I should do so with great pleasure," said Ibarra, "but it would be
+a usurpation of the honor; that belongs to the notary, who must draw
+up the written process."
+
+The notary gravely took the box, descended the carpeted stairway which
+led to the bottom of the trench, and with due solemnity deposited
+his burden in the hollow of the stone already laid. The curate took
+the sprinkler and sprinkled the stone with holy water.
+
+Each one was now to deposit his trowel of cement on the surface of
+the lower stone, to seal it to the stone held suspended by the crane
+when that should be lowered.
+
+Ibarra offered the alcalde a silver trowel, on which was engraved
+the date of the fête, but before using it His Excellency pronounced
+a short allocution in Castilian.
+
+"Citizens of San Diego," he said, "we have the honor of presiding
+at a ceremony whose importance you know without explanations. We are
+founding a school, and the school is the basis of society, the book
+wherein is written the future of each race.
+
+"Citizens of San Diego! Thank God, who has given you these
+priests! Thank the Mother Country, who spreads civilization in these
+fertile isles and protects them with the covering of her glorious
+mantle. Thank God, again, who has enlightened you by his priests from
+his divine Word.
+
+"And now that the first stone of this building has been blessed, we,
+the alcalde of this province, in the name of His Majesty the King,
+whom God guard; in the name of the illustrious Spanish Government,
+and under the protection of its spotless and ever-victorious flag,
+consecrate this act and begin the building of this school!
+
+"Citizens of San Diego, long live the king! Long live Spain! Long
+live the religious orders! Long live the Catholic church!"
+
+"Long live the Señor Alcalde!" replied many voices.
+
+Then the high official descended majestically, to the strains of the
+orchestras, put his trowel of cement on the stone, and came back as
+majestically as he had gone down.
+
+The Government clerks applauded.
+
+Ibarra offered the trowel to the curate, who descended slowly in his
+turn. In the middle of the staircase he raised his eyes to the great
+stone suspended above, but he stopped only a second, and continued
+the descent. This time the applause was a little warmer, Captain
+Tiago and the monks adding theirs to that of the clerks.
+
+The notary followed. He gallantly offered the trowel to Maria Clara,
+but she refused, with a smile. The monks, the alférez, and others
+descended in turn, Captain Tiago not being forgotten.
+
+Ibarra was left. He had ordered the stone to be lowered when the
+curate remembered him.
+
+"You do not put on your trowelful, Señor Ibarra?" said the curate,
+with a familiar and jocular air.
+
+"I should be Juan Palomo, who made the soup and then ate it," replied
+Crisóstomo in the same light tone.
+
+"You go down, of course," said the alcalde, taking him by the arm
+in friendly fashion. "If not, I shall order that the stone be kept
+suspended, and we shall stay here till the Day of Judgment!"
+
+Such a menace forced Ibarra to obey. He exchanged the silver trowel
+for a larger one of iron, as some people noticed, and started out
+calmly. Elias gave him an indefinable look; his whole being seemed
+in it. The Mongol's eyes were on the abyss at his feet.
+
+Ibarra, after glancing rapidly at the block over his head, at Elias,
+and at the Mongol, said to Señor Juan, in a voice that trembled:
+
+"Give me the tray and bring me the other trowel."
+
+He stood alone. Elias no longer looked at him, his eyes were riveted
+on the hands of the Mongol, who, bending over, was anxiously following
+the movements of Ibarra. Then the sound of Ibarra's trowel was heard,
+accompanied by the low murmur of the clerks' voices as they felicitated
+the alcalde on his speech.
+
+Suddenly a frightful noise rent the air. A pulley attached to the
+base of the crane sprang out, dragging after it the capstan, which
+struck the crane like a lever. The beams tottered, the cables broke,
+and the whole fabric collapsed with a deafening roar and in a whirlwind
+of dust.
+
+A thousand voices filled the place with cries of horror. People fled
+in all directions. Only Maria Clara and Brother Salvi remained where
+they were, pale, mute, incapable of motion.
+
+As the cloud of dust thinned, Ibarra was seen upright among the beams,
+joists and cables, between the capstan and the great stone that had
+fallen. He still held the trowel in his hand. With eyes frightful to
+look at, he regarded a corpse half buried under the beams at his feet.
+
+"Are you unhurt? Are you alive? For God's sake, speak!" cried some
+one at last.
+
+"A miracle! A miracle!" cried others.
+
+"Come, take out the body of this man," said Ibarra, as if waking from
+a dream. At the sound of his voice Maria Clara would have fallen but
+for the arms of her friends.
+
+Then everything was confusion. All talked at once, gestured, went
+hither and thither, and knew not what to do.
+
+"Who is killed?" demanded the alférez.
+
+"Arrest the head builder!" were the first words the alcalde could
+pronounce.
+
+They brought up the body and examined it. It was that of the
+Mongol. The heart no longer beat.
+
+The priests shook Ibarra's hand, and warmly congratulated him.
+
+"When I think that I was there a moment before!" said one of the
+clerks.
+
+"It is well they gave the trowel to you instead of me," said a
+trembling old man.
+
+"Don Pascal!" cried some of the Spaniards.
+
+"Señores, the Señor Ibarra lives, while I, if I had not been crushed,
+should have died of fright."
+
+Ibarra had been to inform himself of Maria Clara.
+
+"Let the fête continue, Señor Ibarra," said the alcalde, as he came
+back. "Thank God, the dead is neither priest nor Spaniard! You ought
+to celebrate your escape! What if the stone had fallen on you!"
+
+"He had presentiments!" cried the notary. "He did not want to go down,
+that was plain to be seen!"
+
+"It's only an Indian!"
+
+"Let the fête go on! Give us music! Mourning won't raise the
+dead. Captain, let the inquest be held! Arrest the head builder!"
+
+"Shall he be put in the stocks?"
+
+"Yes, in the stocks! Music, music! The head builder in the stocks!"
+
+"Señor Alcalde," said Ibarra, "if mourning won't raise the dead,
+neither will the imprisonment of a man whose guilt is not proven. I
+go security for his person and ask his liberty, for these fête days
+at least."
+
+"Very well! But let him not repeat it!" said the alcalde.
+
+All kinds of rumors circulated among the people. The idea of a miracle
+was generally accepted. Many said they had seen descend into the
+trench at the fatal moment a figure in a dark costume, like that of
+the Franciscans. 'Twas no doubt San Diego himself.
+
+"A bad beginning," muttered old Tasio, shaking his head as he moved
+away.
+
+
+
+
+
+XXVII.
+
+FREE THOUGHT.
+
+
+Ibarra, who had gone home for a change of clothing, had just finished
+dressing when a servant announced that a peasant wished to see
+him. Supposing it to be one of his laborers, he had him taken to
+his work room, which was at the same time his library and chemical
+laboratory. To his great surprise he found himself face to face with
+the mysterious Elias.
+
+"You saved my life," said the man, speaking in Tagalo, and
+understanding the movement of Ibarra. "I have not half paid my
+debt. Do not thank me. It is I who should thank you. I have come to
+ask a favor."
+
+"Speak!" said his listener.
+
+Elias fixed his melancholy eyes on Ibarra's and went on:
+
+"When the justice of man tries to clear up this mystery, and your
+testimony is taken, I entreat you not to speak to any one of the
+warning I gave you."
+
+"Do not be alarmed," said Crisóstomo, losing interest; "I know you
+are pursued, but I'm not an informer."
+
+"I don't speak for myself, but for you," said Elias, with some
+haughtiness. "I have no fear of men."
+
+Ibarra grew surprised. This manner of speaking was new, and did not
+comport with the state or fortunes of the helmsman.
+
+"Explain yourself!" he demanded.
+
+"I am not speaking enigmas. To insure your safety, it is necessary
+that your enemies believe you blind and confiding."
+
+"To insure my safety?" said Ibarra, thoroughly aroused.
+
+"You undertake a great enterprise," Elias went on. "You have
+a past. Your grandfather and your father had enemies. It is not
+criminals who provoke the most hatred; it is honorable men."
+
+"You know my enemies, then?"
+
+Elias hesitated.
+
+"I knew one; the dead man."
+
+"I regret his death," said Ibarra; "from him I might have learned
+more."
+
+"Had he lived, he would have escaped the trembling hand of men's
+justice. God has judged him!"
+
+"Do you also believe in the miracle of which the people talk?"
+
+"If I believed in such a miracle, I should not believe in God, and I
+believe in Him; I have more than once felt His hand. At the moment when
+the scaffolding gave way I placed myself beside the criminal." Elias
+looked at Ibarra.
+
+"You--you mean that you----"
+
+"Yes, when his deadly work was about to be done, he was going to flee;
+I held him there; I had seen his crime! Let God be the only one who
+has the right over life!"
+
+"And yet, this time you----"
+
+"No!" cried Elias. "I exposed the criminal to the risk he had prepared
+for others; I ran the risk myself; and I did not strike him; I left
+him to be struck by the hand of God!"
+
+Ibarra regarded the man in silence.
+
+"You are not a peasant," he said at last. "Who are you? Have you
+studied?"
+
+"I've need of much belief in God, since I've lost faith in men,"
+said Elias, evading the question.
+
+"But God cannot speak to resolve each of the countless contests our
+passions raise; it is necessary, it is just, that man should sometimes
+judge his kind."
+
+"For good, yes; not for evil. To correct and ameliorate, not to
+destroy; because, if man's judgments are erroneous, he has not the
+power to remedy the evil he has done. But this discussion is over my
+head, and I am detaining you. Do not forget what I came to entreat;
+save yourself for the good of your country!" And he started to go.
+
+"And when shall I see you again?"
+
+"Whenever you wish; whenever I can be of use to you; I am always
+your debtor!"
+
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII.
+
+THE BANQUET.
+
+
+All the distinguished people of the province were united in the
+carpeted and decorated booth. The alcalde was at one end of the table,
+Ibarra at the other. The talk was animated, even gay. The meal was
+half finished when a despatch was handed to Captain Tiago. He asked
+permission to read it; his face paled; then lighted up. "Señores,"
+he cried, quite beside himself, "His Excellency the captain-general
+is to honor my house with his presence!" And he started off running,
+carrying his despatch and his napkin, forgetting his hat, and pursued
+by exclamations and questions. The announcement of the tulisanes
+could not have put him to greater confusion.
+
+"Wait a moment! When is he coming? Tell us?"
+
+Captain Tiago was already in the distance.
+
+"His Excellency asks the hospitality of Captain Tiago!" the guests
+exclaimed, apparently forgetting that they spoke before his daughter
+and his future son-in-law.
+
+"He could hardly make a better choice," said Ibarra, with dignity.
+
+"This was spoken of yesterday," said the alcalde, "but His Excellency
+had not fully decided."
+
+"Do you know how long he is to stay?" asked the alférez, uneasily.
+
+"I'm not at all sure! His Excellency is fond of surprising people."
+
+Three other despatches were brought. They were for the alcalde, the
+alférez, and the gobernadorcillo, and identical, announcing the coming
+of the governor. It was remarked that there was none for the curate.
+
+"His Excellency arrives at four this afternoon," said the alcalde,
+solemnly. "We can finish our repast." It might have been Leonidas
+saying: "To-night we sup with Pluto!"
+
+The conversation returned to its former course.
+
+"I notice the absence of our great preacher," said one of the clerks,
+an honest, inoffensive fellow, who had not yet said a word. Those
+who knew the story of Ibarra's father looked significantly at one
+another. "Fools rush in," said the glances of some; but others,
+more considerate, tried to cover the error.
+
+"He must be somewhat fatigued----"
+
+"Somewhat!" cried the alférez. "He must be spent, as they say here,
+malunqueado. What a sermon!"
+
+"Superb! Herculean!" was the opinion of the notary.
+
+"Magnificent! Profound!" said a newspaper correspondent.
+
+In the other booth the children were more noisy than little Filipinos
+are wont to be, for at table or before strangers they are usually
+rather too timid than too bold. If one of them did not eat with
+propriety, his neighbor corrected him. To one a certain article was
+a spoon; to others a fork or a knife; and as nobody settled their
+questions, they were in continual uproar.
+
+Their fathers and mothers, simple peasants, looked in ravishment to
+see their children eating on a white cloth, and doing it almost as well
+as the curate or the alcalde. It was better to them than a banquet.
+
+"Yes," said a young peasant woman to an old man grinding his buyo,
+"whatever my husband says, my Andoy shall be a priest. It is true,
+we are poor; but Father Mateo says Pope Sixtu was once a keeper
+of carabaos at Batanzas! Look at my Andoy; hasn't he a face like
+St. Vincent?" and the good mother's mouth watered at the sight of
+her son with his fork in both hands!
+
+"God help us!" said the old man, munching his sapa. "If Andoy gets
+to be pope, we will go to Rome! I can walk yet! Ho! Ho!"
+
+Another peasant came up.
+
+"It's decided, neighbor," he said, "my son is to be a doctor."
+
+"A doctor! Don't speak of it!" replied Petra. "There's nothing
+like being a curate! He has only to make two or three turns and say
+'déminos pabiscum' and he gets his money."
+
+"And isn't it work to confess?"
+
+"Work! Think of the trouble we take to find out the affairs of
+our neighbors! The curate has only to sit down, and they tell him
+everything!"
+
+"And preaching? Don't you call that work?"
+
+"Preaching? Where is your head? To scold half a day from the pulpit
+without any one's daring to reply and be paid for it into the
+bargain! Look, look at Father Dámaso! See how fat he gets with his
+shouting and pounding!"
+
+In truth, Father Dámaso was that moment passing the children's booth in
+the gait peculiar to men of his size. As he entered the other booth,
+he was half smiling, but so maliciously that at sight of it Ibarra,
+who was talking, lost the thread of his speech.
+
+The guests were astonished to see the father, but every one except
+Ibarra received him with signs of pleasure. They were at the dessert,
+and the champagne was sparkling in the cups.
+
+Father Dámaso's smile became nervous when he saw Maria Clara sitting
+next Crisóstomo, but, taking a chair beside the alcalde, he said in
+the midst of a significant silence:
+
+"You were talking of something, señores; continue!"
+
+"We had come to the toasts," said the alcalde. "Señor Ibarra was
+mentioning those who had aided him in his philanthropic enterprise,
+and he was speaking of the architect when your reverence----"
+
+"Ah, well! I know nothing about architecture," interrupted Father
+Dámaso, "but I scorn architects and the simpletons who make use
+of them."
+
+"Nevertheless," said the alcalde, as Ibarra was silent, "when certain
+buildings are in question, like a school, for example, an expert
+is needed----"
+
+"An expert!" cried the father, with sarcasm. "One needs be more
+stupid than the Indians, who build their own houses, not to know how
+to raise four walls and put a roof on them. Nothing else is needed
+for a school!"
+
+Every one looked at Ibarra, but, though he grew a little pale, he
+pursued his conversation with Maria Clara.
+
+"But does your reverence consider----"
+
+"See here!" continued the Franciscan, again cutting off the
+alcalde. "See how one of our lay brothers, the most stupid one we
+have, built a hospital. He paid the workmen eight cuartos a day,
+and got them from other pueblos, too. Not much like these young
+feather-brains who ruin workmen, paying them three or four réales!"
+
+"Does your reverence say he paid but eight cuartos? Impossible!" said
+the alcalde, hoping to change the course of the conversation.
+
+"Yes, señor, and so should those do who pride themselves upon being
+good Spaniards. Since the opening of the Suez Canal, corruption has
+reached even here! When the Cape had to be doubled, not so many ruined
+men came here, and fewer went abroad to ruin themselves!"
+
+"But Father Dámaso----"
+
+"You know the Indian; as soon as he has learned anything, he takes
+a title. All these beardless youths who go to Europe----"
+
+"But, your reverence, listen----" began the alcalde, alarmed by the
+harshness of these words.
+
+"Finish as they merit," continued the priest. "The hand of God is in
+it; he is blind who does not see that. Already even the fathers of
+these reptiles receive their chastisement; they die in prison! Ah----"
+
+He did not finish. Ibarra, livid, had been watching him. At these words
+he rose, gave one bound, and struck out with his strong hand. The monk,
+stunned by the blow, fell backward.
+
+Surprised and terrified, not one of the spectators moved.
+
+"Let no one come near!" said the young man in a terrible voice,
+drawing his slender blade, and holding the neck of the priest with
+his foot. "Let no one come, unless he wishes to die."
+
+Ibarra was beside himself, his whole body trembled, his threatening
+eyes were big with rage. Father Dámaso, regaining his senses, made
+an effort to rise, but Crisóstomo, grasping his neck, shook him till
+he had brought him to his knees.
+
+"Señor de Ibarra! Señor de Ibarra!" stammered one and another. But
+nobody, not even the alférez, risked a movement. They saw the knife
+glitter; they calculated Crisóstomo's strength, unleashed by anger;
+they were paralyzed.
+
+"All you here, you have said nothing. Now it rests with me. I avoided
+him; God brings him to me. Let God judge!"
+
+Ibarra breathed with effort, but his arm of iron kept harsh hold of
+the Franciscan, who struggled in vain to free himself.
+
+"My heart beats true, my hand is firm----" And he looked about him.
+
+"I ask you first, is there among you any one who has not loved his
+father, who has not loved his father's memory; any one born in shame
+and abasement? See, hear this silence! Priest of a God of peace, thy
+mouth full of sanctity and religion, thy heart of corruption! Thou
+canst not know what it is to be a father; thou shouldst have thought
+of thy own! See, in all this crowd that you scorn there is not one
+like you! You are judged!"
+
+The guests, believing he was going to strike, made their first
+movement.
+
+"Do not come near us!" he cried again in the same threatening
+voice. "What? You fear I shall stain my hand in impure blood? Did I not
+tell you that my heart beats true? Away from us, and listen, priests,
+believing yourselves different from other men, giving yourselves other
+rights! My father was an honorable man. Ask the country which venerates
+his memory. My father was a good citizen, who sacrificed himself for
+me and for his country's good. His house was open, his table set for
+the stranger or the exile who should turn to him! He was a Christian;
+always doing good, never pressing the weak, nor forcing tears from
+the wretched. As to this man, he opened his door to him, made him
+sit down at his table, and called him friend. And how did the man
+respond? He falsely accused him; he pursued him; he armed ignorance
+against him! Confiding in the sanctity of his office, he outraged his
+tomb, dishonored his memory; his hate troubled even the rest of the
+dead. And not yet satisfied, he now pursues the son. I fled from him,
+avoided his presence. You heard him this morning profane the chair,
+point me out to the people's fanaticism; but I said nothing. Now,
+he comes here to seek a quarrel; I suffer in silence, until he again
+insults a memory sacred to all sons.
+
+"You who are here, priests, magistrates, have you seen your old
+father give himself for you, part from you for your good, die of
+grief in a prison, looking for your embrace, looking for consolation
+from any one who would bring it, sick, alone; while you in a foreign
+land? Then have you heard his name dishonored, found his tomb empty
+when you went there to pray? No? You are silent; then you condemn him!"
+
+He raised his arm. But a girl, rapid as light, threw herself between
+him and the priest, and with her fragile hands held the avenging
+arm. It was Maria Clara. Ibarra looked at her with eyes like a
+madman's. Then, little by little, his tense fingers relaxed; he let
+fall the knife, and, covering his face with his hands, he fled.
+
+
+
+
+
+XXIX.
+
+OPINIONS.
+
+
+The noise of the affair spread rapidly. At first no one believed it,
+but when there was no longer room for doubt, each made his comments,
+according to the degree of his moral elevation.
+
+"Father Dámaso is dead," said some. "When he was carried away, his
+face was congested with blood, and he no longer breathed."
+
+"May he rest in peace, but he has only paid his debt!" said a young
+stranger.
+
+"Why do you say that?"
+
+"One of us students who came from Manila for the fête left the church
+when the sermon in Tagalo began, saying it was Greek to him. Father
+Dámaso sent for him afterward, and they came to blows."
+
+"Are we returning to the times of Nero?" asked another student.
+
+"You mistake," replied the first. "Nero was an artist, and Father
+Dámaso is a jolly poor preacher!"
+
+The men of more years talked otherwise.
+
+"To say which was wrong and which right is not easy," said the
+gobernadorcillo, "and yet, if Señor Ibarra had been more moderate----"
+
+"You probably mean, if Father Dámaso had shown half the moderation of
+Señor Ibarra," interrupted Don Filipo. "The pity is that the rôles
+were interchanged: the youth conducted himself like an old man,
+and the old man like a youth."
+
+"And you say nobody but the daughter of Captain Tiago came between
+them? Not a monk, nor the alcalde?" asked Captain Martin. "I wouldn't
+like to be in the young man's shoes. None of those who were afraid
+of him will ever forgive him. Hah, that's the worst of it!"
+
+"You think so?" demanded Captain Basilio, with interest.
+
+"I hope," said Don Filipo, exchanging glances with Captain Basilio,
+"that the pueblo isn't going to desert him. His friends at least----"
+
+"But, señores," interrupted the gobernadorcillo, "what can we
+do? What can the pueblo? Whatever happens, the monks are always in
+the right----"
+
+"They are always in the right, because we always say they're in the
+right. Let us say we are in the right for once, and then we shall
+have something to talk about!"
+
+The gobernadorcillo shook his head.
+
+"Ah, the young blood!" he said. "You don't seem to know what country
+you live in; you don't know your compatriots. The monks are rich;
+they are united; we are poor and divided. Try to defend him and you
+will see how you are left to compromise yourself alone!"
+
+"Yes," cried Don Filipo bitterly, "and it will be so as long as fear
+and prudence are supposed to be synonymous. Each thinks of himself,
+nobody of any one else; that is why we are weak!"
+
+"Very well! Think of others and see how soon the others will let
+you hang!"
+
+"I've had enough of it!" cried the exasperated lieutenant. "I shall
+give my resignation to the alcalde to-day."
+
+The women had still other thoughts.
+
+"Aye!" said one of them. "Young people are always the same. If his
+good mother were living, what would she say? When I think that my son,
+who is a young hothead, too, might have done the same thing----"
+
+"I'm not with you," said another woman. "I should have nothing against
+my two sons if they did as Don Crisóstomo."
+
+"What are you saying, Capitana Maria?" cried the first woman, clasping
+her hands.
+
+"I'm a poor stupid," said a third, the Capitana Tinay, "but I know
+what I'm going to do. I'm going to tell my son not to study any
+more. They say men of learning all die on the gallows. Holy Mary,
+and my son wants to go to Europe!"
+
+"If I were rich as you, my children should travel," said the Capitana
+Maria. "Our sons ought to aspire to be more than their fathers. I
+have not long to live, and we shall meet again in the other world."
+
+"Your ideas, Capitana Maria, are little Christian," said Sister
+Rufa severely. "Make yourself a sister of the Sacred Rosary, or of
+St. Francis."
+
+"Sister Rufa, when I'm a worthy sister of men, I will think about
+being a sister of the saints," said the capitana, smiling.
+
+Under the booth where the children had their feast the father of the
+one who was to be a doctor was talking.
+
+"What troubles me most," said he, "is that the school will not be
+finished; my son will not be a doctor, but a carter."
+
+"Who said there wouldn't be a school?"
+
+"I say so. The White Fathers have called Don Crisóstomo
+plibastiero. There won't be any school."
+
+The peasants questioned each other's faces. The word was new to them.
+
+"And is that a bad name?" one at last ventured to ask.
+
+"It's the worst one Christian can give another."
+
+"Worse than tarantado and saragate?"
+
+"If it weren't, it wouldn't amount to much."
+
+"Come now. It can't be worse than indio, as the alférez says."
+
+He whose son was to be a carter looked gloomy. The other shook his
+head and reflected.
+
+"Then is it as bad as betalapora, that the old woman of the alférez
+says?"
+
+"You remember the word ispichoso (suspect), which had only to be said
+of a man to have the guards lead him off to prison? Well, plibastiero
+is worse yet; if any one calls you plibastiero, you can confess and
+pay your debts, for there's nothing else left to do but get yourself
+hanged. That's what the telegrapher and the sub-director say, and
+you know whether the telegrapher and the sub-director ought to know:
+one talks with iron wires, and the other knows Spanish, and handles
+nothing but the pen."
+
+The last hope fled.
+
+
+
+
+
+XXX.
+
+THE FIRST CLOUD.
+
+
+The home of Captain Tiago was naturally not less disturbed than the
+minds of the crowd. Maria Clara refused to be comforted by her aunt
+and her foster-sister. Her father had forbidden her to speak to
+Crisóstomo until the ban of excommunication should be raised.
+
+In the midst of his preparations for receiving the governor-general
+Captain Tiago was summoned to the convent.
+
+"Don't cry, my child," said Aunt Isabel, as she polished the mirrors
+with a chamois skin, "the ban will be raised. They will write to the
+holy father. We will make a big offering. Father Dámaso only fainted;
+he isn't dead!"
+
+"Don't cry," whispered Andeng; "I will arrange to meet Crisóstomo."
+
+At last Captain Tiago came back. They scanned his face for answers to
+many questions; but the face of Captain Tiago spoke discouragement. The
+poor man passed his hand across his brow and seemed unable to frame
+a word.
+
+"Well, Santiago?" demanded the anxious aunt.
+
+He wiped away a tear and replied by a sigh.
+
+"Speak, for heaven's sake! What is it?"
+
+"What I all the time feared," he said at last, conquering his
+tears. "Everything is lost! Father Dámaso orders me to break the
+promise of marriage. They all say the same thing, even Father Sibyla. I
+must shut the doors of my house to him, and--I owe him more than fifty
+thousand pesos! I told the fathers so, but they wouldn't take it into
+account. 'Which would you rather lose,' they said, 'fifty thousand
+pesos or your soul?' Ah, St. Anthony, if I had known, if I had known!"
+
+Maria Clara was sobbing.
+
+"Don't cry, my child," he said, turning to her; "you aren't like your
+mother; she never cried. Father Dámaso told me that a young friend
+of his is coming from Spain; he intends him for your fiancé----"
+
+Maria Clara stopped her ears.
+
+"But, Santiago, are you mad?" cried Aunt Isabel. "Speak to her of
+another fiancé now? Do you think your daughter changes them as she
+does her gloves?"
+
+"I have thought about it, Isabel; but what would you have me do? They
+threaten me, too, with excommunication."
+
+"And you do nothing but distress your daughter! Aren't you the friend
+of the archbishop? Why don't you write to him?"
+
+"The archbishop is a monk, too. He will do only what the monks say. But
+don't cry, Maria; the governor-general is coming. He will want to
+see you, and your eyes will be red. Alas, I thought I was going to
+have such a good afternoon! Without this misfortune I should be the
+happiest of men, with everybody envying me! Be calm, my child, I am
+more unhappy than you, and I don't cry. You may find a better fiancé;
+but as for me, I lose fifty thousand pesos! Ah, Virgin of Antipolo,
+if only I have luck tonight!"
+
+Salvos, the sound of wheels and of horses galloping, the band
+playing the Royal March, announced the arrival of His Excellency the
+governor-general of the Philippine Islands. Maria Clara ran to hide
+in her chamber. Poor girl! Her heart was at the mercy of rude hands
+that had no sense of its delicate fibres.
+
+While the house was filling with people, while heavy footsteps,
+words of command, and the hurling of sabres and spurs resounded all
+about, the poor child, heart-broken, was half-lying, half-kneeling
+before that picture of the Virgin where Delaroche represents her in a
+grievous solitude, as though he had surprised her returning from the
+sepulchre of her son. Maria Clara did not think of the grief of this
+mother; she thought only of her own. Her head bent on her breast,
+her hands pressed against the floor, she seemed a lily broken by
+the storm. A future for years caressed in dreams, illusions born in
+childhood, fostered in youth, grown a part of her being, they thought
+to shatter all these with a word, to drive it all out of her mind
+and heart. A devout Catholic, a loving daughter, the excommunication
+terrified her. Not so much her father's commands as her desire for
+his peace of mind demanded from her the sacrifice of her love. And
+in this moment she felt for the first time the full strength of her
+affection for Crisóstomo. The peaceful river glides over its sandy bed
+under the nodding flowers along its banks; the wind scarcely ridges
+its current; it seems to sleep; but farther down the banks close in,
+rough rocks choke the channel, a heap of knotty trunks forms a dyke;
+then the river roars, revolts, its waters whirl, and shake their
+plumes of spray, and, raging, beat the rocks and rush on madly. So
+this tranquil love was now transformed and the tempests were let loose.
+
+She would have prayed; but who can pray without hope? "O God!" her
+heart complained. "Why refuse a man the love of others? Thou givest
+him the sunshine and the air; thou dost not hide from him the sight
+of heaven. Why take away that love without which he cannot live?"
+
+The poor child, who had never known a mother of her own, had brought
+her grief to that pure heart which knew only filial and maternal
+love, to that divine image of womanhood of whose tenderness we dream,
+whom we call Mary.
+
+"Mother, mother!" she sobbed.
+
+Aunt Isabel came to find her; her friends were there, and the
+governor-general had asked for her.
+
+"Dear aunt, tell them I am ill!" she begged in terror. "They will
+want me to play and sing!"
+
+"Your father has promised. Would you make your father break his word?"
+
+Maria Clara rose, looked at her aunt, threw out her beautiful arms with
+a sob, then stood still till she was outwardly calm, and went to obey.
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXI.
+
+HIS EXCELLENCY.
+
+
+"I want to talk with that young man," said the general to one of his
+aids; "he rouses all my interest."
+
+"He has been sent for, my general; but there is here another young
+man of Manila who insists upon seeing you. We told him you have not
+the time; that you did not come to give audiences. He replied that
+Your Excellency has always the time to do justice."
+
+The general, perplexed, turned to the alcalde.
+
+"If I am not mistaken," said the alcalde, with an inclination of the
+head, "it is a student who this morning had trouble with Father Dámaso
+about the sermon."
+
+"Another still? Has this monk started out to put the province to
+revolt, or does he think he commands here? Admit the young man!" And
+the governor got up and walked nervously back and forth.
+
+In the ante-chamber some Spanish officers and all the functionaries of
+the pueblo were talking in groups. All the monks, too, except Father
+Dámaso, had come to pay their respects to the governor.
+
+"His Excellency begs your reverences to attend a moment," said the
+aide-de-camp. "Enter, young man!"
+
+The young Manilian who confounded the Tagalo with the Greek entered,
+trembling.
+
+Every one was greatly astonished. His Excellency must be much annoyed
+to make the monks wait this way. Said Brother Sibyla:
+
+"I have nothing to say to him, and I'm wasting my time here."
+
+"I also," said an Augustin. "Shall we go?"
+
+"Would it not be better to find out what he thinks?" asked Brother
+Salvi. "We should avoid a scandal, and we could remind him--of his
+duty----"
+
+"Your reverences may enter," said the aid, conducting back the young
+man, who came out radiant.
+
+The fathers went in and saluted the governor.
+
+"Who among your reverences is the Brother Dámaso?" demanded His
+Excellency at once, without asking them to be seated or inquiring for
+their health, and without any of those complimentary phrases which
+form the repertory of dignitaries.
+
+"Señor, Father Dámaso is not with us," replied Father Sibyla, in a
+tone almost as dry.
+
+"Your Excellency's servant is ill," added the humble Brother Salvi. "We
+come, after saluting Your Excellency and inquiring for his health,
+to speak in the name of Your Excellency's respectful servant, who
+has had the misfortune----"
+
+"Oh!" interrupted the captain-general, with a nervous smile, while he
+twirled a chair on one leg. "If all the servants of my Excellency were
+like the Father Dámaso, I should prefer to serve my Excellency myself!"
+
+Their reverences did not seem to know what to reply.
+
+"Won't your reverences sit down?" added the governor in more
+conventional tone.
+
+Captain Tiago, in evening dress and walking on tiptoe, came in,
+leading by the hand Maria Clara, hesitating, timid. Overcoming her
+agitation, she made her salute, at once ceremonial and graceful.
+
+"This sigñorita is your daughter!" exclaimed the surprised
+governor. "Happy the fathers whose daughters are like you,
+sigñorita. They have told me about you, and I wish to thank you in the
+name of His Majesty the King, who loves the peace and tranquillity
+of his subjects, and in my own name, in that of a father who has
+daughters. If there is anything you would wish, sigñorita----"
+
+"Señor!" protested Maria, trembling.
+
+"The Señor Don Juan Crisóstomo Ibarra awaits Your Excellency's orders,"
+announced the ringing voice of the aide-de-camp.
+
+"Permit me, sigñorita, to see you again before I leave the pueblo. I
+have yet things to say to you. Señor acalde, Your Highness will
+accompany me on the walk I wish to take after the private conference
+I shall have with the Señor Ibarra."
+
+"Your Excellency," said Father Salvi humbly, "will permit us to inform
+him that the Señor Ibarra is excommunicated----"
+
+The general broke in.
+
+"I am happy," he said, "in being troubled about nothing but the state
+of Father Dámaso. I sincerely desire his complete recovery, for,
+at his age, a voyage to Spain in search of health would be somewhat
+disagreeable. But all depends upon him. Meanwhile, God preserve the
+health of your reverences!"
+
+All retired.
+
+"In his own case also everything depends upon him," murmured Brother
+Salvi as he went out.
+
+"We shall see who makes the earliest voyage to Spain!" added another
+Franciscan.
+
+"I shall go immediately," said Father Sibyla, in vexation.
+
+"We, too," grumbled the Augustins.
+
+Both parties bore it ill that for the fault of a Franciscan His
+Excellency should have received them so coldly.
+
+In the ante-chamber they encountered Ibarra, who a few hours before
+had been their host. There was no exchange of greetings, but there
+were eloquent looks. The alcalde, on the contrary, gave Ibarra his
+hand. On the threshold Crisóstomo met Maria coming out. Looks spoke
+again, but very differently this time.
+
+Though this encounter with the monks had seemed to him of bad augury,
+Ibarra presented himself in the utmost calm. He bowed profoundly. The
+captain-general came forward.
+
+"It gives me the greatest satisfaction, Señor Ibarra, to take you
+by the hand. I hope for your entire confidence." And he examined the
+young man with evident satisfaction.
+
+"Señor, so much kindness----"
+
+"Your surprise shows that you did not expect a friendly reception;
+that was to doubt my fairness."
+
+"A friendly reception, señor, for an insignificant subject of His
+Majesty, like myself, is not fairness, but favor."
+
+"Well, well!" said the general, sitting down and motioning Crisóstomo
+to a seat. "Let us have a moment of open hearts. I am much gratified
+by what you are doing, and have proposed you to the Government of
+His Majesty for a decoration in recompense for your project of the
+school. Had you invited me, I should have found it a pleasure to be
+here for the ceremony. Perhaps I should have been able to save you an
+annoyance. But as to what happened between you and Father Dámaso, have
+neither fear nor regrets. Not a hair of your head shall be harmed so
+long as I govern the islands; and in regard to the excommunication,
+I will talk with the archbishop. We must conform ourselves to our
+circumstances. We cannot laugh at it here, as we might in Europe. But
+be more prudent in the future. You have weighted yourself with the
+religious orders, who, from their office and their wealth, must
+be respected. I protect you, because I like a good son. By heaven,
+I don't know what I should have done in your place!"
+
+Then, quickly changing the subject, he said:
+
+"They tell me you have just returned from Europe. You were in Madrid?"
+
+"Yes, señor, several months."
+
+"How happens it that you return without bringing me a letter of
+recommendation?"
+
+"Señor," replied Ibarra, bowing, "because, having heard there of the
+character of Your Excellency, I thought a letter of recommendation
+would not only be unnecessary, but might even offend you; the Filipinos
+are all recommended to you."
+
+A smile curled the lips of the old soldier, who replied slowly,
+as though meditating and weighing his words:
+
+"I cannot help being flattered that you think so. And yet, young
+man, you should know what a weight rests on our shoulders. Here we
+old soldiers have to be all--king, ministers of state, of war, of
+justice, of everything; and yet, in every event, we have to consult
+the far-off mother country, which often must approve or reject our
+propositions with blind justice. If in Spain itself, with the advantage
+of everything near and familiar, all is imperfect and defective,
+the wonder is that all here is not revolution. It is not lack of good
+will in the governors, but we must use the eyes and arms of strangers,
+of whom, for the most part, we can know nothing, and who, instead of
+serving their country, may be serving only their own interests. The
+monks are a powerful aid, but they are not sufficient. You inspire
+great interest in me, and I would not have the imperfection of our
+governmental system tell in anyway against you. I cannot watch over
+any one; every one cannot come to me. Tell me, can I be useful to
+you in any way? Have you any request to make?"
+
+Ibarra reflected.
+
+"Señor," he replied, "my great desire is for the happiness of my
+country, and I would that happiness might be due to the efforts
+of our mother country and of my fellow-citizens united to her and
+united among themselves by the eternal bonds of common views and
+interests. What I would ask, the Government alone can give, and that
+after many continuous years of labor and of well-conceived reforms."
+
+The general gave him a long look, which Ibarra bore naturally,
+without timidity, without boldness.
+
+"You are the first man with whom I've spoken in this country," cried
+His Excellency, stretching out his hand.
+
+"Your Excellency has seen only those who while away their lives
+in cities; he has not visited the falsely maligned cabins of our
+villages. There Your Excellency would be able to see veritable men,
+if to be a man a noble heart and simple manners are enough."
+
+The captain-general rose and walked up and down the room.
+
+"Señor Ibarra," he said, stopping before Crisóstomo, "your education
+and manner of thinking are not for this country. Sell what you own
+and come with me when I go back to Europe; the climate will be better
+for you."
+
+"I shall remember all my life this kindness of Your Excellency,"
+replied Ibarra, moved; "but I must live in the country where my
+parents lived----"
+
+"Where they died, you would say more justly. Believe me, I, perhaps,
+know your country better than you do yourself. Ah, but I forget! You
+are to marry an adorable girl, and I'm keeping you from her all this
+time! Go--go to her! And that you may have more freedom, send the
+father to me," he added, smiling. "Don't forget, though, that I want
+your company for the promenade."
+
+Ibarra saluted, and went out.
+
+The general called his aide-de-camp.
+
+"I am pleased," said he, giving him a light tap on the shoulder;
+"I have seen to-day for the first time how one may be a good Spaniard
+without ceasing to be a good Filipino. What a pity that this Ibarra
+some day or other----but call the alcalde."
+
+The judge at once presented himself.
+
+"Señor alcalde," said the general, "to avoid a repetition of scenes
+like those of which you were a spectator to-day--scenes, I deplore,
+because they reflect upon the Government and upon all Spaniards--I
+recommend the Señor Ibarra to your utmost care and consideration."
+
+The alcalde perceived the reprimand and lowered his eyes.
+
+Captain Tiago presented himself, stiff and unnatural.
+
+"Don Santiago," the general said affectionately, "a moment ago I
+congratulated you upon having a daughter like the Señorita de los
+Santos. Now I make you my compliments upon your future son-in-law. The
+most virtuous of daughters is worthy of the first citizen of the
+Philippines. May I know the day of the wedding?"
+
+"Señor----" stammered Captain Tiago, wiping drops of sweat from
+his brow.
+
+"Then nothing is settled, I see. If witnesses are lacking, it will
+give me the greatest pleasure to be one of them."
+
+"Yes, señor," said Captain Tiago, with a smile to stir compassion.
+
+Ibarra had gone off almost running to find Maria Clara. He had so much
+to talk over with her. Through a door he heard the murmur of girls'
+voices. He knocked.
+
+"Who is there?" asked Maria.
+
+"I."
+
+The voices were hushed, but the door did not open.
+
+"It's I. May I come in?" demanded Crisóstomo, his heart beginning to
+beat violently.
+
+The silence continued. After some moments, light foot-steps approached
+the door, and the voice of Sinang said through the keyhole:
+
+"Crisóstomo, we're going to the theatre to-night. Write what you have
+to say to Maria Clara."
+
+"What does that mean?" said Ibarra to himself as he slowly left
+the door.
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXII.
+
+THE PROCESSION.
+
+
+That evening, in the light of countless lanterns, to the sound of
+bells and of continuous detonations, the procession started for the
+fourth time.
+
+The captain-general, who had set out on foot, accompanied by his two
+aides-de-camp, Captain Tiago, the alcalde, the alférez, and Ibarra, and
+preceded by the guards, to open a passage, was to view the procession
+from the house of the gobernadorcillo. This functionary had built a
+platform for the recitation of a loa, a religious poem in honor of
+the patron saint.
+
+Ibarra would gladly have renounced the hearing of this composition,
+but His Excellency had ordered his attendance, and Crisóstomo must
+console himself with the thought of seeing his fiancée at the theatre.
+
+The procession began by the march of the silver candelabra, borne
+by three sacristans. Then came the school children and their
+master, then other children, all with paper lanterns, shaped and
+ornamented according to the taste of each child--for each was
+his own lantern-maker--hoisted on bamboo poles of various lengths
+and lighted by bits of candles. An effigy of St. John the Baptist
+followed, borne on a litter, and then came St. Francis, surrounded by
+crystal lamps. A band followed, and then the standard of the saint,
+borne by the brothers of the Third Order, praying aloud in a sort of
+lamentation. San Diego came next, his car drawn by six brothers of the
+Third Order, probably fulfilling some vow. St. Mary Magdalen followed
+him, a beautiful image with splendid hair, wearing a costume of silk
+spangled with gold, and holding a handkerchief of embroidered piña
+in her jewelled hands. Lights and incense surrounded her, and her
+glass tears reflected the varied colors of Bengal lights. St. John
+the Baptist moved far ahead, as if ashamed of his camel's hair beside
+all this gold and glitter.
+
+After the Magdalen came the women of the order, the elder first, so
+that the young girls should surround the car of the Virgin; behind
+them was the curate under his dais. The car of the Virgin was preceded
+by men dressed as phantoms, to the great terror of the children;
+the women wore habits like those of religious orders. In the midst of
+this obscure mass of robes and cowls and cordons one saw, like dainty
+jasmines, like fresh sampages amid old rags, twelve little girls in
+white, their hair free. Their eyes shone like their necklaces. One
+might have thought them little genii of the light taken prisoner by
+spectres. By two wide blue ribbons they were attached to the car of
+the Virgin, like the doves which draw the car of Spring.
+
+At the gobernadorcillo's the procession stopped, all the images and
+their attendants were drawn up around the platform, and all eyes were
+fixed on the half-open curtain. At length it parted, and a young man
+appeared, winged, booted like a cavalier, with sash and belt and plumed
+hat, and in Latin, Castilian, and Tagal recited a poem as extraordinary
+as his attire. The verses ended, St. John pursued his bitter way.
+
+At the moment when the figure of the Virgin passed the house of Captain
+Tiago, a celestial song greeted it. It was a voice, sweet and tender,
+almost weeping out the Gounod "Ave Maria." The music of the procession
+died away, the prayers ceased. Father Salvi himself stood still. The
+voice trembled; it drew tears; it was more than a salutation: it was
+a supplication and a complaint.
+
+Ibarra heard, and fear and darkness entered his heart. He felt the
+suffering in the voice and dared not ask himself whence it came.
+
+The captain-general was speaking to him.
+
+"I should like your company at table. We will talk to those children
+who have disappeared," he said.
+
+Crisóstomo, looking at the general without seeing him, asked himself
+under his breath: "Can I be the cause?" And he followed the governor
+mechanically.
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXIII.
+
+DOÑA CONSOLACION.
+
+
+Why were the windows of the house of the alférez not only without
+lanterns, but shuttered? Where, when the procession passed, were the
+masculine head with its great veins and purple lips, the flannel shirt,
+and the big cigar of the "Muse of the Municipal Guard"?
+
+The house was sad, as Sinang said, because the people were gay. Had
+not a sentinel paced as usual before the door one might have thought
+the place uninhabited.
+
+A feeble light showed the disorder of the room, where the alféreza
+was sitting, and pierced the dusty and spider-webbed conches of the
+windows. The dame, according to her idle custom, was dozing in a
+fauteuil. To deaden the sound of the bombs, she had coifed her head
+in a handkerchief, from which escaped her tangled hair, short and
+thin. This morning she had not been to mass, not because she did not
+wish it, but because her husband had not permitted it, accompanying
+his prohibition with oaths and threats of blows. Doña Consolacion
+was now dreaming of revenge. She bestirred herself at last and ran
+over the house from one end to the other, her dark face disquieting
+to look at. A spark flashed from her eyes like that from the pupil
+of a serpent trapped and about to be crushed. It was cold, luminous,
+penetrating; it was viscous, cruel, repulsive. The smallest error on
+the part of a servant, the least noise, drew forth words injurious
+enough to smirch the soul; but nobody replied; to offer excuse would
+have been to commit another crime.
+
+In this way the day passed. Meeting no opposition--her husband had
+been invited to the gobernadorcillo's--she stored up spleen; the
+cells of her organism seemed slowly charging with electric force,
+which burst out, later on, in a tempest.
+
+Sisa had been in the barracks since her arrest the day before. The
+alférez, fearing she might become the sport of the crowd, had ordered
+her to be kept until the fête was over.
+
+This evening, whether she had heard the song of Maria Clara, whether
+the bands had recalled airs that she knew, for some reason she began to
+chant, in her sympathetic voice, the songs of her youth. The soldiers
+heard and became still; they knew these airs, had sung them themselves
+when they were young and free and innocent. Doña Consolacion heard,
+too, and inquired for the singer.
+
+"Have her come up at once," she said, after a moment's reflection,
+something like a smile flickering on her dry lips.
+
+The soldiers brought Sisa, who came without fear or question. When
+she entered she seemed to see no one, which wounded the vanity of
+the dreadful muse. Doña Consolacion coughed, motioned the soldiers
+to withdraw, and, taking down her husband's riding whip, said in a
+sinister voice:
+
+"Vamos, magcanter icau!"
+
+It was an order to sing, in a mixture of Castilian and Tagalo. Doña
+Consolacion affected ignorance of her native tongue, thinking thus to
+give herself the air of a veritable Orofea, as she said in her attempt
+at Europea. For if she martyred the Tagalo, she treated Castilian
+worse, though her husband, and chairs and shoes, had contributed to
+giving her lessons.
+
+Sisa had been happy enough not to understand. The forehead of the
+shrew unknotted a bit, and a look of satisfaction animated her face.
+
+"Tell this woman to sing!" she said to the orderly. "She doesn't
+understand; she doesn't know Spanish!"
+
+The orderly spoke to Sisa, and she began at once the "Night Song."
+
+At first Doña Consolacion listened with a mocking smile, but little
+by little it left her lips. She became attentive, then serious. Her
+dry and withered heart received the rain. "The sadness, the cold,
+the dew come down from the sky in the mantle of the night," seemed
+to fall upon her heart; she understood "the flower, full of vanity,
+and prodigal with its splendors in the sun, now, at the fall of day,
+withered and stained, repentant and disillusioned, trying to raise
+its poor petals toward heaven, begging a shade to hide it from the
+mockery of the sun, who had seen it in its pomp, and was laughing at
+the impotence of its pride; begging also a drop of dew to be let fall
+upon it."
+
+"No! Stop singing!" she cried in perfect Tagal. "Stop! These verses
+bore me!"
+
+Sisa stopped. The orderly thought: "Ah, she knows the Tagal!" And he
+regarded his mistress with admiration.
+
+She saw she had betrayed herself, became ashamed, and shame in her
+unfeminine nature meant rage. She showed the door to the imprudent
+orderly, and shut it behind him with a blow. Then she took several
+turns around the room, wringing the whip in her nervous hands. At last,
+planting herself before Sisa, she said to her in Spanish: "Dance!"
+
+Sisa did not move.
+
+"Dance! Dance!" she repeated in a threatening voice. The poor thing
+looked at her with vacant eyes. The vixen took hold of one of her
+arms and then the other, raising them and swaying them about. It was
+of no use. Sisa did not understand.
+
+In vain Doña Consolacion began to leap about, making signs for Sisa to
+imitate her. In the distance a band was playing a slow and majestic
+march; but the creature leaped furiously to another measure, beating
+within herself. Sisa looked on, motionless. A faint curiosity rose
+in her eyes, a feeble smile moved her pale lips; the alféreza's dance
+pleased her.
+
+The dancer stopped, as if ashamed, and raised the terrible whip,
+well known to thieves and soldiers.
+
+"Now," said she, "it's your turn! Dance!" And she began to give light
+taps to the bare feet of bewildered Sisa, whose face contracted with
+pain; the poor thing tried to ward off the blows with her hands.
+
+"Ah! You're beginning, are you?" cried Doña Consolacion, with savage
+joy, and from lento, she passed to allegro vivace.
+
+Sisa cried out and drew up first one foot and then the other.
+
+"Will you dance, accursed Indian!" and the whip whistled.
+
+Sisa let herself fall to the floor, trying to cover her feet,
+and looking at her tormenter with haggard eyes. Two lashes on the
+shoulders forced her to rise with screams.
+
+Her thin chemise was torn, the skin broken and the blood flowing.
+
+This excited Doña Consolacion still more.
+
+"Dance! Dance!" she howled, and seizing Sisa with one hand, while
+she beat her with the other, she commenced to leap about again.
+
+At length Sisa understood, and followed, moving her arms without
+rhythm or measure. A smile of satisfaction came to the lips of the
+horrible woman--the smile of a female Mephistopheles who has found
+an apt pupil: hate, scorn, mockery, and cruelty were in it; a burst
+of demoniacal laughter could not have said more.
+
+Absorbed by her delight in this spectacle, the alféreza did not know
+that her husband had arrived until the door was violently thrown open
+with a kick.
+
+The alférez was pale and morose. When he saw what was going on, he
+darted a terrible glance at his wife, then quietly put his hand on
+the shoulder of the strange dancer, and stopped her motion. Sisa,
+breathing hard, sat down on the floor. He called the orderly.
+
+"Take this woman away," he said; "see that she is properly cared for,
+and has a good dinner and a good bed. To-morrow she is to be taken
+to Señor Ibarra's."
+
+Then he carefully closed the door after them, pushed the bolt, and
+approached his wife.
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXIV.
+
+RIGHT AND MIGHT.
+
+
+It was ten o'clock in the evening. The first rockets were slowly
+going up in the dark sky, where bright-colored balloons shone like new
+stars. On the ridge-poles of the houses men were seen armed with bamboo
+poles, with pails of water at hand. Their dark silhouettes against the
+clear gray of the night seemed phantoms come to share in the gayety of
+men. They were there to look out for balloons that might fall burning.
+
+Crowds of people were going toward the plaza to see the last play
+at the theatre. Bengal fires burned here and there, grouping the
+merry-makers fantastically.
+
+The grand estrade was magnificently illuminated. Thousands of lights
+were fixed round the pillars, hung from the roof and clustered near
+the ground.
+
+In front of the stage the orchestra was tuning its instruments. The
+dignitaries of the pueblo, the Spaniards, and wealthy strangers
+occupied seats in rows. The people filled the rest of the place;
+some had brought benches, rather to mount them than to sit on them,
+and others noisily protested against this.
+
+Comings and goings, cries, exclamations, bursts of laughter, jokes,
+a whistle, swelled the tumult. Here the leg of a bench gave way and
+precipitated those on it, to the delight of the spectators; there
+was a dispute for place; and a little beyond a fracas of glasses
+and bottles. It was Andeng, carrying a great tray of drinks, and
+unfortunately she had encountered her fiancé, who was disposed to
+profit by the occasion.
+
+The lieutenant, Don Filipo, was in charge of the spectacle, for
+the gobernadorcillo was playing monte, of which he was a passionate
+devotee. Don Filipo was talking with old Tasio, who was on the point
+of leaving.
+
+"Aren't you going to see the play?"
+
+"No, thank you! My own mind suffices for rambling and dreaming,"
+replied the philosopher, laughing. "But I have a question
+to propose. Have you ever observed the strange nature of our
+people? Pacific, they love warlike spectacles; democratic, they adore
+emperors, kings, and princes; irreligious, they ruin themselves in
+the pomps of the ritual; the nature of our women is gentle, but they
+have deliriums of delight when a princess brandishes a lance. Do you
+know the cause of all this? Well----"
+
+The arrival of Maria Clara and her friends cut short the
+conversation. Don Filipo accompanied them to their places. Then came
+the curate, with his usual retinue.
+
+The evening began with Chananay and Marianito in "Crispino and the
+Gossip." The scene fixed the attention of every one. The act was
+ending when Ibarra entered. His coming excited a murmur, and eyes
+turned from him to the curate. But Crisóstomo observed nothing. He
+gracefully saluted Maria and her friends and sat down. The only one
+who spoke to him was Sinang.
+
+"Have you been watching the fireworks?" she asked.
+
+"No, little friend, I had to accompany the governor-general."
+
+"That was too bad!"
+
+Brother Salvi had risen, gone to Don Filipo, and appeared to be having
+with him a serious discussion. He spoke with heat, the lieutenant
+calmly and quietly.
+
+"I am sorry not to be able to satisfy your reverence, but Señor Ibarra
+is one of the chief contributors to the fête, and has a perfect right
+to be here so long as he creates no disturbance."
+
+"But is it not creating a disturbance to scandalize all good
+Christians?"
+
+"Father," replied Don Filipo, "my slight authority does not permit me
+to interfere in religious matters. Let those who fear Señor Ibarra's
+contact avoid him: he forces himself upon no one; the señor alcalde
+and the captain-general have been in his company all the afternoon;
+it hardly becomes me to give them a lesson."
+
+"If you do not put him out of the place, we shall go."
+
+"I should be very sorry, but I have no authority to remove him."
+
+The curate repented of his threat, but there was now no remedy. He
+motioned to his companions, who rose reluctantly, and all went out,
+not without hostile glances toward Ibarra.
+
+The whisperings and murmurs began again. Several people came up to
+Crisóstomo and said:
+
+"We are with you; pay no attention to them!"
+
+"To whom?" he asked in astonishment.
+
+"Those who have gone out because you are here; they say you are
+excommunicated."
+
+Ibarra, surprised, not knowing what to say, looked about him. Maria's
+face was hidden.
+
+"Is it possible? Are we yet in the middle ages?" he began. But he
+checked himself and said to the girls:
+
+"I must excuse myself; I will be back to go home with you."
+
+"Oh, stay!" said Sinang. "Yeyeng is going to dance!"
+
+"I cannot, little friend."
+
+While Yeyeng was coming forward, two soldiers of the guard approached
+Don Filipo and demanded that the representation be stopped.
+
+"And why?" he asked in surprise.
+
+"Because the alférez and his wife have been fighting; they want
+to sleep."
+
+"Tell the alférez we have the permission of the alcalde of the
+province, and nobody in the pueblo can overrule that, not even the
+gobernadorcillo."
+
+"But we have our orders to stop the performance."
+
+Don Filipo shrugged his shoulders and turned his back. The Comedy
+Company of Tondo was about to give a play, and the audience was
+settling for its enjoyment.
+
+The Filipino is passionately fond of the theatre; he listens in
+silence, never hisses, and applauds with measure. Does not the
+spectacle please him? He chews his buyo and goes out quietly, not
+to trouble those who may like it. He expects in his plays a combat
+every fifteen seconds, and all the rest of the time repartee between
+comic personages, or terrifying metamorphoses. The comedy chosen for
+this fête was "Prince Villardo, or the Nails Drawn from the Cellar
+of Infamy," comedy with sorcery and fireworks.
+
+Prince Villardo presented himself, defying the Moors, who held his
+father prisoner. He threatened to cut off all their heads at a single
+stroke and send them into the moon.
+
+Fortunately for the Moors, as they were preparing for the combat, a
+tumult arose. The music stopped, and the musicians assailed the theatre
+with their instruments, which went flying in all directions. The
+valiant Villardo, unprepared for so many foes, threw down his sword and
+buckler and took to flight, and the Moors, seeing the hasty leave of
+so terrible a Christian, made bold to follow him. Cries, exclamations,
+and imprecations rose on all sides, people ran against one another,
+lights went out, children screamed, and benches were overturned in
+a hurly-burly. Some cried fire, some cried "The tulisanes!"
+
+What had happened? The two guards had driven off the musicians,
+and the lieutenant and some of the cuadrilleros were vainly trying
+to check their flight.
+
+"Take those two men to the tribunal!" cried Don Filipo. "Don't let
+them escape!"
+
+When the crowd had recovered from its fright and taken account of
+what had happened, indignation broke forth.
+
+"That's why they are for!" cried a woman, brandishing her arms; "to
+trouble the pueblo! They are the real tulisanes! Fire the barracks!"
+
+Stones rained on the group of cuadrilleros leading off the guards,
+and the cry to fire the barracks was repeated. Chananay in her costume
+of Leonora in "Il Trovatore" was talking with Ratia, in schoolmaster's
+dress; Yeyeng, wrapped in a shawl, was attended by Prince Villardo,
+while the Moors tried to console the mortified musicians; but already
+the crowd had determined upon action, and Don Filipo was doing his
+best to hold them in check.
+
+"Do nothing rash!" he cried. "To-morrow we will demand satisfaction;
+we shall have justice; I promise you justice!"
+
+"No," replied some; "that's what they did at Calamba: they promised
+justice, and the alcalde didn't do a thing! We will take justice for
+ourselves! To the barracks!"
+
+Don Filipo, looking about for some one to aid him, saw Ibarra.
+
+"For heaven's sake, Señor Ibarra, keep the people here while I go
+for the cuadrilleros!"
+
+"What can I do?" demanded the perplexed young fellow; but Don Filipo
+was already in the distance.
+
+Ibarra, in his turn, looked about for aid, and saw Elias. He ran
+to him, took him by the arm, and, speaking in Spanish, begged him
+to do what he could for order. The helmsman disappeared in the
+crowd. Animated discussions were heard, and rapid questions; then,
+little by little, the mass began to dissolve and to wear a less hostile
+attitude. It was time; the soldiers arrived with bayonets fixed.
+
+As Ibarra was about to enter his house that night a little man in
+mourning, having a great scar on his left cheek, placed himself in
+front of him and bowed humbly.
+
+"What can I do for you?" asked Crisóstomo.
+
+"Señor, my name is José; I am the brother of the man killed this
+morning."
+
+"Ah," said Ibarra, "I assure you I am not insensible to your loss. What
+do you wish of me?"
+
+"Señor, I wish to know how much you are going to pay my brother's
+family."
+
+"Pay!" repeated Crisóstomo, not without annoyance. "We will talk of
+this again; come to me to-morrow."
+
+"But tell me simply what you will give," insisted José.
+
+"I tell you we will talk of it another day, not now," said Ibarra,
+more impatiently.
+
+"Ah! You think because we are poor----"
+
+Ibarra interrupted him.
+
+"Don't try my patience too far," he said, moving on. José looked
+after him with a smile full of hatred.
+
+"It is easy to see he is a grandson of the man who exposed my father
+to the sun," he murmured between his teeth. "The same blood!" Then
+in a changed tone he added: "But if you pay well--friends!"
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXV.
+
+HUSBAND AND WIFE.
+
+
+The fête was over, and the inhabitants of the pueblo now perceived,
+as they did every year, that their purses were empty, that in the
+sweat of their faces they had earned scant pleasure, and paid dear
+for noise and headaches. But what of that? The next year they would
+begin again; the next century it would still be the same, for it had
+been so up to this time, and there is nothing which can make people
+renounce a custom.
+
+The house of Captain Tiago is sad. All the windows are closed; one
+scarcely dares make a sound; and nowhere but in the kitchen do they
+speak aloud. Maria Clara, the soul of the house, is sick in bed. The
+state of her health could be read on all faces, as our actions betray
+the griefs of our hearts.
+
+"What do you think, Isabel, ought I to make a gift to the cross at
+Tunasan, or that at Matahong?" asks the unhappy father. "The cross
+at Tunasan grows, but that at Matahong perspires. Which do you call
+the more miraculous?"
+
+Aunt Isabel reflected, nodded her head, and whispered:
+
+"To grow is more miraculous; we all perspire, but we don't all grow."
+
+"That's so, yes, Isabel; but, after all, for wood to perspire--well,
+then, the best thing is to make offerings to both."
+
+A carriage stopping before the house cut short the
+conversation. Captain Tiago, followed by Aunt Isabel, ran down the
+steps to receive the coming guests. They were the doctor, Don Tiburcio
+de Espadaña, his wife, the Doctora Doña Victorina de Los Reyes de de
+Espadaña, and a young Spaniard of attractive face and fine appearance.
+
+The doctora wore a silk dress bordered with flowers, and a hat with a
+large parrot perched among bows of red and blue ribbons. The dust of
+the journey mingling with the rice powder on her cheeks, exaggerated
+her wrinkles; as when we saw her at Manila, she had given her arm to
+her lame husband.
+
+"I have the pleasure of presenting to you our cousin, Don Alfonso
+Linares de Espadaña," said Doña Victorina, indicating the young man;
+"the adopted son of a relative of Father Dámaso's, and private
+secretary of all the ministers----"
+
+The young man bowed low; Captain Tiago barely escaped kissing his hand.
+
+While the countless trunks, valises, and bags are being cared for and
+Captain Tiago is conducting his guests to their apartments, let us
+make a nearer acquaintance with these people whom we have not seen
+since the opening chapters.
+
+Doña Victorina is a woman of forty-five summers, which, according to
+her arithmetic, are equivalent to thirty-two springs. In her youth she
+had been very pretty, but, enraptured in her own contemplation, she
+had looked with the utmost disdain on her numerous Filipino adorers,
+even scorning the vows of love once murmured in her ears or chanted
+under her balcony by Captain Tiago. Her aspirations bore her toward
+another race.
+
+Her first youth, then her second, then her third, having passed in
+tending nets to catch in the ocean of the world the object of her
+dreams, Doña Victorina must in the end content herself with what fate
+willed her. It was a poor man torn from his native Estramadure, who,
+after wandering six or seven years about the world, a modern Ulysses,
+found at length, in the island of Luzon, hospitality, money, and a
+faded Calypso.
+
+Don Tiburcio was a modest man, without force, who would not willingly
+have injured a fly. He started for the Philippines as under-clerk
+of customs, but after breaking his leg was forced to give up his
+position. For a while he lived at the expense of some compatriots,
+but he found their bread bitter. As he had neither profession nor
+money, his advisers counselled him to go into the provinces and offer
+himself as a physician. At first he refused, but, necessity becoming
+pressing, his friends convinced him of the vanity of his scruples. He
+started out, kept by his conscience from asking more than small fees,
+and was on the road to prosperity when a jealous doctor called him to
+the attention of the College of Physicians at Manila. Nothing would
+have come of it, but the affair reached the ears of the people; loss
+of confidence followed, and then loss of patrons. Misery again stared
+him in the face when he heard of the affliction of Doña Victorina. Don
+Tiburcio saw here a patch of blue sky, and asked to be presented.
+
+They met, and after a half-hour of conversation, reached an
+understanding. Without doubt she would have preferred a Spaniard less
+halting, less bald, without impediment of speech, and with more teeth;
+but such a Spaniard had never asked her hand, and at thirty-two what
+woman is not prudent?
+
+For his part, Don Tiburcio resigned himself when he saw the spectre
+of famine raise its head. Not that he had ever had great ambitions
+or great pretensions; but his heart, virgin till now, had pictured a
+different divinity. He was, however, somewhat of a philosopher. He
+said to himself: "All that was a dream! Is the reality powdered
+and wrinkled, homely and ridiculous? Well, I am bald and lame and
+toothless."
+
+They were married then, and Doña Victorina was enchanted with her
+husband. She had him fitted out with false teeth, attired by the
+best tailors of the city, and ordered carriages and horses for the
+professional visits she intended him again to make.
+
+While thus transforming her husband, she did not forget herself. She
+discarded the silk skirt and jacket of piña for European costume,
+loaded her head with false hair, and her person with such extravagances
+generally as to disturb the peace of a whole idle and tranquil
+neighborhood.
+
+The glamour around the husband first began to dim when he tried to
+approach the subject of the rice powder by remarking that nothing is so
+ugly as the false or so admirable as the natural. Doña Victorina looked
+unpleasantly at his teeth, and he was silent. Indeed, at the end of a
+very short time the doctora had arrived at the complete subjugation of
+her husband, who no longer offered any more resistance than a little
+lap-dog. If he did anything to annoy her, she forbade his going out,
+and in her moments of greatest rage she tore out his false teeth,
+and left him, sometimes for days, horribly disfigured.
+
+When they were well settled in Manila, Rodoreda received orders to
+engrave on a plate of black marble:
+
+
+"Dr. De Espadaña,
+Specialist in All Kinds of Diseases."
+
+
+
+"Do you wish me to be put in prison?" asked Don Tiburcio in terror.
+
+"I wish people to call you doctor and me doctora," said Doña Victorina,
+"but it must be understood that you treat only very rare cases."
+
+The señora signed her own name, Victorina de los Reyes de de
+Espadaña. Neither the engraver of her visiting cards nor her husband
+could make her renounce that second "de."
+
+"If I use only one 'de,' people will think you haven't any,
+imbecile!" she said to Don Tiburcio.
+
+Then the number of gewgaws grew, the layer of rice powder was
+thickened, the ribbons and laces were piled higher, and Doña Victorina
+regarded with more and more disdain her poor compatriots who had not
+had the fortune to marry husbands of so high estate as her own.
+
+All this sublimity, however, did not prevent her being each day
+older and more ridiculous. Every time Captain Tiago was with her, and
+remembered that she had once really inspired him with love, he sent a
+peso to the church for a mass of thanksgiving. But he had much respect
+for Don Tiburcio, because of his title of specialist, and listened
+attentively to the rare sentences the doctor's impediment of speech
+let him pronounce. For this reason and because the doctor did not
+lavish his visits on people at large he had chosen him to treat Maria.
+
+As to young Linares, Doña Victorina, wishing a steward from the
+peninsula, her husband remembered a cousin of his, a law student at
+Madrid, who was considered the most astute of the family. They sent
+for him, and the young man had just arrived.
+
+Father Salvi entered while Don Santiago and his guests were at the
+second breakfast. They talked of Maria Clara, who was sleeping;
+they talked of the journey, and Doña Victorina exclaimed loudly
+at the costumes of the provincials, their houses of nipa, and
+their bamboo bridges. She did not omit to inform the curate of
+her friendly relations with the "Segundo Cabo," with this alcalde,
+with that councillor, all people of distinction, who had for her the
+greatest consideration.
+
+"If you had come two days earlier, Doña Victorina," said Captain
+Tiago, profiting by a slight pause in the lady's brilliant loquacity,
+"you would have found His Excellency the governor general seated in
+this very place."
+
+"What! His Excellency was here? And at your house? Impossible!"
+
+"I repeat that he was seated exactly here. If you had come two days
+ago----"
+
+"Ah! What a pity Clarita did not fall ill sooner!" she cried. "You
+hear, cousin! His Excellency was here! You know, Don Santiago, that
+at Madrid our cousin was the friend of ministers and dukes, and that
+he dined with the Count del Campanario."
+
+"The Duke de la Torre, Victorina," suggested her husband.
+
+"It is the same thing!"
+
+"Shall I find Father Dámaso at his pueblo to-day?" Linares asked
+Brother Salvi.
+
+"Father Dámaso is here, and may be with us at any moment."
+
+"I'm very glad! I have a letter for him, and if a happy chance had
+not brought me here, I should have come expressly to see him."
+
+Meanwhile the "happy chance," that is to say, poor Maria Clara,
+had awakened.
+
+"Come, de Espadaña, come, see Clarita," said Doña Victorina. "It
+is for you he does this," she went on, turning to Captain Tiago;
+"my husband attends only people of quality."
+
+The sick-room was almost in obscurity, the windows closed, for fear
+of draughts; two candles, burning before an image of the Virgin of
+Antipolo, sent out feeble glimmers.
+
+Enveloped in multiple folds of white, the lovely figure of Maria lay
+on her bed of kamagon, behind curtains of jusi and piña. Her abundant
+hair about her face increased its transparent pallor, as did the
+radiance of her great, sad eyes. Beside her were her two friends,
+and Andeng holding a lily branch.
+
+De Espadaña felt her pulse, examined her tongue, asked a question or
+two, and nodded his head.
+
+"Sh--she is s--sick, but she can be c--cured."
+
+Doña Victorina looked proudly at their audience.
+
+"Lichen with m--m--milk, for the m--m--morning, syrup of
+m--m--marshmallow, and two tablets of cynoglossum."
+
+"Take courage, Clarita," said Doña Victorina, approaching the bed,
+"we have come to cure you. I'm going to present to you our cousin."
+
+Linares, absorbed, was gazing at those eloquent eyes, which seemed
+to be searching for some one; he did not hear Doña Victorina.
+
+"Señor Linares," said the curate, drawing him out of his abstraction,
+"here is Father Dámaso."
+
+It was indeed he; but it was not the Father Dámaso of heretofore,
+so vigorous and alert. He walked uncertainly, and he was pale and sad.
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXVI.
+
+PROJECTS.
+
+
+With no word for any one else, Father Dámaso went straight to Maria's
+bed and took her hand.
+
+"Maria," he said with great tenderness, and tears gushed from his eyes,
+"Maria, my child, you must not die!"
+
+Maria Clara looked at him with some astonishment. No one of those who
+knew the Franciscan would have believed him capable of such display
+of feeling.
+
+He could not say another word, but moved aside the draperies and went
+out among the plants of Maria's balcony, crying like a child.
+
+"How he loves his god-daughter!" every one thought.
+
+Father Salvi, motionless and silent, watched him intently.
+
+When the father's grief seemed more controlled, Doña Victorino
+presented young Linares. Father Dámaso, saying nothing, looked him
+over from head to foot, took the letter, read it without appearing
+to comprehend, and asked:
+
+"Well, who are you?"
+
+"Alfonso Linares, the godson of your brother-in-law----" stammered the
+young fellow. Father Dámaso threw back his head and examined him anew,
+his face clearing.
+
+"What! It's the godson of Carlicos!" he cried, clasping him in his
+arms. "I had a letter from him some days ago. And it is you? You were
+not born when I left the country. I did not know you!" And Father
+Dámaso still held in his strong arms the young man, whose face began
+to color, perhaps from embarrassment, perhaps from suffocation. Father
+Dámaso appeared to have completely forgotten his grief.
+
+After the first moments of effusion and questions about Carlicos and
+Pepa, Father Dámaso asked:
+
+"Let's see, what is it Carlicos wishes me to do for you?"
+
+"I think he says something about it in the letter," stammered Linares
+again.
+
+"In the letter? Yes, that's so! He wishes me to find you employment
+and a wife. Ah, the employment is easy enough, but as for the
+wife!--hem!--a wife----"
+
+"Father, that is not so urgent," said Linares, with confusion.
+
+But Father Dámaso was walking back and forth murmuring: "A wife! A
+wife!" His face was no longer sad or joyful, but serious and
+preoccupied. From a distance Father Salvi watched the scene.
+
+"I did not think the thing could cause me so much pain," Father
+Dámaso murmured plaintively; "but of two evils choose the least!" Then
+approaching Linares:
+
+"Come with me, my boy," he said, "we will talk with Don
+Santiago." Linares paled and followed the priest.
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXVII.
+
+SCRUTINY OF CONSCIENCE.
+
+
+Long days followed by weary nights were passed by the pillow of the
+sick girl. After a confession to Father Salvi, Maria Clara had had a
+relapse, and in her delirium she pronounced no name but that of her
+mother, whom she had never known. Her friends, her father, her aunt,
+watched her, and heaped with gifts and with silver for masses the
+altars of miraculous images. At last, slowly and regularly, the fever
+began to abate.
+
+The Doctor de Espadaña was stupefied at the virtues of the syrup of
+marshmallow and the decoction of lichen, prescriptions he had never
+varied. Doña Victorina was so satisfied with her husband that one
+day when he stepped on her train, in a rare state of clemency she
+did not apply to him the usual penal code by pulling out his teeth.
+
+One afternoon, Sinang and Victorina were with Maria; the curate,
+Captain Tiago, and the Espadañas were talking in the dining-room.
+
+"I'm distressed to hear it," the doctor was saying; "and Father Dámaso
+must be greatly disturbed."
+
+"Where did you say he is to be sent?" asked Linares.
+
+"Into the province of Tabayas," replied the curate carelessly.
+
+"Maria Clara will be very sorry too," said Captain Tiago; "she loves
+him like a father."
+
+Father Salvi looked at him from the corner of his eye.
+
+"Father," continued Captain Tiago, "I believe her sickness came from
+nothing but that trouble the day of the fête."
+
+"I am of the same opinion, so you have done well in not permitting
+Señor Ibarra to talk with her; that would only have aggravated her
+condition."
+
+"And it is thanks to us alone," interrupted Doña Victorina, "that
+Clarita is not already in heaven singing praises with the angels."
+
+"Amen!" Captain Tiago felt moved to say.
+
+"I think I know whereof I speak," said the curate, "when I say that
+the confession of Maria Clara brought about the favorable crisis
+that saved her life. I do not deny the power of science, but a pure
+conscience----"
+
+"Pardon," objected Doña Victorina, piqued; "then cure the wife of
+the alférez with a confession!"
+
+"A hurt, señora, is not a malady, to be influenced by the conscience,"
+replied Father Salvi severely; "but a good confession would preserve
+her in future from such blows as she got this morning."
+
+"She deserved them!" said Doña Victorina. "She is an insolent woman. In
+church she did nothing but look at me. I had a mind to ask her what
+there was curious about my face; but who would soil her lips speaking
+to these people of no standing?"
+
+The curate, as if he had not heard this tirade, continued: "To finish
+the cure of your daughter, she should receive the communion to-morrow,
+Don Santiago. I think she does not need to confess, and yet, if she
+will once more, this evening----"
+
+"I don't know," said Doña Victorina, profiting by the pause to
+continue her reflections, "I don't understand how men can marry such
+frights. One easily sees where that woman came from. She is dying of
+envy, that shows in her eyes. What does an alférez get?"
+
+"So prepare Maria for confession," the curate continued, turning to
+Aunt Isabel.
+
+The good aunt left the group and went to her niece's room. Maria Clara
+was still in bed, and pale, very pale; beside her were her two friends.
+
+Sinang was giving her her medicine.
+
+"He has not written to you again?" asked Maria, softly.
+
+"No."
+
+"He gave you no message for me?"
+
+"No; he only said he was going to make every effort to have the
+archbishop raise the ban of excommunication----"
+
+The arrival of Aunt Isabel interrupted the conversation.
+
+"The father says you are to prepare yourself for confession, my child,"
+said she. "Sinang, leave her to examine her conscience. Shall I bring
+you the 'Anchor,' the 'Bouquet,' or the 'Straight Road to Heaven,'
+Maria?"
+
+Maria Clara did not reply.
+
+"Well, we mustn't fatigue you," said the good aunt consolingly;
+"I will read you the examination myself, and you will only have to
+remember your sins."
+
+"Write him to think of me no more," murmured the sick girl in
+Sinang's ear.
+
+"What!"
+
+But Aunt Isabel came back with her book, and Sinang had to go.
+
+The good aunt drew her chair up to the light, settled her glasses on
+the tip of her nose, and opened a little book.
+
+"Give good attention, my child: I will begin with the commandments of
+God; I shall go slowly, so that you may meditate: if you don't hear
+well, you must tell me, and I will repeat; you know I'm never weary
+of working for your good."
+
+In a voice monotonous and nasal, she began to read. Maria Clara
+gazed vaguely into space. The first commandment finished, Aunt Isabel
+observed her listener over her glasses, and appeared satisfied with
+her sad and meditative air. She coughed piously, and after a long
+pause began the second. The good old woman read with unction. The
+terms of the second commandment finished, she again looked at her
+niece, who slowly turned away her head.
+
+"Bah!" said Aunt Isabel within herself, "as to taking His holy name
+in vain, the poor thing has nothing to question: pass on to the third."
+
+And the third commandment sifted and commentated, all the causes of
+sin against it droned out, she again looked toward the bed. This time
+she lifted her glasses and rubbed her eyes; she had seen her niece
+raise her handkerchief, as if to wipe away tears.
+
+"Hm!" said she; "hm! the poor child must have fallen asleep during
+the sermon." And putting back her glasses on the tip of her nose,
+she reflected:
+
+"We shall see if besides not keeping the holy feast days, she has
+not honored her father and her mother." And slowly, in a voice more
+nasal than ever, she read the fourth commandment.
+
+"What a pure soul!" thought the old lady; "she who is so obedient,
+so submissive! I've sinned much more deeply than that, and I've never
+been able to really cry!" And she began the fifth commandment with such
+enthusiasm that she did not hear the stifled sobs of her niece. It
+was only when she stopped after the commentaries on wilful homicide,
+that she perceived the groanings of the sinner. Then in a voice that
+passed description, and a manner she strove to make menacing, she
+finished the commentary, and seeing that Maria had not ceased to weep:
+
+"Cry, my child, cry!" she said, going to her bedside; "the more
+you cry the more quickly will God pardon you. Cry, my child, cry;
+and beat your breast, but not too hard, for you are ill yet, you know."
+
+But as if grief had need of mystery and solitude, Maria Clara,
+finding herself surprised, stopped sobbing little by little and dried
+her eyes. Aunt Isabel returned to her reading, but the plaint of her
+audience having ceased, she lost her enthusiasm; the second table of
+the law made her sleepy, and a yawn broke the nasal monotony.
+
+"No one would have believed it without seeing it," thought the
+good woman; "the child sins like a soldier against the first five
+commandments, and from the sixth to the tenth not so much as a
+peccadillo. That is contrary to the custom of the rest of us. One sees
+queer things in these days!" And she lighted a great candle for the
+Virgin of Antipolo, and two smaller ones for Our Lady of the Rosary
+and Our Lady of the Pillar. The Virgin of Delaroche was excluded from
+this illumination: she was to Aunt Isabel an unknown foreigner.
+
+We may not know what passed during the confession in the evening. It
+was long, and Aunt Isabel, who at a distance was watching over her
+niece, could see that instead of offering his ear to the sick girl,
+the curate had his face turned toward her. He went out, pale, with
+compressed lips. At the sight of his brow, darkened and moist with
+sweat, one would have said it was he who had confessed, and absolution
+had been denied him.
+
+"Maria! Joseph!" said the good aunt, crossing herself, "who can
+comprehend the girls of to-day!"
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXVIII.
+
+THE TWO WOMEN.
+
+
+Doña Victorina was taking a walk through the pueblo, to see of
+what sort were the dwellings and the advancement of the indolent
+Indians. She had put on her most elegant adornments, to impress the
+provincials, and to show what distance separated them from her sacred
+person. Giving her arm to her limping husband, she paraded the streets
+of the pueblo, to the profound amazement of its inhabitants.
+
+"What ugly houses these Indians have!" she began, with a grimace. "One
+must needs be an Indian to live in them! And how ill-bred the people
+are! They pass us without uncovering. Knock off their hats, as the
+curates do, and the lieutenants of the Civil Guard."
+
+"And if they attack me?" stammered the doctor.
+
+"Are you not a man?"
+
+"Yes, but--but--I am lame."
+
+Doña Victorina grew cross. There were no sidewalks in these streets,
+and the dust was soiling the train of her dress. Some young girls who
+passed dropped their eyes, and did not admire at all as they should
+her luxurious attire. Sinang's coachman, who was driving Sinang and
+her cousin in an elegant tres-por-ciento, had the effrontery to cry out
+to her "Tabi!" in so audacious a voice that she moved out of the way.
+
+"What a brute of a coachman!" she protested; "I shall tell his master
+he had better train his servants. Come along, Tiburcio!"
+
+Her husband, fearing a tempest, turned on his heels, and they found
+themselves face to face with the alférez. Greetings were exchanged,
+but Doña Victorina's discontent grew. Not only had the officer said
+nothing complimentary of her costume, but she believed she detected
+mockery in his look.
+
+"You ought not to give your hand to a simple alférez," she said to
+her husband, when the officer had passed. "You don't know how to
+preserve your rank."
+
+"H--here he is the chief."
+
+"What does that mean to us? Do we happen to be Indians?"
+
+"You are right," said Don Tiburcio, not minded to dispute.
+
+They passed the barracks. Doña Consolacion was at the window, as
+usual dressed in flannel, and puffing her puro. As the house was low,
+the two women faced each other. The muse examined Doña Victorina from
+head to foot, protruded her lip, ejected tobacco juice, and turned
+away her head. This affectation of contempt brought the patience of
+the doctora to an end. Leaving her husband without support, she went,
+trembling with rage, powerless to utter a word, and placed herself
+in front of the alféreza's window. Doña Consolacion turned her head
+slowly back, regarded her antagonist with the utmost calm, and spat
+again with the same cool contempt.
+
+"What's the matter with you, doña?" she asked.
+
+"Could you tell me, señora, why you stare at me in this fashion? Are
+you jealous?" Doña Victorina was at last able to say.
+
+"I jealous? And of you?" replied the alféreza calmly. "Yes, I'm
+jealous of your frizzes."
+
+"Come away there!" broke in the doctor; "d--d--don't pay
+at--t--t--tention to these f--f--follies!"
+
+"Let me alone! I have to give a lesson to this brazenface!" replied
+the doctora, joggling her husband, who just missed sprawling in
+the dust.
+
+"Consider to whom you are speaking!" she said haughtily, turning
+back to Doña Consolacion. "Don't think I am a provincial or a woman
+of your class. With us, at Manila, the alférezas are not received;
+they wait at the door."
+
+"Ho! ho! most worshipful señora, the alférezas wait at the door! But
+you receive such paralytics as this gentleman! Ha! ha! ha!"
+
+Had she been less powdered Doña Victorina might have been seen to
+blush. She started to rush on her enemy, but the sentinel stood in
+the way. The street was filling with a curious crowd.
+
+"Know that I demean myself in speaking to you; persons of position
+like me ought not! Will you wash my clothes? I will pay you well. Do
+you suppose I do not know you are a washerwoman?"
+
+Doña Consolacion sat erect. To be called a washerwoman had wounded her.
+
+"And do you think we don't know who you are?" she retorted. "My
+husband has told me! Señora, I, at least----"
+
+But she could not be heard. Doña Victorina, wildly shaking her fists,
+screamed out:
+
+"Come down, you old hussy, come down and let me tear your beautiful
+eyes out!"
+
+Rapidly the medusa disappeared from the window; more rapidly yet
+she came running down the steps, brandishing her husband's terrible
+whip. Don Tiburcio, supplicating both, threw himself between, but he
+could not have prevented the combat, had not the alférez arrived.
+
+"Well, well, señoras!--Don Tiburcio!"
+
+"Give your wife a little more breeding, buy her more beautiful clothes,
+and if you haven't the money, steal it from the people of the pueblo;
+you have soldiers for that!" cried Doña Victorina.
+
+"Señora," said the alférez, furious, "it is fortunate that I remember
+you are a woman; if I didn't, I should trample you down, with all
+your curls and ribbons!"
+
+"Se--señor alférez!"
+
+"Move on, charlatan! It's not you who wear the breeches!"
+
+Armed with words and gestures, with cries, insults, and injuries,
+the two women hurled at each other all there was in them of soil
+and shame. All four talked at once, and in the multitude of words
+numerous verities were paraded in the light. If they did not hear
+all, the crowd of the curious did not fail to be diverted. They were
+looking forward to battle, but, unhappily for these amateurs of sport,
+the curate came by and established peace.
+
+"Señoras! señoras! what a scandal! Señor alférez!"
+
+"What are you doing here, hypocrite, carlist!"
+
+"Don Tiburcio, take away your wife! Señora, restrain your tongue!"
+
+Little by little the dictionary of sounding epithets became
+exhausted. The shameless shrews found nothing left to say to each
+other, and still threatening, the two couples drew slowly apart,
+the curate going from one to the other, lavishing himself on both.
+
+"We shall leave for Manila this very day and present ourselves to
+the captain-general!" said the infuriated Doña Victorina to her
+husband. "You are no man!"
+
+"But--but, wife, the guards, and I am lame."
+
+"You are to challenge him, with swords or pistols, or else--or
+else----" And she looked at his teeth.
+
+"Woman, I've never handled----"
+
+Doña Victorina let him go no farther; with a sublime movement she
+snatched out his teeth, threw them in the dust, and trampled them
+under her feet. The doctor almost crying, the doctora pelting him
+with sarcasms, they arrived at the house of Captain Tiago. Linares,
+who was talking with Maria Clara, was no little disquieted by the
+abrupt arrival of his cousins. Maria, amid the pillows of her fauteuil,
+was not less surprised at the new physiognomy of her doctor.
+
+"Cousin," said Doña Victorina, "you are to go and challenge the
+alférez this instant; if not----"
+
+"Why?" demanded the astonished Linares.
+
+"You are to go and challenge him this instant; if not, I shall say
+here, and to everybody, who you are."
+
+"Doña Victorina!"
+
+The three friends looked at each other.
+
+"The alférez has insulted us. The old sorceress came down with a whip
+to assault us, and this creature did nothing to prevent it! A man!"
+
+"Hear that!" said Sinang regretfully. "There was a fight, and we
+didn't see it!"
+
+"The alférez broke the doctor's teeth!" added Doña Victorina.
+
+Captain Tiago entered, but he wasn't given time to get his breath. In
+few words, with an intermingling of spicy language, Doña Victorina
+narrated what had passed, naturally trying to put herself in a
+good light.
+
+"Linares is going to challenge him, do you hear? Or don't let him
+marry your daughter. If he isn't courageous, he doesn't merit Clarita."
+
+"What! you are going to marry this gentleman?" Sinang asked Maria,
+her laughing eyes filling with tears. "I know you are discreet,
+but I didn't think you inconstant."
+
+Maria Clara, white as alabaster, looked with great, frightened eyes
+from her father to Doña Victorina, from Doña Victorina to Linares. The
+young man reddened; Captain Tiago dropped his head.
+
+"Help me to my room," Maria said to her friends, and steadied by
+their round arms, her head on the shoulder of Victorina, she went out.
+
+That night the husband and wife packed their trunks, and presented
+their account--no trifle--to Captain Tiago. The next morning they
+set out for Manila, leaving to the pacific Linares the rôle of avenger.
+
+
+
+
+
+XXXIX.
+
+THE OUTLAWED.
+
+
+By the feeble moonlight that penetrates the thick foliage of forest
+trees, a man was making his way through the woods. His movement was
+slow but assured. From time to time, as if to get his bearings, he
+whistled an air, to which another whistler in the distance replied
+by repeating it.
+
+At last, after struggling long against the many obstacles a virgin
+forest opposes to the march of man, and most obstinately at night,
+he arrived at a little clearing, bathed in the light of the moon in
+its first quarter. Scarcely had he entered it when another man came
+carefully out from behind a great rock, a revolver in his hand.
+
+"Who are you?" he demanded with authority in Tagalo.
+
+"Is old Pablo with you?" asked the newcomer tranquilly; "if so,
+tell him Elias is searching for him."
+
+"You are Elias?" said the other, with a certain respect, yet keeping
+his revolver cocked. "Follow me!"
+
+They penetrated a cavern, the guide warning the helmsman when to
+lower his head, when to crawl on all fours. After a short passage
+they arrived at a sort of room, dimly lighted by pitch torches, where
+twelve or fifteen men, dirty, ragged, and sinister, were talking
+low among themselves. His elbows resting on a stone, an old man of
+sombre face sat apart, looking toward the smoky torches. It was a
+cavern of tulisanes. When Elias arrived, the men started to rise,
+but at a gesture from the old man they remained quiet, contenting
+themselves with examining the newcomer.
+
+"Is it thou, then?" said the old chief, his sad eyes lighting a little
+at sight of the young man.
+
+"And you are here!" exclaimed Elias, half to himself.
+
+The old man bent his head in silence, making at the same time a sign
+to the men, who rose and went out, not without taking the helmsman's
+measure with their eyes.
+
+"Yes," said the old man to Elias when they were alone, "six months ago
+I gave you hospitality in my home; now it is I who receive compassion
+from you. But sit down and tell me how you found me."
+
+"As soon as I heard of your misfortunes," replied Elias slowly,
+"I set out, and searched from mountain to mountain. I've gone over
+nearly two provinces." After a short pause in which he tried to read
+the old man's thoughts in his sombre face, he went on:
+
+"I have come to make you a proposition. After vainly trying to find
+some representative of the family which caused the ruin of my own,
+I have decided to go North, and live among the savage tribes. Will
+you leave this life you are beginning, and come with me? Let me be
+a son to you?"
+
+The old man shook his head.
+
+"At my age," he said, "when one has taken a desperate resolution it
+is final. When such a man as I, who passed his youth and ripe age
+laboring to assure his future and that of his children, who submitted
+always to the will of superiors, whose conscience is clear--when such
+a man, almost on the border of the tomb, renounces all his past, it is
+because after ripe reflection he concludes that there is no such thing
+as peace. Why go to a strange land to drag out my miserable days? I
+had two sons, a daughter, a home, a fortune. I enjoyed consideration
+and respect; now I am like a tree stripped of its branches, bare and
+desolate. And why? Because a man dishonored my daughter; because my
+sons wished to seek satisfaction from this man, placed above other by
+his office; because this man, fearing them, sought their destruction
+and accomplished it. And I have survived; but if I did not know how
+to defend my sons, I shall know how to avenge them. The day my band is
+strong enough, I shall go down into the plain and wipe out my vengeance
+and my life in fire! Either this day will come or there is no God!"
+
+The old man rose, and, his eyes glittering, his voice cavernous,
+he cried, fastening his hands in his long hair:
+
+"Malediction, malediction upon me, who held the avenging hands of my
+sons! I was their assassin!"
+
+"I understand you," said Elias; "I too have a vengeance to satisfy;
+and yet, from fear of striking the innocent, I choose to forego that."
+
+"You can; you are young; you have not lost your last hope. I too,
+I swear it, would not strike the innocent. You see this wound? I got
+it rather than harm a cuadrillero who was doing his duty."
+
+"And yet," said Elias, "if you carry out your purpose, you will bring
+dreadful woes to our unhappy country. If with your own hands you
+satisfy your vengeance, your enemies will take terrible reprisals--not
+from you, not from those who are armed, but from the people, who are
+always the ones accused. When I knew you in other days, you gave me
+wise counsels: will you permit me----"
+
+The old man crossed his arms and seemed to attend.
+
+"Señor," continued Elias, "I have had the fortune to do a great service
+to a young man, rich, kind of heart, upright, wishing the good of
+his country. It is said he has relations at Madrid; of that I know
+nothing, but I know he is the friend of the governor-general. What
+do you think of interesting him in the cause of the miserable and
+making him their voice?"
+
+The old man shook his head.
+
+"He is rich, you say. The rich think only of increasing their
+riches. Not one of them would compromise his peace to go to the aid
+of those who suffer. I know it, I who was rich myself."
+
+"But he is not like the others. And he is a young man about to
+marry, who wishes the tranquillity of his country for the sake of
+his children's children."
+
+"He is a man, then, who is going to be happy. Our cause is not that
+of fortunate men."
+
+"No, but it is that of men of courage!"
+
+"True," said the old man, seating himself again. "Let us suppose
+he consents to be our mouthpiece. Let us suppose he wins the
+captain-general, and finds at Madrid deputies who can plead for us;
+do you believe we shall have justice?"
+
+"Let us try it before we try measures of blood," said Elias. "It must
+surprise you that I, an outlaw too, and young and strong, propose
+pacific measures. It is because I see the number of miseries which
+we ourselves cause, as well as our tyrants. It is always the unarmed
+who pay the penalty."
+
+"And if nothing result from our steps?"
+
+"If we are not heard, if our grievances are made light of, I shall
+be the first to put myself under your orders."
+
+The old man embraced Elias, a strange light in his eyes.
+
+"I accept the proposition," he said; "I know you will keep your
+word. I will help you to avenge your parents; you shall help me to
+avenge my sons!"
+
+"Meanwhile, señor, you will do nothing violent."
+
+"And you will set forth the wrongs of the people; you know them. When
+shall I have the response?"
+
+"In four days send me a man to the lake shore of San Diego. I will
+tell him the decision, and name the person on whom I count."
+
+"Elias will be chief when Captain Pablo is fallen," said the old
+man. And he himself accompanied the helmsman out of the cave.
+
+
+
+
+
+XL.
+
+THE ENIGMA.
+
+
+The day after the departure of the doctor and the doctora, Ibarra
+returned to the pueblo. He hastened to the house of Captain Tiago to
+tell Maria he had been reconciled to the Church. Aunt Isabel, who was
+fond of the young fellow, and anxious for his marriage with her niece,
+was filled with joy. Captain Tiago was not at home.
+
+"Come in!" Aunt Isabel cried in her bad Castilian. "Maria,
+Crisóstomo has returned to favor with the Church; the archbishop has
+disexcommunicated him!"
+
+But Crisóstomo stood still, the smile froze on his lips, the words
+he was to say to Maria fled from his mind. Leaning against the
+balcony beside her was Linares; on the floor lay leafless roses and
+sampagas. The Spaniard was making garlands with the flowers and
+leaves from the vines; Maria Clara, buried in her fauteuil, pale
+and thoughtful, was playing with an ivory fan, less white than her
+slender hands.
+
+At sight of Ibarra Linares paled, and carmine tinted the cheeks of
+Maria Clara. She tried to rise, but was not strong enough; she lowered
+her eyes and let her fan fall.
+
+For some seconds there was an embarrassing silence; then Ibarra spoke.
+
+"I have this moment arrived, and came straight here. You are better
+than I thought you were."
+
+One would have said Maria had become mute: her eyes still lowered,
+she did not say a word in reply. Ibarra looked searchingly at Linares;
+the timid young man bore the scrutiny with haughtiness.
+
+"I see my arrival was not expected," he went on slowly. "Pardon me,
+Maria, that I did not have myself announced. Some day I can explain
+to you--for we shall still see each other--surely!"
+
+At these last words the girl raised toward her fiancé her beautiful
+eyes full of purity and sadness, so suppliant and so sweet that Ibarra
+stood still in confusion.
+
+"May I come to-morrow?" he asked after a moment.
+
+"You know that to me you are always welcome," she said in a weak voice.
+
+Ibarra left, calm in appearance, but a tempest was in his brain and
+freezing cold in his heart. What he had just seen and comprehended
+seemed to him incomprehensible. Was it doubt, inconstancy, betrayal?
+
+"Oh, woman!" he murmured.
+
+Without knowing where he went, he arrived at the ground where the
+school was going up. Señor Juan hailed him with delight, and showed
+him what had been done since he went away.
+
+With surprise Ibarra saw Elias among the workmen; the helmsman saluted
+him, as did the others, and at the same time made him understand that
+he had something to say to him.
+
+"Señor Juan," said Ibarra, "will you bring me the list of
+workmen?" Señor Juan disappeared, and Ibarra approached Elias, who
+was lifting a great stone and loading it on a cart.
+
+"If you can, señor," said the helmsman, "give me an hour of
+conversation, there is something grave of which I want to talk with
+you. Will you go on the lake early this evening in my boat?"
+
+Ibarra gave a sign of assent and Elias moved away. Señor Juan brought
+the list, but Ibarra searched it in vain for the name of the helmsman.
+
+
+
+
+
+XLI.
+
+THE VOICE OF THE PERSECUTED.
+
+
+The sun was just setting when Ibarra stepped into the little boat on
+the lake shore. He appeared disturbed.
+
+"Pardon me, señor," said Elias, "for having asked this favor; I wished
+to speak to you freely, with no possibility of listeners."
+
+"And what have you to say?"
+
+They had already shot away from the bank. The sun had disappeared
+behind the crest of the mountains, and as twilight is of short
+duration in this latitude, the night was descending rapidly, lighted
+by a brilliant moon.
+
+"Señor," replied Elias, "I am the spokesman of many unfortunates." And
+briefly he told of his conversation with the chief of the tulisanes,
+omitting the old man's doubts and threats.
+
+"And they wish?" asked Ibarra, when he had finished.
+
+"Radical reforms in the guard, the clergy, and the administration
+of justice."
+
+"Elias," said Ibarra, "I know little of you, but I believe you will
+understand me when I say that though I have friends at Madrid whom
+I might influence, and though I might interest the captain-general
+in these people, neither they nor he could bring about such a
+revolution. And more, I would not take a step in this direction,
+because I believe what you want reformed is at present a necessary
+evil."
+
+"You also, señor, believe in necessary evil?" said Elias with a tremor
+in his voice. "You think one must go through evil to arrive at good?"
+
+"No; but I look at evil as a violent remedy we sometimes use to cure
+ourselves of illness."
+
+"It is a bad medicine, señor, that does away with the symptoms without
+searching out the cause of the disease. The Municipal Guard exists
+only to suppress crime by force and terrorizing."
+
+"The institution may be imperfect, but the terror it inspires keeps
+down the number of criminals."
+
+"Rather say that this terror creates new criminals every day,"
+said Elias. "There are those who have become tulisanes for life. A
+first offence punished inhumanly, and the fear of further torture
+separates them forever from society and condemns them to kill or to
+be killed. The terrorism of the Municipal Guard shuts the doors of
+repentance, and as a tulisan, defending himself in the mountains,
+fights to much better advantage than the soldier he mocks, we cannot
+remedy the evil we have made. Terrorism may serve when a people is
+enslaved, and the mountains have no caverns; but when a desperate
+man feels the strength of his arm, and anger possesses him, terrorism
+cannot put out the fire for which it has itself heaped the fuel."
+
+"You would seem to speak reasonably, Elias, if one had not already his
+own convictions. But let me ask you, Who demand these reforms? You
+know I except you, whom I cannot class with these others; but are
+they not all criminals, or men ready to become so?"
+
+"Go from pueblo to pueblo, señor, from house to house, and listen
+to the stifled groanings, and you will find that if you think that,
+you are mistaken."
+
+"But the Government must have a body of unlimited power, to make
+itself respected and its authority felt."
+
+"It is true, señor, when the Government is at war with the country;
+but is it not unfortunate that in times of peace the people should
+be made to feel they are at strife with their rulers? If, however,
+we prefer force to authority, we should at least be careful to whom
+we give unlimited power. Such a force in the hands of men ignorant,
+passionate, without moral training or tried honor, is a weapon
+thrown to a madman in the middle of an unarmed crowd. I grant the
+Government must have an arm, but let it choose this arm well; and
+since it prefers the power it assumes to that the people might give
+it, let it at least show that it knows how to assume it!"
+
+Elias spoke with passion; his eyes were brilliant, his voice was
+resonant. His words were followed by silence; the boat, no longer
+driven forward by the oars, seemed motionless on the surface of the
+lake; the moon shone resplendent in the sapphire sky; above the far
+banks the stars glittered.
+
+"And what else do they ask?"
+
+"Reform of the religious orders,--they demand better protection----"
+
+"Against the religious orders?"
+
+"Against their oppression, señor."
+
+"Do the Philippines forget the debt they owe those men who led them
+out of error into the true faith? It is a pity we are not taught the
+history of our country!"
+
+"We must not forget this debt, no! But were not our nationality
+and independence a dear price with which to cancel it? We have
+also given the priests our best pueblos, our most fertile fields,
+and we still give them our savings, for the purchase of all sorts of
+religious objects. I realize that a pure faith and a veritable love
+of humanity moved the first missionaries who came to our shores. I
+acknowledge the debt we owe those noble men; I know that in those
+days Spain abounded in heroes, of politics as well as religion. But
+because the ancestors were true men, must we consent to the excesses
+of their unworthy descendants? Because a great good has been done us,
+may we not protest against being done a great wrong? The missionaries
+conquered the country, it is true; but do you think it is through
+the monks that Spain will keep the Philippines?"
+
+"Yes, and through them only. It is the opinion of all those who have
+written on the islands."
+
+"Señor," said Elias in dejection, "I thank you for your patience. I
+will take you back to the shore."
+
+"No," said Ibarra, "go on; we should know which is right in so
+important a question."
+
+"You will excuse me, señor," said Elias, "I have not eloquence enough
+to convince you. If I have some education, I am an Indian, and my
+words would always be suspected. Those who have expressed opinions
+contrary to mine are Spaniards, and as such disarm in advance all
+contradiction. Besides, when I see that you, who love your country,
+you, whose father sleeps below this calm water, you who have been
+attacked and wronged yourself, have these opinions, I commence to doubt
+my own convictions, I acknowledge that the people may be mistaken. I
+must tell these unfortunates who have placed their confidence in men
+to put it in God or in their own strength."
+
+"Elias, your words hurt me, and make me, too, have doubts. I have not
+grown up with the people, and cannot know their needs. I only know
+what books have taught me. If I take your words with caution, it is
+because I fear you may be prejudiced by your personal wrongs. If
+I could know something of your story, perhaps it would alter my
+judgment. I am mistrustful of theories, am guided rather by facts."
+
+Elias thought a moment, then he said:
+
+"If this is so, señor, I will briefly tell you my history."
+
+
+
+
+
+XLII.
+
+THE FAMILY OF ELIAS.
+
+
+"It is about sixty years since my grandfather was employed as
+accountant by a Spanish merchant. Although still young, he was married,
+and had a son. One night the warehouse took fire, and was burned
+with the surrounding property. The loss was great, incendiarism was
+suspected, and my grandfather was accused. He had no money to pay
+for his defence, and he was convicted and condemned to be publicly
+flogged in the streets of his pueblo. Attached to a horse, he was
+beaten as he passed each street corner by men, his brothers. The
+curates, you know, advocate nothing but blows for the discipline
+of the Indian. When the unhappy man, marked forever with infamy,
+was liberated, his poor young wife went about seeking work to keep
+alive her disabled husband and their little child. Failing in this,
+she was forced to see them suffer, or to live herself a life of shame."
+
+Ibarra rose to his feet.
+
+"Oh, don't be disturbed! There was no longer honor or dishonor for
+her or hers. When the husband's wounds were healed, they went to hide
+themselves in the mountains, where they lived for a time, shunned
+and feared. But my grandfather, less courageous than his wife, could
+not endure this existence and hung himself. When his body was found,
+by chance, my grandmother was accused for not reporting his death, and
+was in turn condemned to be flogged; but in consideration of her state
+her punishment was deferred. She gave birth to another son, unhappily
+sound and strong; two months later her sentence was carried out. Then
+she took her two children and fled into a neighboring province.
+
+"The elder of the sons remembered that he had once been happy. As soon
+as he was old enough he became a tulisan to avenge his wrongs, and
+the name of Bâlat spread terror in many provinces. The younger son,
+endowed by nature with a gentle disposition, stayed with his mother,
+both living on the fruits of the forest and dressing in the cast-off
+rags of those charitable enough to give. At length the famous Bâlat
+fell into the hands of justice, and paid a dreadful penalty for
+his crimes, to that society which had never done anything to teach
+him better than to commit them. One morning the young brother, who
+had been in the forest gathering fruits, came back to find the dead
+body of his mother in front of their cabin, the horror-stricken eyes
+staring upward; and following them with his own, the unhappy boy saw
+suspended from a limb the bloody head of his brother."
+
+"My God!" cried Ibarra.
+
+"It is perhaps the cry that escaped the lips of my father," said
+Elias coldly. "Like a condemned criminal, he fled across mountains
+and valleys. When he thought himself far enough away to have lost
+his identity, he found work with a rich man of the province of
+Tayabas. His industry and the sweetness of his disposition gained
+him favor. Here he stayed, economized, got a little capital, and as
+he was yet young, thought to be happy. He won the love of a girl of
+the pueblo, but delayed asking for her hand, fearing that his past
+might be uncovered. At length, when love's indiscretion bore fruit,
+to save her reputation he was obliged to risk everything. He asked to
+marry her, his papers were demanded, and the truth was learned. As
+the father was rich, he instituted a prosecution. The unhappy young
+man made no defence, and was sent to the garrison.
+
+"Our mother bore twins, my sister and me. She died while we were
+yet young, and we were told that our father was dead also. As our
+grandfather was rich, we had a happy childhood; we were always
+together, and loved each other as only twins can. I was sent very
+early to the college of the Jesuits, and my sister to La Concordia,
+that we might not be completely separated. In time we returned to
+take possession of our grandfather's property. We had many servants
+and rich fields. We were both happy, and my sister was affianced to
+a man she adored.
+
+"By my haughtiness, perhaps, and for pecuniary reasons, I had won the
+dislike of a distant relative. He threw in my face the obscurity of our
+origin and the dishonor of our race. Believing it calumny, I demanded
+satisfaction; the tomb where so many miseries sleep was opened, and
+the truth came forth to confound me. To crown all, there had been
+with us many years an old servant, who had suffered all my caprices
+without complaint. I do not know how our relative found it out, but he
+brought the old man before the court and made him declare the truth:
+he was our father. Our happiness was ended. I gave up my inheritance,
+my sister lost her fiancé, and with our father we left the pueblo,
+to live where he might. The thought of the unhappiness he had brought
+upon us shortened our father's days, and my sister and I were left
+alone. She could not forget her lover, and little by little I saw
+her droop. One day she disappeared, and I searched everywhere for
+her in vain. Six months afterward, I learned that at the time I lost
+her there had been found on the lake shore of Calamba the body of a
+young woman drowned or assassinated. A knife, they said, was buried
+in her breast. From what they told me of her dress and her beauty,
+I recognized my sister. Since then I have wandered from province to
+province, my reputation and my story following in time. Many things
+are attributed to me, often unjustly, but I continue my way and take
+little account of men. You have my story, and that of one of the
+judgments of our brothers!"
+
+Elias rowed on in a silence which was for some time unbroken.
+
+"I believe you are not wrong when you say that justice should interest
+herself in the education of criminals," said Crisóstomo at length;
+"but it is impossible, it is Utopia; where get the money necessary
+to create so many new offices?"
+
+"Why not use the priests, who vaunt their mission of peace and
+love? Can it be more meritorious to sprinkle a child's head with water
+than to wake, in the darkened conscience of a criminal, that spark
+lighted by God in every soul to guide it in the search for truth? Can
+it be more humane to accompany a condemned man to the gallows than
+to help him in the hard path that leads from vice to virtue? And the
+spies, the executioners, the guards, do not they too cost money?"
+
+"My friend, if I believed all this, what could I do?"
+
+"Alone, nothing; but if the people sustained you?"
+
+"I shall never be the one to lead the people when they try to obtain
+by force what the Government does not think it time to give them. If I
+should see the people armed, I should range myself on the side of the
+Government. I do not recognize my country in a mob. I desire her good;
+that is why I build a school. I seek this good through instruction;
+without light there is no route."
+
+"Without struggle, no liberty; without liberty, no light. You say you
+know your country little. I believe you. You do not see the conflict
+coming, the cloud on the horizon: the struggle begun in the sphere
+of the mind is going to descend to the arena of blood. Listen to the
+voice of God; woe to those who resist it! History shall not be theirs!"
+
+Elias was transfigured. He stood uncovered, his manly face illumined by
+the white light of the moon. He shook his mane of hair and continued:
+
+"Do you not see how everything is waking? The sleep has lasted
+centuries, but some day the lightning will strike, and the bolt,
+instead of bringing ruin, will bring life. Do you not see minds in
+travail with new tendencies, and know that these tendencies, diverse
+now, will some day be guided by God into one way? God has not failed
+other peoples; He will not fail us!"
+
+The words were followed by solemn silence. The boat, drawn on by the
+waves, was nearing the bank. Elias was the first to speak.
+
+"What shall I say to those who sent me?"
+
+"That they must wait. I pity their situation, but progress is slow,
+and there is always much of our own fault in our misfortunes."
+
+Elias said no more. He lowered his eyes and continued to row. When
+the boat touched the shore, he took leave of Ibarra.
+
+"I thank you, señor," he said, "for your kindness to me, and, in your
+own interest, I ask you to forget me from this day."
+
+When Ibarra was gone, Elias guided his boat toward a clump of reeds
+along the shore. His attention seemed absorbed in the thousands of
+diamonds that rose with the oar, and fell back and disappeared in
+the mystery of the gentle azure waves. When he touched land, a man
+came out from among the reeds.
+
+"What shall I say to the captain?" he asked.
+
+"Tell him Elias, if he lives, will keep his word," replied the
+helmsman sadly.
+
+"And when will you join us?"
+
+"When your captain thinks the hour has come."
+
+"That is well; adieu!"
+
+"If I live!" repeated Elias, under his breath.
+
+
+
+
+
+XLIII.
+
+IL BUON DI SI CONOSCE DA MATTINA.
+
+
+While Ibarra and Elias were on the lake, old Tasio, ill in his
+solitary little house, and Don Filipo, who had come to see him, were
+also talking of the country. For several days the old philosopher, or
+fool--as you find him--prostrated by a rapidly increasing feebleness,
+had not left his bed.
+
+"The country," he was saying to Don Filipo, "isn't what it was twenty
+years ago."
+
+"Do you think so?"
+
+"Don't you see it?" asked the old man, sitting up. "Ah! you did not
+know the past. Hear the students of to-day talking. New names are
+spoken under the arches that once heard only those of Saint Thomas,
+Suarez, Amat, and the other idols of my day. In vain the monks cry
+from the chair against the demoralization of the times; in vain the
+convents extend their ramifications to strangle the new ideas. The
+roots of a tree may influence the parasites growing on it, but they
+are powerless against the bird, which, from the branches, mounts
+triumphant toward the sky!"
+
+The old man spoke with animation, and his eye shone.
+
+"And yet the new germ is very feeble," said the lieutenant. "If they
+all set about it, the progress already so dearly paid for may yet
+be choked."
+
+"Choke it? Who? The weak dwarf, man, to choke progress, the powerful
+child of time and energy? When has he done that? He has tried dogma,
+the scaffold, and the stake, but E pur si muove is the device of
+progress. Wills are thwarted, individuals sacrificed. What does
+that mean to progress? She goes her way, and the blood of those who
+fall enriches the soil whence spring her new shoots. The Dominicans
+themselves do not escape this law, and they are beginning to imitate
+the Jesuits, their irreconcilable enemies."
+
+"Do you hold that the Jesuits move with progress?" asked the astonished
+Don Filipo. "Then why are they so attacked in Europe?"
+
+"I reply as did once an ecclesiastic of old," said the philosopher,
+laying his head back on the pillow and putting on his mocking air,
+"that there are three ways of moving with progress: ahead, beside,
+behind; the first guide, the second follow, the third are dragged. The
+Jesuits are of these last. At present, in the Philippines, we are
+about three centuries behind the van of the general movement. The
+Jesuits, who in Europe are the reaction, viewed from here represent
+progress. For instance, the Philippines owe to them the introduction
+of the natural sciences, the soul of the nineteenth century. As for
+ourselves, at this moment we are entering a period of strife: strife
+between the past which grapples to itself the tumbling feudal castle,
+and the future whose song may be heard afar off, bringing us from
+distant lands the tidings of good news."
+
+The old man stopped, but seeing the expression of Don Filipo he smiled
+and went on.
+
+"I can almost divine what you are thinking."
+
+"Can you?"
+
+"You are thinking that I may easily be wrong; to-day I have the fever,
+and I am never infallible. But it is permitted us to dream. Why not
+make the dreams agreeable in the last hours of life? You are right:
+I do dream! Our young men think of nothing but loves and pleasures;
+our men of riper years have no activity but in vice, serve only to
+corrupt youth with their example; youth spends its best years without
+ideal, and childhood wakes to life in rust and darkness. It is well
+to die. Claudite jam rivos, pueri."
+
+"Is it time for your medicine?" asked Don Filipo, seeing the cloud
+on the old man's face.
+
+"The parting have no need of medicine, but those who stay. In a few
+days I shall be gone. The Philippines are in the shadows."
+
+
+
+
+
+XLIV.
+
+LA GALLERA.
+
+
+To keep holy the afternoon of Sunday in Spain, one goes ordinarily to
+the plaza de toros; in the Philippines, to the gallera. Cock-fights,
+introduced in the country about a century ago, are to-day one of the
+vices of the people. The Chinese can more easily deprive themselves
+of opium than the Filipinos of this bloody sport.
+
+The poor, wishing to get money without work, risks here the little
+he has; the rich seeks a distraction at the price of whatever loose
+coin feasts and masses leave him. The education of their cocks costs
+both much pains, often more than that of their sons.
+
+Since the Government permits and almost recommends it, let us take
+our part in the sport, sure of meeting friends.
+
+The gallera of San Diego, like most others, is divided into three
+courts. In the entry is taken the sa pintû, that is, the price of
+admission. Of this price the Government has a share, and its revenues
+from this source are some hundred thousand pesos a year. It is said
+this license fee of vice serves to build schools, open roads, span
+rivers, and establish prizes for the encouragement of industry. Blessed
+be vice when it produces so happy results! In this entry are found
+girls selling buyo, cigars, and cakes. Here gather numerous children,
+brought by their fathers or uncles, whose duty it is to initiate them
+into the ways of life.
+
+In the second court are most of the cocks. Here the contracts are made,
+amid recriminations, oaths, and peals of laughter. One caresses his
+cock, while another counts the scales on the feet of his, and extends
+the wings. See this fellow, rage in his face and heart, carrying by
+the legs his cock, deplumed and dead. The animal which for months has
+been tended night and day, on which such brilliant hopes were built,
+will bring a peseta and make a stew. Sic transit gloria mundi! The
+ruined man goes home to his anxious wife and ragged children. He has
+lost at once his cock and the price of his industry. Here the least
+intelligent discuss the sport; those least given to thought extend the
+wings of cocks, feel their muscles, weigh, and ponder. Some are dressed
+in elegance, followed and surrounded by the partisans of their cocks;
+others, ragged and dirty, the stigma of vice on their blighted faces,
+follow anxiously the movements of the rich; the purse may get empty,
+the passion remains. Here not a face that is not animated; in this the
+Filipino is not indolent, nor apathetic, nor silent; all is movement,
+passion. One would say they were all devoured by a thirst always more
+and more excited by muddy water.
+
+From this court one passes to the pit, a circle with seats terraced to
+the roof, filled during the combats with a mass of men and children;
+scarcely ever does a woman risk herself so far. Here it is that
+destiny distributes smiles and tears, hunger and joyous feasts.
+
+Entering, we recognize at once the gobernadorcillo, Captain Basilio,
+and José, the man with the scar, so cast down by the death of his
+brother. And here comes Captain Tiago, dressed like the sporting man,
+in a canton flannel shirt, woollen trousers, and a jipijapa hat. He
+is followed by two servants with his cocks. A combat is soon arranged
+between one of these and a famous cock of Captain Basilio's. The
+news spreads, and a crowd gathers round, examining, considering,
+forecasting, betting.
+
+While men were searching their pockets for their last cuarto, or in
+lieu of it were engaging their word, promising to sell the carabao,
+the next crop, and so forth, two young fellows, brothers apparently,
+looked on with envious eyes. José watched them by stealth, smiling
+evilly. Then making the pesos sound in his pocket, he passed the
+brothers, looking the other way and crying:
+
+"I pay fifty; fifty against twenty for the lásak!"
+
+The brothers looked at each other discontentedly.
+
+"I told you not to risk all the money," said the elder. "If you had
+listened to me----"
+
+The younger approached José and timidly touched his arm.
+
+"What! It's you?" he cried, turning and feigning surprise. "Does your
+brother accept my proposition?"
+
+"He won't do it. But if you would lend us something, as you say you
+know us----"
+
+José shook his head, shifted his position, and replied:
+
+"Yes, I know you; you are Társilo and Bruno; and I know that your
+valiant father died from the club strokes of these soldiers. I know
+you don't think of vengeance----"
+
+"Don't concern yourself with our history," said the elder brother,
+joining them; "that brings misfortune. If we hadn't a sister, we
+should have been hanged long ago!"
+
+"Hanged! Only cowards are hanged. Besides, the mountain isn't so far."
+
+"A hundred against fifty for the bûlik!" cried some one passing.
+
+"Loan us four pesos--three--two," begged Bruno. José again shook
+his head.
+
+"Sh! the money isn't mine. Don Crisóstomo gave it to me for those who
+are willing to serve him. But I see you are not like your father;
+he was courageous. The man who is not must not expect to divert
+himself." And he moved away.
+
+"See!" said Bruno, "he's talking with Pedro; he's giving him a lot
+of money!" And in truth José was counting silver pieces into the palm
+of Sisa's husband.
+
+Társilo was moody and thoughtful; with his shirt sleeve he wiped the
+sweat from his forehead.
+
+"Brother," said Bruno, "I'm going, if you don't; our father must
+be avenged!"
+
+"Wait," said Társilo, gazing into his eyes--they were both pale--"I'm
+going with you. You are right: our father must be avenged!" But he
+did not move, and again wiped his brow.
+
+"What are you waiting for?" demanded Bruno impatiently.
+
+"Don't you think--our poor sister----"
+
+"Bah! Isn't Don Crisóstomo the chief, and haven't we seen him with
+the governor-general? What risk do we run?"
+
+"And if we die?"
+
+"Did not our poor father die under their clubs?"
+
+"You are right!"
+
+The brothers set out to find José, but hesitation again possessed
+Társilo.
+
+"No; come away! we're going to ruin ourselves!" he cried.
+
+"Go on if you want to. I shall accept!"
+
+"Bruno!"
+
+Unhappily a man came up and asked:
+
+"Are you betting? I'm for the lásak."
+
+"How much?" demanded Bruno.
+
+The man counted his pieces.
+
+"I have two hundred; fifty against forty!"
+
+"No!" said Bruno resolutely.
+
+"Good! Fifty against thirty!"
+
+"Double it if you will."
+
+"A hundred against sixty, then!"
+
+"Agreed! Wait while I go for the money," and turning to his brother
+he said:
+
+"Go away if you want to; I shall stay!"
+
+Társilo reflected. He loved Bruno, and he loved sport.
+
+"I am with you," he said. They found José.
+
+"Uncle," said Társilo, "how much will you give?" "I've told you
+already; if you will promise to find others to help surprise
+the quarters, I'll give you thirty pesos each, and ten to each
+companion. If all goes well, they will each receive a hundred, and
+you double. Don Crisóstomo is rich!"
+
+"Agreed!" cried Bruno; "give us the money!"
+
+"I knew you were like your father! Come this way, so that those who
+killed him cannot hear us," said José. And drawing them into a corner,
+he added as he counted out the money:
+
+"Don Crisóstomo has come and brought the arms. To-morrow night at
+eight o'clock meet me in the cemetery. I will give you the final
+word. Go find your companions." And he left them.
+
+The brothers appeared to have exchanged rôles. Társilo now seemed
+undisturbed; Bruno was pale. They went back to the crowd, which was
+leaving the circle for the raised seats. Little by little the place
+became silent. Only the soltadores were left in the ring holding two
+cocks, with exaggerated care, looking out for wounds. The silence
+became solemn; the spectators became mere caricatures of men; the
+fight was about to begin.
+
+
+
+
+
+XLV.
+
+A CALL.
+
+
+Two days later Brother Salvi presented himself at the house of
+Captain Tiago. The Franciscan was more gaunt and pale than usual;
+but as he went up the steps a strange light shone in his eyes, and
+his lips parted in a strange smile. Captain Tiago kissed his hand,
+and took his hat and cane, smiling beatifically.
+
+"I bring good news," said the curate as he entered the drawing-room;
+"good news for everybody. I have letters from Manila confirming
+the one Señor Ibarra brought me, so that I believe, Don Santiago,
+the obstacle is quite removed."
+
+Maria Clara, seated at the piano, made a movement to rise, but her
+strength failed her and she had to sit down again. Linares grew pale;
+Captain Tiago lowered his eyes.
+
+"The young man seems to me very sympathetic," said the curate. "At
+first I misjudged him. He is impulsive, but when he commits a fault,
+he knows so well how to atone for it that one is forced to forgive
+him. If it were not for Father Dámaso----" And the curate flashed a
+glance at Maria Clara. She was listening with all her being, but did
+not take her eyes off her music, in spite of the pinches that were
+expressing Sinang's joy. Had they been alone they would have danced.
+
+"But Father Dámaso has said," continued the curate, without losing
+sight of Maria Clara, "that as godfather he could not permit; but,
+indeed, I believe if Señor Ibarra will ask his pardon everything will
+arrange itself."
+
+Maria rose, made an excuse, and with Victorina left the room.
+
+"And if Father Dámaso does not pardon him?" asked Don Santiago in a
+low voice.
+
+"Then Maria Clara must decide. But I believe the matter can be
+arranged."
+
+The sound of an arrival was heard, and Ibarra entered. His coming made
+a strange impression. Captain Tiago did not know whether to smile or
+weep. Father Salvi rose and offered his hand so affectionately that
+Crisóstomo could scarcely repress a look of surprise.
+
+"Where have you been all day?" demanded wicked Sinang. "We asked
+each other: 'What can have taken that soul newly rescued from
+perdition?' and each of us had her opinion."
+
+"And am I to know what each opinion was?"
+
+"No, not yet! Tell me where you went, so I can see who made the
+best guess."
+
+"That's a secret too; but I can tell you by yourself if these gentlemen
+will permit."
+
+"Certainly, certainly?" said Father Salvi. Sinang drew Crisóstomo to
+the other end of the great room.
+
+"Tell me, little friend," said he, "is Maria angry with me?"
+
+"I don't know. She says you had best forget her, and then she
+cries. This morning when we were wondering where you were I said to
+tease her: 'Perhaps he has gone a-courting.' But she was quite grave,
+and said: 'It is God's will!'"
+
+"Tell Maria I must see her alone," said Ibarra, troubled.
+
+"It will be difficult, but I'll try to manage it."
+
+"And when shall I know?"
+
+"To-morrow. But you are going without telling me the secret!"
+
+"So I am. Well, I went to the pueblo of Los Baños to see about some
+cocoanut trees!"
+
+"What a secret!" cried Sinang aloud in a tone of a usurer despoiled.
+
+"Take care, I really don't want you to speak of it."
+
+"I've no desire to," said Sinang scornfully. "If it had been really
+of importance I should have told my friends; but cocoanuts, cocoanuts,
+who cares about cocoanuts!" and she ran off to find Maria.
+
+Conversation languished, and Ibarra soon took his leave. Captain Tiago
+was torn between the bitter and the sweet. Linares said nothing. Only
+the curate affected gayety and recounted tales.
+
+
+
+
+
+XLVI.
+
+A CONSPIRACY.
+
+
+The bell was announcing the time of prayer the evening after. At its
+sound every one stopped his work and uncovered. The laborer coming from
+the fields checked his song; the woman in the streets crossed herself;
+the man caressed his cock and said the Angelus, that chance might favor
+him. And yet the curate, to the great scandal of pious old ladies,
+was running through the street toward the house of the alférez. He
+dashed up the steps and knocked impatiently. The alférez opened.
+
+"Ah, father, I was just going to see you; your young buck----"
+
+"I've something very important----" began the breathless curate.
+
+"I can't allow the fences to be broken; if he comes back, I shall
+fire on him."
+
+"Who knows whether to-morrow you will be alive," said the curate,
+going on toward the reception-room.
+
+"What? You think that youngster is going to kill me?"
+
+"Señor alférez, the lives of all of us are in danger!"
+
+"What?"
+
+The curate pointed to the door, which the alférez closed in his
+customary fashion.
+
+"Now, go ahead," he said calmly.
+
+"Did you see how I ran? When I thus forget myself, there is some
+grave reason."
+
+"And this time it is----"
+
+The curate approached him and spoke low.
+
+"Do you--know--of nothing--new?"
+
+The alférez shrugged his shoulders.
+
+"Are you speaking of Elias?"
+
+"No, no! I'm speaking of a great peril!"
+
+"Well, finish then!" cried the exasperated alférez.
+
+The curate lowered his voice mysteriously:
+
+"I have discovered a conspiracy!"
+
+The alférez gave a spring and looked at the curate in stupefaction.
+
+"A terrible conspiracy, well organized, that is to break out to-night!"
+
+The alférez rushed across the room, took down his sabre from the wall,
+and grasped his revolver.
+
+"Whom shall I arrest?" he cried.
+
+"Be calm! There is plenty of time, thanks to the haste with which I
+came. At eight o'clock----"
+
+"They shall be shot, all of them!"
+
+"Listen! It is a secret of the confessional, discovered to me by a
+woman. At eight o'clock they are to surprise the barracks, sack the
+convent, and assassinate all the Spaniards."
+
+The alférez stood dumbfounded.
+
+"Be ready for them; ambush your soldiers; send me four guards for
+the convent! You will earn your promotion to-night! I only ask you
+to make it known that it was I who warned you."
+
+"It shall be known, father; it shall be known, and, perhaps, it will
+bring down a mitre!" replied the alférez, his eyes on the sleeves of
+his uniform.
+
+While this conversation was in progress, Elias was running toward the
+house of Ibarra. He entered and was shown to the laboratory, where
+Crisóstomo was passing the time until the hour of his appointment
+with Maria Clara.
+
+"Ah! It is you, Elias?" he said, without noticing the tremor of the
+helmsman. "See here! I've just made a discovery: this piece of bamboo
+is non-combustible."
+
+"Señor, there is no time to talk of that; take your papers and flee!"
+
+Ibarra looked up amazed, and, seeing the gravity of the helmsman's
+face, let fall the piece of bamboo.
+
+"Leave nothing behind that could compromise you, and may an hour from
+this time find you in a safer place than this!"
+
+"What does all this mean?"
+
+"That there is a conspiracy on foot which will be attributed to you. I
+have this moment been talking with a man hired to take part in it."
+
+"Did he tell you who paid him?"
+
+"He said it was you."
+
+Ibarra stared in stupid amazement.
+
+"Señor, you haven't a moment to lose. The plot is to be carried
+out to-night."
+
+Crisóstomo still gazed at Elias, as if he did not understand.
+
+"I learned of it too late; I don't know the leaders; I can do
+nothing. Save yourself, señor!"
+
+"Where can I go? I am due now at Captain Tiago's," said Ibarra,
+beginning to come out of his trance.
+
+"To another pueblo, to Manila, anywhere! Destroy your papers! Fly,
+and await events!"
+
+"And Maria Clara? No! Better die!"
+
+Elias wrung his hands.
+
+"Prepare for the accusation, at all events. Destroy your papers!"
+
+"Aid me then," said Crisóstomo, in almost helpless bewilderment. "They
+are in these cabinets. My father's letters might compromise me. You
+will know them by the addresses." And he tore open one drawer after
+another. Elias worked to better purpose, choosing here, rejecting
+there. Suddenly he stopped, his pupils dilated; he turned a paper
+over and over in his hand, then in a trembling voice he asked:
+
+"Your family knew Don Pedro Eibarramendia?"
+
+"He was my great-grandfather."
+
+"Your great-grandfather?" repeated Elias, livid.
+
+"Yes," said Ibarra mechanically, and totally unobservant of Elias. "The
+name was too long; we cut it."
+
+"Was he a Basque?" asked Elias slowly.
+
+"Yes; but what ails you?" said Crisóstomo, looking round and recoiling
+before the hard face and clenched fists of Elias.
+
+"Do you know who Don Pedro Eibarramendia was? Don Pedro Eibarramendia
+was the wretch who caused all our misfortune! I have long been
+searching for his descendants; God has delivered you into my
+hands! Look at me! Do you think I have suffered? And you live, and
+you love, and have a fortune and a home; you live, you live!" and,
+beside himself, he ran toward a collection of arms on the wall. But
+no sooner had he reached down two poniards than he dropped them,
+looking blindly at Ibarra, who stood rigid.
+
+"What was I going to do?" he said under his breath, and he fled like
+a madman.
+
+
+
+
+
+XLVII.
+
+THE CATASTROPHE.
+
+
+Captain Tiago, Aunt Isabel, and Linares were dining. Maria Clara
+had said she was not hungry, and was at the piano with Sinang. The
+two girls had arranged this moment for meeting Ibarra away from too
+watchful eyes. The clock struck eight.
+
+"He's coming! Listen!" cried the laughing Sinang.
+
+He entered, white and sad. Maria Clara, in alarm, started toward him,
+but before any one could speak a fusilade sounded in the street; then
+random pistol shots, and cries and clamor. Crisóstomo seemed glued
+to the floor. The diners came running in crying: "The tulisanes! The
+tulisanes!" Aunt Isabel fell on her knees half dead from fright,
+Captain Tiago was weeping. Some one rushed about fastening the
+windows. The tumult continued outside; then little by little there
+fell a dreadful silence. Presently the alférez was heard crying out
+as he ran through the street:
+
+"Father Salvi! Father Salvi!"
+
+"Mercy!" exclaimed Aunt Isabel. "The alférez is asking for confession!"
+
+"The alférez is wounded!" murmured Linares, with an expression of
+the utmost relief.
+
+"The tulisanes have killed the alférez! Maria, Sinang, into your
+chamber! Barricade the door!"
+
+In spite of the protests of Aunt Isabel, Ibarra went out into the
+street. Everything seemed turning round and round him; his ears rang;
+he could scarcely move his limbs. Spots of blood, flashes of light and
+darkness alternated before his eyes. The streets were deserted, but the
+barracks were in confusion, and voices came from the tribunal, that of
+the alférez dominating all the others. Ibarra passed unchallenged, and
+reached his home, where his servants were anxiously watching for him.
+
+"Saddle me the best horse and go to bed," he said to them.
+
+He entered his cabinet and began to pack a valise. He had put in his
+money and jewels and Maria's picture and was gathering up his papers
+when there came three resounding knocks at the house door.
+
+"Open in the name of the King! Open or we force the door!" said an
+imperious voice. Ibarra armed himself and looked toward the window;
+then changed his mind, threw down his revolver, and went to the
+door. Three guards immediately seized him.
+
+"I make you prisoner in the name of the King!" said the sergeant.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You will learn at the tribunal; I am forbidden to talk with you."
+
+"I am at your disposition. It will not be for, I suppose, long."
+
+"If you promise not to try to escape us, we may leave your hands free;
+the alférez grants you that favor."
+
+Crisóstomo took his hat and followed the guards, leaving his servants
+in consternation.
+
+Elias, after leaving the house of Ibarra, ran like a madman, not
+knowing whither. He crossed the fields and reached the wood. He was
+fleeing from men and their habitations; he was fleeing from light;
+the moon made him suffer. He buried himself in the mysterious silence
+of the wood. The birds stirred, wakened from their sleep; owls flew
+from branch to branch, screeching or looking at him with great, round
+eyes. Elias did not see or hear them; he thought he was followed by
+the irate shades of his ancestors. From every branch hung the bleeding
+head of Bâlat. At the foot of every tree he stumbled against the cold
+body of his grandmother; among the shadows swung the skeleton of his
+infamous grandfather; and the skeleton, the body, and the bleeding
+head cried out: "Coward! Coward!"
+
+He ran on. He left the mountain and went down to the lake, moving
+feverishly along the shore; his wandering eyes became fixed upon a
+point on the tranquil surface, and there, surrounded by a silver
+nimbus and rocked by the tide, stood a shade which he seemed to
+recognize. Yes, that was her hair, so long and beautiful; yes, that
+was her breast, gaping from the poniard stroke. And the wretched man,
+kneeling in the sand, stretched out his arms to the cherished vision:
+
+"Thou! Thou, too!" he cried.
+
+His eyes fixed on the apparition, he rose, entered the water and
+descended the gentle slope of the beach. Already he was far from the
+bank; the waves lapped his waist; but he went on fascinated. The water
+reached his breast. Did he know it? Suddenly a volley tore the air;
+the night was so calm that the rifle shots sounded clear and sharp. He
+stopped, listened, came to himself; the shade vanished; the dream
+was gone. He perceived that he was in the lake, level with his eyes
+across the tranquil water he saw the lights in the poor cabins of
+fishermen. Everything came back to him. He made for the shore and
+went rapidly toward the pueblo.
+
+San Diego was deserted; the houses were closed; even the dogs had
+hidden themselves. The glittering light that bathed everything detached
+the shadows boldly, making the solitude still more dreary.
+
+Fearing to encounter the guards, Elias scaled fences and hedges,
+and so, making his way through the gardens, reached the home of
+Ibarra. The servants were around the door lamenting the arrest of their
+master. Elias learned what had happened, and made feint of going away,
+but returned to the back of the house, jumped the wall, climbed into a
+window and made his way to the laboratory. He saw the papers, the arms
+taken down, the bags of money and jewels, Maria's picture, and had a
+vision of Ibarra surprised by the soldiers. He meditated a moment and
+decided to bury the things of value in the garden. He gathered them
+up, went to the window, and saw gleaming in the moonlight the casques
+and bayonets of the guard. His plans were quickly laid. He hid about
+his person the money and jewels, and, after an instant's hesitation,
+the picture of Maria. Then, heaping all the papers in the middle of the
+room, he saturated them with oil from a lamp, threw the lighted candle
+in the midst, and sprang out of the window. It was none too soon:
+the guards were forcing entrance against the protests of the servants.
+
+But dense smoke made its way through the house and tongues of flame
+began to break out. Soldiers and servants together cried fire and
+rushed toward the cabinet, but the flames had reached the chemicals,
+and their explosion drove every one back. The water the servants
+could bring was useless, and the house stood so apart that their cries
+brought no aid. The flames leaped upward amid great spirals of smoke;
+the house, long respected by the elements, was now their prisoner.
+
+
+
+
+
+XLVIII.
+
+GOSSIP.
+
+
+It was not yet dawn. The street in which were the barracks and tribunal
+was still deserted; none of its houses gave a sign of life. Suddenly
+the shutter of a window opened with a bang and a child's head
+appeared, looking in all directions, the little neck stretched to
+its utmost--plas! It was the sound of a smart slap in contact with
+the fresh human skin. The child screwed up his face, shut his eyes,
+and disappeared from the window, which was violently closed again.
+
+But the example had been given: the two bangs of the shutter had
+been heard. Another window opened, this time with precaution, and the
+wrinkled and toothless head of an old woman looked stealthily out. It
+was Sister Putá, the old dame who had caused such a commotion during
+Father Dámaso's sermon. Children and old women are the representatives
+of curiosity in the world; the children want to know, the old women
+to live over again. The old sister stayed longer than the child,
+and gazed into the distance with contracted brows. Timidly a skylight
+opened in the house opposite, giving passage to the head and shoulders
+of sister Rufa. The two old women looked across at each other, smiled,
+exchanged gestures, and signed themselves.
+
+"Since the sack of the pueblo by Bâlat I've not known such a
+night!" said Sister Putá.
+
+"What a firing! They say it was the band of old Pablo."
+
+"Tulisanes? Impossible! I heard it was the cuadrilleros against the
+guards; that's why Don Filipo was arrested."
+
+"They say at least fourteen are dead."
+
+Other windows opened and people were seen exchanging greetings
+and gossip.
+
+By the light of the dawn, which promised a splendid day, soldiers
+could now be seen dimly at the end of the street, like gray silhouettes
+coming and going.
+
+"Do you know what it was?" asked a man, with a villainous face.
+
+"Yes, the cuadrilleros."
+
+"No, señor, a revolt!"
+
+"What revolt? The curate against the alférez?"
+
+"Oh, no; nothing of that kind. It was an uprising of the Chinese."
+
+"The Chinese!" repeated all the listeners, with great disappointment.
+
+"That's why we don't see one!"
+
+"They are all dead!"
+
+"I--I suspected they had something on foot!"
+
+"I saw it, too. Last night----"
+
+"What a pity they are all dead before Christmas!" cried Sister
+Rufa. "We shall not get their presents!"
+
+The streets began to show signs of life. First the dogs, pigs, and
+chickens began to circulate; then some little ragged boys, keeping
+hold of each other's hands, ventured to approach the barracks. Two or
+three old women crept after them, their heads wrapt in handkerchiefs
+knotted under their chins, pretending to tell their beads, so as
+not to be driven back by the soldiers. When it was certain that one
+might come and go without risking a pistol shot, the men commenced
+to stroll out. Affecting indifference and stroking their cocks,
+they finally got as far as the tribunal.
+
+Every quarter hour a new version of the affair was circulated. Ibarra
+with his servants had tried to carry off Maria Clara, and in defending
+her, Captain Tiago had been wounded. The number of dead was no longer
+fourteen, but thirty. At half-past seven the version which received
+most credit was clear and detailed.
+
+"I've just come from the tribunal," said a passer, "where I saw Don
+Filipo and Don Crisóstomo prisoners. Well, Bruno, son of the man who
+was beaten to death, has confessed everything. You know, Captain Tiago
+is to marry his daughter to the young Spaniard. Don Crisóstomo wanted
+revenge, and planned to massacre all the Spaniards. His band attacked
+the convent and the barracks. They say many of them escaped. The
+guards burned Don Crisóstomo's house, and if he hadn't been arrested,
+they would have burned him, too."
+
+"They burned the house?"
+
+"You can still see the smoke from here," said the narrator.
+
+Everybody looked: a column of smoke was rising against the sky. Then
+the comments began, some pitying, some accusing.
+
+"Poor young man!" cried the husband of Sister Putá.
+
+"What!" cried the sister. "You are ready to defend a man that heaven
+has so plainly punished? You'll find yourself arrested too. You uphold
+a falling house!"
+
+The husband was silent; the argument had told.
+
+"Yes," went on the old woman. "After striking down Father Dámaso,
+there was nothing left but to kill Father Salvi!"
+
+"But you can't deny he was a good child."
+
+"Yes, he was good," replied the old woman; "but he went to Europe,
+and those who go to Europe come back heretics, the curates say."
+
+"Oho!" said the husband, taking his advantage. "And the curate, and
+all the curates, and the archbishop, and the pope, aren't they all
+Spaniards? What? And are they heretics?"
+
+Happily for Sister Putá, the conversation was cut short. A servant
+came running, pale and horror-stricken.
+
+"A man hung--in our neighbor's garden!" she gasped.
+
+A man hung! Nobody stirred.
+
+"Let's come and see," said the old man, rising.
+
+"Don't go near him," cried Sister Putá, "'twill bring us misfortune. If
+he's hung, so much the worse for him!"
+
+"Let me see him, woman. You, Juan, go and inform them at the tribunal;
+he may not be dead." And the old man went off, the women, even Sister
+Putá, following at a distance, full of fear, but also of curiosity.
+
+Hanging from the branch of a sandal tree in the garden a human body
+met their gaze. The brave man examined it.
+
+"We must wait for the authorities; he's been dead a long time,"
+he said.
+
+Little by little the women drew near.
+
+"It's the new neighbor," they whispered. "See the scar on his face?"
+
+In half an hour the authorities arrived.
+
+"People are in a great hurry to die!" said the directorcillo, cocking
+his pen behind his ear, and he began his investigation.
+
+Meanwhile a peasant wearing a great salakat on his head and having
+his neck muffled was examining the body and the cord. He noticed
+several evidences that the man was dead before he was hung. The
+curious countryman noticed also that the clothing seemed recently
+torn and was covered with dust.
+
+"What are you looking at?" demanded the directorcillo, who had gathered
+all his evidence.
+
+"I was looking, señor, to see if I knew him," stammered the man, half
+uncovering, in which he managed to lower his salakat even farther
+over his eyes.
+
+"But didn't you hear that it is a certain José? You must be asleep!"
+
+Everybody laughed. The confused countryman stammered something else
+and went away. When he had reached a safe distance, he took off his
+disguise and resumed the stature and gait of Elias.
+
+
+
+
+
+XLIX.
+
+VÆ VICTIS.
+
+
+With threatening air the guards marched back and forth before the door
+of the town hall, menacing with the butt of their rifles intrepid
+small boys, who came and raised themselves on tiptoe to see through
+the gratings.
+
+The court room had not the same appearance as the day of the discussion
+of the fête. The guards and the cuadrilleros spoke low; the alférez
+paced the room, looking angrily at the door from time to time. In
+a corner yawned Doña Consolacion, her steely eyes riveted on the
+door leading into the prison. The arm-chair under the picture of His
+Majesty was empty.
+
+It was almost nine o'clock when the curate arrived.
+
+"Well," said the alférez, "you haven't kept us waiting!"
+
+"I did not wish to be here," said the curate, ignoring the tone of
+the alférez. "I am very nervous."
+
+"I thought it best to wait for you," said the alférez. "We have
+eight here," he went on, pointing toward the door of the prison;
+"the one called Bruno died in the night. Are you ready to examine
+the two unknown prisoners?"
+
+The curate sat down in the arm-chair.
+
+"Let us go on," he said.
+
+"Bring out the two in the cepo!" ordered the alférez in as terrible
+a voice as he could command. Then turning to the curate:
+
+"We skipped two holes."
+
+For the benefit of those not acquainted with the instruments of torture
+of the Philippines, we will say that the cepo, a form of stocks, is
+one of the most innocent; but by skipping enough holes, the position is
+made most trying. It is, however, a torture that can be long endured.
+
+The jailor drew the bolt and opened the door. A sickening odor escaped,
+and a match lighted by one of the guards went out in the vitiated
+air; when it was possible to take in a candle, one could see dimly,
+from the rooms outside, the forms of men crouching or standing. The
+cepo was opened.
+
+A dark figure came out between two soldiers; it was Társilo, the
+brother of Bruno. His torn clothing let his splendid muscles show. The
+other prisoner brought out was weeping and lamenting.
+
+"What is your name?" the alférez demanded of Társilo.
+
+"Társilo Alasigan."
+
+"What did Don Crisóstomo promise you for attacking the convent?"
+
+"I have never had any communication with Don Crisóstomo."
+
+"Don't attempt to deny it: what other reason had you for joining
+the conspiracy?"
+
+"You had killed our father, we wished to avenge him, nothing more. Go
+find two of your guards. They're at the foot of the precipice, where
+we threw them. You may kill me now, you will learn nothing more."
+
+There was silence and general surprise.
+
+"You will name your accomplices," cried the alférez, brandishing
+his cane.
+
+The accused man smiled disdainfully. The alférez talked apart with
+the curate.
+
+"Take him where the bodies are," he ordered.
+
+In a corner of the patio, on an old cart, five bodies were heaped
+under a piece of soiled matting.
+
+"Do you know them?" asked the alférez, lifting the covering. Társilo
+did not reply. He saw the body of Sisa's husband, and that of his
+brother, pierced through with bayonet strokes. His face grew darker,
+and a great sigh escaped him; but he was mute.
+
+"Beat him till he confesses or dies!" cried the exasperated alférez.
+
+They led him back where the other prisoner, with chattering teeth,
+was invoking the saints.
+
+"Do you know this man?" demanded Father Salvi.
+
+"I never saw him before," replied Társilo, looking at the poor wretch
+with faint compassion.
+
+"Fasten him to the bench; gag him!" ordered the alférez, trembling
+with rage. When this was done, a guard began his sad task.
+
+Father Salvi, pale and haggard, rose trembling, and left the
+tribunal. In the street he saw a girl, leaning against the wall,
+rigid, motionless, her eyes far away. The sun shone full down on
+her. She seemed not to breathe but to count, one after another,
+the muffled blows inside. It was Társilo's sister.
+
+The torture continued until the soldier, breathless, let his arm
+fall, and the alférez ordered his victim released. But Társilo still
+refused to speak. Then Doña Consolacion whispered in her husband's ear;
+he nodded.
+
+"To the well with him!" he said.
+
+The Filipinos know what that means. In Tagalo it is called timbaîn. We
+do not know who invented this judiciary process, but it must belong
+to antiquity. Truth coming out of a well is perhaps a sarcastic
+interpretation.
+
+In the middle of the patio of the tribunal was a picturesque well curb
+of uncut stones. It had a rustic crank of bamboo; its water was slimy
+and putrid. All sorts of refuse had been thrown around it and in it.
+
+Toward this Társilo was led. He was very pale, and his lips trembled,
+if he was not praying. The pride he had shown appeared now to be
+crushed out; he seemed resigned to suffer. The poor wretch looked
+enviously at the pile of bodies, and sighed heavily.
+
+"Speak then!" said the directorcillo. "You will be hung anyway. Why
+not die without so much suffering?" But Társilo remained mute.
+
+When the well was reached, they bound his feet. He was to be let
+down head foremost. He was fastened to the curb; the crank turned,
+and his body disappeared. The alférez noted the seconds with his
+watch. At the signal the body was drawn up, too pitiable to describe;
+but Társilo was still mute. Again he was let down, again he refused
+to speak; when he was drawn up the third time, he no longer breathed.
+
+His torturers looked at each other in consternation. The alférez
+ordered the body taken down, and they all examined it for signs of
+life; but there were none.
+
+"See," said a cuadrillero, at last, "he has strangled himself with
+his tongue!"
+
+"Put the body with the others," ordered the alférez nervously. "We
+must examine the other unknown prisoner."
+
+
+
+
+
+L.
+
+ACCURST.
+
+
+The news spread that the prisoners were to be taken to the capital,
+and members of their families ran wildly from convent to barracks, from
+barracks to tribunal, but found no consolation anywhere. The curate
+was said to be ill. The guards dealt roughly with the supplicating
+women, and the gobernadorcillo was more useless than ever. The
+friends of the accused, therefore, had collected near the prison,
+waiting for them to be brought out. Doray, Don Filipo's young wife,
+wandered back and forth, her child in her arms, both crying. The
+Capitana Tinay called on her son Antonio, and brave Capitana Maria
+watched the grating behind which were her twins, her only children.
+
+At two in the afternoon, an uncovered cart drawn by two oxen stopped
+in front of the tribunal. It was surrounded, and there were loud
+threats of breaking it.
+
+"Don't do that!" cried Capitana Maria; "do you wish them to go on
+foot?" In a few moments, twenty soldiers came out and surrounded
+the ox-cart; then the prisoners appeared. The first was Don Filipo,
+who smiled at his wife. Doray responded by bitter sobs, and would
+have rushed to her husband, had not the guards held her back. The
+son of Capitana Tinay was crying like a child, which did not help
+to check the lamentations of his family. The twins were calm and
+grave. Ibarra came last. He walked between two guards, his hand free;
+his eyes sought on all sides for a friendly face.
+
+"He is the guilty one!" cried numerous voices. "He is the guilty one,
+and his hands are unbound!"
+
+"Bind my arms," said Ibarra to his guards.
+
+"We have no orders."
+
+"Bind me!"
+
+The soldiers obeyed.
+
+The alférez appeared on horseback, armed to the teeth, and followed
+by an escort of soldiers. The prisoners' friends saluted them with
+affectionate words; only Ibarra was friendless.
+
+"What has my husband done to you?" sobbed Doray. "See my child;
+you have robbed him of his father!"
+
+Grief began to turn to hate against the man who was said to have
+provoked the uprising.
+
+The alférez gave the order to start.
+
+"Coward!" cried a woman, as the cart moved off. "While the others
+fought, you were in hiding! Coward!"
+
+"Curses on you!" cried an old man, running after. "Cursed be the gold
+heaped up by your family to take away our peace. Accurst! accurst!"
+
+"May you be hung, heretic!" cried a woman, picking up a stone and
+throwing it after him. Her example was promptly followed, and a shower
+of dust and pebbles beat against the unhappy man. Crisóstomo bore
+this injustice without a sign. It was the farewell of his beloved
+country. He bent his head and sat motionless. Perhaps he was thinking
+of a man beaten in the pueblo streets; perhaps of the body of a girl,
+washed up by the waves.
+
+The alférez felt obliged to drive away the crowd, but stones did not
+cease to fall, nor insult to sound. One mother only did not curse
+Ibarra; the Capitana Maria watched her sons go, with compressed lips
+and eyes full of silent tears.
+
+Of all the people in the open windows as he passed, none but the
+indifferent and curious showed Ibarra the least compassion. All his
+friends had deserted him, even Captain Basilio, who had forbidden
+Sinang to weep. When Crisóstomo passed the smoking ruins of his home,
+that home where he was born, and spent his happy childhood and youth,
+the tears, long repressed, gushed from his eyes, and bound as he was,
+he had to experience the bitterness of showing a grief that could
+not rouse the slightest sympathy.
+
+From a hill, an old man, pale and thin, wrapped in a mantle, and
+leaning on a stick, watched the sad procession. At the news of what had
+happened, old Tasio had left his bed, and tried to go to the pueblo,
+but his strength had failed him. He followed the cart with his eyes,
+until it disappeared in the distance. Then, after resting a while in
+thought, he got up painfully, and started toward his home, halting
+for breath at almost every step. The next day some shepherds found
+him dead under the shadow of his solitary house.
+
+
+
+
+
+LI.
+
+PATRIOTISM AND INTEREST.
+
+
+The telegraph had secretly transmitted to Manila the news of the
+uprising, and thirty-six hours later, the newspapers, their accounts
+expanded, corrected, and mutilated by the attorney-general, talked
+about it with much mystery and no little menace. Meanwhile the private
+accounts, coming out of the convents, had gone from mouth to mouth,
+to the great alarm of those who heard them. The fact, distorted in
+countless versions, was accepted as true with more or less readiness,
+according to its fitness to the passions and ideas of the different
+hearers.
+
+Though public tranquillity was not disturbed, the peace of the
+hearthstones became like that of a fish-pond, all on top; underneath
+was commotion. Crosses, gold lace, office, power, honors of all kinds
+began to hover over one part of the population, like butterflies in
+a golden sunshine. For the others a dark cloud rose on the horizon,
+and against this ashy background stood in relief bars, chains, and
+the fateful arms of the gibbet. Destiny presented the event to the
+Manila imagination, like certain Chinese fans: one face painted black,
+the other gilded, and gorgeous with birds and flowers.
+
+There was great agitation in the convents. The provincials ordered
+their carriages, and held secret conferences; then presented themselves
+at the palace, to offer their support to the imperiled government.
+
+"A Te Deum, a Te Deum!" said a monk in one convent. "Through the
+goodness of God, our worth is made manifest in these perilous times!"
+
+"This petty general, this prophet of evil, will gnaw his moustaches
+after this little lesson," said another.
+
+"What would have become of him without the religious orders?"
+
+"The papers almost go to the point of demanding a mitre for Brother
+Salvi."
+
+"And he will get it! He's consumed with desire for it!"
+
+"Do you think so?"
+
+"Why shouldn't he be? In these days mitres are given for the asking."
+
+"If mitres had eyes, and could see on what craniums----"
+
+We spare our readers other comments of this nature. Let us enter the
+home of a private citizen, and as we know few people at Manila, we
+will knock at the door of Captain Tinong, the friendly and hospitable
+gentleman whom we saw inviting Ibarra, with so much insistence,
+to honor his house with a visit.
+
+In his rich and spacious drawing-room, at Tondo, Captain Tinong is
+seated in a great arm-chair, passing his hand despairingly across
+his brow; while his weeping wife, the Capitana Tinchang, reads him
+a sermon, listened to by their two daughters, who are seated in a
+corner, mute with stupefaction.
+
+"Ah, Virgin of Antipolo!" cried the wife. "Ah, Virgin of the Rosary;
+I told you so! I told you so! Ah, Virgin of Carmel! Ah!"
+
+"Why, no! You didn't tell me anything," Captain Tinong finally
+ventured to reply. "On the contrary, you said I did well to keep up the
+friendship with Captain Tiago, and to go to his house, because--because
+he was rich; and you said----"
+
+"What did I say? I didn't say it! I didn't say anything! Ah, if you
+had listened to me!"
+
+"Now you throw the blame back on me!" said the captain bitterly,
+striking the arm of his chair with his fist. "Didn't you say I did
+well to invite him to dinner, because, as he was rich----"
+
+"It is true I said that, because--because it couldn't be helped;
+you had already invited him; and you did nothing but praise him. Don
+Ibarra here, and Don Ibarra there, and Don Ibarra on all sides. But
+I didn't advise you to see him or to speak to him at the dinner. That
+you cannot deny!"
+
+"Did I know, for instance, that he was to be there?"
+
+"You ought to have known it!"
+
+"How, if I wasn't even acquainted with him?"
+
+"You ought to have been acquainted with him!"
+
+"But, Tinchang, if it was the first time I had ever seen him or heard
+him spoken of?"
+
+"You ought to have seen him before, you ought to have heard him
+spoken of; that's what you are a man for! And now, you will be sent
+into exile, our goods will be confiscated----Oh, if I were a man! if
+I were a man!"
+
+"And if you were a man," asked the vexed husband, "what would you do?"
+
+"What? Why, to-day, this very day, I should present myself to the
+captain-general, and offer to fight against the rebels, this very day!"
+
+"But didn't you read what the Diario says? Listen! 'The infamous and
+abortive treason has been repressed with energy, force, and vigor,
+and the rebellious enemies of the country and their accomplices will
+promptly feel all the weight and all the severity of the laws!' You
+see, there is no rebellion!"
+
+"That makes no difference, you should present yourself; many did it
+in 1872, and so nobody harmed them."
+
+"Yes! it was done also by Father Bug----" But his wife's hands were
+over his mouth.
+
+"Say it! Speak that name, so you may be hung to-morrow at
+Bagumbayan! Don't you know it is enough to get you executed without
+so much as a trial? Go on, say it!"
+
+But though Captain Tinong had wished, he couldn't have done it. His
+wife held his mouth with both her hands, squeezing his little head
+against the back of the chair. Perhaps the poor man would have died
+of asphyxia, had not a new person come on the stage.
+
+It was their cousin, Don Primitivo, who knew Amat by heart; a man of
+forty, large and corpulent, and dressed with the utmost care.
+
+"Quid video?" he cried, upon entering; "what is going on?"
+
+"Ah, cousin!" said the wife, weeping, and running to him, "I had
+you sent for, for I don't know what will become of us! What do you
+advise--you who have studied Latin and understand reasoning----"
+
+"But quid quæritis? Nihil est in intellectu quod prius non fuerit in
+sensu." And he sat down sedately. The Latin phrases seemed to have
+a tranquillizing effect; the husband and wife ceased to lament, and
+came nearer, awaiting the counsel of their cousin's lips, as once
+the Greeks awaited the saving phrase of the oracle.
+
+"Why are you mourning? Ubinam gentium sumus?"
+
+"You know the story of the uprising----"
+
+"Well, what of it? Don Crisóstomo owes you?"
+
+"No! but do you know that Tinong invited him to dinner, and that he
+bowed to him on the bridge----in the middle of the day? They will
+say he was a friend of ours!"
+
+"Friend?" cried the Latin, in alarm, rising; "tell me who your friends
+are, and I'll tell you who you are yourself! Malum est negotium et
+est timendum rerum istarum horrendissimum resultatum. Hum!"
+
+So many words in um terrified Captain Tinong. He became frightfully
+pale. His wife joined her hands in supplication.
+
+"Cousin, you speak to us now in Latin, but you know we haven't
+studied philosophy like you. Speak to us in Tagal or Castilian;
+give us your advice."
+
+"It is deplorable that you do not know Latin, my cousin: Latin verities
+are lies in Tagalo. Contra principi negantem fustibus est arguendum,
+is, in Latin, a truth as veritable as Noah's ark. I once put it
+in practice in Tagalo, and it was I who got beaten. It is indeed
+a misfortune that you do not know Latin! In Latin it might all be
+arranged. You have done wrong, very wrong, cousins, to make friends
+with this young man. The just pay the dues of sinners. I feel almost
+like advising you to make your will!" and he moved his head gloomily
+from side to side.
+
+"Saturnino, what ails you?" cried Capitana Tinchang,
+terrified. "Ah! Heaven! he is dead! A doctor! Tinong, Tinongy!"
+
+"He has only fainted, cousin; bring some water." Don Primitivo
+sprinkled his face, and the unfortunate man revived.
+
+"Come, come! don't weep! I've found a remedy. Put him in bed. Come,
+come! courage! I am with you, and all the wisdom of the ancients! Call
+a doctor, and this very day, cousin, go present yourself to the
+captain-general, and take him a present, a gold chain, a ring; say
+it's a Christmas present. Shut the windows and doors, and if any one
+asks for your husband, say he is seriously ill. Meanwhile I'll burn
+all the letters, papers, and books, as Don Crisóstomo did. Scripti
+testes sunt! Go on to the captain's. Leave me to myself. In extremis
+extrema. Give me the power of a Roman dictator, and see whether I
+save the coun--What am I saying--the cousin!"
+
+He commenced to upset the shelves of the library, and tear papers
+and letters. Then he lighted a fire on the kitchen hearth, and
+the auto-da-fé began. "'Revolutions of the Celestial Spheres,' by
+Copernicus. Whew! ite, maledicte, in ignem kalanis!" he cried, throwing
+it to the flames. "Revolution and Copernicus! Crime upon crime! If
+I don't get through soon enough! 'Liberty in the Philippines!' What
+books! Into the fire with them!" The most innocent works did not escape
+the common fate. Cousin Primitivo was right. The just pay for sinners.
+
+Four or five hours later, at a fashionable gathering, the events of
+the day were being discussed. There were present a number of elderly
+married ladies and spinsters, together with the wives and daughters
+of clerks of the administration, all in European costume, fanning and
+yawning. Among the men, who, by their manners, showed their position,
+as did the women, was a man advanced in age, small and one-armed,
+who was treated with distinction, and who kept a reserved distance.
+
+"I could never before suffer the monks and civil guards, because of
+their want of manners," a portly lady was saying, "but now that I
+see of what service they are, I could almost marry one of them. I
+am patriotic."
+
+"I am of the very same mind," said a very prim spinster. "But what
+a pity the former governor isn't with us!"
+
+"He would put an end to the race of filibusterillos!"
+
+"Don't they say there are many islands yet uninhabited?"
+
+"If I were the captain-general----"
+
+"Señoras," said the one-armed man, "the captain-general knows his
+duty. I understand he is greatly irritated, for he had loaded this
+Ibarra with favors."
+
+"Loaded him with favors!" repeated the slim gentlewoman, fanning
+furiously. "What ingrates these Indians are! Is it possible to treat
+them like human beings?"
+
+"Do you know what I've heard?" asked an officer.
+
+"No! What is it? What do they say?"
+
+"People worthy of confidence say that all this noise about building
+a school was a pure pretext; what he meant to make was a fort for
+his own defence when he had been attacked."
+
+"What infamy! Would any one but an Indian be capable of it?"
+
+"But they say this filibustero is the son of a Spaniard," said the
+one-armed man, without looking at anybody.
+
+"There it is again," cried the portly lady; "always these creoles! No
+Indian understands anything about revolution. Train crows, and they'll
+pick your eyes out!"
+
+"Do you know what I've heard?" asked a pretty creole, to turn the
+conversation. "The wife of Captain Tinong--you remember? We danced and
+dined at his house at the fête of Tondo--well, the wife of Captain
+Tinong gave the captain-general, this afternoon, a ring worth a
+thousand pesos. She said it was a Christmas present."
+
+"Christmas doesn't come for a month."
+
+"She must have feared a downpour," said the stout lady.
+
+"And so got under cover," said the slim.
+
+"That is evident," said the one-armed man, thoughtfully. "I fear
+there is something back of this."
+
+"I also," said the portly lady. "The wife of Captain Tinong is very
+parsimonious--she has never sent us presents, though we have been to
+her house. When such a person lets slip a little present of a thousand
+little pesos----"
+
+"But is it certain?" demanded the one-armed man.
+
+"Absolutely! His excellency's aide-de-camp told my cousin, to whom
+he is engaged. I'm tempted to believe it's a ring she wore the day
+of the fête. She's always covered with diamonds."
+
+"That's one way of advertising! Instead of buying a lay-figure or
+renting a shop----"
+
+The one-armed man found a pretext for leaving.
+
+Two hours later, when all the city was asleep, certain inhabitants of
+Tondo received an invitation through the medium of soldiers. Authority
+could not permit people of position and property to sleep in houses
+so ill guarded. In the fortress of Santiago, and in other government
+buildings, their sleep would be more tranquil and refreshing. Among
+these people was the unfortunate Captain Tinong.
+
+
+
+
+
+LII.
+
+MARIA CLARA MARRIES.
+
+
+Captain Tiago was very happy. During these troublous times, no one
+had paid any attention to him. He had not been arrested, he had
+not been subjected to cross-examination, to electrical machines, to
+repeated foot-baths in subterranean habitations, nor to any other of
+these pleasantries, well known to certain people who call themselves
+civilized. His friends, that is to say, those who had been--for he had
+repudiated his Filipino friends as soon as they had become suspects
+in the eyes of the Government--had returned home after several days
+of vacation in the edifices of the State. The captain-general had
+ordered them out of his possessions, to the great displeasure of
+the one-armed man, who would have liked to celebrate the approaching
+Christmas in so numerous a company of the rich.
+
+Captain Tinong returned to his home, ill, pale, another man. The
+excursion had not been for his good. He said nothing, not even to greet
+his family, who laughed and wept over him, mad with joy. The poor man
+no longer left the house, for fear of saluting a filibuster. Cousin
+Primitivo himself, with all the wisdom of the ancients, could not
+draw him out of his mutism.
+
+Stories like that of Captain Tinong's were numerous, and Captain Tiago
+was not ignorant of them. He overflowed with gratitude, without knowing
+exactly to whom he owed these signal favors. Aunt Isabel attributed
+the miracle to the Virgin of Antipolo.
+
+"I too, Isabel," said Captain Tiago, "but the Virgin of Antipolo has
+probably not done it alone; my friends have helped, and my future
+son-in-law, Señor Linares."
+
+It was whispered that Ibarra would be hung; that in spite of lack
+of proofs of his guilt, one thing had been found that confirmed the
+accusation; the experts had declared the school was so designed that
+it might pass for a rampart, faulty enough, to be sure, but what one
+might expect of ignorant Indians.
+
+In the midst of affairs, Doña Victorina, Don Tiburcio, and Linares
+arrived. As usual, Doña Victorina talked for the three men and herself;
+and her speech had undergone a remarkable change. She now claimed
+to have naturalized herself an Andalusian by suppressing d's and
+replacing the sound of s by that of z. No one had been able to get
+the idea out of her head; one would certainly have needed to get her
+frizzes off the outside first. She talked of visits of Linares to the
+captain-general, and made continual insinuations as to advantages a
+relative of position would bring.
+
+"As we say," she concluded, "he who sleeps in a good shade, leans on
+a good staff."
+
+"It's--it's the opposite, wife."
+
+Maria Clara was yet pale, though she had almost recovered from her
+illness. She kissed Doña Victorina, smiling rather sadly.
+
+"You have been saved, thanks to your connections!" said the doctora,
+with a significant look toward Linares.
+
+"God has protected my father," said Maria, in a low voice.
+
+"Yes, Clarita, but the time of miracles is past. We, the Spaniards say,
+trust not in the Virgin, and save yourself by running."
+
+"It's--it's--the contrary, wife!"
+
+"We must talk business," said Doña Victorina, glancing at Maria. Maria
+found a pretext for leaving, and went out, steadying herself by
+the furniture.
+
+What was said in this conference was so sordid and mean, that we prefer
+not to report it. Suffice it to say that when they parted, they were
+all satisfied. Captain Tiago said a little after to Aunt Isabel:
+
+"Have the caterer notified that we give a reception to-morrow. Maria
+must get ready for her marriage at once. When Señor Linares is our
+son-in-law, all the palaces will be open to us; and every one will
+die of envy."
+
+And so, toward eight o'clock the next evening, the house of Captain
+Tiago was once more full. This time, however, he had invited only
+Spaniards, peninsular and Philippine, and Chinese. Yet many of our
+acquaintances were there. Father Sibyla and Father Salvi, among
+numerous Franciscans and Dominicans; the old lieutenant of the
+Municipal Guard, more sombre than ever; the alférez, recounting his
+victory for the thousandth time, looking over the heads of everybody,
+now that he is lieutenant with grade of commandant; Dr. Espadaña,
+who looks upon him with respect and fear, and avoids his glance;
+Doña Victorina, who cannot see him without anger. Linares had not yet
+arrived; as a person of importance, he must arouse expectation. There
+are beings so simple, that an hour's waiting for a man suffices to
+make him great in their eyes.
+
+Maria Clara was the object of interest to all the women, and the
+subject of unveiled comments. She had received these ceremoniously,
+without losing her air of sadness.
+
+"Bah! the proud little thing!" said one.
+
+"Rather pretty," said another, "but he might have chosen some one
+with a more intelligent face."
+
+"But the money, my dear! The good fellow is selling himself."
+
+In another group some one was saying:
+
+"To marry when one's first fiancé is going to be hung!"
+
+"That is what is called prudent; having a substitute at hand."
+
+"Then, when one becomes a widow----"
+
+Possibly some of these remarks reached the ears of Maria Clara. She
+grew paler, her hand trembled, her lips seemed to move.
+
+In the circles of men the talk was loud, and naturally the recent
+events were the subject of conversation. Everybody talked, even
+Don Tiburcio.
+
+"I hear that your reverence is about to leave the pueblo," said the
+new lieutenant, whom his new star had made more amiable.
+
+"I have no more to do there; I am to be placed permanently at
+Manila. And you?" asked Father Salvi.
+
+"I also leave the pueblo," said he, throwing back his shoulders;
+"I am going with a flying column to rid the province of filibusters."
+
+Father Salvi surveyed his old enemy from top to toe, and turned away
+with a disdainful smile.
+
+"Is it known certainly what is to be done with the chief
+filibuster?" asked a clerk.
+
+"You are speaking of Don Crisóstomo Ibarra," replied another. "It is
+very probable that he will be hung, like those of 1872, and it will
+be very just."
+
+"He is to be exiled," said the old lieutenant dryly.
+
+"Exile! Nothing but exile?" cried numerous voices at once. "Then it
+must be for life!"
+
+"If the young man had been more prudent," went on Lieutenant Guevara,
+speaking so that all might hear, "if he had confided less in certain
+persons to whom he wrote, if our attorney-generals did not interpret
+too subtly what they read, it is certain he would have been released."
+
+This declaration of the old lieutenant's, and the tone of his voice,
+produced a great surprise among his auditors. No one knew what to
+say. Father Salvi looked away, perhaps to avoid the dark look the
+lieutenant gave him. Maria Clara dropped some flowers she had in her
+hand, and became a statue. Father Sibyla, who knew when to be silent,
+seemed the only one who knew how to question.
+
+"You speak of letters, Señor Guevara."
+
+"I speak of what I am told by Don Crisóstomo's advocate, who is
+greatly interested in his case, and defended him with zeal. Outside
+of a few ambiguous lines in a letter addressed to a woman before he
+left for Europe, in which the procurator found a project against the
+Government, and which the young man acknowledged as his, there was
+no evidence against him."
+
+"And the declaration made by the tulisan before he died?"
+
+"The defence destroyed that testimony. According to the witness
+himself, none of them had any communication with Ibarra, except
+one named José, who was his enemy, as was proven, and who afterward
+committed suicide, probably from remorse. It was shown that the papers
+found on his body were forgeries, for the writing was like Ibarra's
+seven years ago, but not like his hand of to-day. For this it was
+supposed that the accusing letter served as a model."
+
+"You tell us," said a Franciscan, "that Ibarra addressed this letter
+to a woman. How did it come into the hands of the attorney-general?"
+
+The lieutenant did not reply. He looked a moment at Father Salvi,
+and moved off, twisting the point of his gray beard. The others
+continued to discuss the matter.
+
+"Even women seem to have hated him," said one.
+
+"He burned his house, thinking to save himself, but he counted without
+his hostess!" said another, laughing.
+
+Meanwhile the old soldier approached Maria Clara. She had heard the
+whole conversation, sitting motionless, the flowers lying at her feet.
+
+"You are a prudent young woman," he said in a low voice; "by giving
+over the letter, you assured yourself a peaceful future." And he moved
+on, leaving Maria with blank eyes and a face rigid. Fortunately Aunt
+Isabel passed. Maria had strength to take her by the dress.
+
+"What is the matter?" cried the old lady, terrified at the face of
+her niece. "You are ill, my child. You are ready to faint. What is it?"
+
+"My heart--it's the crowd--so much light--I must rest. Tell my father
+I've gone to rest," and steadying herself by her aunt's arm, she went
+to her room.
+
+"You are cold! Do you want some tea?" asked Aunt Isabel at the door.
+
+Maria shook her head. "Go back, dear aunt, I only need to rest,"
+she said. She locked the door of her little room, and at the end of
+her strength, threw herself down before a statue, sobbing:
+
+"Mother, mother, my mother!"
+
+The moonlight came in through the window, and through the door leading
+to the balcony. The joyous music of the dance, peals of laughter
+and the hum of conversation, made their way to the chamber. Many
+times they knocked at her door--her father, her aunt, Doña Victorina,
+even Linares. Maria did not move or speak; now and then a hoarse sob
+escaped her.
+
+Hours passed. After the feast had come the ball. Maria's candle had
+burned out, and she lay in the moonlight at the foot of the statue. She
+had not moved. Little by little the house became quiet. Aunt Isabel
+came to knock once again at the door.
+
+"She must have gone to bed," the old lady called back to her
+brother. "At her age one sleeps like the dead."
+
+When all was still again, Maria rose slowly, and looked out on the
+terrace with its vines bathed in the white moonlight.
+
+"A peaceful future!--Sleep like the dead!" she said aloud; and she
+went out.
+
+The city was mute; only now and then a carriage could be heard
+crossing the wooden bridge. The girl raised her eyes toward the sky;
+then slowly she took off her rings, the pendants in her ears, the
+comb and jewelled pins in her hair, and put them on the balustrade
+of the terrace; then she looked toward the river.
+
+A little bark, loaded with zacate, drew up to the landing-place
+below the terrace. One of the two men in it climbed the stone steps,
+sprang over the wall, and in a moment was mounting the stairway of
+the terrace. At sight of Maria, he stopped, then approached slowly.
+
+Maria drew back.
+
+"Crisóstomo!" she said, speaking low. She was terrified.
+
+"Yes, I am Crisóstomo," replied the young man gravely. "An enemy, a
+man who has reason to hate me, Elias, has rescued me from the prison
+where my friends put me."
+
+A sad silence followed his words. Maria Clara bent her head. Ibarra
+went on:
+
+"By the dead body of my mother, I pledged myself, whatever my future,
+to try to make you happy. I have risked all that remains to me, to
+come and fulfil that promise. Chance lets me speak to you, Maria;
+we shall never see each other again. You are young now; some day your
+conscience may upbraid you. Before I go away forever, I have come to
+say that I forgive you. Be happy--farewell!" And he began to move away;
+she held him back.
+
+"Crisóstomo!" she said, "God has sent you to save me from
+despair. Listen and judge me!"
+
+Ibarra tried gently to release himself.
+
+"I did not come to call you to account; I came to bring you peace."
+
+"I want none of the peace you bring me. I shall find peace for
+myself. You scorn me and your scorn will make even death bitter."
+
+He saw despair in her poor, young face, and asked what she wished.
+
+"I wish you to believe that I have always loved you."
+
+He smiled bitterly.
+
+"Ah! you doubt me! you doubt your childhood's friend, who has never
+hidden a single thought from you! When you know my history, the sad
+story that was told me in my illness, you will pity me; you will no
+longer wear that smile. Why did they not let me die in the hands of
+my ignorant doctor! You and I should both have been happier!"
+
+She stopped a moment, then went on:
+
+"You force me to this, by your doubts; may my mother forgive me! In
+one of the most painful of my nights of suffering, a man revealed
+to me the name of my real father. If he had not been my father,
+this man said, he might have pardoned the injury you had done him."
+
+Crisóstomo looked at Maria in amazement.
+
+"What was I to do?" she went on. "Ought I to sacrifice to my love
+the memory of my mother, the honor of him who was supposed to be my
+father, and the good name of him who is? And could I have done this
+without bringing dishonor upon you too?"
+
+"But the proof--have you had proof? There must be proof!" said
+Crisóstomo, staggered.
+
+Maria drew from her breast two papers.
+
+"Here are two letters of my mother's," she said, "written in her
+remorse. Take them! Read them! My father left them in the house
+where he lived so many years. This man found them and kept them, and
+only gave them up to me in exchange for your letter, as assurance,
+he said, that I would not marry you without my father's consent. I
+sacrificed my love! Who would not for a mother dead and two fathers
+living? Could I foresee what use they would make of your letter? Could
+I know I was sacrificing you too?"
+
+Ibarra was speechless. Maria went on:
+
+"What remained for me to do? Could I tell you who my father was? Could
+I bid you ask his pardon, when he had so made your father suffer? Could
+I say to my father, who perhaps would have pardoned you--could I say I
+was his daughter? Nothing remained but to suffer, to guard my secret,
+and die suffering! Now, my friend, now that you know the sad story
+of your poor Maria, have you still for her that disdainful smile?"
+
+"Maria, you are a saint!"
+
+"I am blessed, because you believe in me----"
+
+"And yet," said Crisóstomo, remembering, "I heard you were to
+marry----"
+
+"Yes," sobbed the poor child, "my father demands this sacrifice; he
+has loved me, nourished me, and it did not belong to him to do it. I
+shall pay him my debt of gratitude by assuring him peace through this
+new connection, but----"
+
+"But?"
+
+"I shall not forget my vows to you."
+
+"What is your thought?" asked Ibarra, trying to read in her clear eyes.
+
+"The future is obscure. I do not know what I shall do; but I know
+this, that I can love but once, and that I shall not belong to one
+I do not love. And you? What will you do?"
+
+"I am no longer anything but a fugitive--I shall fly, and my flight
+will soon be overtaken, Maria----"
+
+Maria took his head in her hands, kissed his lips again and again,
+then pushed him away with all her strength.
+
+"Fly, fly!" she said. "Adieu!"
+
+Ibarra looked at her with shining eyes, but she made a sign, and he
+went, reeling for an instant like a drunken man. He leaped the wall
+again, and was back in the little bark. Maria Clara, leaning on the
+balustrade, watched till it disappeared in the distance.
+
+
+
+
+
+LIII.
+
+THE CHASE ON THE LAKE.
+
+
+"Listen, señor, to the plan I have made," said Elias, as he pulled
+toward San Gabriel. "I will hide you, for the present, at the house
+of a friend of mine at Mandaluyong. I will bring you there your gold,
+that I hid in the tomb of your great-grandfather. You will leave
+the country----"
+
+"To live among strangers?" interrupted Ibarra.
+
+"To live in peace. You have friends in Spain; you may get amnesty."
+
+Crisóstomo did not reply; he reflected in silence.
+
+They arrived at the Pasig, and the little bark began to go up
+stream. On the bridge was a horseman, hastening his course, and a
+whistle long and shrill was heard.
+
+"Elias," said Ibarra at length, "your misfortunes are due to my
+family, and you have twice saved my life. I owe you both gratitude
+and restitution of property. You advise me to leave the country;
+well, come with me. We will live as brothers."
+
+Elias shook his head.
+
+"It is true that I can never be happy in my country, but I can live and
+die there, perhaps die for my country. That is always something. But
+you can do nothing for her, here and now. Perhaps some day----"
+
+"Unless I, too, should become a tulisan," mused Ibarra.
+
+"Señor, a month ago we sat in this same boat, under the light of this
+same moon. You could not have said such a thing then."
+
+"No, Elias. Man seems to be an animal who varies with circumstances. I
+was blind then, unreasonable, I know not what. Now the bandage has
+been torn from my eyes; the wretchedness and solitude of my prison has
+taught me better. I see the cancer that is eating into our society;
+perhaps, after all, it must be torn out by violence."
+
+They came in sight of the governor-general's palace, and thought they
+saw unusual movement among the guards.
+
+"Your escape must have been discovered," said Elias. "Lie down, señor,
+so I can cover you with the zacate, for the sentinel at the magazine
+may stop us."
+
+As Elias had anticipated, the sentinel challenged him, and asked him
+where he came from.
+
+"From Manila, with zacate for the iodores and curates," said he,
+imitating the accent of the people of Pandakan.
+
+A sergeant came out.
+
+"Sulung," said he to Elias, "I warn you not to take any one into your
+boat. A prisoner has just escaped. If you capture him and bring him
+to me, I will give you a fine reward."
+
+"Good, señor; what is his description?"
+
+"He wears a long coat, and speaks Spanish. Look out for him!"
+
+The bark moved off. Elias turned and saw the sentinel still standing
+by the bank.
+
+"We shall lose a few minutes," he said; "we shall have to go into
+the rio Beata, to make him think I'm from Peña Francia. You shall
+see the rio of which Francisco Baltazar sang."
+
+The pueblo was asleep in the moonlight. Crisóstomo sat up to admire
+the death-like peace of nature. The rio was narrow, and its banks were
+plains strewn with zacate. Elias discharged his cargo, and from the
+grass where they were hidden, drew some of those sacks of palm leaves
+that are called bayones. Then they pushed off again, and soon were
+back on the Pasig. From time to time they talked of indifferent things.
+
+"Santa Ana!" said Ibarra, speaking low; "do you know that
+building?" They were passing the country house of the Jesuits.
+
+"I've spent many happy days there," said Elias. "When I was a child,
+we came here every month. Then I was like other people; had a family,
+a fortune; dreamed, thought I saw a future."
+
+They were silent until they came to Malapad-na-batô. Those who have
+sometimes cut a wake in the Pasig, on one of these magnificent nights
+of the Philippines, when from the limpid azure the moon pours out a
+poetic melancholy, when shadows hide the miseries of men and silence
+puts out their sordid words--those who have done this will know some
+of the thoughts of these two young men.
+
+At Malapad-na-batô, the rifleman was sleepy, and seeing no hope of
+plunder in the little bark, according to the tradition of his corps
+and the habit of this post, he let it pass. The guard at Pasig was
+no more disquieting.
+
+The moonlight was growing pale, and dawn was beginning to tint the east
+with roses, when they arrived at the lake, smooth and placid as a great
+mirror. At a distance they saw a gray mass, advancing little by little.
+
+"It's the falúa," said Elias under his breath. "Lie down, señor,
+and I will cover you with these bags."
+
+The outlines of the government boat grew more and more distinct.
+
+"She's getting between us and the shore," said Elias, uneasily; and
+very gradually he changed the direction of his bark. To his terror
+he saw the falúa make the same change, and heard a voice hailing
+him. He stopped and thought. The shore was yet some distance away;
+they would soon be within range of the ship's guns. He thought he would
+go back to Pasig, his boat could escape the other in that direction;
+but fate was against him. Another boat was coming from Pasig, and in
+it glittered the helmets and bayonets of the Civil Guards.
+
+"We are caught!" he said, and the color left his face. He looked at
+his sturdy arms, and took the only resolution possible; he began to
+row with all his might toward the island of Talim. The sun was coming
+up. The bark shot rapidly over the water; on the falúa, which changed
+its tack, Elias saw men signalling.
+
+"Do you know how to manage a bark?" he demanded of Ibarra.
+
+"Yes. Why?"
+
+"Because we are lost unless I take to the water to throw them off the
+track. They will pursue me. I swim and dive well. That will turn them
+away from you, and you must try to save yourself."
+
+"No, stay, and let us sell our lives dear!"
+
+"It is useless; we have no arms; they would shoot us down like birds."
+
+As he spoke, they heard a hiss in the water, followed by a report.
+
+"You see!" said Elias, laying down his oar. "We will meet, Christmas
+night, at the tomb of your grandfather. Save yourself! God has drawn
+me out of greater perils than this!"
+
+He took off his shirt; a ball picked it out of his hands, and two
+reports followed. Without showing alarm, he grasped the hand Ibarra
+stretched up from the bottom of the boat, then stood upright and
+leaped into the water, pushing off the little craft with his foot.
+
+Outcries were heard from the falúa. Promptly, and at some distance,
+appeared the head of the young man, returning to the surface to
+breathe, then disappearing immediately.
+
+"There, there he is," cried several voices, and balls whistled.
+
+The falúa and the bark from Pasig set out in pursuit of the swimmer. A
+slight wake showed his direction, more and more removed from Ibarra's
+little bark, which drifted as if abandoned. Every time Elias raised
+his head to breathe, the guards and the men of the falúa fired on him.
+
+The chase went on. The little bark with Ibarra was left far
+behind. Elias was not more than a hundred yards from the shore. The
+rowers were getting tired, but so was Elias, for he repeatedly
+raised his head above the water, but always in a new direction, to
+disconcert his pursuers. The deceiving wake no longer told the place
+of the swimmer. For the last time they saw him, sixty feet from the
+shore. The soldiers fired--minutes and minutes passed. Nothing again
+disturbed the tranquil surface of the lake.
+
+A half hour later, one of the rowers claimed to have seen traces of
+blood near the shore, but his comrades shook their heads in doubt.
+
+
+
+
+
+LIV.
+
+FATHER DÁMASO EXPLAINS HIMSELF.
+
+
+In vain the precious wedding presents heaped up; not the brilliants
+in their velvet cases, not embroideries of piña nor pieces of silk,
+drew the eyes of Maria Clara. She saw nothing but the journal in
+which was told the death of Ibarra, drowned in the lake.
+
+Suddenly she felt two hands over her eyes, clasping her head, while
+a merry voice said to her:
+
+"Who is it? Who is it?"
+
+Maria sprang up in fright.
+
+"Little goose! Did I scare you, eh? You weren't expecting me, eh? Why,
+I've come from the province to be at your marriage----" And with a
+satisfied smile, Father Dámaso gave her his hand to kiss. She took it,
+trembling, and carried it respectfully to her lips.
+
+"What is it, Maria?" demanded the Franciscan, troubled, and losing
+his gay smile. "Your hand is cold, you are pale--are you ill, little
+girl?" And he drew her tenderly to him, took both her hands and
+questioned her with his eyes.
+
+"Won't you confide in your godfather?" he asked in a tone of
+reproach. "Come, sit down here and tell me your griefs, as you
+used to do when you were little, and wanted some tapers to make
+wax dolls. You know I've always loved you--never scolded you----"
+and his voice became very tender. Maria began to cry.
+
+"Why do you cry, my child? Have you quarrelled with Linares?"
+
+Maria put her hands over her eyes.
+
+"No; it's not about him--now!"
+
+Father Dámaso looked startled. "And you won't tell me your
+secrets? Have I not always tried to satisfy your slightest wish?"
+
+Maria raised to him her eyes full of tears, looked at him a moment,
+then sobbed afresh.
+
+"My child!"
+
+Maria came slowly to him, fell on her knees at his feet, and raising
+her face wet with tears, asked in a voice scarcely audible:
+
+"Do you still love me?"
+
+"Child!"
+
+"Then--protect my father and make him break off my marriage." And
+she told him of her last interview with Ibarra, omitting everything
+about the secret of her birth.
+
+Father Dámaso could scarcely believe what he heard. She was talking
+calmly now, without tears.
+
+"So long as he lived," she went on, "I could struggle, I could hope,
+I had confidence; I wished to live to hear about him; but now--that
+they have killed him, I have no longer any reason to live and suffer."
+
+"And--Linares----"
+
+"If he had lived, I might have married--for my father's sake; but
+now that he is dead, I want the convent--or the grave."
+
+"You loved him so?" stammered Father Dámaso. Maria did not reply. The
+father bent his head on his breast.
+
+"My child," he said at last in a broken voice, "forgive me for
+having made you unhappy; I did not know I was doing it! I thought
+of your future. How could I let you marry a man of this country, to
+see you, later on, an unhappy wife and mother? I set myself with all
+my strength to get this love out of your mind, I used all means--for
+you, only for you. If you had been his wife, you would have wept for
+the unfortunate position of your husband, exposed to all sorts of
+dangers, and without defence; a mother, you would have wept for your
+children; had you educated them, you would have prepared them a sad
+future; they would have become enemies of religion; the gallows or
+exile would have been their portion; had you left them in ignorance,
+you would have seen them tyrannized over and degraded. I could not
+consent to this. That is why I found for you a husband whose children
+should command, not obey; punish, not suffer--I knew your childhood's
+friend was good, and I liked him, as I did his father; but I hated
+them both for your sake, because I love you as one loves a daughter,
+because I idolize you--I have no other love; I have seen you grow up,
+there isn't an hour in which I do not think of you, you are my one
+joy----" And Father Dámaso began to cry like a child.
+
+"Then if you love me, do not make me forever miserable; he is dead,
+I wish to be a nun."
+
+The old man rested his forehead in his hand.
+
+"A nun, a nun!" he repeated. "You do not know, my child, all that
+is hidden behind the walls of a convent, you do not know! I would
+a thousand times rather see you unhappy in the world than in the
+cloister. Here your complaints can be heard; there you have only the
+walls! You are beautiful, very beautiful; you were not made to renounce
+the world. Believe me, my child, time alters all things; later you
+will forget, you will love, you will love your husband--Linares."
+
+"Either the convent or--death," repeated Maria, with no sign of
+yielding.
+
+"Maria," said the father, "I am not young. I cannot watch over you
+always; choose something else, find another love, another husband,
+anything, what you will!"
+
+"I choose the convent."
+
+"My God, my God!" cried the priest, burying his face in his hands. "You
+punish me, be it so! But watch over my daughter!--Maria, you shall
+be a nun. I cannot have you die."
+
+Maria took his hands, pressed them, kissed them as she knelt.
+
+"Godfather, my godfather," she said.
+
+"Oh, God!" cried the heart of the father, "thou dost exist, because
+thou dost chastise! Take vengeance upon me, but do not strike the
+innocent; save my daughter!"
+
+
+
+
+
+LV.
+
+THE NOCHEBUENA.
+
+
+Up on the side of the mountain, where a torrent springs, a cabin hides
+under the trees, built on their gnarled trunks. Over its thatched roof
+creep the branches of the gourd, heavy with fruit and flowers. Antlers
+and wild boars' heads, some of them bearing their long tusks, ornament
+the rustic hearth. It is the home of a Tagalo family living from the
+chase and the cup of the woods.
+
+Under the shade of a tree, the grandfather is making brooms from the
+veins of palm leaves, while a girl fills a basket with eggs, lemons,
+and vegetables. Two children, a boy and a girl, are playing beside
+another boy, pale and serious, with great, deep eyes. We know him. It
+is Sisa's son, Basilio.
+
+"When your foot is well," said the little boy, "you will go with us
+to the top of the mountain and drink deer's blood and lemon juice;
+then you'll grow fat; then I'll show you how to jump from one rock
+to another, over the torrent."
+
+Basilio smiled sadly, examined the wound in his foot, and looked at
+the sun, which was shining splendidly.
+
+"Sell these brooms, Lucia," said the grandfather to the young girl,
+"and buy something for your brothers. To-day is Christmas."
+
+"Fire-crackers, I want fire-crackers!" cried the little boy.
+
+"And what do you want?" the grandfather asked Basilio. The boy got
+up and went to the old man.
+
+"Señor," he said, "have I been ill more than a month?"
+
+"Since we found you, faint and covered with wounds, two moons have
+passed. We thought you were going to die----"
+
+"May God reward you; we are very poor," said Basilio; "but as to-day
+is Christmas, I want to go to the pueblo to see my mother and my
+little brother. They must have been looking everywhere for me."
+
+"But, son, you aren't well yet, and it is far to your pueblo. You
+would not get there till midnight. My sons will want to see you when
+they come from the forest."
+
+"You have many children, but my mother has only us two; perhaps she
+thinks me dead already. I want to give her a present to-night--a son!"
+
+The grandfather felt his eyes grow dim.
+
+"You are as sensible as an old man! Go, find your mother, give her
+her present! Go, my son. God and the Lord Jesus go with you!"
+
+"What, you're not going to stay and see my fire-crackers?" said the
+little boy.
+
+"I want you to play hide and seek!" pouted the little girl; "nothing
+else is so much fun."
+
+Basilio smiled and his eyes filled with tears.
+
+"I shall come back soon," he said, "and bring my little brother;
+then you can play with him. But I must go away now with Lucia."
+
+"Don't forget us!" said the old man, "and come back when you are
+well." The children all accompanied him to the bridge of bamboo over
+the rushing torrent. Lucia, who was going to the first pueblo with
+her basket, made him lean on her arm; the other children watched them
+both out of sight.
+
+
+
+The north wind was blowing, and the dwellers in San Diego were
+trembling with cold. It was the Nochebuena, and yet the pueblo was
+sad. Not a paper lantern hung in the windows, no noise in the houses
+announcing the joyful time, as in other years.
+
+At the home of Captain Basilio, the master of the house is talking
+with Don Filipo; the troubles of these times have made them friends.
+
+"You are in rare luck, to be released at just this moment," Captain
+Basilio was saying to his guest. "They've burned your books, that's
+true; but others have fared worse."
+
+A woman came up to the window and looked in. Her eyes were brilliant,
+her face haggard, her hair loose; the moon made her uncanny.
+
+"Sisa?" asked Don Filipo, in surprise. "I thought she was with
+a physician."
+
+Captain Basilio smiled bitterly.
+
+"The doctor feared he might be taken for a friend of Don Crisóstomo's,
+so he drove her out!"
+
+"What else has happened since I went away? I know we have a new curate
+and a new alférez----"
+
+"Well, the head sacristan was found dead, hung in the garret of his
+house. And old Tasio is dead. They buried him in the Chinese cemetery."
+
+"Poor Don Astasio!" sighed Don Filipo. "And his books?"
+
+"The devout thought it would be pleasing to God if they should
+burn them; nothing escaped, not even the works of Cicero. The
+gobernadorcillo was no check whatsoever."
+
+They were both silent. At that moment, the melancholy song of Sisa
+was heard. A child passed, limping, and running toward the place from
+which the song came; it was Basilio. The little fellow had found
+his home deserted and in ruins. He had been told about his mother;
+of Crispin he had not heard a word. He had dried his tears, smothered
+his grief, and without resting, started out to find Sisa.
+
+She had come to the house of the new alférez. As usual, a sentinel
+was pacing up and down. When she saw the soldier, she took to flight,
+and ran as only a wild thing can. Basilio saw her, and fearing to
+lose sight of her, forgot his wounded foot, and followed in hot
+pursuit. Dogs barked, geese cackled, windows opened here and there,
+to give passage to the heads of the curious; others banged to, from
+fear of a new night of trouble. At this rate, the runners were soon
+outside the pueblo, and Sisa began to moderate her speed. There was
+a long distance between her and her pursuer.
+
+"Mother!" he cried, when he could distinguish her.
+
+No sooner did Sisa hear the voice than she again began to run madly.
+
+"Mother, it's I," cried the child in despair. Sisa paid no
+attention. The poor little fellow followed breathless. They were now
+on the border of the wood.
+
+Bushes, thorny twigs, and the roots of trees hindered their
+progress. The child followed the vision of his mother, made clear now
+and then by the moon's rays across the heavy foliage. They were in the
+mysterious wood of the family of Ibarra. Basilio often stumbled and
+fell, but he got up again, without feeling his hurts, or remembering
+his lameness. All his life was concentrated in his eyes, which never
+lost the beloved figure from view.
+
+They crossed the brook, which was singing gently, and to his great
+surprise, Basilio saw his mother press through the thicket and
+enter the wooden door that closed the tomb of the old Spaniard. He
+tried to follow her, but the door was fast. Sisa was defending the
+entrance--holding the door closed with all her strength.
+
+"Mother, it's I, it's I, Basilio, your son!" cried the child, falling
+from fatigue. But Sisa would not budge. Her feet braced against the
+ground, she offered an energetic resistance. Basilio examined the wall,
+but could not scale it. Then he made the tour of the grave. He saw a
+branch of the great tree, crossed by a branch of another. He began
+to climb, and his filial love did miracles. He went from branch to
+branch, and came over the tomb at last.
+
+The noise he made in the branches startled Sisa. She turned and
+would have fled, but her son, letting himself drop from the tree,
+seized her in his arms and covered her with kisses; then, worn out,
+he fainted away.
+
+Sisa saw his forehead bathed in blood. She bent over him, and her
+eyes, almost out of their sockets, were fixed on his face, which
+stirred the sleeping cells of her brain. Then something like a spark
+flashed through them. Sisa recognized her son, and with a cry fell
+on his senseless body, pressing it to her heart, kissing him and
+weeping. Then mother and son were both motionless.
+
+When Basilio came to himself, he found his mother without
+consciousness. He called her, lavished tender names on her, and seeing
+she did not wake, ran for water and sprinkled her pale face. But the
+eyes remained closed. In terror, Basilio put his ear to her heart,
+but her heart no longer beat. The poor child embraced the dead body
+of his mother, weeping bitterly.
+
+On this night of joy for so many children, who, by the warm hearth,
+celebrate the feast which recalls the first loving look Heaven gave
+to earth; on this night when all good Christian families eat, laugh,
+and dance, 'mid love and kisses; on this night which, for the children
+of cold countries, is magical with its Christmas trees, Basilio sits
+in solitude and grief. Who knows? Perhaps around the hearth of the
+silent Father Salvi are children playing; perhaps they are singing:
+
+
+    "Christmas comes,
+    And Christmas goes."
+
+
+The child was sobbing. When he raised his head, a man was looking
+silently down at him.
+
+"You are her son?" he asked.
+
+Basilio nodded his head.
+
+"What are you going to do?"
+
+"Bury her."
+
+"In the cemetery?"
+
+"I have no money--if you would help me----"
+
+"I am too weak," said the man, sinking gradually to the ground. "I am
+wounded. For two days I have not eaten or slept. Has no one been here
+to-night?" And the man sat still, watching the child's attractive face.
+
+"Listen," said he, in a voice growing feebler, "I too shall be dead
+before morning. Twenty paces from here, beyond the spring, is a pile
+of wood; put our two bodies on it, and light the fire."
+
+Basilio listened.
+
+"Then, if nobody comes, you are to dig here; you will find a lot of
+gold, and it will be all yours. Study!"
+
+The voice of the unknown man sank lower and lower. Then he turned
+his head toward the east, and said softly, as though praying:
+
+"I die without seeing the light of dawn on my country. You who shall
+see it and greet it, do not forget those who fell in the night!"
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The Archbishop and the Lady
+
+By Mrs. Schuyler Crowninshield
+
+A story of modern society which only a writer of very wide and very
+exceptional social experience could have written. It is cosmopolitan,
+yet full of romance; modern, yet informed with a delicate old-world
+charm. The characters are put before us with a consummate knowledge
+of the world and a penetrating insight into human nature.
+
+Cloth. 12mo; 5-1/8 × 7-3/4. About $1.50.
+
+
+
+April's Sowing
+
+By GERTRUDE HALL
+
+Miss Gertrude Hall is known to the world as a poet and as a teller
+of tales, but with her first novel she reveals new gifts, for it is
+a modern story tuned to a note of light comedy that she has never
+struck before. "April's Sowing" is that most widely appreciated thing
+in letters, a young love story.
+
+Illustrated by Orson Lowell. With decorative cover, frontispiece,
+title page in color, and ornamental head and tail pieces. Cloth. 12mo;
+5-1/8 × 7-3/4. $1.50.
+
+
+
+The Darlingtons
+
+By ELMORE ELLIOTT PEAKE
+
+A novel of American life in the middle West which deals principally
+with the fortunes of a family whose members are the social and
+financial leaders of their section. The heroine is a girl whose
+education is broad enough to enable her to assist her father in
+managing a railroad. The hero is a Methodist minister of liberal
+tendencies. The story is told with remarkable fidelity and unusual
+dramatic interest.
+
+Cloth. 12mo; 5-1/8 × 7-3/4. About $1.50.
+
+
+
+Two Unknown Phases of Life Made Known in Fiction
+
+
+The Powers That Prey
+
+By Josiah Flynt and Francis Walton
+
+The authors of the ten closely related stories which make up this
+volume have spent most of their lives studying the sociological
+problems of tramp and criminal life. Mr. Flynt writes: "So far as I
+am concerned, the book is the result of ten years of wandering with
+tramps and two years spent with various police organizations." The
+stories are a decided contribution to sociology, and yet, viewed as
+stories, they have unusual interest because of their remarkable vigor
+and their intense realism.
+
+Fully Illustrated. Cloth. 12mo; 5-1/8 × 7-3/4. $1.25.
+
+
+
+The Soul of the Street
+
+By NORMAN DUNCAN
+
+"The Soul of the Street" has a unity lacking in many volumes of short
+stories. They deal with Syrians and Turks, queer folk with queer ways,
+and Mr. Duncan has gotten at them with such sympathetic insight as only
+the poetic heart and the story-teller's eye can possess. Character,
+humor, poignant pathos, and the sad grotesque conjunctions of old
+and new civilizations are expressed through the medium of a style
+that has distinction, and strikes a note of rare personality.
+
+Cloth. 12mo; 5-1/8 × 7-3/4. About $1.00.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of An Eagle Flight, by José Rizal
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