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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:53:28 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:53:28 -0700 |
| commit | 1b89cf2fb3868b4eb9f53be5b19f3bb922a242f3 (patch) | |
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diff --git a/30278-h/30278-h.htm b/30278-h/30278-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fe8a3b6 --- /dev/null +++ b/30278-h/30278-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13010 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html +PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/html4/loose.dtd"> +<!-- This HTML file has been automatically generated from an XML source, using XSLT. 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I found in his novel, “Noli Me +Tangere,” the best picture of the life of the people of those +islands under Spanish rule, and the clearest exposition of the +governmental problems which Spain failed to solve, and with which our +own people must deal. It occurred to me that an English translation of +Rizal’s work would be of great value at the present time. My +first intention was to reproduce the entire novel as it was written, +but, after careful consideration, I thought best to abridge the story +by the omission of some parts which did not seem essential to the main +purpose of the work. The present volume is the result.</p> + +<p>Readers should not understand any of Rizal’s references to +priests and friars as reflections upon the Roman Catholic Church. He +was throughout his life an ardent Catholic, and died a firm adherent of +the Church. But he objected to the religious orders in the Philippine +Islands, because he knew well that they were more zealous in furthering +their own selfish ends than in seeking the advancement of Christianity. +From experience, Dr. Rizal knew that the friars, under cloak of the +gospel ministry, oppressed his fellow countrymen, and took advantage of +their superstition and ignorance. These wrongs he was brave enough to +expose in his writings. In the friars he saw an obstacle to the +education and enlightenment of the Filipino people, <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="xd0e151" href="#xd0e151">vi</a>]</span>and, using +moderate means, he did his utmost to secure reform. His writings will +explain to us the cause of the hatred shown by the Filipinos toward the +religious corporations, and will make clearer the nature of one of the +present problems in the Philippines.</p> + +<p>There are in the Philippines five religious orders: the Dominicans, +Franciscans, Recoletos, Augustines and Jesuits. According to John +Foreman, an eminent authority, the members of all of these, except the +last named, come from the lower classes in Spain, and are on the whole +comparatively ignorant and uncultured. Under the Spanish system of +government certain provinces were assigned to each of the +orders—except the Jesuits—and the friars were distributed +among the different parishes. In the town assigned to him the friar had +much authority. He was chief adviser in all civil affairs, and, by his +influence over the superstitious natives, maintained absolute control +in all matters pertaining to the local government as well as to the +local church. So firm was his hold that he led the Spanish government +to believe that the islands could not be ruled without his aid. Knowing +that his power rested on the ignorance of the people he discouraged +education among them. When native Filipinos advanced so far as to prove +an obstacle to the religious orders, as did Rizal and many others, the +friars sought to destroy them. Forgetting their holy mission, the +religious orders became commercial corporations, amassed enormous +wealth, and gained possession of the most valuable parts of the +islands, though to much of this property the titles are not clear.</p> + +<p>From my own observation, and from information derived from the +Spaniards themselves, I am convinced that the author has not overdrawn +his pictures. In fact I have learned of instances where the oppression +and practices of the friars were even worse than those described. Dr. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e157" href= +"#xd0e157">vii</a>]</span>Rizal has given us a portrayal of the +Filipino character from the viewpoint of the most advanced Filipino. He +brings out many facts that are pertinent to present-day questions, +showing especially the Malayan ideas of vengeance, which will put great +difficulties in the way of the pacifying of the islands by our forces. +The reader will not fail to notice the striking similarity between the +life of Ibarra, the hero, and that of Rizal, the author, a short sketch +of whose career has been given in the following pages.</p> + +<p>For assistance in preparing this volume for publication I offer +sincere thanks to William H. Glasson, Ph.D., Instructor in History in +the George School, Newtown, Pa. Dr. Glasson has read the entire +manuscript and proofs, and I have been glad to avail myself of his +advice on many doubtful points. I desire also to acknowledge my +indebtedness for favors received to Horatio Green, Interpreter to the +Supreme Court of the Philippine Islands, to W. G. Richardson, of New +York, and to the publishers.</p> + +<p style="text-indent:2em;">F. E. G.</p> + +<p style="text-indent:2em;">Ithaca, N. Y., Dec. 1, 1900. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="xd0e165" href="#xd0e165">ix</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="toc" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="normal">Contents.</h2> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter I. <span class="tocPagenum"> +Page</span></p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch1">Don Santiago’s Dinner</a> +<span class="tocPagenum">1</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter II.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch2">At the Dinner Table</a> <span +class="tocPagenum">11</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter III.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch3">Heretic and Revolutionist</a> +<span class="tocPagenum">16</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter IV.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch4">Captain Tiago</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">23</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter V.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch5">An Idyl on the Azotea</a> <span +class="tocPagenum">29</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter VI.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch6">Things Philippine</a> <span +class="tocPagenum">35</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter VII.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch7">San Diego and Its People</a> +<span class="tocPagenum">40</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter VIII.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch8">Ibarra and the Grave-Digger</a> +<span class="tocPagenum">47</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter IX.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch9">Adventures of a School +Teacher</a> <span class="tocPagenum">51</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter X.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch10">Lights and Shadows</a> <span +class="tocPagenum">57</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XI.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch11">The Fishing Party</a> <span +class="tocPagenum">59</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XII.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch12">In the Woods</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">68</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XIII.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch13">In the House of Tasio</a> <span +class="tocPagenum">77</span> <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e288" +href="#xd0e288">x</a>]</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XIV.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch14">The Eve of the Fiesta</a> <span +class="tocPagenum">83</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XV.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch15">As Night Comes On</a> <span +class="tocPagenum">87</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XVI.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch16">The Hoisting Crane</a> <span +class="tocPagenum">92</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XVII.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch17">The Banquet</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">104</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XVIII.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch18">The First Cloud</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">112</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XIX.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch19">His Excellency</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">116</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XX.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch20">The Procession</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">125</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXI.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch21">Doña Consolacion</a> +<span class="tocPagenum">129</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXII.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch22">Might and Right</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">137</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXIII.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch23">Two Visitors</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">145</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXIV.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch24">Episode in +Espadaña’s Life</a> <span class="tocPagenum"> +148</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXV.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch25">Schemes</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">161</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXVI.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch26">The Persecuted</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">165</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXVII.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch27">The Cock Fight</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">172</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXVIII.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch28">The Two Señoras</a> <span +class="tocPagenum">181</span> <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e424" +href="#xd0e424">xi</a>]</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXIX.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch29">The Enigma</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">188</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXX.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch30">The Voice of the Persecuted</a> +<span class="tocPagenum">191</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXXI.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch31">Elias’s Family</a> <span +class="tocPagenum">200</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXXII.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch32">Changes</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">207</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXXIII.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch33">Playing Cards with the +Shades</a> <span class="tocPagenum">211</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXXIV.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch34">The Discovery</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">217</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXXV.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch35">The Catastrophe</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">223</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXXVI.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch36">What People Say and Think</a> +<span class="tocPagenum">229</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXXVII.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch37">Vae Victis!</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">235</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXXVIII.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch38">The Accursed</a> <span class= +"tocPagenum">244</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XXXIX.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch39">Maria Clara is Married</a> <span +class="tocPagenum">248</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XL.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch40">The Pursuit on the Lake</a> +<span class="tocPagenum">259</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter">Chapter XLI.</p> + +<p class="tocArgument"><a href="#ch41">Father Dámaso +Explains</a> <span class="tocPagenum">267</span></p> + +<p class="tocChapter"><span class="smallcaps">Epilogue</span> <span +class="tocPagenum">271</span> <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e550" +href="#xd0e550">xiii</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="normal">José Rizal.</h2> + +<p>Dr. José Rizal, of whose “Noli Me Tangere,” the +following story, is an abridgement, is the most striking character to +be found in the history of the Philippine Islands. He was not only a +great martyr to the cause of liberty, and to the advancement of his +fellow men, but he was without doubt the greatest Filipino ever born, +and his memory is cherished to-day by his people as we ourselves +cherish the memory of Washington.</p> + +<p>Rizal was born on June 19th, 1861, in the pueblo of Calamba, in the +province of Laguna, on the Island of Luzon. He came of a Tagalog +family, which, it is said, acknowledged a slight mixture of Chinese +blood, and possessed considerable property. As a child he gave evidence +of extraordinary precocity. He is said to have written poetry in his +native tongue at eight years of age, produced a successful melodrama at +fourteen, and later to have won prizes in literary contests with +writers of recognized ability.</p> + +<p>After passing through the University of Manila, and receiving much +instruction at the hands of the Jesuit fathers, he was sent to Europe +to complete his education. He pursued courses of study in Spanish and +German universities, and won the degrees of Doctor of Medicine and +Doctor of Philosophy. Besides acquiring a knowledge of seven languages +he gained a brilliant reputation for proficiency in the branch of +optical surgery. For a time he was the leading assistant in the office +of a world-renowned specialist at Vienna.</p> + +<p>While in Europe Rizal wrote several books and also <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="xd0e562" href="#xd0e562">xiv</a>]</span>gave +considerable time to sculpture and painting. His artistic ability was +great, and some of his productions are now treasured by friends into +whose possession they came. Rizal’s best known work is his +“Noli Me Tangere,” written in Belgium about 1886 or 1887. +This novel, with its vivid picture of life in the Philippines, and its +exposure of Spanish misrule and oppression, won for him the bitter +hatred of the friars, and inspired the relentless persecution which +only ended with the taking of his life.</p> + +<p>In 1889 Dr. Rizal returned to the Philippines, but was soon +compelled to leave his native land in order to escape forcible +banishment. After a short residence in Japan, he went to London, where +he published a work on the History of the Philippine Islands. About the +same time a sequel to “Noli Me Tangere,” entitled “El +Filibusterismo,” was published. The hatred of the priests against +him was further inflamed by this production, and the government in +Manila was forced by the friars to forbid the circulation of any of his +writings. Copies of his novels were burned in the public squares, and +it was worth one’s life to be found possessing a copy. Until very +recently it has been almost impossible to obtain a copy of +Rizal’s works, and it was necessary to go to Europe to secure the +one from which the following abridged translation was made.</p> + +<p>In 1892 Dr. Rizal was so overcome with a desire to see again his +beautiful fatherland that he ventured, in the face of all the dangers +that threatened him, to return to Manila. He had scarcely set foot on +shore, however, before he was arrested and thrown in prison. The friars +demanded his execution on the ground that he carried incendiary +leaflets for the purpose of stirring up a rebellion, but subsequent +inquiries showed that such leaflets <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"xd0e568" href="#xd0e568">xv</a>]</span>had been introduced into his +baggage at the custom house through the intrigues of the Augustine +friars. Despite his indignant protestations of innocence; Rizal was +summarily condemned by the Spanish General, Despujols, to banishment at +Dapitan in the island of Mindanao. Although the trickery of the friars +became known to him, Despujols lacked courage to revoke his order of +banishment, for fear that he, too, would incur the hatred of the +powerful religious corporations.</p> + +<p>After four years of exile Rizal saw plainly that the hostility of +the friars would make it impossible for him to live in his native land. +In 1896 a plague of yellow fever broke out in the island of Cuba and +Rizal volunteered to lend his medical services to the Spanish +government. Ramon Blanco, then general-in-chief of the Spanish forces +in the Philippines, accepted the generous offer and recalled the young +man to Manila that he might sail at once for Cuba. Alarmed by +demonstrations of popular affection for Rizal, who represented the +aspirations of the Filipino people, the Spanish authorities broke faith +with him and imprisoned him in the Fuerza de Santiago. He was arraigned +on false charges, given a military trial, and at the dictation of the +religious orders was sentenced to be shot as a traitor.</p> + +<p>At dawn on December 30th, 1896, he was led to the place of execution +on the beautiful Luneta, overlooking the tranquil surface of Manila +Bay. Notices of the event had been published throughout the islands and +the day on which it was to occur was proclaimed a fiesta. Thousands +gathered around the place selected, and so evident was the sympathy of +the helpless Filipinos for the man who was to die for their sake that +Spain marshalled ten regiments of her soldiers about the spot. The +populace must be intimidated. A nation’s hero was about to become +a nation’s martyr. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="xd0e574" href= +"#xd0e574">xvi</a>]</span>With face uplifted he glanced at the +multitude about him and smiled. They tied his arms behind him and made +him face the waters of the bay. In vain he protested and begged that he +might die facing his executioners. A squad of his fellow countrymen, +who were serving in Spain’s army, were selected for the bloody +work. They drew in position to shoot him in the back. The order was +given to fire, but only one had the courage to obey. The bullet went +straight and the hero fell, but another shot was necessary to despatch +his life. His newly wedded wife remained with him to the end. The best +hope of the Filipino people was crushed; a light in a dark place was +snuffed out.</p> + +<p>Rizal was no extremist, no believer in harsh and bloody methods, no +revolutionist. He aimed to secure moderate and reasonable reforms, to +lessen the oppressive exactions of the friars, to examine into titles +of their land, and to make possible the education and uplifting of his +people. He loved Spain as he did his own country, and repeatedly used +his influence against the rebellious measures proposed by other +Filipino leaders. His execution was only one of the numerous outrages +which characterized Spain’s reign in the Philippines.</p> + +<p>In closing this short sketch of Rizal’s life we can do no +better than to quote the estimate of him made by Dr. Ferdinand +Blumentritt, professor in the University of Leitmeritz, Austria, who +prepared a biographical sketch of Rizal. Dr. Blumentritt said:</p> + +<p>“Not only is Rizal the most prominent man of his own people, +but the greatest man the Malayan race has produced. His memory will +never perish in his fatherland, and future generations of Spaniards +will yet learn to utter his name with respect and reverence.”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="body"><span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb1" href= +"#pb1">1</a>]</span> +<div id="ch1" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="super">Friars and Filipinos.</h2> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter I.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Don Santiago’s Dinner.</h2> + +<p>In the latter part of October, Don Santiago de los Santos, popularly +known as Captain Tiago, gave a dinner. Though, contrary to his custom, +he had not announced it until the afternoon of the day on which it was +to occur, the dinner became at once the absorbing topic of conversation +in Binondo, in the other suburbs of Manila, and even in the walled +city. Captain Tiago was generally considered a most liberal man, and +his house, like his country, shut its doors to no one, whether bent on +pleasure or on the development of some new and daring scheme.</p> + +<p>The dinner was given in the captain’s house in Analoague +street. The building is of ordinary size, of the style of architecture +common to the country, and is situated on that arm of the Pasig called +by some Binondo Creek. This, like all the streams in Manila, satisfies +a multitude of needs. It serves for bathing, mortar-mixing, laundering, +fishing, means of transportation and communication, and even for +drinking water, when the Chinese water-carriers find it convenient to +use it for that purpose. Although the most important artery of the +busiest part of the town, where the roar of commerce is loudest and +traffic most congested, the stream is, for a distance of a mile, +crossed by only one wooden bridge. During six months of the year, one +end of this bridge is out of order, and the other end is impassable +during the remaining time.</p> + +<p>The house is low and somewhat out of plumb. No one, <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb2" href="#pb2">2</a>]</span>however, knows whether +the faulty lines of the building are due to a defect in the sight of +the architect who constructed it, or whether they are the result of +earthquakes and hurricanes.</p> + +<p>A wide staircase, with green balustrades and carpeted here and there +in spots, leads from the <i>zaguan</i>, or tiled entrance hall, to the +second story of the house. On either side of this staircase is a row of +flower-pots and vases, placed upon chinaware pedestals, brilliant in +coloring and fantastic in design. Upstairs, we enter a spacious hall, +which is, in these islands, called <i>caida</i>. This serves to-night +for the dining hall. In the middle of the room is a large table, +profusely and richly ornamented, fairly groaning under the weight of +delicacies.</p> + +<p>In direct contrast to these worldly preparations are the motley +colored religious pictures on the walls—such subjects as +“Purgatory,” “Hell,” “The Last +Judgment,” “The Death of the Just,” and “The +Death of the Sinner.” Below these, in a beautiful renaissance +frame, is a large, curious linen engraving of two old ladies. The +picture bears the inscription “Our Lady of Peace, Propitious to +Travellers, Venerated in Antipolo, Visiting in the Guise of a Beggar +the Pious Wife of the Famous Captain Inés in Her +Sickness.” In the side of the room toward the river, Captain +Tiago has arranged fantastic wooden arches, half Chinese, half +European, through which one can pass to the roof which covers part of +the first story. This roof serves as a veranda, and has been +illuminated with Chinese lanterns in many colors and made into a pretty +little arbor or garden. The <i>sala</i> or principal room of the house, +where the guests assembled is resplendent with colossal mirrors and +brilliant chandeliers, and, upon a platform of pine, is a costly piano +of the finest workmanship.</p> + +<p>People almost filled this room, the men keeping on one side and the +women on the other, as though they were in a Catholic church or a +synagogue. Among the women were a number of young girls, both native +and Spanish. Occasionally one of them forgot herself and yawned, but +immediately sought to conceal it by covering her mouth with her fan. +Conversation was carried <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb3" href= +"#pb3">3</a>]</span>on in a low voice and died away in vague +mono-syllables, like the indistinct noises heard by night in a large +mansion.</p> + +<p>An elderly woman with a kindly face, a cousin of Captain Tiago, +received the ladies. She spoke Spanish regardless of all the +grammatical rules, and her courtesies consisted in offering to the +Spanish ladies cigarettes and betel nut (neither of which they use) and +in kissing the hands of the native women after the manner of the +friars. Finally the poor old lady was completely exhausted, and, taking +advantage of a distant crash occasioned by the breaking of a plate, +hurried off precipitately to investigate, murmuring: +“<i>Jesús!</i> Just wait, you +good-for-nothings!”</p> + +<p>Among the men there was somewhat more animation. In one corner of +the room were some cadets, who chatted with some show of interest, but +in a low voice. From time to time they surveyed the crowd and indicated +to each other different persons, meanwhile laughing more or less +affectedly.</p> + +<p>The only people who appeared to be really enjoying themselves were +two friars, two citizens and an officer of the army who formed a group +around a small table, on which were bottles of wine and English +biscuits. The officer was old, tall and sunburnt, and looked as the +Duke of Alva might have looked, had he been reduced to a command in the +civil guard. He said little, but what he did say was short and to the +point. One of the friars was a young Dominican, handsome and dressed +with extreme nicety. He wore gold mounted spectacles and preserved the +extreme gravity of youth. The other friar, however, who was a +Franciscan, talked a great deal and gesticulated even more. Although +his hair was getting gray, he seemed to be well preserved and in robust +health. His splendid figure, keen glance, square jaw and herculean form +gave him the appearance of a Roman patrician in disguise. He was gay +and talked briskly, like one who is not afraid to speak out. Brusque +though his words might be, his merry laugh removed any disagreeable +impression.</p> + +<p>As to the citizens, one of them was small in stature <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb4" href="#pb4">4</a>]</span>and wore a black beard, +his most noticeable feature being his large nose—so large that +you could scarcely believe that it was all his own. The other was a +young blonde, apparently a recent arrival in the country. The latter +was carrying on a lively discussion with the Franciscan.</p> + +<p>“You will see,” said the friar, “when you have +been in the country a few months, and will be convinced that what I say +is right. It is one thing to govern in Madrid and another to rule in +the Philippines.”</p> + +<p>“But——”</p> + +<p>“I, for example,” continued Father Dámaso, +raising his voice to prevent the other from speaking, “I, who can +point to my twenty-three years of existence on bananas and rice, can +speak with some authority on this subject. Do not come to me with +theories or arguments, for I know the native. Remember, that when I +came to this country, I was sent to a parish, small and largely devoted +to agriculture. I did not understand Tagalog very well, but I received +the confessions of the women and we managed to understand each other. +In fact, they came to think so much of me that three years afterward, +when I was sent to another and larger town, where a vacancy had been +created by the death of the native parish priest, all the women were in +tears. They overwhelmed me with presents, they saw me off with bands of +music——”</p> + +<p>“But this only shows——”</p> + +<p>“Wait, wait! Do not be in a hurry! My successor remained there +a still shorter time, but when he left there were more people to see +him off, more tears shed, and more music played, although he had +treated the people worse than I, and had raised the parish dues to a +sum almost double the amount I had exacted.”</p> + +<p>“But allow me——”</p> + +<p>“Furthermore, I was twenty years in the town of San Diego and +it was only a few months ago—that—that I left. Twenty +years! Surely any one will admit that twenty years is time enough to +get acquainted with a town. There were six thousand people in San +Diego, and I knew every one of them as if he were my own <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb5" href="#pb5">5</a>]</span>child. I knew even the +private affairs of them all; I knew in what way this man was +‘crooked,’ where the shoe pinched that one, what slips +every girl had made and with whom, and who was the true father of each +child, for I received all of their confessions and they always +confessed scrupulously. I can prove what I say by Santiago, our host, +for he has considerable property in that town, and it was there that we +became friends. Well, then! This will show you what sort of people the +natives are: when I went away, only a few old women and some lay +brothers saw me off. And that, after I had been there twenty years! +Don’t you see that this proves beyond a doubt that all the +reforms attempted by the Ministers of the Government in Madrid are +perfectly absurd?”</p> + +<p>It was now the young man’s turn to be perplexed. The +lieutenant, who had been listening to the argument, knit his brows. The +little man with the black beard made ready to combat or support Father +Dámaso’s arguments, while the Dominican was content to +remain entirely neutral.</p> + +<p>“But do you believe——,” the young man +finally asked in a curious mood, and looking straight at the friar.</p> + +<p>“Do I believe it? As I do the Gospel! The native is so +indolent!”</p> + +<p>“Ah! Pardon me for interrupting you,” said the young +blonde, lowering his voice and drawing his chair closer, “but you +have spoken a word that arouses my interest. Is this indolence an +inherent characteristic of the native, or is it true, as a foreign +traveller has said in speaking of a country whose inhabitants are of +the same race as these, that this indolence is only a fabrication to +excuse our own laziness, our backwardness and the faults of our +celestial system?”</p> + +<p>“Bah! That is nothing but envy! Ask Señor Laruja, who +knows this country very well, whether the native has his equal in the +world for indolence and ignorance.”</p> + +<p>“It is a fact,” replied the little man referred to, +“that <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb6" href= +"#pb6">6</a>]</span>nowhere in the world can any one be found more +indolent than the native. Positively nowhere!”</p> + +<p>“Nor more vicious and ungrateful!”</p> + +<p>“Nor with less education!”</p> + +<p>Somewhat uneasy, the blonde man began to glance about the room. +“Gentlemen,” he said in a low voice, “I believe that +we are in the house of a native, and these young ladies +may——”</p> + +<p>“Bah! Don’t be so sensitive. How long have you been in +the country?”</p> + +<p>“Four days,” answered the young man somewhat +ruffled.</p> + +<p>“Did you come here as an employee?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. I came on my own account in order to become +acquainted with the country.”</p> + +<p>“Man, what a rare bird you are!” exclaimed Father +Dámaso, looking at him with curiosity. “To come here on +your own account for such foolish ends! What a phenomenon! And when so +many books have been written about this +country——”</p> + +<p>Then, striking the arm of his chair with sudden violence, he +exclaimed: “The country is being lost; it is lost already. The +governing power supports heretics against the ministers of +God.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” again asked the lieutenant, half +rising from his chair.</p> + +<p>“What do I mean?” repeated Father Dámaso, again +raising his voice, and facing the lieutenant. “I mean what I say. +I mean that, when a priest turns away the corpse of a heretic from his +cemetery, no one, not even the King himself, has the right to +interfere, and still less to punish. And yet a general, a miserable +little general——”</p> + +<p>“Father! His Excellency is the vice-regal representative of +His Majesty the King!” exclaimed the officer, rising to his +feet.</p> + +<p>“What do I care for His Excellency, or for any of your +vice-regal representatives!” answered the Franciscan, rising in +his turn. “In any other time than the present, he would have been +thrown down stairs in the same way as the religious corporations +treated the sacrilegious <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb7" href= +"#pb7">7</a>]</span>governor Bustamente in his time. Those were the +days when there was faith!”</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you right here that I don’t allow +any—His Excellency represents His Majesty the King!”</p> + +<p>“I don’t care whether he is king or rogue. For us there +is no king other than the true——”</p> + +<p>“Stop this immediately!” shouted the lieutenant in a +threatening manner, and as though he were commanding his own soldiers. +“Take back what you have said, or to-morrow I shall inform His +Excellency.”</p> + +<p>“Go and tell him at once! Go tell him!” answered Father +Dámaso, sarcastically, at the same time approaching the +lieutenant with his fists doubled. “Don’t you think for a +moment that, because I wear the dress of a monk, I’m not a man. +Hurry! Go tell him! I’ll lend you my carriage.”</p> + +<p>The discussion began to grow ridiculous as the speakers became more +heated, but, at this point, fortunately, the Dominican interfered.</p> + +<p>“Gentlemen!” he said in a tone of authority, and with +that nasal twang which is so characteristic of the friars, “there +is no reason why you should thus confuse matters or take offense where +it is not intended. We should distinguish between what Father +Dámaso says as a man, and what he says as a priest. Whatever he +may say as a priest cannot be offensive, for the words of a priest are +understood to be absolutely true.”</p> + +<p>“But I understand what his motives are, Father Sibyla!” +interrupted the lieutenant, who saw that he would be drawn into a net +of such fine distinction that, if he allowed it to go on, Father +Dámaso would get off scot free. “I know very well what his +motives are, and Your Reverence will also perceive them. During the +absence of Father Dámaso from San Diego, his assistant buried +the body of a very worthy person. Yes, sir, an extremely worthy person! +I had known the man from time to time and had often been his guest. +What if he never had been to confession? I do not confess, either. To +say that he committed suicide is a lie, a slander. A man such as he, +with a son whose success and love were more than all the world to him; +a man <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb8" href="#pb8">8</a>]</span>who +believed in God, who fulfilled his duty to society, who was honorable +and just—such a man does not commit suicide. That is what I say! +I am not telling you all that I think about this matter, and Your +Reverence should be very thankful that I restrain myself.”</p> + +<p>Turning his back on the Franciscan, he continued: “As I was +saying, this priest, when he returned to the town, after maltreating +his coadjutor, ordered that the man’s body be taken up and thrown +out of the cemetery, to be buried I know not where. The town of San +Diego was too cowardly to protest, though, in fact, very few people +knew much about the matter. The dead man had no relatives in the town +and his only son was in Europe. His Excellency, however, learned about +the affair, and being at heart upright and just, he ordered that the +priest be punished. As a result, Father Dámaso was transferred +to another but better town. That is all there was to it. Now you can +make all the distinctions you like.”</p> + +<p>So saying, he left the group.</p> + +<p>“I am very sorry to have touched upon so delicate a +subject,” said Father Sibyla, “but, after all, if the +change from one town to another was to your +advantage——”</p> + +<p>“How could it be to my advantage? How about all the things +that I lost?” interrupted Father Dámaso, fairly boiling +over with rage.</p> + +<p>“Good evening, gentlemen! Good evening, Father!” said +Captain Santiago, who at that instant entered the room, leading a youth +by the hand. On saluting his guests in this manner, he kissed the hands +of the priests, who, by the way, forgot to give him their blessing. The +Dominican took off his gold-rimmed spectacles in order to examine the +new arrival at better advantage, while Father Dámaso, turning +pale at the sight, stared at the youth with eyes wide open.</p> + +<p>“I have the honor of presenting to you Don Crisostomo Ibarra, +the son of my deceased friend,” said Captain Tiago. “The +young man has just arrived from Europe, and I have been to meet +him.” At the mere mention of the name, exclamations were heard in +all parts of the room. The lieutenant, forgetting himself <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb9" href="#pb9">9</a>]</span>entirely, did not stop +to salute his host, but at once approached the young man and surveyed +him from head to foot. The youth exchanged the usual greetings with +those who had gathered around him. He showed no striking peculiarity, +except in his sombre dress, which was in deep contrast with that of the +other persons present. His athletic build, his appearance, and every +movement he made showed, however, that a fine mind and a healthy body +had both been highly developed. You could see from his frank and +vivacious face that he had Spanish blood in his veins. Although his +hair, eyes and complexion were dark, his cheeks had a slight color, +due, no doubt, to residence in cold countries.</p> + +<p>“What!” he exclaimed with glad surprise, “the +parish priest of my own town! Father Dámaso, my father’s +intimate friend!” Every one in the room looked at the Franciscan, +but the latter made no motion.</p> + +<p>“You must excuse me, if I have made a mistake,” added +Ibarra, somewhat in doubt because of the apathy of the friar.</p> + +<p>“You have made no mistake,” the priest finally answered +in a strained voice, “but your father was never an intimate +friend of mine.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra slowly withdrew the hand which he had offered, looking at the +friar with great surprise. As he turned about, he came face to face +with the lieutenant just approaching.</p> + +<p>“My boy, are you the son of Don Rafael Ibarra?”</p> + +<p>The young man bowed in acquiescence. Father Dámaso settled +back into his arm-chair and fixed his eyes upon the lieutenant.</p> + +<p>“Welcome to your country! May you be more happy in it than was +your father!” exclaimed the officer in a trembling voice. +“I had many dealings with your father and I knew him well, and I +can say that he was one of the most worthy and honorable men in the +Philippines.”</p> + +<p>“Sir,” replied Ibarra with emotion, “your praise +of my father puts me in doubt as to his fate. Even now I, his own son, +am ignorant of it all.”</p> + +<p>The eyes of the old man filled with tears. He turned <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb10" href="#pb10">10</a>]</span>and hurriedly +withdrew. Ibarra found himself standing alone in the middle of the +room. His host had disappeared, and he turned to a group of gentlemen, +who, as soon as they saw him coming, formed a semicircle to receive +him.</p> + +<p>“Gentlemen,” he said, “in Germany, when a stranger +attends any social function and there is no one present to introduce +him, it is allowable for him to introduce himself. Permit me to avail +myself of this practice. Gentlemen, my name is Juan Crisostomo Ibarra y +Magsalin.” The others gave their names in turn, of which the most +were comparatively unknown.</p> + +<p>“My name is A——a,” said one of the young +men, bowing stiffly.</p> + +<p>“Then, perhaps, I have the honor of addressing the poet whose +works have kept up my enthusiasm for my country? I have been told that +you have stopped writing, but no one has told me why.”</p> + +<p>“Why? Because there is no use in invoking the muses for false +and foolish ends. A case has been made out against one man for having +put into verse a true story of Pero Grullo. I am not going to get +myself into a similar scrape. They may call me a poet, but they shall +not call me a fool.”</p> + +<p>“And can you not tell us what that true story was?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. The poet said that the son of a lion is also a lion, and +for saying this he narrowly escaped being banished.”</p> + +<p>“Dinner is ready,” announced a waiter who had been +borrowed from the Cáfé Campaña. The guests began +to file into the dining room, not, however, without many sighs, and +even some prayers among the women, especially the natives, that the +dreaded affair would soon be over. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb11" +href="#pb11">11</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch2" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter II.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">At the Dinner Table.</h2> + +<p>Father Sibyla wore a satisfied air. He moved along tranquilly, and +his closed, thin lips showed no signs of disdain. On the other hand, +the Franciscan was in a very bad humor. As he walked toward the table, +he kicked over the chairs which happened to be in his way and boxed the +ears of one of the cadets. The lieutenant was very solemn and +grave.</p> + +<p>The two friars instinctively started for the head of the table, +perhaps by force of habit, and, as might have been expected, they met +on opposite sides of the same chair. Then, with ponderous courtesy, +each entreated the other to sit down, giving in turn his reasons why +the other should take precedence. Every one at the table understood how +both really felt in the matter, and all knew well that the one who did +not take the coveted seat would grumble discontentedly for the +remainder of the evening. The farce proceeded something like this:</p> + +<p>“You take it, Brother Dámaso! It is for you!”</p> + +<p>“No, you take it, Brother Sibyla!”</p> + +<p>“You are an old friend of the family, the confessor of its +deepest mysteries; your age, your dignity, +your——”</p> + +<p>“No, that is all right as far as age goes, but, on the other +hand you are the priest of this suburb,” answered Father +Dámaso in an insincere tone, without, however, leaving the +chair.</p> + +<p>“As you order it, I obey,” concluded Father Sibyla, +making ready to sit down.</p> + +<p>“But I do not order it,” protested the Franciscan, +“I do not <i>order</i> it.”</p> + +<p>Father Sibyla was about to take the seat without any further regard +to the protests of his brother, when his eyes chanced to meet those of +the lieutenant. According to the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb12" +href="#pb12">12</a>]</span>religious customs in the Philippines, the +highest military officer is inferior to even a convent cook. “<i +lang="la">Cedent arma togæ</i>,” said Cicero in the Senate. +“<i lang="la">Cedent arma cottæ</i>,” say the friars +in the Philippines. Father Sibyla, however, was a person of some +culture and refinement, and, as soon as he noticed the expression on +the lieutenant’s face, said: “Here! We are now out in the +world, and not in the Church. This seat belongs to you, +lieutenant!” But, to judge from the tone of his voice, he thought +that, although he was out in the world and not in the Church, the seat +nevertheless belonged to him. The lieutenant, either to save himself +trouble or in order to avoid sitting between two friars, declined the +honor in a very few words.</p> + +<p>Neither of the disputants had thought of the owner of the house. +Ibarra saw him looking upon the scene and smiling with +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>“How is this, Don Santiago! Aren’t you going to sit down +with us?”</p> + +<p>But all of the seats were already occupied, and Lucullus did not +dine in the house of Lucullus.</p> + +<p>“Sit still! Don’t get up!” said Captain Tiago, +laying his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “The fact is +that this feast is given in honor of the Virgin on account of your safe +arrival. Here! Bring on the <i>tinola</i>! I ordered some <i>tinola</i> +made expressly for you, for I feel quite certain that you have not had +any since you left the Philippines a long while ago.”</p> + +<p>A large dish was brought in, still steaming and filled to the brim +with <i>tinola</i>. The Dominican, after murmuring the <i> +Benedicite</i> (to which only a few of those present could give the +response), began to serve the contents of the dish. Either from +carelessness or for some other reason, he passed to Father +Dámaso a plate filled with the soup and stew, but containing +only two small pieces of chicken, a bony neck and a tough wing. +Meanwhile the others, especially Ibarra, were eating all sorts of +choice bits. The Franciscan, of course, noticed this, mussed over the +stew, took a mouthful of the soup, dropped his spoon with a clatter +into his plate, and pushed the dish to one side. While this was going +on, the Dominican appeared to be absorbed in conversation with the +young <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb13" href= +"#pb13">13</a>]</span>blonde. Señor Laruja had also begun to +converse with Ibarra.</p> + +<p>“How long has it been since you were last in this +country?” said he.</p> + +<p>“About seven years,” responded Ibarra.</p> + +<p>“You must have forgotten all about it.”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary, although my country seems to have forgotten +me, I have always kept her in mind.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” interposed the blonde.</p> + +<p>“I mean that for over a year I have not received any news from +here, so that now I feel like a total stranger. I do not yet know how +or when my father died.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” exclaimed the lieutenant.</p> + +<p>“Where have you been that you did not telegraph?” asked +one of the ladies. “When I was married, we telegraphed to the +Peninsula.”</p> + +<p>“Señora, for the last two years I have been in northern +Europe, in Germany and in Poland.”</p> + +<p>“And what country of Europe do you like best?” asked the +young blonde, who had been listening interestedly.</p> + +<p>“After Spain, which is my second fatherland, oh—any free +country in Europe.”</p> + +<p>“You seem to have travelled a great deal—what is the +most remarkable thing that you have observed?” asked Laruja.</p> + +<p>Ibarra appeared to be reflecting on the question. “Remarkable? +In what way?”</p> + +<p>“For instance, in the life of the different +peoples,—their social, political and religious +life——”</p> + +<p>Ibarra meditated for some little time. “I always made it a +point to study the history of a country before visiting it, and I find +that national development invariably follows perfectly natural rules. I +have always noticed that the prosperity or poverty of different peoples +is in direct proportion to their liberties or their lack of liberty, +or, in other words, in proportion to the sacrifices or selfishness of +their forefathers.”</p> + +<p>“And is that all you have observed?” asked the +Franciscan, with a loud laugh. Up to this time, he had not uttered a +single word, but had given his attention to the dinner. “It was +not worth while to squander your fortune <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb14" href="#pb14">14</a>]</span>for the purpose of learning such a +trifle—a thing that every school boy knows.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra looked at him intently, doubtful what to say. The guests +glanced at each other, fearing that a quarrel would break out. +“The dinner has been too long, and Your Reverence is affected by +too much wine,” Ibarra was about to reply, but he checked himself +in time and only said: “Gentlemen, do not wonder at the +familiarity with which our old parish priest treats me. He treated me +this way when I was a child, and the years that have passed since then +have not changed His Reverence. I derive a certain amount of pleasure +from it, for I am reminded of those days when His Reverence was a +frequent visitor at our house and honored my father’s +table.”</p> + +<p>The Dominican glanced furtively at the Franciscan, who was +trembling. Ibarra continued, rising from his chair: “You will +allow me to withdraw, for I have only just arrived, and I must leave +town to-morrow. Besides, I have a great many things to do before I +leave. The dinner is practically finished, and I drink very little wine +and scarcely touch spirits. Gentlemen, here’s to Spain and the +Philippines.”</p> + +<p>Saying this, he emptied the glass, which, until then, he had not +touched. The old lieutenant followed his example, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>“Do not go!” said Captain Tiago to him in a low voice. +“Maria Clara is coming immediately. Isabel has just gone to get +her. The new parish priest of your town is also coming, and he is a +saint.”</p> + +<p>“I shall come to-morrow before I leave. I have to make a most +important visit yet to-night, and really must go!” With this he +took his departure. In the meantime, the Franciscan had recovered +himself.</p> + +<p>“You see how it is,” said he to the young blonde, +gesticulating with his dessert knife. “It is nothing but pride. +He could not bear to have a priest reprove him. Can decent people +believe it? This is the evil consequence of sending young men to +Europe. The Government ought to prohibit it.”</p> + +<p>That night, the young blonde wrote, among other things, in the first +chapter of his “Colonial Studies”: “How the <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb15" href="#pb15">15</a>]</span>neck and wing +of a chicken in a friar’s plate of <i>tinola</i> can disturb the +gayety of a feast!” And among his other observations were the +following: “In the Philippines the most insignificant person at a +dinner or a feast is the host. The owner of the house has only to +remain out in the street, and everything will go along beautifully. In +the present state of affairs, it would be well to forbid the Filipinos +to leave their country, and not to teach them how to read.” <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb16" href="#pb16">16</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch3" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter III.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Heretic and Revolutionist.</h2> + +<p>Ibarra was still confused, but the evening breeze, which, in Manila, +is at this time of the year always cool and refreshing, seemed gently +to lift the hazy mist which hung over his eyes. He removed his hat and +drew a deep, long breath.</p> + +<p>Men of all nationalities passed by in swift carriages or in +slow-going, rented <i>calesas</i>. He was walking at that slow pace +characteristic alike of deep thought and laziness, and was making his +way toward the Plaza of Binondo. He looked about in search of any old +and familiar objects. Yes, there were the same old streets, the same +old houses with white and blue fronts, the same old walls covered with +whitewash or repainted in poor imitation of granite; there was the same +old church tower, its clock with transparent face still marking the +hours; there, too, were the old Chinese shops, with their dirty +curtains and iron rods, one of which remained unrepaired as he himself +had bent it when a boy.</p> + +<p>“Things go slowly here!” he muttered and continued up +the street past the vestry.</p> + +<p>As they dished up flavored ices, the street <span class="corr" id= +"xd0e880" title="Source: venders">vendors</span> were still crying +“sorbettes.” The same little cocoanut oil lamps furnished +light for the stands where native women and Chinese disposed of their +sweetmeats and fruit.</p> + +<p>“It is marvellous,” he exclaimed. “There is the +same Chinaman who was at that stand seven years ago. There is that same +old woman whom I remember so well. Why, one might think my seven years +in Europe but a night’s sleep. And, by heavens, they have not yet +repaired this broken place in the pavement!”</p> + +<p>Indeed, the stone which had been torn out of the pavement before he +left Manila had not yet been replaced. <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb17" href="#pb17">17</a>]</span>While he was meditating upon the +wonderful stability of things in so unstable a country, some one placed +a hand upon his shoulder. With a start he looked up, and his eyes met +those of the old lieutenant, who also had left the Captain’s +house. A smile had displaced the officer’s usual harsh expression +and characteristic frown.</p> + +<p>“Be careful, young man!” said he. “Remember what +happened to your father!”</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon. You seem to have esteemed my father very +highly. Can you tell me what has been his fate?” asked Ibarra, +gazing intently into the lieutenant’s eyes.</p> + +<p>“Do you not know?” said the officer.</p> + +<p>“I asked Don Santiago, but he said that he would tell me +nothing until to-morrow. Have you no information regarding +him?”</p> + +<p>“Why, yes; everybody knows about him. He died in +prison.”</p> + +<p>The young man stepped back and stared wildly at the officer. +“In prison! Who died in prison?” he asked in +astonishment.</p> + +<p>“Why, your father, who had been arrested,” answered the +officer somewhat surprised.</p> + +<p>“What! My father in prison! Arrested and imprisoned! Man, what +are you talking about? Do you know who my father was? Are +you——?” asked the young man, nervously grasping the +officer’s arm.</p> + +<p>“I don’t think that I am mistaken: Don Rafael +Ibarra.”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Don Rafael Ibarra,” repeated the young man, +scarcely able to utter the words.</p> + +<p>“I thought that you knew it,” said the officer, in a +sympathetic voice, as he saw the emotion his words had caused. “I +thought that you knew it; but be brave. Here, you know, no man can be +honorable without being imprisoned.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot believe that you are not jesting,” replied +Ibarra, after a few minutes of deep silence. “Can you tell me for +what offense he was imprisoned?”</p> + +<p>The old man paused as if to meditate. “It seems strange to me +that you have not been kept informed as to the affairs of your +family.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb18" href= +"#pb18">18</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“My father’s last letter, which I received a year ago, +told me not to be uneasy if he failed to write to me, for he was very +busy. He advised me to continue my studies, he sent me his +blessing——”</p> + +<p>“In that case, he must have written the letter to you shortly +before his death. It is almost a year since we buried him in his own +town.”</p> + +<p>“Why was my father arrested?” asked Ibarra in a voice +full of emotion.</p> + +<p>“The cause of his arrest was an honorable one. I must go to my +quarters now; walk along with me and then I can tell you on the way. +Take my arm.”</p> + +<p>They walked for some time in melancholy silence. Deep in thought and +nervously stroking his goatee, the officer sought inspiration before he +could begin the pitiful tale.</p> + +<p>“As you very well know,” he at last began, “your +father was the richest man in the province, and, although he was loved +and highly respected by many, there were some envious persons who hated +him. Your father had a great many enemies among the priests and the +Spaniards. Some months after your departure, trouble arose between Don +Rafael and Father Dámaso, but I do not know what it was all +about. Father Dámaso accused your father of not attending +confession. In former times, however, he had never attended confession. +Nothing was said about it, and he and the priest were good friends, as +you will remember. Furthermore, Don Rafael was a very honorable man and +much more upright and just than many who go to confession regularly. He +was very conscientious, and, in speaking to me in regard to his +troubles with Father Dámaso, used to say:</p> + +<p>“‘Señor Guevara, do you believe that God will +forgive a crime, a murder for instance, simply because that crime has +been confessed to a priest—confessed to a man who is in duty +bound to keep it secret? Will God pardon a man whose repentance is +brought about by his cowardly fear of hell? I have a very different +opinion of God. I cannot see how one evil can be corrected by another, +nor how pardon can be procured by mere idle tears and donations to the +Church.’ Your father always followed the strictest rules of +morality. I may safely say that he never harmed <span class="pagenum"> +[<a id="pb19" href="#pb19">19</a>]</span>any one, but, on the contrary, +always sought by doing good to offset certain unjust deeds committed by +your grandfathers. However, his troubles with the priests continued and +took on a dangerous aspect. Father Dámaso alluded to him from +the pulpit, and, if he did not do so directly by name, it was an +oversight on his part, for anything might be expected from a man of his +character. I foresaw that sooner or later the affair would have a bad +ending.”</p> + +<p>The old lieutenant paused for a few minutes and then continued: +“About this time there came to the province a man who had been in +the artillery, but had been thrown out of the ranks on account of his +brutality and ignorance. This man had to make a livelihood. He was not +allowed to engage in the work of an ordinary laborer, since that might +damage Spain’s prestige, but somehow obtained the position of +collector of taxes on vehicles. He had no education whatever, and the +natives soon found it out. A Spaniard who cannot read and write is a +wonder to them, and hence he became the subject of all sorts of +ridicule. Knowing that he was being laughed at, he became ashamed to +collect his taxes. This had a bad effect on his character, which was +already bad enough. People used to give him documents upside down to +see him pretend to read them. He would make a show of doing so, and +then, on the first blank space he found, would fill in some sprawling +characters which, I may say, represented him very accurately. The +natives continued to pay their taxes, but kept on ridiculing him. He +fairly raved with anger and worked himself up to such a frame of mind +that he respected none. Finally, he had some words with your father. It +happened that one day, while the collector was studying a document +which had been given to him in a store, some school boys came along. +One of them called the attention of his companions to the collector, +and they all began to laugh and point their fingers at the unhappy man. +The collector finally lost his patience, turned quickly and chased his +tormentors. The boys, of course, ran in all directions, at the same +time mimicking a child learning the alphabet. Blind with rage because +he could not reach them, he threw his cane, struck one of the boys on +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb20" href="#pb20">20</a>]</span>the head +and knocked him down. Not content with this, he went up and kicked the +boy several times. Unfortunately, your father happened to be passing +just at the moment. Indignant at what he saw, he seized the tax +collector by the arm and severely reproached him for his actions. The +tax collector in anger raised his cane to strike, but your father was +too quick for him. With that strength which he inherited from his +forefathers, he, as some say, struck the collector, or, as others +claim, only gave him a push. The fact is that the man staggered and +fell to the ground, and, in falling, struck his head against a stone. +Don Rafael quietly lifted up the wounded boy and carried him to the +court house near by, leaving the collector where he had fallen. The +ex-artilleryman began to bleed at the mouth and died without regaining +consciousness.</p> + +<p>“Naturally the law stepped in. They showered calumnies of all +kinds upon your father and accused him of being a heretic and a +revolutionist. To be a heretic is a great misfortune anywhere or at any +time, but it was especially so at this particular time, for the chief +magistrate of the province was the loudest prayer maker in the Church. +To be a revolutionist is still worse. One might better have killed +three highly educated tax collectors than be thus accused. Everybody +deserted your father, and his books and papers were seized. He was +accused of being a subscriber to ‘El Correo del Ultramar’ +and to Madrid newspapers, of having sent you to Germany, of having in +his possession incriminating papers and pictures, and—well, I +don’t know what not. He was even attacked because, although he +was the descendant of Spaniards, he wore the dress of the natives. If +your father had been anybody else, he would have been acquitted, for +the doctors pronounced the death of the collector due to natural +causes. His fortune, however, his confidence in the law, and his hatred +for everything which seemed unlawful and unjust, cost him his life. I +myself, much as I dislike begging for mercy, called upon the Governor +General, the predecessor of the present Governor. I brought out the +fact that a man who aided every poor Spaniard, who gave food and +shelter to all, and whose veins were filled with the generous blood +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb21" href="#pb21">21</a>]</span>of +Spain—such a man could not be a revolutionist. In vain I argued +for him, pledged my own life for him, and swore by my military honor. +What did it all amount to? I was badly received, curtly and summarily +dismissed, and called a fool.”</p> + +<p>The old man paused to take breath. His young companion neither +looked up nor made a sound. The narrator proceeded: “I took +charge of the case for your father. I called upon the celebrated +Filipino lawyer, young A——a, but he refused to undertake +the defense. ‘I would lose the case,’ he said, ‘my +defense would cause new accusations against him, and perhaps bring them +upon me. Go and see Señor M——, who is an eloquent +orator, a Spaniard and a man of great reputation.’ I did so, and +the celebrated lawyer took charge of the case, which he conducted in a +masterful and brilliant manner. But your father had many enemies, some +of whom did their work secretly. There were many false witnesses in the +case, and their calumnies, which anywhere else would have been +overthrown by a single sarcastic phrase from the defending attorney, +were here given a great deal of weight. As fast as the attorney proved +the falsity of their accusations, new charges were brought forward. +They accused him of having wrongfully taken possession of a large tract +of land. They sued him for damages and for injuries caused. They said +that he had dealings with the organized bandits or <i>tulisanes</i>, +and that thus he had been able to keep his property unmolested. In +fact, the case became so complicated that within a year no one +understood it. The chief magistrate was called away from his post and +replaced by another of good reputation, but unfortunately this +magistrate, too, was displaced in a few months.</p> + +<p>“The sufferings, disappointments and discomforts of prison +life, and his great grief at seeing the ingratitude of so many supposed +friends, finally broke down your father’s iron constitution and +he became fatally ill. When it was all over; when he had proved himself +not guilty of being an enemy to his country, and innocent of the death +of the tax collector, he died in prison, with no one to care for him in +his last hours. I arrived just as he was expiring.”</p> + +<p>The old man had finished all he had to say. Ibarra, <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb22" href="#pb22">22</a>]</span>overcome with grief +at the pathetic story he had heard, could not utter a word. The two had +arrived at the gate of the barracks. Stopping and shaking hands with +the young man, the officer said: “My boy, Captain Tiago can give +you the details. I must say good night, for my duty calls me.” +With deep emotion, Ibarra grasped the lean hand of the lieutenant, and +then looked after him in silence until he disappeared in the building. +Turning slowly about, he saw a carriage passing and made a sign to the +cabman.</p> + +<p>“Lala’s Hotel,” he said in a low voice.</p> + +<p>“This fellow is just out of jail,” said the cabman to +himself as he whipped up his horses. <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb23" href="#pb23">23</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch4" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter IV.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Captain Tiago.</h2> + +<p>Captain Tiago was short in stature, but both his body and his face +were well filled out. His complexion was clear and he did not appear to +be more than thirty or thirty-five years old, although he was really +more than that. In these times his face always wore a pleasant +expression. His head was small, round and covered with hair as black as +ebony, long in front and very short behind. This head, according to +reports, contained a great many things. His eyes were small but not +terrifying, and always without expression. In short, the Captain might +have passed for a good-looking little man, if his mouth had not been +disfigured by the use of tobacco and the betel nut, the juices of which +trickled out of the corners of his lips and destroyed the symmetry of +his features. However, despite these habits, both his own teeth and the +two that the dentist had made for him, at twelve <i>pesos</i> each, +were well preserved.</p> + +<p>Tiago was considered one of the richest property owners in Binondo, +and he also owned large plantations in the provinces of Pampanga and +Laguna de Bay, especially in the town of San Diego. The rent of all +these lands increased every year. San Diego was his favorite town on +account of its excellent bathing place, its famous cockpit and the +pleasant memories associated with the neighborhood. He spent at least +two months in this town every year. Captain Tiago also had a great deal +of property in Santo Cristo, in Analoague Street and in Rosario Street. +In partnership with a Chinaman he carried on a profitable business in +opium. It is understood that he had contracts with the Government for +feeding the prisoners in Bilibid and that he supplied fodder to many of +the principal houses in Manila. He was in good standing with the +authorities, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb24" href= +"#pb24">24</a>]</span>able, clever, and even daring in his speculations +in the necessities of others. Hence it was that at this time the +Captain was as happy as a narrow-minded man could be in such a country. +He was rich, and was at peace with God, the Government and man.</p> + +<p>That Tiago was at peace with God was indisputable. In fact, there +was no reason whatever for his not being so, since he was well situated +as far as worldly matters go and had never loaned God any money. He +never addressed God in his prayers, not even when he was in dire +straits. He was rich, and his money, he thought, could pray for him. +For masses and prayers, God had created powerful and lofty priests; for +special religious functions and rosaries, God, in His infinite +goodness, for the benefit of the rich, had created poor +people—poor people who for a <i>peso</i> would make half a dozen +prayers, and would read all the Holy Books, even to the Hebrew Bible, +if the pay were large enough. If at any time he found himself in hard +straits and needed heavenly aid and was out of red Chinese candles, he +applied to the saints, making them great promises in order to win their +favor and convince them of his good intentions.</p> + +<p>Captain Tiago was therefore beloved by the priests, respected by the +sacristans, fondled by the Chinese candle-makers and fire-cracker +merchants, and thoroughly happy in the religion of the world. Some even +attributed to him great influence in the ecclesiastical court.</p> + +<p>That the Captain was at peace with the Government must not be +doubted simply because such a thing seems impossible. Incapable of +conceiving a new idea and content with the <i>modus vivendi</i>, he was +always willing to obey the latest official recruit in any of the +Government offices and even ready to give him at all times of the year +such presents as hams, capons, turkeys, and Chinese fruit. He was the +first to applaud any tax imposed by the Government, especially when he +scented behind it a chance of securing the contract for its collection. +He always kept orchestras on hand to serenade Government officials of +all grades from governor to the lowest Government agent, on their +birthdays, saint’s days, or when any occasion, such as the death +of any of their relatives, or a birth in the <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb25" href="#pb25">25</a>]</span>family connection should afford a +pretext. He even went so far as to dedicate laudatory verses to his +royal patrons on these occasions, thus honoring the “suave and +loving governor” or the “valiant and mighty +alcalde.”</p> + +<p>The Captain was a petty governor or <i>gobernadorcillo</i> of a rich +colony of <i>mestizos</i>, in spite of the protests of many who +considered him unfit for the position. He held the office for two +years, but during this time he wore out ten frock coats, about the same +number of high hats, and lost more than a half dozen of <i> +gobernadorcillo</i> canes. His high hat and frock coat were always in +evidence in the city hall, at the Government palace in +Melacañan<a class="noteref" id="xd0e995src" href= +"#xd0e995">1</a> and at the army headquarters, and they always +appeared, too, in the cock-pit, in the market, in all processions, and +in the Chinese shops. Dressed in this official costume with the +tasseled cane, Captain Tiago was to be found everywhere, arranging, +ordering, and putting in disorder, everything with which he had +anything to do—and all with wonderful activity and with still +more wonderful gravity.</p> + +<p>Sacrilegious people called him a fool; poor people called him a +hypocrite, a cruel man who gained a livelihood by making others +miserable; while his inferiors looked upon him as a despot and a +tyrant. And the women? Ah, the women! Slanderous rumors circulated in +the wretched <i>nipa</i> houses, and it was claimed that often +lamentations and sobs, mingled with the cries of a child, could be +heard. More than one young girl was pointed out by the malicious finger +of the neighbors, with the remark: “See what a different +expression she wears, and how plainly she shows evidences of her +shame.” But such things as these never robbed the Captain of any +sleep; no young girl disturbed his rest.</p> + +<p>Such was the Captain at that time. His past history was as follows: +He was the only son of a very wealthy but avaricious sugar manufacturer +of Malabon, who was unwilling to spend a cent in his education. For +this reason young Santiago became the servant of a good Dominican, a +very virtuous man, who tried to teach him all the valuable knowledge +which he possessed. About the time when he was to have the happiness of +studying logic, the death <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb26" href= +"#pb26">26</a>]</span>of his protector, followed by that of his father, +put an end to his studies and from that time on he devoted himself to +business. He married a beautiful girl from Santa Cruz, who increased +his fortune and gave him a social position.</p> + +<p>Doña Pia Alba was not content with buying sugar, coffee and +indigo; she wished to sow and reap, so the young husband bought lands +in San Diego. It was in this town that he made the acquaintance and +friendship of Father Dámaso and of Don Rafael Ibarra, the +richest capitalist of the town.</p> + +<p>The lack of an heir for the first six years of his married life gave +him a great opportunity to accumulate wealth, which perhaps was a +censurable ambition. Although Doña Pia was handsome, robust and +well formed, she made her pilgrimages in vain. By advice of the +devotees of San Diego, she visited the Virgin of Cayasay in Taal; she +gave alms, and she danced in the procession before the Virgin of +Turumba in Pakil under the May sun, but it was all in vain. Finally, on +the advice of Father Dámaso, she went to Obando, and there +danced at the <i>fiesta</i> of San Pascual Bailon and asked for a son. +It is well known that in Obando there is a trinity—Our Lady of +Salambau, Santa Clara and San Pascual—which grants sons or +daughters as required. Thanks to this wise triumvirate, Doña Pia +became a mother, but like the fisherman in Macbeth, who ceased to sing +after he found a rich treasure, Doña Pia lost her gayety, became +very sad and was never seen to smile again. Every one, even to Captain +Tiago, declared that it was a pure caprice. A puerperal fever put an +end to her grief, leaving a beautiful daughter motherless. Father +Dámaso baptized the child, and, as San Pascual had not given the +son which had been asked for, the name of Maria Clara was given to it +in honor of the Virgin of Salambau and of Santa Clara. The little girl +grew up under the care of her aunt Isabel,—that good old lady +with the manners of a friar whom we met before. The little girl lived +the greater part of the time in San Diego on account of the healthful +climate, and while there Father Dámaso paid her much +attention.</p> + +<p>Maria Clara did not have the small eyes of her father. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb27" href="#pb27">27</a>]</span>Like her mother, her +eyes were large, black and shaded by long lashes, brilliant and smiling +when she was playing, but sad, deep and pensive at other times. When a +child her wavy hair was almost blond. Her nose was well formed, neither +too large nor too flat. Her mouth was small and beautifully shaped like +that of her mother, and her cheeks were set with dimples. Her skin was +like silk and as white as snow, but her fond parent found traces of the +paternity of Captain Tiago in her small and well shaped ears.</p> + +<p>Aunt Isabel attributed the child’s semi-European features to +impressions made upon Doña Pia. She remembered having seen the +mother a short time before the child was born, weeping before the image +of San Antonio. Then, too, a cousin of Captain Tiago had the same +features, the only difference being in the choice of the saints, by +which the phenomenon was explained. With her it was either the Virgin +or San Miguel. A cousin of Captain Tiago, a famous philosopher, who +knew Amat<a class="noteref" id="xd0e1020src" href="#xd0e1020">2</a> by +heart, explained it all by attributing it to the effect of the +planets.</p> + +<p>Maria Clara, the idol of all, grew up surrounded by love and smiles. +She won the favor of even the friars when she was dressed in white for +some religious procession, her long, wavy hair interwoven with flowers, +two silver or golden wings attached to the shoulders of her dress, and +holding two white doves, tied with blue ribbons, in her hand. When she +grew up, she was so full of childish mischief that Captain Tiago did +nothing but bless the saints of Obando and advise everybody to buy +handsome statues of that trinity.</p> + +<p>In tropical countries a girl becomes a woman at the age of thirteen +or fourteen years, like the plant which buds at night and blooms the +following morning. During this period of transition, so full of mystery +and romance, on the advice of the parish priest, Maria Clara entered +the religious retreat of Santa Catalina in order to receive from the +nuns a strictly religious education. She left Father Dámaso in +tears, and likewise the only friend of her childhood, Crisostomo +Ibarra. Shortly after the entrance to the convent, Ibarra went to +Europe. For seven <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb28" href= +"#pb28">28</a>]</span>long years, the girl lived under the vigilance of +the Mother Superior in the iron-grated building, shut off from any +communication with the outer world.</p> + +<p>Don Rafael and Captain Tiago, in the meantime, while Ibarra was in +Europe and Maria Clara in the convent, noticing the trend of affairs, +and at the same time having in mind their own interests, decided that +the children should be married. It is needless to say that this +agreement, which was arrived at some years after Ibarra had left for +Europe, was celebrated with equal joy by two hearts, on opposite sides +of the world and amid very different surroundings. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb29" href="#pb29">29</a>]</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e995src" id="xd0e995">1</a></span> Street in Manila.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e1020src" id="xd0e1020">2</a></span> Archbishop and author of +theological works.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id="ch5" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter V.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">An Idyl on the Azotea.<a class="noteref" id= +"xd0e1037src" href="#xd0e1037">1</a></h2> + +<p>On the morning after the dinner party, Aunt Isabel and Maria Clara +went to mass early: the former carefully carrying her glasses, so that +she might be able to read “The Anchor of Salvation” during +communion; the latter beautifully dressed, carrying her rosary of blue +beads as a bracelet. The priest had scarcely left the altar when, to +the disgust and surprise of her good aunt, who thought that her niece +was as pious and as fond of prayer as a nun, the young girl desired to +go home. After a great deal of grumbling, the old lady crossed herself +several times, and the two arose to leave. “Never mind,” +said Maria, to cut off the scolding, “the good God will pardon +me. He ought to understand the heart of a girl better than you, Aunt +Isabel.”</p> + +<p>After breakfast, Maria Clara occupied herself with some embroidery +while her aunt bustled about with a duster removing the traces of the +social event of the preceding evening. Captain Tiago was busy examining +some papers.</p> + +<p>Every noise in the street and every passing carriage made the girl +tremble with anxiety and wish that she were again back in the convent +among her friends. There, she thought, she could see him without +trembling and with perfect equanimity.</p> + +<p>“I believe, Maria, that the doctor is right,” said +Captain Tiago. “You ought to go to the provinces. You are looking +very pale and need a change of air. How does Malabon strike you, or San +Diego?”</p> + +<p>At the mere mention of the latter name, Maria Clara blushed and was +unable to speak.</p> + +<p>“Now, you and Isabel go to the convent to get your <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb30" href="#pb30">30</a>]</span>things and say +good bye to your friends,” continued the Captain, without raising +his head. “You will not return there. And in four or five days, +when your clothes are ready we shall go to Malabon. —Your +godfather, by the way, is not in San Diego at present. The priest whom +you saw here last night, that young fellow, is now the priest in the +town. He is a saint.”</p> + +<p>“I think you will find San Diego better, cousin,” said +Aunt Isabel. “Our house there is better than the one in Malabon, +and besides, it is nearly time for the <i>fiesta</i> to take +place.”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara was about to embrace her aunt for these welcome words, +but just then a carriage stopped in front of the house and the young +girl suddenly turned pale.</p> + +<p>“That’s so,” said the Captain, and then, in a +changed tone, exclaimed, “Don Crisostomo!”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara let fall the work which she was holding in her hands. A +nervous trembling passed over her. Then steps were heard on the stairs +and presently a young, manly voice. And, as if this voice had some +magic power, the girl shook off her emotion, started to run, and hid +herself in the oratory. Both father and aunt had to laugh at this, and +even Ibarra heard the closing of the door behind her.</p> + +<p>Pale and panting, the girl finally subdued her emotion and began to +listen. She could hear his voice, that voice which for so long a time +she had heard only in her dreams. Beside herself with joy, she kissed +the nearest saint, which, by the way, happened to be San Antonio, the +abbot. Happy saint! Whether alive or carved in wood, always tempted in +the most charming manner! Becoming quite herself again, she looked +about for some crack through which she might get a peep at the young +man. Finally, when he came in range of the key-hole and she again saw +his fine features, her face beamed with smiles. In fact, the sight +filled her with such joy that when her aunt came to call her, Maria +Clara fell on the old lady’s neck and kissed her repeatedly.</p> + +<p>“You goose! What is the matter with you?” the old lady +was finally able to ask, after wiping away her tears. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb31" href="#pb31">31</a>]</span></p> + +<p>Maria Clara, in her modesty, covered her face with her round +arm.</p> + +<p>“Come! Hurry up and get yourself ready!” said the old +lady in an affectionate tone. “While he is talking with your +father about you—— Come, do not waste time!”</p> + +<p>The girl did not respond, but allowed herself to be picked up like a +child and carried to her room.</p> + +<p>Captain Tiago and Ibarra were talking earnestly when at last Aunt +Isabel appeared, half dragging her niece by the hand. At first the girl +looked in every direction but at the persons present. At last, however, +her eyes met Ibarra’s.</p> + +<p>The conversation of the young lovers was at first confined to the +usual trifling remarks, those pleasant little things which, like the +boasts of European nations, are enjoyable and interesting to those who +are concerned and understand them, but ridiculous to outsiders.</p> + +<p>Finally, she, like all sisters of Cain, was moved by jealously and +asked: “Have you always thought of me? Have you never forgotten +me in your many travels among so many great cities and among such +beautiful women?”</p> + +<p>And he, a true brother of Cain, dodged the issue, and, being +something of a diplomat, answered: “Could I forget you?” +And then, gazing into her deep, dark eyes, “Could I break a +sacred vow? Do you remember that stormy night when you, seeing me in +tears beside my dead mother, came to me and placed your hand—that +hand which I have not touched for so long—upon my shoulder, and +said: ‘You have lost your mother,—I never had one.’ +And then you wept with me. You loved my mother, and she loved you as +only a mother can love a daughter. It was raining then, you will +remember, and the lightning flashed, but I seemed to hear music and to +see a smile on the face of my dead mother.—O, if my parents were +only living and could see you now!—That night I took your hand +and, joining it with my mother’s, I swore always to love you and +make you happy, no matter what fate Heaven might have in store for me. +I have never regretted that vow, and now renew it.” <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb32" href="#pb32">32</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Since the day that I bade you good-bye and entered the +convent,” she answered, smiling, “I have always remembered +you, and have never forgotten you in spite of the commands of my +confessor, who imposed severe penances on me. I remembered the little +games we used to play together and our little quarrels. When we were +children you used to find in the river the most beautiful shells for +our games of <i>siklot</i> and the finest and most beautifully colored +stones for our game of <i>sinkat</i>. You were always very slow and +stupid and lost, but you always paid the forfeit, which I gave you with +the palm of my hand. But I always tried to strike lightly, for I was +sorry for you. You always cheated, even more than I, in the game of <i> +chouka</i> and we generally quarrelled over it. Do you remember that +time when you really became angry? Then you made me suffer, but when I +found that I had no one to quarrel with, we made peace immediately. We +were still children when we went with your mother one day to bathe in +the stream under the shade of the reeds. Many flowers and plants grew +on the bank of the river, and you used to tell me their strange Latin +and Spanish names, for you were then studying at the Athenæum. I +paid little attention, but amused myself by chasing butterflies and in +trying to catch the little fish which slipped away from me so easily +among the rocks and weeds of the shore. You suddenly disappeared from +sight, but when you returned you brought a wreath of orange flowers and +placed it on my head. On our way home, as the sun was hot, I collected +some sage leaves from the side of the road for you to put into your hat +and thus prevent headache. Then you laughed, we made up, and came the +remainder of the way home hand in hand.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra smiled as he listened attentively to every detail of the +story. Opening his pocket book, he took out a paper in which he had +wrapped some withered but fragrant sage leaves. “Your sage +leaves,” said he in answer to her questioning glance. “The +only thing you have ever given me.”</p> + +<p>She, in turn, drew a little, white satin bag from the bosom of her +dress. “Stop!” she said, tapping his hand <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb33" href="#pb33">33</a>]</span>with her own. +“You must not touch it; it is a letter of farewell.”</p> + +<p>“The one that I wrote you before leaving?”</p> + +<p>“My dear sir, have you ever written any other?”</p> + +<p>“And what did I say then?”</p> + +<p>“Many falsehoods; excuses of a bad debtor,” replied she, +smiling and showing how agreeable these falsehoods had been to her. +“But be quiet! I will read it to you, but I will omit your polite +speeches out of consideration for your feelings.”</p> + +<p>Raising the paper to the height of her eyes, in order to conceal her +face, she began. “‘My——,’ I shall not +read you what follows that, for it is not true.” She ran her eyes +over some lines and began to read again: “‘My father wishes +me to go away, in spite of my entreaties. He says that I am a man and +must think of my future and my duty; that I must learn how to live, +which I cannot do in my own country, so that in the future I may be of +some use. He says that if I remain at his side, in his shadow, in this +atmosphere of business, I will never learn how to look ahead, and that +when he is gone, I shall be like the plant of which our poet Baltazar +speaks—as it always lives in the water, it never learns how to +endure a moment’s heat.—He reproached me because I wept, +and his reproach hurt me so that I confessed that I loved you. My +father stopped, thought a moment and, placing his hand on my shoulder, +said in a trembling voice: “Do you think that you alone know how +to love, that your father does not love you, and that his heart is not +pained at being separated from you? It is a short time since your +mother died, and I am already reaching that age when the help and +counsel of youth are needed. And yet I consent to your going, not even +knowing that I shall ever see you again. The future is opening to you, +but closing to me. Your loves are being born; mine are dying. Fire +blazes in your blood, but cold is gradually finding its way into mine. +And yet you weep, and are not willing to sacrifice the present for a +future useful to yourself and your country.” The eyes of my +father filled with tears and I fell upon my <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb34" href="#pb34">34</a>]</span>knees at his feet and embraced +him. I asked his pardon and said that I was willing to +go.’”</p> + +<p>The emotion which Ibarra manifested put an end to the reading. As +pale as death, he arose and began to walk nervously from one side to +the other.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“You have made me forget that I have duties to perform, and +that I ought to leave immediately for my town. To-morrow is the <i> +fiesta</i> in memory of the dead.”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara stopped and silently fixed her large and dreamy eyes +upon him for some minutes. Then taking some flowers from a vase near +by, she said with emotion: “Go! I do not wish to detain you. We +shall see each other again in a few days. Place these flowers on the +graves of your father and mother.”</p> + +<p>A few moments later, Ibarra descended the stairs, accompanied by +Captain Tiago and Doña Isabel, while Maria Clara locked herself +up in the oratory.</p> + +<p>“Do me the favor to tell Andeng to get the house ready, and +that Maria and Isabel are coming. A pleasant journey!” While the +Captain was saying this, Ibarra got into the carriage and drove off in +the direction of the Plaza of San Gabriel.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later the Captain shouted to Maria Clara, who was +weeping by the side of the image of the Virgin: “Hurry up and +light two <i>peseta</i> candles in honor of San Roque and another in +honor of San Rafael, the patron saint of travellers. And light the lamp +of Our Lady of Peace and Protector of Travellers, for there are many +bandits about. It is better to spend four <i>reales</i> for wax and six +<i>cuartos</i> for oil than to have to pay a big ransom later +on.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb35" href= +"#pb35">35</a>]</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e1037src" id="xd0e1037">1</a></span> Roof of the first story used +as a veranda.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id="ch6" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter VI.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Things Philippine.</h2> + +<p>Father Dámaso drove up in front of Captain Tiago’s +house and the Franciscan stepped to the ground just as Aunt Isabel and +Maria Clara were getting into their silver-trimmed carriage. They +saluted Father Dámaso, and he, in his preoccupation, gently +patted Maria Clara on the cheek.</p> + +<p>“Where are you going?” the friar asked.</p> + +<p>“To the convent to get my things,” replied the +younger.</p> + +<p>“Ah, ha! Ah, ha! We’ll see who is the stronger. +We’ll see!” he muttered and turned away, leaving the two +women in wonder as to what it all meant. The friar stepped along +lightly, and reaching the stairs, went up.</p> + +<p>“He must be studying his sermon,” said Isabel. +“Get in, Maria; we shall be late.”</p> + +<p>Whether Father Dámaso was studying his sermon or not we +cannot say. At any rate, he was absorbed in some important matter, for +he even forgot to extend his hand to Captain Tiago upon entering, +greatly to the embarrassment of the Captain, who had to feign kissing +it.</p> + +<p>“Santiago, we have some very important matters to talk over; +let us go to your office.”</p> + +<p>The Captain, somewhat disturbed, was unable to reply, but he obeyed +and followed the big priest into his office. Father Dámaso shut +the door behind them.</p> + +<p>While they are conferring in secret, let us find out what has become +of Brother Sibyla. The wise Dominican was not to be found at his +parochial residence, for early, immediately after mass, he had gone to +the Dominican convent, situated near the gate called Isabel the Second +or Magallanes, according to which family is in power in Madrid. Paying +no attention to the delicious odor of chocolate or to the rattling of +money boxes and coins in <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb36" href= +"#pb36">36</a>]</span>the treasurer’s office, and scarcely +answering the deferential salute of the treasurer, Father Sibyla went +upstairs, crossed several corridors and rapped on a door.</p> + +<p>“Come in!” answered a voice.</p> + +<p>“May God give back health to Your Reverence!” was the +greeting of the young Dominican as he entered.</p> + +<p>A very feeble old priest was seated in a large arm-chair. His +complexion was as yellow as the saints which Revera paints; his eyes +were sunk deep in their orbits, and his heavy eyebrows, which were +nearly always knit in a frown, added to the brilliant glare of his +death-foreboding eyes.</p> + +<p>“I have come to talk to you about the charge with which you +have entrusted me,” said Father <span class="corr" id="xd0e1173" +title="Source: Siblya">Sibyla</span>.</p> + +<p>“Ah, yes. And what about it?”</p> + +<p>“Pshaw!” answered the young man with disgust, seating +himself and turning his face away with disdain. “They have been +telling us a lot of lies. Young Ibarra is a prudent boy. He does not +seem to be a fool. I think he is a pretty good sort of a +chap.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think so?”</p> + +<p>“Hostilities began last night.”</p> + +<p>“So soon? And how did it come about?”</p> + +<p>Father Sibyla related briefly what had taken place between Father +Dámaso and Crisostomo Ibarra.</p> + +<p>“Furthermore,” he added, in conclusion, “the young +man is going to marry that daughter of Captain Tiago, who was educated +in the college of our sisters. He is rich and would not want to make +any enemies who might cause the loss of his happiness and his +fortune.”</p> + +<p>The sick man bowed his head as a sign of assent. “Yes, that is +my opinion. With such a wife and such a father-in-law we can hold him +body and soul. And if not, it will be all the better for us if he +declares himself our enemy.”</p> + +<p>Father Sibyla looked at the old man with surprise.</p> + +<p>“That is to say, for the good of our whole corporation,” +he added, breathing with difficulty. “I prefer open attacks to +the foolish praise and adulations of friends, for, the truth is, +flattery is always paid for.”</p> + +<p>“Does Your Reverence think so?”</p> + +<p>The old man looked at him sadly. “Always bear this in +mind,” he answered, panting with fatigue, “that our <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb37" href="#pb37">37</a>]</span>power will +endure as long as it is believed in. If they attack us, the Government +says, ‘They attack them, because they see in them an obstacle to +their liberty, therefore let us preserve them.’”</p> + +<p>“And if the Government gives them a hearing? Sometimes the +Government——”</p> + +<p>“The Government will do no such thing.”</p> + +<p>“Nevertheless, if some bold and reckless man, impelled by +covetousness, should dare to think that he wanted our +possessions——”</p> + +<p>“Then, woe to him!”</p> + +<p>For a moment both remained silent.</p> + +<p>“Furthermore,” continued the sick man, “it will do +us good to have them attack us and wake us up. It would show us our +weaknesses and strengthen us. The exaggerated praises which we get +deceive us, and put us asleep. We are becoming ridiculous and on the +day that we become ridiculous we shall fall as we fell in Europe. Money +will no longer flow into our churches, no one will longer buy our +scapularies or girdles, and when we cease to be rich we shall no longer +possess the great influence which we wield at present.”</p> + +<p>“Pshaw! We shall always have our property, our +plantations——”</p> + +<p>“We shall lose them all as we lost them in Europe. And the +worst of it is that we are working for our own ruin. For instance, this +immeasurable ambition to raise the incomes from our lands each year, +this eagerness to increase the rents, which I have always opposed in +vain, this eagerness will be our ruin. The natives already find +themselves forced to buy land in other localities if they want lands as +good as ours. I fear that we are degenerating. ‘Whom the gods +would destroy they first make mad.’ For this reason we should not +be too hard on the people, for they are already grumbling under our +exactions. You have considered well. Let us leave this thing to others, +and keep up the prestige which we have and let us endeavor to appear +before God with clean hands. May the God of pity have mercy on our +weaknesses!”</p> + +<p>“So you believe that the tax or +tribute——”</p> + +<p>“Let us talk no more of money!” interrupted the sick +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb38" href="#pb38">38</a>]</span>man with +disgust. “You were saying that the lieutenant and Father +Dámaso last night——”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Father,” answered the young priest smiling. +“But this morning I saw the lieutenant again and he told me that +he was sorry for what had occurred at the dinner. He said he thought +that he had been affected by too much wine and that the same was true +of Father Dámaso. ‘And your boast to tell the +Governor?’ I asked jokingly. ‘Father,’ he answered, +‘I know when to make my word good so long as it does not stain my +honor. That is just the reason why I wear only two +stars.’”</p> + +<p>After talking over several minor matters, Father Sibyla took his +leave.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact the lieutenant had not gone to the Governor +General’s palace in Melacañan with any report in regard to +the occurrence of the preceding evening. However, the Governor General +had learned of it through another source, and discussing the matter +with one of his aides, he said:</p> + +<p>“A woman and a priest can give no offense. I intend to live +peaceably while I remain in this country and I do not wish to have any +trouble with men who wear skirts. And, furthermore, I have found out +that the Father Provincial has evaded my orders in this matter. I asked +for the removal of that friar as a punishment. What was done? They +removed him, but they gave him another and much better town. +‘Tricks of the friars,’ as they say in Spain.”</p> + +<p>But when His Excellency found himself alone he ceased to smile. +“Ah!” he sighed, “if the people were not so stupid +they would put a limit to their reverences. But every people deserves +its fate, and we are no different in this respect from the rest of the +world.”</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Captain Tiago had concluded his conference with Father +Dámaso, or rather Father Dámaso had concluded it.</p> + +<p>“I have already warned you!” said the Franciscan on +taking his leave. “You could have avoided all of this had you +consulted with me before, and, if you had not lied to me, when I asked +you about it. See to it that you do not <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb39" href="#pb39">39</a>]</span>do any more such foolish things, and +have faith in your godfather.”</p> + +<p>Captain Tiago took two or three steps towards the <i>sala</i>, +meditating and sighing. All at once, as if some good idea had struck +him, he ran to the oratory and put out the candles and the lamps which +had been lighted for Ibarra’s protection.</p> + +<p>“There is still time enough,” he murmured, “for he +has a long road to travel.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb40" +href="#pb40">40</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch7" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter VII.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">San Diego and Its People.</h2> + +<p>Not far from the shores of the Laguna de Bay lies the town of San +Diego, surrounded by fertile fields and rice plantations. It exports +sugar, rice, coffee, and fruits, or sells them at ridiculously low +prices to the Chinese, who make large profits out of the credulity and +vices of the laborers.</p> + +<p>When the sky was serene and the atmosphere clear, the boys used to +climb to the very peak of the old moss and vine covered church tower. +And what exclamations they would utter when, from that high pinnacle, +they looked out at the beautiful panorama that surrounded them. There +before them lay a great mass of roofs, some <i>nipa</i>, some thatch, +some zinc and some made out of the native grasses. And out of that +mass, which here and there gave way to an orchard or a garden, every +one of those boys could find his own little home, his own little nest. +To them everything was a landmark; every tamarind tree with its light +foliage, every cocoanut tree with its load of nuts, every bending cane, +every <i>bonga</i> tree, every cross. Beyond the town is the crystal +river, like a serpent asleep on a carpet of green. Here and there, its +tranquil surface is broken by rocks projecting from its sandy bottom. +In places, it is hemmed in between two high banks, and there the +rapidly rushing waters turn and twist the half-bared roots of the +overhanging shade trees. But further on it spreads itself out again and +becomes calm and peaceful.</p> + +<p>But what always attracts attention is a peninsula of forest +projecting into this sea of cultivated land. There can be found +hollow-trunked trees, a century old, trees which die only when struck +by lightning and set on fire. They say, also, that even in that case +the fire never spreads to any other tree. This old grove is held in a +certain degree of awe, for around it have been woven many strange <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb41" href="#pb41">41</a>]</span>legends. Of +these the most probable, and consequently the least known and believed +is the following:</p> + +<p>When the town was still a miserable group of huts, when weeds grew +in abundance in the so-called streets, and deer and wild boar roamed +about at night, there arrived one day an old Spaniard. His eyes were +deep and thoughtful and he spoke Tagalog fluently. After visiting the +different estates and peddling out some goods he inquired for the +owners of this grove, which by the way, also contained several hot +water springs. A number of persons claiming to be the owners presented +themselves, and the old man purchased from them the grove, paying in +exchange some money, jewelry and clothing. A short time afterward he +disappeared, no one knew where.</p> + +<p>His sudden disappearance made the people think for a time that he +had been spirited away, but later on a fetid odor was noticeable near +the grove, and some shepherds, upon investigation, found the body of +the old man in a badly decomposed condition hanging from the limb of a +<i>balitî</i> tree. When alive the old man had terrorized many by +his deep and resonant voice, his sunken eyes and his silent laugh, but +now that he was dead, and a suicide at that, the mere mention of his +name gave the town women nightmare. Some of them threw the jewelry that +they had bought from him into the river and burned all the clothing, +and, for a long time after the body had been buried at the foot of the +<i>balitî</i> tree, no one cared to venture near it. All sort of +stories became current about the haunted place.</p> + +<p>A shepherd, looking for his flock, said that he had seen lights in +the grove. A party of young men, passing near the place, heard groans +and lamentations. An unfortunate lover, in order to make an impression +on the disdainful object of his affections, promised to spend a night +under the tree and to bring her a branch from its trunk, but on the +next day he was taken ill with a quick fever and died.</p> + +<p>Before many months had passed, a youth came to the town one day. He +was apparently a Spanish <i>mestizo</i>, declared himself the son of +the dead stranger, and established himself in that far-off corner of +the world. He began to farm the land and devoted himself especially to +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb42" href="#pb42">42</a>]</span>the +cultivation of indigo. Don Saturnino was a taciturn young man, violent +and sometimes cruel, but very active and industrious. He built a wall +around his father’s grave and, from time to time, went all alone +to visit it. A few years later he married a young girl from Manila who +bore him a son, Rafael, the father of Crisostomo.</p> + +<p>Don Rafael, from his earliest youth, was fond of farming. Under his +care, the agriculture which had been started and fostered by his father +was rapidly developed. New inhabitants flocked to the vicinity, and +among them were a great many Chinese. The village grew very fast and +was soon supporting a native priest. After it had become a <i> +pueblo</i>, the native priest died and Father Dámaso took his +place.</p> + +<p>Still the grave and the adjoining lands were respected. At times, +children, armed with sticks and stones, ventured to wander about, +exploring the surrounding country and gathering <i>guayabas</i>, <i> +papays</i>, <i>lomboy</i> and other native fruits. Then, all of a +sudden, while they were busily engaged collecting the fruits, some one +would catch a glimpse of the old rope hanging from the <i> +balitî</i> tree, and stones would be heard to fall. Then some one +would cry, “The old man!” “The old man!” +Dropping fruit, sticks and stones, and leaping from the trees, the boys +would flee in all directions through the thickets and between the +rocks, not stopping until they emerged from the grove, pale and +panting, some laughing, some crying.</p> + +<p>You could not say that Don Rafael, while alive, was the most +influential man in San Diego, although it is true that he was the +richest, owned the most land, and had put almost everybody else under +obligations to him. He was modest and always belittled his own deeds. +He never tried to form a party of his own, and, as we have already +seen, no one came to his aid when his fortune seemed to fail him.</p> + +<p>Whenever Captain Tiago arrived in town, his debtors received him +with an orchestra, gave him a banquet, and loaded him down with gifts. +If a deer or a wild boar was caught he always had a quarter of it for +his own table; if any of his debtors found a beautiful horse, within a +half hour it would be in the Captain’s stable. All of this is +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb43" href="#pb43">43</a>]</span>true, +but still when the Captain had his back turned they made fun of him and +referred to him as Sacristan Tiago.</p> + +<p>The <i>gobernadorcillo</i><a class="noteref" id="xd0e1315src" href= +"#xd0e1315">1</a> was an unhappy fellow who never commanded but always +obeyed; he never attacked any one, but was always attacked; he never +ordered anybody, but everybody ordered him; and besides, he had to take +the responsibility for everything that they had commanded, ordered or +disposed. The position had cost him five thousand <i>pesos</i> and many +humiliations, but, considering the profits he made, the price was very +cheap.</p> + +<p>San Diego was like Rome; not the Rome of the time of Romulus, when +he marked out the walls with a plough, nor when, later, he bathed in +his own blood and that of others and dictated laws to the world: no, +San Diego was like the Rome of contemporaneous history, with this +difference—instead of being a city of marble, monuments and +coliseums, it was a city of <i>saualî</i><a class="noteref" id= +"xd0e1325src" href="#xd0e1325">2</a> and cock-pits. The parochial +priest of San Diego corresponded to the Pope in the Vatican; the <i> +alferez</i><a class="noteref" id="xd0e1330src" href="#xd0e1330">3</a> +of the Civil Guard to the King of Italy in the Quirinal, but both in +the same proportion as the <i>sauali</i> or native wood and the <i> +nipa</i> cock-pits corresponded to the monuments of marble and +coliseums. And in San Diego, as in Rome, there was continual trouble. +Everybody wanted to be the leading señor, and there was always +some one else in the way. Let us describe two of these ambitious +citizens.</p> + +<p>Friar Bernando Salvi was the young and silent Franciscan whom we +mentioned in a preceding chapter. He had even more of the customs and +manners of his brotherhood than had his predecessor, the violent Father +Dámaso. He was slender, sickly, almost always pensive, and very +strict in the fulfillment of his religious duties as well as very +careful of his good name. A month after his arrival in the parish +almost all the inhabitants became brothers of the “Venerable +Third Order,” to the great grief of its rival, “The +Brotherhood of the Most Sacred Rosary.” His heart leaped with joy +at seeing on every neck in the town <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb44" +href="#pb44">44</a>]</span>from four to five scapularies, a knotted +cord around every waist, and every funeral procession dressed in habits +of <i>guingon</i>. The sacristan mayor or head warden of the order made +quite a little capital by selling and giving away all those things +considered necessary to save the soul and overcome the devil.</p> + +<p>The only enemy of this powerful soul saver, with tendencies in +accord with the times, was, as we have already stated, the <i> +alferez</i>. The women relate a story of how the devil tried one day to +tempt Father Salvi and how the latter caught him, tied him to the bed +post, whipped him with a lash and kept him tied fast for nine days. +Thus he had been able to conquer the devil entirely. As a result, any +one who persisted in being an enemy of the priest was generally +considered a worse man than the devil himself—an honor which the +<i>alferez</i> alone enjoyed. But he merited this reputation. He had a +wife, an old, powdered and painted Filipino by the name of Doña +Consolación. The husband and several other people called her by +a different name, but that does not matter. Anyway, the <i>alferez</i> +was accustomed to drown the sorrows of unhappy wedlock by getting as +drunk as a toper. Then, when he was thoroughly intoxicated he would +order his men to drill in the sun, he himself remaining in the shade, +or, perhaps, he would occupy himself in beating his wife.</p> + +<p>When her husband was dead drunk, or was snoring away in a siesta, +and Doña Consolación could not fight with him, then, +wearing a blue flannel shirt, she would seat herself in the window, +with a cigar in her mouth. She had a dislike of children and so from +her window she would scowl and make faces at every girl that passed. +The girls, on the other hand, were afraid of her, and would hurry by at +a quick pace, never daring to raise their eyes or draw a breath. But +say what you may, Doña Consolación had one great virtue; +she was never known to look into a mirror.</p> + +<p>These were the leading people of San Diego.</p> + +<p>Toward the west of San Diego, surrounded by rice fields, lies a +village of the dead. A single, narrow path, dusty on dry days, and +navigable by boats when it rains, leads thither from the town. A wooden +gate, and a fence, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb45" href= +"#pb45">45</a>]</span>half stone and half bamboo, seem to separate the +cemetery from the people in the town, but not from the goats and sheep +of the parochial priest of the immediate vicinity. These animals go in +and out to rummage among the tombs or to make that solitary place glad +with their presence.</p> + +<p>One day a little old man entered the cemetery, his eyes sparkling +and his head uncovered. Upon seeing him, many laughed, while a number +of the women knit their eyebrows in scorn. The old man seemed to take +no notice of these manifestations, but went directly toward a pile of +skulls, knelt down and began to search among the bones. After he had +sorted over with considerable care the skulls one by one, he drew his +eyebrows together, as though he did not find what he was looking for, +moved his head from side to side, looked in all directions, and finally +got up and went over toward a grave-digger.</p> + +<p>“Eh, there!” he shouted to him.</p> + +<p>The grave-digger raised his head.</p> + +<p>“Do you know where that beautiful skull is, the one white as +the meat of a cocoanut, with a complete set of teeth, which I had over +there at the foot of the cross under those leaves?”</p> + +<p>The grave-digger shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Look you!” added the little old man, bringing out of +his pocket a handful of silver. “I have more than that, but I +will give it to you if you find the skull for me.”</p> + +<p>The glitter of the coin made the grave-digger reflect. He looked +over in the direction of the bone pile and said: “Isn’t it +over there? No? Then I don’t know where it is.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know? When my debtors pay me, I will give you +more,” continued the old man. “It was my wife’s +skull, and if you find it for me——”</p> + +<p>“Isn’t it there. Then I don’t know where it +is,” repeated the grave-digger with emphasis. “But I will +give you another.”</p> + +<p>“You are like the grave that you are digging,” cried the +old man irritably. “You don’t know the value of what you +lose. For whom is this grave?”</p> + +<p>“For a dead person, of course,” replied the bad-humored +man. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb46" href= +"#pb46">46</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Like a tomb! Like a tomb!” repeated the old man dryly. +“You don’t know what you throw out nor what you swallow. +Dig! dig!”</p> + +<p>At this the old man, who was Tasio, the village philosopher, turned +and started toward the gate.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, the grave-digger had finished his job, and two +little mounds of fresh, red clay were piled on either side of the +grave. He took some betel nut out of his broad-brimmed hat, and began +to chew away, looking with an air of stupidity at everything within his +horizon. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb47" href= +"#pb47">47</a>]</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e1315src" id="xd0e1315">1</a></span> Petty governor, the highest +local official.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e1325src" id="xd0e1325">2</a></span> Trellis work made of +reeds.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e1330src" id="xd0e1330">3</a></span> Local commander of the Civil +Guard.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id="ch8" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter VIII.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Ibarra and the Grave-Digger.</h2> + +<p>Just as the old man was leaving the cemetery, a carriage stopped at +the entrance. It looked as though it had made a long journey; the +horses were sweating and the vehicle was covered with dust. Ibarra +stepped out and was followed by an old servant. He made a gesture to +the driver and then turned down the path into the cemetery. He was +silent and grave.</p> + +<p>“My sickness and my work have not permitted me to return, +since the day of the funeral,” said the old servant timidly. +“Captain Tiago said that he would see to it that a niche was +arranged for, but I planted some flowers on the grave and erected a +cross made by my own hands.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra did not reply.</p> + +<p>“Right there behind that large cross, señor,” +continued the servant, making a gesture toward one of the corners just +as they passed through the gate.</p> + +<p>Ibarra was so preoccupied with sad thoughts that he did not notice +the astonishment which some of the people in the cemetery manifested +when they saw him enter. Those who were kneeling broke off their +prayers and followed the young man, their eyes full of curiosity.</p> + +<p>Ibarra walked along very carefully, and avoided stepping on the +graves, which could be easily distinguished by the sunken ground. In +other times he had walked over them; but to-day he respected them. His +father lay in one of them. On coming to the other side of the large +cross, he stopped and looked in all directions. His companion was +confused and out of countenance. He searched for marks on the ground +but could not find the cross anywhere.</p> + +<p>“Is it here?” he murmured between his teeth. “No, +it is over there, but the earth has been removed.” <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb48" href="#pb48">48</a>]</span></p> + +<p>Ibarra looked at him with an expression of anguish.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” he continued. “I remember that there was a +stone by the side of the grave. The grave was a little short, a farm +hand had to dig it, as the grave-digger was sick at the time, but we +will ask him what he has done with the cross.”</p> + +<p>They turned toward the grave-digger, who looked at them with +curiosity. He saluted them, taking off his hat.</p> + +<p>“Can you tell us which of the graves over there is the one +which had a cross?” asked the servant.</p> + +<p>The grave-digger looked toward the place and seemed to reflect. +“A large cross?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, a large cross,” answered the old man with joy, +looking significantly at Ibarra, whose face was somewhat animated.</p> + +<p>“An ornamented cross, and fastened with reeds?” repeated +the grave-digger, questioning the servant.</p> + +<p>“That’s it, that’s it, yes, yes! Like this, like +this,” and the servant traced an outline of a Byzantine +cross.</p> + +<p>“And were there some flowers sown on the grave?”</p> + +<p>“<i>Adelphas</i>, <i>sampagas</i> and pansies! That’s +it,” added the servant, delighted, and offering the grave-digger +a cigar. “Tell us where the grave is and where the +cross.”</p> + +<p>The grave-digger scratched his ear and replied, yawning: +“Well, the cross—I have already burned it up.”</p> + +<p>“Burned it? and why have you burned it?”</p> + +<p>“Because the head priest so ordered.”</p> + +<p>“Who is the head priest?” asked Ibarra.</p> + +<p>“Who? The one who does the whipping.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra put his hand to his head.</p> + +<p>“But you can at least tell us where the grave is? You ought to +remember.”</p> + +<p>The grave-digger smiled. “The body is no longer there,” +he replied tranquilly.</p> + +<p>“What do you say?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, no longer,” the man added in a joking tone. +“Only a week ago I buried a woman in its place.”</p> + +<p>“Are you crazy?” the servant asked. “Why, it is +not yet a year since we buried him.” <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb49" href="#pb49">49</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Then that is the one, for it was many months ago that I took +up the body. The head priest of the parish ordered me to do it, in +order to bury it in the Chinese cemetery. But as it was heavy and it +was raining that night——”</p> + +<p>The man could not finish. He stepped back, half frightened at the +expression on Crisostomo’s face. Ibarra made a rush at him, and, +grabbing him by the arm, shook him.</p> + +<p>“And what did you do?” the young man asked, in an +indescribable tone.</p> + +<p>“Honored sir, do not get angry,” he replied, pale and +trembling. “I did not bury the body among the Chinese. In my +opinion a person might better be a suicide than be buried among the +Chinese. I threw the body into the lake.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra laid both his hands on the man’s shoulders and looked +at him for a long time in a terrifying manner. “You are only an +unfortunate fellow,” he said, at last, and left the place on a +run across bones, graves, and crosses, like a madman.</p> + +<p>The grave-digger felt of his arm and murmured: “What would +they do with the dead! The head priest whips me with his cane for +having left the body in the cemetery when I was sick. Now this fellow +comes along and nearly breaks my arm for having taken it up. That is +just like the Spaniards! I’ll lose my place yet.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra went on in great haste, keeping his eyes fixed in the +distance. The old servant followed him, crying. Already the sun was +hidden; a large, dark cloud hung over the western horizon; and a dry +wind bent the tops of the trees and made the fields of sugar cane +groan. With hat in hand, he went on. Not one tear dropped from his eye, +not one sigh came from his breast. He hurried on as if he were fleeing +from somebody, or something—perhaps the shade of his father, +perhaps the tempest which was approaching. He hurried through the town +and headed toward the outlying country, toward that old house which he +had not entered for so many years. The house was surrounded by a wall, +near which many cacti grew, and as he approached they seemed to <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb50" href="#pb50">50</a>]</span>signal to him. +The windows seemed to open, the <i>ilang-ilang</i> joyfully waved its +branches, and the doves fluttered about the little tower on the peak of +their garden house.</p> + +<p>But the young man did not notice these signs of welcome on his +return to his old home. His eyes were riveted on the form of a priest +who was advancing from the opposite direction. It was the priest of San +Diego, that meditative Franciscan, the enemy of the <i>alferez</i> whom +we have mentioned. The wind was playing with the wide wings of his hat, +and the robe of <i>guingon</i> was flattened out, moulded by the wind +to the outline of his form, marking his slender thighs and bow-legs. In +his right hand he carried a cane. It was the first time that he and +Ibarra had met.</p> + +<p>As they approached each other, the young man stopped and looked at +him fixedly. Father Salvi avoided the look and was somewhat distracted. +This vacillation lasted only a moment. Ibarra made a rush toward him, +and stopped the priest from falling only by grasping his shoulder. +Then, in a voice scarcely intelligible, he exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“What have you done with my father?”</p> + +<p>Friar Salvi, pale and trembling, as he read the unmistakable +sentiments which were depicted on the young man’s face, could not +reply.</p> + +<p>“What have you done with my father?” he asked again, his +voice almost choking him.</p> + +<p>The priest, shrinking from the tight grasp of Ibarra’s hand, +at last made a great effort and said: “You are mistaken. I have +done nothing with your father.”</p> + +<p>“What? No?” continued the young man, the weight of his +hand on the priest’s shoulder almost making him kneel.</p> + +<p>“No, I assure you. It was my predecessor. It was Father +Dámaso——”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” exclaimed the young man, throwing the priest down +and giving him a slap in the face. And leaving Father Salvi, he turned +quickly and went toward the house. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb51" +href="#pb51">51</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch9" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter IX.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Adventures of a School Teacher.</h2> + +<p>Laguna de Bay, surrounded by mountains, sleeps tranquilly in the +stillness of the elements, as if it had not joined the chorus of the +tempest on the night before. As first rays of dawn appear in the +eastern sky and awaken the phosphorescent myriads in the water, long, +grey shadows appear in the dim distance, almost on the border of the +horizon. They are shadows of fishermen’s boats at work drawing in +the nets.</p> + +<p>Two men, dressed in deep mourning, from a lofty height contemplate +the scene in silence. One is Ibarra, and the other is a young, +meek-looking man with a melancholy countenance.</p> + +<p>“Here is the place!” said the latter. “Here is +where your father’s body was thrown into the water! The +grave-digger brought Lieutenant Guevara and me here and pointed out the +spot.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra, with emotion, warmly grasped the young man’s hand.</p> + +<p>“You need not thank me!” replied the latter. “I +owed your father for many favors he did me. The only thing I could ever +do for him was to accompany his body to the grave. I had come to the +town without knowing anybody, without any recommendations, without a +reputation, without money, just as I am now. Your father protected me, +procured a house for me, helped secure whatever was needed to advance +education; he used to come to the school and distribute pennies among +the poor and diligent pupils; he provided them with books and papers. +But that, like all good things, did not last long.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra took off his hat and seemed to pray for a short time. Then he +turned to his companion and said: “Did <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb52" href="#pb52">52</a>]</span>you tell me that my father used to +help the poor children<span class="corr" id="xd0e1527" title="Source: +.">?</span> How is it now?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, now they do the best they can.”</p> + +<p>“And don’t they come to school regularly?”</p> + +<p>“No, for their shirts are ragged and they are +ashamed.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra kept silent for a few moments.</p> + +<p>“How many pupils have you now?” he asked, with a certain +interest.</p> + +<p>“There are more than two hundred on the register, but only +twenty-five in the class.”</p> + +<p>“How does that happen?”</p> + +<p>The school teacher sadly smiled.</p> + +<p>“It is a long and tedious story,” said he.</p> + +<p>“Don’t think that I am asking out of vain +curiosity,” replied Ibarra, looking seriously at the distant +horizon. “I have been meditating a great deal on the matter, and +I believe that it is far better to try to carry out the ideas of my +father than to try to avenge him. His tomb is sacred Nature; and his +enemies were the people and the priest. I can forgive the people for +their ignorance, and as to the priest, I will pardon his character +because I wish to respect the religion which he represents. I wish to +be inspired with the spirit of the one who gave me life, and, that I +may lend my help, I wish to know what are the obstacles here in the way +of education.”</p> + +<p>“The country will bless your memory, Señor, if you can +carry out the beautiful and noble ideas of your dead father,” +said the school teacher. “You wish to know what the obstacles +are? Very well. We are now in such circumstances that unless something +powerful intervenes, there will never be any education here. First, +because there is no incentive or stimulus to the children, and, +secondly, even when there is an incentive, lack of means and many +prejudices kill it. They say that the son of a German peasant studies +eight years in the town school. Who would want to spend half of that +time in our schools, when the benefits to be derived are so small? Here +the children read, and commit to memory verses and at times entire +books in Spanish, but all without understanding a single word. What +good can <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb53" href= +"#pb53">53</a>]</span>the sons of our farmers get out of the school so +long as this is the case?”</p> + +<p>“And you see the evil; have you not thought out a +remedy?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, poor me!” replied the teacher, shaking his head, +“a poor teacher cannot alone fight against prejudices, against +existing influences. Above all, I would need to have a school house, so +that I would not, as I do now, have to teach from the priest’s +carriage, under the convent. There, when the children want to read +aloud, they naturally disturb the Father, who at times comes down and +very nervous, especially when he has his attacks, finds fault with the +children and insults me. You know very well that under such conditions +no one can do any teaching. The child does not respect the teacher from +that moment when he sees him mistreated by some one else without +maintaining his rights. The teacher, if he is to be listened to, or if +his authority is not to be doubted, needs prestige, a good name, moral +strength, and a certain amount of freedom. If you will allow me, I will +give you an illustration. I wished to introduce some reforms and they +laughed at me. In order to remedy the evil that I spoke of a moment +ago, I tried to teach the children Spanish, because, not only does the +Government order it, but because it will be a great advantage for them +to know the language. I employed the simplest method, used simple +phrases and nouns without making use of hard rules, with the +expectation of teaching them the grammar as soon as they had learned +the language. At the end of several weeks, almost all the smarter ones +in the school understood me and were able to compose phrases in +Castellano.”</p> + +<p>The teacher stopped and seemed to be in doubt. Then, as if he had +made up his mind, he began again.</p> + +<p>“I ought not to be ashamed of the history of my grievances. If +any one had been in my place, he would have had the same story to tell. +As I was saying, I began well. Several days later the priest, who was +then Father Dámaso, sent the sacristan mayor to tell me that he +wanted to see me. As I knew his character and was afraid to make him +wait for me, I went up immediately, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb54" +href="#pb54">54</a>]</span>saluted him and said good morning to him in +Spanish. As was customary, when I saluted him, I advanced to kiss the +hand which he held out, but just at that moment he withdrew it and, +without replying to me, began to chuckle scoffingly. I was naturally +disconcerted, and it was all done in the presence of the <span class= +"corr" id="xd0e1564" title="Source: sacristian">sacristan</span> mayor. +At the moment, I did not know what to say. I stood and looked at him +while he went on laughing. I had already become impatient and saw that +I was on the point of <span class="corr" id="xd0e1567" title="Source: +commiting">committing</span> an indiscretion. All of a sudden, he +stopped laughing and added insult to injury. With a cunning air, he +said to me: ‘So it is <i lang="es">buenos dias</i>, eh? <i lang= +"es">buenos dias</i>, ha, ha! How funny! Why, you know how to speak +Spanish, do you?’ And then he continued his laugh.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra could not keep back his smile.</p> + +<p>“You laugh,” replied the teacher, also smiling. “I +confess that I did not feel like smiling at that time. I felt the blood +rush to my head, and a thunderbolt seemed to dazzle my brain. I saw the +priest far off, very far from me. I started toward him to reply. The +sacristan mayor interposed and said very seriously, in Tagalog: +‘You want to stop wearing borrowed clothes. Be content to speak +in your own language and do not spoil Spanish, which is not meant for +you. You have heard about Ciruela? Well, Ciruela was a teacher who did +not know how to read, but he taught school.’ I wanted to detain +him for a moment, but he went quickly into his room and closed the door +violently. What was I to do? In order to collect my salary I have to +have the approval of the priest on my bill, and have to make a journey +to the capital of the province. What could I do to him—the moral, +political and civil authority of the town, sustained by his +corporation, feared by the Government, rich, powerful, always +consulting, advising, listening, believing and attending to +everything—what could I do to him? If he insulted me, I had to +keep my mouth closed. If I talked back, he would throw me out of work, +spoiling my career. And what good would it do—education? On the +contrary, everybody would take up the priest’s side of the +matter; they would criticise <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb55" href= +"#pb55">55</a>]</span>me, they would call me vain, proud, arrogant, a +poor Christian, poorly educated, and when not this, they would call me +an anti-Spaniard and an agitator. The school teacher should have no +authority. He should only be lazy, humble, and resigned to his low +position. May God pardon me if I do not speak conscientiously and +truthfully, but I was born in this country, I have to live, I have a +mother to support and I have to be resigned to my lot.”</p> + +<p>“And have you continued to be discouraged on account of this +trouble? Have you attempted nothing since?”</p> + +<p>“Would to God that it had ended there!” he replied. +“Would to God that that had been the end of my misfortunes. The +truth is that from that day I began to take a dislike to my profession. +Every day the school brought to my mind my disgrace and made every hour +a bitter one for me. But what could I do? I could not disappoint my +mother. I had to tell her that the three years of sacrifices which she +had made for me in order that I might learn the profession now made me +happy. I had to make her believe that the profession was a most +honorable one, that the work was most pleasant, that the road was +strewn with flowers and that the fulfillment of my duty produced +nothing but friendships. If I had told her the contrary, I myself would +still be as unhappy and would only make another unhappy, which was not +only useless but a sin. So, I kept at my work and tried not to be +discouraged. I tried to fight it down.”</p> + +<p>The school teacher made a short pause and then began again.</p> + +<p>“You know that the books in most of the schools are in +Spanish, excepting the Tagalog catechism, which varies according to the +corporation which appoints the priest of the parish. The books +generally used in the school are novenaries, the ‘Doxology’ +and Father Astete’s catechism, which are no more edifying than +the books of heretics. On account of the fact that it was impossible to +teach the children Spanish, as I wanted to do, and owing to the fact +that I could not translate so many books into the native language, I +decided to try to substitute <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb56" href= +"#pb56">56</a>]</span>for them gradually, short verses, extracts from +the best Tagalog books, such as the ‘Treatise on Urbanity’ +by Hortensio y Feliza, and some of the little pamphlets on agriculture. +Sometimes I myself translated small works, such as the ‘History +of the Philippines,’ by Father Barranera, and afterward dictated +to the pupils for their note books, adding at times some of my own +observations. As I had no maps to teach them geography, I copied one of +those of the province which I saw in the capital, and with this +reproduction and, by the aid of the tiles on the floor, I was able to +give them some ideas about the country. The new priest sent for me. +Although he did not reprimand me severely, he told me, however, that my +first duty was to teach religion, and that before I began to teach any +such things I must prove by an examination that all the children knew +by heart the ‘Mysteries,’ the ‘Doxology,’ and +the ‘Catechism of the Christian Doctrine.’</p> + +<p>“So, in the meantime, I am endeavoring to convert the children +into parrots so that they will know by heart all of these things of +which they do not understand a single word. Many of the pupils already +know the ‘Mysteries’ and the ‘Doxology,’ but I +fear that I am making Father Astete’s efforts useless, inasmuch +as my pupils do not even distinguish between the questions and the +answers, or what either of them signifies. Thus we shall die and thus +shall do those who are yet to be born; yet in Europe they talk about +Progress!”</p> + +<p>“Let us not be so pessimistic,” replied Ibarra, rising +to his feet. “The <i>teniente mayor</i> has invited me to attend +a town meeting to be held in the tribunal. Who knows but that some plan +for improvement may there be adopted!”</p> + +<p>The school teacher arose to go, shaking his head in token of doubt. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb57" href="#pb57">57</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch10" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter X.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Lights and Shadows.</h2> + +<p>The people of the town have made their preparation for the festival +in honor of the patron saint, San Diego, and are gossiping about it, +and about the arrival of Maria Clara, accompanied by her aunt Isabel. +They rejoiced over it, because they liked her, and admired her beauty +very much. They also rejoiced in the change it had made in the priest, +Father Salvi. “He is often absent-minded during the holy +services,” they said. “He scarcely speaks with us, and he +plainly grows more thin and taciturn.” His cook saw this +constantly and complained of the little honor that he did his dishes. +But what most excited the wonder of the people were the two lights +which one could see shining in the convent during the night, while +Father Salvi was visiting at the house of Maria Clara! The old dames +crossed themselves and kept on gossiping.</p> + +<p>Juan Crisostomo Ibarra had telegraphed from the capital of the +province his compliments to Aunt Isabel and her niece, but he had not +explained his absence. Many thought that he had been arrested for +assaulting Father Salvi on the afternoon of “All Saint’s +Day.” But the comments increased still more when, on the +afternoon of the third day, they saw Ibarra get out of a carriage in +front of the little house of his betrothed, and courteously salute the +priest, who was also making his way thither.</p> + +<p>If we go to Maria Clara’s house, we will find it like a little +nest among orange and <i>ilang-ilang</i> trees, surrounded by flowers +and vines which creep up on bamboo sticks and wires, diffusing their +delicious perfume. The rich fragrance of the <i>ilang-ilang</i> reaches +even to the window which looks out on the lake. Here sit the two young +lovers. Ibarra was saying to Maria Clara:</p> + +<p>“To-morrow, before the first ray of morning, your desire shall +be fulfilled. To-night, I shall arrange all so that nothing will be +lacking.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb58" href= +"#pb58">58</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Then I will write to my friends, so that they may come along. +Arrange it so that the priest cannot come.”</p> + +<p>“And why?”</p> + +<p>“Because he seems to be watching me. His deep and sombre eyes +pain me. When he fixes them upon me, they frighten me. He speaks to me +of extraordinary things, so incomprehensible, so strange. He asked me +once if I had not dreamed about my mother’s letters. I believe he +is half crazy. My friend Sinang, and Andeng, my foster sister, say that +he is a little out of his head, for he neither eats nor bathes, and he +lives entirely in the darkness. Don’t have him come!”</p> + +<p>“We cannot but invite him,” replied Ibarra. “The +customs of the country require it. He is the priest of your house and, +besides, he has conducted himself nobly toward me. When the <i> +Alcalde</i> consulted him on the business of which I have spoken to +you, he had nothing but praises for me and did not pretend to offer the +slightest obstacle. But I see that you are serious. I shall take care +that he does not accompany us in the boat.”</p> + +<p>Light steps were heard. They were those of the priest, who was +approaching with a forced smile on his lips. They began to talk of +different subjects, about the weather, the town and the festival. Maria +Clara devised an excuse and went out.</p> + +<p>“And while we are speaking about festivals,” said +Ibarra, “allow me to invite you to the one which we are going to +celebrate to-morrow. It is going to be a country picnic, which we and +our friends are planning.”</p> + +<p>“And where will it be held?”</p> + +<p>“The girls want to hold it near the brook in the woods, near +the <i>balitî</i> tree. So we will have to get up early to reach +the place before the sun gets hot.”</p> + +<p>The priest reflected, and a moment later replied: “The +invitation is very tempting, and I accept it in order to prove that I +hold no grudge against you for what has happened in the past. But I +will have to be a little late, as I must fulfill my religious duties +first. How happy to be like you, entirely free and +independent!”</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, Ibarra took his leave in order to arrange for +the picnic on the following day. It was already quite dark when he left +the house. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb59" href= +"#pb59">59</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch11" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XI.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The Fishing Party.</h2> + +<p>The stars were still shining in the sapphire heavens, and the birds +were sleeping on the branches of the trees, when a jolly little party, +by the light from the pitch torches, wandered through the streets of +the town toward the lake.</p> + +<p>Five young maidens, clinging to each other’s hands or belts, +tripped along briskly. Behind them came several elderly women and a +number of servants gracefully carrying on their heads baskets filled +with provisions and various dishes for the picnic. On seeing their +joyful faces, with their youthful smiles, their beautiful black hair as +it floated in the breeze, and the wide folds of their pretty dresses, +you would have taken them for goddesses of the night and would have +thought that they were fleeing from day—if perchance you had not +already known that it was Maria Clara and her four friends: jolly +Sinang; her cousin, the serious Victoria; beautiful Iday; and the +pensive Neneng, pretty, modest and timid.</p> + +<p>They were talking with animation; they laughed; pinched each other; +whispered in each other’s ears and then burst out in shouts of +merriment.</p> + +<p>“You girls will wake up everybody in town. Don’t you +know that people are still asleep?” said Aunt Isabel, +reprimanding them. “When we were young, we didn’t make such +a noise.”</p> + +<p>“But you didn’t get up as early as we do, nor were the +old men such great sleepers in your day,” replied little +Sinang.</p> + +<p>They were quiet for a moment and were trying to talk in a low voice, +but they quickly forgot themselves and were again filling the streets +with their youthful laughter and melodious voices. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb60" href="#pb60">60</a>]</span></p> + +<p>Several young fellows were coming down the street, lighting their +way with large bamboo torches. They were marching along almost +noiselessly to the tune of a guitar.</p> + +<p>“That guitar sounds as though some beggar were playing +it,” said Sinang, laughing. But when the young fellows caught up +with the rest of the party, the girls suddenly became as quiet and as +serious as though they never had learned how to laugh. The young men, +however, chatted away, saluted the ladies, laughed and smiled and asked +half a dozen questions without giving the girls time to answer any one +of them.</p> + +<p>The two large <i>bancas</i>,<a class="noteref" id="xd0e1676src" +href="#xd0e1676">1</a> which had been secured to transport the picnic +party to the fishing grounds, were fastened together and picturesquely +adorned with wreaths and garlands of flowers and a large number of +vari-colored candles. Paper lanterns hung from the improvised covering +of the <i>bancas</i>. Alternately with these were roses, pinks and +baskets of fruits such as pineapples, <i>kasuys</i>, bananas, <i> +guayabas</i> and <i>lanzones</i>. Ibarra had brought his carpets, +blankets and rugs and arranged comfortable seats for the ladies. The +poles and paddles used to propel the <i>bancas</i> had also been +ornamented. In the better <i>banca</i> were a harp, guitars, +accordeons, and a buffalo horn; while, in the other boat, a little fire +had been lighted in an improvised stove in order that tea, coffee and +<i>salabat</i><a class="noteref" id="xd0e1699src" href= +"#xd0e1699">2</a> might be prepared for the light breakfast.</p> + +<p>“The women sit here; the men, there,” said the mothers +on stepping into the <i>banca</i>. “Sit still and don’t +move, or we will be capsized.”</p> + +<p>“Cross yourselves before we start,” said Aunt Isabel, as +she traced the form of a cross on her breast.</p> + +<p>“And are we to be here all by ourselves,” asked Sinang, +on seeing how the girls had been separated from the young men, by the +assignment of the seats. Then making a grimace she asked again, +“Are we going to be all alone? <i>Aray!</i>”</p> + +<p>This <i>aray</i> was caused by a little pinch which her mother had +given her on the arm in the way of a reprimand for her complaint. <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb61" href="#pb61">61</a>]</span></p> + +<p>The <i>bancas</i> were now putting off slowly from the shore. The +light from the torches and Japanese lanterns was reflected in the +water, for the lake was as smooth as a mirror. In the far eastern +horizon could be seen the first rosy tints of the approaching dawn.</p> + +<p>Everything was very quiet. The young women, in consequence of the +separation from the young men, seemed to be absorbed in meditation.</p> + +<p>As the water was smooth as glass and the bamboo weirs where the fish +were to be found were not far off, and, it was still early, it was +decided that all should stop paddling and take breakfast. The lights +were put out, for the day had dawned and preparations were made for <i> +desayuno</i>.<a class="noteref" id="xd0e1732src" href= +"#xd0e1732">3</a></p> + +<p>The entire party became jolly as they breathed in the light breeze +that had come up. Even the women, so full of presentiments a few +moments ago, were now laughing and joking among themselves.</p> + +<p>One young man alone of all the party remained silent. He was the +pilot, an athletic-looking fellow, and interesting on account of his +large, sad eyes and the severe lines of his lips. His long, black hair +fell gracefully over his powerful neck. He wore a shirt of coarse dark +cloth, through which his powerful muscles could be plainly seen as he +manipulated with his strong arms the wide, heavy paddle as if it were +only a pen. This paddle served both to propel and to steer the <i> +bancas</i>.</p> + +<p>More than once he was embarrassed when he caught Maria Clara looking +at him. Then he would turn his eyes quickly to some other direction and +look far off toward the mountain, or the shore of the lake. The young +maiden pitied him in his solitude and offered him some biscuits. The +pilot looked at her with surprise, but only for a moment. He took the +biscuits, thanked her very briefly and in a voice scarcely audible.</p> + +<p>No one else took any notice of him. The happy laughter and jolly +conversation of the young men did not cause him to relax a single +muscle of his face. Not even Sinang, with all her jollity, had any +effect on him. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb62" href= +"#pb62">62</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Wait a minute!” said Aunt Isabel to the boatman’s +son, who had made ready his net and was just about to go up on the <i> +baklad</i> to take out the fish from the little enclosure at the end of +the weir. “We must have everything ready, so that the fish may +pass directly from the water to the pot.”</p> + +<p>Andeng, the pretty foster sister of Maria Clara, despite her clear +complexion and laughing face, had the reputation of being a good cook. +She prepared the rice, tomatoes, and <i>camias</i>,<a class="noteref" +id="xd0e1757src" href="#xd0e1757">4</a> while some of the young men +tried to aid or bother her, perhaps in order to win her good will. The +other girls were busy cleaning and making ready the lettuce, cabbage +and peas, and cutting up paayap in pieces about the size of a +cigarette.</p> + +<p>Finally Andeng announced that the kettle was ready to receive its +guests—the fish.</p> + +<p>The fisherman’s son went up on top of the rack at the end of +the weir. He took a position at the narrow entrance, over which might +have been written: “All who enter here leave hope behind,” +if indeed the unfortunate fish would know how to read and understand +it, for a fish who enters never gets out except to die. The rack is +almost circular in form and about a meter in diameter, and is so +arranged that a man can stand on top of one end of it and thus take out +the fish with his net.</p> + +<p>“There, it wouldn’t tire me a bit to fish that +way,” said Sinang, quite joyful.</p> + +<p>All were watching attentively. Already some of them in their vivid +imaginations thought they could see the fish wiggling their tails and +trying to get out of the little net, their scales shining in the bright +sun. However, the young man failed to catch a single fish in his first +attempt.</p> + +<p>“It ought to be full of fish,” said Albino, in a low +voice. “It is more than five days since we visited the place +last.”</p> + +<p>The fisherman drew out his net a second time, but not a fish was +there in it. The water, as it trickled through the meshes of the net in +countless drops which reflected <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb63" +href="#pb63">63</a>]</span>the rays of the sun, seemed to laugh in +silvery tones. An “Ah” of surprise, disgust, and +disappointment escaped from the lips of all.</p> + +<p>The young fellow repeated the same operation, but with a similar +result.</p> + +<p>“You don’t understand your business!” said Albino +to him as he stepped up on the rack and took the net from the hands of +the youngster. “Now you will see! Andeng, open up the +kettle!”</p> + +<p>But Albino did not understand his business, either. The net came up +empty as before. All began to laugh.</p> + +<p>“Don’t make any noise,” he said, “or the +fish will hear it and will keep from being caught. This net must have a +hole in it somewhere.”</p> + +<p>But every mesh in the net was perfect.</p> + +<p>“Let me take it!” said Leon, Iday’s lover, to +Albino.</p> + +<p>Leon first made sure that the enclosure was in good condition and +then examined the net carefully and satisfied himself that there was +nothing wrong with it. He then asked: “Are you sure that no one +has been out here for five days?”</p> + +<p>“We are sure! The last time any one was out here was on All +Saints’ Day.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, I am going to bring out something this time, +unless the lake is bewitched.”</p> + +<p>Leon lowered the net by its bamboo handle into the water, but a look +of surprise was painted on his face. In silence he looked toward the +neighboring mountain and continued moving the handle of the net from +one side to the other. Finally, without taking the net out of the +water, he murmured in a low voice: “An alligator.”</p> + +<p>“An alligator!” exclaimed half a dozen voices, and the +word was repeated again while all stood frightened and stupefied.</p> + +<p>“What did you say?” they asked.</p> + +<p>“I say that there is an alligator caught in the rack,” +said Leon, and sticking the handle of the net into the water again he +continued: “Do you hear that sound? That is not sand, it is hard +skin, the back of the alligator. Do you see how he wiggles the bamboo +pickets in the rack? He is struggling hard but he cannot do anything. +Wait. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb64" href="#pb64">64</a>]</span>He +is a large fellow; his body measures a palm or more in +width.”</p> + +<p>“What shall be done?” was the question.</p> + +<p>“Catch him,” said one.</p> + +<p>“<i>Jesús!</i> And who will catch him?”</p> + +<p>Nobody offered to dive down to the bottom of the rack. The water was +very deep.</p> + +<p>“We ought to tie him to our <i>banca</i> and drag him along in +triumph,” said Sinang. “The idea of his eating the fish +which we ought to have!”</p> + +<p>“I have never seen to this day a live alligator,” said +Maria Clara.</p> + +<p>The pilot rose to his feet, took a long rope and went up cautiously +to the platform on the top of the rack. Leon gave up his position to +him.</p> + +<p>With the exception of Maria Clara, none up till now had paid any +attention to him. Now every one was admiring his fine stature.</p> + +<p>To the great surprise of all and in spite of all their cries, the +pilot leaped into the enclosure.</p> + +<p>“Take this knife!” shouted Crisostomo, drawing out a +wide-bladed Toledo knife.</p> + +<p>But already a thousand little bubbles were rising to the surface of +the water, and all that was going on in the depths below was wrapped in +mystery.</p> + +<p>“<i>Jesús, Maria y José!</i>” exclaimed +the women. “We are going to have a misfortune. <i>Jesús, +Maria y José!</i>”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be alarmed, señoras,” said the old +boatman. “If there is any one in this province who can do it, it +is that fellow who has just gone down.”</p> + +<p>“What is his name?” they asked.</p> + +<p>“We call him ‘The Pilot’; he is the best I have +ever seen, only he does not like his profession.”</p> + +<p>The water was being stirred violently, and it seemed that a fierce +fight was being waged in the depths of the lake. The sides of the +enclosure swayed to and fro, while the water seemed to be swirled by a +dozen currents. All held their breath. Ibarra grasped tightly the +handle of his sharp knife.</p> + +<p>The fight seemed to be at an end. The head of the young man rose to +the surface of the water, and the sight <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb65" href="#pb65">65</a>]</span>was greeted by joyful shouts from +all. The eyes of the women were full of tears.</p> + +<p>The pilot crawled up on the platform carrying in his hand the end of +the rope, and as soon as he was able pulled on it.</p> + +<p>The monster appeared on top of the water. He had the rope tied twice +around his neck, and once behind his forelegs. He was a large fellow, +as Leon had already announced. He was beautifully colored and green +moss was growing on his back. He bellowed like an ox, struck his tail +against the sides of the enclosure, snapped at them, and opened his +black, frightful-looking mouth, showing his long teeth.</p> + +<p>The pilot, unassisted, raised him up out of the water. No one +offered to help him. Just as soon as the animal was out of the water +and placed on the platform, the pilot put his foot on his back. Then, +closing the animal’s massive jaws, he tried to tie his big snout +tight with the rope. The reptile made a last effort, doubled up his +body, struck the floor of the platform with his powerful tail and, +breaking loose, made a leap into the water of the lake, on the other +side of the weir, at the same time dragging with him his captor. It +seemed that the pilot would be a dead man. A cry of horror went up from +all.</p> + +<p>Like a flash of lightning, another body leaped into the water. So +quickly was it done that they had scarcely time to see that it was +Ibarra. Maria Clara did not faint, simply because the Filipinos do not +know how to faint.</p> + +<p>They all saw the water become colored, and tinged with blood. The +young fisherman leaped to the bottom with his bolo in his hand; his +father followed him. But, scarcely had they disappeared, when they saw +Crisostomo and the pilot reappear, clinging to the body of the reptile. +The monster’s white belly was slashed, while in his throat the +knife still stuck like a nail.</p> + +<p>It is impossible to describe the joy that came over the party at the +sight; all arms were extended to help them out of the water. The old +women were half crazed with joy, and laughed and prayed. Andeng forgot +that her kettle had been boiling three different times; now it was +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb66" href="#pb66">66</a>]</span>leaking +and had put out the fire. The only one who could not speak was Maria +Clara.</p> + +<p>Ibarra was unhurt. The pilot had a slight scratch on his arm.</p> + +<p>“I owe you my life!” said he to Ibarra as the latter +wrapped himself up in the shawls and blankets. The voice of the pilot +had a ring of sincerity.</p> + +<p>“You are too bold,” replied Ibarra. “Another time +you must not tempt God.”</p> + +<p>“If you had never come back!” exclaimed Maria, pale and +trembling.</p> + +<p>“If I had never come back and you had followed after +me,” replied the young man, “I would have been with all my +family in the bottom of the lake.” Ibarra was thinking that in +those depths lay the remains of his father.</p> + +<p>The mothers of the girls did not want to go to the other <i> +baklad</i> or weir. They preferred to go back home happy, for the day +had commenced with a bad omen and they feared that they would suffer +many misfortunes.</p> + +<p>“It is all because we have not heard mass,” sighed one +of them.</p> + +<p>“But what misfortune have we had, señoras?” asked +Ibarra. “The alligator was the unfortunate one.”</p> + +<p>“That goes to show,” concluded Albino, “that, in +all his fishing life, this reptile has never heard mass. I never saw +him, I am sure, among the other reptiles who frequent the +church.”</p> + +<p>The <i>bancas</i> were turned toward the other fish rack, and it was +necessary for Andeng to get the water boiling again.</p> + +<p>The day was advancing; a breeze was blowing; little waves were +stirred up on the water, and rippled around the alligator. The music +began again. Iday was playing the harp, while the young men were +playing the accordeons and guitars with more or less skill. But the one +who played best was Albino.</p> + +<p>The other weir was visited with an entire lack of confidence. Many +of the party expected to find there the mate to the alligator, but +Nature fooled them and every time that the net was lowered it was +brought up full of fish. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb67" href= +"#pb67">67</a>]</span></p> + +<p>They then headed for the shore of the lake, where is situated the +forest of trees centuries old, owned by Ibarra. There in the shade and +near the crystal brook the party were to take their breakfast among the +flowers or under improvised tents. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb68" +href="#pb68">68</a>]</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e1676src" id="xd0e1676">1</a></span> A narrow canoe.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e1699src" id="xd0e1699">2</a></span> A drink made of honey and +ginger.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e1732src" id="xd0e1732">3</a></span> A light, early breakfast.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e1757src" id="xd0e1757">4</a></span> A native fruit.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id="ch12" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XII.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">In the Woods.</h2> + +<p>Very early that morning Father Salví had said mass, cleaning, +according to his custom, a dozen dirty souls in a few minutes. The +reading of a few letters, which had arrived well sealed with wax, +seemed to cause the worthy curate to lose his appetite, for he allowed +his chocolate to get cold.</p> + +<p>“The Father is ill,” said the cook as he prepared +another cup. “It is several days since he has eaten anything; of +six dishes which I put on the table for him, he has not touched +two.”</p> + +<p>“It must be that he does not sleep well,” replied the +servant. “He has nightmare since he changed his bedroom. Every +day his eyes are sinking deeper, he grows gradually thinner, and is +very yellow.”</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, it was a pitiful sight to behold Father +Salví. He did not care to touch his second cup of chocolate, nor +to taste the Cebu cakes. He walked pensively to and fro in the spacious +<i>sala</i>, crumpling between his bony fingers some letters which he +would read from time to time. Finally, he called for his carriage, got +ready and ordered the coachman to take him to the woods where the +picnic was to be held. Arriving at the place, Father Salví +dismissed the carriage and all alone, entered the forest.</p> + +<p>A shady but difficult path runs through the thicket and leads to the +brook which is formed by the hot springs so plentiful at the base of +Mount Makiling.</p> + +<p>For some time, Father Salví was wandering among the thick +underbrush, here trying to evade the thorns which entangled his habit +of <i>guingon</i> as if to detain him; there trying to step over the +roots of the trees which stuck up through the ground and made the +inexperienced traveler <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb69" href= +"#pb69">69</a>]</span>stumble again and again. Suddenly he stopped. +Mirthful laughter and the sound of young voices reached his ears. The +voices and the laughter seemed to come from the direction of the brook +and each time seemed to be coming nearer.</p> + +<p>“I am going to see if I can find a heron’s nest,” +said a voice, beautiful and sweet, and at once recognized by the +curate. “You know they say that if a person possesses one of +those nests he can make himself invisible to everybody. How I would +like to see <i>him</i> and not have him see me! I could follow him +everywhere.”</p> + +<p>Father Salví hid behind the thick trunk of an old tree and +listened.</p> + +<p>“That is to say, you want to do with him what the curate does +with you: watch him everywhere?” replied the merry voice. +“Be careful, for jealousy makes one grow thin and the eyes sink +in.”</p> + +<p>“No, no. It is not jealousy, it is pure curiosity,” +replied the silvery voice, while the other repeated, “yes, yes, +jealousy; that’s what it is.” And then she broke out in a +merry chuckle.</p> + +<p>“If I were jealous of <i>him</i> I would not use the +heron’s nest to make myself invisible to him, but would make him +invisible to everybody else.”</p> + +<p>“But then you yourself would not be able to see him and you +would not want that to happen. The best thing to do, if we find a +heron’s nest is to give it to the priest. Then he could watch us +as much as he pleased, and we would not be troubled with the sight of +him. What do you think of the idea?”</p> + +<p>“But I don’t believe in the story about the +heron’s nests, anyway,” replied one. “But if I were +really jealous I would know how to keep watch of a person and make +myself invisible....”</p> + +<p>“And how? How would you do it? Perhaps you would do as Sister +Listener does in the convent?”</p> + +<p>This reference to days passed in the convent provoked a jolly laugh +all around.</p> + +<p>Father Salví saw from his hiding-place Maria Clara, Victoria, +and Sinang, wading in the stream. All three were looking into the +water, which was like a mirror, in <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb70" +href="#pb70">70</a>]</span>search of the heron’s nest. They were +getting wet up to their knees, the wide folds of their bathing skirts +allowing one to guess how graceful were the curves of their limbs. They +were wearing their hair loose and their arms were bare. Striped, +bright-colored bodices covered their breasts. The three lasses, at the +same time that they were hunting for that which did not exist, +collected flowers and plants which were growing on the banks of the +stream.</p> + +<p>The religious Acteon, pale and immovable, stood gazing upon Maria +Clara, that chaste Diana. The eyes which shone in those dark orbits +never tired of admiring those white and beautiful arms, that pretty, +round neck, those tiny and rosy feet as they played in the water. As he +contemplated all this, strange feelings were awakened in his breast, +new dreams took possession of his burning mind.</p> + +<p>The three pretty forms disappeared in a thick growth of bamboo +behind a bend in the stream, but their cruel allusions could still be +heard by the curate. Intoxicated with the strange ideas in his head, +staggering, and covered with perspiration, Father Salví left his +hiding-place and looked about him in all directions with staring eyes. +He stood immovable, in doubt. He took a few steps as if to follow the +young women, but he turned about, and walked along the bank of the +stream in order to find the rest of the picnic party.</p> + +<p>Some distance ahead, in the middle of the stream, he could see a +bathing place well enclosed by bamboo. He could hear, merry laughter +and feminine accents coming from that direction. Still further down the +stream he could see a bamboo bridge and some men in bathing. In the +meantime, a multitude of servants were bustling about the improvised +fireplaces, some engaged in plucking chickens, others in washing rice +and roasting pig. And there on the opposite bank, in a clearing which +had been made, were a number of men and women under a tent. The tent +had been made by hanging canvas from the limbs of some of the old trees +and by erecting a few poles. There in the group was the <i>alferez</i>, +the <i>teniente mayor</i>, the coadjutor, the <i>gobernadorcillo</i>, +the school teacher, a number, of past captains and lieutenants, +including even <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb71" href= +"#pb71">71</a>]</span>Captain Basilio, who was Sinang’s father, +and the former rival of the deceased Don Rafael. Ibarra had said to +him: “The mere fact that we are parties to a law-suit does not +mean that we have to be enemies.” So it was that the celebrated +orator of the conservative party had accepted the invitation to the +picnic with enthusiasm, and had even brought along three turkeys and +put his servants at the disposition of the young man.</p> + +<p>The parish priest was received with respect and deference by all, +even by the <i>alferez</i>.</p> + +<p>“But where did Your Reverence come from?” some one asked +on seeing his face full of scratches, and his habit covered with leaves +and pieces of dried branches. “Has Your Reverence fallen +down?”</p> + +<p>“No, I lost my way,” replied Father Salví, +looking down and examining his clothes.</p> + +<p>Bottles of lemonade were opened, green cocoanuts were cut in two so +that those who were coming out of the bath might have the refreshing +milk to drink and the delicate meat to eat. The young women in addition +received rosaries of <i>sampagas</i> interwoven with roses and <i> +ilang-ilang</i>, which gave a beautiful fragrance to their loose hair. +Some were sitting or lying in hammocks which had been hung from the +branches of the trees; others were entertaining themselves in a game +that was going on around a large, flat stone. Playing cards, checkers, +dice and many other games were in progress.</p> + +<p>They showed the alligator to the curate, but he seemed absorbed and +paid no attention until they mentioned the fact that the wide wound in +the animal’s neck had been made by Ibarra. Then, too, the pilot, +the principal figure in the incident, had disappeared and could not be +found anywhere.</p> + +<p>Finally Maria Clara came out of the bath, accompanied by her +friends, fresh as a rose when first it blooms, and when the dew on its +divine petals glistens like diamonds. Her first smile was for Ibarra; +and her first frown for Father Salví. The latter noticed this, +but he did not even sigh.</p> + +<p>It was now time to eat. The curate, the coadjutor, the <i> +alferez</i>, the <i>gobernadorcillo</i>, and some of the captains, +together <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb72" href= +"#pb72">72</a>]</span>with the <i>tenente mayor</i> sat down at the +table over which Ibarra presided. The mothers of the girls did not +allow any one to eat at the table with their charges.</p> + +<p>“Do you know anything yet, Señor Alferez, about the +criminal who assaulted Father Dámaso?” asked Father +Salví.</p> + +<p>“About what criminal, Father?” asked the <i>alferez</i>, +looking at the parish priest through his empty wine glass.</p> + +<p>“About whom could it be? About the one who, day before +yesterday, struck Father Dámaso, of course.”</p> + +<p>“Struck Father Dámaso?” asked a number of +voices.</p> + +<p>The coadjutor was seen to smile.</p> + +<p>“Yes; and Father Dámaso is now in bed. It is believed +that the culprit was that same Elias who once threw you into a +mud-hole, Señor Alferez.”</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> colored up a little, either from shame or too +much wine.</p> + +<p>“I thought that you were interested in the affair,” +continued Father Salví, with a little jeering in his manner.</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> bit his lips and mumbled out a silly excuse.</p> + +<p>The meal ended and, while tea and coffee were being served, the +young and old distributed themselves about in various groups. Some +picked up playing cards and others dice, but the young women, anxious +to know the future, preferred to try their luck with the wheel of +fortune.</p> + +<p>“Come, Señor Ibarra,” shouted Captain Basilio, +who was a little bit jolly. “We have a law-suit that has been +pending for fifteen years, and there isn’t a judge in the Supreme +Court in Manila who can decide it. Let us see if we can settle it on +the chess board. What do you say?”</p> + +<p>The game of chess began with much solemnity.</p> + +<p>“If the game is a draw,” said Ibarra, “it is +understood that the suit is off.”</p> + +<p>About the middle of the game, Ibarra received a telegram which made +his eyes glisten and his face grow pale. He put it in his pocket-book, +not, however, without directing a glance at the group of young women +who continued with much laughter to play the wheel of fortune.</p> + +<p>“Check to the king!” said the young man. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb73" href="#pb73">73</a>]</span></p> + +<p>Captain Basilio had no other resort than to hide him behind the +queen.</p> + +<p>“Check to the queen!” said Ibarra, threatening it with +his rook, which was defended by a pawn.</p> + +<p>Not being able to cover the queen, nor to retire it on account of +the fact that the king was behind it, Captain Basilio asked permission +to study the situation a little.</p> + +<p>“Certainly, with much pleasure,” replied Ibarra. +“I will take advantage of the opportunity, for I have something +to say to some of the members of that group over there.”</p> + +<p>And rising to his feet, he gave his opponent half an hour to study +it out.</p> + +<p>Iday held in her hands the strip of cardboard on which was written +forty-eight questions, while Albino held the book which contained the +answers.</p> + +<p>“That’s a lie! It’s not so! It lies!” cried +Sinang, half in tears.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter with you?” asked Maria Clara.</p> + +<p>“Just imagine it: I asked the question ‘When will I have +some sense?’ I threw the dice and he, this all-night-watching +priest (Albino, the ex-seminary student) reads from the book: +‘When the frogs grow hairs.’ What do you think of +that?”</p> + +<p>And Sinang made a face at the former religious student, who was +still laughing heartily.</p> + +<p>“Who told you to ask such a question?” said her cousin +Victoria. “Any one who asks such a question deserves just such an +answer.”</p> + +<p>“You ask a question!” said they all to Ibarra. “We +have agreed that the one who receives the best answer shall receive a +gift from the others. We have all asked our questions +already.”</p> + +<p>“And who has received the best answer?”</p> + +<p>“Maria Clara, Maria Clara!” replied Sinang. “We +made her ask the question whether you loved her or not: ‘Is your +lover faithful and constant,’ and the book +replied——”</p> + +<p>But Maria Clara colored up, and, putting her hands over +Sinang’s mouth, did not allow her to finish what she had to say. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb74" href="#pb74">74</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Then, let me try it,” said Crisostomo, smiling.</p> + +<p>He asked the question: “Will I succeed in my present +undertaking?”</p> + +<p>“You are going to get a bad answer,” exclaimed +Sinang.</p> + +<p>Ibarra threw the dice, and noting the number, they looked for the +page in the little book with the corresponding answer.</p> + +<p>“Dreams are only dreams,” read Albino.</p> + +<p>Ibarra took out his pocket-book and opened it trembling.</p> + +<p>“This time your book has lied,” he said, full of joy. +“Read this!”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> +<p>“Plan for school house approved; other matter decided in your +favor.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> +<p>“What does that mean?” they all asked.</p> + +<p>“Did you not tell me that the one who received the best answer +was to get a present?” the young man asked, his voice trembling +with emotion while he carefully divided the paper into two parts.</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes!”</p> + +<p>“Well, then! This is my gift,” he said handing half of +the telegram to Maria Clara. “I am going to have a school house +for boys and girls erected in the town. This school house will be my +gift.”</p> + +<p>“And this other piece: what does that mean?”</p> + +<p>“I will give that to the one who has obtained the worst +answer.”</p> + +<p>“Then that is for me!” exclaimed Sinang.</p> + +<p>Ibarra gave her the piece of paper and quickly went off.</p> + +<p>“And what does this mean?”</p> + +<p>But the happy young man was already far away from the little group +and he did not reply. He had gone to finish the game of chess.</p> + +<p>After making the present to his betrothed, Ibarra was so happy that +he began to play without stopping to think or even examining carefully +the position of the chess. As a result, although Captain Basilio had +defended himself <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb75" href= +"#pb75">75</a>]</span>only by the greatest effort, the young man made +so many mistakes that the game resulted in a draw.</p> + +<p>“We end the suit, we end the suit!” said Captain +Basilio, happy over his success.</p> + +<p>“Yes, we declare it off,” repeated the young man, +“whatever decision the judges may have been able to +reach.”</p> + +<p>Each grasped the hand of the other and shook it with effusion.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, while those present were celebrating the ending of +the law-suit, of which both had long been tired, four Civil Guards and +a sergeant suddenly arrived on the scene. They were all armed and had +their bayonets fixed, a fact which naturally disturbed the merriment +and brought fright into the circle of women.</p> + +<p>“Let everybody be quiet!” cried the sergeant. +“Whoever moves will be shot!”</p> + +<p>In spite of this gruff boast, Ibarra rose to his feet and approached +the sergeant.</p> + +<p>“What do you wish?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“That you give up at once the criminal named Elias who acted +as pilot for your party this morning,” he replied, in a +threatening tone.</p> + +<p>“A criminal? The pilot? You must be mistaken!” replied +Ibarra.</p> + +<p>“No, sir; that Elias is now accused of another crime, of +having laid his hands on a priest——”</p> + +<p>“Ah! And is the pilot the one?”</p> + +<p>“He is the same one, so we are told. You are allowing people +of bad reputation to attend your festivals, Señor +Ibarra.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra looked at him from head to foot and replied with supreme +contempt: “I don’t have to account to you for my actions. +At our festivals everybody is well received, and you yourself, if you +had come, would have been given a seat at the table, the same as the +<i>alferez</i> who was here among us two hours ago.”</p> + +<p>Saying this, Ibarra turned his back to him. The sergeant bit his +mustache and ordered his men to search everywhere among the trees for +the pilot, whose description he had on a piece of paper. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb76" href="#pb76">76</a>]</span></p> + +<p>Don Filipo said to him: “Take note that this description +corresponds to that of nine-tenths of the natives. Take care that you +do not make a mistake!”</p> + +<p>At last the soldiers returned, saying that they had not been able to +discover either a <i>banca</i>, or a man that aroused their suspicion. +The sergeant murmured a few indistinct words and then marched off.</p> + +<p>Soon the people became jolly again, but questions, wonder and +comments were without end.</p> + +<p>So the afternoon passed and the hour for departure arrived. Just as +the sun was dropping below the horizon they left the woods. The trees +seemed sad and all the surroundings seemed to bid them farewell and +say: “Good-bye, happy youth; good-bye, dream of a day.”</p> + +<p>And a little later, by the light of glowing torches of bamboo and +with the music of guitars, we leave them on the road toward the town. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb77" href="#pb77">77</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch13" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XIII.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">In the House of Tasio.</h2> + +<p>On the morning of the following day, Juan Crisostomo Ibarra, after +visiting his estates, went to the house of Tasio, the philosopher, his +father’s friend.</p> + +<p>Quiet reigned in the old man’s garden. The swallows were +flying about the gables of the house, but they were making scarcely a +sound. The windows were covered with vines which clung to the old, +moss-covered wall and made the house appear all the more solitary and +quiet. Ibarra tied his horse to a post and, walking almost on tip-toes, +crossed the clean and well-cultivated garden. He went up the stairs +and, as the door was open, walked in. An old man leaned over a book in +which he seemed to be writing. On the walls of the room were +collections of insects and leaves, maps, and some shelves of books and +manuscripts.</p> + +<p>Tasio was so absorbed in his work that he did not notice the arrival +of the youth. The latter, not wishing to disturb the philosopher, tried +to retire from the place, but the old man, looking up, said: +“What? Are you here?” and showed no little surprise in his +look.</p> + +<p>“Excuse me,” replied Ibarra, “I see that you are +very busy.”</p> + +<p>“As a matter of fact I was writing a little, but it is not +urgent, and I want to rest myself. Can I be useful to you in any +way?”</p> + +<p>Ibarra drew some papers from his pocket-book and replied: “My +father was wont to consult you in many things, and I remember that he +never had to do other than congratulate himself when he followed your +advice. I have on my hands a small undertaking and I want to be assured +of success.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra then related to him briefly his plan for the erection of a +school house in honor of his betrothed. He <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb78" href="#pb78">78</a>]</span>showed the stupefied philosopher +the plans which had been returned from Manila.</p> + +<p>“I wish that you would advise me as to what persons I ought +first to have on my side in order to make the undertaking most +successful. You are well acquainted with the inhabitants of the town. I +have just arrived here and am almost a stranger in my +country.”</p> + +<p>The old man examined the plans which were laid out before him. His +eyes were full of tears.</p> + +<p>“That which you are going to carry out was a dream of mine, +the dream of a poor fool,” he exclaimed, greatly moved. +“And now, my first advice to you is that you never come to +consult me in regard to the matter.”</p> + +<p>The young man looked at him in surprise.</p> + +<p>“Because sensible people,” he continued, in an ironical +tone, “will take you for a fool, like myself. People always +consider every one a fool who does not think just as they do and, for +this reason, they call me crazy. But I am obliged to them for that, for +woe be to me when the time arrives that they say I have sense! That +day, should it ever come, would deprive me of the little liberty which +I have purchased by sacrificing my reputation for being +sane.”</p> + +<p>And the old man shook his head, as if to drive away a thought and +continued: “My second advice to you is that you consult the +curate, the <i>gobernadorcillo</i>, and all the people of good +standing. They will all give you bad, foolish and useless advice, but +to consult does not mean to obey. Try to appear to be following their +advice as far as possible and make them think you are working according +to their wishes.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra sat thinking for a moment and then replied: “The advice +is good but difficult to follow. Could I not carry out my work without +a shadow reflecting upon it? Could I not carry out the good work in +spite of all? Does truth need to be clothed in the garments of +falsehood?”</p> + +<p>“That’s it. Nobody likes the bare truth.”</p> + +<p>“I hope to be able to realize all my hopes without +encountering great resistance,” said Ibarra.</p> + +<p>“Yes, if the priests lend you their hand; no, if they draw it +away. All your efforts will be battered to pieces <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb79" href="#pb79">79</a>]</span>against the walls of +the curate’s house. The <i>alcalde</i> will deny to you to-morrow +what he has granted you to-day. Not a mother will let her son attend +the school, and then all your efforts will have just an opposite effect +to that intended. You will discourage all others who might wish to +attempt beneficent undertakings.”</p> + +<p>“Nevertheless,” replied Ibarra, “I cannot believe +in this power of which you speak. And even supposing it to be true, +admitting that it is as you say, would I not still have on my side the +sensible people and the Government?”</p> + +<p>“The Government! The Government!” exclaimed the +philosopher, raising his eyes and looking at the ceiling. +“However much the Government may desire to uplift the country for +its own benefit and that of the mother country; however generous may be +the Catholic Kings in spirit, I must remind you in confidence that +there is another power which does not allow the Government to see, +hear, or judge except what the curates or provincial priests wish. The +Government is afraid of the advancement of the people, and the people +are afraid of the forces of the Government. So long as the Government +does not understand the people of the country, the country will never +get out from this guardianship. The people will live like weak, young +children who tremble at the sound of the voice of their tutor, whose +mercy they beg. The Government has no dreams of a great future, a +healthy development of the country. The people do not complain, because +they have no voice. They do not move, because they are too carefully +watched. You say that they do not suffer, because you have not seen +what would make your heart bleed. But some day you will see it! alas! +some day you will hear it. When the light of day is thrown on their +monstrous forms, you will see a frightful reaction. That great force, +held back for centuries, that poison, distilled drop by drop, those +sighs, so long repressed—all will come to light and will some day +burst forth.... Who will then pay the accounts which the people will +present and which History preserves for us on its bloody +pages?”</p> + +<p>“God, the Government, and the Church will never allow <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb80" href="#pb80">80</a>]</span>that day to +come!” replied Crisostomo, impressed in spite of himself. +“The Filipinos are religious and they love Spain. The Filipinos +will always know how much this nation has done for them. There are +abuses; yes! There are defects; I do not deny it. But Spain is working +to introduce reforms which will correct them; she is devising plans; +she is not selfish. Can it be that my love for my native land is +incompatible with love for Spain? Is it necessary to lower one’s +self to be a good Christian, to prostitute one’s own conscience +to bring about good? I love my fatherland, the Philippines, because I +owe to her my life and my happiness—because every man should love +his native land. I love Spain, the fatherland of my ancestors, because, +in spite of all that may be said, the Philippines owe to Spain, and +always will owe to her, their happiness and their future. I am a +Catholic. I hold dear the belief of my fathers, and I do not see why I +have to bow my head when I am able to raise it; nor why I have to +entrust it to my enemies, when I can trample on them.”</p> + +<p>“Because the field in which you are sowing your seed is in the +hands of your enemies, and you are weak in comparison to them.... It is +necessary that you first kiss the hand——”</p> + +<p>But the young man did not allow him to go farther and exclaimed +violently: “To kiss their hands! You forget that, between them, +they killed my father; they threw his body out of its sepulchre: but I, +I who am his son, I do not forget it, and, if I do not avenge myself, +it is because I consider the prestige of the Church.”</p> + +<p>The old philosopher bowed his head. “Señor +Ibarra,” he replied slowly, “if you keep those +memories—memories which I cannot advise you to forget—if +you keep those memories, give up your plans and your undertaking and +try to work good for your countrymen in another way. The undertaking +needs another man than you for its execution, because to carry it out +will not only require money and care, but, in our country, self-denial, +tenacity and faith are also needed. The land is not ready for it; it +has been sown only with darnel.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra understood the weight of these words, but he <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb81" href="#pb81">81</a>]</span>was not going to be +discouraged. Thoughts of Maria Clara filled his mind; he must fulfill +his promise to her.</p> + +<p>“Does not your experience suggest something other than this +hard method?” he asked in a low voice.</p> + +<p>The old man took him by the arm and led him to the window. A cool +breeze was blowing from the north. Before his eyes lay the garden, +stretching out to the large forest which served as a park.</p> + +<p>“Why do we not have to do the same as that weak young bush +loaded with roses and buds?” said the philosopher pointing to a +beautiful rose bush. “The wind blows, shakes it and it bends +itself down as if trying to hide its precious load. If the bush kept +itself erect, it would be broken off, the wind would scatter its +flowers and the buds would be blighted. The wind passes over, and the +bush straightens itself up again, proud of its treasure. Thus it would +be with you, a plant transplanted from Europe to this stony ground, if +you did not look about for some support and belittle yourself. Alone +and lofty, you are in bad condition.”</p> + +<p>“And would this sacrifice bring the fruits that I hope +for?” asked Ibarra. “Would the priest have faith in me and +would he forget the offense? Would his kind not be able to feign +friendship, to make a false show of protecting me, and then, from +behind in the darkness, fight me, harass me and wound my heels, thus +making me waver more quickly than they could by attacking me face to +face? Given these premises, what do you think could be +expected?”</p> + +<p>The old man remained silent for some time, not being able to reply. +At last he said: “If such a thing took place, if the undertaking +failed, I would console you with the thought that you had done all that +was in your power. And even so, something would be gained. Lay the +first stone, sow the first seed and after the tempest has passed over, +some little grain perhaps would germinate.”</p> + +<p>“I believe you,” exclaimed Ibarra, stretching out his +hand. “Not in vain did I look for good advice. This very day I +shall go and make friends with the curate.”</p> + +<p>Taking leave of the old man, he mounted on his horse and rode away. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb82" href="#pb82">82</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Attention!” murmured the pessimistic philosopher to +himself, as he followed the young man with his eyes. “Let us +observe carefully how Destiny will unfold the tragedy which began in +the cemetery.”</p> + +<p>But this time the philosopher was truly mistaken. The tragedy had +begun long before. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb83" href= +"#pb83">83</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch14" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XIV.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The Eve of the Fiesta.</h2> + +<p>It is the tenth of November, the eve of the <i>fiesta</i> to be +celebrated in the town of San Diego. Departing from its habitual +monotony, the town is displaying extraordinary activity in the church, +houses, streets, cock-pit, and the fields. Windows are draped with +flags and many-colored decorations. Music and the sound of exploding +fireworks fill the air. Everywhere there is rejoicing.</p> + +<p>In the streets at fixed intervals, beautiful arches of bamboo are +raised, the wood carved and worked in a thousand different ways. The +arches are surrounded with ornaments, the very sight of which brings +joy to the heart of the small boy. In the church yard, a large and +costly awning has been erected. It is propped up by bamboo poles and so +arranged that the procession may pass under it. Under its shade the +children play, run, jump, fall and otherwise manage to tear and soil +their new shirts, which have been intended for the day of the +festival.</p> + +<p>In the public square a platform has been built of bamboo, nipa and +boards, to serve as the stage. It is here that the comedy company from +Tondo will tell wonderful tales, and will compete with the gods in the +performance of miracles. Here Marianito, Chananay, Balbino, Ratia, +Carvajal, Yeyeng, Liceria and the others will sing and dance. The +Filipino loves the theatre, and always attends dramatic productions +with a great deal of pleasure. The <i>gobernadorcillo</i> was very fond +of the theatre, and, with the advice of the curate, he had selected for +the <i>fiesta</i> the fantastic comedy: “Prince Villardo, or the +Nails Pulled Out of the Infamous Cave,” a play full of magic and +fireworks.</p> + +<p>From time to time the bells ring out their merry sounds. +Firecrackers and the booming of little cannon rend the <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb84" href="#pb84">84</a>]</span>air. The Filipino +pyrotechnist, who has learned his art without a teacher of any renown, +displays his skill, setting up pieces representing towers, castles, and +the like. Already the small boys are running at break-neck speed toward +the outskirts of the town to meet the bands of music. Five +organizations have been hired, besides three orchestras.</p> + +<p>A band enters the town playing lively marches, and is followed by a +lot of ragged and half naked pickaninnies: this one, perhaps, has on +his brother’s shirt; that one, his father’s trousers. As +soon as the music stops, these little tots know by memory the piece +that has been played; they whistle and hum it with great delight, +showing at this early age their musical talent.</p> + +<p>In the meantime wagons and carriages arrive, bringing relatives, +friends, and strangers. Gamblers are also on hand with their best +fighting cocks and bags of money, ready to risk their fortunes on the +green cloth or in the cock-pit.</p> + +<p>“The <i>alferez</i> gets fifty dollars a night,” +murmured a little, chubby man when he heard of the recent arrivals, for +there were already many rumors that these people bribed the officer so +that they might not be interfered with by the law. “Captain +Tiago,” he added, “is going to come and will be banker in +the monte game. Captain Joaquin brings eighteen thousand. There is +going to be a <i>liam-po</i>,<a class="noteref" id="xd0e2286src" href= +"#xd0e2286">1</a> and the Chino Carlos is going to back it with ten +thousand <i>pesos</i> capital. Big bettors will come from Tanauan, +Lipa, and Batangas, as well as from Santa Cruz. It’s going to be +great! It’s going to be great! This year Captain Tiago will not +skin us as he has in the past, for he has not paid for more than three +masses this year, and besides, I have a <i>mutya</i><a class="noteref" +id="xd0e2294src" href="#xd0e2294">2</a> of cacao. And how are all the +family?”</p> + +<p>“Very well, very well, thank you!” replied the visitors +from the country.</p> + +<p>But the place where the greatest animation reigns, where there is +almost a tumult, is over there on the level piece of ground, a short +distance from Ibarra’s house. Pulleys creak, and the place +resounds with the sound of the hammer, <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb85" href="#pb85">85</a>]</span>the chiseling of stones, hewing of +beams and the shouting of voices. A gang of workmen is making an +excavation which will be wide and deep; others are busy piling up +quarry stone, unloading carts, sifting sand, putting a capstan in place +and so on.</p> + +<p>“Put that here! That, there! Come, be lively about it!” +shouts a little, old man with an animated and intelligent physiognomy +as he goes about, a yard stick and plumb line in hand. He is the +director of the work, Ñor Juan, architect, mason, carpenter, +whitewasher, locksmith, painter, stone cutter, and, on occasion, +sculptor.</p> + +<p>“We must finish it immediately! To-morrow nothing can be done, +and day after to-morrow the ceremony of laying the corner stone is to +take place! Come, be lively!”</p> + +<p>“Make the hole just large enough for this cylinder!” +said he to one of the stone cutters who was chiseling off a large +quadrangular stone. “Inside of this our names will be +kept.”</p> + +<p>Then he would repeat to every countryman who came along what he had +already said a thousand times: “Do you know what we are going to +build? Well, it is a school house, a model of its kind, something like +those in Germany, but still better. The architect, Señor R., +draughted the plans and I, I am in charge of the work. Yes, sir, you +see this is going to be a regular palace with two wings, one for the +boys and one for the girls. Here in the middle is to be a large garden +with three fountains. There, on the sides, groves, where the children +can sow and cultivate plants during the hours of recreation, thus +improving the time. Just see how deep the foundations are to be: three +meters and seventy-five centimeters. The building is going to have a +cellar where the indolent pupils will be confined. This will be very +close to the playing ground and the gymnasium, so that those who are +punished may hear the diligent pupils enjoying themselves. Do you see +this large space? Well, this will be a place for them to run and jump. +The girls will have a separate garden with benches, swings, a special +place for jumping the rope and rolling hoops, fountains and a +bird-house. This is going to be magnificent!” <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb86" href="#pb86">86</a>]</span></p> + +<p>He kept going from one end to the other, inspecting everything and +passing his opinion on all.</p> + +<p>“I find that you have got too much lumber here for a +crane,” said he to a yellowish-looking fellow, who was directing +some other laborers. “I would have enough, with three large +beams, to form the tripod and with three others to serve as +supporters.”</p> + +<p>“O, pshaw!” replied the other, smiling in a peculiar +way. “The more apparatus we give ourselves, the greater effect we +will produce. The massiveness of it will make a bigger show and give it +more importance. They will say: ‘What a lot of work has been +done!’ You look at that crane that I am constructing. In a little +while, I am going to ornament it with <i>banderolas</i>, garlands of +flowers and leaves, and ... you will say afterward that you were right +in hiring me, and Señor Ibarra cannot wish for more than +that!”</p> + +<p>The man laughed. Ñor Juan also smiled and shook his head.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, the plan for the school had been approved by +everybody and all were talking about it. The curate had asked to be +allowed to be one of the patrons of the enterprise and he himself was +to bless the laying of the corner stone, a ceremony which would take +place on the last day of the San Diego festival, as it was considered +one of the great solemnities.</p> + +<p>The dismal presentiments of the old Tasio seemed to have been +dissipated forever. One day Ibarra told the old man so, but the old +pessimist only replied: “Things may go well at first, but be on +your guard against masked enemies.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb87" href="#pb87">87</a>]</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e2286src" id="xd0e2286">1</a></span> A Chinese gambling game.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e2294src" id="xd0e2294">2</a></span> A little white, pearl-like +substance sometimes found in the cacao tree, which is supposed to be a +lucky omen.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id="ch15" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XV.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">As Night Comes On.</h2> + +<p>Great preparations had also been made in the house of Captain Tiago. +We are already acquainted with the man. His love for pomp and his pride +in being a resident of Manila made it necessary that he should outdo +the residents of the province in the splendor of his celebration. There +was another thing, too, which made it necessary that he should try to +eclipse all others—the fact that his daughter Maria Clara and his +future son-in-law were also there. His prospective connection with +Ibarra caused the Captain to be often spoken of among the people.</p> + +<p>Yes, as a matter of fact, one of the most serious newspapers in +Manila had printed an article on its first page, headed “Imitate +Him!” in which they offered Ibarra much advice and highly +eulogized him. The article spoke of him as “the illustrious and +rich young capitalist.” Two lines below, he was termed “the +distinguished philanthropist,” and, in the following paragraph, +referred to as the “disciple of Minerva who went to his Mother +Country to salute the real birthplace of arts and sciences.” +Captain Tiago was burning with generous emulation and was wondering +whether he ought not to erect a convent at his own expense.</p> + +<p>Days before the week of festivities, numerous boxes of provisions +and drinks, colossal mirrors, pictures, paintings and his +daughter’s piano had arrived at the house. Maria Clara and Aunt +Isabel were already living there. Captain Tiago came on the day before +the beginning of the festival. As he kissed his daughter’s hand, +he made her a present of a beautiful religious relic. It was solid +gold, and set with diamonds and emeralds, and contained a little sliver +from Saint Peter’s boat, in which Our Saviour sat while fishing. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb88" href="#pb88">88</a>]</span></p> + +<p>The Captain’s interview with his future son-in-law could not +have been more cordial. Naturally, the school house was the subject of +conversation. Captain Tiago wanted him to call the school “The +San Francisco School.”</p> + +<p>“Believe me!” he said. “San Francisco is a good +patron saint. If you call it ‘The Primary School,’ you gain +nothing. Who is Primary, anyway?”</p> + +<p>Some friends of Maria Clara arrived and invited her to go for a +walk.</p> + +<p>“But return quickly,” said the Captain to his daughter, +who asked for his permission. “You know that Father Dámaso +is going to dine with us to-night. He has just arrived.”</p> + +<p>And turning to Ibarra who was deep in thought, he added: “You +will dine with us, too? You will be all alone at home.”</p> + +<p>“With the greatest pleasure, I assure you, if I did not have +to be at home to-night to receive visitors,” replied the young +man, mumbling his words and evading Maria Clara’s glance.</p> + +<p>“Bring your friends along with you,” replied Captain +Tiago cheerfully. “In my house there is always enough to eat. +And, besides I would like to have you and Father Dámaso +understand each other.”</p> + +<p>“There’ll be time enough for that,” replied +Ibarra, putting on a forced smile and making ready to accompany the +young ladies.</p> + +<p>They went downstairs. Maria Clara was walking between Victoria and +Iday, while Aunt Isabel followed behind.</p> + +<p>As they passed down the street, people stood aside respectfully and +gave them the inside of the way. Maria Clara was surprisingly beautiful +now. Her paleness had disappeared, and although her eyes were +thoughtful, her mouth, on the contrary, seemed all smiles. With that +amiability known only to a happy maiden, she saluted friends she had +known from childhood who to-day were admirers of her youthful beauty. +In less than fifteen days she had regained that frank confidence, that +childish chatter, which seemed for awhile to have been left <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb89" href="#pb89">89</a>]</span>behind in the +narrow walls of the convent. It seemed as though the butterfly upon +leaving its shell knew all the flowers at once. It was enough that she +be given a moment of flight and an opportunity to warm herself in the +golden rays of the sun, in order to throw off the rigidity of the +chrysalis. New life shone out in every part of her young being. +Everything she met with was good and beautiful. Her love was manifested +with virginal grace, and innocent in thought, she saw nothing to cause +her to put on false blushes. However, she was wont to cover her face +with her fan when they joked with her, but her eyes would smile and a +gentle tremor would pass over her whole being.</p> + +<p>In front of Captain Basilio’s house were some young men who +saluted our acquaintances and invited them into the house. The merry +voice of Sinang was heard, as she descended the stairs on a run and at +once put an end to all excuses.</p> + +<p>“Come up a moment so that I can go out with you,” said +she. “It bores me to be among so many strangers who talk about +nothing but fighting-cocks and playing cards.”</p> + +<p>They went upstairs. The house was full of people. Some advanced to +greet Ibarra, whose name was known to all. They contemplated with +ecstacy Maria Clara’s beauty, and some of the matrons murmured as +they chewed their betel-nut: “She looks like the +Virgin!”</p> + +<p>After they had partaken of chocolate they resumed their walk. In the +corner of the plaza a beggar was singing the romance of the fishes, to +the accompaniment of a guitar. He was a common sight, a man miserably +dressed and wearing a wide-brimmed hat made out of palm leaves. His +clothing consisted of a frock coat covered with patches, and a pair of +wide trousers such as the Chinese wear, but torn in many places. From +beneath the brim of his hat two fiery orbs flashed out a ray of light. +He was tall and from his manner seemed to be young. He put a basket +down on the ground and, afterwards walking away from it a little +distance, he uttered strange, unintelligible sounds. He remained +standing, completely isolated, as if he and the people in the street +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb90" href="#pb90">90</a>]</span>were +trying to avoid each other. Women approached his basket, and dropped +into it fish, fruit and rice. When there was no one else to approach +the basket, other sadder but less mournful sounds could be heard; +perhaps he was thanking them. He picked up his basket and walked away +to do the same in another place.</p> + +<p>Maria Clara felt that this was a pitiful case. Full of interest, she +asked about the strange being.</p> + +<p>“It is a leper,” replied Iday. “He contracted the +disease some four years ago; some say by taking care of his mother, +others by having been confined in a damp prison. He lives there in the +field near the Chinese cemetery. He does not communicate with any one: +everybody flees from him on account of the fear of contagion. You +should see his fantastic little house! The wind, the rain and the +sunshine go in and out of it as a needle goes through cloth. They have +prohibited him from touching anything belonging to anybody. One day a +little child fell into the canal. The canal was deep, but this man +happened to be passing near and helped to get the little child out. The +child’s father learned of it, made a complaint to the <i> +gobernadorcillo</i> and the latter ordered that he be given six stripes +in the middle of the street, the whip to be afterwards burned. That was +atrocious! The leper ran away howling; they pursued him and the <i> +gobernadorcillo</i> cried out: ‘Catch him! One might better be +drowned than have that disease!’”</p> + +<p>“That is true,” murmured Maria Clara. And then, without +noticing what she was doing, she went up to the basket of the +unfortunate wretch and dropped into it the relic which her father had +just presented to her.</p> + +<p>“What have you done?” her friends asked her.</p> + +<p>“I have nothing else to give him,” she replied, +concealing the tears in her eyes by a smile.</p> + +<p>“And what is he going to do with the relic?” said +Victoria to her. “One day they gave him money but he pushed it +away from him with his cane. Why would he care for it, if no one would +accept anything coming from him? If he could only eat the +relic!”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara looked longingly at the women who were selling +provisions and shrugged her shoulders. <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb91" href="#pb91">91</a>]</span></p> + +<p>But the leper approached the basket, picked up the piece of jewelry +which shone in his hands, knelt down, kissed it, and, after taking off +his hat, buried his face in the dust on which the young girl had +walked.</p> + +<p>Maria Clara hid her face behind her fan and raised her handkerchief +to her eyes. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb92" href= +"#pb92">92</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch16" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XVI.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The Hoisting Crane.</h2> + +<p>While two of the actors were singing the <i lang="la">Incarnatus +est</i> in the church at the celebration of mass on the last day of the +<i>fiesta</i>, and all were kneeling and the priests were bowing their +heads, a man whispered in Ibarra’s ear: “During the +ceremony of the blessing of the corner stone, do not go near the +priest, do not go in the ditch, do not approach the corner stone. Your +life will depend on it.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra looked and saw that it was Elias, the pilot, but, as soon as +he had spoken, he lost himself in the crowd.</p> + +<p>The yellow-skinned man kept his word. It was not a simple lifting +crane which he had built over the ditch for the purpose of lowering the +enormous block of granite. It was not the mere tripod which Ñor +Juan had wanted for holding a tackle-block. It was something more. It +was at the same time a machine and an ornament, grand and imposing.</p> + +<p>The confusing and complicated scaffolding had been raised to a +height of more than eight meters. Four heavy timbers buried in the +ground and supporting each other with colossal, diagonal braces, served +as the base. The braces were joined to each other by immense nails, +about half driven into the wood, perhaps because the apparatus was only +of a provisional nature, and it could then be more easily taken down. +Enormous cables were hanging from all sides, giving the entire +apparatus an aspect of solidity and grandeur. The top was gay with +flags and banners of various colors, floating pennants, and massive +garlands of flowers and leaves, all artistically interwoven.</p> + +<p>On high, in the shade of the projecting timbers, banners and +wreaths, a large three-wheeled tackle-block was suspended by ropes and +iron hooks. Over the shining <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb93" href= +"#pb93">93</a>]</span>rims of these pulleys great cables passed, +holding suspended in the air a massive stone. The center of this stone +had been chiseled out so that when lowered upon the hollowed stone, +which had already been placed in the ditch, a small enclosure would be +formed between the two. This space was to contain an account of the +ceremonies, newspapers, manuscripts and coins, to be transmitted, +perhaps, to other generations, in the far distant future. From this +tackle-block at the top of the structure, the cable passed down to +another smaller pulley which was fastened at the base of the apparatus. +Through this pulley, the cable passed to the cylinder of a windlass +which was held to the ground by massive beams. This windlass which can +be operated by only two hands, multiplies man’s strength by means +of a series of cog-wheels. Although there is a gain in force, there is +of course a loss in velocity.</p> + +<p>“Look!” said the yellow-skinned man, as he gave the +crank a turn. “Look, Ñor Juan, with my strength alone, I +can raise and lower that massive block of stone. This is so nicely +arranged that I can control the ascent or descent of the stone by +inches. Thus one man below can arrange the two stones in place, while I +manipulate the apparatus from here.”</p> + +<p>Ñor Juan could but admire the man as he smiled in such a +peculiar manner. The curious people standing about made comments and +praised the yellow-skinned man for his work.</p> + +<p>“Who taught you the mechanism?” asked Ñor +Juan.</p> + +<p>“My father, my father who is now dead,” he replied, with +that same peculiar smile.</p> + +<p>“And who taught your father?”</p> + +<p>“Don Saturnino, the grandfather of Don Crisostomo.”</p> + +<p>“I did not know that Don Saturnino——”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he knew a good many things. Not only did he know how to +whip well and how to expose his workmen to the rays of the sun, but he +knew also how to awaken the sleeping and how to make those awake sleep. +In time, you will see what my father has taught me, you will +see!”</p> + +<p>And the yellow fellow smiled in a strange manner.</p> + +<p>At two eating stands, there was now being prepared a sumptuous and +abundant breakfast. However, on the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb94" +href="#pb94">94</a>]</span>table designated for the little ones of the +school, there was no wine, but instead a larger amount of fruit. In a +covered passage which joined the two stands, there were seats for the +musicians and a table covered with sweetmeats, candies and flasks of +water, ornamented with leaves and flowers, for the thirsty public.</p> + +<p>The crowd, resplendent in gay-colored clothes, was already fleeing +from the hot rays of the sun and gathering under the shade of the trees +or of the covering. The small boys climbed the trees near the place, in +order to get a better view of the ceremony, and looked with envy upon +the school children, who, clean and well dressed, were occupying a +place designated for them. The fathers of the school children were +enthusiastic. They, poor countrymen that they were, would have the +pleasure of seeing their children eat on a white table cloth, just like +the curate and the <i>Alcalde</i>. Merely to think of it was enough to +drive away their hunger.</p> + +<p>Soon strains of music were heard in the distance. A promiscuous +crowd of persons of all ages and dress was preceding the band. The +yellow-looking man was uneasy and was examining the whole apparatus. A +curious countryman was also following his glances and was observing +every movement he made. This countryman was Elias, who had also come to +attend the ceremony. His hat and his style of dress almost concealed +his identity. He had secured the best possible place for himself, right +up close to the crane, on the edge of the excavation.</p> + +<p>With the band of music came the <i>Alcalde</i>, the officials of the +town, the friars, with the exception of Father Dámaso, and the +Spanish employees of the Government. Ibarra was conversing with the <i> +Alcalde</i>, for they had become quite friendly from the time the young +man paid him some high compliments on his insignia, decorations and +cordon. Pride in belonging to an aristocratic family was a weakness of +His Excellency. Captain Tiago, the <i>alferez</i> and several wealthy +persons, with their shining silk hats, walked along, surrounded by a +group of youngsters. Father Salví followed, the same as ever, +silent and pensive.</p> + +<p>The young man could feel his heart beat as they approached <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb95" href="#pb95">95</a>]</span>the designated +place. Instinctively, he glanced at the strange-looking scaffolding +which had been raised there. He saw, too, the yellow-looking man who +saluted him with respect, and, for a moment, Ibarra fixed his eyes on +him. To his surprise, Ibarra also discovered Elias on the edge of the +excavation. He gave the young pilot a significant look, letting him +understand that he remembered what he had said in the church.</p> + +<p>The curate put on his sacerdotal vestments and began the ceremony. +The one-eyed sacristan mayor held the book and a choir boy was charged +with the water-sprinkler and the vessel of blessed water. The others +who stood around about, their heads uncovered, maintained a deep +silence. In spite of the fact that Father Salví read in a low +tone, it could be noticed that his voice trembled.</p> + +<p>In the meantime the articles, such as manuscripts, newspapers, +medals and coins, which were to be placed in the corner stone had been +enclosed in a little glass box, and hermetically sealed in a leaden +cylinder.</p> + +<p>“Señor Ibarra, do you wish to put the box in its place? +The curate awaits it,” said the <i>Alcalde</i> to Ibarra.</p> + +<p>“I would do so with much pleasure,” replied he, +“but I would be usurping the honorable duty of the Señor +Notary. The Notary ought to attest the act.”</p> + +<p>The Notary took it seriously, descended the carpeted stairs to the +bottom of the excavation and, with fitting solemnity, deposited the box +in the hollow which had been made in the stone. The curate then took up +the sprinkler and sprinkled the stones with holy water.</p> + +<p>The time had now come for each one to put his trowelful of mortar on +the surface of the stone, which lay in the ditch, so that the other +stone might fit upon it and be made to adhere to it.</p> + +<p>Ibarra presented the <i>Alcalde</i> with a trowel, upon whose wide +silver blade was engraved the date. But His Excellency first delivered +an address in Spanish.</p> + +<p>“Citizens of San Diego,” he said in a solemn tone. +“I have the honor to preside at a ceremony the importance of +which you already understand. A school is being founded. The school is +the base of society. The school is the book in which is written the +future of the people. Show me <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb96" href= +"#pb96">96</a>]</span>the schools of a people and I will tell you what +those people are.</p> + +<p>“Citizens of San Diego! Thank God that he has given you +virtuous priests; and the Mother Country that she untiringly diffuses +her civilization over these fertile islands, protected by her glorious +flag. Thank God that she has had pity for you, bringing you these +humble priests that they may enlighten you and teach you the divine +word. Thank the Government for the great sacrifices it has made, makes +now and will make in the future for you and your sons.</p> + +<p>“And now that the first stone of this great edifice has been +blessed, I, <i>Alcalde Mayor</i> of this province, in the name of His +Majesty, the King, whom God guard, King of the Spains, in the name of +the illustrious Spanish Government, and under its spotless and ever +victorious banner, I consecrate this act and begin the building of this +school.</p> + +<p>“Citizens of San Diego! Long live the King! Long live Spain! +Long live the Church! Long live the priests! Long live the Catholic +religion!”</p> + +<p>“<i>Viva! Viva!</i>” replied the others. “Long +live the <i>Alcalde</i>!”</p> + +<p>The <i>Alcalde</i> majestically descended to the accompaniment of +the music which had begun to play. He placed some trowels of mortar on +the stone and with equal majesty ascended the stairs.</p> + +<p>The Government employees applauded.</p> + +<p>Ibarra offered another silver trowel to the curate, who, after +fixing his eyes on him for a moment, descended slowly to the bottom of +the excavation. When about half way down the stairs, he raised his eyes +to look at the stone which hung suspended in the air by the powerful +cables, but he only looked at it for a second and then descended. He +did the same as the <i>Alcalde</i> had done, but this time more +applause was heard, for the Government employees were assisted by the +other friars and Captain Tiago.</p> + +<p>Father Salví seemed to be searching for some one to whom to +hand the trowel. He looked with hesitation toward Maria Clara, but, +changing his mind, he offered <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb97" href= +"#pb97">97</a>]</span>it to the Notary. The latter, for the sake of +gallantry, approached Maria Clara, who declined it with a smile. The +friars, the Government employees and the <i>alferez</i>, one after +another went down and repeated the ceremony. Captain Tiago was not +forgotten.</p> + +<p>Ibarra had been omitted. He was about to order the yellow man to +lower the other stone, when the curate remembered him. In a pleasant +tone and, with an affectation of familiarity, he said to him. +“Aren’t you going to put on your trowelful, Señor +Ibarra?”</p> + +<p>“I would be like the fellow who made the stew and then ate +it,” replied the young man in the same tone.</p> + +<p>“O, go on!” said the <i>Alcalde</i>, giving him a gentle +push. “If you don’t, I will order them not to lower the +stone and then we will have to wait here till Judgment Day.”</p> + +<p>So terrible a threat forced Ibarra to obey. He exchanged the small +silver trowel for a larger iron one, which made some of the people +smile. He advanced quietly and descended the stairs. Elias looked at +him with an indescribable expression. If you had seen him, you would +have thought that all his life was concentrated in his eyes. The yellow +man looked down into the abyss opening at his feet.</p> + +<p>Ibarra, after glancing at the stone which hung over his head, and +then at Elias and the yellow man, said to Ñor Juan in a +trembling voice: “Give me the bucket of mortar and find another +trowel for me above.”</p> + +<p>The young man stood alone. Elias was no longer looking at him; his +eyes instead were riveted on the yellow man’s hand, while the +latter leaned over the ditch and followed with anxiety the movements of +Ibarra.</p> + +<p>The noise of the trowel removing a mass of sand and lime was heard, +accompanied by the low murmur of the employees who were congratulating +the <i>Alcalde</i> on his address.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there was a frightful creaking. The pulley which was tied +to the base of the crane jumped and then the windlass struck the +apparatus like a battering-ram. The timbers swayed, ropes flew into the +air and, in a second, all came down with a terrible crash. A cloud of +dust was raised, and a thousand cries filled the air. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb98" href="#pb98">98</a>]</span>Nearly all fled; a +few hurried to the ditch. Only Maria Clara and Father Salví +remained in their places without moving, both pale and silent.</p> + +<p>When the cloud of dust had partially cleared away, Ibarra could be +seen standing among a mass of beams, bamboos, and cables, between the +windlass and the massive stone, which in its descent had shaken and +crushed everything. The young man was still holding the trowel in his +hand, his eyes staring with fright at the dead body of a man which was +lying at his feet, half buried under the timbers.</p> + +<p>“Are you hurt?—Are you still alive? For God’s sake +speak!” said some of the employees, full of terror.</p> + +<p>“Miracle! a miracle!” cried some.</p> + +<p>“Come and remove the body of this unfortunate man,” said +Ibarra, as if awakening from a dream.</p> + +<p>On hearing his voice, Maria Clara felt her strength giving way and +she fell, half fainting, into the arms of her friends.</p> + +<p>Great confusion reigned. Everybody was talking, gesticulating, and +running from one side to the other, up and down the stairs, all +stupefied and full of consternation.</p> + +<p>“Who is the dead man? Is he still alive?” asked the <i> +alferez</i>.</p> + +<p>The body was identified as the yellow workman who had been standing +beside the windlass.</p> + +<p>“Let proceedings be brought against the superintendent of the +work,” was the first thing that the <i>Alcalde</i> said.</p> + +<p>They examined the body, felt of the heart, but it was no longer +beating. The blow had fallen on the head and blood was oozing from the +nose, ears and mouth. Some strange marks were seen on the man’s +neck. There were four deep dents on one side and a single but deeper +one on the other. It looked as though an iron hand had grasped it like +a pair of pinchers.</p> + +<p>The priests warmly congratulated the young man and shook his +hand.</p> + +<p>“When I think that only a few moments ago I was standing +there,” said one of the employees. “Say! If I had been the +last! <i>Jesús!</i>” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb99" +href="#pb99">99</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“It makes my hair stand on end,” said another, who was +bald.</p> + +<p>Ibarra had departed, to ascertain the condition of Maria Clara.</p> + +<p>“Let this not prevent the festival from continuing,” +said the <i>Alcalde</i>. “God be praised! The dead man is neither +a priest nor a Spaniard! Your escape must be celebrated! Just +think—if the stone had fallen on you!”</p> + +<p>“There is such a thing as a presentiment!” said the +Notary. “I said so. Señor Ibarra was reluctant to descend. +I saw it!”</p> + +<p>“Let the festival go on! Give us some music! Weeping will not +bring the dead man to life. Captain, serve warrants right here! Let the +clerk of the tribunal come. Arrest the superintendent of the +work!”</p> + +<p>“Put him in the stocks!”</p> + +<p>“Put him in the stocks! Eh? Some music, music! Put the <i> +maestrillo</i> in the stocks.”</p> + +<p>“Señor Alcalde,” replied Ibarra gravely, +“if weeping cannot bring the dead man back to life, neither can +anything be gained by putting a man in prison when we do not know that +he is culpable. I will give bail for him and ask that he be given +liberty for some days at least.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well! But such a misfortune must not be +repeated!”</p> + +<p>All kinds of comments were circulating among the people. The theory +that it was a miracle was already accepted. Father Salví, +however, seemed to rejoice very little over the miracle, which the +people attributed to a saint of his order and of his parish.</p> + +<p>There were some who claimed to have seen, as the crane was falling, +a figure dressed in black like the Franciscans, go down in the ditch. +It was without doubt San Diego himself. It was supposed, too, that +Ibarra had heard mass and that the yellow man had not. It was all as +clear as the light of the sun.</p> + +<p>Ibarra went home to change his clothes.</p> + +<p>“Hm! Bad beginning,” said Old Tasio as he left the +place.</p> + +<p>Ibarra had just finished dressing when a servant announced that a +countryman was asking for him. Supposing <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb100" href="#pb100">100</a>]</span>that it was one of his laborers, +the young man ordered that they show him into his study, which also +served as a library and a chemical laboratory. But, to his great +surprise, he met the muscular figure of the mysterious Elias.</p> + +<p>“You recently saved my life,” said he in <span class= +"corr" id="xd0e2621" title="Source: Tagalo">Tagalog</span>, at once +comprehending Ibarra’s movement. “I have paid you only half +of the debt, and you are not indebted to me; rather the contrary. I +have come to ask a favor of you....”</p> + +<p>“Speak out!” replied the young man, in the same language +and somewhat surprised at the gravity of the peasant.</p> + +<p>For some seconds, Elias looked fixedly into Ibarra’s eyes and +then replied: “If human justice should ever wish to clear up this +mystery, I beg of you not to speak to any one about the warning that I +gave you in the church.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be troubled about that,” replied the young +man with a certain note of displeasure in his voice. “I know that +they are hunting you, but I am no informer.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, it is not for my sake, it is not for me!” exclaimed +Elias, not without some pride. “It is for your sake. I have +nothing to fear from men.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra’s surprise increased. The tone in which the countryman +was speaking was new to him and did not seem to be in accord either +with his state or his fortune.</p> + +<p>“What do you mean?” asked Ibarra, interrogating the +mysterious man with his look.</p> + +<p>“I do not speak in enigmas; I try to express myself clearly. +For your greater security, it is necessary that your enemies think you +unsuspecting and off your guard.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra stepped back.</p> + +<p>“My enemies? Have I enemies?”</p> + +<p>“All of us have, sir, all from the lowest insect to man, from +the poorest to the richest and most powerful. Enmity is the law of +life. You have enemies in the highest and in the lowest ranks. You are +planning a great undertaking; you have a past; your father, your +grandfather had enemies because they had passion. In life it is not +criminals who provoke the most hatred, but rather honorable +men.”</p> + +<p>“Do you know my enemies?” <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb101" href="#pb101">101</a>]</span></p> + +<p>Elias did not reply at once, but meditated.</p> + +<p>“I knew one, the one who has died,” he replied. +“Last night I discovered that something was being plotted against +you, through some words that were exchanged between him and an unknown +man who lost himself in the crowd. ‘The fish will not eat this +one as they did his father; you will see to-morrow,’ said he. +These words attracted my attention, not only on account of their +meaning but because they were spoken by this man, who only a few days +ago had presented himself to the superintendent of the work with the +express desire that he be given charge of the work of placing the +corner stone. He did not ask for a large wage, but made a great show of +his knowledge. I had no sufficient reasons to attribute evil designs to +him, but something told me that my suspicions were right. For this +reason, in order to warn you, I chose a moment and an occasion when you +could not ask me any questions. You already know the rest.”</p> + +<p>Elias was then silent for some moments; yet Ibarra did not reply nor +utter a word. He was meditating.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry that the man is dead,” he replied at last. +“We might have been able to learn something more about it from +him.”</p> + +<p>“If he had lived he would have escaped from the trembling hand +of blind, human justice. God has now judged him! God has killed him! +Let God be the only judge!”</p> + +<p>Crisostomo looked a moment at the man who was speaking to him in +this manner. He noticed that his muscular arms were covered with +bruises and black and blue spots.</p> + +<p>“Do you also believe in the miracle version of the +affair?” he said, smiling—“this miracle of which the +people speak?”</p> + +<p>“If I believed in miracles, I would not believe in God. I +would believe in a deified man. In fact, I would believe that man had +created God after his image and likeness,” he replied solemnly. +“But I believe in Him. More than once I have felt His hand. When +all was falling headlong, threatening destruction for everything which +was in the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb102" href= +"#pb102">102</a>]</span>place, I Held the criminal. I put myself by his +side. He was struck and I am safe and sound.”</p> + +<p>“You? So that you...?”</p> + +<p>“Yes! I held him when he wanted to escape, once he had begun +his fatal work. I saw his crime. I say: ‘Let God be the only +judge among men. Let Him be the only one who has the right to take away +life. Let man never think of substituting himself for him!<span class= +"corr" id="xd0e2669" title="Not in source">’</span>”</p> + +<p>“And, still you this time....”</p> + +<p>“No!” interrupted Elias, foreseeing the objection that +he was going to raise. “It is not the same thing. When a man as +judge condemns another to death or destroys his future forever, he does +it with impunity and makes use of the force of other men to carry out +his sentence. Yet, after all, the sentence may be wrong and unjust. But +I, in exposing the criminal to the same danger which he had prepared +for others, ran the same risks. I did not kill him. I allowed the hand +of God to kill him.”</p> + +<p>“Do you not believe in chance?”</p> + +<p>“To believe in chance is like believing in miracles. Both +theories suppose that God does not know the future. What is a casualty? +A happening which absolutely nobody knows beforehand. What is a +miracle? A contradiction, a contortion of the laws of nature. Lack of +foresight and contradiction in the All Knowing, who directs the +machinery of the world, are two great imperfections.”</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” Ibarra asked again, with a certain dread. +“Have you studied?”</p> + +<p>“I have had to believe in God a great deal because I have lost +my faith in men,” replied the pilot, evading the question.</p> + +<p>Ibarra thought that he understood this man; young and proscribed, he +disregarded human justice; denied the right of man to judge his equals, +he protested against power and superiority of certain classes of men +over others.</p> + +<p>“But you must admit the necessity of human justice, however +imperfect it may be,” he replied. “God, although he has +ministers on the earth, cannot, that is to say, cannot clearly give his +judgment upon the millions of contentions which are stirred up by our +passions. It <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb103" href= +"#pb103">103</a>]</span>is necessary, it is just, that a man should +sometimes judge his fellows.”</p> + +<p>“For good, yes; for bad, no. To correct and improve, yes; but +not to destroy, for if he fails in his judgment, there is no power that +can remedy the evil that has been done. But,” he added, changing +his tone, “this discussion is beyond and above me, and I am +keeping you from those who are now awaiting you. But do not forget what +I have just said: You have enemies. Take care of yourself for the good +of your country!” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb104" href= +"#pb104">104</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch17" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XVII.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The Banquet.</h2> + +<p>There, under the shade of the decorated pavilion, the great men of +the province were banqueting. The <i>Alcalde</i> occupied one end of +the table; Ibarra, the other. On the young man’s right sat Maria +Clara, and on his left, the Notary. Captain Tiago, the <i>alferez</i>, +the <i>gobernadorcillo</i>, the friars, the employees, and the few +señoritas who were present were seated, not according to rank +but according to their own fancy.</p> + +<p>The banquet was very animated, but, before it was half over, a +messenger with a telegram came in search of Captain Tiago. The Captain +asked permission to read the message, and naturally all begged of him +to do so.</p> + +<p>The worthy Captain at first knit his eyebrows; and then raised them. +His face became pale, and then brightened up. Doubling up the sheet of +paper hurriedly, he arose.</p> + +<p>“Gentlemen,” said he, confused, “His Excellency, +the Governor General, is coming this afternoon to honor my +house.”</p> + +<p>And then he started on a run, taking with him the telegram and the +napkin, but not his hat. All sorts of questions and exclamations were +shouted after him. The announcement of the coming of the <i> +tulisanes</i> could not have had a greater effect. “But listen! +When does he come? Tell us about it! His Excellency!” But Captain +Tiago was already far away.</p> + +<p>“His Excellency is coming and will be a guest at Captain +Tiago’s house!” exclaimed some one, without considering +that the Captain’s daughter and future son-in-law were +present.</p> + +<p>“The choice could not have been a better one,” replied +another.</p> + +<p>The friars looked at each other. Their expressions <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb105" href="#pb105">105</a>]</span>seemed to say: +“The Governor General is committing another of his errors, +offending us in this way. He ought to be the guest of the +convent.” But despite the fact that they thought this, they all +kept silent and no one of them expressed his opinion.</p> + +<p>“Even yesterday he was speaking to me about it,” said +the <i>Alcalde</i>, “but, at that time, His Excellency was not +decided.”</p> + +<p>“Do you know, Your Excellency, Señor Alcalde, how long +the Governor General intends to remain here?” asked the <i> +alferez</i>, a little uneasy.</p> + +<p>“No, not positively. His Excellency likes +surprises.”</p> + +<p>“Here come some other telegrams!”</p> + +<p>The messages were for the <i>Alcalde</i>, the <i>alferez</i>, and +the <i>gobernadorcillo</i>, and announced the same thing to each of +them. The friars noticed that none came addressed to the curate.</p> + +<p>“His Excellency will arrive at four o’clock this +afternoon, gentlemen,” said the <i>Alcalde</i> solemnly. +“We can finish at our leisure.”</p> + +<p>Leonidas, in the pass of Thermopylæ, could not have said with +better grace “To-night we will dine with Pluto.”</p> + +<p>“I notice the absence of our great preacher,” said one +of the government employees timidly. The speaker had an inoffensive +look and before this had not opened his mouth, except to eat, during +the entire morning.</p> + +<p>All who knew the life of Crisostomo’s father twitched their +eyes significantly and seemed to say by their movements: “Go on! +It’s a bad beginning that you have made!” But others, more +benevolently disposed, replied: “He must be somewhat +fatigued.”</p> + +<p>“What? Somewhat fatigued!” exclaimed the <i>alferez</i>. +“Why, he must be exhausted. What did you think of the sermon this +morning?”</p> + +<p>“Superb, gigantic!” said the Notary.</p> + +<p>“To be able to speak like Father Dámaso, a man needs +lungs,” observed Father Manuel Martin.</p> + +<p>The Augustine did not concede more than lung power.</p> + +<p>“And such easiness of expression,” added Father +Salví.</p> + +<p>“Do you know that Señor Ibarra has the best cook in the +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb106" href= +"#pb106">106</a>]</span>province,” remarked the <i>Alcalde</i>, +cutting off the conversation.</p> + +<p>“So they say,” replied one of the Government employees, +“but his fair neighbor does not wish to do honor to his table, +for she scarcely takes a mouthful.”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara blushed.</p> + +<p>“I thank you, Senor.... You occupy yourself too much about me +... but ...” she said timidly.</p> + +<p>“But your presence honors him sufficiently,” concluded +the gallant <i>Alcalde</i>. Then turning to Father Salví: +“Father Curate, I notice that you have been silent and pensive +all day long.”</p> + +<p>“It is my nature,” muttered the Franciscan. “I +would rather listen than talk.”</p> + +<p>“Your Reverence seeks always to gain and never to lose,” +replied the <i>alferez</i>, in a joking manner.</p> + +<p>But Father Salví did not take it as a joke. His eyes flashed +a moment and he replied: “You know very well, Señor +Alferez, that, during these days, I am not the one who gains +most!”</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> overlooked the fling with a false laugh and +pretended not to hear it.</p> + +<p>“But, gentlemen, I do not understand how you can be talking +about gains and losses,” intervened the <i>Alcalde</i>. +“What will these amiable and discreet young women, who honor us +with their presence, think of us? To my mind, the young women are like +Æolian harps in the night. It is only necessary to lend an +attentive ear to hear them, for their unspeakable harmonies elevate the +soul to the celestial spheres of the infinite and of the +ideal....”</p> + +<p>“Your Excellency is a poet,” said the Notary gayly; and +both drained their wine glasses.</p> + +<p>“I cannot help it,” said the <i>Alcalde</i>, wiping his +lips. “The occasion, if it does not always make the thief, makes +the poet. In my youth I composed verses, and they certainly were not +bad ones.”</p> + +<p>“So Your Excellency has been unfaithful to the Muses, +deserting them for Themis.”</p> + +<p>“Psh!” What would you do? It has always been my dream to +run through the whole social scale. Yesterday I was gathering flowers, +and singing songs; to-day I hold <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb107" +href="#pb107">107</a>]</span>the wand of Justice and serve Humanity. +To-morrow....”</p> + +<p>“To-morrow Your Excellency will throw the wand into the fire +to warm yourself with it in the winter of life, and will then take a +portfolio in the Ministry,” added Father Sibyla.</p> + +<p>“Psh! Yes ... no.... To be a Minister is not precisely my +ideal. The unexpected always happens, though. A little villa in the +north of Spain to pass the summer in, a mansion in Madrid, and some +possessions in Andalusia for the winter.... We will live remembering +our dear Philippines.... Of me Voltaire will not say: ‘<i lang= +"fr">Nous n’avons jamais été chez ces peuples que +pour nous y enrichir et pour les calomnier.</i>’”</p> + +<p>The Government employees thought that His Excellency intended a joke +and they began to laugh to make a show of appreciating it. The friars +imitated them since they did not know that Voltaire was the +Volta-i-ré whom they had so often cursed and condemned to Hades. +Father Sibyla, however, recognized the name and assumed a serious air, +supposing that the <i>Alcalde</i> had uttered some heresy.</p> + +<p>Father Dámaso was waddling down the road. He was half +smiling, but in such a malignant manner, that on seeing him, Ibarra, +who was in the act of speaking, lost the thread of his remarks. All +were surprised to see Father Dámaso, but, excepting Ibarra, they +greeted him with marks of pleasure. They had already reached the last +course of the dinner, and the champagne was foaming in the glasses.</p> + +<p>Father Dámaso showed a little nervousness in his smile when +he saw Maria Clara seated on the right of Crisostomo. But, taking a +chair by the side of the <i>Alcalde</i>, he asked in the midst of a +significant silence: “Were you not talking about something, +señores? Continue!”</p> + +<p>“We were drinking a toast,” replied the <i>Alcalde</i>. +“Señor Ibarra was mentioning those who had aided him in +his philanthropic enterprise and was speaking of the architect when +Your Reverence....”</p> + +<p>“Well, I don’t understand architecture,” +interrupted Father Dámaso, “but architects and the dunces +who go to them make me laugh! You have an example right here. I drew +the plan for a church and it has been constructed <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb108" href="#pb108">108</a>]</span>perfectly: so an +English jeweler who was one day a guest at the convent told me. To +draught a plan, one need have but a small degree of +intelligence.”</p> + +<p>“However,” replied the <i>Alcalde</i>, seeing that +Ibarra was silent, “when we are dealing with certain edifices, +for example a school, we need a skilled man (<i>perito</i>).”</p> + +<p>“He who needs a <i>perito</i> is a <i>perrito</i> (little +dog)!” exclaimed Father Dámaso, with a scoff. “One +would have to be more of a brute than the natives, who erect their own +houses, if he did not know how to build four walls and put a covering +over them. That’s all that a school house is.”</p> + +<p>All looked toward Ibarra. But the young man, even if he did look +pale, kept on conversing with Maria Clara.</p> + +<p>“But Your Reverence should consider....”</p> + +<p>“Just look you,” continued the Franciscan without +allowing the <i>Alcalde</i> to speak. “See how one of our lay +brothers, the most stupid one we have, has built a good hospital, +handsome and cheap. It is well built and he did not pay more than eight +<i>cuartos</i> a day to those whom he employed even those who came from +other towns. That fellow knows how to treat them. He does not do like +many fools and <i>mesticillos</i><a class="noteref" id="xd0e2885src" +href="#xd0e2885">1</a> who spoil them by paying them three or four <i> +reales</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Does Your Reverence say that he only paid eight <i> +cuartos</i>? Impossible!” said the <i>Alcalde</i>, trying to +change the course of the conversation.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Señor; and those who brag of being good Spaniards +ought to imitate him. You can see very well now, since the Suez Canal +was opened, corruption has come here. Before, when we had to double the +Cape, there were not so many worthless people coming out here, nor did +Filipinos go abroad to be corrupted and spoiled.”</p> + +<p>“But, Father Dámaso!”</p> + +<p>“You know very well what the native is. As quickly as he +learns anything, he goes and becomes a doctor. All these ignoramuses +who go to Europe....”</p> + +<p>“But listen, Your Reverence ...” interrupted the <i> +Alcalde</i>, becoming uneasy at such harsh words.</p> + +<p>“They are all going to end as they merit,” he continued. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb109" href= +"#pb109">109</a>]</span>“The hand of God is upon them and one +must be blind not to see it. Even in this life, the fathers of such +vipers receive their punishment.... They die in prison, eh?”</p> + +<p>But he did not finish his remarks. Ibarra, his face flushing, had +been following him with his eyes. On hearing the allusion to his +father, he rose and, with a single bound, brought down his strong hand +on the head of the priest. Stunned with the blow, the friar fell on his +back.</p> + +<p>Full of astonishment and terror, no one dared to intervene.</p> + +<p>“Keep back!” cried the young man, with a menacing voice, +and brandishing a sharp knife in his hand. In the meantime, he held the +friar down with his foot on his neck. The latter was recovering +consciousness. “Let no one approach who does not want to +die!”</p> + +<p>Ibarra was beside himself. His body trembled, and his threatening +eyes almost burst from their sockets. Friar Dámaso struggled and +raised himself, but the young man, seizing him by the collar, shook him +till he fell on his knees and collapsed.</p> + +<p>“Señor Ibarra! Señor Ibarra!” cried +some.</p> + +<p>But nobody, not even the <i>alferez</i>, dared to approach the +glistening blade, considering the strength of the young man and the +state of his mind. All were paralyzed.</p> + +<p>“All of you people here have said nothing! Now the matter +concerns me! I have avoided him. God now brings him to me. Let God +judge!”</p> + +<p>The young man was breathing hard. With iron hand he held the +Franciscan down, and the latter struggled in vain to break loose.</p> + +<p>“My heart beats tranquilly. My hand is sure.”</p> + +<p>He looked about him and continued: “Is there among you any one +who does not love his father; any one who hates his memory, any one who +was born in disgrace and humiliation? See! Do you observe this silence? +Priest of a peaceful God, with your mouth full of sanctity and +religion, and a miserable heart, you could not have known what a father +is. You should have thought of your own! <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb110" href="#pb110">110</a>]</span>Do you see? Among this crowd which +you scorn, there is none such as you! You are judged!”</p> + +<p>The people around him made a stir, believing that he was going to +strike.</p> + +<p>“Back!” he again cried in a threatening voice. +“What? Do you fear that I would soil my hand with his impure +blood? Have I not told you that my heart beats tranquilly? Back from +us, all! Listen, priests, judges, you who think yourselves different +from other men, and who claim other rights for yourselves! Listen! My +father was an honorable man. Ask these people who venerate his memory. +My father was a good citizen. He sacrificed himself for me and for the +good of his country! His house was open. His table was ready for the +stranger or the exile who came to it in his misery. He was a good +Christian; he always did what was right. He never oppressed the +helpless, nor brought sorrow to the miserable and wretched. To this +man, he opened the door of his house. He had him sit at his table and +he called him his friend. What has he done in return? He has +calumniated him, persecuted him, has armed ignorance against him, +violating the sanctity of his office, has thrown him out of his tomb, +dishonored his memory, and persecuted him even in death’s repose. +And not content with that, he now persecutes his son. I have fled from +him, I have avoided his presence. You heard him this morning profane +the pulpit; you saw him point me out to the popular fanaticism; I said +nothing. Now he comes here in search of a quarrel. To your surprise, I +suffered in silence; but he again insults the sacred memory of my +father, that memory which every son holds dear.... You who are here, +you priests, you judges, have you seen your father watching over you +night and day and working for you? Have you seen him deprive himself of +you for your good? Have you seen your father die in prison, heart +broken, sighing for some one to caress him, searching for some being to +console him, alone in sickness, while you were in a foreign land? Have +you heard his name dishonored afterward? Have you found his tomb vacant +when you wished to pray upon it? No? You are silent. Then by that +silence you condemn him!” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb111" +href="#pb111">111</a>]</span></p> + +<p>He raised his arm; but a young maiden, quick as a flash, put herself +between them and with her delicate hands stopped the arm of the +avenger. It was Maria Clara.</p> + +<p>Ibarra looked at her with an expression that seemed to reflect +madness. Gradually, he loosened the vise-like fingers of his hand, +allowed the body of the Franciscan to fall, and dropped his knife upon +the ground. Covering his face, he fled through the crowd. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb112" href="#pb112">112</a>]</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e2885src" id="xd0e2885">1</a></span> Little <i>mestizos</i> or +half breeds. Used in contempt.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id="ch18" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XVIII.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The First Cloud.</h2> + +<p>The house of Captain Tiago was no less disturbed than the +imagination of the people. Maria Clara, refusing to listen to the +consolation of her aunt and foster sister, did nothing but weep. Her +father had forbidden her to speak to Ibarra until the priests should +absolve him from the excommunication which they had pronounced upon +him.</p> + +<p>Captain Tiago, though very busy preparing his house for the +reception of the Governor General, had been summoned to the +convent.</p> + +<p>“Don’t cry, my girl,” said Aunt Isabel as she +dusted off the mirrors. “They will certainly annul the +excommunication; they will write the Pope.... We will make a large +donation.... Father Dámaso had nothing more than a fainting +spell.... He is not dead.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t cry,” said Andeng to her, in a low voice. +“I will certainly arrange it so that you can speak to him. What +are the confessionals made for, if we are not expected to sin? +Everything is pardoned when one has told it to the curate.”</p> + +<p>Finally, Captain Tiago arrived. They scanned his face for an answer +to their many questions, but his expression announced too plainly his +dismay. The poor man was sweating, and passing his hand over his +forehead. He seemed unable to utter a word.</p> + +<p>“How is it, Santiago?” asked Aunt Isabel, anxiously.</p> + +<p>He answered her with a sigh and dried away a tear.</p> + +<p>“For God’s sake, speak! What has happened?”</p> + +<p>“What I had already feared!” he broke out finally half +crying. “All is lost! Father Dámaso orders that the +engagement be broken. If it is not broken off, I am condemned in this +life and in the next. They all tell me the same thing, even Father +Sibyla! I ought to shut the <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb113" href= +"#pb113">113</a>]</span>doors of my house and ... I owe him more than +fifty thousand <i>pesos</i>. I told the Fathers so, but they would take +no notice of it. ‘Which do you prefer to lose,’ they said +to me, ‘fifty thousand <i>pesos</i>, or your life and your +soul?’ Alas! <i>Ay! San Antonio!</i> If I had known it, if I had +known it!”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara was sobbing.</p> + +<p>“Do not cry, my daughter,” he added, turning to her. +“You are not like your mother. She never cried ... she never +cried except when she was whimsical just before your birth.... Father +Dámaso tells me that a relative of his has just arrived from +Spain ... and that he wants him to be your fiancé.”...</p> + +<p>Maria Clara stopped up her ears.</p> + +<p>“But, Santiago, are you out of your head?” cried Aunt +Isabel. “Speak to her now of another fiancé! Do you think +that your daughter can change lovers as easily as she changes her +dress?”</p> + +<p>“I was thinking the same thing, Isabel. Don Crisostomo is +rich.... The Spaniards only marry for love of money.... But what would +you have me do? They have threatened me with excommunication. They say +that I am in great peril: not only my soul, but also my body ... my +body, do you hear? My body!”</p> + +<p>“But you only give sorrow to your daughter. Are you not a +friend of the Archbishop? Why don’t you write him?”</p> + +<p>“The Archbishop is also a friar. The Archbishop does only what +the friars say. But, Maria, do not cry. The Governor General will come. +He will want to see you and your eyes are all inflamed.... Alas! I was +thinking what a happy afternoon I was going to pass.... Without this +misfortune, I would be the happiest of men and all would envy me.... +Calm yourself, my girl. I am more unfortunate than you and I do not +cry. You can have another and better fiancé, but I lose fifty +thousand <i>pesos</i>. Ah! Virgin of Antipolo! If I could only have +some luck to-night!”</p> + +<p>Noises, detonations, the rumbling of carriages, the galloping of +horses, and a band playing the <i>Marcha Real</i> announced the arrival +of His Excellency, the Governor <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb114" +href="#pb114">114</a>]</span>General of the Philippine Islands. Maria +Clara ran to hide in her bedroom.... Poor girl! Gross hands were +playing with her heart, ignorant of the delicacy of its fibers.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, the house filled with people. Loud steps, commands, +and the clanking of sabers and swords resounded on all sides. The +afflicted maiden was half kneeling before an engraving of the Virgin, a +picture representing her in that attitude of painful solitude, known +only to Delaroche, as if she had been surprised on returning from the +sepulchre of her Son. But Maria Clara was not thinking of the grief of +that Mother; she was thinking of her own. With her head resting on her +breast and her hands on the floor, she looked like a lily bent by the +storm. A future, cherished for years in her dreams; a future whose +illusions, born in her infancy and nursed through her youth, gave form +to the cells of her being—that future was now to be blotted from +the mind and heart by a single word!</p> + +<p>Maria Clara was as good and as pious a Christian as her aunt. The +thought of an excommunication terrified her. The threat to destroy the +peace of her father demanded that she sacrifice her love. She felt the +entire strength of that affection which until now she had not known. It +was like a river which glides along smoothly; its banks carpeted with +fragrant flowers, its bed formed by fine sand, the wind scarcely +rippling its surface, so quiet and peaceful that you would say that its +waters were dead; until suddenly its channel is pent up, ragged rocks +obstruct its course, and the entangled trunks of trees form a dike. +Then the river roars; it rises up; its waves boil; it is lashed into +foam, beats against the rocks and rushes into the abyss.</p> + +<p>She wanted to pray, but who can pray without hope? One prays when +there is hope. When there is none, we surrender ourselves to God and +wail. “My God!” cried her heart, “why shouldst thou +separate me thus from him I love? Why deny me the love of others? Thou +dost not deny me the sun, nor the air, nor dost thou hide the heavens +from my sight. Why dost thou deny me love, when it is possible to live +without sun, without air, and without the heavens, but without love, +never?” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb115" href= +"#pb115">115</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Mother, mother,” she was moaning.</p> + +<p>Aunt Isabel came to take her from her grief. Some of her girl +friends had arrived and the Governor General also desired to talk with +her.</p> + +<p>“Aunt, tell them that I am ill!” begged the frightened +maiden. “They wish to make me play the piano and sing.”</p> + +<p>“Your father has promised it. You are not going to go back on +your father?”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara arose, looked at her aunt, clasped her beautiful arms +about her and murmured: “Oh, if I had ...”</p> + +<p>But, without finishing the sentence, she dried her tears and began +to make her toilet. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb116" href= +"#pb116">116</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch19" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XIX.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">His Excellency.</h2> + +<p>“I want to speak with that young man,” said His +Excellency to an adjutant. “He has awakened my +interest.”</p> + +<p>“They have already gone to look for him, General! But there is +a young man here from Manila who insists on being introduced. We have +told him that Your Excellency has no time and that you have not come to +give audiences, but to see the town and the procession. But he has +replied that Your Excellency always has time to dispense +justice.”</p> + +<p>His Excellency turned to the <i>Alcalde</i> as if in doubt.</p> + +<p>“If I am not mistaken,” said the latter, making a slight +bow, “it is a young man who this morning had a difficulty with +Father Dámaso about the sermon.”</p> + +<p>“Still another? Has this friar undertaken to disturb the +province, or does he think that he is in command here? Tell the young +man to come in!”</p> + +<p>His Excellency was walking nervously from one end of the <i>sala</i> +to the other.</p> + +<p>In the lower part of the house, in the ante-room, were several +Spaniards, mingled with army officers and officials of the town of San +Diego and some of the neighboring villages. They were grouped in little +circles and were conversing about one thing and another. All of the +friars were there except Father Dámaso, and they wanted to go in +and pay their respects to His Excellency.</p> + +<p>“His Excellency, the Governor General, begs Your Reverences to +wait a moment,” said the adjutant. “Walk in, young +man!”</p> + +<p>The young man from Manila entered the <i>sala</i>, pale and +trembling.</p> + +<p>Everybody was surprised. His Excellency must be irritated to dare to +make the friars wait. Father Sibyla <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb117" href="#pb117">117</a>]</span>said: “I have nothing to say +to him.... I am losing time here!”</p> + +<p>“It’s the same with me,” said an Augustine. +“Shall we go?”</p> + +<p>“Would it not be better for us to find out what he +thinks?” asked Father Salví. “We would avoid a +scandal ... and ... we would be able to call to his mind his duty to +... the Church.”</p> + +<p>“Your Reverences can walk in, if you wish,” announced +the adjutant, as he escorted out the young man, whose face was now, +however, glowing with satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Friar Sibyla entered first. Behind him came Father Salví, +Father Manuel Martin and the other priests. They all humbly saluted the +Governor General, with the exception of Father Sibyla, who preserved +even in his bow, an air of superiority. Father Salví, on the +contrary, almost touched the floor with his head.</p> + +<p>“Which of Your Reverences is Father Dámaso?” +asked His Excellency unexpectedly, without having them sit down, or +even asking about their health, and without addressing them with any of +those courteous phrases which are customary with such high +personages.</p> + +<p>“Father Dámaso is not among us, señor,” +replied Father Sibyla, rather dryly.</p> + +<p>“Your Excellency’s servant lies ill in bed,” added +Father Salví meekly. “After having the pleasure of +saluting you and of inquiring about the health of Your Excellency, as +befits all the good servants of the King and all persons of good +education, we also come in the name of the respectful servant of Your +Excellency who has the misfortune....”</p> + +<p>“Oh,” interrupted the Governor General, as he turned a +chair around on one leg and smiled nervously. “If all the +servants of My Excellency were like His Reverence Father Dámaso, +I would prefer to serve My Excellency myself.”</p> + +<p>The Reverences did not know how to respond to this interruption.</p> + +<p>“Take a seat, Your Reverences!” he added after a short +pause, softening his tone a little.</p> + +<p>Captain Tiago came in dressed in a frock coat and walking <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb118" href="#pb118">118</a>]</span>on +tip-toes. He was leading Maria Clara by the hand. The young maiden was +trembling when she entered, but notwithstanding she made a graceful and +ceremonious bow.</p> + +<p>“Is this your daughter?” asked the Governor General, +somewhat surprised.</p> + +<p>“And Your Excellency’s, my General,” replied +Captain Tiago seriously.<a class="noteref" id="xd0e3094src" href= +"#xd0e3094">1</a></p> + +<p>The <i>Alcalde</i> and the adjutants opened wide their eyes, but His +Excellency did not lose his gravity. He extended his hand to the young +maiden and said to her affably: “Happy are the fathers who have +daughters like you, señorita. They have spoken to me about you +with respect and consideration.... I have desired to see you and to +thank you for your pretty deed of to-day. I am informed of all, and +when I write to His Majesty’s Government I will not forget your +generous conduct. In the meantime, señorita, allow me in the +name of His Majesty the King whom I represent here and who loves to see +peace and tranquillity among his subjects, and in my own name, that of +a father who also has daughters of your age, allow me to extend to you +most sincere thanks and propose your name for some mark of +recognition.”</p> + +<p>“Señor ...” replied Maria Clara, trembling.</p> + +<p>His Excellency guessed what she wanted to say, and replied: +“It is well enough, señorita, that you are satisfied in +your own conscience with the mere esteem of your own people. The +testimony of one’s people is the highest reward and we ought not +to ask more. But, however, I will not let pass this excellent +opportunity to show you that, if justice knows how to punish, she also +knows how to reward and is not always blind.”</p> + +<p>“Señor Don Juan Crisostomo awaits Your +Excellency’s orders,” announced the adjutant in a loud +voice.</p> + +<p>Maria Clara trembled.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” exclaimed the Governor General. “Permit me, +señorita, to express the desire to see you again before I leave +town. I still have some very important things to say to you. +Señor <i>Alcalde</i>, Your Lordship will accompany <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb119" href="#pb119">119</a>]</span>me for a walk +after the conference which I will hold alone with Señor +Ibarra.”</p> + +<p>“Your Excellency will permit us,” said Father +Salví meekly, “to inform you that Señor Ibarra is +excommunicated ...”</p> + +<p>His Excellency interrupted him saying: “I am glad that I have +nothing more to deplore than the condition of Father Dámaso, for +whom I sincerely wish a complete recovery, because at his age a voyage +to Spain for his health would not be pleasant. But this depends on him +... and in the meantime, may God preserve the health of Your +Reverences.”</p> + +<p>They retired one after the other.</p> + +<p>“We will see who will make the journey first,” said a +Franciscan.</p> + +<p>“I am going off now right away!” said Father Sibyla, +with indignation.</p> + +<p>“And we are going back to our provinces, too,” said the +Augustins.</p> + +<p>They could not endure that through the fault of a Franciscan His +Excellency had received them coldly.</p> + +<p>In the entrance hall they met Ibarra, their host only a few hours +ago. They exchanged no salutations, but their looks were eloquent.</p> + +<p>The <i>Alcalde</i>, on the contrary, when the friars had +disappeared, greeted the young man and extended his hand to him in a +familiar way. But the arrival of the adjutant, who was looking for +Ibarra, did not give them an opportunity to converse.</p> + +<p>Ibarra was dressed in deep mourning. He presented himself in a calm +manner, and bowed profoundly, despite the fact that the sight of the +friars had not seemed a good omen for him.</p> + +<p>The Governor General advanced a few steps. “It gives me great +satisfaction to shake your hand. Grant me your entire +confidence.”</p> + +<p>“Señor ... such kindness...!”</p> + +<p>“Your surprise offends me. It indicates that you did not +expect a good reception from me. That is doubting my justice!” +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb120" href="#pb120">120</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“A friendly reception, señor, for an insignificant +subject like myself, is not justice, it is a favor.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well!” said His Excellency, sitting down and +pointing out a seat for Ibarra. “Let us speak frankly. I am very +much pleased with your action and I have already proposed to His +Majesty’s Government that they grant you an insignia for your +philanthropic intention of erecting a school.... If you had asked me, I +would have attended the ceremony with a great deal of pleasure and +perhaps the unpleasantness would have been avoided.”</p> + +<p>“My idea of erecting a school seems to me so +insignificant,” replied the young man, “that I did not +think it an occasion worthy of taking the attention of Your Excellency +from your many duties and cares. Then, too, it was my duty to first +address the highest authority of the province.”</p> + +<p>His Excellency made a bow of satisfaction and adopting a still more +intimate manner, continued:</p> + +<p>“In regard to the unpleasantness which you have had with +Father Dámaso, have no fear nor regret. I will not touch a hair +of your head while I govern these Islands. And in regard to the +excommunication, I will speak to the Archbishop, for it is necessary +for us to adapt ourselves to circumstances. Here, we cannot laugh about +these things in public as we do in Spain or in cultured Europe. +Nevertheless, be more prudent in the future. You have put yourself in +opposition to the religious corporations, which, on account of your +position and wealth, need to be respected. But I will protect you, +because I like good sons, I like to see a person respect the honor of +his father. I, too, love my father, and as sure as there is a God, I +know what I would have done had I been in your place....”</p> + +<p>And quickly turning the conversation, he asked: “You have told +me that you come from Europe; were you in Madrid?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, señor; for some months.”</p> + +<p>“You have perhaps heard of my family?”</p> + +<p>“Your Excellency had just left when I had the honor to be +presented to it.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb121" href= +"#pb121">121</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“And why, then, did you come here without bringing some letter +of introduction?”</p> + +<p>“Señor,” replied Ibarra bowing, “because I +do not come directly from Spain, and because, having heard of Your +Excellency’s character, I thought that a letter of introduction +would not only be useless, but even offensive. All Filipinos are +recommended to you.”</p> + +<p>A smile appeared on the lips of the old officer and he replied +slowly, as if weighing and measuring his words:</p> + +<p>“It flatters me to learn that you think so ... and ... so it +ought to be. However, young man, you ought to know what loads we bear +upon our shoulders here in the Philippines. Here, we, old army +officers, have to do and be everything: King, Secretary of State, of +War, of Agriculture, of Internal Affairs and of Justice. The worst part +of it is the fact that in regard to everything we have to consult our +distant Mother Country, which approves or rejects our propositions, +according to circumstances, sometimes blindly. And you know how we +Spaniards say: ‘Grasp much, get little.’ Then, too, we come +here ignorant of the country and we leave it as soon as we begin to +know it. With you I can be frank, for it would be useless to appear +otherwise. In Spain, where each branch of the Government has its own +Minister, born and brought up in the country, where they have the press +and public opinion, the opposition is open and before the eyes of the +Government, and shows up its faults; yet, even there, all is imperfect +and defective. And when you consider the conditions here, it is a +wonder that all is not upset, with all those advantages lacking, and +with the opposition working in the dark. Good intentions and wishes are +not wanting in us governing officials, but we find ourselves obliged to +make use of eyes and arms which frequently we do not know, and which, +perhaps, instead of serving the country, serve only their own +interests. That is not our fault; it is the fault of circumstances. You +arouse my interest and I do not want our present system of government +to prejudice you in any way. I cannot watch everything, nor can I +attend to all. Can I be useful to you in any way? Have you anything to +request?”</p> + +<p>Ibarra meditated. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb122" href= +"#pb122">122</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Señor,” he replied, “my greatest desire is +the happiness of my country, a happiness due to the efforts of our +Mother Country and to the efforts of my fellow countrymen, united with +the eternal bonds of a common interest and common object. What I ask +the Government can only give after many years of continuous work and +proper reforms.”</p> + +<p>His Excellency looked at him for several seconds with a look which +Ibarra met naturally, without timidity and without boldness.</p> + +<p>“You are the first <i>man</i> with whom I have spoken in this +country,” he exclaimed grasping his hand.</p> + +<p>“Your Excellency has only seen those who lead a grovelling +existence in the city. You have not seen the calumniated hovels of our +towns. If you had, you would have seen true men, if generous hearts and +simple manners make true men.”</p> + +<p>The Governor General arose and paced the <i>sala</i> from one side +to the other.</p> + +<p>“Señor Ibarra,” he exclaimed, stopping a moment. +The young man arose. “I will probably leave here within a month. +Your education and your mode of thinking are not for this country. Sell +what you possess, get your trunk ready and come with me to Europe. That +climate will be better for you.”</p> + +<p>“I shall cherish all my life the memory of Your +Excellency’s kindness,” replied Ibarra, moved by what the +Governor General had said. “But I ought to live in the country +where my fathers have lived....”</p> + +<p>“Where they have died, you should say, to speak more exactly. +Believe me! I possibly know your country better than you do +yourself.... Ah! Now I remember,” he exclaimed changing the tone +of his voice. “You are going to marry a lovely girl and I am +keeping you here! Go, go to her side, and that you may have greater +liberty send her father to me,” he added, smiling. “Do not +forget, however, that I want you to accompany me for a walk.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra bowed and departed.</p> + +<p>His Excellency called his adjutant.</p> + +<p>“I am happy,” said he, giving him a light slap on the +shoulder. “To-day I have seen for the first time how one <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb123" href="#pb123">123</a>]</span>can be a +good Spaniard without ceasing to be a good Filipino and to love his +country. To-day, at last, I have shown the <i>Reverences</i> that we +are not all their playthings. This young man has afforded me the +opportunity, and, in a short time, I will have settled all of my +accounts with the friar. It’s a pity that this young man, some +day or other ... but call the <i>Alcalde</i> to me.”</p> + +<p>The latter presented himself at once.</p> + +<p>“Señor Alcalde,” he said to him, as he entered +the room, “in order to avoid a repetition of scenes such as Your +Honor witnessed this afternoon, scenes which I deplore because they +take away the prestige of the Government and all Spaniards, I want to +commend to you warmly Señor Ibarra, that you may not only aid +him in carrying out his patriotic ends, but also prevent in the future +any person of whatever class or under whatever pretext, from molesting +him.”</p> + +<p>The <i>Alcalde</i> understood the reprimand and bowed to conceal his +confusion.</p> + +<p>“Have the <i>alferez</i>, who is in command here, informed to +the same effect. And you will find out if it is true that this officer +has methods of procedure that are not in accordance with the +regulations. I have heard more than one complaint on this +score.”</p> + +<p>Captain Tiago, all starched and ironed, presented himself.</p> + +<p>“Don Santiago,” said His Excellency, in a cordial tone +of voice, “a little while ago I was congratulating you on having +a daughter like the Señorita de los Santos. Now I want to +congratulate you on your future son-in-law. The most virtuous of +daughters is certainly worthy of the best citizen of the Philippines. +Is the date of the wedding known?”</p> + +<p>“Señor!” stammered the Captain, wiping away the +perspiration which was running down his face.</p> + +<p>“O, come! I see that there is nothing definite. If you need +godfathers, I will be one of them with the greatest pleasure. I would +do it to take away the bad taste which so many of the weddings which I +have attended here have left in my mouth,” he added, turning to +the <i>Alcalde</i>. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb124" href= +"#pb124">124</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Yes, señor!” replied Captain Tiago, with a smile +which inspired compassion.</p> + +<p>Ibarra had gone in search of Maria Clara, almost on a run. He had so +many things to tell her. He heard some gentle voices in one of the +rooms and knocked at the door.</p> + +<p>“Who knocks?” asked Maria Clara.</p> + +<p>The voices were silenced and the door ... was not opened.</p> + +<p>“It is I. May I come in?” asked the young man, his heart +beating violently.</p> + +<p>The silence was not broken. A few seconds afterward gentle steps +approached the door and Sinang’s cheerful voice murmured through +the key-hole: “Crisostomo, we are going to the theatre to-night. +Write what you have to say to Maria Clara.”</p> + +<p>Then the footsteps were heard retreating, as quickly as they had +come.</p> + +<p>“What does that mean!” murmured Ibarra to himself, as he +went slowly away from the door. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb125" +href="#pb125">125</a>]</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e3094src" id="xd0e3094">1</a></span> A reply which accords with +the Spanish idea of politeness but rather ludicrously used in this +instance.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id="ch20" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XX.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The Procession.</h2> + +<p>In the evening, by the light of lanterns hung from windows, to the +ringing of bells and bursting of bombs, the procession started for the +fourth time.</p> + +<p>The Governor General left the house on foot, in company with his two +adjutants, Captain Tiago, the <i>Alcalde</i>, the <i>alferez</i>, and +Ibarra. The Civil Guards and the officials of the town preceded them +and cleared the way. His Excellency had been invited to witness the +procession from the house of the <i>gobernadorcillo</i>, in front of +which a platform had been erected for the recitation of a <i>loa</i>, +or religious poem, in honor of the Patron Saint. Ibarra had previously +declined with pleasure an invitation to hear this poetical composition, +as he had preferred to witness the procession from the house of Captain +Tiago with Maria Clara and her friends. But, as His Excellency wished +to hear the <i>loa</i>, there was no other remedy for Ibarra but to +console himself with the hope of seeing her at the theatre.</p> + +<p>The procession was headed by three sacristans carrying silver +candlesticks. The children of the school, accompanied by their teacher, +followed. Then came the small boys, with colored paper lanterns +fastened to the ends of pieces of bamboo, each more or less adorned +according to the caprices of the boy, for this part of the illumination +was paid for entirely by themselves. However, they fulfilled this duty +with a great deal of pleasure.</p> + +<p>In the midst of it all, men serving as police, passed to and fro to +see that the files of the procession were not broken or the people +jammed together in a crowd. For this purpose they used their wands and +inflicted some hard blows, thus managing to add to the brilliancy of +the procession, to the edification of souls and to the glory of +religious pomp. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb126" href= +"#pb126">126</a>]</span></p> + +<p>At the same time that the officers inflicted these sanctified +floggings with their wands free of charge, others, to console those who +had been punished, distributed wax and tallow candles, also free of +charge.</p> + +<p>“Señor Alcalde,” said Ibarra, in a low voice, +“do they inflict those blows to punish the sinners or merely for +pleasure?”</p> + +<p>“You are right, Señor Ibarra,” replied the +Governor General, who had overheard his question. “This spectacle +... barbarous ... astonishing to those who come from other countries, +ought to be prohibited.”</p> + +<p>Although it cannot be explained, the first saint who appeared was +San Juan el Baptisto. On seeing him, you would say that the cousin of +Our Saviour did not enjoy any great renown among these people. He had +slender feet and legs and the face of a hermit, and was carried along +on an old wooden litter. In marked contrast to the representation of +San Juan, was that of San Francisco, the founder of the great order. +The latter was drawn in a car, and, as Tasio said: “What a car! +How many lights and glass lanterns! Why, I have never seen you +surrounded by so many illuminations, Giovanni Bernardone! And what +music!”</p> + +<p>Behind the music came a standard representing the same saint, but +with seven wings. It was carried by the brothers of the Third Order, +dressed in <i>guingon</i> and praying in a loud and mournful voice. The +next in the procession was Santa Maria Magdalena, a most beautiful +image with an abundant growth of hair, a handkerchief of embroidered +<i>piña</i> cloth between her ring-covered fingers, and wearing +a dress of silk adorned with gold-leaf. Lights and incense surrounded +her. The glass tears from her eyes reflected the colors of the colored +fire which was burned here and there, giving a fantastic aspect to the +procession. Consequently, the sinful saint appeared to be weeping now +green, now red and now blue tears. The people did not begin to burn +these colored lights till San Francisco was passing; San Juan el +Baptisto did not enjoy this honor, passing by quickly, ashamed perhaps +to go dressed in skins among so many saints covered with gold and +precious jewels. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb127" href= +"#pb127">127</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“There goes our saint!” cried the daughter of the <i> +gobernadorcillo</i> to her visitors. “I loaned her my rings, but +I did it to get to Heaven.”</p> + +<p>Those carrying the illuminations stopped near the platform to hear +the <i>loa</i>. The saints did the same. They and their carriers wanted +to hear the verses. Those who carried San Juan, tired of waiting, +squatted down in the characteristic Filipino manner, and found it +convenient to leave their burden on the ground.</p> + +<p>“You’ll get into trouble,” objected one.</p> + +<p>“<i>Jesús!</i> In the <span class="corr" id="xd0e3319" +title="Source: sacristry">sacristy</span>, they leave him in a corner +among spider-webs....”</p> + +<p>After Magdalena came the women. They differed from the men in +arrangement. Instead of the children, the old women came first and +finally the unmarried women. Behind these came the car of the Virgin, +and behind that, the curate under his canopy. Father Dámaso gave +the following reason for putting the young women next to the +Virgin’s car: “The Virgin likes young women, but not old +ones.” Of course, this explanation caused many of the older women +to make wry faces, but that did not change the taste of the Virgin.</p> + +<p>San Diego followed Magdalena, but he did not seem to rejoice over +the fact, for he was as precise in his behavior as on the morning when +he followed along behind San Francisco. Six brothers of the Third Order +drew the car. San Diego stopped before the platform and awaited for the +people to salute him.</p> + +<p>But it was necessary to await the car which contained the image of +the Virgin. Preceding this car were some people dressed in a fantastic +manner which made children cry and babies scream. In the midst of that +dark mass of habits, hoods and girdles, to the sound of that monotonous +and nasal prayer, one could see, like white jessamine, like fresh +pansies among old rags, twelve young lassies dressed in white, crowned +with flowers, with hair curled and eyes bright as the necklaces they +wore. Seizing hold of two wide blue bands which were tied to the car of +the Virgin, they drew it along, reminding one of doves drawing the car +of Spring.</p> + +<p>And now when the images were all attentive, when this <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb128" href="#pb128">128</a>]</span>child and that +had been slapped sufficiently to make him listen to the verses, when +everybody had his eyes fixed on the half open curtain, at last, an <i> +aaaah!</i> of admiration escaped from the lips of all.</p> + +<p>And the sight merited it. A young child appeared with wings, riding +boots, a cordon over its shoulder, a belt and a plumed hat.</p> + +<p>“The Señor Alcalde!” cried some one, but the +young prodigy recited a poem in such a manner that the <i>Alcalde</i> +was not offended at the comparison.</p> + +<p>The procession then continued. San Juan followed out his bitter +career.</p> + +<p>As the Virgin passed before the house of Captain Tiago, a heavenly +song greeted her like the words of an archangel. It was a sweet, +melodious, supplicating voice, weeping the <i>Ave Maria</i> of Gounod. +The music of the procession was silenced, the praying ceased, and +Father Salví himself stopped. The voice trembled and brought +tears to the cheeks of those who heard it. That voice expressed more +than a salutation, a prayer, or a plaint.</p> + +<p>From the window, where he was viewing the procession, Ibarra heard +the voice, and melancholy took possession of his heart. He understood +what that soul was suffering and what was expressed in that song. He +was afraid to think of the cause of that grief.</p> + +<p>The Governor General found him pensive and sad. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb129" href="#pb129">129</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch21" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXI.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Doña Consolacion.</h2> + +<p>Why were the windows in the <i>alferez’s</i> house closed? +Where was the masculine face and the flannel shirt of the Medusa or +Muse of the Civil Guard while the procession was passing? Could she +have understood how unpleasant was the sight of the swelling veins of +her forehead, filled, it seemed, not with blood but with vinegar and +bile; of her large cigar, that worthy ornament of her red lips; and of +her envious look; could she have understood all of that, and, giving +way to a generous impulse, have refrained from disturbing the gayety of +the crowd by her sinister apparition?</p> + +<p>Alas! Her generous impulses lived only in the golden age.</p> + +<p>Her house was sad because other people were merry, as Sinang put it. +There neither lanterns nor flags could be seen. In fact, if the sentry +were not walking up and down in front of the gate, you would have said +that the house was unoccupied.</p> + +<p>A feeble light illumined the disarranged <i>sala</i>, and made +transparent the oyster-shell windows filled with spider-webs and +covered with dust. The Señora, according to her custom, her +hands folded, sat in a wide arm-chair. She was dressed the same as +every day, that is to say, outrageously out of taste. In detail, she +had a handkerchief tied around her head, while short, slender locks of +tangled hair hung down on either side; a blue flannel shirt over +another shirt which should have been white; and a faded-out skirt which +moulded itself to her slender thighs as she sat with her legs crossed +and nervously wiggled her foot. From her mouth, came big puffs of +smoke, which she fastidiously blew up in the space toward which she +looked when her eyes were open. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb130" +href="#pb130">130</a>]</span></p> + +<p>That morning the Señora had not heard mass, not because she +had not cared to hear it, for on the contrary she wanted to show +herself to the multitude and to hear the sermon, but because her +husband had not permitted her to do so. As was usually the case, his +prohibition was accompanied by two or three insults, oaths and threats +of kicking. The <i>alferez</i> understood that his “female” +dressed herself in a ridiculous manner, and that it was not fitting to +expose her to the eyes of the people from the capital nor even the +country districts.</p> + +<p>But she did not understand it that way. She knew that she was +beautiful, attractive, that she had the manners of a queen and that she +dressed much better and more gorgeously than Maria Clara herself, +though to be sure the latter wore a <i>tapis</i> over her skirt while +she wore only the skirt. The <i>alferez</i> had to say to her: +“Oh, shut your mouth or I’ll kick you till you +do!”</p> + +<p>Doña Consolacion did not care to be kicked, but she planned +revenge.</p> + +<p>The dark face of the Señora never had inspired confidence in +anybody, not even when she painted it. That morning she was +exceptionally uneasy, and as she walked from one end of the <i>sala</i> +to the other, in silence and as if meditating something terrible, her +eyes shone like those of a serpent about to be crushed. Her look was +cold, luminous, and penetrating and had something vicious, loathsome +and cruel in it.</p> + +<p>The slightest defect in anything, the most insignificant or unusual +noise brought forth an obscene and infamous expression; but no one +responded. To offer an excuse was a crime.</p> + +<p>So the day passed. Encountering no obstacle in her way—her +husband had been invited out—she became saturated with bile.</p> + +<p>Everything around bent itself before her. She met no resistance, +there was nothing upon which she could discharge the vials of her +wrath. Soldiers and servants crawled before her.</p> + +<p>That she might not hear the rejoicing going on outside, she ordered +the windows to be closed, and charged the sentry not to permit any one +to enter. She tied a handkerchief <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb131" +href="#pb131">131</a>]</span>around her head to prevent it from +bursting; and, in spite of the fact that the sun was still shining +brightly, she ordered the lamps lighted.</p> + +<p>A madwoman who had been detained for disturbing the public peace was +taken to the barracks. The <i>alferez</i> was not there at the time and +the unhappy woman had to pass the night seated on a bench. The +following day the <i>alferez</i> returned. Fearing lest the unhappy +woman should become the butt of the crowd during the <i>fiesta</i>, he +ordered the soldiers who were guarding her to treat her with pity and +give her something to eat. Thus the demented woman passed two days.</p> + +<p>Whether the proximity to Captain Tiago’s house made it +possible for the sad song of Maria Clara to reach her ears, whether +other strains of music awoke in her memories of old songs, or whether +there was some other cause for it, at any rate, the madwoman began that +night to sing with a sweet and melancholy voice the songs of her youth. +The soldiers heard her and kept silent. Those songs brought back +memories of the old times.</p> + +<p>Doña Consolacion also heard it in her sorrow, and became +interested in the person who was singing.</p> + +<p>“Tell her to come upstairs at once!” she ordered, after +some seconds of meditation. Something like a smile passed over her dry +lips.</p> + +<p>They brought the woman and she presented herself without any +discomposure, and without manifesting either fear or surprise.</p> + +<p>“Orderly, tell this woman in Tagalog to sing!” said the +<i>alfereza</i>. “She don’t understand me; she does not +know Spanish.”</p> + +<p>The demented woman understood the orderly and sang the song +“Night.”</p> + +<p>Doña Consolacion listened to the beginning with a mocking +smile which disappeared gradually from her lips. She became attentive, +then more serious and pensive. The woman’s voice, the sentiment +of the verses and the song itself impressed her. That dry and burning +heart was perhaps softened. She understood the song well: +“Sadness, cold, and dampness, wrapped in the mantle of Night +descend from the sky,” as the folk song <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb132" href="#pb132">132</a>]</span>puts it. It seemed that they +were also descending upon her heart. “The withered flower which +during the day has paraded its dress, desirous of applause and full of +vanity, at nightfall repenting, makes an effort to raise its faded +petals to the sky, and begs for a little shade in which to hide itself, +so as to die without the mockery of the light which saw it in its pomp, +to die without the vanity of its pride being seen, and begging for a +drop of dew, to weep over it. The night bird, leaving its solitary +retreat in the hollow of the old tree, disturbs the melancholy of the +forests....”</p> + +<p>“No, no! Do not sing!” exclaimed the <i>alfereza</i> in +perfect Tagalog and raising to her feet somewhat agitated. +“Don’t sing! Those verses hurt me!”</p> + +<p>The demented woman stopped. The orderly muttered “Bah!” +and exclaimed “She knows how to <i>patá</i> +Tagalog!” and stood looking at the señora full of +surprise.</p> + +<p>The Muse understood that she had been caught, and was ashamed. As +her nature was not that of a woman, her shame took the form of rage and +hatred. She pointed out the door to the impudent orderly and with a +kick closed it behind him. She took several turns about the room, +twisting a whip between her nervous hands, and then, stopping suddenly +in front of the demented woman, said in Spanish: +“Dance!”</p> + +<p>The demented one did not move.</p> + +<p>“Dance! Dance!” she repeated in a threatening voice.</p> + +<p>The poor woman looked at the Señora, her eyes devoid of +expression. The <i>alfereza</i> raised one arm and then the other, +shaking them in a menacing way.</p> + +<p>She then leaped up in the air, and jumped around urging the other +woman to imitate her. The band in the procession could be heard playing +a slow, majestic march, but the Señora, leaping about furiously +was keeping time to different music than that the band was playing, +that music which resounded within her. A curious look appeared in the +madwoman’s eyes, and a weak smile moved her pale lips. She liked +the Señora’s dancing.</p> + +<p>The <i>alfereza</i> stopped dancing as if ashamed. She raised the +whip, that terrible whip made in Ulango and improved by the <i> +alferez</i> by winding wire around it, that <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb133" href="#pb133">133</a>]</span>same terrible whip which the +<i>ladrones</i> and soldiers knew so well.</p> + +<p>“Now it is your turn to dance ... dance!”</p> + +<p>And she began to whip lightly the demented woman’s bare +feet.</p> + +<p>The pale face contracted with pain, and she was obliged to defend +herself from the blows by her hands.</p> + +<p>“Come! Go ahead!” she exclaimed with savage delight, and +she passed from <i>lento</i> to <a id="xd0e3481"> +</a><i>allegro-vivace</i> in the use of her whip.</p> + +<p>The unhappy woman screamed and quickly raised her feet.</p> + +<p>“You have got to dance, you d——d Indian!” +exclaimed the Señora and the whip whizzed and whistled.</p> + +<p>The woman let herself sink to the floor and tried to cover her legs +with her hands, at the same time looking with wild eyes at her +tormentor. Two heavy <span class="corr" id="xd0e3491" title="Source: +lashs">lashes</span> on her back made her rise again. Now it was no +longer a scream; it was a howl which escaped from the unfortunate +woman. The thin shirt was torn, the skin broke open and the blood oozed +out.</p> + +<p>The sight of blood excites a tiger; so, too, the sight of the blood +of her victim infuriated Doña Consolacion.</p> + +<p>“Dance! dance! Curse you! D——n you! Dance! Cursed +be the mother who bore you!” she cried. “Dance, or +I’ll kill you by whipping you to death!”</p> + +<p>Then the <i>alfereza</i>, taking the woman with one hand and +whipping her with another, began to jump and dance.</p> + +<p>The insane woman understood her at last and went on moving her arms +regardless of time or tune. A smile of satisfaction contracted the lips +of the teacher. It was like the smile of a female Mephistopheles who +had succeeded in developing a good pupil; it was full of hatred, +contempt, mockery and cruelty; a coarse laugh could not have expressed +more.</p> + +<p>Absorbed in the enjoyment which the spectacle afforded her, she did +not hear her husband coming, until he opened the door with a kick.</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> appeared, pale and gloomy. He saw what was going +on there and looked daggers at his wife. She <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb134" href="#pb134">134</a>]</span>did not move from her tracks +and stood smiling in a cynical way.</p> + +<p>In the gentlest manner possible, he put his hand on the shoulder of +the dancing woman and made her stop. The demented woman sighed and +slowly sat down on the blood-covered floor.</p> + +<p>The silence continued. The <i>alferez</i> was breathing heavily. His +wife was observing him with her questioning eyes. She seized the whip +and in a calm and measured tone asked him: “What’s the +matter with you? You have not said ‘good evening’ to +me.”</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i>, without replying, called the orderly.</p> + +<p>“Take this woman,” he said, “and have Marta give +her another shirt and take care of her. Find her good food, and a good +bed.... Let him look out who treats her badly!”</p> + +<p>After carefully closing the door, he turned the key in the lock and +approached his señora.</p> + +<p>“You want me to smash you?” he said, clenching his +fists.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter with you?” asked she, +retreating a step or two.</p> + +<p>“What’s the matter with me?” he shouted, in a +thundering voice, and, giving vent to an oath, showed her a paper +covered with scribbling. He continued:</p> + +<p>“Didn’t you write this letter to the <i>Alcalde</i>, +saying that I am paid for permitting the gambling, d——n +you? I don’t know how I can keep from smashing you.”</p> + +<p>“Go ahead! Try it if you dare!” said she, with a mocking +smile. “He who smashes me has got to be more of a man than +you!”</p> + +<p>He heard the insult, but he saw the whip. He seized one of the +plates which were on the table and threw it at her head. The woman, +accustomed to these fights, ducked quickly and the plate was shivered +to pieces against the wall. A glass, a cup, and a knife shared the same +fortune.</p> + +<p>“Coward!” she cried. “You dare not come near +me!”</p> + +<p>And then she spat at him to exasperate him more. The man, blind and +howling with rage, threw himself on her, but she, with wonderful +rapidity, struck him a few blows <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb135" +href="#pb135">135</a>]</span>across the face with the whip, and quickly +escaped. Closing the door of her room with a slam, she locked herself +in. Roaring with rage and pain the <i>alferez</i> followed her, but, +coming up against the door, he could do nothing but belch forth a +string of blasphemies.</p> + +<p>“Cursed be your ancestors, you swine! Open, d——n +you! Open that door or I’ll break your skull!” he howled, +pounding and kicking the panels.</p> + +<p>Doña Consolacion did not reply. A moving of chairs and trunks +could be heard, as though some one was trying to raise a barricade of +household furniture. The house fairly shook with the oaths and kicks of +the husband.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you come in! Don’t you come in!” she +said, in a bitter voice. “If you show yourself, I’ll shoot +you!”</p> + +<p>The husband calmed down, little by little, and contented himself +with pacing from one end of the <i>sala</i> to the other like a wild +animal in its cage.</p> + +<p>“Go and cool your head!” continued the woman in mockery. +She seemed to have concluded her preparations for defense.</p> + +<p>“I swear that when I catch you, no one—not even +God—will see you again! I’ll smash you so fine.”</p> + +<p>“Yes! Now you can say what you wish. You would not let me go +to mass. You would not let me fulfill my duty to God!” she said +with such sarcasm as she alone knew how to use.</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> took his helmet, straightened out his clothes, +and walked away several paces. But, at the end of several minutes, he +returned without making the slightest noise, for he had taken off his +boots. The servants, accustomed to these spectacles, paid no attention +to them, but the novelty of this move with the boots attracted their +notice and they gave each other the wink.</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> sat down on a chair next to the door and had the +patience to wait more than half an hour.</p> + +<p>“Have you really gone out or are you there, you +he-goat?” asked a voice from time to time, changing the epithets +but raising the tone.</p> + +<p>Finally, she commenced to take away the furniture from her +barricade. He heard the noise and smiled. <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb136" href="#pb136">136</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Orderly! Has the señor gone out?” cried +Doña Consolacion.</p> + +<p>The orderly at a signal from the <i>alferez</i>, replied: +“Yes, señora, he has gone out!”</p> + +<p>He could hear her laugh triumphantly. She drew back the bolt. The +husband arose to his feet slowly; the door was opened.</p> + +<p>A cry, the noise of a body falling, oaths, howling, swearing, blows, +hoarse voices. Who can describe what took place in the darkness of the +bedroom?</p> + +<p>The orderly, going out to the kitchen, made a very expressive +gesture to the cook.</p> + +<p>“And now you’ll catch it!” said the latter.</p> + +<p>“I? No, sir. The town will, not I. She asked me if he had gone +out, not if he had returned.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb137" href="#pb137">137</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch22" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXII.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Might and Right.</h2> + +<p>It was about ten o’clock at night. The last rockets lazily +soared into the dark sky, where paper balloons shone like new stars. +Some of the fireworks had set fire to houses and were threatening them +with destruction; for this reason men could be seen on the ridges of +the roofs carrying buckets of water and long bamboo poles with cloths +tied on the ends. Their dark shadows seemed descended from ethereal +space to be present at the rejoicings of human beings. An enormous +number of wheels had been burned, also castles, bulls, <i>caraboas</i> +and other pieces of fireworks, and finally a great volcano, which +surpassed in beauty and grandeur anything that the inhabitants of San +Diego had ever seen.</p> + +<p>Now the people turned in one great crowd toward the plaza to attend +the last theatrical performance. Here and there could be seen the +colored Bengal lights, fantastically illuminating groups of merry +people. The small boys were making use of their torches to search for +unexploded firecrackers in the grass, or, in fact, for anything else +that might be of use to them. But the music was the signal and all +abandoned the lawn for the theatre.</p> + +<p>The large platform was splendidly illuminated. Thousands of lights +surrounded the pillars and hung from the roof, while a number, in +pyramid-shaped groups, were arranged on the floor of the stage. An +employee attended to these and whenever he would come forward to +regulate them, the public would whistle at him and shout: “There +he is! There he is now!”</p> + +<p>In front of the stage, the orchestra tuned its instruments, and<a +id="xd0e3620"></a> behind the musicians sat the principal people of the +town. Spaniards and rich visitors were occupying the reserved chairs. +The public, the mass of people without <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb138" href="#pb138">138</a>]</span>titles or rank, filled the rest of +the plaza. Some carried with them benches, not so much for seats as to +remedy their lack of stature. When they stood upon them, rude protests +were made on the part of those without benches or things to stand on. +Then they would get down immediately, but soon mount up on their +pedestals again as if nothing had happened.</p> + +<p>Comings and goings, cries, exclamations, laughter, squibs that had +been slow in going off, and firecrackers increased the tumult. Here, a +foot broke through a bench, and some one fell to the floor, while the +crowd laughed and made a show of him who had come so far to see a show. +There, they fought and disputed over positions, and, a little farther +on, the noise of breaking bottles and glasses could be heard: it was +Andeng. She was carrying drinks and refreshments on a tray which she +was balancing with both hands, but she had met her lover and he tried +to take advantage of her helplessness by tickling....</p> + +<p>The <i>teniente mayor</i> presided at the production since the <i> +gobernadorcillo</i> was fonder of <i>monte</i>.</p> + +<p>Maria Clara and her friends had arrived, and Don Filipo received +them, and accompanied them to their seats. Behind came the curate with +another Franciscan and some Spaniards. With the curate were some other +people who make it their business to escort the friars.</p> + +<p>“May God reward them in another life,” said the old man, +referring to them as he walked away from Maria Clara’s party.</p> + +<p>The performance began with Chananay and Marianito in <i> +Crispinoé la Comare</i>. Everybody had eyes and ears intent upon +the stage, except one, Father Salví. He seemed to have come to +the theatre for no other purpose than to watch Maria Clara, whose +sadness gave to her beauty an air so ideal and interesting that +everybody looked upon her with rapture. But the Franciscan’s +eyes, deeply hidden in their hollow orbits, spoke no words of rapture. +In that sombre look one could read something desperately sad. With such +eyes Cain might have contemplated from afar the Paradise whose delights +his mother had pictured to him. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb139" +href="#pb139">139</a>]</span></p> + +<p>The act was just ending when Ibarra arrived. His presence occasioned +a buzz of conversation. The attention of everybody was fixed on him and +on the curate.</p> + +<p>But the young man did not seem to be aware of it, for he greeted +Maria Clara and her friends with naturalness and sat down at their +side. The only one who spoke was Sinang.</p> + +<p>“Did you see the volcano when they touched it off?” she +asked.</p> + +<p>“No, my little friend. I had to accompany the Governor +General.”</p> + +<p>“Well, that is too bad! The curate came with us and he was +telling us stories about condemned people. What do you think? +Doesn’t he do it to make us afraid so that we cannot enjoy +ourselves? How does it appear to you?”</p> + +<p>The curate arose and approached Don Filipo, with whom he seemed to +be having a lively discussion. He was speaking with animation and Don +Filipo replying with moderation and in a low voice.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry that I cannot please Your Reverence,” said +the latter. “Señor Ibarra is one of the heaviest +tax-payers and has a right to sit here as long as he does not disturb +the public order.”</p> + +<p>“But is not scandalizing good Christians disturbing the public +order? You let a wolf into the flock. You will be held responsible for +this before God and before the authorities of the town.”</p> + +<p>“I always hold myself responsible for acts which emanate from +my own will, Father,” replied Don Filipo, slightly inclining his +head. “But my little authority does not give me power to meddle +in religious affairs. Those who wish to avoid contact with him do not +have to speak to him. Señor Ibarra does not force himself on any +one.”</p> + +<p>“But he affords danger. He who loves danger perishes in +it.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t see any danger, Father. The <i>Alcalde</i> and +the Governor General, my superiors, have been talking with him all the +afternoon, and it is not for me to give them a lesson.”</p> + +<p>“If you don’t put him out of here, we will leave.” +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb140" href="#pb140">140</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“I am very, very sorry, but I cannot put any one out of +here.”</p> + +<p>The curate repented having said what he did, but now there was no +alternative. He made a signal to his companion, who laboriously rose to +his feet and both went out. The persons attached to the friars imitated +the priests, not, however, without first glancing with hatred at +Ibarra.</p> + +<p>Murmurs and whispers increased. Then various persons approached and +saluted the young man and said:</p> + +<p>“We are with you. Take no notice of them.”</p> + +<p>“Who are <i>’them’</i>?” he asked with +surprise.</p> + +<p>“Those who have gone out in order to avoid contact with +you.”</p> + +<p>“To avoid contact with me? Contact with me?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, they say that you are excommunicated.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra, surprised, did not know what to say and looked around him. +He saw Maria Clara, who was hiding her face behind her fan.</p> + +<p>“But is it possible?” he exclaimed at last. “Are +we still in the darkness of the Middle Ages? So +that——”</p> + +<p>And turning to the young women and changing his tone, he said:</p> + +<p>“Excuse me; I have forgotten an appointment. I will return to +accompany you home.”</p> + +<p>“Stay!” said Sinang. “Yeyeng is going to dance in +the ‘La Calandria.’ She dances divinely.”</p> + +<p>“I cannot, my little friend, but I will certainly +return.”</p> + +<p>The murmurs increased.</p> + +<p>While Yeyeng, dressed in the style of the lower class of Madrid, was +coming on the stage with the remark: “<i lang="es">Da Usté +su permiso?</i>” (Do you give your permission?) and as Carvajal +was replying to her “<i lang="es">Pase usté +adelante</i>” (Pass forward), two soldiers of the Civil Guard +approached Don Filipo, asking him to suspend the performance.</p> + +<p>“And what for?” asked he, surprised at the request.</p> + +<p>“Because the <i>alferez</i> and his Señora have been +fighting and they cannot sleep.”</p> + +<p>“You tell the <i>alferez</i> that we have permission from the +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb141" href= +"#pb141">141</a>]</span><i>Alcalde</i>, and that no one in the town has +any authority over him, not even the <i>gobernadorcillo</i>, who is my +<i>on-ly su-per-ior</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Well, you will have to suspend the performance,” +repeated the soldiers.</p> + +<p>Don Filipo turned his back to them. The guards marched off.</p> + +<p>In order not to disturb the general tranquillity, Don Filipo said +not a word about the matter to any one.</p> + +<p>After a piece of light opera, which was heartily applauded, the +Prince Villardo presented himself on the stage, and challenged all the +Moros, who had imprisoned his father, to a fight. The hero threatened +to cut off all their heads at a single blow and to send them all to the +moon. Fortunately for the Moros, who were making ready to fight to the +tune of the “Riego Hymn,”<a class="noteref" id= +"xd0e3746src" href="#xd0e3746">1</a> a tumult intervened. All of a +sudden, the orchestra stopped playing and the musicians made a rush for +the stage, throwing their instruments in all directions. The brave +Villardo was not expecting such a move, and, taking them for allies of +the Moros he also threw down his sword and shield and began to run. The +Moros, seeing this terrible giant fleeing, found it convenient to +imitate him. Cries, sighs, imprecations and blasphemies filled the air. +The people ran, trampled over each other, the lights were put out, and +the glass lamps with their cocoanut oil and little wicks were flying +through the air. “<i>Tulisanes! Tulisanes!</i>” cried some. +“Fire! Fire! <i>Ladrones!</i>” cried others. Women and +children wept, chairs and spectators were rolled over on the floor in +the midst of the confusion, rush and tumult.</p> + +<p>“What has happened?”</p> + +<p>Two Civil Guards with sticks in hand had gone after the musicians in +order to put an end to the spectacle. The <i>teniente mayor</i>, with +the <i>cuaderilleros</i>,<a class="noteref" id="xd0e3765src" href= +"#xd0e3765">2</a> armed with their old sabers, had managed to arrest +the two Civil Guards in spite of their resistance. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb142" href="#pb142">142</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Take them to the tribunal!” shouted Don Filipo. +“Be careful not to let them get away!”</p> + +<p>Ibarra had returned and had sought out Maria Clara. The terrified +young maidens, trembling and pale, were clinging closely to him. Aunt +Isabel was reciting the litanies in Latin.</p> + +<p>The crowd having recovered a little from the fright and some one +having explained what had caused the rush and tumult, indignation arose +in everyone’s breast. Stones rained upon the Civil Guards who +were being conducted to the tribunal by the <i>cuaderilleros</i>. Some +one proposed that they burn the barracks of the Civil Guards and that +they roast Doña Consolacion and the <i>alferez</i> alive.</p> + +<p>“That is all that they are good for,” cried a woman, +rolling up her sleeves and stretching out her arms. “They can +disturb the people but they persecute none but honorable men. They do +nothing with the <i>tulisanes</i> and the gamblers. Look at them! Let +us burn the <i>cuartel</i>.”</p> + +<p>Somebody had been wounded in the arm and was asking for confession. +A plaintive voice was heard coming from under an upset bench. It was a +poor musician. The stage was filled with the players and people of the +town and they were all talking at the same time. There was Chananay, +dressed in the costume of Leonor in the “Trovador,” talking +in corrupted Spanish with Ratia, who was in a school teacher’s +costume. There too, was Yeyeng, dressed in a silk wrapper, talking with +the Prince Villardo. There too, Balbino and the Moros, trying to +console the musicians who were more or less sorry sights. Some +Spaniards were walking from one place to another, arguing with every +one they met.</p> + +<p>But a nucleus for a mob already formed. Don Filipo knew what was +their intention and tried to stop them.</p> + +<p>“Do not break the peace!” he shouted. “To-morrow +we will demand satisfaction: we will have justice. I will take the +responsibility for our getting justice.”</p> + +<p>“No!” some replied. “They did the same thing in +Calamba. The same thing was promised, but the <i>Alcalde</i> <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb143" href="#pb143">143</a>]</span>did +nothing. We want justice done by our own hands. To the <i> +cuartel</i>!”</p> + +<p>In vain the <i>teniente mayor</i> argued with them. The group that +had gathered showed no signs of changing its attitude or purpose. Don +Filipo looked about him, in search of help. He saw Ibarra.</p> + +<p>“Señor Ibarra, for my sake, as a favor, hold them while +I seek some <i>cuaderilleros</i>.”</p> + +<p>“What can I do?” asked the young man, perplexed. But the +<i>teniente mayor</i> was already in the distance.</p> + +<p>Ibarra in turn looked about him, for he knew not whom. Fortunately, +he thought he discerned Elias, in the crowd, but not taking an active +part in it. Ibarra ran up to him, seized his arm and said to him in +Spanish:</p> + +<p>“For heaven’s sake! Do something, if you can! I cannot +do anything.”</p> + +<p>The pilot must have understood, for he lost himself in the mob.</p> + +<p>Lively discussions were heard mingled with strong interjections. +Soon the mob began to disperse, each one of the participants becoming +less hostile. And it was time for them to do so, for the <i> +cuaderilleros</i> were coming to the scene with fixed bayonets.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, what was the curate doing?</p> + +<p>Father Salví had not gone to bed. Standing on foot, immovable +and leaning his face against the shutter, he was looking toward the +plaza and, from time to time, a suppressed sigh escaped his breast. If +the light of his lamp had not been so dim, perhaps one might have seen +that his eyes were filling with tears. Thus he stood for almost an +hour.</p> + +<p>The tumult in the plaza roused him from this state. Full of +surprise, he followed with his eyes the people as they rushed to and +fro in confusion. Their voices and cries he could vaguely hear even at +that distance. One of the servants came running in breathlessly and +informed him what was going on.</p> + +<p>A thought entered his mind. Amid confusion and tumult libertines +take advantage of the fright and the weakness of woman. All flee to +save themselves; nobody thinks of anyone else; the women faint and +their cries <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb144" href= +"#pb144">144</a>]</span>are not heard; they fall; are trampled over; +fear and fright overcome modesty, and under cover of darkness.... He +fancied he could see Ibarra carrying Maria Clara fainting in his arms, +and then disappearing in the darkness.</p> + +<p>With leaps and bounds, he went down the stairs without hat, or cane, +and, almost like a crazy person, turned toward the plaza.</p> + +<p>There he found some Spaniards reproving the soldiers. He looked +toward the seats which Maria Clara and her friends had been occupying, +and saw that they were vacant.</p> + +<p>“Father curate! Father curate!” shouted the Spaniards to +him, but he took no notice and ran on in the direction of the house of +Captain Tiago. There he recovered his breath. He saw through the +transparent shade, a shadow—that adorable shadow, so graceful and +delicate in its contour—that of Maria Clara. He could also see +another shadow, that of her aunt carrying cups and glasses.</p> + +<p>“Well!” he muttered to himself. “It seems that she +has only fallen ill.”</p> + +<p>Aunt Isabel afterward closed the shell windows and the graceful +shadow could no longer be seen.</p> + +<p>The curate walked away from there without seeing the crowd. He was +looking at the bust of a beautiful maiden which he had before his eyes, +a maiden sleeping and breathing sweetly. Her eyelids were shaded by +long lashes, which formed graceful curves like those on Rafael’s +virgins. Her small mouth was smiling, and her whole countenance seemed +to breathe virginity, purity and innocence. That sweet face of hers on +the background of the white draperies of the bed was a vision like the +head of a cherubim among the clouds. His impassioned imagination went +on and pictured to him.... Who can describe all that a burning brain +can conceive? <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb145" href= +"#pb145">145</a>]</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e3746src" id="xd0e3746">1</a></span> A popular Spanish song handed +down from the time of Riego’s uprising in Spain.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e3765src" id="xd0e3765">2</a></span> Volunteer police.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id="ch23" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXIII.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Two Visitors.</h2> + +<p>Ibarra found his mind in such a state that it was impossible for him +to sleep. So, in order to divert himself and to drive away the gloomy +idea which distracted his mind, he began work in his solitary +laboratory. Morning came upon him, still at work making mixtures and +compounds to the action of which he submitted pieces of cane and other +substances, and afterward enclosed them in numbered and sealed +flasks.</p> + +<p>A servant entered, announcing the arrival of a peasant.</p> + +<p>“Let him enter!” said he, without even turning to +look.</p> + +<p>Elias entered and remained standing in silence.</p> + +<p>“Ah! is it you?” Ibarra exclaimed in Tagalog on +recognizing him. “Excuse me if I have kept you waiting. I was not +aware of your presence. I was making an important +experiment.”</p> + +<p>“I do not wish to disturb you!” replied the young pilot. +“I have come in the first place, to ask you if you want anything +from the province of Batangas, whither I am going now; and, in the +second place, to give you some bad news.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra looked inquiringly at the pilot.</p> + +<p>“The daughter of Captain Tiago is ill,” added Elias +quietly, “but the illness is not serious.”</p> + +<p>“I had already feared it,” responded Ibarra. “Do +you know what the illness is?”</p> + +<p>“A fever. Now, if you have nothing to +order——”</p> + +<p>“Thanks, my friend. I wish you a good journey, but before you +go, permit me to ask you a question. If it is indiscreet, do not answer +me.”</p> + +<p>Elias bowed. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb146" href= +"#pb146">146</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“How were you able to quiet the mob last night?” asked +Ibarra, fixing his eyes on him.</p> + +<p>“In a very simple way,” replied Elias, with entire +frankness. “At the head of it were two brothers whose father died +from the effects of a whipping at the hands of the Civil Guard. One day +I had the fortune to save them from the same hands into which their +father fell, and for this both are under obligations to me. Last night +I went to them, and requested them to dissuade the others from their +purpose.”</p> + +<p>“And those two brothers whose father died by being whipped to +death?”</p> + +<p>“They will end their lives in the same way,” replied +Elias in a low voice. “When adversity has marked itself once on a +family, all the members have to perish. When the lightning strikes a +tree, it reduces it all to ashes.”</p> + +<p>And Elias, seeing that Ibarra was silent, took his leave.</p> + +<p>The latter on finding himself alone, lost the serenity of +countenance which he had preserved in the presence of the pilot, and +grief manifested itself in his face.</p> + +<p>“I—I have made her suffer,” he muttered.</p> + +<p>He quickly dressed himself and descended the stairs.</p> + +<p>A little man, dressed in mourning, with a large scar on his left +cheek, meekly saluted him, stopping him on his way.</p> + +<p>“What do you wish?” Ibarra asked him.</p> + +<p>“Señor, my name is Lucas. I am the brother of the man +who was killed yesterday during the ceremony when the stone was being +laid.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! You have my sympathy—and, well?”</p> + +<p>“Señor, I wish to know how much you are going to pay my +brother’s family.”</p> + +<p>“How much I am going to pay?” repeated the young man +without being able to conceal a bored expression. “We will talk +that over. Come back this afternoon, for I am busy to-day.”</p> + +<p>“Only tell me how much you are going to pay,” insisted +Lucas.</p> + +<p>“I have told you that we would talk about that some other +time. I’m too busy to-day,” said Ibarra, impatiently. <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb147" href="#pb147">147</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“You haven’t time now, señor?” asked Lucas +with bitterness and putting himself in front of the young man. +“You do not have time to occupy yourself about the +dead?”</p> + +<p>“Come this afternoon, my good fellow!” repeated Ibarra, +restraining himself. “To-day I have to go and see a sick +person.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! and you forget the dead for a sick person? Do you think +that because we are poor——”</p> + +<p>Ibarra looked at him and cut off what he was saying.</p> + +<p>“Don’t try my patience!” said he, and went on his +way. Lucas stood looking at him, with a smile on his face, full of +hatred.</p> + +<p>“You do not know that you are a grandson of the man who +exposed my father to the sun!” he muttered between his teeth. +“You have the very same blood in your veins!”</p> + +<p>And, changing his tone he added:</p> + +<p>“But if you pay well, we are friends.” <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb148" href="#pb148">148</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch24" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXIV.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Episode in Espadaña’s Life.</h2> + +<p>The festival was over. The citizens found, just as every year, that +their treasury was poorer, that they had worked, perspired, and stayed +up nights without enjoying themselves, without acquiring new friends, +and in a word, had paid dearly for the noise and their headaches. But +it did not matter. The next year they would do the same thing, and the +same for the coming century, just as had always been the custom to the +present time.</p> + +<p>Enough sadness reigned in Captain Tiago’s house. All the +windows were closed; the people scarcely made a noise, and no one dared +to speak except in the kitchen. Maria Clara, the soul of the house, lay +sick in her bed.</p> + +<p>“What do you think, Isabel? Shall I make a donation to the +cross of Tunasan or to the cross of Matahong?” asked the +solicitous father in a low voice. “The cross of <span class= +"corr" id="xd0e3945" title="Source: Tunason">Tunasan</span> grows, but +that of Matahong sweats. Which do you think is the most +miraculous?”</p> + +<p>Isabel thought for a moment, moved her head and murmured: “To +grow—to grow is more miraculous than to sweat. We all sweat, but +we do not all grow.”</p> + +<p>“That is true, yes, Isabel, but bear in mind that for wood to +sweat when it is made into the leg of a chair is no small miracle. +Well, the best thing to do is to give alms to both crosses, so that +neither will feel resentful, and Maria Clara will recover more quickly. +Are the rooms in good order? You know that a new señor comes +with the doctors, a relative of Father Dámaso by marriage. It is +necessary that nothing be lacking.”</p> + +<p>The two cousins, Sinang and Victoria, were at the other end of the +dining-room. They had come to keep company with the sick Maria. Andeng +was helping them clean up a tea service in order to serve tea. <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb149" href="#pb149">149</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Do you know Doctor Espadaña?” asked Maria +Clara’s foster sister, directing her question to Victoria.</p> + +<p>“No!” replied the latter. “The only thing that I +know about him is that he charges very dearly, according to Captain +Tiago.”</p> + +<p>“Then he ought to be very good,” said Andeng. “The +one who performed the operation on the stomach of Doña Marta +charged a big price, but he was very wise.”</p> + +<p>“You goose!” exclaimed Sinang. “Not all who charge +high prices are wise. Look at Doctor Guevara. He did not know how to +aid a woman in childbirth, but after cutting off the child’s +head, he collected one hundred <i>pesos</i> from the widower. What he +did know was how to charge.”</p> + +<p>“What do you know about it?” her cousin asked, giving +her a jab with her elbow.</p> + +<p>“Why shouldn’t I know about it? The husband, who is a +wood-sawyer, after losing his wife, had to lose his house also, for the +<i>Alcalde</i> was a friend of the doctor’s and made him pay. Why +shouldn’t I know? My father loaned him money so that he could +make a trip to Santa Cruz.”</p> + +<p>A coach stopped before the house and cut off all the +conversation.</p> + +<p>Captain Tiago, followed by Aunt Isabel, ran downstairs to receive +the new arrivals. They were the doctor, Don Tiburcio de +Espadaña, his wife, Doctora Doña Victorina de los Reyes +<i>de</i> de Espadaña; and a young Spaniard. The latter had a +sympathetic face and a pleasing appearance.</p> + +<p>The <i>doctora</i> wore a silk gown, embroidered with flowers, and +on her hat, a large parrot half crushed among trimmings of red and blue +ribbons. The dust of the road had mingled with the rice powder on her +cheeks, strongly accentuating her wrinkles. She was leaning on the arm +of her lame husband.</p> + +<p>“I have the pleasure to present to you our cousin, Don Alfonso +Linares de Espadaña,” said Doña Victorina, pointing +toward the young man. “The gentleman is a god-son of a relative +of Father Dámaso, and is private secretary to all the +ministers.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb150" href= +"#pb150">150</a>]</span></p> + +<p>The young man bowed gracefully. Captain Tiago almost kissed his +hand.</p> + +<p>Doña Victorina was a woman of about forty-five summers, +which, according to her arithmetical calculations, was equivalent to +thirty-two springs. She had been pretty in her youth, but, raging over +her own beauty, she had looked with disdain on many Filipino adorers, +for her aspirations were for the other race. She had not cared to +entrust her little white hand to anybody, but this not on account of +lack of confidence on her part, for she had entrusted rings and jewels +of inestimable value to various foreign adventurers.</p> + +<p>Six months before the time of the happenings of which we are +writing, she saw her beautiful dream realized, that dream of her whole +life, on account of which she had disdained all manner of flattery and +even the promises of love, which had been cooed into her ears, or sung +in serenades by Captain Tiago. Late, it is true, she had realized her +dream; but she knew well the proverb—“Better late than +never,” and consoled herself by repeating it again and again. +“There is no complete happiness on this earth,” was her +other favorite proverb, but neither of these ever passed her lips in +the presence of other people.</p> + +<p>Doña Victorina, after passing her first, second, third and +fourth youth in fishing in the sea of men for the object of her dreams, +had at last to content herself with what fortune cared to give her. The +poor little woman, if she, instead of having passed thirty-two springs, +had not passed more than thirty-one—the difference according to +her arithmetic was very great—would have thrown back the prize +which Destiny offered her, and preferred to wait for another more in +conformity with her tastes. But, as the man proposed and necessity +disposed it so, for she needed a husband very badly, she was compelled +to content herself with a poor man, who had been driven by necessity to +leave the Province of Estremadura in Spain. He, after wandering about +the world for six or seven months, a modern Ulysses, found at last in +the island of Luzon, hospitality, money, and a faded Calypso, his +better half—but alas! a bitter half. He was known as the unhappy +Tiburcio Espadaña, and, although he was <span class="pagenum"> +[<a id="pb151" href="#pb151">151</a>]</span>thirty-five years old and +seemed even older, he was, however, younger than Doña Victorina, +who was only thirty-two.</p> + +<p>He had come to the Philippines in the capacity of clerk in the +custom house, but after all the sea-sickness of the voyage and after +fracturing a leg on the way, he had the bad luck to receive his +discharge fifteen days after his arrival. He was left without a single +<i>cuarto</i>.</p> + +<p>Distrusting the sea, he did not wish to return to Spain without +having made a fortune. So he decided to devote himself to something. +Spanish pride did not permit him to do any manual labor. The poor man +would have worked with pleasure to have earned an honorable living, but +the prestige of the Spaniard did not permit this, nor did that prestige +provide him with the necessities of life.</p> + +<p>At first he lived at the expense of some of his countrymen, but, as +Tiburcio had some self-respect, the bread was sour to him, and instead +of getting fat he grew thin. As he had neither knowledge of any +science, money nor recommendations, his countrymen, in order to get rid +of him, advised him to go to some of the provinces and pass himself off +as a Doctor of Medicine. At first, he did not like the idea, and +opposed the plan, for although he had been a servant in the San Carlos +Hospital, he had not learned anything about the science of healing, his +duty having been to dust off the benches and light the fires, and, even +in this work, he had served only a short time. But as necessity was +pressing him hard, and as his friends pointed out the vanity of his +scruples, he took their advice, went into the provinces and began to +visit the sick, charging as much for his services as his conscience +permitted. Later on he began to charge dearly and to put a high price +on his visits. On this account, he was at once taken to be a great +doctor and would probably have made his fortune, had not the attention +of the Protective Medical Society of Manila, been called to his +exorbitant charges and to his harmful competition.</p> + +<p>Private citizens and professors interceded in his behalf. +“Man!” said the zealous Doctor C. in speaking of him. +“Let him make his little money. Let him make <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb152" href="#pb152">152</a>]</span>his little six or +seven thousand <i>pesos</i>. He will be able to return to his native +land then and live in peace. What does it matter to you? Let him +deceive the unwary natives. Then they may become smarter. He is a poor, +unhappy fellow. Do not take the bread from his mouth. Be a good +Spaniard!”</p> + +<p>Doctor C. was a good Spaniard and he winked at the matter. But when +the facts reached the ears of the people, they began to lose confidence +in him, and little by little Don Tiburcio Espadaña lost his +clientage, and found himself almost obliged to beg for bread day by +day. Then it was that he learned from a friend of his, who was also a +friend of Doña Victorina about the position of that woman, and +about her patriotism and good heart. Don Tiburcio saw in her a bit of +blue sky and asked to be presented.</p> + +<p>Doña Victorina and Don Tiburcio met. <i lang="la">Tarde +venientibus ossa</i>, he would have exclaimed if he had known Latin. +She was no longer passable, she was past. Her abundant hair had been +reduced to a wad about the size of an onion top, as the servants were +wont to describe it. Her face was full of wrinkles and her teeth had +begun to loosen. Her eyes had also suffered, and considerably, too. She +had to squint frequently when she cared to look off at a certain +distance. Her character was the only thing that had remained +unchanged.</p> + +<p>At the end of half an hour’s conversation, they came to an +understanding and accepted each other. She would have preferred a +Spaniard less lame, less of a stammerer, less bald, one with more +teeth, one of more rank and social standing, or <i> +categoría</i>, as she called it. But this class of Spaniards +never came to ask her hand. She had heard, too, more than once that +“opportunity is bald,” and she honestly believed that Don +Tiburcio was that very opportunity, for on account of his dark days he +had prematurely lost his hair. What woman is not prudent at +thirty-two?</p> + +<p>Don Tiburcio, for his part, felt a vague melancholy when he thought +of his honeymoon. He smiled with resignation especially when he called +the phantom of hunger to his aid. He had never had ambition or +pretensions. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb153" href= +"#pb153">153</a>]</span>His tastes were simple, his thoughts limited; +but his heart, untouched till then, had dreamed of a very different +divinity. In his youth when, tired by his day’s labor, after a +frugal meal, he lay down on a poor bed, he dreamed of a smiling, +affectionate image. Afterward, when his sorrows and privations +increased, the years passed and his poetical dreams were not fulfilled, +he thought merely of a good woman, a willing hand, a worker, who might +afford him a small dowry, console him when tired from labor, and +quarrel with him from time to time. Yes, he was thinking of the +quarrels as a happiness! But when, obliged to wander from country to +country, in search no longer of a fortune, but of some commodity to +sustain his life for the remainder of his days; when, deluded by the +accounts of his countrymen who came from beyond the seas, he embarked +for the Philippines—then the vision of a housekeeper gave way to +an image of an arrogant <i>mestiza</i>, a beautiful native with large +black eyes, draped in silks and transparent garments, loaded with +diamonds and gold, offering him her love and her carriages.</p> + +<p>He arrived in the Philippines and believed that he was about to +realize his dream, for the young women who, in silver-plated carriages, +frequented the Luneta and the Malecon, Manila’s popular and +fashionable drives, looked at him with a certain curiosity. Later, when +this curiosity on their part had ceased, the <i>mestiza</i> disappeared +from his dreams, and with great labor he formed in his mind a picture +of a widow, but an agreeable widow. So it was that when he saw only +part of his dream taking on real form, he became sad. But he was +somewhat of a philosopher and said to himself: “That was a dream, +but in the world one does not live in dreams.” Thus he settled +all his doubts; she wasted a lot of rice powder on her cheeks. Pshaw! +When they were once married he would make her stop that easily enough; +she had many wrinkles in her face, but his coat had more bare spots and +patches; she was old, pretentious, and imperious, but hunger was more +imperious, and still more pretentious; and then, too, he had a sweet +disposition, and, who could tell?—love modifies character; she +spoke Spanish <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb154" href= +"#pb154">154</a>]</span>very badly, but he himself did not speak it +well; at least, the head of the Customs department had so notified him +in his discharge from his position, and besides, what did it matter? +What if she was old and ridiculous? He was lame, toothless and bald. +When some friend jested with him, he would respond: “Give me +bread and call me a fool.”</p> + +<p>Don Tiburcio was what is vulgarly called a man who would not harm a +fly. He was modest and incapable of conceiving an evil thought. He +would have made a good missionary had he lived in olden times. His stay +in the country had not given him that conviction of his own +superiority, of his own worth, and of his high importance, which the +larger part of his countrymen acquire in a few weeks in the +Philippines. His heart had never been able to conceive hatred for +anybody or anything. He had not yet been able to find a revolutionist. +He only looked upon the people as unhappy beings whom it was fitting +for him to deprive of a little of their wealth in order to prevent +himself becoming even more unhappy than they. When they tried to make a +case against him for passing as a doctor without a proper license, he +did not resent it, he did not complain. He saw the justice of the case, +and only replied: “But it is necessary to live!”</p> + +<p>So they were married and went to Santa Aña to pass their +honeymoon. But on the night of the wedding Doña Victorina had a +bad attack of indigestion. Don Tiburcio gave thanks to God and showed +solicitude and care. On the second night, however, he conducted himself +like an honorable man, but on the day following, when he looked in the +mirror at his bare gums, he smiled with melancholy: he had grown ten +years older at least.</p> + +<p>Doña Victorina, charmed with her husband, had a good set of +front teeth made for him, and had the best tailors in the city dress +and equip him. She ordered carriages and <i>calesas</i>, sent to +Batangas and Albay provinces for the finest spans of horses, and even +obliged him to make two entries in the coming horse races.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, while she was transforming her husband, she did not +forget her own person. She laid aside the silk <i>saya</i> or Filipino +skirt and <i>piña</i> cloth bodice, for <span class="pagenum"> +[<a id="pb155" href="#pb155">155</a>]</span>a dress of European style. +She substituted false curls in front for the simple hair dress of the +Filipinos. Her dresses, which fitted her “divinely bad,” +disturbed the peace and tranquillity of the entire neighborhood.</p> + +<p>The husband never went out of the house afoot—she did not want +people to see that he was lame. He always took her for drives through +the places most deserted, much to her pain, for she wanted to display +her husband on the drives most frequented by the public. But out of +respect for their honeymoon, she kept silent.</p> + +<p>The last quarter of the honeymoon had just begun when he wanted to +stop her from using rice powder on her cheeks, saying to her that it +was false and not natural. Doña Victorina frowned and looked +squarely at his front set of teeth. He at once became silent, and she +learned his weakness.</p> + +<p>She soon got the idea that she was to become a mother and made the +following announcement to all her friends: “Next month, we, I and +de Espadaña are going to the <i>Peñinsula</i>.<a class= +"noteref" id="xd0e4068src" href="#xd0e4068">1</a> I don’t want to +have my son born here and have them call him a +revolutionist.”</p> + +<p>She added a <i>de</i> to her husband’s name. The <i>de</i> did +not cost anything and gave <i>categoría</i> to the name. When +she signed herself, she wrote Victorina de los Reyes de de +Espadaña. That <i>de</i> de Espadaña was her mania. +Neither the lithographer who printed her cards, nor her husband, could +get the idea out of her head.</p> + +<p>“If I do not put more than one <i>de</i> in the name people +will think that I haven’t it, fool!” said she to her +husband.</p> + +<p>She was talking continually about her preparations for the voyage to +Spain. She learned by memory the names of the points where the steamers +called, and it was a pleasure to hear her talk—“I am going +to see the <i>sismus</i> of the Suez Canal. De Espadaña thinks +that it is the most beautiful, and De Espadaña has seen the +whole world.”—“I will probably never return to this +land of savages.”—“I was not born to live here. Aden +or Port Said would be more suitable for me. I have always <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb156" href="#pb156">156</a>]</span>thought so since +I was a child.” Doña Victorina, in her geography, divided +the world into two parts, the Philippines and Spain. In this she +differed from the lower class of people in Madrid for they divide it +into Spain and America, or Spain and China, America and China being +merely different names for the same country.</p> + +<p>The husband knew that some of these things were barbarisms, but he +kept silent so that she would not mock him and twit him with his +stammering. She feigned to be whimsical in order to increase her +illusion that she was a mother, and she began to dress herself in +colors, adorn herself with flowers and ribbons, and to walk through the +Escolta in a wrapper. But oh! what an illusion! Three months passed and +the dream vanished. By this time, having no fear that her son would be +a revolutionist, she gave up the voyage. She consulted doctors, +mid-wives and old women, but all in vain. To the great displeasure of +Captain Tiago she made fun of San Pascual Bailon, as she did not care +to run to any saint. On account of this a friend of her <span class= +"corr" id="xd0e4099" title="Source: huband">husband</span> told +her:</p> + +<p>“Believe me, Señora, you are the only <i lang="es"> +espiritu fuerte</i> (strong-minded person) in this country.”</p> + +<p>She smiled without understanding what <i lang="es">espiritu +fuerte</i> meant, but, at night, when it was time to be sleeping, she +asked her husband about it.</p> + +<p>“Daughter,” replied he, “the +e—espir—espiritu most fu-fuerte that I know—know +about is a—a—ammonia. My fr-fr-friend must have be-been +us-using a figure of rhetoric.”</p> + +<p>From that time on, she was always saying, whenever she could, +“I am the only ammonia in this country, speaking rhetorically, as +Señor N. de N. who is from the <i>Peñinsula</i> and who +has much <i>categoría</i>, puts it.”</p> + +<p>Whatever she said had to be done. She had come to dominate her +husband completely. On his part, he offered no great resistance, and +was converted into a little lap dog for her. If he incommoded her she +would not let him go out for a drive, and when she became really +infuriated, she would snatch out his false teeth and leave <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb157" href="#pb157">157</a>]</span>him a +horrible-looking man for one or more days, according to the +offense.</p> + +<p>It occurred to her that her husband ought to be a Doctor of Medicine +and Surgery, and so she expressed herself to him.</p> + +<p>“Daughter! Do you want them to arrest me?” he said, +frightened.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be a fool. Let me arrange it!” she replied. +“You are not going to attend any one, but I want them to call you +a doctor and me a <i>doctora</i>, eh?”</p> + +<p>And on the following day Rodoreda, a prominent marble dealer in +Manila, received an order for the following engraving on black marble: +<span class="smallcaps">Dr. De Espadaña, Specialist in All Kinds +of Diseases.</span></p> + +<p>All of the servants had to give them their new titles, and, in +consequence of it all, she increased the number of her curls in front, +the layer of rice powder, the ribbons and laces, and looked with more +disdain than ever on the poor and less fortunate women of her country, +who had less <i>categoría</i> than she. Each day she felt +herself more dignified and elevated, and, following along this road, in +less than a year she would think herself of divine origin.</p> + +<p>These sublime thoughts, however, did not prevent her from growing +more ridiculous and older each day. Every time that Captain Tiago met +her in the street and remembered that he had once made love to her in +vain, he would go at once to the church and give a <i>peso</i> for a +mass as a thank offering for his good luck in not marrying her. In +spite of this, Captain Tiago highly respected her husband, on account +of his title of “specialist in all kinds of diseases,” and +he listened with close attention to the few phrases that he managed to +stutter out. In fact, it was on account of this title and the fact that +the doctor did not attend everybody, that the Captain chose him to +attend his daughter.</p> + +<p>As to the young man Linares, it is a different story. When she was +making ready for her voyage to Spain, Doña Victorina thought of +having an administrator from the <i>Peñinsula</i> to look after +her affairs, for she did not trust Filipinos. Her husband remembered a +nephew in <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb158" href= +"#pb158">158</a>]</span>Madrid who was studying to become a lawyer, and +who was considered the smartest one in his family. They wrote to him, +then, sending him in advance money for the passage, and, when the dream +was dispelled, the young man was already on his way.</p> + +<p>These are the three persons who had just arrived.</p> + +<p>While they were eating their breakfast, Father Salví arrived, +and, as the husband and wife had already met the friar, they presented +him to the young Linares, with all his titles. The young man +blushed.</p> + +<p>As was natural they spoke of Maria Clara. The young maiden was +resting and sleeping. They talked over the voyage. Doña +Victorina showed her verbosity by criticising the customs of the +provinces, the <i>nipa</i> houses, the bamboo bridges, without +forgetting to tell the curate about her friendship with the Commander +of the Army, the <i>Alcalde</i> so and so, Judge so and so of the +Supreme Court, and with the governor of the province, all persons of +<i>categoría</i>, who had much consideration for her.</p> + +<p>“If you had come two days before, Dona Victorina,” +replied Captain Tiago during a short pause, “you would have met +His Excellency, the Governor General. He sat right there.”</p> + +<p>“What? How’s that? Was His Excellency here? And in your +house? A lie!”</p> + +<p>“I tell you he sat right there. If you had come two days +before——”</p> + +<p>“Ah! What a shame that little Clara did not fall sick +before!” exclaimed she, in real sorrow. And directing herself to +Linares: “Do you hear, cousin? His Excellency was here! You see +De Espadaña was right when he told you that we were not going to +the house of a miserable native. For you should know, Don Santiago, +that our cousin was a friend of all the Ministers in Madrid and all the +Dukes, and he dined in the house of Count del Campanario +(belfry).”</p> + +<p>“Duke de la Torre (tower), Victorina,” said her husband, +correcting her.</p> + +<p>“It amounts to the same thing. Do you think you can tell me +that——”</p> + +<p>“Would I find Father Dámaso in town to-day?” +interrupted <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb159" href= +"#pb159">159</a>]</span>Linares, turning to Father Salví. +“They have told me that he is near here.”</p> + +<p>“He is, precisely, and will come here in a little +while,” replied the curate.</p> + +<p>“How glad I am! I have a letter for him,” exclaimed the +young man. “And if it had not been for this happy chance which +brought me here, I would have come expressly to visit him.”</p> + +<p>“The happy chance—that is, Maria Clara—had, in the +meantime awakened.”</p> + +<p>“De Espadaña!” said Doña Victorina, +finishing her breakfast. “Are we going to see little +Clara?” And turning to Captain Tiago, “For you only, Don +Santiago; for you alone! My husband does not treat anybody except +people of <i>categoría</i>, and he even refuses some of them! My +husband is not like those about here—in Madrid he only visited +people of <i>categoría</i>.”</p> + +<p>They passed into the sick room.</p> + +<p>The room was almost dark. The windows were shut for fear of a +draught, and the little light which illuminated the room came from the +two wax candles which were burning in front of an image of the Virgin +of Antipolo.</p> + +<p>Her head wrapped up in a handkerchief, saturated in cologne water, +her body wrapped in wide folds of white sheets which outlined her +virginal form, the sick maiden lay on her bed of <i>kamakon</i><a +class="noteref" id="xd0e4210src" href="#xd0e4210">2</a> among <i> +jusi</i> and <i>piña</i> curtains. Her hair, forming a frame +around her oval face, increased her transparent paleness, which was +animated only by her large eyes full of sadness. At her side were her +two friends and Andeng.</p> + +<p>De Espadaña felt of her pulse, examined her tongue, asked +some questions, and shaking his head seriously, said:</p> + +<p>“Sh-sh-she is si-sick. But we-we-we can cu-cu-cure +her.”</p> + +<p>Doña Victorina looked with pride at those around her.</p> + +<p>“A li-lichen in mil-milk in the-the morning; syrup of marsh +marsh-mal-mallow, tw-o—two hounds’—hounds’ +tongue pi-pills,” ordered De Espadaña. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb160" href="#pb160">160</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Take courage, little Clara,” said Doña +Victorina, approaching her. “We have come to cure you. I am going +to present our cousin to you.”</p> + +<p>Linares was absorbed, contemplating those eloquent eyes which seemed +to be seeking some one, and he did not hear Doña Victorina call +him.</p> + +<p>“Señor Linares,” said the curate, calling him out +of his ecstacy. “Here comes Father Dámaso.”</p> + +<p>In fact, Father Dámaso was coming, pale and somewhat sad. On +leaving his bed, his first visit was to Maria Clara. He was no longer +the Father Dámaso that he had been, so robust and talkative. He +now walked along in silence and with unsteady footsteps. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb161" href="#pb161">161</a>]</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e4068src" id="xd0e4068">1</a></span> A wrong pronunciation of the +Spanish Peninsula meaning Spain.</p> + +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e4210src" id="xd0e4210">2</a></span> A costly and rich wood like +ebony.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id="ch25" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXV.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Schemes.</h2> + +<p>Without paying attention to anybody, Father Dámaso went +straight to the sick room and took hold of Maria’s hand.</p> + +<p>“Maria!” said he, with indescribable tenderness, as +tears dropped from his eyes. “Maria, my child, you are not going +to die!”</p> + +<p>Maria opened her eyes and looked at him with surprise.</p> + +<p>None who knew the Franciscan suspected that he ever had such tender +thoughts. No one ever supposed that a heart existed under that gross +and rude aspect.</p> + +<p>Father Dámaso could say no more and left the maiden, weeping +like a child. He went out through the room at the head of the stairs, +to give free vent to his grief, on Maria Clara’s balcony under +her favorite vines.</p> + +<p>“How he loves his god-daughter!” thought they all.</p> + +<p>Father Salví witnessed the scene, immovable and silent, +lightly biting his lips.</p> + +<p>When his grief was somewhat soothed, Father Dámaso was +introduced by Doña Victorina to the young Linares, who +approached the friar with respect.</p> + +<p>Father Dámaso gazed at him in silence from head to foot. He +took the letter which the young man handed to him and read it +apparently without understanding it, for he asked him:</p> + +<p>“And who are you?”</p> + +<p>“Alfonso Linares, the god-son of your brother-in-law,” +stammered the young man.</p> + +<p>Father Dámaso leaned back and examined the young man again. +His face brightened up and he rose to his feet.</p> + +<p>“And so you are the god-son of little Charles!” he +exclaimed. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb162" href= +"#pb162">162</a>]</span>“Come here and let me embrace you. It was +some days ago that I received your letter. So it is you! I did not know +you—but that is easily explained, for you were not yet born when +I left the country. I never knew you.”</p> + +<p>And Father Dámaso stretched out his robust arms to the young +man who blushed, either from shame or suffocation. Father Dámaso +seemed to have completely forgotten his grief.</p> + +<p>After the first moments of effusion had passed, and questions had +been asked about Carlicos, as he called little Charles, Father +Dámaso asked:</p> + +<p>“Well. What does Carlicos want me to do for you?”</p> + +<p>“I believe he says something in the letter,” stammered +Linares again.</p> + +<p>“In the letter? Let us see. ’Tis so! And he wants me to +get you a job and a wife! Hm! Employment—employment: that is +easy. Do you know how to read and write?”</p> + +<p>“I have graduated in law from the Central +University.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Carambas!</i> So you are a pettifogger? Well, you +don’t look it—you look more like a young gentleman. But so +much the better! But to find you a wife—hm! hm! a +wife.”</p> + +<p>“Father, I am not in a hurry about it,” said Linares, +confused.</p> + +<p>But Father Dámaso began to walk from one end of the room to +the other, muttering: “A wife! A wife!”</p> + +<p>His face by this time was no longer sad, nor was it cheerful. It +expressed the greatest seriousness and he seemed to be meditating. +Father Salví surveyed the scene from a distance.</p> + +<p>“I did not believe that it could give me such pain,” +murmured Father Dámaso in a mournful voice. “But of two +evils the lesser.”</p> + +<p>And raising his voice and approaching Linares, he said:</p> + +<p>“Come here, my boy! We will speak with Santiago.”</p> + +<p>Linares turned pale and allowed himself to be led along by the +priest, who was deep in thought. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb163" +href="#pb163">163</a>]</span></p> + +<p>Then it was Father Salví’s turn to walk up and down the +room and he did so, meditating, as was his custom.</p> + +<p>A voice bidding him good morning stopped his monotonous tread. He +raised his head and his eyes met Lucas, who saluted him humbly.</p> + +<p>“What do you want?” asked the eyes of the curate.</p> + +<p>“Father, I am the brother of the man who was killed on the day +of the <i>fiesta</i>,” replied Lucas, in a tearful tone.</p> + +<p>Father Salví stepped back.</p> + +<p>“And what of it?” he muttered, in an unintelligible +voice.</p> + +<p>Lucas made an effort to weep, and dried his eyes with his +handkerchief.</p> + +<p>“Father,” said he, crying, “I have been to +Crisostomo’s house to ask him for indemnity. At first, he +received me with kicks, saying that he would not pay anything, since he +had run the risk of being killed through the fault of my dear, +unfortunate brother. Yesterday, I went to talk with him again, but he +had already left for Manila, leaving me for charity’s sake five +hundred <i>pesos</i> for my poor brother—five hundred <i> +pesos</i>—ah! Father.”</p> + +<p>The curate listened to the first part of his story with surprise and +attention, but slowly there appeared on his lips a smile—a smile +of such contempt and sarcasm at the comedy that was being played, that +if Lucas had seen it he would have fled in all haste.</p> + +<p>“And what do you want now?” he asked, turning his back +to him.</p> + +<p>“Alas! Father, for love of God tell me what I ought to do. +Father, you have always given good advice.”</p> + +<p>“Who has told you that? You do not live here.”</p> + +<p>“But the whole province knows you, Father!”</p> + +<p>Father Salví went up to him with his eyes full of anger and, +motioning to the street, said to the frightened Lucas:</p> + +<p>“Go to your house and give thanks to Don Crisostomo that he +has not sent you to jail. Get away from here.”</p> + +<p>Forgetting his rôle, Lucas muttered:</p> + +<p>“Well, I thought——” <span class="pagenum"> +[<a id="pb164" href="#pb164">164</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Out of here!” cried Father Salví, in a nervous +tone.</p> + +<p>“I want to see Father Dámaso.”</p> + +<p>“Father Dámaso is busy. Out of here!” ordered the +curate, in an imperative tone, again.</p> + +<p>Lucas went down the stairs murmuring: “He is another. How +poorly he pays! He who pays better....”</p> + +<p>The voice of the curate had reached the ears of all in the house, +even Father Dámaso, Captain Tiago and Linares.</p> + +<p>“An insolent beggar who came to ask alms and doesn’t +want to work,” said Father Salví, taking his hat and cane +and starting toward the convent. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb165" +href="#pb165">165</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch26" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXVI.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The Persecuted.</h2> + +<p>By the dim light which the moon diffused through the thick branches +of the trees, a man wandered along the forest trails slowly and +cautiously. From time to time, as if to find out where he was, he +whistled a particular melody, to which another in the distance +responded with the same air. The man listened attentively, and +afterward proceeded in the direction of the distant sound.</p> + +<p>Finally, passing through the thousand difficulties which a virgin +forest offers in the night time, he came to a small clearing. High +rocks, crowned with trees, surrounded the place, forming a sort of +ruined amphitheatre. Recently cut trees, with their charred trunks and +enormous rocks, which Nature had covered with her mantle of green +foliage, filled the middle of the open space.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had the unknown man arrived, when another figure quickly +appeared from behind one of the large rocks, advanced and drew a +revolver.</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” he asked in Tagalog and, in an imperious +voice, as he cocked the hammer of his weapon.</p> + +<p>“Is old Pablo among you?” asked the first calmly, +without replying to the question or becoming intimidated.</p> + +<p>“Do you refer to the Captain? Yes, he is.”</p> + +<p>“Tell him, then, that Elias is looking for him here,” +said the man.</p> + +<p>“Are you Elias?” asked the other with a certain respect, +and <span class="corr" id="xd0e4380" title="Source: aproaching"> +approaching</span> him without lowering his revolver. “Then +come.”</p> + +<p>Elias followed him.</p> + +<p>They penetrated into a kind of cavern, which was hollowed out in the +depths of the earth. The guide, who knew the way, told the pilot when +he ought to get down, stoop or crawl. However, it was not long before +they came to a <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb166" href= +"#pb166">166</a>]</span><i>sala</i> or room in the cave, miserably +illuminated by pitch torches, and occupied by twelve or fifteen armed +men. The faces of the men were dirty and their clothes ragged; some +were sitting down, others lying down, conversing among themselves in a +low tone. Leaning his elbows on a stone which served as a table and +contemplating thoughtfully the lamp, which was shedding very little +light for the amount of smoke it made, sat an old man. His countenance +was sad, and his head wrapped in a bloody rag. If we had not known that +the place was a cave of <i>tulisanes</i>, we would have said, on +reading the desperation on the face of the old man, that it was the +Tower of Hunger on the eve when Ugolino devoured his sons.</p> + +<p>At the arrival of Elias and the guide, the men were about to arise, +but, at a signal from the guide, they were quieted and contented +themselves with examining the pilot, who was entirely unarmed.</p> + +<p>The old man turned his head slowly and his eyes met the sturdy +figure of Elias. The latter, in turn, with his head uncovered, full of +sadness and interest, gazed upon the old man.</p> + +<p>“Is it you?” asked the old man, his face brightening a +little as he recognized the youth.</p> + +<p>“How badly off you are!” murmured Elias, in an +half-intelligible tone of voice.</p> + +<p>The old man bowed in silence, made a sign to the men, who then arose +and left, not, however, without first directing glances at the pilot, +measuring his stature and muscles.</p> + +<p>“Yes!” said the old man to Elias as soon as they found +themselves alone. “Six months ago, I gave you refuge in my house. +Then, it was I who sympathized with you; now, fortune has changed and +it is you who pity me. But sit down, and tell me how you came +here.”</p> + +<p>“Some fifteen days ago they told me of your misfortune,” +replied the young man slowly, and in a low voice, looking toward the +light. “I at once set out on the road and I have been searching +for you from mountain to mountain. I have travelled over the greater +part of two provinces.</p> + +<p>“Rather than spill innocent blood,” said Pablo, “I +have <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb167" href= +"#pb167">167</a>]</span>had to flee. My enemies are afraid to show +themselves and shield themselves behind some unhappy fellows who have +never done me the slightest injury.”</p> + +<p>Then, after a short pause, of which Elias took advantage to read the +thoughts in that melancholy countenance, he replied:</p> + +<p>“I have come to make a proposition. Having searched in vain +for some member of the family which has caused me my misfortunes, I +have decided to leave the province where I am living and to emigrate to +the north and live there among the heathen and independent tribes. Do +you want to leave this life and go with me? I will be your son, since +you have lost those whom you had, and I, who have no family, will take +you as my father.”</p> + +<p>The old man shook his head and said:</p> + +<p>“At my age, when a person makes a desperate resolution it is +because there is no other course open. A man who, like me has passed +his youth and the best years of his life working for his own future and +for the future of his sons, a man who has been submissive to all the +wishes of his superiors, who has discharged conscientiously all his +duties, suffered everything in order to live in peace and in +tranquillity; when such a man, whose blood has been chilled by Time, +renounces all his past and all his future, on the very edge of his +grave—when a man does this, it is because he has decided with +mature judgment that peace does not exist, and that there is no Supreme +Good. What use is there in living a few miserable days in a foreign +land? I had two sons, a daughter, a fireside, a fortune. I enjoyed +consideration and esteem. Now I am like a tree that has been stripped +of its branches; a wandering fugitive, hunted like a wild beast in the +forest, and all—why? Because a man dishonored my daughter, +because her brothers wanted to make that man account for his infamous +deed, and because that man is placed above all others with a title of +Minister of God. But despite it all, I, a father, I, dishonored in my +old age, pardoned the injury, for I was indulgent with the passions of +youth and the weakness of the flesh, and, as the evil was irreparable, +I wanted to save what still remained to me. But the criminal, afraid +that vengeance was near at hand, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb168" +href="#pb168">168</a>]</span>sought the destruction of my sons. What +did he do? You do not know? Do you know how they feigned that there had +been a robbery in the convent and how one of my sons figured among the +accused? The other son they could not include because he was away. Do +you know the tortures to which they were submitted? You know them +because they are like those in other towns. I saw my son hung by the +hair, I heard his cries, I heard him call me, and, coward that I was, +and, accustomed to peace, I was not brave enough to kill or be killed. +Do you know that the robbery was not proved, that it was seen that it +was a calumny, that the curate was transferred to another town and that +my son died from the result of his tortures? The other boy, who was +still left for me, was not a coward like his father. The executioner +was afraid that this son would take revenge for the death of his +brother and so, under pretense of his not having a <i>cedula</i>,<a +class="noteref" id="xd0e4425src" href="#xd0e4425">1</a> which for the +moment had been forgotten, he was imprisoned by the Civil Guard, +maltreated, irritated and provoked by force and injuries until he was +driven to suicide. And I have survived after such a disgrace. But, if I +had not the courage of a father to defend his sons, I have left a heart +to take vengeance and I shall be revenged! The discontented are uniting +under my command, my enemies increase my camp, and on that day when I +consider myself strong enough I will go down into the plain and +extinguish in fire both my vengeance and my own existence. And that day +will come or there is no God!”</p> + +<p>The old man rose to his feet deeply agitated. With his eyes +sparkling like fire and, in a hollow voice, he added, tearing his long +hair:</p> + +<p>“Curses upon me, curses upon me for having restrained the +avenging hand of my sons. I have assassinated them! Had I allowed them +to kill the criminal; had I had less faith in the justice of God and of +men, I would now have my sons; perhaps they would have been fugitives, +but I would have them and they would not have died in torture. I was +not born to be a father! For that reason, I <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb169" href="#pb169">169</a>]</span>haven’t them with me now! +Curses upon me for not having learned, with all my years, in what age +we live! But in blood and fire, and in my own death, I will know how to +take vengeance for them!”</p> + +<p>The unfortunate father, in the paroxysm of his grief, had taken off +the bandage from his head, opening up a wound which he had on the +forehead and from which the blood oozed out.</p> + +<p>“I respect your grief,” replied Elias, “and I +understand your desire for vengeance. I, too, am like you, but, for +fear of harming an innocent one, I prefer to forget my +misfortunes.”</p> + +<p>“You can forget them because you are young, and because you +have not lost your son, have not lost your last hope! But, I assure +you, I will not harm an innocent person. Do you see that wound? I +allowed myself to receive that in order not to kill a poor <i> +cuaderillero</i> who was fulfilling his duty.”</p> + +<p>“But see!” said Elias, after a moment’s silence. +“See what frightful destruction you will bring upon our +unfortunate country. If you seek revenge by your own hand your enemies +will retaliate, not against you, not against those who are armed, but +against the people, who are always accused, and then how many more +injustices!”</p> + +<p>“Let the people learn to defend themselves. Let each learn to +defend himself.”</p> + +<p>“You know that that is impossible. Señor, I have known +you in other times when you were happy, then you gave me wise advice. +Will you permit me...?”</p> + +<p>The old man crossed his arms and seemed to meditate upon what he was +going to say.</p> + +<p>“Señor,” continued Elias, measuring his words +well, “I have had the fortune to be of service to a young man, +rich, of good heart, noble, and a lover of his country’s welfare. +They say that this young man has friends in Madrid. I do not know it, +but I can positively assure you that he is a friend of the Governor +General. What do you say if we make him the bearer of the +people’s complaints, if we can interest him in the cause of the +unhappy?”</p> + +<p>The old man shook his head.</p> + +<p>“Do you say that he is a rich man? The rich think of <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb170" href="#pb170">170</a>]</span>nothing but +to increase their riches. Pride and pomp blind them, and, since they +are generally well off, especially if they have powerful friends, none +of them ever troubles himself about the unfortunates. I know it all, +for I was once rich myself.”</p> + +<p>“But the man of whom I am speaking does not seem to be like +the others. He is a son who would not allow the memory of his father to +be dishonored. He is a young man who thinks about the +future—thinks of a good future for his sons, for he may in a +short time have a family of his own.”</p> + +<p>“Then he is a man who is going to be happy. Our cause is not a +cause for happy men.”</p> + +<p>“But it is a cause for men of good hearts.”</p> + +<p>“That may be,” replied the old man sitting down. +“Suppose that he consented to carry our complaints to the +Governor General. Suppose that he finds in the court those who will +argue for us. Do you think we will get justice?”</p> + +<p>“Let us try it before resorting to bloody measures,” +replied Elias. “It must seem strange to you that I, another +unfortunate, young, robust—that I should propose to you old and +weak—peaceful measures. But it is because I have seen so many +miseries caused by us similar to those caused by tyrants. The unarmed +is the one who suffers.”</p> + +<p>“And if we do not accomplish anything?”</p> + +<p>“Something will be accomplished, believe me! Not all who +govern are unjust. And if we do not accomplish anything, if our voice +is not listened to, if the man turns a deaf ear to the grief of his +fellow men, then we will put ourselves under your orders.”</p> + +<p>The old man, full of enthusiasm, embraced the young man.</p> + +<p>“I accept your proposition, Elias. I know that you will keep +your word. You come to me and I will help you take vengeance for your +father. You will help me to take vengeance for my sons—my sons +who were like you!”</p> + +<p>“In the meantime, Señor, avoid all violent +measures.”</p> + +<p>“You can expound the complaints of the people. You certainly +know them. When will we know the answer?”</p> + +<p>“Within four days send a man to meet me on the beach at San +Diego and I will tell him what the person <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb171" href="#pb171">171</a>]</span>in whom I have hope says. If he +accepts, we will get justice, and if he does not accept, I will be the +first to fall in the fight which we will begin.”</p> + +<p>“Elias will not die. Elias will be chief, when Captain Pablo +falls, satisfied in his revenge,” said the old man. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb172" href="#pb172">172</a>]</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e4425src" id="xd0e4425">1</a></span> Certificate of identification +required of all Filipinos under Spanish domination.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id="ch27" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXVII.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The Cock Fight.</h2> + +<p>In order to keep the Sabbath holy in the Philippines the people +generally go to the cock fight, just as in Spain they go to the bull +fight. Cock fighting, a passion introduced into the country and +exploited for a century, is one of the vices of the people, more deeply +rooted than the opium vice among the Chinese. The poor go there to risk +what little they have, desirous of making money without working; the +rich go there to amuse themselves, using the money which they have left +over from their feasts and thanksgiving masses. The cock is educated +with great care, with more care, perhaps, than the son who is to +succeed his father in the cock-pit. The Government permits it and +almost recommends it, for it decrees that the fight shall only be held +in the public plazas and on holidays from after high mass till +dark—eight hours.</p> + +<p>The San Diego cock-pit does not differ from others which are found +in all the towns. It consists of three parts: The first, or entrance, +is a large rectangle, some twenty meters in length and fourteen in +breadth. On one side is the door, generally guarded by a woman who +collects the entrance fee. From the contribution which each one makes +the Government receives a part, some hundred thousands of <i>pesos</i> +each year. They say that with this money, which gives license to the +vice, magnificent schools are raised, bridges and roadways constructed, +and rewards offered for the encouragement of agriculture and commerce. +Blessed be the vice which produces such good results! In this first +precinct are the <span class="corr" id="xd0e4500" title="Source: +venders">vendors</span> of betel nut, cigars and tobacco, delicacies +and refreshments. There the small boys, who accompany their fathers or +uncles, are carefully initiated into the secrets of life.</p> + +<p>This precinct communicates with another of slightly <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb173" href="#pb173">173</a>]</span>larger +dimensions, a sort of vestibule, where the people gather before the +fight. There, one sees most of the cocks, tied by a cord to a bone +driven into the ground like a nail; there, are the bettors, the lovers +of the sport, the man skilled in fastening the gaffs or spurs to the +cock’s legs; there, bargains are made, the situation discussed, +money borrowed, and people curse, swear and laugh boisterously. In one +place, some one is caressing his game cock, passing his hand over his +brilliant plumage; in another, a man examines and counts the number of +scales on the rooster’s legs, for that, they say, is a sign of +valor. The battles of the heroes are related. There, too, you will see +many a disappointed owner, with a sour face carrying out by the legs, a +dead rooster, stripped of its plumage—the animal which was a +favorite for months, petted, cared for day and night, and on which +flattering hopes had been founded: now, nothing more than a dead fowl, +to be sold for a <i>peseta</i>, stewed in ginger and eaten that very +night. <i>Sic transit gloria mundi!</i> The loser returns to his +fire-side, where an anxious wife and ragged children await him, without +his little capital, without his rooster. From all that gilded dream, +from all the care of months, from daybreak to sunset, from all those +labors and fatigue, from all that, results a <i>peseta</i>, the ashes +left from so much smoke.</p> + +<p>In this <i>foyer</i>, or vestibule, the most ignorant discuss the +coming contests; the most trifling, examine conscientiously the bird, +weigh it, contemplate it, extend its wings, feel of its muscles. Some +of the people are very well dressed, and are followed and surrounded by +the backers of their game cocks. Others, dirty, with the seal of vice +imprinted on their squalid faces, anxiously follow the movements of the +rich and watch their betting, for the pocketbook can be emptied and the +passion still be unsatisfied. There you see no face that is not +animated, no indolent Filipino; none apathetic, none silent. All is +movement, passion, eagerness.</p> + +<p>From this place, one passes into the arena or <i>rueda</i>, as it is +called. The floor, inclosed by bamboos, is generally elevated higher +than the floor of the other two parts of the cock-pit. Running up from +the floor and almost touching <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb174" +href="#pb174">174</a>]</span>the roof, are rows of seats for the +spectators or gamblers—they come to be the same. During the +combat these seats are filled with men and children who cry, shout, +perspire, quarrel, and blaspheme. Fortunately, scarcely any women visit +the cock-pit. In the <i>rueda</i> are the prominent men, the rich +class, the bettors, the bookmaker, and the referee. The cocks fight on +the ground, which is beaten down perfectly smooth, and there Destiny +distributes to families laughter or tears, feasts or hunger.</p> + +<p>As we enter, we can see the <i>gobernadorcillo</i>, Captain Pablo, +Captain Basilio, and Lucas, the man with the scar on his face who was +so disconsolate over the death of his brother.</p> + +<p>Captain Basilio approaches one of those present and asks him:</p> + +<p>“Do you know what cock Captain Tiago is going to +bring?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know, Señor. This morning two arrived, one of +them the <i>lásak</i> (black sprinkled with white) which whipped +the Consul’s <i>talisain</i> (red, sprinkled with +black).”</p> + +<p>“Do you think that my <i>bulik</i> (black, red and white), can +beat him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, I surely do. I’ll stake my house and shirt on +him!<span class="corr" id="xd0e4555" title="Source: +’">”</span></p> + +<p>At that moment Captain Tiago arrived. He was dressed, like the big +gamblers, in a <i>camisa</i> of Canton linen, woolen pantaloons, and a +panama-straw hat. Behind him came two servants, carrying the <i> +lásak</i> and a white cock of colossal proportions.</p> + +<p>“Sinang tells me that Maria Clara is improving +steadily,” said Captain Basilio.</p> + +<p>“She no longer has any fever, but she is still +weak.”</p> + +<p>“Did you lose last night?”</p> + +<p>“A little. I heard that you won.... I am going to see if I can +win back my money.”</p> + +<p>“Do you want to fight your <i>lásak</i>?” asked +Captain Basilio, looking at the rooster.</p> + +<p>“That depends on whether there is any money up.”</p> + +<p>“How much will you stake?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t play less than two thousand.” <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb175" href="#pb175">175</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Have you seen my <i>bulik</i>?” asked Captain Basilio, +and then called a man to bring a small rooster.</p> + +<p>Captain Tiago examined it, and after weighing it in his hand, and +examining its scales, he handed it back.</p> + +<p>“What do you put up?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Whatever you say.”</p> + +<p>“Two thousand five hundred?”</p> + +<p>“Make it three?”</p> + +<p>“Three.”</p> + +<p>“Let her go!”</p> + +<p>The circle of curious people and gamblers learn that the two +celebrated cocks are to be fought. Both the roosters have made a +history for themselves; both have a reputation. All want to see and +examine the two celebrities. Opinions are expressed, and prophecies +made.</p> + +<p>In the meantime the voices grow louder, the confusion is augmented, +the <i>rueda</i> fills up and a rush is made for the seats. The <i> +soltadores</i> bring two cocks to the ring for a preliminary contest. +One of the roosters is <i>blanco</i> (white), the other <i>rojo</i> +(red). They are already spurred, but the gaffs are not yet unsheathed. +Cries of “<i>Al blanco! al blanco!</i>” are heard. Some one +else shouts, “<i>Al rojo!</i>” The <i>blanco</i> is the +favorite.</p> + +<p>Civil Guards circulate among the crowd. They are not wearing the +uniform of their body, nor do they wear the costume of the native. +Pantaloons of <i>guingon</i> with a red fringe, a blue-spotted blouse +shirt, and the <i>cuartel</i> cap—you have here their disguise, +in harmony with their deportment; watching and betting, making +disturbance and talking of maintaining the peace.</p> + +<p>While the shouting is going on and men are jingling money in their +hands; while the people are going down in their pockets for the last +<i>cuarto</i>, or, if that is wanting, pledging their word, promising +to sell their <i>carabao</i>, or their next harvest, two young men, +apparently brothers, follow the gamblers with envious eyes. They +approach, timidly murmur words which nobody catches, and each time +become more and more melancholy, and look at each other with disgust +and indignation. Lucas observes them, smiles malignantly, rattles some +silver <i>pesos</i>, passes near to the two brothers, and looks toward +the <i>rueda</i>, shouting: <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb176" href= +"#pb176">176</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“I am betting fifty, fifty against twenty on the +white!”</p> + +<p>The two brothers <span class="corr" id="xd0e4657" title="Source: +exchange">exchanged</span> looks.</p> + +<p>“I told you,” murmured the older, “not to bet all +your money. If you had obeyed me, we would have it now to put on the +red.”</p> + +<p>The younger one approached Lucas timidly and touched him on the +arm.</p> + +<p>“Is it you?” exclaimed the latter turning around and +feigning surprise. “Does your brother accept my proposition or +did you come to bet?”</p> + +<p>“How can we bet when we have lost all?”</p> + +<p>“Then you accept?”</p> + +<p>“He does not want to! If you could lend us something: you have +already said that you knew us....”</p> + +<p>Lucas scratched his head, pulled down his <i>camisa</i> and +replied:</p> + +<p>“Yes, I know you. You are Tarsilo and Bruno, both young and +strong. I know that your brave father died from the result of the +hundred lashes which the soldiers gave him. I know that you do not +think of avenging him.”</p> + +<p>“You need not meddle in our history,” interrupted +Tarsilo, the older. “That is a disgrace. If we did not have a +sister, we would have been hanged long ago.”</p> + +<p>“Hanged? They only hang cowards, or some one who has no money +or protection. Certainly the mountains are near.”</p> + +<p>“A hundred against twenty on the <i>blanco</i>,” cried +one as he passed the group.</p> + +<p>“Loan us four <i>pesos</i> ... three ... two,” begged +the younger brother. “Presently I will return it to you doubled. +The fight is going to begin.”</p> + +<p>Lucas scratched his head again.</p> + +<p>“Tst! This money is not mine. Don Crisostomo has given it to +me for those who want to serve him. But I see that you are not like +your father. He was really courageous.”</p> + +<p>And, saying this, he went away from them, although not far.</p> + +<p>“Let us accept. What does it matter?” said Bruno to his +brother. “It amounts to the same thing whether you <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb177" href="#pb177">177</a>]</span>are hanged or +shot down. We poor serve for nothing else.”</p> + +<p>“You are right, but think of our sister.”</p> + +<p>In the meantime, the circle around the ring had been dispersed; the +fight was going to commence. The voices began to die away, and the two +<i>soltadores</i> and the skilled gaff fitter, were alone in the middle +of the <i>rueda</i>. At a signal from the referee, the sheaths were +removed from the razor-like knives on the cocks’ legs, and the +fine blades glistened in a menacing way.</p> + +<p>The two brothers, gloomy and silent, approached the ring and, +resting their faces against the bamboo railing, watched the +preparations. A man approached them and said in their ears: +“Hundred to ten on the <i>blanco</i>!”</p> + +<p>Tarsilo looked at him stupidly. Bruno elbowed his brother, who +responded with a grunt.</p> + +<p>The <i>soltadores</i> handle the roosters with masterly skill, +taking great care not to wound them. A deep silence reigns throughout +the pit. You would think that those present, with the exception of the +two <i>soltadores</i>, were horrible wax figures. The two roosters are +brought close together and allowed to pick at each other and thus +become irritated. Then they allow them to look at each other, so that +the poor little birds may know who has plucked out their feathers, and +with whom they should fight. The feathers around the neck stand up; +they look at each other fixedly; flashes of wrath escape from their +little, round eyes. The moment has come. The birds are placed on the +ground in the ring at a certain distance from each other.</p> + +<p>The cocks advance slowly. Their little steps are heard upon the hard +floor. Nobody speaks; nobody breathes. Lowering and raising their +heads, as if measuring each other with a look, the two roosters mutter +sounds, perhaps of threat or contempt. They have perceived the shining +blades. Danger animates them, and they turn toward each other decided, +but they stop at a short distance, and, as they look at each other, +they bow their heads and again raise their feathers on end. With their +natural valor, they rush at each other impetuously; they <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb178" href="#pb178">178</a>]</span>strike beak +against beak; breast against breast, blade against blade, and wing +against wing. The blows have been stopped with dexterity and skill, and +only a few feathers have fallen. They again measure each other! +Suddenly the <i>blanco</i> turns and, raising himself in the air, +flashes his death-dealing knife, but the <i>rojo</i> has already +doubled up his legs, ducked his head and the <i>blanco</i> has only cut +the air. Then, on touching the ground, to avoid being wounded from +behind, he turns quickly and faces the other. The red attacks him with +fury, but he defends himself with coolness. Not without reason was he +the favorite of the crowd. All, trembling and anxious, follow the +movements of the battle, now this one and now that one giving an +involuntary shout. The ground is being covered with red and white +feathers, tinged with blood. But the duel does not go to the one who +draws first blood. The Filipino here follows the laws laid down by the +Government, which say that the cock which is killed or flees loses the +fight. The blood now wets the ground; the blows are repeated, but the +victory is still undecided. Finally, making a supreme effort, the <i> +blanco</i> throws himself forward to give a last blow; he drives his +knife into the wing of the <i>rojo</i> and buries it among the bones. +But the <i>blanco</i> has been wounded in the breast, and both, weak +from loss of blood, and panting, fastened together, remain immovable +until the <i>blanco</i> falls, bleeds through his neck, kicks violently +and is in the agony of death. The <i>rojo</i>, pinned by his wing, is +held to the other’s side; and little by little he doubles up his +legs and slowly closes his eyes.</p> + +<p>Then the referee, in accordance with the regulations prescribed by +the Government, declares the <i>rojo</i> the winner. A wild and +prolonged outcry greets the decision, an outcry which is heard +throughout the town. He, who, from afar, hears the cry, understands +that the <i>dejado</i> has beaten the favorite, for otherwise the +outcry would not have lasted so long. So it happens among nations: when +a small nation succeeds in gaining a victory over a greater one, the +song and story of it last through centuries.</p> + +<p>“Do you see?” said Bruno, with indignation, to his <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb179" href="#pb179">179</a>]</span>brother, +“if you had taken my advice to-day, we would have had one hundred +<i>pesos</i>. On your account we are without a <i> +cuarto</i>.”</p> + +<p>Tarsilo did not reply, but, with wide-open eyes, looked around him +as if in search of some one.</p> + +<p>“There he is talking with Pedro,” added Bruno. “He +is giving him money—what a lot of money!”</p> + +<p>Tarsilo remained silent and thoughtful. With the arm of his <i> +camisa</i>, he wiped away the sweat which formed in drops on his +forehead.</p> + +<p>“Brother,” said Bruno, “I am decided, even if you +are not. The <i>lásak</i> ought to win and we ought not to lose +the opportunity. I want to bet on the next fight. What does it matter? +Thus, we will avenge our father.”</p> + +<p>“Wait!” said Tarsilo to him, and looked him in the eyes. +Both were pale. “I am with you. You are right. We will avenge our +father.”</p> + +<p>He stopped, however, and again wiped away the perspiration.</p> + +<p>“Why do you stop?” asked Bruno impatiently.</p> + +<p>“Do you know what fight is the next one? Is it worth the +trouble?”</p> + +<p>“What! Haven’t you heard? Captain Tiago’s <i> +lásak</i> against Captain Basilio’s <i>bulik</i>. +According to the run of luck, the <i>lásak</i> ought to +win.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! The <i>lásak</i>. I would bet ... but let us make +sure first.”</p> + +<p>Bruno made a gesture of impatience, but followed his brother. The +latter looked the rooster over carefully, thought about it, debated +with himself and asked a few questions. The unfortunate fellow was in +doubt. Bruno was nervous and looked at him angrily.</p> + +<p>“Why, don’t you see that wide scale which he has there +near the spur? Do you see those feet? What more do you want? Look at +those legs. Stretch out his wings. And that broken scale on top of that +wide one, and that double one?”</p> + +<p>Tarsilo did not hear him, he kept on examining the cock. The rattle +of silver coins reached his ears.</p> + +<p>“Let us see the <i>bulik</i> now,” said he, in a choking +voice. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb180" href= +"#pb180">180</a>]</span></p> + +<p>Bruno stamped the ground with his feet, grated his teeth, but obeyed +his brother.</p> + +<p>They approached the other group. There they were arming the cock, +they were selecting gaffs for him, and the expert, in fitting them to +the rooster’s legs, was preparing a piece of red silk. He waxed +it and rubbed it over his knee a number of times.</p> + +<p>Tarsilo gazed at the bird with a sombre air. It seemed that he was +not looking at the cock, but at something in the future. He passed his +hand over his forehead.</p> + +<p>“Are you ready?” he asked his brother, his voice +scarcely perceptible.</p> + +<p>“I? Long ago. Without having to see them.”</p> + +<p>“It is our poor sister——”</p> + +<p>“Bah! Didn’t they tell you that the leader is Don +Crisostomo? Have you not seen him walking with the Governor General? +What danger will we run?”</p> + +<p>“And if we are killed?”</p> + +<p>“What does it matter? Our father died from being whipped to +death.”</p> + +<p>“You are right.”</p> + +<p>Both brothers sought Lucas in the crowd.</p> + +<p>As soon as they caught sight of him, Tarsilo stopped.</p> + +<p>“No! Let us go away from here! We are going to lose,” he +exclaimed.</p> + +<p>“Go if you wish. I am going to accept.”</p> + +<p>“Bruno!”</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, a man approached them and said:</p> + +<p>“Are you betting? I am backing the <i>bulik</i>.”</p> + +<p>The two brothers did not reply.</p> + +<p>“I’ll give you odds.”</p> + +<p>“How much?” asked Bruno.</p> + +<p>The man counted out four <i>peso</i> pieces. Bruno looked at him, +breathless.</p> + +<p>“I have two hundred. Fifty to forty.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said Bruno promptly. “Make it ...”</p> + +<p>“All right! fifty to thirty.”</p> + +<p>“Double it if you wish!”</p> + +<p>“Well! The <i>bulik</i> is my winning color and I have just +won. Hundred against sixty!”</p> + +<p>“That’s a go! Wait till I go and get my money.” +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb181" href="#pb181">181</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“But I will be the stake-holder,” said the other, in +whom the manner of Bruno inspired little confidence.</p> + +<p>“It’s all the same to me!” responded the latter, +trusting in the strength of his fists.</p> + +<p><a id="xd0e4893"></a>And, turning to his brother, he said:</p> + +<p>“Go away, if you wish; I’m going to stay.”</p> + +<p>Then Tarsilo reflected. He loved his brother and the game. He could +not leave him alone, and he murmured. “Let it be so!”</p> + +<p>They approached Lucas. The latter saw them coming and smiled.</p> + +<p>“Eh! there!” said Tarsilo.</p> + +<p>“What is it?”</p> + +<p>“How much do you give?” asked the two brothers.</p> + +<p>“I have already told you. If you want to find some others to +help us surprise the <i>cuartel</i>, I will give you thirty <i> +pesos</i> apiece, and ten <i>pesos</i> for each companion you get. If +all comes out well, each will receive one hundred <i>pesos</i> and you +two, double that amount. Don Crisostomo is rich.”</p> + +<p>“Accepted,” exclaimed Bruno. “Hand over the +money.”</p> + +<p>“I knew well that you were brave, like your father. Come! +Don’t let them hear us or they will kill us,” said Lucas, +pointing to the Civil Guards.</p> + +<p>And taking them into a corner, he told them, as he counted out the +money to them:</p> + +<p>“To-morrow Don Crisostomo will arrive and bring arms. Day +after to-morrow, about eight o’clock at night, come to the +cemetery. I will tell you about the final arrangements. You have time +to find some other companions.”</p> + +<p>They took leave of each other. Now the two brothers seemed to have +changed their rôles. Tarsilo was calm; Bruno, pale. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb182" href="#pb182">182</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch28" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXVIII.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The Two Señoras.</h2> + +<p>While Captain Tiago was fighting his <i>lásak</i> against the +<i>bulik</i>, Doña Victorina took a walk through the town, with +the intention of seeing the condition of the indolent natives, and of +their houses and fields. She had dressed as elegantly as she could, +putting all her ribbons and flowers on her silk gown, in order to +impress the provincials, and make them see how great a distance was +between them and her sacred person. Giving her arm to her lame husband, +she fluttered through the streets of the town, among the stupefied and +wondering inhabitants. Cousin Linares had remained in the house.</p> + +<p>“What ugly houses these natives have,” began Doña +Victorina, making a grimace. “I don’t know how they can +live there: one must be a native to do it. They meet us and don’t +uncover their heads! Hit them over the head as the curates and <i> +tenientes</i> of the <i>Guardia Civil</i> do when they don’t take +off their hats. Teach them manners.”</p> + +<p>“And if they hit me?” asked Dr. de Espadaña.</p> + +<p>“Aren’t you a man?”</p> + +<p>“Bu—bu—but, I am +la—la—lame.”</p> + +<p>Doña Victorina was becoming bad-humored. The streets were not +paved, and the train of her gown was covered with dust. Besides, they +met many young women, who, on passing her, cast down their eyes and did +not admire her lavish dress as they should have done. Sinang’s +coachman, who was driving her and her cousin in an elegant carriage, +had the impudence to call out <i>tabi</i><a class="noteref" id= +"xd0e4963src" href="#xd0e4963">1</a> to them in such a warning voice +that she had to get out of the way, and was only able to exclaim, +“Look at that brute of a coachman! I am going to tell his master +that he should educate his servants better!” <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb183" href="#pb183">183</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Let us go back to the house,” she ordered her +husband.</p> + +<p>He, fearing that there was going to be a storm, turned on his heels +and obeyed the command.</p> + +<p>They met the <i>alferez</i> on the way back and greeted him. He +increased the discontent of Doña Victorina, for he not only +failed to compliment her on her dress, but surveyed it almost with a +mocking manner.</p> + +<p>“You ought not to extend your hand to a simple <i> +alferez</i>,” said she to her husband as soon as they were some +distance away. “He scarcely touches his helmet, and you take off +your hat. You don’t know how to maintain your rank.”</p> + +<p>“He is ch—ch—chief here!”</p> + +<p>“And what does that matter to us? Are we, perchance, +natives?”</p> + +<p>“You are right,” replied he, not wishing to quarrel.</p> + +<p>They passed by the officer’s house. Doña Consolacion +was in the window, as usual, dressed in her flannel outfit and smoking +her cigar. As the house was rather low, they could see each other as +they passed, and Doña Victorina could distinguish her very well. +The Muse of the <i>Guardia Civil</i> examined her with tranquillity +from head to foot, and, afterward, sticking out her lower lip, spit, +turning her face to the other side. That put an end to Doña +Victorina’s patience, and, leaving her husband without any +support, she squared herself in front of the <i>alfereza</i>, trembling +with rage, and unable to speak. Doña Consolacion turned her head +slowly, looked her over again, and then spit again, but with still +greater disdain.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter with you, Doña?” said the <i> +alfereza</i>.</p> + +<p>“Can you tell me, Señora, why you look at me so? Are +you envious?” Doña Victorina finally succeeded in +saying.</p> + +<p>“I envious of you?” said the Medusa with scorn. +“O, yes! I envy those curls.”</p> + +<p>“Come, wife!” said the doctor. +“Do—don’t take no—no—notice of +her!”</p> + +<p>“Let me give this shameless common person a lesson!” +replied the woman, giving her husband a push. He nearly fell to the +ground. Turning to Doña Consolacion, she continued:</p> + +<p>“Look how you treat me! Don’t think that I am a +provincial, or a soldiers’ <i>querida</i>! In my house in Manila +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb184" href= +"#pb184">184</a>]</span><i>alferezas</i> never are allowed to come in. +They wait at the door.”</p> + +<p>“Oh-oh! Most Excellent Señora! <i>Alferezas</i> +don’t enter, but invalids like that out there. Ha, ha, +ha!”</p> + +<p>If it hadn’t been for all the paint on her face, one could +have seen Doña Victorina blush. She wanted to throw herself upon +her enemy, but the sentry stopped her. In the meantime, the street was +filling up with curious people.</p> + +<p>“Listen! I lower myself talking with you. People of <i> +categoría</i> ... Do you want my clothes to wash? I will pay you +well. Do you think that I don’t know that you are a +washerwoman?”</p> + +<p>Doña Consolacion became furious. The reference to her being a +washerwoman wounded her.</p> + +<p>“Do you think that we do not know what you are? Get out! My +husband has already told me. Señora, I, at least, have not +belonged to more than one man, but you? One must be pretty hard up to +take the leavings.”</p> + +<p>This shot struck Doña Victorina square in the breast. She +rolled up her sleeves, clenched her fists, and, gnashing her teeth, +began:</p> + +<p>“Come down here, you nasty old thing, that I may smash your +filthy mouth.”</p> + +<p>The Medusa disappeared quickly from the window, but was soon seen +coming down the stairs on a run, swinging her husband’s whip.</p> + +<p>Don Tiburcio interposed, pleading with them, but they would have +come to blows if the <i>alferez</i> had not arrived.</p> + +<p>“But, señoras!... Don Tiburcio!”</p> + +<p>“Teach your woman better; buy her better clothes. If you +haven’t the money, rob the people. You have your soldiers for +that!” shouted Doña Victorina.</p> + +<p>“Señora,” said the <i>alferez</i> furiously. +“Thank yourself that I don’t forget that you are a woman; +for if you were not, I would kick you to pieces, with all your curls +and ribbons.”</p> + +<p>“Se—se—señor <i> +al—alferez</i>!” said Don Tiburcio.</p> + +<p>“Go ahead! Kill us! You don’t wear big enough trousers, +you quack.”</p> + +<p>And so the battle waged: words, gestures, cries, insults, and +injuries. They brought out all the nasty things they <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb185" href="#pb185">185</a>]</span>could think of, +all four speaking at the same time, and, saying so many things and +bringing to light so many truths, that we will not relate here all that +was said. The people who had gathered around to satisfy their +curiosity, if they understood all the remarks, must have enjoyed +themselves not a little. They were all waiting to see them come to +blows. Unfortunately for the spectators, the curate came along and +pacified them.</p> + +<p>“Señoras! señoras! What a shame. Señor +<i>alferez</i>.”</p> + +<p>“What are you meddling in these matters for, you hypocrite, +you Carlist?”</p> + +<p>“Don Tiburcio, take away your wife! Señora, hold your +tongue!”</p> + +<p>“Tell that to those robbers of the poor!”</p> + +<p>Finally, the dictionary of epithets was exhausted. The review of the +disgraces of each couple was ended, and little by little they were +separated, threatening and insulting each other. Father Salví +kept going from one side to the other, adding life to the scene.</p> + +<p>“This very day we will go to Manila and we will present +ourselves to the Governor General,” said Doña Victorina, +in fury to her husband. “You are not a man. It is a shame that +you spend money for trousers.”</p> + +<p>“B—b—but, wife, and the <i lang="es">Guardia +Civil</i>? I—I—am lame.”</p> + +<p>“You must challenge him to a duel with pistol or sword or, +or——”</p> + +<p>And Doña Victorina looked at his false teeth.</p> + +<p>“Daughter, I never have used——”</p> + +<p>Doña Victorina did not let him finish. With a sublime +movement she jerked out his false teeth in the middle of the street, +and throwing them to the ground stepped on them. He, half crying, and +she sputtering away, arrived at the house. At that time, Linares was +talking with Maria Clara, Sinang, and Victoria, and, as he knew nothing +about the quarrel, the sudden arrival of his cousins gave him a shock. +Maria Clara was lying on a sofa among pillows and blankets, and was not +a little surprised at the doctor’s new <span class="corr" id= +"xd0e5092" title="Source: physiogomy">physiognomy</span>.</p> + +<p>“Cousin,” said Doña Victorina, “you have +got to challenge the <i>alferez</i> immediately to a duel, +or——” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb186" href= +"#pb186">186</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“And why? what for?” asked Linares, surprised.</p> + +<p>“You challenge him right off, or I will tell them all who you +are.”</p> + +<p>“But, Doña Victorina!”</p> + +<p>The three young women looked at one another.</p> + +<p>“The <i>alferez</i> has insulted us. The old witch came down +with her whip, and that thing there allowed it all. A man!”</p> + +<p>“Pshaw!” said Sinang. “They have been fighting and +we haven’t seen it.”</p> + +<p>“The <i>alferez</i> has broken the doctor’s +teeth,” added Victoria.</p> + +<p>“This very day we are going to Manila. You stay here to +challenge him to a duel, and, if you don’t, I’ll tell Don +Santiago that all that you have told him is a lie. I will tell +him——”</p> + +<p>“But, Doña Victorina! Doña Victorina!” +interrupted Linares, pale and going closer to her. “You keep +quiet. Don’t make me call to mind”——and he +added in a low voice—“Don’t be imprudent, especially +just now.”</p> + +<p>Just at that time, when this was going on, Captain Tiago arrived +home from the cock-pit. He was downhearted. He had lost his <i> +lásak</i>.</p> + +<p>But Doña Victorina did not give him much time to sigh. In a +few words, and with many insults, she related to him what had passed, +she, of course, trying to put herself in a good light.</p> + +<p>“Linares is going to challenge him. Do you hear? If he +don’t, I won’t let him marry your daughter. Don’t you +permit it. If he has no courage, he does not merit Clarita.”</p> + +<p>“Then you are going to marry this gentleman?” asked +Sinang, with her jolly eyes full of tears. “I knew that you were +discreet, but I did not think you so fickle.”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara, pale as wax, raising herself half up, looked at her +father with frightened eyes, and then at Doña Victorina and +Linares. The latter turned red in the face, Captain Tiago looked down, +and the señora added:</p> + +<p>“Clarita, bear it in mind, and never marry a man who does not +wear trousers. You expose yourself to insults like a dog, if you +do.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb187" href= +"#pb187">187</a>]</span></p> + +<p>But the young maiden did not reply and said to her friends:</p> + +<p>“Take me to my room, for I cannot go alone.”</p> + +<p>They helped her to her feet, and, leaning her marble-like head on +pretty Sinang’s shoulder, and, with the arms of her friend around +her waist, she went to her bedroom.</p> + +<p>That night the doctor and his wife collected their things together, +submitted their account to Captain Tiago—which amounted to +several thousand <i>pesos</i>—and very early on the following +day, left for Manila in the Captain’s carriage. To timid Linares +they intrusted the rôle of the avenger. <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb188" href="#pb188">188</a>]</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e4963src" id="xd0e4963">1</a></span> Warning cry of a coachman, +meaning “turn.”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id="ch29" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXIX.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The Enigma.</h2> + +<p>As Lucas had announced, Ibarra arrived the next day. His first visit +was to the family of Captain Tiago, with the object of seeing Maria +Clara and telling her that His Most Illustrious Greatness had already +reconciled him with the Church. He brought a letter of recommendation +to the curate, written by the hand of the Archbishop himself. Aunt +Isabel was not a little delighted over it, for she liked the young man +and did not look favorably upon the marriage of her niece with Linares. +Captain Tiago was not at home.</p> + +<p>“Come in,” said the aunt in her half-Castellano +language. “Maria, Don Crisostomo is again in the grace of God. +The Archbishop has dis-excommunicated him.”</p> + +<p>But the young man could not advance. His smile froze on his lips, +and words fled from his mind. Linares was standing next to Maria Clara +on the balcony, interweaving nosegays with the flowers and leaves on +the climbing plants. On the floor, were scattered roses and <i> +sampagas</i>. Maria Clara was leaning back on a sofa, pale, pensive, +her look sad, playing with her ivory fan. But the fan was not as white +as her poor fingers.</p> + +<p>At the presence of Ibarra, Linares turned pale and Maria +Clara’s cheeks were tinged with carmine. She tried to rise, but +her strength failing her, she cast her eyes upon the floor, and let +fall her fan.</p> + +<p>An embarrassing silence reigned for several seconds. Finally, Ibarra +was able to advance, and tremblingly murmured:</p> + +<p>“I have just arrived and have hastened to see you.... I find +that you are better than I thought.”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara seemed to have turned dumb. She could <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb189" href="#pb189">189</a>]</span>not pronounce a +single word, and continued to keep her eyes on the floor.</p> + +<p>Ibarra surveyed Linares with a look which the modest young man bore +with considerable haughtiness.</p> + +<p>“Well, I see that my arrival was not expected,” he said +slowly. “Maria, pardon me for not having announced my coming. +Some other day I will be able to explain to you my conduct.”</p> + +<p>These words were accompanied with a look at Linares. The maiden +raised her eyes to Ibarra, those beautiful eyes, full of purity and +melancholy, so supplicating and sweet that Ibarra stopped confused.</p> + +<p>“May I come to-morrow?”</p> + +<p>“You know that on my part you are always welcome,” +replied she, scarcely able to pronounce the words.</p> + +<p>Ibarra walked away, apparently tranquil; but a tempest raged in his +mind, and his heart was chilled. What he had just seen and felt was +incomprehensible. What was it? Doubt, apathy or treason?</p> + +<p>“Oh, woman!” he murmured.</p> + +<p>He arrived, without noticing it, at the place where the school house +was being constructed. The work was well along. Ñor Juan, with +his yard stick and plumb-line, was going to and fro among the numerous +workmen. On seeing the young man approach, he ran to meet him.</p> + +<p>“Don Crisostomo,” said he, “you have arrived at +last. We were all expecting you. Just see how the walls are rising. +They are already a meter and ten centimeters high. Within two days, +they will be as high as a man. I have not allowed them to use anything +but the best of wood. Do you want to look at the cellar?”</p> + +<p>The workmen saluted him respectfully.</p> + +<p>“Here is the system of drainage which I have taken the liberty +to add,” said Ñor Juan. “These underground canals +lead to a cesspool about thirty feet off. It will serve to fertilize +the garden. This was not in the plans. Do you object to it?”</p> + +<p>“Quite on the contrary, I approve of it and I congratulate you +on your idea. You are a true architect. From whom did you learn the +profession?”</p> + +<p>“From myself, señor,” replied the modest old man. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb190" href="#pb190">190</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“O, yes! Before I forget it: let the scrupulous people know +(for some may fear to speak to me) that I am no longer excommunicated. +The Archbishop invited me to dine with him.”</p> + +<p>“Pshaw! señor! We don’t take any notice of +excommunications. We are all excommunicated. Dather Dámaso is +himself; however, he goes on, as fat as ever.”</p> + +<p>“How’s that?”</p> + +<p>“I feel sure about it. A year ago he gave the coadjutor a blow +with his cane, and the coadjutor is as much a priest as he. Who takes +any notice of excommunications, señor?”</p> + +<p>Ibarra caught sight of Elias among the workmen. He saluted him like +the others, but with a look that gave Ibarra to understand that he +wanted to speak with him.</p> + +<p>“Ñor Juan,” said Ibarra, “will you bring me +a list of the workmen?”</p> + +<p>Ñor Juan disappeared and Ibarra approached Elias, who was +alone, raising a large stone and loading it in a cart.</p> + +<p>“If you are able, señor, to grant me some hours of +conversation, come this afternoon to the shore of the lake and embark +in my <i>banca</i>, for I want to talk with you about some serious +matters,” said Elias. Ibarra gave a nod of assent and went +away.</p> + +<p>Ñor Juan brought the list, but Ibarra read it in vain. The +name of Elias was not on it. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb191" href= +"#pb191">191</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch30" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXX.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The Voice of the Persecuted.</h2> + +<p>Before the sun went down, Ibarra put his foot into Elias’s <i> +banca</i> on the shore of the lake. He seemed displeased about +something, as though he had been opposed or contradicted.</p> + +<p>“Pardon me, señor,” said Elias on seeing him. +“Pardon me for having ventured to make this appointment with you. +I would like to speak with you freely, and here we have no witnesses. +We can return within an hour.”</p> + +<p>“You are mistaken, friend Elias,” replied Ibarra, trying +to smile. “You will have to take me to that town over there, +where you see that belfry. Fate obliges me to go there.”</p> + +<p>“Fate?”</p> + +<p>“Yes; on my way here, I met the <i>alferez</i>. He insisted +upon accompanying me. I thought about you, and knew that he would +recognize you, and, in order to get rid of him, I told him that I was +going to that town. Now I will have to remain there all day to-morrow, +for the man whom I am going to see will not look for me till to-morrow +afternoon.”</p> + +<p>“I am obliged to you for your thoughtfulness, but you might +have simply told him to accompany you,” replied Elias with +naturalness.</p> + +<p>“How’s that? And what about you?”</p> + +<p>“He would never have recognized me. The only time that he ever +saw me, I don’t believe that he thought to take down a +description of me.”</p> + +<p>“I am in hard luck!” sighed Ibarra, thinking of Maria +Clara. “What have you to say to me?”</p> + +<p>Elias looked around him. They were far from the shore. The sun had +already sunk below the horizon, and, as the twilight in these latitudes +is very short, the darkness was <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb192" +href="#pb192">192</a>]</span>falling over the earth, and the disk of +the full moon was already shining.</p> + +<p>“Señor,” replied Elias, in a grave voice, +“I am the spokesman of many unfortunate people.”</p> + +<p>“Unfortunate people. What do you mean?”</p> + +<p>In a few words, Elias referred to the conversation which he had had +with the chief of the <i>tulisanes</i>, but omitted saying anything +about the doubts which the chief entertained, or the threats. Ibarra +listened attentively, and, when Elias concluded his story, a long +silence reigned. Ibarra was the first to break the spell.</p> + +<p>“So that they desire——?”</p> + +<p>“Radical reforms in the armed forces, in the religious +matters, and in the administration of justice. That is to say, they ask +for paternal care on the part of the Government.”</p> + +<p>“Reforms? In what sense?”</p> + +<p>“For example: more respect for human dignity; more security +for the individual; less power in the hands of the forces already +armed; fewer privileges for that body which easily abuses +them.”</p> + +<p>“Elias,” replied the young man, “I don’t +know who you are, but I believe that you are not an ordinary man. You +think and work differently from the others. You will understand me if I +say to you that, even if it is true that the present state of affairs +is defective, there will be a worse state if there is a change. I could +arrange to get the assistance of my friends in Madrid, by <i>paying +them</i>. I could speak to the Governor General, but all of that would +accomplish nothing. He has not enough power to introduce reforms, nor +would I ever take a step in that direction, for I know very well that, +if it is true that these religious corporations have their defects, +they are now necessities. They are what you might call a necessary +evil.”</p> + +<p>Elias raised his head and looked astonished.</p> + +<p>“Do you believe, señor, in necessary evils?” he +asked, his voice slightly trembling. “Do you believe that in +order to do good it is necessary to do evil?”</p> + +<p>“No. I look upon it as a violent remedy which we have to make +use of to cure an illness. To illustrate further, the country is an +organism which is suffering from a <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb193" +href="#pb193">193</a>]</span>chronic illness, and, in order to cure it, +the Government finds itself compelled to use medicines, hard and +violent, if you wish, but useful and necessary.”</p> + +<p>“He is a bad doctor, señor, who seeks to cure the +symptoms and suppress them without trying to find the origin of the +illness, or knowing it, fears to attack it. The <i>Guardia Civil</i> +has no other end than this: the suppression of crime by terror and +force. This end it neither fulfills nor carries out except in chance +instances. And you have to take into account that society can be severe +with individuals only after she has furnished all means necessary for +their perfect morality. In our country, since there is no society, +since the people and the Government do not form a unity, the latter +ought to be indulgent, not only because indulgence is necessary, but +because the individual, neglected and abandoned by Government, has less +self responsibility than if he had been enlightened. Besides, following +out your comparison, the medicine applied to the evils of the country +is so much of a destroyer that its effect is only felt on the sane +parts of the organism. These it weakens and injures. Would it not be +more reasonable to fortify and strengthen the infirm organism and +minimize a little the violence of the medicine?”</p> + +<p>“To weaken the <i>Guardia Civil</i> would be to put the +security of the towns in danger.”</p> + +<p>“The security of the towns!” exclaimed Elias with +bitterness. “The towns have had the <i>Guardia Civil</i> for +nearly fifteen years and what is the result? We still have <i> +tulisanes</i>, we still hear of them sacking towns, and they still make +their attacks on people on the roads. Robberies continue and the +robbers are not punished. Crime exists and the real criminal goes free, +but not so with the peaceful inhabitants of the town. Ask any honorable +citizen if he looks upon this institution as a good, as a protection by +the Government, or as an imposition, a despotism whose excesses do more +harm than the violence of the criminals. Communication between people +is paralyzed, for they fear to be maltreated for trifling causes. More +importance is attached to the formality of the law than to the basal +principle of it,—the first symptom of incapacity in government. +The heads of the organization consider it their <span class="pagenum"> +[<a id="pb194" href="#pb194">194</a>]</span>first duty to make people +salute them, either of their own will or by force, even in the darkness +of night. In this, their inferior officers imitate them and maltreat +and fleece the poor countrymen. There is no such thing as sacredness of +the fireside. There is no security for the individual. What have the +people accomplished by overcoming their wrath and by waiting for +justice at the hands of others? Ah! señor, if you call that +preserving the order——”</p> + +<p>“I agree with you that there are evils,” replied Ibarra. +“But we have to accept those evils for the good which accompanies +them. This institution may be imperfect, but believe me, by the terror +which it inspires, it prevents the number of criminals from +increasing.”</p> + +<p>“You might better say that by that terror it increases the +number of criminals,” said Elias, correcting him. “Before +this body was created, almost all the evildoers, with the exception of +a very few, were criminals because of their hunger. They pillaged and +robbed in order to live. That famine once passed over and hunger once +satisfied, the roads were again free from criminals. It was sufficient +to have the poor but valiant <i>cuaderilleros</i> chase them, with +their imperfect arms—that body of men so often calumniated by +those who have written upon our country, those men who have three legal +rights, to do their duty, to fight and to die. And for all that, a jest +as recompense. Now there are <i>tulisanes</i> who will be <i> +tulisanes</i> all their lives. A crime inhumanly punished, resistance +against the excesses of the power which inflicts such punishment, and +fear that other atrocities may be inflicted—these make them +forever members of that society who are bound by oath to kill and die<a +class="noteref" id="xd0e5322src" href="#xd0e5322">1</a>. The terrorism +of the <i>Guardia Civil</i> impressed upon them closes forever the +doors to repentance. And as a <i>tulisan</i> fights and defends himself +in the mountains better than a soldier, whom he scorns, the result is +that we are incapable of abating the evil which we have created. Call +to mind what the prudent Governor General de la Torre did. The amnesty +which he granted to these unhappy people has proved that in these +mountains the hearts of <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb195" href= +"#pb195">195</a>]</span>men still beat, and only await pardon. +Terrorism is useful only when the people are enslaved, when the +mountains have no caverns, when the governing power can station a +sentry behind every tree, and when the slave has in his body nothing +but a stomach. But when the desperado who fights for his life feels the +strong arm of that power, then his heart beats and his being fills with +passion. Can terrorism put out the fire which——”</p> + +<p>“It confuses me, Elias, to hear you talk so. I would believe +that you were right if I did not have my own convictions. But note this +point—and do not be offended, for I do not include you—I +look upon you as an exception—consider who those are who ask for +this reform. Almost all are criminals or people who are in the way of +becoming such.”</p> + +<p>“Criminals or future criminals; but why are they so? Because +their peace has been disturbed, their happiness taken away from them, +their dearest affections wounded, and, after asking protection from +Justice, they have been convinced that they can secure it only by their +own hands, by their own efforts. But you are mistaken, señor, if +you believe that only criminals ask for it. Go from town to town, from +house to house. Listen to the secret sighings of the family and you +will be convinced that the evils which the <i>Guardia Civil</i> causes +are equal to if not greater than those which it corrects. Would you +conclude then that all the citizens are criminals? Then, why defend +them from the others? Why not destroy them?”</p> + +<p>“There is some flaw in your reasoning which escapes me now. In +Spain, the Mother Country, this body lends and has lent very useful +services.”</p> + +<p>“I do not doubt it. Perhaps there it is better organized; the +personnel more select. Perhaps, too, Spain needs such a body, but the +Philippines do not. Our customs, our mode of living, which are always +cited when any one wants to deny us a right, are totally forgotten when +some one wants to impose something on us. And tell me, señor, +why have not other nations adopted this institution, other nations +which resemble Spain more than do the Philippines? Is it due to the +efforts of such an institution that other nations have fewer robberies +of the railways, fewer <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb196" href= +"#pb196">196</a>]</span>riots, fewer assassinations, and less +hand-to-hand fighting in their great capitals?”</p> + +<p>Ibarra bowed his head in meditation. Afterward he raised it and +replied:</p> + +<p>“That question, my friend, needs serious study. If my +investigations tell me that these complaints are well founded, I will +write to my friends in Madrid, since we have no deputies to represent +us. In the meantime, believe me, the Government needs a body like the +<i>Guardia Civil</i>, which has unlimited power, in order to make the +people respect its authority and the laws imposed.”</p> + +<p>“That would be all right, señor, if the Government were +at war with the country; but, for the good of the Government, we ought +not to make the people believe that they are in opposition to the law. +Furthermore, if that were the case, if we preferred force to prestige, +we ought to look well to whom we give this unlimited force or power, +this authority. Such great power in the hands of men, and ignorant men +at that, men full of passion, without moral education, without tested +honor—such a thing is a weapon in the hands of a maniac in a +multitude of unarmed people. I grant and I will agree with you that the +Government needs this weapon, but let it choose that weapon well; let +it choose the most worthy men to bear it.”</p> + +<p>Elias was speaking with enthusiasm and with fervor. His eyes +glistened and his voice vibrated. Then followed a solemn pause. The <i> +banca</i>, no longer propelled by the paddle, floated tranquilly on the +waves. The moon was shining majestically from a sapphire sky. Some +lights were glimmering on the shore.</p> + +<p>“And what more do they ask?” said Ibarra.</p> + +<p>“Reforms in the priesthood,” responded Elias, in a +discouraged and sad tone of voice. “The unfortunates ask more +protection against——”</p> + +<p>“Against the religious orders?”</p> + +<p>“Against their oppressors, señor.”</p> + +<p>“Have the Filipinos forgotten what they owe to these orders? +Have they forgotten the immense debt of gratitude they owe to them for +having saved them from error and given them the Faith? What they owe to +them for protection against the civil power? Here is one of the <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb197" href="#pb197">197</a>]</span>evils which +result from not teaching the history of the country in our +schools.”</p> + +<p>Elias, surprised, could scarcely give credit to what he heard.</p> + +<p>“Señor,” he replied in a grave voice. “You +accuse the people of ingratitude: permit me, one of those who suffer, +to defend the people. Favors, in order to be recognized as such, must +be done by persons with disinterested motives. Let us consider in a +general way the mission of the orders, of Christian charity, that +threadbare subject. Let us lay history aside. Let us not ask what Spain +did with the Jews, who gave all Europe a Book, a religion and a God! +Let us not ask what Spain has done with the Arabic people who gave her +culture, who were tolerant in religion and who reawakened in her a pure +national love, fallen into lethargy and almost <span class="corr" id= +"xd0e5376" title="Source: detroyed">destroyed</span> by the domination +of Romans and Goths. Let us omit all that. Do you say that these orders +have given us the Faith and have saved us from error? Do you call those +outward ceremonies, faith? Do you call that commerce in straps and +scapularies religion? Do you call those miracles and stories which we +hear every day truth? Is that the law of Jesus Christ? To teach such a +faith as this it was not at all necessary that a God should allow +himself to be crucified. Superstition existed long before the friars +came here; it was only necessary to perfect it and to raise the price +of the traffic. Will you tell me that although our religion of to-day +is imperfect, it is better than that which we had before? I will agree +with you in that and grant it; but we have purchased it at too high a +price if we have had to renounce our nationality and independence for +it; when for it, we have given to the priests our best towns, our +fields, and still give them our little savings in order to buy +religious objects. A foreign industry has been introduced among us; we +pay well for it, and are in peace. If you speak of the protection they +have afforded us against the civil governors of the provinces, I would +reply that through them we fall under the power of these governors. +However, I recognize that a true Faith, and a true love for humanity +guided the first missionaries who came to our shores. I recognize the +debt of gratitude which is due those noble hearts. I know that <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb198" href="#pb198">198</a>]</span>in those +days Spain abounded in heroes of all kinds, as well in religion as in +politics, as well in civil life as in military. But because the +forefathers were virtuous, should we consent to the abuses practiced by +their degenerate descendants? Because a great good has been done for +us, are we guilty if we prevent ourselves from being harmed? The +country does not ask for abolition of the priesthood; it only asks for +reforms which new circumstances and new needs require.”</p> + +<p>“I love our country as you love it, Elias. I understand to +some extent what you desire. I have heard with attention what you have +said; yet, despite all of that, my friend, I believe we are looking +upon it with a little prejudice. Here, less than in other things, I see +the necessity of reforms.”</p> + +<p>“Can it be possible, señor,” said Elias, +discouraged and stretching out his hands. “Do you not see the +necessity of reforms, you whose family——”</p> + +<p>“Ah! I forget myself and I forget my own injuries for the sake +of the security of the Philippines, for the sake of the interests of +Spain,” interrupted Ibarra eagerly. “To preserve the +Philippines it is necessary that the friars continue as they are, and +in union with Spain lies the welfare of our country.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra had ceased speaking, but Elias continued to listen. His face +was sad, his eyes had lost their brilliancy.</p> + +<p>“The missionaries conquered the country, it is true,” he +said. “Do you think that Spain will be able to keep the +Philippines through the instrumentality of the friars?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, only through the friars. This is the belief held by all +who have written on the Philippines.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” exclaimed Elias, discouraged and throwing his +paddle <span class="corr" id="xd0e5395" title="Source: ino">into</span> +the bottom of the <i>banca</i>. “I did not think that you had so +poor a conception of the Government and of the country.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra replied: “I love our country, not only because it is +the duty of all men to love the country to which they owe their being, +not only because my father taught me so; but also because my mother was +a native, an Indian, and because all my most beautiful memories live in +these <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb199" href= +"#pb199">199</a>]</span>islands. I love it too, because I owe it my +happiness and will continue to do so.”</p> + +<p>“And I, I love it because I owe to it my misfortunes,” +said Elias.</p> + +<p>“Yes, my friend, I know that you are suffering, that you are +unfortunate, and that this makes you see a dark future and influences +your way of thinking. For this reason, I make allowance for your +complaints. If I were able to appreciate the motives, if I had known +part of that past——”</p> + +<p>“My misfortunes have another source. If I had known that they +would have been of usefulness, I would have related them, for aside +from that, I make no secret of them. They are well enough known by +many.”</p> + +<p>“Perhaps knowing them would rectify my opinions. You know I do +not rely much upon theories; facts are better guides.”</p> + +<p>Elias remained pensive for some moments.</p> + +<p>“If that is the case, señor,” he replied, +“I will relate briefly the history of my misfortunes.” +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb200" href="#pb200">200</a>]</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e5322src" id="xd0e5322">1</a></span> Author here shows difficulty +in establishing American sovereignty over islands by military +forces.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id="ch31" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXXI.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Elias’s Family.</h2> + +<p>“Some sixty years ago my grandfather lived in Manila and kept +books for a Spanish merchant. My grandfather was then very young, but +was married and had a son. One night, without any one knowing the +cause, the store-house was burned. The fire spread to the store and +from the store to many others. The losses were very heavy. Search was +made for the incendiary, and the merchant accused my grandfather. In +vain he protested and, as he was poor and could not pay celebrated +lawyers, he was condemned to be whipped publicly and to be led through +the streets of Manila. It was not a great while ago that this infamous +punishment was still in use here. It was a thousand times worse than +death itself. My grandfather, abandoned by everybody except his wife, +was tied to a horse and, followed by a cruel multitude, was whipped on +every corner, in the sight of men, his brothers, and in the vicinity of +the numerous temples of the God of Peace. When the unfortunate man, +disgraced forever, had satisfied the punishment by his blood, his +tortures and his cries, they untied him from the horse, for he had +become unconscious. Would to God he had died! As a refined cruelty, +they gave him liberty. His wife, embarrassed with a child at the time, +begged in vain from door to door for work or alms that she might care +for her sick husband and the poor son. But who would have confidence in +the wife of an infamous man guilty of arson? The wife, then, had to +give herself up to prostitution.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra started from his seat.</p> + +<p>“Oh! do not be disturbed! Prostitution was not the only +dishonor which she and her husband suffered. Honor and shame no longer +existed for them. The husband cured his wounds, and, with his wife and +son, hid in the mountains of this province. Here the woman brought +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb201" href="#pb201">201</a>]</span>forth +a still-born child, deformed and full of disease. In the mountains, +they lived for several months, miserable, isolated, hated and fleeing +from all. Unable to endure the misery, less valorous than his wife, and +growing desperate at seeing her ill and deprived of all aid and +comfort, my grandfather hanged himself. The body rotted in the sight of +the son, who was now scarcely able to take care of his sick mother. The +bad odor of the rotting corpse disclosed it to Justice. My grandmother +was accused and condemned for not having given notice. The death of her +husband was attributed to her and people believed it. For, what is a +wife of a wretch not capable of doing after having prostituted herself? +If she took oath, they said she perjured herself; if she wept, they +said that it was false; and if she invoked God, they said she +blasphemed. However, they had some consideration for her and waited for +her to give birth to a child before whipping her. You know that the +friars spread the belief that the only way to deal with the natives is +with the whip. Read what Father Gaspar de San Augustin says.</p> + +<p>“Thus condemned, the woman cursed the day when she would give +birth to the child, and this not only prolonged her punishment, but +violated her maternal sentiments. The woman delivered the child, and +unfortunately the child was born robust. Two months later the sentence +of whipping which had been imposed upon her was carried out, to the +great satisfaction of the people, who thought that in this way they +were fulfilling their duty. No longer able to be at peace in these +mountains she fled with her two sons to a neighboring province and +there they lived like wild beasts: hating and hated. The older boy, +remembering his happy infancy and its contrast with such great misery, +became a <i>tulisan</i> as soon as he had sufficient strength. Before +long the bloody name of <i>Bálat</i> extended from province to +province; it was the terror of the towns and the people, for he took +his revenge with fire and blood. The younger boy, who had received from +Nature a good heart, resigned himself to his lot at his mother’s +side. They lived on what the forests afforded them; they dressed in the +rags that travellers threw away. The mother had lost her good name, she +was now <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb202" href= +"#pb202">202</a>]</span>known only by such titles as the +‘criminal,’ the ‘prostitute,’ and the +‘horse-whipped woman.’ The younger brother was known only +as the son of his mother, because he had such a pleasant disposition +that they did not believe him to be the son of the incendiary. Finally +the famous Bálat fell one day into the hands of Justice. Society +had taught him no good, but he was asked to account for his crimes. One +morning as the younger boy was looking for his mother, who had gone to +gather mushrooms from the forest, and had not yet returned, he found +her lying on the ground by the roadside, under a cotton-tree. Her face +was turned toward the sky, her eyes were torn from their sockets, and +her rigid fingers were buried in the blood-stained earth. It occurred +to the young man to raise his eyes and follow the direction in which +his mother had been looking, and there from a limb of a tree he saw a +basket, and in that basket the bloody head of his brother.”</p> + +<p>“My God!” exclaimed Ibarra.</p> + +<p>“That is what my father must have exclaimed,” continued +Elias, coldly. “The men had cut the highwayman into quarters and +buried him in a trunk of a tree. But the limbs were saved, and were +hung up in different towns. If you go some time from Calamba to Santo +Tomás you will still find the rotting leg of my uncle hanging +from a <i>lomboy</i> tree. Nature has cursed the tree and it neither +grows nor gives fruit. They did the same thing with the other members +of his body, but the head, the head, as the best part of the man and +that part which can be most easily recognized, they hung before the +mother’s cabin.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra bowed his head.</p> + +<p>“The young man fled like one that is accursed,” +continued Elias. “He fled from town to town, through mountains +and valleys, and when at last he thought he was not recognized by any +one, he began to work in the store of a rich man in the province of +Tayabas. His activity, his agreeable disposition, won for him the +esteem of those who did not know his past life. By working and saving +he managed to make a little capital, and, as the misery had passed +away, and, as he was young, he thought that he would be happy. His good +appearance, his youth, and <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb203" href= +"#pb203">203</a>]</span>his quite <span class="corr" id="xd0e5454" +title="Source: unincumbered">unencumbered</span> position won for him +the love of a girl in the town, but he did not dare to ask for her +hand, for fear that she might learn of his past. But love became too +strong and both erred. The man, in order to save the honor of the +woman, risked all; he asked her to marry him, the papers were looked up +and all was disclosed. The girl’s father was rich and began to +prosecute the man. The latter, however, did not try to defend himself, +admitted it all and was sent to jail. The young woman gave birth to a +boy and a girl. They were brought up in seclusion and made to believe +that their father was dead. This was not difficult, for while the +children were still young they saw their mother die, and they thought +little about investigating their genealogy. As our grandfather was very +rich, our youth was happy. My sister and I were educated together, we +loved each other as only twins can when they know no other love. While +very young, I went to study in the Jesuit College, and my sister, in +order that we might not be entirely separated, went to the Concordia +boarding school. Our short education having been ended, for we only +wished to be farmers, we returned to the town to take possession of the +inheritance which was left us by our grandfather. We lived happily for +some time; the future smiled on us; we had many servants; our fields +bore good crops; and my sister was on the eve of being married to a +young man who loved her and to whom she was well suited. On account of +some pecuniary questions, and, because my character was then haughty, I +lost the good will of a distant relative, and he threw in my face one +day my dark birth and my infamous ancestry. I thought it a calumny and +demanded satisfaction. The tomb in which so much grief was sleeping was +opened again and the truth came out. I was confounded. To make the +misfortune greater, we had had for some years an old servant who had +always suffered all my caprices without ever leaving us. He contented +himself by weeping and crying while the other servants jested with him. +I do not know how my relative found it out; the fact is that he +summoned this old man before the court and made him tell the truth. The +old servant was my father, who had stuck fast to his dear children and +whom I had maltreated <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb204" href= +"#pb204">204</a>]</span>many times. Our happiness disappeared: I +renounced our fortune; my sister lost her lover; and with our father we +abandoned the town to go to some other point. The thought of having +contributed to our disgrace and misfortune, cut short the life of the +old man, from whose lips was learned all the sorrowful past. My sister +and I were left alone.</p> + +<p>“She wept a great deal, but, amid such grief as they piled +upon us, she could not forget her love. Without complaining, without +saying a word, she saw her old lover marry another girl, and I saw her +a little later gradually become ill, without being able to console her. +One day she disappeared. In vain I searched for her everywhere; in vain +I asked for her for six months. Afterward I learned that during the +time while I was searching for her, one day when the water had risen in +the lake, there had been found on the beach at Calamba the body of a +girl, either drowned or assassinated. She had, they say, a knife +piercing her breast. The authorities of Calamba published the fact in +the neighboring towns. Nobody presented himself to claim the body; no +young woman had disappeared. From the description which they gave me +afterward, from the dress, the rings, the beauty of her face and her +very abundant hair, I recognized her as my poor sister. From that time, +I have been wandering from province to province. My fame and history +are in the mouths of many people; they attribute all sorts of deeds to +me; at times they calumniate me; but I take no notice of men and +continue on my way. I have here briefly related my history, and that of +a judgment at the hands of mankind.”</p> + +<p>Elias became silent and continued rowing.</p> + +<p>“I believe that you are not wrong,” murmured Ibarra, in +a low voice, “when you say that justice ought to procure the +welfare of the people by lifting up the criminals and by raising the +standard of their morality. Only ... that is impossible—a Utopia. +And then, where is the money for so many new employees to come +from?”</p> + +<p>“And what are the priests for, the priests who proclaim peace +and charity as their mission? Is it more meritorious for a priest to +wet the head of a child, to give <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb205" +href="#pb205">205</a>]</span>it salt to eat, than to awaken in the +darkened conscience of a criminal that spark, given by God to every +man, that he may seek to do good? Is it more human to accompany a +criminal to the gallows than to accompany him through the difficult +path which leads from vice to virtue? Are not spies, executioners and +<i>Guardias Civiles</i> paid? The latter institution, besides being an +evil, also costs money.”</p> + +<p>“My friend, neither you nor I, although we wish it, can +accomplish it.”</p> + +<p>“Alone we are nothing, it is true. Take up the cause of the +people, unite them, listen to their voices, give others an example to +follow, give them the idea of what is called a fatherland, a <i> +patria</i>!”</p> + +<p>“What the people ask for is impossible. We must +wait.”</p> + +<p>“To wait, to wait, is equivalent to suffering!”</p> + +<p>“If I should ask it, they would laugh at me.”</p> + +<p>“And if the people should sustain you?”</p> + +<p>“Never! I would never be the one to lead the multitude and +accomplish by force what the Government does not believe is opportune. +No! If I ever saw the multitude armed for such a purpose, I would put +myself on the side of the Government. And I would fight it, for in such +a mob I would not see my country. I wish for its welfare: that is the +reason that I am erecting the school-house. I look for it through means +of instruction, education and progress. Without light there is no +road.”</p> + +<p>“Nor without fighting is there liberty,” replied +Elias.</p> + +<p>“I do not care for that kind of liberty.”</p> + +<p>“Without liberty there is no light,” replied the pilot +with enthusiasm. “You say that you know very little about our +country. I believe it. You do not see the fight that is impending. You +do not see the cloud on the horizon. The combat begins in the sphere of +ideas, and then descends to the arena to tinge it with blood. I hear +the voice of God. Woe to them who resist it. History has not been +written for them.”</p> + +<p>Elias was transformed. As he stood up, his head uncovered, his manly +face illumined by the moonlight, there was something extraordinary +about him. He shook his long hair and continued: <span class="pagenum"> +[<a id="pb206" href="#pb206">206</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Do you not see how all is awakening? Sleep has lasted for +centuries, but one day a thunderbolt will fall and new life will be +called forth. New tendencies are animating the spirits, and these +tendencies to-day separated, will be united some day, and will be +guided by God. God has not failed other peoples, nor will he fail ours. +Their cause is liberty.”</p> + +<p>A solemn silence followed these words. In the meantime, the <i> +banca</i> carried along imperceptibly by the waves, neared the shore. +Elias was the first to break the silence.</p> + +<p>“What have I to say to those who have sent me?” he +asked, changing the tone of his voice.</p> + +<p>“I have already told you that I greatly deplore their +condition, but for them to wait, since evils are not cured by other +evils. In our misfortune, we are all at fault.”</p> + +<p>Elias did not insist further. He bowed his head, continued rowing +and, bringing the <i>banca</i> up to the shore, took leave of Ibarra +saying:</p> + +<p>“I thank you, Señor, for your condescension. For your +own interests I ask you in the future to forget me, and never to +recognize me in whatever place you may meet me.”</p> + +<p>And saying this, he turned his <i>banca</i> and rowed in the +direction of a dense thicket on the beach. He seemed to observe only +the millions of diamonds which his paddle lifted and which fell back +into the lake, where they soon disappeared in the mystery of the blue +waves.</p> + +<p>Finally, he arrived at the place toward which he had been rowing. A +man came out of the thicket and approached him:</p> + +<p>“What shall I tell the captain?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“Tell him that Elias, if he does not die before, will fulfill +his word,” he replied gloomily.</p> + +<p>“Then when will you meet us?”</p> + +<p>“When your captain thinks that the hour of danger has +come.”</p> + +<p>“All right. Good-bye!”</p> + +<p>“If I do not die before,” murmured Elias. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb207" href="#pb207">207</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch32" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXXII.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Changes.</h2> + +<p>The modest Linares was serious and very uneasy. He had just received +a letter from Doña Victorina which, translated from the most +illiterate Spanish, and omitting its many errors in spelling and +punctuation, was as follows:</p> + +<div class="blockquote"> +<p>“<span class="smallcaps">Esteemed Cousin</span>:—Within +three days I want to know from you if you have killed the <i> +alferez</i> or he you. I don’t want another day to pass without +this animal being punished. If this length of time passes and still you +have not challenged him, I will tell Don Santiago that you never were +secretary and that you never joked with Canovas or with General +Martinez. I will tell Clarita that it is all a lie and I will not give +you another <i>cuarto</i>. If you challenge him, I promise you all that +you wish. If you do not challenge him, I will accept no excuses or +reasons.</p> + +<p>“Your cousin who loves you in her heart.<br> +”<span class="smallcaps">Victorina de los Reyes de de +Espadaña.</span><br> +“Sampalog, Monday Eve, 7 o’clock.”</p> +</div> + +<p>It was a serious matter. Linares knew Doña Victorina’s +character and knew what she was capable of doing. To reason with her +was out of the question; to beg was useless; to deceive her worse. +There was no other remedy than to challenge.</p> + +<p>“But what can I do?” he said to himself, as he was +walking alone. “If he receives me harshly? If I meet his wife? +Who would want to be my second? The curate? Captain Tiago? Cursed be +the hour in which I gave ear to her advice! What will this +señorita say about me? Now I am sorry to have been secretary to +all the ministers.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb208" href= +"#pb208">208</a>]</span></p> + +<p>The good Linares was in this sad soliloquy when Father Salví +arrived. The Franciscan was certainly thinner and paler than usual, but +his eyes shone with a peculiar light and a strange smile was seen on +his lips.</p> + +<p>“Señor Linares, all alone?” saluted the priest +and directed his steps to the <i>sala</i>, through the half open door +of which notes of the piano were heard.</p> + +<p>Linares restrained a smile.</p> + +<p>“And Don Santiago?” added the curate.</p> + +<p>Captain Tiago presented himself at that moment, kissed the +curate’s hand, took the Father’s hat and cane and smiled +like one who had been blessed.</p> + +<p>“Well, well!” said the curate, going into the <i> +sala</i>, followed by Linares and Captain Tiago. “I have good +news from Manila which you will all enjoy. I have received letters from +Manila which confirm the one which Señor Ibarra brought me +yesterday—so that, Don Santiago, the impediment is +removed.”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara was seated at the piano between her two girl friends. +She half rose to her feet at this remark, but her strength failed her +and she sat down again. Linares turned pale and looked at Captain +Tiago, who turned his eyes to the floor.</p> + +<p>“This young man really seems to me a very nice fellow,” +continued the curate. “At first, I judged him bad—he is a +little quick-tempered. But he knows so well how to atone for his faults +afterward, that one cannot hold any grudge against him. If it were not +for Father Dámaso....” And the curate directed a quick +glance at Maria Clara. She was listening to all that was going on but +without taking her eyes off the music—in spite of the concealed +pinches which Sinang gave her to express her joy. Had she been alone, +she would have danced.</p> + +<p>“Father Dámaso?” asked Linares without finishing +the sentence.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” continued the curate. “Father Dámaso +has said that as ... godfather he could not permit ... but I believe +that if finally, Señor Ibarra asks pardon, which I do not doubt +he will do, all will be arranged.”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara arose, made an excuse and retired to her room, +accompanied by Victoria. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb209" href= +"#pb209">209</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“And if Father Dámaso does not pardon him?” asked +Captain Tiago, in a low voice.</p> + +<p>“Then Maria Clara will see that Father Dámaso is her +spiritual father. But I believe that they will come to an +understanding.”</p> + +<p>At that moment, steps were heard and Ibarra appeared, followed by +Aunt Isabel. His presence on the scene produced a varied effect. He +saluted Captain Tiago affably, the latter not knowing whether to smile +or to weep; to Linares he bowed profoundly. Father Salví arose +and extended his hand to him so affectionately that Ibarra could not +suppress a look of surprise.</p> + +<p>“Do not think it strange,” said Father Salví. +“I was just paying you a compliment.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra thanked him and approached Sinang.</p> + +<p>“Where have you been all day?” she asked, with a +childish laugh. “We have been asking each other, ‘Where +could this soul redeemed from purgatory have gone?’ Each one of +us gave a different answer.”</p> + +<p>“And will you not tell what you said?”</p> + +<p>“No, that is a secret; but I will surely tell you in private. +Now tell us where you have been so that we can see who has been able to +guess it.”</p> + +<p>“No, that also is a secret; but I will tell you alone, if the +señores will permit.”</p> + +<p>“Certainly, certainly!” said Father Salví.</p> + +<p>Sinang took Crisostomo to one end of the hall. She was very happy +with the idea of knowing a secret.</p> + +<p>“Tell me, my little friend,” said Ibarra, “Is +Maria angry with me?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know, but she says that it is better that you should +forget her and then begins to cry. Captain Tiago wants her to marry +that gentleman; Father Dámaso also wishes it; but she says +neither yes nor no. This morning when we were asking for you, I said: +‘What if he has gone to make love to some one else?’ She +replied to me: ‘Would to God that he had!’ and then began +to cry.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra was serious.</p> + +<p>“Tell Maria that I want to speak with her alone.”</p> + +<p>“Alone?” asked Sinang, knitting her eyebrows and looking +at him. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb210" href= +"#pb210">210</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Entirely alone, no. But so that we may not be seen by that +other señor.”</p> + +<p>“It is difficult, but don’t worry. I will tell +her.”</p> + +<p>“And when will I know the answer?”</p> + +<p>“To-morrow come to the house early. Maria never wants to be +alone. We keep her company. Victoria sleeps by her side one night, and +I the next. To-morrow night it is my turn. But listen: What is the +secret? You are going without telling me the principal +thing.”</p> + +<p>“That is true. I was in the town of Los Baños. I went +up there to do some business in cocoanut trees, since I am thinking of +building a factory. Your father will be my partner.”</p> + +<p>“Nothing more than that? Give us the secret!” exclaimed +Sinang in a loud voice and in the tone of a defrauded usurer. “I +thought——”</p> + +<p>“Take care. I don’t want you to tell it.”</p> + +<p>“I have no desire to!” replied Sinang, sticking up her +nose. “If it were something more important, I would tell it to my +friends. But to buy cocoanuts! cocoanuts! Who is interested in +cocoanuts?”</p> + +<p>And she went away in haste to find her girl friends.</p> + +<p>A few moments afterward, Ibarra seeing that the conversation was +lagging, took leave of the gathering. Captain Tiago’s expression +was between sweet and sour; Linares was silent and observing; and the +curate, feigning to be joyful, was telling stories. None of the girls +had returned. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb211" href= +"#pb211">211</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch33" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXXIII.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Playing Cards with the Shades.</h2> + +<p>A cloudy sky hides the moon, and a cold wind, the omen of approaching +December, whirls the dry leaves and dust in the narrow path leading to +the cemetery.</p> + +<p>Under the gate, three forms are conversing in a low tone.</p> + +<p>“Have you spoken to Elias?” asked a voice.</p> + +<p>“No; you know he is very odd and discreet. But he ought to be +with us. Don Crisostomo saved his life.”</p> + +<p>“I accepted the offer for the same reason,” said the +first voice. “Don Crisostomo is having my wife treated at a +doctor’s house in Manila. I have agreed to take charge of the +convent in the attack, so that I can settle my accounts with the +curate.”</p> + +<p>“And we, we will have charge of the attack on the <i> +cuartel</i>, so that we can say to the members of the <i>Guardia +Civil</i> that our father had sons.”</p> + +<p>“How many will there be of you?”</p> + +<p>“Five! Five will be enough. Don Crisostomo’s servant +says that there will be twenty in all.”</p> + +<p>“And if things don’t turn out well?”</p> + +<p>“St!” said one, and they all became silent.</p> + +<p>In the semi-darkness, a form could be seen crawling along the fence. +From time to time it stopped, as if to look behind.</p> + +<p>And it did so not without reason. Behind, at some twenty paces, came +another form. This one was taller and seemed to be darker than the +first. Each time that the first stopped this second one would disappear +as if the earth had swallowed it.</p> + +<p>“They are following me,” murmured the one ahead. +“Is it a <i>Guardia Civil?</i> Has the sacristan lied?”</p> + +<p>“It appears that the appointment is here,” said the +second, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb212" href= +"#pb212">212</a>]</span>in a low voice. “They are up to something +bad, when the two brothers hide it from me.”</p> + +<p>The first form finally arrived at the gate of the cemetery. The +three who were already there advanced.</p> + +<p>“Is it you?”</p> + +<p>“Is it you?”</p> + +<p>“Let us separate. Some one is following me. To-morrow we will +have the arms and to-morrow night will be our time. The cry is +‘Viva Don Crisostomo!’ Begone!”</p> + +<p>The three persons disappeared behind the wall. The recent arrival +hid himself in the hollow of the gate and waited silently.</p> + +<p>“Let’s see who is following me!” he murmured.</p> + +<p>The second person came along very cautiously, and stopped to look +around.</p> + +<p>“I have arrived late!” said he in a half intelligible +voice. “But perhaps they will return.”</p> + +<p>And, as a fine rain began to fall and threatened to continue, he +took refuge under the gate. Naturally, he met the other.</p> + +<p>“Ah! who are you?” asked the one who had just come up, +in a manly voice.</p> + +<p>“And who are you?” replied the other tranquilly.</p> + +<p>There was a moment’s pause. Each tried to recognize the other +by the tone of his voice and to distinguish the other’s +features.</p> + +<p>“What are you waiting here for?” asked the one with the +heavy voice.</p> + +<p>“Till the clock strikes eight, so as to have a game of cards +with the dead. I want to win some money to-night,” replied the +other, in an ordinary tone. “And you: what do you come here +for?”</p> + +<p>“A—a—for the same thing.”</p> + +<p>“Well! I am glad. So I will not be without a companion. I have +brought some cards. At the first stroke of the bell, I put down the <i> +albur</i> (the first two cards put on the board in monte). At the +second stroke, I put down the <i>gallo</i> (the second pair). The cards +which move after I have put them down, are those which the dead choose +for themselves. Did you also bring some cards?”</p> + +<p>“No.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb213" href= +"#pb213">213</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Then?”</p> + +<p>“It is simple. Just as you act as ‘banker’ for +them, so I hope that they will ‘bank’ for me.” (In +monte the banker deals the cards and bets that one of the cards in +either the <i>albur</i> or <i>gallo</i> is turned up by dealing off the +pack, before the card chosen by the other person is turned up. A banker +can play against two others.)</p> + +<p>“And if the shades do not care to +‘bank’?”</p> + +<p>“What can be done? The game is not obligatory upon the +dead.”</p> + +<p>There was a moment’s silence.</p> + +<p>“Did you come armed? What if you have to fight with the shades +of the dead?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll use my fists,” replied the taller of the +two.</p> + +<p>“Ah! The devil! Now, I remember! The dead do not bet when +there is more than one live person around. There are two of +us.”</p> + +<p>“Is that true? Well, I don’t want to go away.”</p> + +<p>“Nor I. I need some money,” replied the smaller one. +“But let us do this: We will decide by the cards which one shall +go away.”</p> + +<p>“All right!” replied the other, showing a certain amount +of displeasure.</p> + +<p>“Then let us go in. Have you any matches?”</p> + +<p>They entered the cemetery and in the obscurity they searched for a +place where they might decide the question with the cards. They soon +found a niche upon which they sat down. The shorter one took from his +hat some playing cards and the other lighted a match.</p> + +<p>Each one looked at the other in the light which the match made, but, +judging from the expression on their faces, they did not recognize each +other. However, we can recognize in the taller one, the one with the +manly voice, Elias; and in the smaller one, Lucas, with the scar on his +cheek.</p> + +<p>“Cut the cards!” said the latter, without ceasing to +look at the other.</p> + +<p>He pushed aside some bones which were found on the niche and turned +up an ace and a jack for the <i>albur</i>. Elias lighted one match +after another.</p> + +<p>“On the jack!” said he and, in order to show which of +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb214" href="#pb214">214</a>]</span>the +cards he was betting on, he placed upon it a piece of +vertebræ.</p> + +<p>“I deal!” said Lucas and, after turning up four or five +cards, an ace came up.</p> + +<p>“You have lost,” he added. “Now leave me alone so +that I may win some money.”</p> + +<p>Elias, without saying a word, disappeared in the darkness.</p> + +<p>Some minutes afterward, the clock in the church struck eight and the +bell announced the hour of prayer. But Lucas did not invite anybody to +play with him. He did not call out the shades, as superstition +demanded. Instead, he uncovered his head, murmured some prayers and +crossed himself with the same fervor as the chief of the Brotherhood of +the Most Sacred Rosary would have done at that moment.</p> + +<p>The drizzling rain continued all night. At nine o’clock the +streets were dark and lonely. The little cocoanut oil lanterns, which +each citizen had to hang out in front of his house gave light scarcely +a meter around. It seemed as though they had been lighted so one might +see the darkness.</p> + +<p>Two Civil Guards were walking from one side of the street to the +other near the church.</p> + +<p>“It is cold,” said one in Tagalog with a Visayan accent. +“We aren’t catching any sacristans. There is nobody to +clean out the <i>alferez’s</i> hen yard and we ought to catch +some sacristan and make him do it. Since that one was killed, they have +taken warning. I am getting tired of this.”</p> + +<p>“So am I,” replied the other. “Nobody commits any +robbery; no one disturbs the peace; but, thank God, they say that Elias +is in town. The <i>alferez</i> says that the one who catches him will +be free from whippings for three months.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! Do you know his identification marks?” asked the +Visayan.</p> + +<p>“I certainly do! Stature, tall, according to the <i> +alferez’s</i> description; ordinary, according to the description +of Father Dámaso; color, brunette; eyes, black; nose, regular; +mouth, regular; beard, none; hair, black.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! And particular marks?” <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb215" href="#pb215">215</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“<i>Camisa</i>, black; pantaloons, black; a +wood-cutter——”</p> + +<p>“Ah! He will not escape. I think I see him already.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t confuse him with anybody else, although you +might think so.”</p> + +<p>Both soldiers continued their beats.</p> + +<p>By the light of the lantern two forms could again be seen, one +following the other cautiously. A forcible “<i lang="es">Quien +vive?</i>” stops them both. The first one replied “<i lang= +"es">España</i>,” in a trembling voice.</p> + +<p>The two soldiers drag him along and bring him up to the light, to +recognize him. It was Lucas, but the soldiers were in doubt and +questioned each other with a glance.</p> + +<p>“The <i>alferez</i> said nothing about his having a +scar,” said the Visayan in a low voice. “Where are you +going?”</p> + +<p>“To order a mass for to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“Have you not seen Elias?”</p> + +<p>“I do not know him, señor,” replied Lucas.</p> + +<p>“You dunce! I am not asking if you know him. Nor do we know +him. I am asking you if you have seen him.”</p> + +<p>“No, señor.”</p> + +<p>“Listen closely. I will give you his description. Stature, at +times tall, at times regular; skin and eyes, black; all the others are +regular,” said the Visayan. “Do you know him +now?”</p> + +<p>“No, señor,” replied Lucas, frightened.</p> + +<p>“Then, <i>sulung</i>! (Go along). You brute! You ass!” +And they gave him a shove.</p> + +<p>“Do you know why Elias is tall, according to the <i> +alferez</i>, and why he is short, according to the curate?” asked +the <span class="corr" id="xd0e5865" title="Source: Tagalo"> +Tagalog</span> of the other.</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Because the <i>alferez</i> was stuck in a mud hole when he +observed him, and the curate was on foot when he saw him.”</p> + +<p>“That’s right!” exclaimed the Visayan. “You +are bright. Why are you a <i>Guardia Civil</i>?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t been always. I was a smuggler at one +time,” replied the Tagalog boastingly.</p> + +<p>But another form attracted their attention. They called out +“<i lang="es">Quien Vive?</i>” and brought him up to the +light. This time it was Elias himself. <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb216" href="#pb216">216</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Where are you going?”</p> + +<p>“I am pursuing, señor, a man who has whipped and +threatened my brother. He has a scar on his face and his name is +Elias——”</p> + +<p>“Ha?” exclaimed the two, and looked at each other +frightened.</p> + +<p>And at once they started on a run toward the church, where a few +minutes before Lucas had disappeared. <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb217" href="#pb217">217</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch34" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXXIV.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The Discovery.</h2> + +<p>The bell announces the hour of evening prayer. On hearing the +religious sound, all stop, leave their work and uncover their heads; +the laborer, coming from the fields on the <i>carabao’s</i> back, +suspends the song to which the animal keeps step, and prays; the women +in the middle of the street make the sign of the cross, and move their +lips with affectation so that no one may doubt their devotion: the man +stops fondling his game-cock and recites the Angelus so that he may +have good luck; in the houses, they pray in a loud voice ... every +sound which is not a part of the <i>Ave Maria</i> is dissipated, +silenced.</p> + +<p>However, the curate, without his hat, hastily crosses the street, +scandalizing many old women. And still more scandalous, he directs his +steps towards the <i>alferez’s</i> house. The devout women think +that it is time for them to stop the movement of their lips and to kiss +the curate’s hand, but Father Salví takes no notice of +them. To-day he finds no pleasure in placing his bony hand under a +Christian’s nose. Some important business must be occupying him +that he should so forget his own interests and those of the Church!</p> + +<p>He goes up the stairs and knocks impatiently at the <i> +alferez’s</i> door. The latter appears, his eyebrows knit and +followed by his better half, who smiles malignantly.</p> + +<p>“Ah, Father Curate! I was just going to see you. Your +he-goat....”</p> + +<p>“I have a most important matter....”</p> + +<p>“I can’t allow your goat to go on breaking down my +fence.... I’ll shoot him if he gets in there again.”</p> + +<p>“That is if you are alive to-morrow,” said the curate, +breathless, and directing himself toward the <i>sala</i>.</p> + +<p>“What! do you think that that seven-months-old puppy will kill +me? I’ll kick him to pieces.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb218" href="#pb218">218</a>]</span></p> + +<p>Father Salví stepped back and looked instinctively at the +feet of the <i>alferez</i>.</p> + +<p>“Whom are you talking about?” asked he, trembling.</p> + +<p>“Of whom could I be talking but that big blockhead who +proposes to challenge me to a duel with revolvers at one hundred +paces?”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” sighed the curate, and added: “I have come +to speak about a most urgent matter which seriously concerns the life +of all of us.”</p> + +<p>“Seriously!” repeated the <i>alferez</i>, turning pale +in turn. “Does this young fellow shoot well...?”</p> + +<p>“I am not speaking about him.”</p> + +<p>“Then?”</p> + +<p>The friar pointed to the door which the a<i>lferez</i> shut in his +customary manner, by a kick. The a<i>lferez</i> usually found his hands +superfluous. An imprecation and a groan from without were heard.</p> + +<p>“You brute. You have cut open my head!” cried his +wife.</p> + +<p>“Now unbosom yourself,” said he to the curate in a quiet +manner. The latter looked at him for some time. Afterward he asked, in +that nasal and monotonous priest’s voice:</p> + +<p>“Did you see how I came running?”</p> + +<p>“Umph! I thought something was the matter with you.”</p> + +<p>“When I leave my duties in this manner there are grave +motives.”</p> + +<p>“And what is it?” asked the other, stamping his foot on +the floor.</p> + +<p>“Calm yourself!”</p> + +<p>“Then, why did you come in such a hurry?”</p> + +<p>The curate approached him and asked in a mysterious way:</p> + +<p> +“Don’t—you—know—anything—new?”</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“You confess that you know absolutely nothing?”</p> + +<p>“What! do you mean to tell me about Elias, whom your sacristan +mayor hid last night?” he asked.</p> + +<p>“No, no! I don’t speak of such matters now,” +replied the curate, in a bad humor. “I am talking about a great +danger.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb219" href= +"#pb219">219</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Then d——n it! Let it out.”</p> + +<p>“Now then,” said the friar slowly and with a certain +disdain, “you will see again how important we priests are. The +lowest layman is worth a regiment, so that a curate....”</p> + +<p>And then lowering his voice in a very mysterious manner:</p> + +<p>“I have discovered a great conspiracy.”</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> started and looked at the friar astonished.</p> + +<p>“A terrible and well-laid conspiracy, which is to break out +this very night.”</p> + +<p>“This very night!” exclaimed the <i>alferez</i>, moving +at first toward Father Salví, and then running after his +revolver and saber, which were hanging on the wall: “Whom shall I +arrest? Whom shall I arrest?” he cried.</p> + +<p>“Be calm. It is not yet time, thanks to my great haste. At +eight o’clock.”</p> + +<p>“I’ll shoot them all!”</p> + +<p>“Listen! This afternoon a woman, whose name I must not mention +(it is a secret of the confessional) came to me and disclosed it all. +At eight o’clock they will take the <i>cuartel</i> by surprise, +sack the convent, seize the Government’s steamboat and +assassinate all the Spaniards.”</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> was stupified.</p> + +<p>“The woman has not told more than that,” added the +curate.</p> + +<p>“Has not told you more? Then I’ll arrest her!”</p> + +<p>“No; I cannot consent to it. The tribunal of penitence is the +throne of God of forgiveness.”</p> + +<p>“Neither God nor forgiveness count in this matter. I’ll +arrest her.”</p> + +<p>“You are losing your head. What you ought to do is to prepare +yourself. Arm your soldiers quietly and put them in ambush. Send me +four Guards for the convent and notify the people on the Government +steamboat.”</p> + +<p>“The boat is not here. I’ll send to other sections for +aid.”</p> + +<p>“They would notice that and would not go on with their plans. +No, don’t do that. What is important is that we catch them alive +and make them talk; I say, you will make them disclose the conspiracy. +I, in the capacity <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb220" href= +"#pb220">220</a>]</span>of a priest, ought not to mix myself in these +matters. Now’s your chance! Here you can win crosses and stars. I +ask only that you make it evident that I am the one who warned +you.”</p> + +<p>“It will be made evident, Father, it will be made evident! And +perhaps a mitre will fall to you!” replied the radiant <i> +alferez</i>.</p> + +<p>“Be sure and send me four un-uniformed Civil Guards, eh? Be +discreet! To-night at eight o’clock, it will rain stars and +crosses.”</p> + +<p>While this was going on, a man came running down the road which led +to Ibarra’s house, and quickly went up the stairs.</p> + +<p>“Is the Señor at home?” asked Elias of the +servant.</p> + +<p>“He is in his laboratory at work.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra, in order to pass the time while he impatiently waited for +the hour when he could make explanations to Maria Clara, had gone to +work in his cabinet.</p> + +<p>“Ah, is it you, Elias?” he exclaimed. “I was +thinking about you. Yesterday, I forgot to ask you for the name of that +Spaniard in whose house your grandfather lived.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t bother yourself, Señor, about +me....”</p> + +<p>“Look!” continued Ibarra, without noting the agitation +of the young man, and putting a piece of bamboo to a flame. “I +have made a great discovery. This bamboo is +incombustible....”</p> + +<p>“Don’t talk about bamboo now, Señor. Talk about +collecting your papers and fleeing in a minute.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra looked at him surprised, and, on seeing the seriousness in +Elias’s countenance, he dropped the object which he had in his +hands.</p> + +<p>“Burn everything that can possibly implicate you in any way +and put yourself in a more secure place within an hour.”</p> + +<p>“And what for?” he asked at last.</p> + +<p>“Put all that you have of value in a secure +place....”</p> + +<p>“And what for?”</p> + +<p>“Burn all papers written by you or to you. The most innocent +can be interpreted in a bad sense.”</p> + +<p>“But what for?”</p> + +<p>“What for? Because I have just discovered a conspiracy <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb221" href="#pb221">221</a>]</span>which will +be attributed to you in order to ruin you.”</p> + +<p>“A conspiracy? And who has planned it?”</p> + +<p>“I have been unable to learn the author of it. Only a moment +ago I was talking with one of the unfortunate men who have been paid +for it. I could not dissuade him.”</p> + +<p>“And didn’t that fellow say who paid him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. Asking me to keep the secret, he told me that it was +you.”</p> + +<p>“My God!” exclaimed Ibarra. He stood stupefied.</p> + +<p>“Señor, don’t hesitate, don’t doubt, +don’t lose time, for undoubtedly the conspiracy will break out +this very night.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra, with staring eyes, and hands holding his head, seemed not to +hear him.</p> + +<p>“The blow cannot be thwarted,” continued Elias. “I +have arrived too late. I do not know their leaders ... save yourself, +Señor, save yourself for the sake of your country.”</p> + +<p>“Where shall I flee? They are expecting me this +evening,” exclaimed Ibarra, thinking of Maria Clara.</p> + +<p>“To any other town, to Manila, to the house of some official; +only flee somewhere so that they will not say that you are directing +the movement.”</p> + +<p>“And if I myself denounce the conspiracy?”</p> + +<p>“You denounce it?” exclaimed Elias, looking at him, and +stepping back. “You would pass for a traitor and a coward in the +eyes of the conspirators, and for a pusillanimous person in the eyes of +others. They would say that you had played a trick to win some praise, +they would say....”</p> + +<p>“But what can be done?”</p> + +<p>“Already I have told you. Destroy all the papers you have +which relate to you; flee and await developments.”</p> + +<p>“And Maria Clara?” exclaimed the young man. “No; +death first!”</p> + +<p>Elias wrung his hands and said:</p> + +<p>“Well, then, at least avoid the blow. Prepare yourself against +their accusations.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra looked around him in a stupefied manner.</p> + +<p>“Then, help me! There in those bags I have my family <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb222" href="#pb222">222</a>]</span>letters. +Sort out those from my father, which are, perhaps, the ones that would +incriminate me. Read the signatures.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra, stunned and overwhelmed, opened and closed drawers, +collected papers, hastily read letters, tore up some, kept others, took +down books and thumbed through some of them. Elias did the same, if +indeed with less confusion, with equal zeal. But he stopped, with eyes +wide open, turned over a paper which he had in his hand and asked in a +trembling voice:</p> + +<p>“Did your family know Don Pedro Eibarramendia?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly!” replied Ibarra, opening a drawer and taking +out a pile of papers. “He was my great-grandfather.”</p> + +<p>“Your great grandfather? Don Pedro Eibarramendia?” he +again asked, with livid features and a changed appearance.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” replied Ibarra, distracted. “We cut short +the name, for it was too long.”</p> + +<p>“He was a Basque?” said Elias approaching him.</p> + +<p>“Yes; but what’s the matter?” he asked, +surprised.</p> + +<p>Elias closed his fist, shook it in Ibarra’s face and looked at +him. Crisostomo stepped back as soon as he read the expression on that +face.</p> + +<p>“Do you know who Don Pedro Eibarramendia was?” he asked +between his teeth. “Don Pedro Eibarramendia was that wretch who +accused my grandfather and caused all our misery.... I was looking for +one of his name. God has given you into my hands.... Account to me for +our misfortunes.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra looked at him terrified. Elias shook him by the arm and, in a +bitter voice, filled with hate, said:</p> + +<p>“Look at me well; see if I have suffered, and you, you live, +you love, you have fortune, home, consideration. You live ... you +live!”</p> + +<p>And, beside himself, he ran toward a small collection of arms, but +he had scarcely grasped two swords when he let them fall, and, like a +madman, looked at Ibarra, who remained immovable.</p> + +<p>“What am I to do?” he said and fled from the house. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb223" href="#pb223">223</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch35" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXXV.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The Catastrophe.</h2> + +<p>There in the dining-room Captain Tiago, Linares, and Aunt Isabel +were eating supper. In the <i>sala</i> the rattling of plate and +tableware was heard. Maria Clara had said that she did not care to eat +and had seated herself at the piano. By her side was jolly Sinang, who +murmured little secrets in Maria’s ear, while Father Salví +uneasily paced the <i>sala</i>.</p> + +<p>It was not because the convalescent had no appetite that she was not +eating. It was because she was awaiting the arrival of a certain person +and had taken advantage of the moment in which her Argus could not be +present, the hour when Linares ate.</p> + +<p>“You will see how that ghost will stay till eight +o’clock,” murmured Sinang, pointing to the curate. +“At eight o’clock <i>he</i> ought to come. This priest is +as much in love as Linares.”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara looked at her friend, frightened. The latter, without +noticing her expression, continued her terrible gossip:</p> + +<p>“Ah! Now I know why he doesn’t go, in spite of all my +hints. He doesn’t want to burn the lamps in the convent. +Don’t you see? Ever since you fell ill, he has had the two lights +which he used to burn, put out. But look at his eyes and his +face!”</p> + +<p>Just at that moment the clock in the house struck eight. The curate +trembled and went and sat down in a corner of the room.</p> + +<p>“He is coming,” said Sinang, pinching Maria Clara. +“Do you hear?”</p> + +<p>The bell in the church tolled eight and all arose to pray. Father +Salví, with a weak and trembling voice, led, but, as each one +had his own thoughts, nobody paid any attention to him. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb224" href="#pb224">224</a>]</span></p> + +<p>The prayer had scarcely ended, when Ibarra presented himself. The +young man was wearing mourning, not only in his dress, but in his face. +In fact, it was so evident that Maria Clara, on seeing him, arose and +took a step toward him as if to ask what ailed him, but at the same +instant a discharge of musketry was heard. Ibarra stopped, his eyes +rolled and he was unable to speak. The curate hid himself behind a +pillar. More shooting and more noise was heard in the direction of the +convent, followed by cries and the sound of people running. Captain +Tiago, Aunt Isabel and Linares entered the room, hurriedly crying +“<i lang="es">tulisan! tulisan!</i>” Andeng followed them, +brandishing a spit and ran toward her foster sister.</p> + +<p>Aunt Isabel fell on her knees and prayed the <i>Kyrie eleison</i>. +Captain Tiago, pale and trembling, carried a chicken’s liver on +his fork, and, in tears, offered it to the Virgin of Antipolo. Linares +had his mouth full and was armed with a spoon. Sinang and Maria Clara +embraced each other. The only person who did not move was Ibarra. He +stood as if petrified, his face indescribably pale.</p> + +<p>The cries and blows continued, the windows were shut with a bang, a +whistle was heard, and occasionally a shot.</p> + +<p>“<i>Christe eleison!</i> Santiago, fasten the windows,” +groaned Aunt Isabel.</p> + +<p>“Fifty great bombs and a thanksgiving mass,” replied +Captain Tiago. “<i lang="la">Ora pro nobis!</i>”</p> + +<p>After a time, things quieted down and there was a terrible silence. +The voice of the <i>alferez</i> was distinguished, as he came running +in, and crying: “Father curate! Father Salví! +Come!”</p> + +<p>“<i>Misere!</i> The <i>alferez</i> is asking for +confession!” cried Aunt Isabel.</p> + +<p>“Is he wounded?” asked Linares at last. +“Ah!”</p> + +<p>“Come, Father Salví! There is nothing to fear +now,” continued the <i>alferez</i>, shouting.</p> + +<p>Father Salví, pale, and decided at last, came out of his +hiding-place and went downstairs.</p> + +<p>“The <i>tulisanes</i> have killed the <i>alferez</i>!” +said Aunt Isabel.</p> + +<p>“Maria Clara, Sinang, go to your room! Fasten the door! <i> +Kyrie eleison!</i>”</p> + +<p>Ibarra also went toward the stairs, in spite of Aunt <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb225" href="#pb225">225</a>]</span>Isabel, who was +saying: “Don’t go out! You haven’t confessed yet. +Don’t go out!”</p> + +<p>The good old woman had been a great friend of Ibarra’s +mother.</p> + +<p>But Ibarra left the house. It seemed to him that all about him was +revolving through the air, that even the ground was gone from under his +feet. His ears buzzed. His legs moved heavily and irregularly. Waves of +blood, light and darkness, succeeded one another on the retina of his +eye.</p> + +<p>Despite the fact that the moon was shining brightly in the heavens, +the young man stumbled on every stone in the solitary and deserted +street.</p> + +<p>Near the <i>cuartel</i> he saw some soldiers with their bayonets +fixed, talking excitedly. He passed by unseen.</p> + +<p>In the tribunal, blows, cries, wails, and curses were heard. The <i> +alferez’s</i> voice drowned all the others.</p> + +<p>“Put him in the stocks! Put handcuffs on that fellow! Two +shots for whoever moves! Sergeant, you will mount your guard! Let no +one pass, not even God! Corporal, let no one sleep!”</p> + +<p>Ibarra hastened his steps toward his house. His servants were +uneasily awaiting him.</p> + +<p>“Saddle the best horse and go to bed!” said he to +them.</p> + +<p>He entered his laboratory and hurriedly began to get his travelling +bag ready. He opened an iron box, took out all the money which he found +there and put it in a bag. He gathered his jewels together, took down a +picture of Maria Clara which was hanging upon the wall, and, arming +himself with a dirk and two revolvers, he turned to the cupboard where +he had some tools.</p> + +<p>At that instant, three blows, loud and strong, sounded on the +door.</p> + +<p>“Who’s there?” asked Ibarra, in a doleful +voice.</p> + +<p>“Open in the name of the King! Open the door at once, or we +will knock it down!” replied an imperious Spanish voice.</p> + +<p>Ibarra looked toward the window. His eyes flashed and he cocked his +revolver. But changing his mind, he left the arms and went to open the +door at the same moment that the servants came up. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb226" href="#pb226">226</a>]</span></p> + +<p>Three Guards seized him instantly.</p> + +<p>“You are made a prisoner in the name of the King!” said +the sergeant.</p> + +<p>“What for?”</p> + +<p>“They will tell you later. We are prohibited from saying a +word.”</p> + +<p>The young man reflected a moment and not wishing, perhaps, the +soldiers to discover his preparations for flight, he took his hat and +said:</p> + +<p>“I am at your disposal. I suppose it will be only for a short +time.”</p> + +<p>“If you promise not to escape, we will not handcuff you. The +<i>alferez</i> grants this favor, but if you +flee——”</p> + +<p>Ibarra followed, leaving the servants in consternation.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, what had become of Elias?</p> + +<p>On leaving Crisostomo’s house, like a madman, he ran about +without knowing where. He crossed fields, and in violent agitation +arrived at a forest. He was fleeing from people, and from light. The +moon troubled him and he entered the mysterious shade of the forest. +Sometimes stopping, sometimes following unbroken paths, leaning upon +century-old trunks, entangled in the briars, he looked toward the town, +which lay at his feet bathed in the light of the moon, stretching +itself out on the plain, lying on the shore of the lake. Birds, +disturbed in their sleep, flew away. Owls screeched and flew from one +limb to another. But Elias neither heard nor saw them. He thought he +was being followed by the infuriated shades of his ancestors. He saw +the horrible basket hanging from every branch with the blood-covered +head of Bálat, just as his father had described it to him. He +thought he saw the dead body of his grandmother lying at the foot of +every tree. He seemed to see the skeleton of his dishonored grandfather +in the darkness, and the skeleton, the old woman, and the head all +cried out to him, “Coward! Coward!”</p> + +<p>He left the mountain and fled down toward the sea. He ran along the +beach in agitation. But there in the distance, amid the waves, where +the light of the moon seemed to raise a fog, he thought he saw a shade +raise itself, the shade of his sister, with her breast covered with +blood, her hair hanging loose in the air. <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb227" href="#pb227">227</a>]</span></p> + +<p>Elias fell upon his knees on the sand.</p> + +<p>“And you, too!” he cried stretching out his arms.</p> + +<p>Then, with his eyes fixed on the fog, he arose slowly and, advancing +toward it, went into the water as if to follow somebody. He waded on +over the gentle slope of the beach which forms the bar. He was already +far from the shore and the water was up to his belt. He went on and on, +as if fascinated by a seducing spirit. The water was now up to his +breast. Suddenly, the discharge of musketry awoke him from his dream, +the vision disappeared, and the young man returned to reality. He +stopped, reflected, and noticed that he was in the water. The lake was +smooth and he could still see the lights in the fishermen’s +huts.</p> + +<p>He returned to the shore and made his way toward the town. What for? +He himself did not know.</p> + +<p>The town seemed uninhabited. The houses were all closed. Even the +animals, the dogs which are accustomed to bark at night, had hid +themselves through fear. The silvery light of the moon increased the +sadness and solitude.</p> + +<p>Afraid of meeting the Civil Guards, he went through the orchards and +gardens. In one of the gardens he thought he saw two human forms, but +he continued his way. Jumping over fences and walls, he arrived after +great labor at the other side of the town, and directed his steps +toward Ibarra’s house. The servants were in the door, lamenting +and commenting on the arrest of their master.</p> + +<p>Aware of what had passed, Elias went away, but returned to the +house, leaped over the wall, crawled through a window and went into the +cabinet or laboratory, where the candle which Ibarra had left was still +burning.</p> + +<p>Elias saw the papers and the books. He found the arms and the little +sacks which contained the money and the jewelry. All that had passed +ran through his imagination again, and, seeing all the papers which +might incriminate Ibarra, he thought of collecting them, throwing them +through the window and burying them.</p> + +<p>He glanced toward the garden and, by the light of the <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb228" href="#pb228">228</a>]</span>moon, he saw two +Civil Guards coming with an adjutant. Their bayonets and helmets were +glistening in the light.</p> + +<p>Then he decided. He piled up the clothes and papers in the middle of +the cabinet, emptied the oil in a lamp upon the pile and set fire to +it. He quickly buckled the arms around him. He saw the picture of Maria +Clara, hesitated—put it in one of the little sacks, and jumped +out of the window with them all.</p> + +<p>It was already time, for the two Civil Guards were forcing their +entrance.</p> + +<p>“Let us go up to get your master’s papers,” said +the adjutant.</p> + +<p>“Have you permission? If not, you shall not go up!” said +an old servant.</p> + +<p>But the soldiers pushed the servants aside with the butts of their +guns and went upstairs. A thick smoke was already filling the whole +house, and gigantic tongues of flame were coming out from the <i> +sala</i>, licking the doors and windows.</p> + +<p>“Fire! Fire! Fire!” they all cried.</p> + +<p>Each hurried to save what he could, but the fire had filled the +small laboratory, breaking out furiously among the inflammable +materials. The Civil Guards had to turn back. The fire, roaring and +sweeping all before it, closed the passage to them. In vain they +brought water from the well. All were shouting, and crying for help, +but they were isolated. The fire reached the other rooms and in thick +columns of smoke ascended to the heavens. Some peasants came from a +distance, but they arrived only in time to see the frightful spectacle, +the end of that old building, so long respected by the elements. <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb229" href="#pb229">229</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch36" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXXVI.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">What People Say and Think.</h2> + +<p>Day dawned at last for the terrorized people. The streets in which +the <i>cuartel</i> and the tribunal were situated were still deserted +and solitary. The houses showed no signs of life. However, a shutter +was opened with a creaking noise and an infant head stuck out and +looked in all directions.... Slap!... A sound announces hard contact +between a strip of leather and a human body. The child made a grimace, +closed its eyes and disappeared. The shutter was closed again.</p> + +<p>The example had been set. Without any doubt the opening and closing +of the shutter has been heard, for another window was opened very +slowly and cautiously and a wrinkled and toothless old woman thrust out +her head. She was called Sister Ruté. She looked about, knit her +brows, spit noisily and then crossed herself. In the house opposite, a +little window was timidly opened and her friend, Sister Rufa appeared. +They looked at each other for a moment, smiled, made some signals, and +again crossed themselves.</p> + +<p>“<i>Jesús!</i> It was like a thanksgiving mass,” +said Sister Rufa.</p> + +<p>“Since the time that Bálat sacked the town I have never +seen a night like it,” replied Sister Puté.</p> + +<p>“What a lot of shots! They say that it was old Pablo’s +gang.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Tulisanes?</i> It couldn’t be. They say that it was +the <i>cuaderilleros</i> against the Civil Guards. For this reason, +they have arrested Don Filipo.”</p> + +<p>“<i lang="la">Sanctus Deus!</i> They say that there are no +less than fourteen killed.”</p> + +<p>Other windows were opened and different faces appeared, exchanging +salutations and commenting on the affair.</p> + +<p>In the light of the day—which promised to be a splendid <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb230" href= +"#pb230">230</a>]</span>one—could be seen in the distance, like +ash-colored shadows, soldiers hurrying about in confusion.</p> + +<p>“There goes another corpse!” said some one from one of +the windows.</p> + +<p>“One? I see two.”</p> + +<p>“And so do I. But do you know what it was?” asked a man +with a crafty face.</p> + +<p>“Certainly. The <i>cuaderilleros</i>.”</p> + +<p>“No, Señor. An uprising at the <i> +cuartel</i>.”</p> + +<p>“What uprising? The curate against the <i> +alferez</i>?”</p> + +<p>“No, nothing of the sort,” said he who had asked the +question. “The Chinese have risen in revolt.”</p> + +<p>And he closed his window again.</p> + +<p>“The Chinese!” repeated all, with the greatest +astonishment.</p> + +<p>In a quarter of an hour other versions of the affair were in +circulation. Ibarra, with his servants, it was said, had tried to steal +Maria Clara, and Captain Tiago, aided by the <i>Guardia Civil</i> had +defended her.</p> + +<p>By this time the number of the dead was no longer fourteen, but +thirty. Captain Tiago, it was said, was wounded and was going right off +to Manila with his family.</p> + +<p>The arrival of two <i>cuaderilleros</i>, carrying a human form in a +wheelbarrow, and followed by a Civil Guard, produced a great sensation. +It was supposed that they came from the convent. From the form of the +feet which were hanging down, they tried to guess who it could be. By +half-past seven, when other Civil Guards arrived from neighboring +towns, the current version of the affair was already clear and +detailed.</p> + +<p>“I have just come from the tribunal, where I have seen Don +Filipo and Don Crisostomo prisoners,” said a man to Sister +Puté. “I talked with one of the <i>cuaderilleros</i> on +guard. Well, Bruno, the son of the man who was whipped to death, made a +declaration last night. As you know, Captain Tiago is going to marry +his daughter to a Spaniard. Don Crisostomo, offended, wanted to take +revenge and tried to kill all the Spaniards, even the curate. Last +night they attacked the convent and the <i>cuartel</i>. Happily, by +mercy of God, the curate was in Captain Tiago’s house. They say +that many escaped. The Civil <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb231" href= +"#pb231">231</a>]</span>Guards burned Don Crisostomo’s house, and +if they had not taken him prisoner, they would have burned him, +too.”</p> + +<p>“They burned the house?”</p> + +<p>“All the servants were arrested. Why, you can still see the +smoke from here!” said the narrator, approaching the window. +“Those who come from there relate very sad things.”</p> + +<p>All looked toward the place indicated. A light column of smoke was +still ascending to the heavens. All made comments more or less pious, +more or less accusatory.</p> + +<p>“Poor young man!” exclaimed an old man, the husband of +Puté.</p> + +<p>“Yes!” replied his wife. “But he did not order a +mass for the soul of his father, who undoubtedly needs it more than +others.”</p> + +<p>“But wife, you don’t have any pity....”</p> + +<p>“Sympathy for the excommunicated? It is a sin to have pity for +the enemies of God, say the curates. Don’t you remember? He ran +over the sacred burial ground as if he were in a cattle pen.”</p> + +<p>“But a cattle pen and a cemetery are much alike,” +responded the old man, “except that but one class of animals +enter the cemetery.”</p> + +<p>“What!” cried Sister Puté. “Are you still +going to defend him whom God so clearly punishes? You will see that +they will arrest you, too. You may support a falling house, if you want +to!”</p> + +<p>The husband became silent in view of this argument.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” continued the old woman, “after striking +Father Dámaso, there was nothing left for him to do but to kill +Father Salví.”</p> + +<p>“But you can’t deny that he was a good boy when he was a +child.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, he was a good child,” replied the old woman, +“but he went to Spain. All those who go to Spain return heretics, +so the curates say.”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” exclaimed the husband, seeing his revenge. +“And the curate, and all the curates, and the Archbishops, and +the Pope, and the Virgin—are they not Spaniards? Bah! Are they +heretics, too? Bah!”</p> + +<p>Happily for Sister Puté, the arrival of a servant, who rushed +in confused and pale, cut off the discussion. <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb232" href="#pb232">232</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“A man hanged in a neighboring orchard!” she exclaimed +breathless.</p> + +<p>“A man hanged!” exclaimed all, full of amazement.</p> + +<p>The women crossed themselves. No one could stir.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Señor,” continued the servant, trembling. +“I was going to gather some peas in.... I looked into the orchard +next door ... to see if there ... I saw a man swinging.... I thought it +was Teo ... I went nearer to gather peas, and I saw that it was not he +but it was another, and was dead ... I ran, ran and....”</p> + +<p>“Let us go and see it,” said the old man, rising. +“Take us there.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t go!” cried Sister Puté, seizing him +by the shirt.</p> + +<p>“You’ll get into trouble! He has hanged himself? Then +all the worse for him!”</p> + +<p>“Let me see it, wife! Go to the tribunal, Juan, and report it. +Perhaps he is not dead yet.”</p> + +<p>And he went ino[typo, should be into?] the orchard, followed by the +servant, who kept hid behind him. The women and Sister Puté +herself came along behind, full of terror and curiosity.</p> + +<p>“There it is, Señor,” said the servant stopping +him and pointing with her finger.</p> + +<p>The group stopped at a respectful distance, allowing the old man to +advance alone.</p> + +<p>The body of a man, hanging from the limb of a <i>santol</i> tree, +was swinging slowly in the breeze. The old man contemplated it for some +time. He looked at the rigid feet, the arms, the stained clothing and +the drooping head.</p> + +<p>“We ought not to touch the corpse until some official has +arrived,” said he, in a loud voice. “He is already stiff. +He has been dead for some time.”</p> + +<p>The women approached hesitatingly.</p> + +<p>“It is the neighbor who lived in that little house; the one +who arrived only two weeks ago. Look at the scar on his +face.”</p> + +<p>“Ave Maria!” exclaimed some of the women.</p> + +<p>“Shall we pray for his soul?” asked a young girl as soon +as she had finished looking at the dead body from all directions.</p> + +<p>“You fool! You heretic!” Sister Puté scolded her. +“Don’t you know what Father Dámaso said? To pray for +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb233" href="#pb233">233</a>]</span>a +damned person is to tempt God. He who commits suicide is irrevocably +condemned. For this reason, he cannot be buried in a sacred place. I +had begun to think that this man was going to have a bad ending. I +never could guess what he lived on.”</p> + +<p>“I saw him twice speaking with the sacristan mayor,” +observed a girl.</p> + +<p>“It couldn’t have been to confess himself or to order a +mass!”</p> + +<p>The neighbors gathered together and a large circle surrounded the +corpse which was still swinging. In half an hour some officers and two +<i>cuaderilleros</i> arrived. They took the body down and put it in a +wheelbarrow.</p> + +<p>“Some people are in a hurry to die,” said one of the +officers, laughing, while he took out the pen from behind his ear.</p> + +<p>He asked some trifling questions; took the declaration of the +servant, whom he tried to implicate, now looking at her with evil in +his eyes, now threatening her and now attributing to her words which +she did not say—so much so that the servant, believing that she +was going to be taken to jail, began to weep and finished by declaring +that she was looking for peas, but that ... and she called Teo to +witness.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, a peasant with a wide hat and a large plaster on +his neck, was examining the body, and the rope by which it was +hanging.</p> + +<p>The face was no more livid than the rest of the body. Above the rope +could be seen two scars and two small bruises. Where the rope had +rubbed, there was no blood and the skin was white. The curious peasant +examined closely the <i>camisa</i> and the pantaloons. He noted that +they were full of dust and recently torn in some places. But what most +attracted his attention were the “stick-tights”<a class= +"noteref" id="xd0e6522src" href="#xd0e6522">1</a> on his clothing, even +up to his neck.</p> + +<p>“What do you see?” asked the officer.</p> + +<p>“I was trying to identify him, señor,” stammered +the peasant, lowering his hat further from his uncovered head. <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb234" href="#pb234">234</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“But haven’t you heard that it was one Lucas? Were you +sleeping?”</p> + +<p>All began to laugh. The peasant, embarrassed, muttered a few words, +and went away with head down, walking slowly.</p> + +<p>“Here! Where are you going?” cried the old man. +“You can’t get out that way. That’s the way to the +dead man’s house.”</p> + +<p>“That fellow is still asleep,” said the officer with a +jeer. “We’ll have to throw some water on him!”</p> + +<p>Those standing around laughed again.</p> + +<p>The peasant left the place where he had played so poor a part and +directed his steps toward the church. In the <span class="corr" id= +"xd0e6545" title="Source: sacristry">sacristy</span>, he asked for the +sacristan mayor.</p> + +<p>“He is still sleeping!” they replied gruffly. +“Don’t you know that they sacked the convent last +night?”</p> + +<p>“I will wait till he awakes.”</p> + +<p>The sacristans looked at him with that rudeness characteristic of +people who are in the habit of being ill-treated.</p> + +<p>In a dark corner, the one-eyed sacristan mayor was sleeping in a +large chair. His spectacles were across his forehead among his long +locks of hair. His squalid, bony breast was bare, and rose and fell +with regularity.</p> + +<p>The peasant sat down near by, disposed to wait patiently, but a coin +fell on the floor and he began looking for it with the aid of a candle, +under the sacristan mayor’s big chair. The peasant also noted +“stick-tights” on the sleeping man’s pantaloons and +on the arms of his <i>camisa</i>. The sacristan awoke at last, rubbed +his good eye, and, in a very bad humor, reproached the man.</p> + +<p>“I would like to order a mass said, señor,” +replied he in a tone of excuse.</p> + +<p>“They have already finished all the masses,” said the +one-eyed man, softening his accent a little. “If you want it for +to-morrow.... Is it for souls in Purgatory?”</p> + +<p>“No, señor;” replied the peasant, giving him a +<i>peso</i>.</p> + +<p>And looking fixedly in his one eye, he added:</p> + +<p>“It is for a person who is going to die soon.” And he +left the sacristy. “I could have seized him last night,” he +added, sighingly as he removed the plaster from his neck. And he +straightened up and regained the stature and appearance of Elias. <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb235" href="#pb235">235</a>]</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#xd0e6522src" id="xd0e6522">1</a></span> A plant (<i>Desmodium +caresceus</i>), the dry seeds of which cling to the clothing.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id="ch37" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXXVII.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Vae Victis!</h2> + +<p>Civil Guards were passing with a sinister air to and fro in front of +the door of the tribunal, threatening with the butts of their guns the +daring boys who stood on tip-toe or raised each other up in order to +look through the grates in the windows.</p> + +<p>The <i>sala</i> did not present that same joyful aspect as it did +when the program for the festival was being discussed. It was gloomy +and the silence was almost death-like. The Civil Guards and the <i> +cuaderilleros</i> who were occupying the room scarcely spoke and the +few words that they did pronounce were in a low tone. Around the table +sat the <i>directorcillo</i>, two writers and some soldiers scribbling +papers. The <i>alferez</i> walked from one side to the other, looking +from time to time ferociously toward the door. Themistocles after the +battle of Salamis could not have shown more pride at the Olympic games. +Doña Consolacion yawned in one corner of the room, and disclosed +her black palate and her crooked teeth. Her cold and evil look was +fixed on the door of the jail, covered with indecent pictures. Her +husband, made amiable by the victory, had yielded to her request to be +allowed to witness the interrogation and, perhaps, the tortures which +were to follow. The hyena smelled the dead body, she licked her chops +and was wearied at the delay in the punishment.</p> + +<p>The <i>gobernadorcillo’s</i> chair, that large chair under the +portrait of His Majesty, was empty and seemed destined for some other +person.</p> + +<p>At nearly nine o’clock, the curate, pale and with eyebrows +knit, arrived.</p> + +<p>“Well, you haven’t made any one wait!” said the +<i>alferez</i> sarcastically to the friar. <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb236" href="#pb236">236</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“I would have preferred not to be present,” replied +Father Salví, in a low voice, without taking notice of the +bitter tone.... “I am very nervous.”</p> + +<p>“As no one came, I decided that, in order not to leave the +chair empty, your presence.... You already know that the prisoners are +to leave town this afternoon.”</p> + +<p>“Young Ibarra and the <i>teniente mayor?</i>”</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> pointed toward the jail.</p> + +<p>“Eight are in there,” said he. “Bruno died last +night at midnight, but his declaration has been obtained.”</p> + +<p>The curate saluted Doña Consolacion, who responded with a +yawn and an “aah!” The friar took the big chair under the +picture of His Majesty.</p> + +<p>“We can begin,” said he.</p> + +<p>“Bring out the two who are in the stocks!” ordered the +<i>alferez</i> in his most terrifying voice. And turning to the curate, +he added, changing his tone:</p> + +<p>“They are fastened in the stocks with two holes +vacant!”</p> + +<p>For those who are interested in instruments of torture, we will say +that the stocks is one of the most innocent. The holes in which are +fastened the legs of the prisoner are a little more or less than a palm +apart. Leaving two holes vacant, and putting the prisoner’s legs +in the holes on either side, would make the position strained, so that +the ankles would suffer peculiarly and the lower extremities be +stretched apart more than a yard. It does not kill instantly, as may +well be imagined.</p> + +<p>The turnkey, followed by four soldiers, drew back the bolt and +opened the door. A nauseating odor, and the thick, damp air escaped +from the dense darkness of the prison and, at the same time, groans and +sighs were heard. A soldier lighted a match, but the flame was +extinguished in that foul, vitiated atmosphere, and they had to wait +till the air was renewed.</p> + +<p>In the vague light of a candle, several human forms could be +discerned. They were men, some of whom locked their arms around their +knees and hid their heads between them, others were lying down, with +their mouths to the ground, some standing, and some leaning against the +wall. A blow and a creaking sound was heard, accompanied by oaths; the +stocks were being opened. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb237" href= +"#pb237">237</a>]</span></p> + +<p>Doña Consolacion’s body was bent forward, the muscles +of her neck were rigid, her eyes riveted to the half open door.</p> + +<p>Between the soldiers came out Tarsilo, the brother of Bruno. He wore +handcuffs. His torn clothes disclosed well-developed muscles. His eyes +were fixed insolently on the <i>alferez’s</i> wife.</p> + +<p>“This is the one who defended himself most bravely, and who +ordered his companions to flee,” said the <i>alferez</i> to +Father Salví.</p> + +<p>Behind came another miserable sight, a man crying and weeping like a +child. He was limping and his pantaloons were stained with blood.</p> + +<p>“Mercy, señor, have mercy! I will not enter the <i> +cuartel</i> yard again,” he cried.</p> + +<p>“He is a crafty fellow,” said the <i>alferez</i>, +speaking to the curate. “He wanted to flee, but had received a +flesh wound.”</p> + +<p>“What is your name?” asked the <i>alferez</i>, speaking +to Tarsilo.</p> + +<p>“Tarsilo Alasigan.”</p> + +<p>“What did Don Crisostomo promise you for attacking the <i> +cuartel</i>?”</p> + +<p>“Don Crisostomo has never communicated with us.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t deny it! You wanted to surprise us for +him!”</p> + +<p>“You are mistaken. You whipped our father to death. We avenged +him and nothing more. Look for your two soldiers!”</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> looked at the sergeant, surprised.</p> + +<p>“They are at the bottom of that precipice. We threw them there +yesterday. There they will rot. Now kill me! You will know nothing +more.”</p> + +<p>Silence and general surprise.</p> + +<p>“You are not going to tell who were your accomplices?” +said the <i>alferez</i> in a threatening manner and brandishing a +whip.</p> + +<p>A scornful smile curled the lips of the culprit.</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> conferred for some minutes with the curate in a +low voice. Then turning to the soldiers, he ordered:</p> + +<p>“Take him to where the dead bodies are!”</p> + +<p>In a corner of the yard, upon an old wagon, were five <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb238" href="#pb238">238</a>]</span>bodies close +together and half covered by a filthy piece of torn matting. A soldier +on guard was pacing up and down, and constantly spitting.</p> + +<p>“Do you recognize them?” asked the <i>alferez</i>, +lifting the matting.</p> + +<p>Tarsilo did not respond. He saw the dead body of Pedro, with two +others; one, his own brother, riddled with bayonet wounds, and the +other, Lucas, with the rope still around his neck. His look became +gloomy and a sigh seemed to escape from his breast.</p> + +<p>“Do you know them?” they asked him.</p> + +<p>Tarsilo remained silent.</p> + +<p>There was a whistling sound and the whip came down across his back. +He trembled, and his muscles contracted. The lashes were repeated, but +Tarsilo continued impassive.</p> + +<p>“Let them whip him till they cut him to pieces or till he +makes a declaration,” cried the <i>alferez</i>, exasperated.</p> + +<p>“Speak then!” said the <i>directorcillo</i> to him. +“They will surely kill you.”</p> + +<p>They led him back to the <i>sala</i> of the tribunal, where the +other prisoner was invoking God, grating his teeth and shaking on his +legs.</p> + +<p>“Do you know this man?” asked Father Salví.</p> + +<p>“This is the first time I have ever seen him,” replied +Tarsilo, looking with a certain pity on the other.</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> gave him a cuff with his fist and kicked him.</p> + +<p>“Tie him to the bench!”</p> + +<p>Without taking off the bloody handcuffs, he was fastened to the +wooden bench. The unhappy fellow looked about him as if in search of +some one, and his eyes fell on Doña Consolacion. He smiled +sardonically. Those present were surprised and followed his glance and +saw the señora. She was biting her lips.</p> + +<p>“I have never seen an uglier woman,” exclaimed Tarsilo +amid the general silence. “I prefer to lie down on this bench as +I am doing than to lie by her side, like the <i>alferez</i>.”</p> + +<p>The Muse turned pale.</p> + +<p>“You are going to whip me to death, <i>alferez</i>,” he +continued, <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb239" href= +"#pb239">239</a>]</span>“but to-night I will be avenged by your +woman.”</p> + +<p>“Gag him!” shouted the <i>alferez</i>, furious and +trembling with rage.</p> + +<p>It seemed as though Tarsilo had wanted the gag, for when he had it +in his mouth, his eyes gleamed with a ray of satisfaction.</p> + +<p>At a signal from the <i>alferez</i> a guard, armed with a whip, +began his cruel task. The whole body of Tarsilo shrank. A groan, +suppressed and prolonged, could be heard in spite of the rag which +stopped up his mouth. He lowered his head. His clothes were being +stained with blood.</p> + +<p>Father Salví, pale and with a wild look, rose to his feet +laboriously, made a sign with his hand and left the <i>sala</i> with +vacillating steps. In the street, he saw a girl, leaning her back +against the wall, rigid, immovable, listening attentively, looking into +space, her marble-like hands extended along the old wall. The sun was +shining full upon her. She was counting, it seemed without breathing, +the sharp blows and listening to that heart-rending groan. She was +Tarsilo’s sister.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, the scene was continuing in the <i>sala</i>. The +unfortunate fellow, overcome with pain, had become silent and waited +for his punishers to tire. At last, the soldier breathless, let fall +his arm. The <i>alferez</i>, pale with wrath and astonishment, made a +signal for them to unloose him.</p> + +<p>Doña Consolacion then arose and whispered something into her +husband’s ear. He nodded his head, signifying that he +understood.</p> + +<p>“To the well with him!” said he.</p> + +<p>The Filipinos know what that means. In Tagalog they call it <i> +timbain</i>. We do not know who could have been the inventor of this +method of punishment, but we are of the opinion that he must have lived +long ago. In the middle of the tribunal yard there was a picturesque +stone-wall, roughly made out of cobble stones, around a well. A rustic +apparatus of bamboo in the form of a lever serves to draw out the vile, +dirty and bad smelling water. Broken dishes, refuse and all sorts of +filth collected there, since the well was a common receptacle for +everything <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb240" href= +"#pb240">240</a>]</span>that the people threw away or found useless. An +object which fell into the place, no matter how good it may have been, +was thereafter surely lost. However, the well was never closed up. At +times, prisoners were condemned to go down and make it deeper, not +because it was thought that the work would be useful in any way, but +because the work was so difficult. If a prisoner went down in the well +once, he invariably contracted a fever, from which he died.</p> + +<p>Tarsilo contemplated all the preparations of the soldiers with a +firm look. He was very pale and his lips were trembling or murmuring a +prayer. The haughtiness of his desperation seemed to have disappeared, +or at least to have weakened. A number of times he bent his head, fixed +his eyes on the ground, resigned to his suffering.</p> + +<p>They took him to one side of the stone wall. Doña Consolacion +followed smiling. The unfortunate wretch glanced enviously toward the +pile of dead bodies, and a sigh escaped from his breast.</p> + +<p>“Speak now!” said the <i>directorcillo</i> again. +“They will certainly drown you. At least, die without having +suffered so much.”</p> + +<p>“When you come out of this, you will die,” said a <i> +cuaderillero</i>.</p> + +<p>They took the gag out of his mouth and hung him by his feet. He had +to go down head first and remain under the water some time just like a +bucket, except that a man is left under the water a longer time.</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> went to look for a watch that he might count the +minutes.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, Tarsilo was hanging, his long hair waving in the +air and his eyes half closed.</p> + +<p>“If you are Christians, if you have hearts,” he begged, +in a low voice, “let me down rapidly and make my head strike +against the wall that I may die. God would reward such a good deed.... +Perhaps some day you will be in the same straits as I am +now.”</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> returned and with watch in hand witnessed the +descent.</p> + +<p>“Slowly, slowly!” cried Doña Consolacion +following the poor fellow with her eyes. “Be careful!” +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb241" href="#pb241">241</a>]</span></p> + +<p>The pole was being lowered slowly. Tarsilo rubbed against the +projecting stones and the dirty plants which grew in the crevices. +Then, the pole ceased to move. The <i>alferez</i> was counting the +seconds.</p> + +<p>“Up!” he ordered dryly, at the end of a half minute.</p> + +<p>The silvery harmony of the drops of water falling back into the +well, announced the return of the unfortunate man to the light. As the +weight on the end of the lever was heavy, he came up quickly. The rough +pieces of stone and pebbles, torn loose from the walls, fell with +splashes to the bottom.</p> + +<p>His face and hair full of filthy mud, his body wet and dripping, he +appeared again in the sight of the silent crowd. The wind made him +shiver with cold.</p> + +<p>“Do you want to make a declaration?” they asked him.</p> + +<p>“Take care of my sister!” the unhappy one murmured, +looking at the <i>cuaderillero</i>, with supplication.</p> + +<p>The bamboo pole creaked again, and again the condemned man +disappeared. Doña Consolacion observed that the water remained +still. The <i>alferez</i> counted a minute.</p> + +<p>When Tarsilo came up again, his face was livid and his features +contracted. He glanced at those standing around and kept open his +bloodshot eyes.</p> + +<p>“Will you make a declaration?” asked the <i>alferez</i> +again, with vexation.</p> + +<p>Tarsilo shook his head and again they let him down. His eyelids were +almost closed and his eyes were gazing at the white clouds floating in +the heavens. He bent his neck to keep sight of the light of day, but he +was soon submerged in the water. That filthy curtain closed from him +the sight of the world.</p> + +<p>A minute passed. The Muse saw large bubbles of air come up to the +surface of the water.</p> + +<p>“He is thirsty,” said she, laughing.</p> + +<p>The water was again smooth.</p> + +<p>This time a minute and a half had passed when the <i>alferez</i> +gave the signal.</p> + +<p>Tarsilo’s features were no longer contracted. The half opened +lids showed the white of his eyes. Muddy water, clotted with blood, ran +out of his mouth. The cool wind was blowing, but his body no longer +shivered. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb242" href= +"#pb242">242</a>]</span></p> + +<p>Those present, pale and terrified, looked at each other in silence. +The <i>alferez</i> made a signal for them to take him down from where +he was hanging, and stepped aside for a few moments. Doña +Consolacion a number of times applied the lighted end of her cigar to +the bare legs of Tarsilo, but his body did not quiver. It put out the +light.</p> + +<p>“He has asphyxiated himself,” murmured a <i> +cuaderillero</i>. “See how his tongue is turned, as if he wanted +to swallow it.”</p> + +<p>The other prisoner, trembling and perspiring, contemplated the +scene. Like a madman he looked about him.</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> ordered the <i>directorcillo</i> to question +him.</p> + +<p>“Señor, Señor,” he groaned. “I will +tell you all that you wish.”</p> + +<p>“Good. Let us see! What is your name?”</p> + +<p>“Andong, Señor!”</p> + +<p>“Bernardo ... Leonardo ... Ricardo ... Educardo. Gerardo ... +or what?”</p> + +<p>“Andong, Señor,” repeated the imbecile.</p> + +<p>“Call it Bernardo or whatever you please,” said the <i> +alferez</i>, decided not to bother more about it.</p> + +<p>“What family name?”</p> + +<p>The man looked at him frightened.</p> + +<p>“What’s your name? What do you add to the name +Andong?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, Señor! Andong Medio-tonto (half-fool), +Señor.”</p> + +<p>Those standing around could not resist a laugh. The <i>alferez</i> +himself stopped short.</p> + +<p>“What is your business?”</p> + +<p>“Cocoanut tree pruner, Señor, and servant for my +mother-in-law.”</p> + +<p>“Who ordered you to attack the <i>cuartel</i>?”</p> + +<p>“Nobody, Señor.”</p> + +<p>“What’s that; nobody? Don’t you lie or we will put +you in the well. Who ordered you to do it? Speak the truth.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the truth, Señor.”</p> + +<p>“Who?”</p> + +<p>“Who?” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb243" href= +"#pb243">243</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“I ask you who ordered you to revolt.”</p> + +<p>“What revolt, Señor?”</p> + +<p>“That one last night, when you were in the tribunal +yard.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, Señor!” exclaimed Andong, blushing.</p> + +<p>“Who was to blame for that?”</p> + +<p>“My mother-in-law, Señor.”</p> + +<p>A laugh of surprise followed this reply. The <i>alferez</i> stopped +and looked sharply at the simple peasant, who believed that his words +had produced a good effect. More animated, he was about to continue +when the crack of a whip cut him short.</p> + +<p>“To the jail!” ordered the <i>alferez</i>. “This +afternoon, send him to the capital.” <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb244" href="#pb244">244</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch38" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXXVIII.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The Accursed.</h2> + +<p>The news that the prisoners were going to depart spread quickly +through the town. At first, the news was heard with terror; afterward, +came tears and lamentations.</p> + +<p>The members of the families of the prisoners were running about +madly. They would go from the convent to the <i>cuartel</i> from the +<i>cuartel</i> to the tribunal, and not finding consolation anywhere, +they filled the air with cries and moans. The curate had shut himself +up because he was ill. The <i>alferez</i> had increased his guards, who +received the supplicants with the butts of their guns. The <i> +gobernadorcillo</i>, a useless being, anyway, seemed more stupid and +useless than ever.</p> + +<p>The sun was burning hot, but none of the unhappy women who were +gathered in front of the <i>cuartel</i> thought of that. Doray, the gay +and happy wife of Don Filipo, wandered about, with her tender little +child in her arms. Both were crying.</p> + +<p>“Get out of the sun,” they said to her. “Your son +will catch a fever.”</p> + +<p>“What is the use of his living if he has no father to educate +him?” replied the dispirited woman.</p> + +<p>“Your husband is innocent. Perhaps he will return.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, when we are in our graves.”</p> + +<p>Capitana Tinay wept and cried for her son, Antonio. The courageous +Capitana Maria gazed toward the small grate, behind which were her +twins, her only sons.</p> + +<p>There, too, was the mother-in-law of the cocoanut tree pruner. She +was not crying; she was walking to and fro, gesticulating, with shirt +sleeves rolled up, and haranguing the public.</p> + +<p>“Have you ever seen anything equal to it?” said she. +“They arrest my Andong, wound him, put him in the <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb245" href="#pb245">245</a>]</span>stocks, and take +him to the capital, all because he happened to be in the <i>cuartel</i> +yard.”</p> + +<p>But few people had any sympathy for the Mussulman mother-in-law.</p> + +<p>“Don Crisostomo is to blame for all of this,” sighed a +woman.</p> + +<p>The school teacher also was wandering about in the crowd. Ñor +Juan was no longer rubbing his hands, nor was he carrying his yard +stick and plumb line. He had heard the bad news and, faithful to his +custom of seeing the future as a thing that had already happened, he +was dressed in mourning, mourning for the death of Ibarra.</p> + +<p>At two o’clock in the afternoon, an uncovered cart, drawn by +two oxen, stopped in front of the tribunal.</p> + +<p>The cart was surrounded by the crowd. They wanted to destroy it.</p> + +<p>“Don’t do that!” said Capitana Maria. “Do +you want them to walk?”</p> + +<p>This remark stopped the relatives of the prisoners. Twenty soldiers +came out and surrounded the cart. Then came the prisoners.</p> + +<p>The first was Don Filipo; he was tied. He greeted his wife with a +smile. Doray broke into a bitter lamentation and two soldiers had to +work hard to keep her from embracing her husband. Antonio, the son of +Captain Tinay, next appeared, crying like a child—a fact which +made the family cry all the more. The imbecile, Andong, broke out in a +wail when he saw his mother-in-law, the cause of his misfortune. +Albino, the former seminary student, came out with his hands tied, as +did also the twin sons of Capitana Maria. These three youths were +serious and grave. The last who came was Ibarra. The young man was +pale. He looked about for the face of Maria Clara.</p> + +<p>“That is the one who is to blame!” cried many voices. +“He is to blame and he will go free.”</p> + +<p>“My son-in-law has done nothing and he is +handcuffed.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra turned to the guards.</p> + +<p>“Tie me, and tie me well, elbow to elbow,” said he.</p> + +<p>“We have no orders.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb246" href="#pb246">246</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Tie me!”</p> + +<p>The soldiers obeyed.</p> + +<p>The <i>alferez</i> appeared on horse-back, armed to the teeth. Ten +or fifteen more soldiers followed him.</p> + +<p>Each of the prisoners had there in the crowd his family praying for +him, weeping for him, and calling him by the most affectionate names. +Ibarra was the only exception. Even Ñor Juan himself and the +school-teacher had disappeared.</p> + +<p>“What have you done to my husband and my son?” said +Doray to Ibarra, crying. “See my poor boy! You have deprived him +of a father!”</p> + +<p>The grief of the people was changed to wrath against the young man, +accused of having provoked the riot. The <i>alferez</i> gave orders to +depart.</p> + +<p>“You are a coward!” cried the mother-in-law of Andong to +Ibarra. “While the others were fighting for you, you were hiding. +Coward!”</p> + +<p>“Curses upon you!” shouted an old man following him. +“Cursed be the gold hoarded up by your family to disturb our +peace! Curse him! Curse him!”</p> + +<p>“May they hang you, heretic!” cried one of +Albino’s relatives. And unable to restrain himself, he picked up +a stone and threw it at Ibarra.</p> + +<p>The example was quickly imitated, and a shower of dust and stones +fell on the unfortunate youth.</p> + +<p>Ibarra suffered it all, impassive, without wrath, without a +complaint—the unjust vengeance of suffering hearts. This was the +leave-taking, the “adios” tendered to him by his town, the +center of all his affections. He bowed his head. Perhaps he was +thinking of another man, whipped through the streets of Manila, of an +old woman falling dead at the sight of the head of her son. Perhaps the +history of Elias was passing before his eyes.</p> + +<p>The cortége moved slowly on and away.</p> + +<p>Of the persons who appeared in a few opened windows, those who +showed the most compassion for the unfortunate young man were the +indifferent and the curious. All his friends had hidden themselves; +yes, even Captain Basilio, who forbade his daughter Sinang to weep.</p> + +<p>Ibarra saw the smouldering ruins of his house, of the <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb247" href="#pb247">247</a>]</span>house of his +fathers where he had been born, where he had lived the sweetest days of +his infancy and childhood. Tears, for a long time suppressed, burst +from his eyes. He bowed his head and wept, wept without the consolation +of being able to hide his weeping, tied as he was by the elbows. Nor +did that grief awaken compassion in anybody. Now he had neither +fatherland, home, love, friends or future.</p> + +<p>From a height a man contemplated the funeral-like caravan. He was +old, pale, thin, wrapped in a woollen blanket and was leaning with +fatigue on a cane. It was old Tasio, who as soon as he heard of what +had happened wanted to leave his bed and attend, but his strength would +not permit it. The old man followed with his eyes the cart until it +disappeared in the distance. He stood for some time, pensive and his +head bowed down; then he arose, and laboriously started on the road to +his house, resting at every step.</p> + +<p>The following day, shepherds found him dead on the very threshold of +his solitary retreat. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb248" href= +"#pb248">248</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch39" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XXXIX.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Maria Clara is Married.</h2> + +<p>Captain Tiago was very happy. During all this terrible time nobody +had busied himself with him. They had not arrested him, nor had they +submitted him to excommunications, court trials, electrical machines, +continual hot foot baths in subterranean places, or to any of the other +punishments which are well known to certain people who call themselves +civilized. He had returned to his Manila house. Those who had been the +Captain’s friends—for he had renounced all his Filipino +friends from the moment that they were suspected by the +Government—had also returned to their homes after some days of +vacation spent in the Government buildings. The Governor General had +himself ordered these people to leave their possessions, for he had not +thought it fitting that they should remain in them during the great +danger.</p> + +<p>Captain Tiago was overflowing with gratitude, but he did not know +exactly to whom he was indebted for such signal favors. Aunt Isabel +attributed the miracle to the Virgin of Antipolo, to the Virgin of the +Rosary, or at least to the Virgin of Carmen. The least that she would +concede was that it was due to Our Lady of Corea. According to the +Aunt, the miracle was certainly due to one of these Virgins. Captain +Tiago did not deny that it was a miracle, but he added:</p> + +<p>“I do not believe, Isabel, that the Virgin of Antipolo could +have done it alone. My friends have aided in it; my future son-in-law, +Señor Linares has, as you know, joked with Señor Antonio +Canovas himself, whose portrait we saw in +‘Illustracion.’”</p> + +<p>And the good man could not suppress a smile every time that he heard +any important news about the event. And there was good reason for it. +It was whispered about that Ibarra was going to be hanged; that, even +if many proofs <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb249" href= +"#pb249">249</a>]</span>had been lacking, at last one had appeared +which could confirm the accusation; and that skilled workmen had +declared that, as a matter of fact, the work for the school-house could +pass for a fort or a fortification. Even if defective in some parts, +that was as much as could be expected from ignorant Indians. These +rumors quieted the Captain and made him smile.</p> + +<p>Just as the Captain and his cousin, Aunt Isabel, were of different +opinions about the miracle, so, too, the other friends of the family +were divided into different parties—those who followed the +miracle monger, and those who followed the Government. The latter +party, however, was quite insignificant. The miracle mongers were +sub-divided into other factions: the Sacristan Mayor of Binondo, the +woman who sold the wax candles, and the chief of one of the +brotherhoods, all saw the hand of God in the miracle, moved by the +Virgin of the Rosary. The Chinese candle maker, who provided the +Captain whenever he went on a pilgrimage to Antipolo, was saying as he +sat fanning himself and wiggling his foot:</p> + +<p>“What for you b’long foolish? Thisee belong Mergin +Antipolo. She can do muchy more: others, no can do. No b’long +plopper say pidgin b’long other man.”</p> + +<p>Captain Tiago held the Chinaman in great estimation and made him +pass for a prophet and doctor. Examining the hand of his deceased wife +in the sixth month of her pregnancy, he had prophesied:</p> + +<p>“If thisee one no b’long man, and no go dead side, will +b’long bery good woman.”</p> + +<p>And so it was that Maria Clara came to this earth and fulfilled the +Chinaman’s prophecy.</p> + +<p>Captain Tiago, being a prudent and timid person, could not decide +the question of the miracle as easily as the Trojan Paris. He could not +give preference to one of the Virgins for fear of offending some other +of them, a thing which might bring about grave results. +“Prudence,” he said to himself. “Be prudent! Let us +not lose all now.”</p> + +<p>He was in the midst of these doubts when the party in favor of the +Government, or the Governmental party, arrived, viz., Doña +Victorina, Don Tiburcio, and <span class="corr" id="xd0e7115" title= +"Source: Linars">Linares</span>. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb250" +href="#pb250">250</a>]</span></p> + +<p>Doña Victorina did all the talking for the three men and for +herself also. She mentioned the visits which Linares had made to the +Governor General, and repeatedly brought out the benefits derived from +having a relative of <i>categoría</i>.</p> + +<p>For some days past, she had been trying to be Andalusian by +suppressing the <i>d</i> in all words and in changing the <i>s</i> to +<i>z</i>. No one could get the idea out of her head; she would prefer +to lose her front curls first.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she said, in speaking of Ibarra. “That +fellow merits very well all that he is going to get. I told you so when +I saw him for the first time. I told you he was a <i>filibustero</i>. +What did the General tell you, cousin? What did he say? What news did +you give him about Ibarra?”</p> + +<p>Seeing that the cousin hesitated in his reply, she went on, +directing her words to Captain Tiago.</p> + +<p>“Believe me, if they convict him, as is to be hoped, it will +be through my cousin.”</p> + +<p>“Señora, Señora!” protested Linares.</p> + +<p>But she did not give him any time.</p> + +<p>“Oh, what a diplomat you have turned out to be! But we all +know that you are the adviser of the Governor General, that he could +not live without you. Ah! What a pleasure to see you, +Clarita.”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara seemed paler than ever, although she was now quite +recovered from her illness. Sadly smiling, she approached and greeted +Doña Victorina with a formal kiss.</p> + +<p>After the customary words had been exchanged, Doña went on +with her false Andalusian.</p> + +<p>“We came to visit you. You have been saved by the efforts of +your friends,”—looking significantly at Linares.</p> + +<p>“God has protected my father,” said the girl, in a low +voice.</p> + +<p>“Yes, Clarita, but the time for miracles has passed long ago. +As we Spaniards say: ‘Have no trust in the Virgin and save +yourself by running.’”</p> + +<p>“The—th—the ot—ot—other way,” +said the doctor, correcting her proverbial quotation.</p> + +<p>Captain Tiago, who had not yet found opportunity to say a word, +ventured to ask her, giving much attention <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb251" href="#pb251">251</a>]</span>to her reply: “So you, +Doña Victorina, believe that the Virgin...?”</p> + +<p>“That is precisely what we came for, to speak to you about <i> +the</i> Virgin,” replied she, indicating Maria Clara. “We +have a matter to talk over.”</p> + +<p>The maiden understood that she ought to retire. She sought an excuse +and went away, supporting herself on the furniture as she walked +along.</p> + +<p>What was said in the conference which followed was so low and mean +that we prefer to omit it. It is sufficient for us to say that when +they took their leave all were happy, and that Captain Tiago afterward +said to his cousin:</p> + +<p>“Isabel, send word to the restaurant that we are going to give +a <i>fiesta</i> to-morrow. You get Maria ready to be married in a short +time.”</p> + +<p>Aunt Isabel looked at him, surprised.</p> + +<p>“You will see! When Señor Linares is our son-in-law all +the palaces will be open to us. They will be envying us; they will all +die with envy.”</p> + +<p>And thus it was that at eight o’clock on the following +evening, Captain Tiago’s house was again full of guests, only +that this time the men whom he had invited were either Spaniards or +Chinamen, while the fair sex was represented by Spaniards born in the +Peninsula or in the Philippines.</p> + +<p>The larger part of our acquaintances was there: Father Sibyla, +Father Salví and several other Franciscans and Dominicans, the +old lieutenant of the Civil Guard, Señor Guevara, more +melancholy than ever; the <i>alferez</i>, who related his battle for +the thousandth time, feeling himself head and shoulders above everybody +and a veritable Don Juan de Austria, now a lieutenant with the rank of +commander; De Espadaña, who looked at the former with respect +and fear and avoided his glance; and the indignant Doña +Victorina. Linares was not yet present, for, being a very important +personage, it was fitting that he should arrive later than the +others.</p> + +<p>Maria Clara, the subject of all the gossip, was the center of a +group of women. She had greeted and received them ceremoniously, but +did not throw off her air of sadness. <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb252" href="#pb252">252</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Psh!” said one of the girls. “A little +stuck-up!”</p> + +<p>“A cute little thing,” replied another, “but he +might have selected some one of a more intelligent +appearance.”</p> + +<p>“It’s the money; he’s a good-looking fellow and +sells himself for a good price.”</p> + +<p>In another part of the room they were talking like this:</p> + +<p>“Marry, when her former betrothed is about to be +hanged!”</p> + +<p>“I call that prudence; to have one on hand as a +substitute.”</p> + +<p>Possibly the young maiden heard these remarks as she sat in a chair +near by, arranging a tray of flowers, for her hand was seen to tremble, +she turned pale and bit her lips a number of times.</p> + +<p>The conversation among the men was in a loud tone. Naturally, they +were conversant with the recent happenings. All were talking, even Don +Tiburcio, with the exception of Father Sibyla, who maintained a +disdainful silence.</p> + +<p>“I have heard that Your Reverence leaves the town, Father +Salví?” asked the newly made lieutenant, now made more +amiable by the star on his sleeve.</p> + +<p>“I have nothing more to do now in San Diego. I am permanently +settled in Manila now ... and you?”</p> + +<p>“I also leave the town,” replied the former <i> +alferez</i>, straightening up. “The Government needs me to take +command of a flying column to clear the provinces of <i> +filibusteros</i>.”</p> + +<p>Friar Salví looked him over from head to foot, and turned his +back to him completely.</p> + +<p>“Is it yet known for a certainty what is to become of the +leader of the revolutionists?” asked a Government employee.</p> + +<p>“Are you referring to Crisostomo Ibarra?” asked another. +“What is most probable and most just is that he be hanged, as +those were in ’72.”</p> + +<p>“He will be exiled,” said the old lieutenant, dryly.</p> + +<p>“Exiled! Nothing more than exiled! But it will be a perpetual +exile!” exclaimed several at the same time.</p> + +<p>“If that young fellow,” Lieutenant Guevara went on to +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb253" href="#pb253">253</a>]</span>say +in a loud voice, “had been more cautious; if he had trusted +certain people less with whom he had correspondence; and if the +officers had not made a subtle interpretation of what was +written—if it had not been for all of this, that young man would +surely have gone free.”</p> + +<p>This statement by the old lieutenant and the tone of his voice +produced a great surprise in the room. Those who heard it did not know +what to say. Father Salví looked in another direction, perhaps +so as not to meet the dark look which the old man directed toward him. +Maria Clara dropped her flowers and sat motionless. Father Sibyla, the +one who knew how to keep silent, appeared to be the only one who knew +how to ask questions.</p> + +<p>“Are you referring to the letters, Señor +Guevara?”</p> + +<p>“I am telling what the defendant’s attorney told me. He +has taken up the case with zeal and interest. Aside from some ambiguous +lines which this young man wrote to a young woman before departing for +Europe, they have found no proof to sustain the accusation. In these +few lines, the officers saw a plan and threat against the +Government.”</p> + +<p>“And what about the declaration made by the bandit before he +died?”</p> + +<p>“That statement has proved of no account, since, according to +the bandit himself, the conspirators never had communicated with the +young man, but only with one, Lucas, who was Ibarra’s enemy, as +they have been able to prove, and who committed suicide, perhaps from +remorse. It has been proved that the papers found in the possession of +the dead man were forged, since the handwriting was like that of Ibarra +seven years ago, but not like that of to-day—a fact which shows +that it was copied from the letter used as evidence against him. +Besides, his attorney says that if Ibarra had not admitted the +genuineness of the letter, he would have been able to do much for him; +but, at the sight of it, the young man turned pale, lost heart and +acknowledged that he had written it.”</p> + +<p>“Do you say,” asked a Franciscan, “that the letter +was directed to a young woman? How did it get into the hands of the +officers?”</p> + +<p>The lieutenant did not reply. He looked for a moment <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb254" href="#pb254">254</a>]</span>at Friar +Salví and then walked off, twisting nervously the end of his +grey beard. In the meantime, others were commenting something like +this:</p> + +<p>“There you see the hand of God!” said one. “Even +the women hate him.”</p> + +<p>“He had his house burned, thinking that he could thus save +himself. But he did not reckon with his host—that is, with his +<i>querida</i>,<a class="noteref" id="n254src" href="#n254">1</a> with +his <i>babai</i>,”<a class="pseudonoteref" href="#n254">1</a> +added another, smiling. “That is God’s work. Santiago +protects Spain!”</p> + +<p>The old army officer stopped and approached Maria Clara. She was +listening to the conversation, immovable in her seat. The flowers were +at her feet.</p> + +<p>“You are a very prudent young woman,” said the old +lieutenant to her in a low voice. “You have done well to hand +over the letter.... In this way you will assure yourself of a peaceful +future.”</p> + +<p>With dull eyes, and biting her lips, she looked at him as he walked +away. Luckily, Aunt Isabel passed her at this moment. Maria Clara +summoned enough strength to catch hold of her aunt’s dress.</p> + +<p>“Aunt,” she murmured.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter with you?” asked the latter, +frightened, as she saw the young woman’s face.</p> + +<p>“Take me to my room!” she begged, clinging to the arm of +the old woman in order to raise herself to her feet.</p> + +<p>“Are you sick, my child? You seem to have lost all your +strength. What is the matter with you?”</p> + +<p>“A little sick to my stomach ... the crowd in the <i>sala</i> +... so much light ... I need to rest. Tell father that I am going to +sleep.”</p> + +<p>“You are cold! Do you want some tea?”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara shook her head negatively. She closed the door of her +room and locked it, and, her strength failing her, she fell to the +floor, at the feet of an image, weeping and sobbing:</p> + +<p>“Mother, mother, my mother!”</p> + +<p>The moonlight was shining through the open window and door which led +out upon the <i>azotea</i>.</p> + +<p>The orchestra continued playing gay waltzes. The laughter and the +hum of conversation could be heard in <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb255" href="#pb255">255</a>]</span>her bedroom. A number of times her +family, Aunt Isabel, Doña Victorina, and even Linares, knocked +at her door, but Maria Clara did not move. There was a rattle in her +throat.</p> + +<p>Hours passed. The pleasures of the table ended, and dancing +followed. Her little candle burned out, but the maiden lay quietly on +the floor, the rays of moonlight shining upon her at the foot of an +image of the Mother of Jesus.</p> + +<p>Gradually the noises in the house died away, the lights were put +out, and Aunt Isabel again knocked at the door of her room.</p> + +<p>“Let us leave her; she is sleeping,” said her aunt. +“At her age, with nothing to trouble her, she sleeps like a +corpse.”</p> + +<p>When all was again silent, Maria arose slowly and glanced around +her. She saw the <i>azotea</i> and the small climbing plants bathed in +the melancholy light of the moon.</p> + +<p>“A peaceful future! Sleeping like a corpse!” she +murmured in a low voice, and turned toward the <i>azotea</i>.</p> + +<p>The city was quiet. Only the noise of an occasional carriage passing +over the wooden bridge could be heard in the stillness of the night, +while the tranquil waters of the river were reflecting the +moonlight.</p> + +<p>The maiden raised her eyes to the pure, sapphire-colored sky. Slowly +she took off her rings, her hair-combs, her earrings, and her +breast-pin, and placing them upon the balustrade of the <i>azotea</i> +she looked out toward the river.</p> + +<p>A <i>banca</i>, loaded with rice grass, stopped at the foot of the +landing on the bank of the river at the rear of the house. One of the +two men who were propelling the boat went up the stone steps, leaped +over the wall, and a few seconds afterward, steps were heard coming up +the <i>azotea</i>.</p> + +<p>Maria Clara saw him stop on discovering her, but it was for only a +moment. The man advanced slowly and at about three steps from the +maiden, stopped again. Maria Clara stepped back.</p> + +<p>“Crisostomo!” she gasped, full of terror.</p> + +<p>“Yes, I am Crisostomo!” replied the young man, in a +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb256" href="#pb256">256</a>]</span>grave +voice. “An enemy, a man who has good reason to hate me, Elias, +has helped me out of the prison into which my friends had thrown +me.”</p> + +<p>Silence followed these words. Maria Clara bowed her head and allowed +both her hands to drop at her side.</p> + +<p>Ibarra continued:</p> + +<p>“Beside the dead body of my mother, I swore to make you happy, +whatever might be my destiny. You can break your oath; she was not your +mother. But I, who am her son, I hold her memory sacred, and, running +great risk, I have come here to fulfill my oath. Fortune permits me to +speak with you personally. Maria, we shall not see each other again. +You are young and perhaps some day your conscience may accuse you.... I +come to tell you, before leaving, that I forgive you. Now, may you be +happy, and good-bye!”</p> + +<p>Ibarra tried to leave, but the maiden stopped him.</p> + +<p>“Crisostomo!” she said. “God has sent you to save +me from desperation.... Hear me and judge me!”</p> + +<p>Ibarra wished to withdraw gently from her.</p> + +<p>“I have not come,” said he, “to call you to +account.... I have come to give you peace.”</p> + +<p>“I do not want the peace which you give me. I will give myself +peace. You despise me, and your contempt will make my life bitter till +death.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra saw the poor girl’s desperation, and asked her what she +desired.</p> + +<p>“That you may believe that I have always loved you.”</p> + +<p>Crisostomo smiled bitterly.</p> + +<p>“Ah! You doubt me, you doubt the friend of your infancy, who +has never hidden a single thought from you,” exclaimed she in +grief. “I understand you. When you know my history, the history +which they revealed to me during my illness, you will pity me and you +will no longer answer my grief with that bitter smile. Why did you not +let me die in the hands of my ignorant doctor? You and I would have +been happier then.”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara rested a moment and then continued:</p> + +<p>“You have doubted me; you have wished my mother to pardon me. +During one of those nights of suffering, a man revealed to me the name +of my true father, and forbade <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb257" +href="#pb257">257</a>]</span>me to love you ... unless my true father +should pardon you for the offense you committed against him.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra recoiled and looked in terror at the maiden.</p> + +<p>“Yes,” she continued. “This man told me that he +could not permit our marriage, since his conscience would not allow it, +and he would find himself compelled to publish the truth at the risk of +causing a great scandal, because my father is ...”</p> + +<p>And she whispered a name in the young man’s ear in a scarcely +audible voice.</p> + +<p>“What was I to do? Ought I to sacrifice to my love the memory +of my mother, the honor of the man who innocently supposes himself my +father, and the good name of my real father? Could I do that without +you despising me for it?”</p> + +<p>“But the proof? Have you proof? You need proof!” +exclaimed Crisostomo, deeply agitated.</p> + +<p>The maiden drew two letters from her bosom.</p> + +<p>“Two of my mother’s letters: two letters written in +remorse before I was born. Take them, read them and you will see how +she cursed me and desired my death, which my father in vain tried to +cause by drugs. These letters were forgotten in the house where he +lived; a man found them and kept them. They would only give them to me +in exchange for your letter ... to make certain, as they said, that I +would not marry you without the consent of my father. From the time +that I began to carry them in my bosom instead of your letter, my heart +was chilled. I sacrificed you, I sacrificed my love.... What would not +a person do for a dead mother and two living fathers? Did I suspect the +use to which they were going to put your letter?”</p> + +<p>Ibarra was prostrated. Maria Clara went on:</p> + +<p>“What was there left for me? Could I tell you who was my +father? Could I ask you to seek the pardon of him who had so much +desired my death, and who made your father suffer? There was nothing +left for me but to keep the secret to myself, and to die suffering.... +Now, my friend, you know the sad history of your poor Maria. Will you +still have that contemptuous smile for her?”</p> + +<p>“Maria, you are a saint.” <span class="pagenum">[<a id= +"pb258" href="#pb258">258</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“I am happy now that you believe me.”</p> + +<p>“However,” added the young man, changing his tone. +“I have heard that you are about to marry.”</p> + +<p>“Yes,” sobbed the maiden. “My father asked this +sacrifice of me. He has fed me and loved me, and it was not his duty. I +pay him this debt of gratitude which I owe him by assuring him peace +through this new relative, but ...”</p> + +<p>“But?”</p> + +<p>“I shall not forget the oaths of fidelity which I made to +you.”</p> + +<p>“What do you think of doing?” asked Ibarra, trying to +read her eyes.</p> + +<p>“The future is obscure and Destiny is hidden in darkness. I do +not know what I am to do; but I know that I can love only once, and +that without love I never will belong to any one. And you, what is to +become of you?”</p> + +<p>“I am nothing but a fugitive.... I am fleeing. In a very short +time, they will discover my escape, Maria....”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara clasped her arms about her lover’s neck, kissed +his lips repeatedly, hugged him, and then, abruptly breaking away from +him, said:</p> + +<p>“Flee! flee! <i>Adios!</i>”</p> + +<p>Ibarra looked at her, his eyes sparkling, but she motioned and he +went away, staggering like a drunken man. Again he leaped over the wall +and entered the <i>banca</i>. Maria Clara, leaning on the door casing, +watched him depart.</p> + +<p>Elias took off his hat and bowed profoundly. <span class="pagenum"> +[<a id="pb259" href="#pb259">259</a>]</span></p> + +<div class="footnotes"> +<hr class="fnsep"> +<p class="footnote"><span class="label"><a class="noteref" href= +"#n254src" id="n254">1</a></span> Both words mean mistress.</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div id="ch40" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XL.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">The Pursuit on the Lake.</h2> + +<p>“Listen, Señor, to my plan,” said Elias, as they +directed the <i>banca</i> toward San Miguel. “I will for the +present hide you in the house of my friend in Mandaluyong. I will bring +you all your money, which I have saved and kept for you at the foot of +the old <i>balitî</i> tree, in the mysterious tomb of your +grandfather. You shall leave the country.”</p> + +<p>“To go to a strange land?” interrupted Ibarra.</p> + +<p>“To live in peace the remaining days of your life. You have +friends in Spain, you are rich, you can get yourself pardoned. By all +means, a foreign land is better for you than your own +country.”</p> + +<p><span class="corr" id="xd0e7441" title="Source: Crisosotomo"> +Crisostomo</span> did not reply. He meditated in silence.</p> + +<p>Just then they reached the Pasig and the <i>banca</i> was headed up +the stream. Over the Bridge of Spain a horse-man was galloping at high +speed, and a prolonged, sharp whistle was heard.</p> + +<p>“Elias,” replied Ibarra, “you owe your misfortunes +to my family; you have saved my life twice; I owe you not only +gratitude, but also restitution of your fortune. You advise me to go to +a foreign land and live; then come with me and we will live like +brothers. Here, you, too, are miserable.”</p> + +<p>Elias sadly replied:</p> + +<p>“Impossible! It is true that I can neither love nor be happy +in my country; but I can suffer and die in it, and perhaps die for it; +that would be something. Let my country’s misfortune be my own +misfortune. Since no noble thought unites us, and since our hearts do +not beat in harmony at the mention of a single word, at least, let a +common misery unite me to my fellow countrymen; <span class="pagenum"> +[<a id="pb260" href="#pb260">260</a>]</span>at least, let me weep with +them over our grief; let the same misery oppress all our +hearts.”</p> + +<p>“Then why do you advise me to leave?”</p> + +<p>“Because in other lands you can be happy, and I cannot; +because you are not made to suffer, and because you would hate your +country, if some day you should see the cause of your misfortune: and +to hate one’s own country is the greatest misery.”</p> + +<p>“You are unjust to me,” exclaimed Ibarra, with bitter +reproach. “You forget that I have scarcely arrived here, and that +I have already sought its welfare.”</p> + +<p>“Do not be offended, Señor. I am not reproaching you. +Would to God that all might imitate you. But I do not ask for the +impossible and you should not be offended if I tell you that your heart +deceives you. You love your country because your father has taught you +to love it; you love it because you had in it your love, your fortune, +your youth; because it smiled on you, and because it has not until now +done you an injustice. You love your country as we all love that which +makes us happy. But, on that day when you see yourself poor, ragged, +hungry, persecuted, denounced and betrayed by your very countrymen, on +that day you will curse yourself, your country and all.”</p> + +<p>“Your words grieve me,” said Ibarra, resentfully.</p> + +<p>Elias bowed his head, meditated and replied:</p> + +<p>“I wish to set you right, Señor, and to avoid a +miserable future for you. You remember the time when I was talking to +you in this same <i>banca</i> and under the light of the same moon. It +was a month ago, a few days more or less. Then you were happy. The plea +of the unfortunates did not reach you. You disdained their complaints +because they were complaints from criminals. You gave ear to their +enemies, and, in spite of my reasons and pleas, you put yourself on the +side of their oppressors. On you depended at that time whether I should +turn criminal or allow my life to be taken in fulfillment of my sacred +pledge. God has not permitted it, because the old chief of the bandits +has been killed. A month has passed and now you think +differently.”</p> + +<p>“You are right, Elias, but man is influenced by changes <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb261" href="#pb261">261</a>]</span>in +circumstances. Then I was blind, and obstinate. What did I know? Now +misfortune has torn the veil from my eyes. The solitude and misery of +my prison life have taught me; now I see the horrible cancer which is +sapping the life of society, which hangs to its flesh and which +requires violent extirpation. They have opened my eyes; they have made +me see the ulcer; they force me to become a criminal. I will be a <i> +filibustero</i>, but a true <i>filibustero</i>. I will call upon all +the unfortunates, on all who have beating hearts within their breasts, +on all who sent you to me.... No, no! I will not be criminal! It is +never a crime to fight for one’s country! We for three centuries +have given them our hand, we have asked them for their love, we have +anxiously wished to call them our brothers. How have they replied? With +insults and jests, denying us even the quality of being human beings. +There is no God, there is no hope, there is no humanity. There is +nothing but the right of force.”</p> + +<p>Ibarra was excited. His whole body was trembling.</p> + +<p>They passed by the Governor General’s palace, and believed +they saw agitation and movement among the guards.</p> + +<p>“Have they discovered our flight?” murmured Elias. +“Lie down, Señor, so that I can cover you up with the +grass, for, when we cross over to the side of the river near the powder +house, the sentry may be surprised at seeing two of us in this small +<i>banca</i>.”</p> + +<p>As Elias had foreseen, the sentry stopped him and asked him where he +came from.</p> + +<p>“From Manila, with grass for the magistrates and +curates,” replied he, imitating the accent of one from +Pandakan.</p> + +<p>A sergeant came out and was informed what was going on.</p> + +<p>“<i>Sulung!</i>” (Go on!) said he. “I warn you not +to receive any one in your <i>banca</i>. A prisoner has just escaped. +If you capture him and hand him over to me I will give you a good +reward.”</p> + +<p>“All right, Señor. What is his description?”</p> + +<p>“He wears a frock coat and speaks Spanish. With that much, be +on the watch!” <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb262" href= +"#pb262">262</a>]</span></p> + +<p>The <i>banca</i> went on. Elias turned his face and saw the shadow +of the sentry, still standing on the bank of the river.</p> + +<p>“We will lose several minutes,” said he, in a low voice. +“We will have to go up the Beata river in order to carry out my +pretense of being from Peña Francia.”</p> + +<p>The town was sleeping in the light of the moon. Crisostomo arose to +admire the sepulchral peace of Nature. The river was narrow and its +banks formed a plain planted with rice.</p> + +<p>Elias threw the load on the bank, picked up a piece of bamboo and +drew out from under the grass in the <i>banca</i> some empty sacks. +They went on rowing.</p> + +<p>“You are master of your own will, Señor, and of your +own future,” said he to Crisostomo, who kept silent. “But +if you will permit me to offer a suggestion, I say to you: Look well at +what you are going to do. You are about to start a war, for you have +money, talent, and you will quickly find aid, for, unfortunately, many +are discontented. Furthermore, in this fight, which you are to begin, +those who are going to suffer most are the defenseless, the innocent. +The same sentiments which a month ago prompted me to come to you and +ask for reforms, are those which now move me to ask you to reflect. The +country, Señor, is not thinking of separating itself from the +mother country. It asks only a little liberty, a little justice, a +little love. The discontented will assist you, the criminals and the +desperate, but the people will hold aloof. You are mistaken if, seeing +everything dark, you believe that the country is desperate. The country +suffers, yes, but it still hopes, believe me, and will only rise in +revolt when it has lost patience; that is, when those who govern wish +it—which is still far off. I myself would not follow you. I shall +never take recourse to these extreme remedies while I see hope in +men.”</p> + +<p>“Then I will go without you!” replied Crisostomo, +resolutely.</p> + +<p>“Is it your firm decision?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, my firm and only decision: I call to witness the memory +of my father! I cannot allow them to deprive <span class="pagenum">[<a +id="pb263" href="#pb263">263</a>]</span>me of peace and happiness with +impunity, I who have desired only my country’s welfare, I who +have respected all and have suffered on account of a hypocritical +religion, on account of love for my country. How have they responded to +me? By burying me in an infamous prison and by prostituting my +fiancée. No, not to avenge myself would be a crime. It would be +encouraging them to commit new injustices. No! it would be cowardice, +it would be pusillanimity to weep and groan while there is life and +vigor, when to insult and challenge are added scoffery and contemptuous +ridicule! I will arouse this ignorant people, I will make them see +their misery—this people who do not think of each other as +brothers, who are mere wolves devouring each other. I will tell them to +rise against this oppression and appeal to the eternal right of mankind +to conquer their liberty!”</p> + +<p>“Innocent people will suffer.”</p> + +<p>“All the better! Can you lead me to the mountain?”</p> + +<p>“Till you are safe!” replied Elias.</p> + +<p>They again went up the Pasig. They spoke from time to time of +indifferent things.</p> + +<p>“Santa Aña!” murmured Ibarra. “Do you +recognize that house?”</p> + +<p>They passed by the country house of the Jesuits.</p> + +<p>“There I passed many happy and joyful years!” sighed +Elias. “In my time we used to come here every month ... then I +was like the others. I had fortune, family; I was dreaming and planning +a future for myself. In those days I used to visit my sister in the +neighboring convent. She made me a present of a piece of her own +handiwork. A girl friend used to accompany her, a beautiful girl. All +has passed like a dream.”</p> + +<p>They remained silent till they arrived at Malapad-na-bató. +Those who have glided over the bosom of the Pasig on one of those +magical nights when the moon pours forth its melancholy poetry from the +pure blue of the sky, when the darkness hides the misery of men and +silence drowns the harsh accents of their voices, when Nature alone +speaks—those who have seen such nights on the Pasig will +understand the feelings which filled the hearts of both young men. +<span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb264" href="#pb264">264</a>]</span></p> + +<p>In Malapad-na-bató the carbineer was half asleep, and, seeing +that the <i>banca</i> was empty and offered no booty for him to seize, +according to the traditional custom of his corps and the use made of +that position, he readily let them pass on.</p> + +<p>Nor did the Civil Guard at Pasig suspect anything, and they were not +molested.</p> + +<p>It was just beginning to dawn when they reached the lake, calm and +smooth as a gigantic mirror. The moon was growing dim and the Orient +was rosy with the tints of morning. At a distance, a mass of grey could +be discerned advancing toward the <i>banca</i>.</p> + +<p>“The <i>falúa</i> (or Government steamboat) is +coming,” murmured Elias. “Lie down and I will cover you +with these sacks.”</p> + +<p>The outline of the vessel became more clear and perceptible.</p> + +<p>“She is putting in between the beach and us,” observed +Elias uneasily.</p> + +<p>And then he changed the course of the <i>banca</i> a little, rowing +toward Binangonan. To his great surprise he noticed that the <i> +falúa</i> was also changing its course, while a voice cried out +to him.</p> + +<p>Elias stopped and meditated. The shore of the lake was very far off, +and they would soon be in the range of the rifles on the <i> +falúa</i>. He thought of returning to the Pasig. His <i> +banca</i> was swifter than the <i>falúa</i>. But fate was +against him! Another boat was coming up the Pasig, and they could see +the helmets and shining bayonets of the Civil Guards.</p> + +<p>“We are caught!” he murmured, turning pale.</p> + +<p>He looked at his robust arms and taking the only course which +remained to him, he began to row with all his strength toward the +Island of Talim. In the meantime, the sun had risen.</p> + +<p>The <i>banca</i> glided along rapidly. Elias saw some men standing +up on the <i>falúa</i>, making signals to him.</p> + +<p>“Do you know how to manage a <i>banca</i>?” he asked +Ibarra.</p> + +<p>“Yes; why?”</p> + +<p>“Because we are lost if I do not leap into the water <span +class="pagenum">[<a id="pb265" href="#pb265">265</a>]</span>and make +them lose the trail. They will follow me. I swim and dive well.... I +will take them away from you, and then you can save +yourself.”</p> + +<p>“No; you remain and we will sell our lives dearly.”</p> + +<p>“Useless! We have no arms, and with those rifles they will +kill us like birds.”</p> + +<p>At that moment a <i>chiss</i> was heard in the water like the fall +of a hot body, and was followed immediately by a report.</p> + +<p>“Do you see?” said Elias, putting his paddle in the <i> +banca</i>. “We will see each other again at the tomb of your +grandfather on <i>Nochebeuna</i> (Christmas eve.) Save +yourself.”</p> + +<p>“And you?”</p> + +<p>“God has taken me through greater dangers.”</p> + +<p>Elias took off his <i>camisa</i>. A ball grazed his hands and the +report sounded out. Without being disturbed, he stretched out his hand +to Ibarra, who was still in the bottom of the boat. Then he arose and +leaped into the water, pushing away the small craft with his foot.</p> + +<p>A number of cries were heard. Soon at some distance the head of the +young man appeared above the water as if to get breath, dropping out of +sight at the next instant.</p> + +<p>“There, there he is!” cried a number of voices, and the +balls from their rifles whistled again.</p> + +<p>The <i>falúa</i> and the other <i>banca</i> took up the +chase. A light track of foam marked his course, every moment leading +farther and farther away from Ibarra’s <i>banca</i>, which +drifted along as if abandoned. Every time that the swimmer raised his +head to breathe the Civil Guards and the men on board the <i> +falúa</i> discharged their guns at him.</p> + +<p>The pursuit continued. Ibarra’s little <i>banca</i> was +already far off. The swimmer was approaching the shore of the lake and +was now some fifty yards distant from it. The rowers were already +tired, but Elias was not, for his head often appeared above the water +and each time in a different direction so as to disconcert his +pursuers. No longer was there a light trail to betray the course of the +diver. For the last time they saw him near the shore, <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb266" href="#pb266">266</a>]</span>some ten yards +off, and they opened fire.... Then minutes and minutes passed. Nothing +appeared again on the tranquil surface of the lake.</p> + +<p>Half an hour afterward one of the rowers pretended to have +discovered signs of blood in the water near the shore, but his +companions shook their heads in a manner which might mean either yes or +no. <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb267" href= +"#pb267">267</a>]</span></p> +</div> + +<div id="ch41" class="div1"><span class="pagenum"> [<a href= +"#toc">Contents</a>]</span> + +<h2 class="label">Chapter XLI.</h2> + +<h2 class="normal">Father Dámaso Explains.</h2> + +<p>In vain the costly wedding gifts were heaped upon the table. Neither +the diamonds in their blue velvet caskets, nor the embroidered <i> +piña</i>, nor the pieces of silk had any attractions for Maria +Clara. The maiden looked at the paper which gave the account of +Ibarra’s death, drowned in the lake, but she neither saw nor read +it.</p> + +<p>Of a sudden, she felt two hands over her eyes. They held her fast +while a joyous voice, Father Dámaso’s, said to her:</p> + +<p>“Who am I? Who am I?”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara jumped from her seat and looked at him with terror in +her eyes.</p> + +<p>“You little goose, were you frightened, eh? You were not +expecting me? Well, I have come from the provinces to attend your +wedding.”</p> + +<p>And coming up to her again with a smile of satisfaction, he +stretched out his hand to her. Maria Clara approached timidly and, +raising it to her lips, kissed it.</p> + +<p>“What is the matter with you, Maria?” asked the +Franciscan, losing his gay smile, and becoming very uneasy. “Your +hand is cold, you are pale.... Are you ill, my little girl?”</p> + +<p>And Father Dámaso drew her up to him with a fondness of which +no one would have thought him capable. He grasped both the +maiden’s hands and gave her a questioning look.</p> + +<p>“Haven’t you any confidence in your godfather?” he +asked in a reproachful tone. “Come, sit down here and tell me +your little troubles, just as you used to do when you were a child, +when you wanted wax-candles to make wax figures. You surely know that I +have always loved you.... I have never scolded you....”</p> + +<p>Father Dámaso’s voice ceased to be brusque; its +modulations <span class="pagenum">[<a id="pb268" href= +"#pb268">268</a>]</span>were even caressing. Maria Clara began to +weep.</p> + +<p>“Are you weeping, my child? Why are you weeping? Have you +quarrelled with Linares?”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara covered her eyes with her hands.</p> + +<p>“No! It is not he now!” cried the maiden.</p> + +<p>Father Dámaso looked at her full of surprise.</p> + +<p>“Do you not want to entrust your secrets to me? Have I not +always managed to satisfy your smallest caprices?”</p> + +<p>The young woman raised her eyes full of tears toward him. She looked +at him for some time, and then began to weep bitterly.</p> + +<p>“Do not cry so, my child, for your tears pain me! Tell me your +troubles. You will see how your godfather loves you.”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara approached him slowly and fell on her knees at his feet. +Then raising her face, bathed in tears, she said to him in a low voice, +scarcely audible:</p> + +<p>“Do you still love me?”</p> + +<p>“Child!”</p> + +<p>“Then ... protect my father, and break off the +marriage!”</p> + +<p>Then she related her last interview with Ibarra, omitting the +reference to her birth.</p> + +<p>Father Dámaso could scarcely believe what he heard.</p> + +<p>“While he lived,” continued the maiden, “I +intended to fight, to wait, to trust. I wanted to live to hear him +spoken of ... but now that they have killed him, now there is no reason +for my living and suffering.”</p> + +<p>She said this slowly, in a low voice, calmly and without a tear.</p> + +<p>“But, you goose; isn’t Linares a thousand times better +than....?”</p> + +<p>“When he was living, I could have married ... I was thinking +of fleeing afterward ... my father wanted nothing more than the +relative. Now that he is dead, no other man will call me his wife.... +While he lived, I could have debased myself and still had the +consolation of knowing that he existed and perhaps was thinking of me. +Now that he is dead ... the convent or the tomb.”</p> + +<p>Her voice had a firmness in its accent which took away Father +Dámaso’s joy and set him to thinking. <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb269" href="#pb269">269</a>]</span></p> + +<p>“Did you love him so much as that?” he asked, +stammering.</p> + +<p>Maria Clara did not reply. Father Dámaso bowed his head upon +his breast and remained silent.</p> + +<p>“My child!” he exclaimed, his voice breaking. +“Forgive me for making you unhappy without knowing it. I was +thinking of your future; I wanted you to be happy. How could I permit +you to marry a native; how could I see you an unhappy wife and a +miserable mother? I could not get your love out of your head, and I +opposed it with all my strength. All that I have done has been for you, +for you alone. If you had become his wife, you would have wept +afterward on account of the condition of your husband, exposed to all +kinds of vengeance, without any means of defense. As a mother, you +would have wept over the fortune of your sons; if you educated them, +you would prepare a sad future for them, you would have made them +enemies of the Church and would have seen them hanged or exiled; if you +left them ignorant, you would have seen them oppressed and degraded. I +could not consent to it! This is why I sought as a husband for you one +who might make you the happy mother of sons born not to obey but to +command, not to suffer but to punish. I knew that your friend was good +from infancy. I liked him as I had liked his father, but I hated them +both when I saw that they were going to make you unhappy, because I +love you, I idolize you, I love you as my daughter. I have nothing +dearer than you. I have seen you grow. No hour passes but I think of +you; I dream of you; you are my only joy.”</p> + +<p>And Father Dámaso began to weep like a child.</p> + +<p>“Well, then, if you love me do not make me eternally unhappy. +He no longer lives; I want to be a nun.”</p> + +<p>The old man rested his head on his hand.</p> + +<p>“To be a nun, to be a nun!” he repeated. “You do +not know, my child, the life, the misery, which is hidden behind the +walls of the convent. You do not know it! I prefer a thousand times to +see you unhappy in the world than to see you unhappy in the cloister. +Here your complaints can be heard, there you will have only the walls. +You are beautiful, very beautiful, and you were not born <span class= +"pagenum">[<a id="pb270" href="#pb270">270</a>]</span>for it, you were +not born to be the bride of Christ! Believe me, my child, time will +blot it all out. Later you will forget, you will love your husband ... +Linares.”</p> + +<p>“Either the convent or ... death!” repeated Maria +Clara.</p> + +<p>“The convent, the convent or death!” exclaimed Father +Dámaso. “Maria, I am already old, I will not be able to +watch you or your happiness much longer.... Choose another course, seek +another love, another young man, whoever he may be, but not the +convent.”</p> + +<p>“The convent or death!”</p> + +<p>“My God, my God!” cried the priest, covering his head +with his hands. “Thou punisheth me. So be it! But watch over my +child.”</p> + +<p>And turning to the young woman: “You want to be a nun? You +shall be one. I do not want you to die.”</p> + +<p>Maria Clara took his two hands, clasped them in her own and kissed +them as she knelt.</p> + +<p>“Godfather, my godfather!” she repeated.</p> + +<p>Immediately, Father Dámaso went out, sad, with drooping head +and sighing.</p> + +<p>“God, O God! Thou existeth, for Thou punisheth. But avenge +Thyself on me and do not harm the innocent. Save my child!”</p> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="back"> +<div class="transcribernote"> +<h2>Colophon</h2> + +<h3>Availability</h3> + +<p>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 <a class="exlink" title="External link" +href="https://www.gutenberg.org/">www.gutenberg.org</a>.</p> + +<p>This eBook is produced by Jeroen Hellingman and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at <a class="exlink" title="External +link" href="https://www.pgdp.net/">www.pgdp.net</a>.</p> + +<p>This eBook was prepared from the scans of a copy from the University +of California Lbrary made available on <a class="exlink" title= +"External link" href= +"http://www.archive.org/details/friarsfilipinos00rizarich">The Internet +Archive</a>. The same set of scans is also available from <a class= +"exlink" title="External link" href= +"http://books.google.com/books?id=FEdFAAAAIAAJ">Google Print</a>. +Unfortunately, the last page, with the epilogue, is missing from this +copy.</p> + +<p>Numerous translations of José Rizal’s <i>Noli me +Tangere</i> work have been made. Available at Project Gutenberg are the +unabridged translation by Charles E. Derbyshire, under the title <i><a +class="pglink" title="Link to Project Gutenberg ebook" href= +"https://www.gutenberg.org/etext/6737">The Social Cancer</a></i>, +published in 1912; Another abbreviated translation under the title <i> +<a class="pglink" title="Link to Project Gutenberg ebook" href= +"https://www.gutenberg.org/etext/27594">An Eagle Flight</a></i>, +published in 1901; a French translation by Henri Lucas and Ramon Sempau +under the title <i lang="fr"><a class="pglink" title="Link to Project +Gutenberg ebook" href="https://www.gutenberg.org/etext/30211">Au Pays +des Moines</a></i>, published in 1898; A Tagalog translation under the +title <i><a class="pglink" title="Link to Project Gutenberg ebook" +href="https://www.gutenberg.org/etext/20228">Noli me Tangere</a></i> +published in 1906; finally a Dutch translation by A. A. Fokker, under +the title <i lang="nl"><a class="pglink" title="Link to Project +Gutenberg ebook" href="https://www.gutenberg.org/etext/21848">Noli me +tangere: Filippijnsche roman</a></i>, published in Surabaya in +1912.</p> + +<p>Further translations have been made in all the major Philippine +languages, at least four more in English, and in German, Italian, +Japanese, Chinese, and Thai.</p> + +<h3>Encoding</h3> + +<h3>Revision History</h3> + +<ol class="lsoff"> +<li>2009-10-15 Started.</li> +</ol> + +<h3>External References</h3> + +<p>This Project Gutenberg eBook contains external references. These +links may not work for you.</p> + +<h3>Corrections</h3> + +<p>The following corrections have been applied to the text:</p> + +<table width="75%" summary="Overview of corrections applied to the +text."> +<tr> +<th>Page</th> +<th>Source</th> +<th>Correction</th> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e880">16</a></td> +<td width="40%">venders</td> +<td width="40%">vendors</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1173">36</a></td> +<td width="40%">Siblya</td> +<td width="40%">Sibyla</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1527">52</a></td> +<td width="40%">.</td> +<td width="40%">?</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1564">54</a></td> +<td width="40%">sacristian</td> +<td width="40%">sacristan</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e1567">54</a></td> +<td width="40%">commiting</td> +<td width="40%">committing</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2621">100</a></td> +<td width="40%">Tagalo</td> +<td width="40%">Tagalog</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e2669">102</a></td> +<td width="40%">[<i>Not in source</i>]</td> +<td width="40%">’</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3319">127</a></td> +<td width="40%">sacristry</td> +<td width="40%">sacristy</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3481">133</a></td> +<td width="40%">a</td> +<td width="40%">[<i>Deleted</i>]</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3491">133</a></td> +<td width="40%">lashs</td> +<td width="40%">lashes</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3620">137</a></td> +<td width="40%">,</td> +<td width="40%">[<i>Deleted</i>]</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e3945">148</a></td> +<td width="40%">Tunason</td> +<td width="40%">Tunasan</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4099">156</a></td> +<td width="40%">huband</td> +<td width="40%">husband</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4380">165</a></td> +<td width="40%">aproaching</td> +<td width="40%">approaching</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4500">172</a></td> +<td width="40%">venders</td> +<td width="40%">vendors</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4555">174</a></td> +<td width="40%">’</td> +<td width="40%">”</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4657">176</a></td> +<td width="40%">exchange</td> +<td width="40%">exchanged</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e4893">181</a></td> +<td width="40%">“</td> +<td width="40%">[<i>Deleted</i>]</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5092">185</a></td> +<td width="40%">physiogomy</td> +<td width="40%">physiognomy</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5376">197</a></td> +<td width="40%">detroyed</td> +<td width="40%">destroyed</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5395">198</a></td> +<td width="40%">ino</td> +<td width="40%">into</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5454">203</a></td> +<td width="40%">unincumbered</td> +<td width="40%">unencumbered</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e5865">215</a></td> +<td width="40%">Tagalo</td> +<td width="40%">Tagalog</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e6545">234</a></td> +<td width="40%">sacristry</td> +<td width="40%">sacristy</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e7115">249</a></td> +<td width="40%">Linars</td> +<td width="40%">Linares</td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td width="20%"><a class="pageref" href="#xd0e7441">259</a></td> +<td width="40%">Crisosotomo</td> +<td width="40%">Crisostomo</td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +</div> + + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30278 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/30278-h/images/book.png b/30278-h/images/book.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..963d165 --- /dev/null +++ b/30278-h/images/book.png diff --git a/30278-h/images/external.png b/30278-h/images/external.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ba4f205 --- /dev/null +++ b/30278-h/images/external.png |
