Elias coldly. "Like a condemned criminal, he fled across mountains
and valleys. When he thought himself far enough away to have lost
his identity, he found work with a rich man of the province of
Tayabas. His industry and the sweetness of his disposition gained
him favor. Here he stayed, economized, got a little capital, and as
he was yet young, thought to be happy. He won the love of a girl of
the pueblo, but delayed asking for her hand, fearing that his past
might be uncovered. At length, when love's indiscretion bore fruit,
to save her reputation he was obliged to risk everything. He asked to
marry her, his papers were demanded, and the truth was learned. As
the father was rich, he instituted a prosecution. The unhappy young
man made no defence, and was sent to the garrison.
"Our mother bore twins, my sister and me. She died while we were
yet young, and we were told that our father was dead also. As our
grandfather was rich, we had a happy childhood; we were always
together, and loved each other as only twins can. I was sent very
early to the college of the Jesuits, and my sister to La Concordia,
that we might not be completely separated. In time we returned to
take possession of our grandfather's property. We had many servants
and rich fields. We were both happy, and my sister was affianced to
a man she adored.
"By my haughtiness, perhaps, and for pecuniary reasons, I had won the
dislike of a distant relative. He threw in my face the obscurity of our
origin and the dishonor of our race. Believing it calumny, I demanded
satisfaction; the tomb where so many miseries sleep was opened, and
the truth came forth to confound me. To crown all, there had been
with us many years an old servant, who had suffered all my caprices
without complaint. I do not know how our relative found it out, but he
brought the old man before the court and made him declare the truth:
he was our father. Our happiness was ended. I gave up my inheritance,
my sister lost her fiance, and with our father we left the pueblo,
to live where he might. The thought of the unhappiness he had brought
upon us shortened our father's days, and my sister and I were left
alone. She could not forget her lover, and little by little I saw
her droop. One day she disappeared, and I searched everywhere for
her in vain. Six months afterward, I learned that at the time I lost
her there had been found on the lake shore of Calamba the body of a
young woman drowned or assassinated. A knife, they said, was buried
in her breast. From what they told me of her dress and her beauty,
I recognized my sister. Since then I have wandered from province to
province, my reputation and my story following in time. Many things
are attributed to me, often unjustly, but I continue my way and take
little account of men. You have my story, and that of one of the
judgments of our brothers!"
Elias rowed on in a silence which was for some time unbroken.
"I believe you are not wrong when you say that justice should interest
herself in the education of criminals," said Crisostomo at length;
"but it is impossible, it is Utopia; where get the money necessary
to create so many new offices?"
"Why not use the priests, who vaunt their mission of peace and
love? Can it be more meritorious to sprinkle a child's head with water
than to wake, in the darkened conscience of a criminal, that spark
lighted by God in every soul to guide it in the search for truth? Can
it be more humane to accompany a condemned man to the gallows than
to help him in the hard path that leads from vice to virtue? And the
spies, the executioners, the guards, do not they too cost money?"
"My friend, if I believed all this, what could I do?"
"Alone, nothing; but if the people sustained you?"
"I shall never be the one to lead the people when they try to obtain
by force what the Government does not think it time to give them. If I
should see the people armed, I should range myself on the side of the
Government. I do not recognize my country in a mob. I desire her good;
that is why I build a school. I seek this good through instruction;
without light there is no route."
"Without struggle, no liberty; without liberty, no light. You say you
know your country little. I believe you. You do not see the conflict
coming, the cloud on the horizon: the struggle begun in the sphere
of the mind is going to descend to the arena of blood. Listen to the
voice of God; woe to those who resist it! History shall not be theirs!"
Elias was transfigured. He stood uncovered, his manly face illumined by
the white light of the moon. He shook his mane of hair and continued:
"Do you not see how everything is waking? The sleep has lasted
centuries, but some day the lightning will strike, and the bolt,
instead of bringing ruin, will bring life. Do you not see minds in
travail with new tendencies, and know that these tendencies, diverse
now, will some day be guided by God into one way? God has not failed
other peoples; He will not fail us!"
The words were followed by solemn silence. The boat, drawn on by the
waves, was nearing the bank. Elias was the first to speak.
"What shall I say to those who sent me?"
"That they must wait. I pity their situation, but progress is slow,
and there is always much of our own fault in our misfortunes."
Elias said no more. He lowered his eyes and continued to row. When
the boat touched the shore, he took leave of Ibarra.
"I thank you, senor," he said, "for your kindness to me, and, in your
own interest, I ask you to forget me from this day."
When Ibarra was gone, Elias guided his boat toward a clump of reeds
along the shore. His attention seemed absorbed in the thousands of
diamonds that rose with the oar, and fell back and disappeared in
the mystery of the gentle azure waves. When he touched land, a man
came out from among the reeds.
"What shall I say to the captain?" he asked.
"Tell him Elias, if he lives, will keep his word," replied the
helmsman sadly.
"And when will you join us?"
"When your captain thinks the hour has come."
"That is well; adieu!"
"If I live!" repeated Elias, under his breath.
XLIII.
IL BUON DI SI CONOSCE DA MATTINA.
While Ibarra and Elias were on the lake, old Tasio, ill in his
solitary little house, and Don Filipo, who had come to see him, were
also talking of the country. For several days the old philosopher, or
fool--as you find him--prostrated by a rapidly increasing feebleness,
had not left his bed.
"The country," he was saying to Don Filipo, "isn't what it was twenty
years ago."
"Do you think so?"
"Don't you see it?" asked the old man, sitting up. "Ah! you did not
know the past. Hear the students of to-day talking. New names are
spoken under the arches that once heard only those of Saint Thomas,
Suarez, Amat, and the other idols of my day. In vain the monks cry
from the chair against the demoralization of the times; in vain the
convents extend their ramifications to strangle the new ideas. The
roots of a tree may influence the parasites growing on it, but they
are powerless against the bird, which, from the branches, mounts
triumphant toward the sky!"
The old man spoke with animation, and his eye shone.
"And yet the new germ is very feeble," said the lieutenant. "If they
all set about it, the progress already so dearly paid for may yet
be choked."
"Choke it? Who? The weak dwarf, man, to choke progress, the powerful
child of time and energy? When has he done that? He has tried dogma,
the scaffold, and the stake, but E pur si muove is the device of
progress. Wills are thwarted, individuals sacrificed. What does
that mean to progress? She goes her way, and the blood of those who
fall enriches the soil whence spring her new shoots. The Dominicans
themselves do not escape this law, and they are beginning to imitate
the Jesuits, their irreconcilable enemies."
"Do you hold that the Jesuits move with progress?" asked the astonished
Don Filipo. "Then why are they so attacked in Europe?"
"I reply as did once an ecclesiastic of old," said the philosopher,
laying his head back on the pillow and putting on his mocking air,
"that there are three ways of moving with progress: ahead, beside,
behind; the first guide, the second follow, the third are dragged. The
Jesuits are of these last. At present, in the Philippines, we are
about three centuries behind the van of the general movement. The
Jesuits, who in Europe are the reaction, viewed from here represent
progress. For instance, the Philippines owe to them the introduction
of the natural sciences, the soul of the nineteenth century. As for
ourselves, at this moment we are entering a period of strife: strife
between the past which grapples to itself the tumbling feudal castle,
and the future whose song may be heard afar off, bringing us from
distant lands the tidings of good news."
The old man stopped, but seeing the expression of Don Filipo he smiled
and went on.
"I can almost divine what you are thinking."
"Can you?"
"You are thinking that I may easily be wrong; to-day I have the fever,
and I am never infallible. But it is permitted us to dream. Why not
make the dreams agreeable in the last hours of life? You are right:
I do dream! Our young men think of nothing but loves and pleasures;
our men of riper years have no activity but in vice, serve only to
corrupt youth with their example; youth spends its best years without
ideal, and childhood wakes to life in rust and darkness. It is well
to die. Claudite jam rivos, pueri."
"Is it time for your medicine?" asked Don Filipo, seeing the cloud
on the old man's face.
"The parting have no need of medicine, but those who stay. In a few
days I shall be gone. The Philippines are in the shadows."
XLIV.
LA GALLERA.
To keep holy the afternoon of Sunday in Spain, one goes ordinarily to
the plaza de toros; in the Philippines, to the gallera. Cock-fights,
introduced in the country about a century ago, are to-day one of the
vices of the people. The Chinese can more easily deprive themselves
of opium than the Filipinos of this bloody sport.
The poor, wishing to get money without work, risks here the little
he has; the rich seeks a distraction at the price of whatever loose
coin feasts and masses leave him. The education of their cocks costs
both much pains, often more than that of their sons.
Since the Government permits and almost recommends it, let us take
our part in the sport, sure of meeting friends.
The gallera of San Diego, like most others, is divided into three
courts. In the entry is taken the sa pintu, that is, the price of
admission. Of this price the Government has a share, and its revenues
from this source are some hundred thousand pesos a year. It is said
this license fee of vice serves to build schools, open roads, span
rivers, and establish prizes for the encouragement of industry. Blessed
be vice when it produces so happy results! In this entry are found
girls selling buyo, cigars, and cakes. Here gather numerous children,
brought by their fathers or uncles, whose duty it is to initiate them
into the ways of life.
In the second court are most of the cocks. Here the contracts are made,
amid recriminations, oaths, and peals of laughter. One caresses his
cock, while another counts the scales on the feet of his, and extends
the wings. See this fellow, rage in his face and heart, carrying by
the legs his cock, deplumed and dead. The animal which for months has
been tended night and day, on which such brilliant hopes were built,
will bring a peseta and make a stew. Sic transit gloria mundi! The
ruined man goes home to his anxious wife and ragged children. He has
lost at once his cock and the price of his industry. Here the least
intelligent discuss the sport; those least given to thought extend the
wings of cocks, feel their muscles, weigh, and ponder. Some are dressed
in elegance, followed and surrounded by the partisans of their cocks;
others, ragged and dirty, the stigma of vice on their blighted faces,
follow anxiously the movements of the rich; the purse may get empty,
the passion remains. Here not a face that is not animated; in this the
Filipino is not indolent, nor apathetic, nor silent; all is movement,
passion. One would say they were all devoured by a thirst always more
and more excited by muddy water.
From this court one passes to the pit, a circle with seats terraced to
the roof, filled during the combats with a mass of men and children;
scarcely ever does a woman risk herself so far. Here it is that
destiny distributes smiles and tears, hunger and joyous feasts.
Entering, we recognize at once the gobernadorcillo, Captain Basilio,
and Jose, the man with the scar, so cast down by the death of his
brother. And here comes Captain Tiago, dressed like the sporting man,
in a canton flannel shirt, woollen trousers, and a jipijapa hat. He
is followed by two servants with his cocks. A combat is soon arranged
between one of these and a famous cock of Captain Basilio's. The
news spreads, and a crowd gathers round, examining, considering,
forecasting, betting.
While men were searching their pockets for their last cuarto, or in
lieu of it were engaging their word, promising to sell the carabao,
the next crop, and so forth, two young fellows, brothers apparently,
looked on with envious eyes. Jose watched them by stealth, smiling
evilly. Then making the pesos sound in his pocket, he passed the
brothers, looking the other way and crying:
"I pay fifty; fifty against twenty for the lasak!"
The brothers looked at each other discontentedly.
"I told you not to risk all the money," said the elder. "If you had
listened to me----"
The younger approached Jose and timidly touched his arm.
"What! It's you?" he cried, turning and feigning surprise. "Does your
brother accept my proposition?"
"He won't do it. But if you would lend us something, as you say you
know us----"
Jose shook his head, shifted his position, and replied:
"Yes, I know you; you are Tarsilo and Bruno; and I know that your
valiant father died from the club strokes of these soldiers. I know
you don't think of vengeance----"
"Don't concern yourself with our history," said the elder brother,
joining them; "that brings misfortune. If we hadn't a sister, we
should have been hanged long ago!"
"Hanged! Only cowards are hanged. Besides, the mountain isn't so far."
"A hundred against fifty for the bulik!" cried some one passing.
"Loan us four pesos--three--two," begged Bruno. Jose again shook
his head.
"Sh! the money isn't mine. Don Crisostomo gave it to me for those who
are willing to serve him. But I see you are not like your father;
he was courageous. The man who is not must not expect to divert
himself." And he moved away.
"See!" said Bruno, "he's talking with Pedro; he's giving him a lot
of money!" And in truth Jose was counting silver pieces into the palm
of Sisa's husband.
Tarsilo was moody and thoughtful; with his shirt sleeve he wiped the
sweat from his forehead.
"Brother," said Bruno, "I'm going, if you don't; our father must
be avenged!"
"Wait," said Tarsilo, gazing into his eyes--they were both pale--"I'm
going with you. You are right: our father must be avenged!" But he
did not move, and again wiped his brow.
"What are you waiting for?" demanded Bruno impatiently.
"Don't you think--our poor sister----"
"Bah! Isn't Don Crisostomo the chief, and haven't we seen him with
the governor-general? What risk do we run?"
"And if we die?"
"Did not our poor father die under their clubs?"
"You are right!"
The brothers set out to find Jose, but hesitation again possessed
Tarsilo.
"No; come away! we're going to ruin ourselves!" he cried.
"Go on if you want to. I shall accept!"
"Bruno!"
Unhappily a man came up and asked:
"Are you betting? I'm for the lasak."
"How much?" demanded Bruno.
The man counted his pieces.
"I have two hundred; fifty against forty!"
"No!" said Bruno resolutely.
"Good! Fifty against thirty!"
"Double it if you will."
"A hundred against sixty, then!"
"Agreed! Wait while I go for the money," and turning to his brother
he said:
"Go away if you want to; I shall stay!"
Tarsilo reflected. He loved Bruno, and he loved sport.
"I am with you," he said. They found Jose.
"Uncle," said Tarsilo, "how much will you give?" "I've told you
already; if you will promise to find others to help surprise
the quarters, I'll give you thirty pesos each, and ten to each
companion. If all goes well, they will each receive a hundred, and
you double. Don Crisostomo is rich!"
"Agreed!" cried Bruno; "give us the money!"
"I knew you were like your father! Come this way, so that those who
killed him cannot hear us," said Jose. And drawing them into a corner,
he added as he counted out the money:
"Don Crisostomo has come and brought the arms. To-morrow night at
eight o'clock meet me in the cemetery. I will give you the final
word. Go find your companions." And he left them.
The brothers appeared to have exchanged roles. Tarsilo now seemed
undisturbed; Bruno was pale. They went back to the crowd, which was
leaving the circle for the raised seats. Little by little the place
became silent. Only the soltadores were left in the ring holding two
cocks, with exaggerated care, looking out for wounds. The silence
became solemn; the spectators became mere caricatures of men; the
fight was about to begin.
XLV.
A CALL.
Two days later Brother Salvi presented himself at the house of
Captain Tiago. The Franciscan was more gaunt and pale than usual;
but as he went up the steps a strange light shone in his eyes, and
his lips parted in a strange smile. Captain Tiago kissed his hand,
and took his hat and cane, smiling beatifically.
"I bring good news," said the curate as he entered the drawing-room;
"good news for everybody. I have letters from Manila confirming
the one Senor Ibarra brought me, so that I believe, Don Santiago,
the obstacle is quite removed."
Maria Clara, seated at the piano, made a movement to rise, but her
strength failed her and she had to sit down again. Linares grew pale;
Captain Tiago lowered his eyes.
"The young man seems to me very sympathetic," said the curate. "At
first I misjudged him. He is impulsive, but when he commits a fault,
he knows so well how to atone for it that one is forced to forgive
him. If it were not for Father Damaso----" And the curate flashed a
glance at Maria Clara. She was listening with all her being, but did
not take her eyes off her music, in spite of the pinches that were
expressing Sinang's joy. Had they been alone they would have danced.
"But Father Damaso has said," continued the curate, without losing
sight of Maria Clara, "that as godfather he could not permit; but,
indeed, I believe if Senor Ibarra will ask his pardon everything will
arrange itself."
Maria rose, made an excuse, and with Victorina left the room.
"And if Father Damaso does not pardon him?" asked Don Santiago in a
low voice.
"Then Maria Clara must decide. But I believe the matter can be
arranged."
The sound of an arrival was heard, and Ibarra entered. His coming made
a strange impression. Captain Tiago did not know whether to smile or
weep. Father Salvi rose and offered his hand so affectionately that
Crisostomo could scarcely repress a look of surprise.
"Where have you been all day?" demanded wicked Sinang. "We asked
each other: 'What can have taken that soul newly rescued from
perdition?' and each of us had her opinion."
"And am I to know what each opinion was?"
"No, not yet! Tell me where you went, so I can see who made the
best guess."
"That's a secret too; but I can tell you by yourself if these gentlemen
will permit."
"Certainly, certainly?" said Father Salvi. Sinang drew Crisostomo to
the other end of the great room.
"Tell me, little friend," said he, "is Maria angry with me?"
"I don't know. She says you had best forget her, and then she
cries. This morning when we were wondering where you were I said to
tease her: 'Perhaps he has gone a-courting.' But she was quite grave,
and said: 'It is God's will!'"
"Tell Maria I must see her alone," said Ibarra, troubled.
"It will be difficult, but I'll try to manage it."
"And when shall I know?"
"To-morrow. But you are going without telling me the secret!"
"So I am. Well, I went to the pueblo of Los Banos to see about some
cocoanut trees!"
"What a secret!" cried Sinang aloud in a tone of a usurer despoiled.
"Take care, I really don't want you to speak of it."
"I've no desire to," said Sinang scornfully. "If it had been really
of importance I should have told my friends; but cocoanuts, cocoanuts,
who cares about cocoanuts!" and she ran off to find Maria.
Conversation languished, and Ibarra soon took his leave. Captain Tiago
was torn between the bitter and the sweet. Linares said nothing. Only
the curate affected gayety and recounted tales.
XLVI.
A CONSPIRACY.
The bell was announcing the time of prayer the evening after. At its
sound every one stopped his work and uncovered. The laborer coming from
the fields checked his song; the woman in the streets crossed herself;
the man caressed his cock and said the Angelus, that chance might favor
him. And yet the curate, to the great scandal of pious old ladies,
was running through the street toward the house of the alferez. He
dashed up the steps and knocked impatiently. The alferez opened.
"Ah, father, I was just going to see you; your young buck----"
"I've something very important----" began the breathless curate.
"I can't allow the fences to be broken; if he comes back, I shall
fire on him."
"Who knows whether to-morrow you will be alive," said the curate,
going on toward the reception-room.
"What? You think that youngster is going to kill me?"
"Senor alferez, the lives of all of us are in danger!"
"What?"
The curate pointed to the door, which the alferez closed in his
customary fashion.
"Now, go ahead," he said calmly.
"Did you see how I ran? When I thus forget myself, there is some
grave reason."
"And this time it is----"
The curate approached him and spoke low.
"Do you--know--of nothing--new?"
The alferez shrugged his shoulders.
"Are you speaking of Elias?"
"No, no! I'm speaking of a great peril!"
"Well, finish then!" cried the exasperated alferez.
The curate lowered his voice mysteriously:
"I have discovered a conspiracy!"
The alferez gave a spring and looked at the curate in stupefaction.
"A terrible conspiracy, well organized, that is to break out to-night!"
The alferez rushed across the room, took down his sabre from the wall,
and grasped his revolver.
"Whom shall I arrest?" he cried.
"Be calm! There is plenty of time, thanks to the haste with which I
came. At eight o'clock----"
"They shall be shot, all of them!"
"Listen! It is a secret of the confessional, discovered to me by a
woman. At eight o'clock they are to surprise the barracks, sack the
convent, and assassinate all the Spaniards."
The alferez stood dumbfounded.
"Be ready for them; ambush your soldiers; send me four guards for
the convent! You will earn your promotion to-night! I only ask you
to make it known that it was I who warned you."
"It shall be known, father; it shall be known, and, perhaps, it will
bring down a mitre!" replied the alferez, his eyes on the sleeves of
his uniform.
While this conversation was in progress, Elias was running toward the
house of Ibarra. He entered and was shown to the laboratory, where
Crisostomo was passing the time until the hour of his appointment
with Maria Clara.
"Ah! It is you, Elias?" he said, without noticing the tremor of the
helmsman. "See here! I've just made a discovery: this piece of bamboo
is non-combustible."
"Senor, there is no time to talk of that; take your papers and flee!"
Ibarra looked up amazed, and, seeing the gravity of the helmsman's
face, let fall the piece of bamboo.
"Leave nothing behind that could compromise you, and may an hour from
this time find you in a safer place than this!"
"What does all this mean?"
"That there is a conspiracy on foot which will be attributed to you. I
have this moment been talking with a man hired to take part in it."
"Did he tell you who paid him?"
"He said it was you."
Ibarra stared in stupid amazement.
"Senor, you haven't a moment to lose. The plot is to be carried
out to-night."
Crisostomo still gazed at Elias, as if he did not understand.
"I learned of it too late; I don't know the leaders; I can do
nothing. Save yourself, senor!"
"Where can I go? I am due now at Captain Tiago's," said Ibarra,
beginning to come out of his trance.
"To another pueblo, to Manila, anywhere! Destroy your papers! Fly,
and await events!"
"And Maria Clara? No! Better die!"
Elias wrung his hands.
"Prepare for the accusation, at all events. Destroy your papers!"