Noli me tángere. English

  CHAPTER LVII

  Vae Victis!

  Mi gozo en un pozo.

  Guards with forbidding mien paced to and fro in front of the door ofthe town hall, threatening with their rifle-butts the bold urchins whorose on tiptoe or climbed up on one another to see through the bars.

  The hall itself did not present that agreeable aspect it wore whenthe program of the fiesta was under discussion--now it was gloomyand rather ominous. The civil-guards and cuadrilleros who occupied itscarcely spoke and then with few words in low tones. At the table thedirectorcillo, two clerks, and several soldiers were rustling papers,while the alferez strode from one side to the other, at times gazingfiercely toward the door: prouder Themistocles could not have appearedin the Olympic games after the battle of Salamis. Dona Consolacionyawned in a corner, exhibiting a dirty mouth and jagged teeth, whileshe fixed her cold, sinister gaze on the door of the jail, which wascovered with indecent drawings. She had succeeded in persuading herhusband, whose victory had made him amiable, to let her witness theinquiry and perhaps the accompanying tortures. The hyena smelt thecarrion and licked herself, wearied by the delay.

  The gobernadorcillo was very compunctious. His seat, that large chairplaced under his Majesty's portrait, was vacant, being apparentlyintended for some one else. About nine o'clock the curate arrived,pale and scowling.

  "Well, you haven't kept yourself waiting!" the alferez greeted him.

  "I should prefer not to be present," replied Padre Salvi in a lowvoice, paying no heed to the bitter tone of the alferez. "I'm verynervous."

  "As no one else has come to fill the place, I judged that yourpresence--You know that they leave this afternoon."

  "Young Ibarra and the teniente-mayor?"

  The alferez pointed toward the jail. "There are eight there," hesaid. "Bruno died at midnight, but his statement is on record."

  The curate saluted Dona Consolacion, who responded with a yawn, andtook his seat in the big chair under his Majesty's portrait. "Let usbegin," he announced.

  "Bring out those two who are in the stocks," ordered the alferez ina tone that he tried to make as terrible as possible. Then turningto the curate he added with a change of tone, "They are fastened inby skipping two holes."

  For the benefit of those who are not informed about theseinstruments of torture, we will say that the stocks are one of themost harmless. The holes in which the offender's legs are placedare a little more or less than a foot apart; by skipping two holes,the prisoner finds himself in a rather forced position with peculiarinconvenience to his ankles and a distance of about a yard betweenhis lower extremities. It does not kill instantaneously, as may wellbe imagined.

  The jailer, followed by four soldiers, pushed back the bolt and openedthe door. A nauseating odor and currents of thick, damp air escapedfrom the darkness within at the same time that laments and sighs wereheard. A soldier struck a match, but the flame was choked in such afoul atmosphere, and they had to wait until the air became fresher.

  In the dim light of the candle several human forms became vaguelyoutlined: men hugging their knees or hiding their heads between them,some lying face downward, some standing, and some turned toward thewall. A blow and a creak were heard, accompanied by curses--the stockswere opened, Dona Consolacion bent forward with the muscles of herneck swelling and her bulging eyes fixed on the half-opened door.

  A wretched figure, Tarsilo, Bruno's brother, came out between twosoldiers. On his wrists were handcuffs and his clothing was in shreds,revealing quite a muscular body. He turned his eyes insolently onthe alferez's woman.

  "This is the one who defended himself with the most courage and toldhis companions to run," said the alferez to Padre Salvi.

  Behind him came another of miserable aspect, moaning and weeping like achild. He limped along exposing pantaloons spotted with blood. "Mercy,sir, mercy! I'll not go back into the yard," he whimpered.

  "He's a rogue," observed the alferez to the curate. "He tried torun, but he was wounded in the thigh. These are the only two that wetook alive."

  "What's your name?" the alferez asked Tarsilo.

  "Tarsilo Alasigan."

  "What did Don Crisostomo promise you for attacking the barracks?"

  "Don Crisostomo never had anything to do with us."

  "Don't deny it! That's why you tried to surprise us."

  "You're mistaken. You beat our father to death and we were avenginghim, nothing more. Look for your two associates."

  The alferez gazed at the sergeant in surprise.

  "They're over there in the gully where we threw them yesterday andwhere they'll rot. Now kill me, you'll not learn anything more."

  General surprise and silence, broken by the alferez. "You are goingto tell who your other accomplices are," he threatened, flourishinga rattan whip.

  A smile of disdain curled the prisoner's lips. The alferez consultedwith the curate in a low tone for a few moments, then turned to thesoldiers. "Take him out where the corpses are," he commanded.

  On a cart in a corner of the yard were heaped five corpses, partlycovered with a filthy piece of torn matting. A soldier walked aboutnear them, spitting at every moment.

  "Do you know them?" asked the alferez, lifting up the matting.

  Tarsilo did not answer. He saw the corpse of the madwoman's husbandwith two others: that of his brother, slashed with bayonet-thrusts,and that of Lucas with the halter still around his neck. His lookbecame somber and a sigh seemed to escape from his breast.

  "Do you know them?" he was again asked, but he still remained silent.

  The air hissed and the rattan cut his shoulders. He shuddered, hismuscles contracted. The blows were redoubled, but he remained unmoved.

  "Whip him until he bursts or talks!" cried the exasperated alferez.

  "Talk now," the directorcillo advised him. "They'll kill you anyhow."

  They led him back into the hall where the other prisoner, withchattering teeth and quaking limbs, was calling upon the saints.

  "Do you know this fellow?" asked Padre Salvi.

  "This is the first time that I've ever seen him," replied Tarsilowith a look of pity at the other.

  The alferez struck him with his fist and kicked him. "Tie him tothe bench!"

  Without taking off the handcuffs, which were covered with blood,they tied him to a wooden bench. The wretched boy looked about himas if seeking something and noticed Dona Consolacion, at sight ofwhom he smiled sardonically. In surprise the bystanders followed hisglance and saw the senora, who was lightly gnawing at her lips.

  "I've never seen an uglier woman!" exclaimed Tarsilo in the midst ofa general silence. "I'd rather lie down on a bench as I do now thanat her side as the alferez does."

  The Muse turned pale.

  "You're going to flog me to death, Senor Alferez," he went on,"but tonight your woman will revenge me by embracing you."

  "Gag him!" yelled the furious alferez, trembling with wrath.

  Tarsilo seemed to have desired the gag, for after it was put in placehis eyes gleamed with satisfaction. At a signal from the alferez,a guard armed with a rattan whip began his gruesome task. Tarsilo'swhole body contracted, and a stifled, prolonged cry escaped fromhim in spite of the piece of cloth which covered his mouth. His headdrooped and his clothes became stained with blood.

  Padre Salvi, pallid and with wandering looks, arose laboriously, madea sign with his hand, and left the hall with faltering steps. In thestreet he saw a young woman leaning with her shoulders against thewall, rigid, motionless, listening attentively, staring into space,her clenched hands stretched out along the wall. The sun beat downupon her fiercely. She seemed to be breathlessly counting those dry,dull strokes and those heartrending groans. It was Tarsilo's sister.

  Meanwhile, the scene in the hall continued. The wretched boy, overcomewith pain, silently waited for his executioners to become weary. Atlast the panting soldier let his arm fall, and the alferez, palewith anger and astonishme
nt, made a sign for them to untie him. DonaConsolacion then arose and murmured a few words into the ear of herhusband, who nodded his head in understanding.

  "To the well with him!" he ordered.

  The Filipinos know what this means: in Tagalog they call it_timbain_. We do not know who invented this procedure, but we judgethat it must be quite ancient. Truth at the bottom of a well mayperhaps be a sarcastic interpretation.

  In the center of the yard rose the picturesque curb of a well,roughly fashioned from living rock. A rude apparatus of bamboo inthe form of a well-sweep served for drawing up the thick, slimy,foul-smelling water. Broken pieces of pottery, manure, and otherrefuse were collected there, since this well was like the jail,being the place for what society rejected or found useless, andany object that fell into it, however good it might have been, wasthen a thing lost. Yet it was never closed up, and even at times theprisoners were condemned to go down and deepen it, not because therewas any thought of getting anything useful out of such punishment,but because of the difficulties the work offered. A prisoner who oncewent down there would contract a fever from which he would surely die.

  Tarsilo gazed upon all the preparations of the soldiers with a fixedlook. He was pale, and his lips trembled or murmured a prayer. Thehaughtiness of his desperation seemed to have disappeared or, at least,to have weakened. Several times he bent his stiff neck and fixed hisgaze on the ground as though resigned to his sufferings. They ledhim to the well-curb, followed by the smiling Dona Consolacion. Inhis misery he cast a glance of envy toward the heap of corpses anda sigh escaped from his breast.

  "Talk now," the directorcillo again advised him. "They'll hang youanyhow. You'll at least die without suffering so much."

  "You'll come out of this only to die," added a cuadrillero.

  They took away the gag and hung him up by his feet, for he must godown head foremost and remain some time under the water, just asthe bucket does, only that the man is left a longer time. While thealferez was gone to look for a watch to count the minutes, Tarsilohung with his long hair streaming down and his eyes half closed.

  "If you are Christians, if you have any heart," he begged in a lowvoice, "let me down quickly or make my head strike against the sidesso that I'll die. God will reward you for this good deed--perhapssome day you may be as I am!"

  The alferez returned, watch in hand, to superintend the lowering.

  "Slowly, slowly!" cried Dona Consolacion, as she kept her gaze fixedon the wretch. "Be careful!"

  The well-sweep moved gently downwards. Tarsilo rubbed against thejutting stones and filthy weeds that grew in the crevices. Then thesweep stopped while the alferez counted the seconds.

  "Lift him up!" he ordered, at the end of a half-minute. The silveryand harmonious tinkling of the drops of water falling back indicatedthe prisoner's return to the light. Now that the sweep was heavier herose rapidly. Pieces of stone and pebbles torn from the walls fellnoisily. His forehead and hair smeared with filthy slime, his facecovered with cuts and bruises, his body wet and dripping, he appearedto the eyes of the silent crowd. The wind made him shiver with cold.

  "Will you talk?" he was asked.

  "Take care of my sister," murmured the unhappy boy as he gazedbeseechingly toward one of the cuadrilleros.

  The bamboo sweep again creaked, and the condemned boy once moredisappeared. Dona Consolacion observed that the water remainedquiet. The alferez counted a minute.

  When Tarsilo again came up his features were contracted and livid. Withhis bloodshot eyes wide open, he looked at the bystanders.

  "Are you going to talk?" the alferez again demanded in dismay.

  Tarsilo shook his head, and they again lowered him. His eyelids wereclosing as the pupils continued to stare at the sky where the fleecyclouds floated; he doubled back his neck so that he might still seethe light of day, but all too soon he had to go down into the water,and that foul curtain shut out the sight of the world from him forever.

  A minute passed. The watchful Muse saw large bubbles rise to thesurface of the water. "He's thirsty," she commented with a laugh. Thewater again became still.

  This time the alferez did not give the signal for a minute anda half. Tarsilo's features were now no longer contracted. Thehalf-raised lids left the whites of his eyes showing, from his mouthpoured muddy water streaked with blood, but his body did not tremblein the chill breeze.

  Pale and terrified, the silent bystanders gazed at one another. Thealferez made a sign that they should take the body down, and thenmoved away thoughtfully. Dona Consolation applied the lighted end ofher cigar to the bare legs, but the flesh did not twitch and the firewas extinguished.

  "He strangled himself," murmured a cuadrillero. "Look how he turnedhis tongue back as if trying to swallow it."

  The other prisoner, who had watched this scene, sweating and trembling,now stared like a lunatic in all directions. The alferez ordered thedirectorcillo to question him.

  "Sir, sir," he groaned, "I'll tell everything you want me to."

  "Good! Let's see, what's your name?"

  "Andong, [144] sir!"

  "Bernardo--Leonardo--Ricardo--Eduardo--Gerardo--or what?"

  "Andong, sir!" repeated the imbecile.

  "Put it down Bernardo, or whatever it may be," dictated the alferez.

  "Surname?"

  The man gazed at him in terror.

  "What name have you that is added to the name Andong?"

  "Ah, sir! Andong the Witless, sir!"

  The bystander's could not restrain a smile. Even the alferez pausedin his pacing about.

  "Occupation?"

  "Pruner of coconut trees, sir, and servant of my mother-in-law."

  "Who ordered you to attack the barracks?"

  "No one, sir!"

  "What, no one? Don't lie about it or into the well you go! Who orderedyou? Say truly!"

  "Truly, sir!"

  "Who?"

  "Who, sir!"

  "I'm asking you who ordered you to start the revolution?"

  "What revolution, sir?"

  "This one, for you were in the yard by the barracks last night."

  "Ah, sir!" exclaimed Andong, blushing.

  "Who's guilty of that?"

  "My mother-in-law, sir!"

  Surprise and laughter followed these words. The alferez stoppedand stared not unkindly at the wretch, who, thinking that his wordshad produced a good effect, went on with more spirit: "Yes, sir, mymother-in-law doesn't give me anything to eat but what is rotten andunfit, so last night when I came by here with my belly aching I sawthe yard of the barracks near and I said to myself, 'It's night-time,no one will see me.' I went in--and then many shots sounded--"

  A blow from the rattan cut his speech short.

  "To the jail," ordered the alferez. "This afternoon, to the capital!"