"I believe you," he said, grasping his hand. "It was not in vainthat I came to you for counsel. I will go straight to the curate,who, after all, may be a fair-minded man. They are not all like thepersecutor of my father. I go with faith in God and man."

  He took leave of Tasio, mounted, and rode away, followed by the regardof the pessimistic old philosopher, who stood muttering to himself:

  "We shall see, we shall see how the fates unroll the drama begun inthe cemetery!"

  This time the wise Tasio was wrong; the drama had begun long before.

  XXII.

  THE MEETING AT THE TOWN HALL.

  It was a room of twelve or fifteen by eight or ten yards. Thewhitewashed walls were covered with charcoal drawings, more or lessugly, more or less decent. In the corner were a dozen old shot-gunsand some rusty swords, the arms of the cuadrilleros.

  At one end, draped with soiled red curtains, was a portrait of HisMajesty the King, and on the platform underneath an old fauteuilopened its worn arms; before this was a great table, daubed with ink,carved and cut with inscriptions and monograms, like the tables ofa German students' inn. Lame chairs and tottering benches completedthe furniture.

  In this hall meetings were held, courts sat, tortures wereinflicted. At the moment the authorities of the pueblo and its vicinitywere met there. The party of the old did not mingle with the partyof the young; the two represented the Conservatives and Liberals.

  "My friends," Don Filipo, the chief of the Liberals, was saying toa little group, "we shall vanquish the old men this time; I'm goingto present their plan myself, with exaggerations, you may imagine."

  "What are you saying?" demanded his surprised auditors.

  "Listen," said Don Filipo. "This morning I ran across old Tasio. Hesaid to me: 'Your enemies are more opposed to your person than to yourideas. Is there something you don't want to have go through? Propose ityourself. If it's as desirable as a mitre, they will reject it. Thenlet the most modest young fellow among you present what you reallywant. To humiliate you, your enemies will help to carry it.' Hush! Keepthe secret."

  The gobernadorcillo had come in. Conversation ceased, all took places,and silence reigned.

  The captain, as the gobernadorcillo is called, sat down in the chairunder the king's portrait. His look was harried. He coughed, passedhis hand over his cranium, coughed again, and at length began in afailing voice:

  "Senores, I've taken the risk of convening you all--hem, hem!--becausewe are to celebrate, the twelfth of this month, the feast of ourpatron, San Diego--hem, hem!"

  At this point of his discourse a cough, dry and regular, reduced himto silence.

  Then from among the elders arose Captain Basilio:

  "Will your honors permit me," said he, "to speak a word under theseinteresting circumstances? I speak first, though many of those presenthave more right than I, but the things I have to say are of suchimportance that they should neither be left aside nor said last,and for that reason I wish to speak first, to give them the placethey merit. Your honors will, then, permit me to speak first in thisassembly, where I see very distinguished people, like the senor, thepresent gobernadorcillo; his predecessor, my distinguished friend, DonValentine; his other predecessor, Don Julio; our renowned captain ofthe cuadrilleros, Don Melchior, and so many others, whom, for brevity,I will not mention, and whom you see here present. I entreat yourhonors to give me the floor before any one else speaks. Am I happyenough to have the assembly accede to my humble request?" And thespeaker bowed respectfully, half smiling.

  "You may speak, we shall hear you with pleasure!" cried his flatteringfriends, who held him a great orator. The old men hemmed withsatisfaction and rubbed their hands.

  Captain Basilio wiped the sweat from his brow and continued:

  "Since your honors have been so kind and complaisant toward my humbleself as to grant me the right of speech before all others here present,I shall profit by this permission, so generously accorded, and I shallspeak. I imagine in my imagination that I find myself in the midst ofthe very venerable Roman senate--senatus populusque Romanus, as we saidin those good old times which, unhappily for humanity, will never comeback,--and I will ask the patres conscripti--as the sage Cicero wouldsay if he were in my place--I would ask them, since time presses,and time is golden as Solomon says, that in this important mattereach one give his opinion clearly, briefly, and simply. I have done."

  And satisfied with himself and with the attention of the house theorator sat down, not without directing toward his friends a lookwhich plainly said: "Ha! Did I speak well? Ha!"

  "Now the floor belongs to any one who--hem!" said the gobernadorcillo,without being able to finish his sentence.

  To judge by the general silence, no one wished to be one of the patresconscripti. Don Filipo profited thereby and rose.

  The Conservatives looked at one another with significant nods andgestures.

  "Senores, I will present my project for the fete," he began.

  "We cannot accept it!" said an uncompromising Conservative.

  "We vote against it!" cried another adversary.

  Don Filipo could not repress a smile.

  "We have a budget of 3,500 pesos. With this sum we can assure afete that will surpass any we have yet seen in our own province orin others."

  There were cries of "Impossible!" Such a pueblo spent 4,000 pesos;another, 5,000!

  "Listen, senores, and you will be convinced," continued Don Filipo,unshaken. "I propose that in the middle of the plaza we erect a grandtheatre, costing 150 pesos."

  "Not enough! Say 160!"

  "Observe, gentlemen, 200 pesos for the theatre. I propose thatarrangements be made with the Comedy Company of Tondo for sevenrepresentations, seven consecutive evenings, at 200 pesos anevening. Seven representations, at 200 pesos each, makes 1,400pesos. Observe, senor director, 1,400 pesos."

  Old and young looked at one another in surprise. Only those in thesecret remained unmoved.

  "I further propose magnificent fireworks; not those little rocketsand crackers that amuse nobody but children and old maids, but greatbombs, colossal rockets. I propose, then, 200 bombs at two pesos each,and 200 rockets at the same price. Observe, senores, 1,000 pesos forbombs and----"

  The Conservatives could not contain themselves. They got up andconferred with one another.

  "And further, to show our neighbors that we are not people who mustcount their expenditures, I propose, first, four great preachers forthe two feast days; second, that each day we throw into the lake 200roasted fowls, 100 stuffed capons, and 50 sucking pigs, as did Sylla,contemporary of Cicero, to whom Captain Basilio alluded."

  "That's it! Like Sylla!" repeated Captain Basilio, flattered.

  The astonishment grew.

  "As many rich people will come to the fetes, each bringing thousandsof pesos and his best cocks, I propose fifteen days of the gallera,the liberty of open gaming houses----"

  Cries rising from all sides drowned his voice; there was a veritabletumult. The gobernadorcillo, more crushed than ever, did nothing toquell it; he waited for order to establish itself.

  Happily Captain Valentine, most moderate of the Conservatives, roseand said:

  "What the lieutenant proposes seems to us extravagant. So many bombsand so much comedy could only be proposed by a young man, like thelieutenant, who could pass all his evenings at the theatre and hearcountless detonations without becoming deaf. And what of these fowlsthrown into the lake? Why should we imitate Sylla and the Romans? Didthey ever invite us to their fetes? I'm an old man, and I've neverreceived any summons from them!"

  "The Romans live at Rome with the Pope," Captain Basilio whispered.

  This did not disconcert Don Valentine.

  "At all events," he went on, "the project is inadmissible, impossible;it's a folly!"

  Don Filipo must needs retire his project.

  Satisfied with the defeat of their enemy, the Conservatives were notdispleased to see another young man rise, the municipal head of
agroup of fifty or sixty families, known as a balangay.

  He modestly excused himself for speaking. With delicate blandishmentshe referred to the "ideas so elegantly expressed by Captain Basilio,"upon which the delighted captain made signs to show him how togesture and to change position: then he unfolded his project: to havesomething absolutely new, and to spend the 3,500 pesos in such a wayas to benefit their own province.

  "That's it!" interrupted the young men; "that's what we want!"

  What did they care about seeing the King of Bohemia cut off theheads of his daughters! They were neither kings nor barbarians, andif they did such things themselves, would be hung high on the fieldof Bagumbayan. He proposed that two native plays be given which dealtwith the manners of the times. There were two he had in mind, worksof their best writers. They demanded only native costumes, and couldbe played by amateurs of talent, of whom the province had no lack.

  "A good idea!" some of the Conservatives began to murmur.

  "I'll pay for the theatre!" cried Captain Basilio, with enthusiasm.

  "Accepted! Accepted!" cried numerous voices. The young man went on:

  "A part of the money taken at the theatre might be distributed inprizes: to the best pupil in the school, the best shepherd, thebest fisherman. We might have boat races, and games, and fireworks,of course."

  Almost all were agreed, though some talked about "innovations."

  When silence was established, only the decision of the gobernadorcillowas wanting.

  The poor man passed his hand across his forehead, he fidgeted, heperspired; finally he stammered, lowering his eyes:

  "I also; I approve; but, hem!"

  The assembly listened in silence.

  "But----" demanded Captain Basilio.

  "I approve entirely," repeated the functionary, "that is to say,I do not approve; I say yes, but----"

  He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

  "But," continued the unhappy man, coming to the point at last,"the curate wants something else."

  "Is the curate to pay for the festival? Has he given even acuarto?" cried a penetrating voice.

  Every one turned. It was Tasio. The lieutenant remained immovable,his eyes on the gobernadorcillo.

  "And what does the curate want?" demanded Don Basilio.

  "The curate wants six processions, three sermons, three solemn masses,and if any money is left, a comedy with songs between the acts."

  "But we don't want it!" cried the young men and some of their elders.

  "The curate wishes it," repeated the gobernadorcillo, "and I'vepromised that his wishes shall be carried out."

  "Then why did you call us together?" asked one, impatient.

  "Why didn't you say so in the beginning?" demanded another.

  "I wished to, senores, but, Captain Basilio, I did not have achance. We must obey the curate!"

  "We must obey!" repeated some of the Conservatives.

  Don Filipo approached the gobernadorcillo and said bitterly:

  "I sacrificed my pride in a good cause; you sacrifice your manlinessin a bad one; you spoil every good thing that might be done!"

  Ibarra said to the schoolmaster:

  "Have you any commission for the capital? I leave immediately."

  On the way home the old philosopher said to Don Filipo, who wascursing his fate:

  "The fault is ours. You didn't protest when they gave you a slavefor mayor, and I, fool that I am, forgot about him!"

  XXIII.

  THE EVE OF THE FETE.

  It is the 10th of November, the eve of the fete. The pueblo of SanDiego is stirred by an incredible activity; in the houses, the streets,the church, the gallera, all is unwonted movement. From windows flagsand rugs are hanging; the air, resounding with bombs and music,seems saturated with gayety. Inside on little tables covered withbordered cloths the dalaga arranges in jars of tinted crystal theconfitures made from the native fruits. Servants come and go; orders,whispers, comments, conjectures are everywhere. And all this activityand labor are for guests as often unknown as known; the stranger,the friend, the Filipino, the Spaniard, the rich man, the poor man,will be equally fortunate; and no one will ask his gratitude, noreven demand that he speak well of his host till the end of his dinner.

  The red covers which all the year protect the lamps are taken off,and the swinging prisms and crystal pendants strike out harmonies fromone another and throw dancing rainbow colors on the white walls. Theglass globes, precious heirlooms, are rubbed and polished; the daintyhandiwork of the young girls of the house is brought out. Floorsshine like mirrors, curtains of pina or silk jusi ornament the doors,and in the windows hang lanterns of crystal or of colored paper. Thevases on the Chinese pedestals are heaped with flowers, the saintsthemselves in their reliquaries are dusted and wreathed with blossoms.

  At intervals along the streets rise graceful arches of reed; aroundthe parvis of the church is the costly covered passageway, supportedby trunks of bamboos, under which the procession is to pass, andin the centre of the plaza rises the platform of the theatre, withits stage of reed, of nipa, or of wood. The native pyrotechnician,who learns his art from no one knows what master, is getting readyhis castles, balloons, and fiery wheels; all the bells of the puebloare ringing gaily. There are sounds of music in the distance, and thegamins run to meet the bands and give them escort. In comes the fanfarewith spirited marches, followed by the ragged and half-naked urchins,who, the moment a number is ended, know it by heart, hum it, whistleit with wonderful accuracy, and are ready to pass judgment on it.

  Meanwhile the people of the mountains, the kasama, in gala dress,bring down to the rich of the pueblo wild game and fruits, and therarest plants of the woods, the biga, with its great leaves, andthe tikas-tikas, whose flaming flowers will ornament the doorways ofthe houses. And from all sides, in all sorts of vehicles, arrive theguests, known and unknown, many bringing with them their best cocksand sacks of gold to risk in the gallera, or on the green cloth.

  "The alferez has fifty pesos a night," a little plump man is murmuringin the ears of his guests. "Captain Tiago will hold the bank; CaptainJoaquin brings eighteen thousand. There will be liam-po; the ChineseCarlo puts up the game, with a capital of ten thousand. Sporting menare coming from Lipa and Batanzos and Santa Cruz. There will be bigplay! big play!--but will you take chocolate?--Captain Tiago won'tfleece us this year as he did last; and how is your family?"

  "Very well, very well, thank you! And Father Damaso?"

  "The father will preach in the morning and be with us at the gamesin the evening."

  "He's out of danger now?"

  "Without question! Ah, it's the Chinese who will let their handsgo!" And in dumb show the little man counted money with his hands.

  But the greatest animation of all was at the outskirts of the crowd,around a sort of platform a few paces from the home of Ibarra. Pulleyscreaked, cries went up, one heard the metallic ring of stone-cutting,of nail-driving; a band of workmen were opening a long, deep trench;others were placing in line great stones from the quarries of thepueblo, emptying carts, dumping sand, placing capstans.

  "This way! That's it! Quick about it!" a little old man ofintelligent and animated face was crying. It was the foreman, SenorJuan, architect, mason, carpenter, metalworker, stonecutter, and onoccasions sculptor. To each stranger he repeated what he had alreadysaid a thousand times.

  "Do you know what we are going to build? A model school, like thoseof Germany, and even better. The plans were traced by Senor R----. Idirect the work. Yes, senor, you see it is to be a palace with twowings, one for the boys, the other for the girls. Here in the centrewill be a great garden with three fountains, and at the sides littlegardens for the children to cultivate plants. That great space yousee there is for playgrounds. It will be magnificent!" And the SenorJuan rubbed his hands, thinking of his fame to come. Soothed by itscontemplation, he went back and forth, passing everything in review.

  "That's too much wood for a crane," he said to a Mongol
, who wasdirecting a part of the work. "The three beams that make the tripodand the three joining them would be enough for me."

  "But not for me," replied the Mongol, with a peculiar smile, "themore ornament, the more imposing the effect. You will see! I shalltrim it, too, with wreaths and streamers. You will say in the endthat you were right to give the work into my hands, and Senor Ibarrawill have nothing left to desire."

  The man smiled still, and Senor Juan laughed and threw back his head.

  In truth, Ibarra's project had found an echo almost everywhere. Thecurate had asked to be a patron and to bless the cornerstone, aceremony that was to take place the last day of the fete, and to beone of its chief solemnities. One of the most conservative papers ofManila had dedicated to Ibarra on its first page an article entitled,"Imitate Him!" He was therein called "the young and rich capitalist,already a marked man," "the distinguished philanthropist," "the SpanishFilipino," and so forth. The students who had come from Manila forthe fete were full of admiration for Ibarra, and ready to take himfor their model. But, as almost always when we try to imitate a manwho towers above the crowd, we ape his weaknesses, if not his faults,many of these admirers of Crisostomo's held rigorously to the tie ofhis cravat, or the shape of his collar; almost all to the number ofbuttons on his vest. Even Captain Tiago burned with generous emulation,and asked himself if he ought not to build a convent.

  The dark presentiments of old Tasio seemed dissipated. When Ibarra saidso to him, the old pessimist replied: "Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes."