Toward evening Captain Tiago arrived from Manila, bringing MariaClara, in honor of the fete, a beautiful reliquary of gold, set withemeralds and diamonds, enshrining a splinter from the fishing-boatof St. Peter. Scarcely had he come when a party of Maria's friendscame to take her out to see the streets.
"Go," said Captain Tiago, "but come back soon. Father Damaso, you know,is to dine with us. You, too, Crisostomo, must join us."
"With the greatest pleasure," stammered Ibarra, avoiding Maria Clara'seyes, "if I did not feel that I must be at home to receive whoevermay come."
"Bring your friends here; there is always room at my table," saidCaptain Tiago, somewhat coldly. "I wish Father Damaso and you to cometo an understanding."
"There is yet time," said Ibarra, forcing a smile.
As they descended to the street, Aunt Isabel following, people movedaside to let them pass. Maria Clara was a vision of loveliness: herpallor had disappeared, and if her eyes remained pensive, her mouthseemed to know only smiles. With the amiability characteristic ofhappy young womanhood she saluted the people she had known as a child,and they smiled back their admiration. In these few days of freedom shehad regained the frank friendliness, the gracious speech, which seemedto have slumbered inside the narrow walls of her convent. She felt anew, intense life within her, and everything without seemed good andbeautiful. She showed her love for Ibarra with that maiden sweetnesswhich comes from pure thoughts and knows no reason for false blushes.
At regular intervals in the streets were kindled great clusteredlights with bamboo supports, like candelabra. People were beginningto illuminate their houses, and through the open windows one couldsee the guests moving about in the radiance among the flowers tothe music of harp, piano, or orchestra. Outside, in gala costume,native or European, Chinese, Spaniards, and Filipinos were movingin all directions, escaping with difficulty the crush of carriagesand calashes.
When the party reached Captain Basilio's house, Sinang saw them,and ran down the steps.
"Come up till I'm ready to go out with you," she said. "I'm weary ofall these strangers who talk of nothing but cocks and cards."
The house was full of people. Many came up to greet Crisostomo, andall admired Maria Clara. "Beautiful as the Virgin!" the old dameswhispered, chewing their buyo.
Here they must take chocolate. As they were leaving, Captain Basiliosaid in Ibarra's ear:
"Won't you join us this evening? Father Damaso is going to make upa little purse."
Ibarra smiled and answered by a movement of the head, which mighthave meant anything.
Chatting and laughing, the merry party went on past the brilliantlyilluminated houses. At length they came to one fast closed and dark. Itwas the home of the alferez. Maria was astonished.
"It's that old sorceress. The Muse of the Municipal Guard, as Tasiocalls her," said Sinang. "Her house is in mourning because the peopleare gay."
At a corner of the plaza, where a blind man was singing, an uncommonsight offered itself. A man stood there, miserably dressed, hishead covered by a great salakot of palm leaves, which completelyhid his face, though from its shadow two lights gleamed and went outfitfully. He was tall, and, from his figure, young. He pushed forwarda basket, and after speaking some unintelligible words drew back andstood completely isolated. Women passing put fruit and rice into hisbasket, and at this he came forward a little, speaking what seemedto be his thanks.
Maria Clara felt the presence of some great suffering. "Who is it?" sheasked Iday.
"It's a leper. He lives outside the pueblo, near the Chinese cemetery;every one fears to go near him. If you could see his cabin! The wind,the rain, and the sun must visit him as they like."
"Poor man!" murmured Maria Clara, and hardly knowing what she did,she went up and put into the basket the reliquary her father had justgiven her.
"Maria!" exclaimed her friends.
"I had nothing else," she said, forcing back the tears.
"What will he do with the reliquary? He can't sell it! Nobody willtouch it now! If only it could be eaten!" said Sinang.
But the leper went to the basket, took the glittering thing in hishands, fell on his knees, kissed it, and bent his head to the ground,uncovering humbly. Maria Clara turned her face to hide the tears.
As the leper knelt, a woman crept up and knelt beside him. By her long,loose hair and emaciated face the people recognized Sisa. The leper,feeling her touch, sprang up with a cry; but, to the horror of thecrowd, she clung to his arm.
"Pray! Pray!" said she. "It is the Feast of the Dead! These lightsare the souls of men. Pray for my sons!"
"Separate them! Separate them!" cried the crowd; but no one dareddo it.
"Do you see the light in the tower? That is my son Basilio, ringingthe bells. Do you see that other in the manse? That is my son Crispin;but I cannot go to them, because the curate is ill, and his money islost. I carried the curate fruit from my garden. My garden was fullof flowers, and I had two sons. I had a garden, I tended my flowers,and I had two sons."
And leaving the leper she moved away, singing:
"I had a garden and flowers. I had two sons, a garden and flowers."
"What have you done for that poor woman?" Maria asked Ibarra.
"Nothing yet," he replied, somewhat confused. "But don't be troubled;the curate has promised to aid me."
As they spoke, a soldier came dragging Sisa back, rather than leadingher. She was resisting.
"Where are you taking her? What has she done?" asked Ibarra.
"What has she done? Didn't you hear the noise she made?" said theguardian of public tranquillity.
The leper took up his basket and vanished. Maria Clara asked togo home. She had lost all her gayety. Her sadness increased when,arrived at her door, her fiance refused to go in.
"It must be so to-night," he said as he bade her good-by.
Maria, mounting the steps, thought how tiresome were fete days,when one must receive so many strangers.
The next evening a little perfumed note came to Ibarra by the handof Andeng, Maria's foster sister.
"Crisostomo, for a whole day I have not seen you. They tell me you are ill. I have lighted two candles and prayed for you. I'm so tired of being asked to play and dance. I did not know there were so many tiresome people in the world. If Father Damaso had not tried to amuse me with stories, I should have left them all and gone away to sleep. Write me how you are, and if I shall send papa to see you. I send you Andeng now to make your tea; she will do it better than your servants. If you don't come to-morrow, I shall not go to the ceremony.
Maria Clara."
XXIV.
IN THE CHURCH.
The orchestras sounded the reveille at the first rays of the sun,waking with joyous airs the tired inhabitants of the pueblo.
It was the last day of the fete--indeed, the fete itself. Every oneexpected much more than on the eve, when the Brothers of the SacredRosary had had their sermon and procession; for the Brothers of theThird Order were more numerous, and counted on humiliating theirrivals. The Chinese candle merchants had reaped a rich harvest.
Everybody put on his gala dress; all the jewels came out of theircoffers; the fops and sporting men wore rows of diamond buttons ontheir shirt fronts, heavy gold chains, and white jipijapa hats, asthe Indians call Panamas. No one but old Tasio was in everyday costume.
"You seem even sadder than usual," the lieutenant said to him. "Becausewe have so many reasons to weep, may we not laugh once in a while?"
"Yes, laugh, but not play the fool! It's the same insane orgy everyyear, the same waste of money when there's so much need and so muchsuffering! But I see! It's the orgy, the bacchanal, that is to stillthe lamentations of the poor!"
"You know I share your opinion," said Don Filipo, half serious,half laughing, "and that I defended it; but what can I do againstthe gobernadorcillo and the curate?"
"Resign!" cries the irate old man, leaving him.
"Resign!" mut
tered Don Filipo, going on toward thechurch. "Resign? Yes, certainly, if my post were an honor and nota charge."
There was a crowd in the parvis, and men, women, and childrenin a stream were coming and going through the narrow doors ofthe church. The smell of powder mingled with that of flowers andincense. Rockets, bombs, and serpents made women run and scream anddelighted the children. An orchestra was playing before the convent;bands accompanied dignitaries on their way to the church, or paradedthe streets under innumerable floating and dipping flags. Light andcolor distracted the eye, music and explosions the ear.
High mass was about to be celebrated. Among the congregation wereto be the chief alcalde of the province and other Spanish notables;and last, the sermon would be given by Brother Damaso, who had thegreatest renown as a preacher.
The church was crammed. People were jostled, crushed, trampled on, andcried out at each encounter. From far they stretched their arms to diptheir fingers in the holy water, but getting nearer, saw its color, andthe hands retired. They scarcely breathed; the heat and atmosphere wereinsupportable; but the preacher was worth the endurance of all thesemiseries; besides, his sermon was to cost the pueblo two hundred andfifty pesos. Fans, hats, and handkerchiefs agitated the air; childrencried, and gave the sacristans a hard enough task getting them out.
Ibarra was in a corner. Maria Clara knelt near the high altar, wherethe curate had reserved a place for her. Captain Tiago, in frock coat,sat on the bench of authorities, and the children, who did not knowhim, taking him for another gobernadorcillo, dared not go near him.
At length the alcalde arrived with his suite. He came from thesacristy, and sat down in a splendid fauteuil, beneath which wasspread a rich carpet. He was in full dress, and wore the cordon ofCharles III., with four or five other decorations.
"Ha!" cried a countryman. "A citizen in fancy dress!"
"Imbecile!" replied his neighbor. "It's Prince Villardo whom wesaw last night in the play!" And the alcalde, in the character ofgiant-slayer, rose accordingly in the popular estimation.
Presently those seated arose, those sleeping awoke, the mass hadbegun. Brother Salvi celebrated, attended by two Augustins. At lengthcame the long-looked-for moment of the sermon. The three priestssat down, the alcalde and other notables followed them, the musicceased. The people made themselves as comfortable as possible, thosewho had no benches sitting outright on the pavement, or arrangingthemselves tailor fashion.
Preceded by two sacristans and followed by another monk, who borea great book, Father Damaso made his way through the crowd. Hedisappeared a moment in the spiral staircase of the pulpit, thenhis great head reappeared and his herculean bust. He looked over hisaudience, and, the review terminated, said to his companion, hiddenat his feet:
"Attention, brother!"
The monk opened his book.
XXV.
THE SERMON.
The first part of the sermon was to be in Castilian, the remainderin Tagalo. Brother Damaso began slowly and in ordinary voice:
"Et spiritum tuum bonum dedisti qui docevet eos, et manna tuum nonprohibuisti ab ore eorum, et aquam dedisti eis in siti. Words of theLord spoken by the mouth of Esdras, Book II., chapter ix., verse 20.
"Most worshipful senor (to the alcalde), very reverend priests,brothers in Christ!"
Here an impressive pose and a new glance round the audience, then,his eyes on the alcalde, the father majestically extended his righthand toward the altar, slowly crossed his arms, without saying a word,and, passing from this calm to action, threw back his head, pointedtoward the main entrance, and, impetuously cutting the air with theedge of his hand, began to speak in a voice strong, full, and resonant.
"Brilliant and splendid is the altar, wide the door, the air is thevehicle of the sacred word which shall spring from my lips. Hear,then, with the ears of the soul and the heart, that the words of theLord may not fall on a stony ground, but that they may grow and shootupward in the field of our seraphic father, St. Francis. You, sinners,captives of those Moors of the soul who infest the seas of the eternallife, in the doughty ships of the flesh and the world; you who rowin the galleys of Satan, behold with reverent compunction him whoredeems souls from the captivity of the demon--the intrepid Gideon,the courageous David, the victorious Roland of Christianity! thecelestial guard, more valiant than all the civil guards of past andfuture. (The alferez frowned.) Yes, Senor Alferez, more valiant andmore powerful than all! This conqueror, who, without other weaponthan a wooden cross, vanquished the eternal tulisanes of darkness,and would have utterly destroyed them were spirits not immortal. Thismarvel, this incredible phenomenon, is the blessed Diego of Alcala!"
The "rude Indians," as the correspondents say, fished out of thisparagraph only the words civil guard, tulisane, San Diego, and SanFrancisco. They had noticed the grimace of the alferez and the militantgesture of the preacher, and had from this deduced that the fatherwas angry with the guard for not pursuing the tulisanes, and thatSan Diego and San Francisco had taken upon themselves to do it. Theywere enchanted, not doubting that, the tulisanes once dispersed,St. Francis would also destroy the municipal guard. Their attention,therefore, redoubled.
The monk continued so long his eulogy of San Diego that his auditors,not even excepting Captain Tiago, began to yawn a little. Thenhe reproached them with living like the Protestants and heretics,who respect not the ministers of God; like the Chinese, for whichcondemnation be upon them!
"What is he telling us, the Pale Lamaso?" murmured the Chinese Carlos,looking angrily at the preacher, who went on improvising a series ofapostrophes and imprecations.
"You will die in impenitence, race of heretics! Your punishment isalready being meted out to you in jails and prisons. The family and itswomen should flee you; rulers should destroy you. If you have a memberthat causeth you to offend, cut it off and cast it into the fire!"
Brother Damaso was nervous. He had forgotten his sermon and wasimprovising. Ibarra became restless; he looked about in search ofsome corner, but the church was full. Maria Clara no longer heardthe sermon. She was analyzing a picture of the souls of the "Blessedin Purgatory."
In the improvisation the monk who played the part of prompter lost hisplace and skipped some paragraphs. The text returned to San Diego,and with a long series of exclamations and contrasts the fatherbrought to a close the first part of his sermon.
The second part was entirely improvised; not that Brother Damasoknew Tagalo better than Castilian; but, considering the natives ofthe province entirely ignorant of rhetoric, he did not mind makingerrors before them. Yet the second part of his discourse had forcertain people graver consequences than the first.
He began with a "Mana capatir concristians," "My Christian brothers,"followed by an avalanche of untranslatable phrases about thesoul, sin, and the patron saint. Then he launched a new series ofmaledictions against lack of respect and growing irreligion. On thispoint he seemed to be inspired, and expressed himself with force andclearness. He spoke of sinners who die in prison without confessionor the sacraments; of accursed families, of petty students, and oftoy philosophers.
Ibarra listened and understood. He kept a calm exterior, but his eyesturned toward the bench of magistrates. No one seemed to pay attention;as to the alcalde, he was asleep.
The inspiration of the preacher increased. He spoke of the earlytimes when every Filipino encountering a priest uncovered, knelt,and kissed his hand. Now, he said, there were those who, because theyhad studied in Manila or in Europe, thought fit to shake the hand ofa priest instead of kissing it.
But in spite of the cries and gestures of the orator, by this timemany of his auditors slept, and few listened. Some of the devoutwould have wept over the sins of the ungodly, but nobody joined them,and they were forced to give it up. A man seated beside an old womanwent so sound asleep that he fell over against her. The good womantook her slipper and tried to waken him, at the same time crying out:
"Get away! Savage, animal, demon, carabao!"
Na
turally this raised a tumult. The preacher elevated his brows,struck dumb by such a scandal; indignation strangled the words inhis throat; he could only strike the pulpit with his fists. This hadits effect. The old woman dropped the shoe and, still grumbling andsigning herself, sank on her knees.
"Ah, ah, ah, ah!" the irate priest could at last articulate. "It is forthis that I have preached to you all the morning! Savages! You respectnothing! Behold the work of the incontinence of the century!" Andlaunched again upon this theme, he preached a half hour longer. Thealcalde breathed loud. Maria Clara, having studied all the pictures insight, had dropped her head. Crisostomo had ceased to be moved by thesermon. He was picturing a little house, high up among the mountains,with Maria Clara in the garden. Why concern himself with men, draggingout their lives in the miserable pueblos of the valley?
At length the sermon ended, and the mass went on. At the momentwhen all were kneeling and the priests bowed their heads at the"Incarnatus est," a man murmured in Ibarra's ear: "At the blessingof the cornerstone do not separate yourself from the curate; do notgo down into the trench. Your life is at stake!"
It was the helmsman.
XXVI.
THE CRANE.
It was indeed not an ordinary crane that the Mongol had built forletting the enormous cornerstone of the school into the trench. Theframework was complicated and the cables passed over extraordinarypulleys. Flags, streamers, and garlands of flowers, however, hid themechanism. By means of a cleverly contrived capstan, the enormousstone held suspended over the open trench could be raised or loweredwith ease by a single man.