CHAPTER XVII
THE BANQUET.
There, under the shade of the decorated pavilion, the great men of theprovince were banqueting. The Alcalde occupied one end of the table;Ibarra, the other. On the young man's right sat Maria Clara, and onhis left, the Notary. Captain Tiago, the alferez, the gobernadorcillo,the friars, the employees, and the few senoritas who were presentwere seated, not according to rank but according to their own fancy.
The banquet was very animated, but, before it was half over,a messenger with a telegram came in search of Captain Tiago. TheCaptain asked permission to read the message, and naturally all beggedof him to do so.
The worthy Captain at first knit his eyebrows; and then raisedthem. His face became pale, and then brightened up. Doubling up thesheet of paper hurriedly, he arose.
"Gentlemen," said he, confused, "His Excellency, the Governor General,is coming this afternoon to honor my house."
And then he started on a run, taking with him the telegram and thenapkin, but not his hat. All sorts of questions and exclamationswere shouted after him. The announcement of the coming of thetulisanes could not have had a greater effect. "But listen! Whendoes he come? Tell us about it! His Excellency!" But Captain Tiagowas already far away.
"His Excellency is coming and will be a guest at Captain Tiago'shouse!" exclaimed some one, without considering that the Captain'sdaughter and future son-in-law were present.
"The choice could not have been a better one," replied another.
The friars looked at each other. Their expressions seemed to say:"The Governor General is committing another of his errors, offendingus in this way. He ought to be the guest of the convent." But despitethe fact that they thought this, they all kept silent and no one ofthem expressed his opinion.
"Even yesterday he was speaking to me about it," said the Alcalde,"but, at that time, His Excellency was not decided."
"Do you know, Your Excellency, Senor Alcalde, how long the GovernorGeneral intends to remain here?" asked the alferez, a little uneasy.
"No, not positively. His Excellency likes surprises."
"Here come some other telegrams!"
The messages were for the Alcalde, the alferez, and thegobernadorcillo, and announced the same thing to each of them. Thefriars noticed that none came addressed to the curate.
"His Excellency will arrive at four o'clock this afternoon, gentlemen,"said the Alcalde solemnly. "We can finish at our leisure."
Leonidas, in the pass of Thermopylae, could not have said with bettergrace "To-night we will dine with Pluto."
"I notice the absence of our great preacher," said one of thegovernment employees timidly. The speaker had an inoffensive lookand before this had not opened his mouth, except to eat, during theentire morning.
All who knew the life of Crisostomo's father twitched their eyessignificantly and seemed to say by their movements: "Go on! It's a badbeginning that you have made!" But others, more benevolently disposed,replied: "He must be somewhat fatigued."
"What? Somewhat fatigued!" exclaimed the alferez. "Why, he must beexhausted. What did you think of the sermon this morning?"
"Superb, gigantic!" said the Notary.
"To be able to speak like Father Damaso, a man needs lungs," observedFather Manuel Martin.
The Augustine did not concede more than lung power.
"And such easiness of expression," added Father Salvi.
"Do you know that Senor Ibarra has the best cook in the province,"remarked the Alcalde, cutting off the conversation.
"So they say," replied one of the Government employees, "but his fairneighbor does not wish to do honor to his table, for she scarcelytakes a mouthful."
Maria Clara blushed.
"I thank you, Senor.... You occupy yourself too much about me ... but..." she said timidly.
"But your presence honors him sufficiently," concluded the gallantAlcalde. Then turning to Father Salvi: "Father Curate, I notice thatyou have been silent and pensive all day long."
"It is my nature," muttered the Franciscan. "I would rather listenthan talk."
"Your Reverence seeks always to gain and never to lose," replied thealferez, in a joking manner.
But Father Salvi did not take it as a joke. His eyes flashed amoment and he replied: "You know very well, Senor Alferez, that,during these days, I am not the one who gains most!"
The alferez overlooked the fling with a false laugh and pretendednot to hear it.
"But, gentlemen, I do not understand how you can be talking aboutgains and losses," intervened the Alcalde. "What will these amiableand discreet young women, who honor us with their presence, thinkof us? To my mind, the young women are like AEolian harps in thenight. It is only necessary to lend an attentive ear to hear them,for their unspeakable harmonies elevate the soul to the celestialspheres of the infinite and of the ideal...."
"Your Excellency is a poet," said the Notary gayly; and both drainedtheir wine glasses.
"I cannot help it," said the Alcalde, wiping his lips. "The occasion,if it does not always make the thief, makes the poet. In my youth Icomposed verses, and they certainly were not bad ones."
"So Your Excellency has been unfaithful to the Muses, deserting themfor Themis."
"Psh!" What would you do? It has always been my dream to runthrough the whole social scale. Yesterday I was gathering flowers,and singing songs; to-day I hold the wand of Justice and serveHumanity. To-morrow...."
"To-morrow Your Excellency will throw the wand into the fire to warmyourself with it in the winter of life, and will then take a portfolioin the Ministry," added Father Sibyla.
"Psh! Yes ... no.... To be a Minister is not precisely my ideal. Theunexpected always happens, though. A little villa in the north ofSpain to pass the summer in, a mansion in Madrid, and some possessionsin Andalusia for the winter.... We will live remembering our dearPhilippines.... Of me Voltaire will not say: 'Nous n'avons jamaisete chez ces peuples que pour nous y enrichir et pour les calomnier.'"
The Government employees thought that His Excellency intended a jokeand they began to laugh to make a show of appreciating it. The friarsimitated them since they did not know that Voltaire was the Volta-i-rewhom they had so often cursed and condemned to Hades. Father Sibyla,however, recognized the name and assumed a serious air, supposingthat the Alcalde had uttered some heresy.
Father Damaso was waddling down the road. He was half smiling, but insuch a malignant manner, that on seeing him, Ibarra, who was in theact of speaking, lost the thread of his remarks. All were surprised tosee Father Damaso, but, excepting Ibarra, they greeted him with marksof pleasure. They had already reached the last course of the dinner,and the champagne was foaming in the glasses.
Father Damaso showed a little nervousness in his smile when he sawMaria Clara seated on the right of Crisostomo. But, taking a chairby the side of the Alcalde, he asked in the midst of a significantsilence: "Were you not talking about something, senores? Continue!"
"We were drinking a toast," replied the Alcalde. "Senor Ibarra wasmentioning those who had aided him in his philanthropic enterpriseand was speaking of the architect when Your Reverence...."
"Well, I don't understand architecture," interrupted Father Damaso,"but architects and the dunces who go to them make me laugh! You havean example right here. I drew the plan for a church and it has beenconstructed perfectly: so an English jeweler who was one day a guestat the convent told me. To draught a plan, one need have but a smalldegree of intelligence."
"However," replied the Alcalde, seeing that Ibarra was silent,"when we are dealing with certain edifices, for example a school,we need a skilled man (perito)."
"He who needs a perito is a perrito (little dog)!" exclaimed FatherDamaso, with a scoff. "One would have to be more of a brute than thenatives, who erect their own houses, if he did not know how to buildfour walls and put a covering over them. That's all that a schoolhouse is."
All looked toward Ibarra. But the young man, even if he did look pale,kept on conve
rsing with Maria Clara.
"But Your Reverence should consider...."
"Just look you," continued the Franciscan without allowing the Alcaldeto speak. "See how one of our lay brothers, the most stupid one wehave, has built a good hospital, handsome and cheap. It is well builtand he did not pay more than eight cuartos a day to those whom heemployed even those who came from other towns. That fellow knows howto treat them. He does not do like many fools and mesticillos [13]who spoil them by paying them three or four reales."
"Does Your Reverence say that he only paid eightcuartos? Impossible!" said the Alcalde, trying to change the courseof the conversation.
"Yes, Senor; and those who brag of being good Spaniards ought toimitate him. You can see very well now, since the Suez Canal wasopened, corruption has come here. Before, when we had to double theCape, there were not so many worthless people coming out here, nordid Filipinos go abroad to be corrupted and spoiled."
"But, Father Damaso!"
"You know very well what the native is. As quickly as he learnsanything, he goes and becomes a doctor. All these ignoramuses who goto Europe...."
"But listen, Your Reverence ..." interrupted the Alcalde, becominguneasy at such harsh words.
"They are all going to end as they merit," he continued. "The hand ofGod is upon them and one must be blind not to see it. Even in thislife, the fathers of such vipers receive their punishment.... Theydie in prison, eh?"
But he did not finish his remarks. Ibarra, his face flushing, had beenfollowing him with his eyes. On hearing the allusion to his father,he rose and, with a single bound, brought down his strong hand on thehead of the priest. Stunned with the blow, the friar fell on his back.
Full of astonishment and terror, no one dared to intervene.
"Keep back!" cried the young man, with a menacing voice, andbrandishing a sharp knife in his hand. In the meantime, he heldthe friar down with his foot on his neck. The latter was recoveringconsciousness. "Let no one approach who does not want to die!"
Ibarra was beside himself. His body trembled, and his threateningeyes almost burst from their sockets. Friar Damaso struggled andraised himself, but the young man, seizing him by the collar, shookhim till he fell on his knees and collapsed.
"Senor Ibarra! Senor Ibarra!" cried some.
But nobody, not even the alferez, dared to approach the glisteningblade, considering the strength of the young man and the state ofhis mind. All were paralyzed.
"All of you people here have said nothing! Now the matter concernsme! I have avoided him. God now brings him to me. Let God judge!"
The young man was breathing hard. With iron hand he held the Franciscandown, and the latter struggled in vain to break loose.
"My heart beats tranquilly. My hand is sure."
He looked about him and continued: "Is there among you any one whodoes not love his father; any one who hates his memory, any onewho was born in disgrace and humiliation? See! Do you observe thissilence? Priest of a peaceful God, with your mouth full of sanctityand religion, and a miserable heart, you could not have known whata father is. You should have thought of your own! Do you see? Amongthis crowd which you scorn, there is none such as you! You are judged!"
The people around him made a stir, believing that he was goingto strike.
"Back!" he again cried in a threatening voice. "What? Do you fearthat I would soil my hand with his impure blood? Have I not toldyou 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 anhonorable man. Ask these people who venerate his memory. My fatherwas a good citizen. He sacrificed himself for me and for the good ofhis country! His house was open. His table was ready for the strangeror 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, norbrought sorrow to the miserable and wretched. To this man, he openedthe door of his house. He had him sit at his table and he calledhim his friend. What has he done in return? He has calumniated him,persecuted him, has armed ignorance against him, violating the sanctityof 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 hispresence. You heard him this morning profane the pulpit; you sawhim point me out to the popular fanaticism; I said nothing. Now hecomes here in search of a quarrel. To your surprise, I suffered insilence; but he again insults the sacred memory of my father, thatmemory which every son holds dear.... You who are here, you priests,you judges, have you seen your father watching over you night and dayand working for you? Have you seen him deprive himself of you for yourgood? Have you seen your father die in prison, heart broken, sighingfor some one to caress him, searching for some being to console him,alone in sickness, while you were in a foreign land? Have you heardhis name dishonored afterward? Have you found his tomb vacant whenyou wished to pray upon it? No? You are silent. Then by that silenceyou condemn him!"
He raised his arm; but a young maiden, quick as a flash, put herselfbetween them and with her delicate hands stopped the arm of theavenger. It was Maria Clara.
Ibarra looked at her with an expression that seemed to reflectmadness. Gradually, he loosened the vise-like fingers of his hand,allowed the body of the Franciscan to fall, and dropped his knifeupon the ground. Covering his face, he fled through the crowd.