Read Friars and Filipinos Page 29


  CHAPTER XXV

  SCHEMES.

  Without paying attention to anybody, Father Damaso went straight tothe sick room and took hold of Maria's hand.

  "Maria!" said he, with indescribable tenderness, as tears droppedfrom his eyes. "Maria, my child, you are not going to die!"

  Maria opened her eyes and looked at him with surprise.

  None who knew the Franciscan suspected that he ever had such tenderthoughts. No one ever supposed that a heart existed under that grossand rude aspect.

  Father Damaso could say no more and left the maiden, weeping likea child. He went out through the room at the head of the stairs,to give free vent to his grief, on Maria Clara's balcony under herfavorite vines.

  "How he loves his god-daughter!" thought they all.

  Father Salvi witnessed the scene, immovable and silent, lightly bitinghis lips.

  When his grief was somewhat soothed, Father Damaso was introducedby Dona Victorina to the young Linares, who approached the friarwith respect.

  Father Damaso gazed at him in silence from head to foot. He tookthe letter which the young man handed to him and read it apparentlywithout understanding it, for he asked him:

  "And who are you?"

  "Alfonso Linares, the god-son of your brother-in-law," stammered theyoung man.

  Father Damaso leaned back and examined the young man again. His facebrightened up and he rose to his feet.

  "And so you are the god-son of little Charles!" he exclaimed. "Comehere and let me embrace you. It was some days ago that I received yourletter. So it is you! I did not know you--but that is easily explained,for you were not yet born when I left the country. I never knew you."

  And Father Damaso stretched out his robust arms to the young man whoblushed, either from shame or suffocation. Father Damaso seemed tohave completely forgotten his grief.

  After the first moments of effusion had passed, and questions had beenasked about Carlicos, as he called little Charles, Father Damaso asked:

  "Well. What does Carlicos want me to do for you?"

  "I believe he says something in the letter," stammered Linares again.

  "In the letter? Let us see. 'Tis so! And he wants me to get you ajob and a wife! Hm! Employment--employment: that is easy. Do you knowhow to read and write?"

  "I have graduated in law from the Central University."

  "Carambas! So you are a pettifogger? Well, you don't look it--you lookmore like a young gentleman. But so much the better! But to find youa wife--hm! hm! a wife."

  "Father, I am not in a hurry about it," said Linares, confused.

  But Father Damaso began to walk from one end of the room to the other,muttering: "A wife! A wife!"

  His face by this time was no longer sad, nor was it cheerful. Itexpressed the greatest seriousness and he seemed to bemeditating. Father Salvi surveyed the scene from a distance.

  "I did not believe that it could give me such pain," murmured FatherDamaso in a mournful voice. "But of two evils the lesser."

  And raising his voice and approaching Linares, he said:

  "Come here, my boy! We will speak with Santiago."

  Linares turned pale and allowed himself to be led along by the priest,who was deep in thought.

  Then it was Father Salvi's turn to walk up and down the room and hedid so, meditating, as was his custom.

  A voice bidding him good morning stopped his monotonous tread. Heraised his head and his eyes met Lucas, who saluted him humbly.

  "What do you want?" asked the eyes of the curate.

  "Father, I am the brother of the man who was killed on the day ofthe fiesta," replied Lucas, in a tearful tone.

  Father Salvi stepped back.

  "And what of it?" he muttered, in an unintelligible voice.

  Lucas made an effort to weep, and dried his eyes with his handkerchief.

  "Father," said he, crying, "I have been to Crisostomo's house to askhim for indemnity. At first, he received me with kicks, saying thathe would not pay anything, since he had run the risk of being killedthrough the fault of my dear, unfortunate brother. Yesterday, I wentto talk with him again, but he had already left for Manila, leavingme for charity's sake five hundred pesos for my poor brother--fivehundred pesos--ah! Father."

  The curate listened to the first part of his story with surprise andattention, but slowly there appeared on his lips a smile--a smileof such contempt and sarcasm at the comedy that was being played,that if Lucas had seen it he would have fled in all haste.

  "And what do you want now?" he asked, turning his back to him.

  "Alas! Father, for love of God tell me what I ought to do. Father,you have always given good advice."

  "Who has told you that? You do not live here."

  "But the whole province knows you, Father!"

  Father Salvi went up to him with his eyes full of anger and, motioningto the street, said to the frightened Lucas:

  "Go to your house and give thanks to Don Crisostomo that he has notsent you to jail. Get away from here."

  Forgetting his role, Lucas muttered:

  "Well, I thought----"

  "Out of here!" cried Father Salvi, in a nervous tone.

  "I want to see Father Damaso."

  "Father Damaso is busy. Out of here!" ordered the curate, in animperative tone, again.

  Lucas went down the stairs murmuring: "He is another. How poorly hepays! He who pays better...."

  The voice of the curate had reached the ears of all in the house,even Father Damaso, Captain Tiago and Linares.

  "An insolent beggar who came to ask alms and doesn't want to work,"said Father Salvi, taking his hat and cane and starting toward theconvent.