CHAPTER XXXVII
VAE VICTIS!
Civil Guards were passing with a sinister air to and fro in front ofthe door of the tribunal, threatening with the butts of their gunsthe daring boys who stood on tip-toe or raised each other up in orderto look through the grates in the windows.
The sala did not present that same joyful aspect as it did when theprogram for the festival was being discussed. It was gloomy and thesilence was almost death-like. The Civil Guards and the cuaderilleroswho were occupying the room scarcely spoke and the few words thatthey did pronounce were in a low tone. Around the table sat thedirectorcillo, two writers and some soldiers scribbling papers. Thealferez walked from one side to the other, looking from time to timeferociously toward the door. Themistocles after the battle of Salamiscould not have shown more pride at the Olympic games. Dona Consolacionyawned in one corner of the room, and disclosed her black palate andher crooked teeth. Her cold and evil look was fixed on the door ofthe jail, covered with indecent pictures. Her husband, made amiableby the victory, had yielded to her request to be allowed to witnessthe interrogation and, perhaps, the tortures which were to follow. Thehyena smelled the dead body, she licked her chops and was wearied atthe delay in the punishment.
The gobernadorcillo's chair, that large chair under the portrait ofHis Majesty, was empty and seemed destined for some other person.
At nearly nine o'clock, the curate, pale and with eyebrows knit,arrived.
"Well, you haven't made any one wait!" said the alferez sarcasticallyto the friar.
"I would have preferred not to be present," replied Father Salvi,in a low voice, without taking notice of the bitter tone.... "I amvery nervous."
"As no one came, I decided that, in order not to leave the chairempty, your presence.... You already know that the prisoners are toleave town this afternoon."
"Young Ibarra and the teniente mayor?"
The alferez pointed toward the jail.
"Eight are in there," said he. "Bruno died last night at midnight,but his declaration has been obtained."
The curate saluted Dona Consolacion, who responded with a yawn and an"aah!" The friar took the big chair under the picture of His Majesty.
"We can begin," said he.
"Bring out the two who are in the stocks!" ordered the alferez in hismost terrifying voice. And turning to the curate, he added, changinghis tone:
"They are fastened in the stocks with two holes vacant!"
For those who are interested in instruments of torture, we will saythat the stocks is one of the most innocent. The holes in which arefastened the legs of the prisoner are a little more or less thana palm apart. Leaving two holes vacant, and putting the prisoner'slegs in the holes on either side, would make the position strained,so that the ankles would suffer peculiarly and the lower extremitiesbe stretched apart more than a yard. It does not kill instantly,as may well be imagined.
The turnkey, followed by four soldiers, drew back the bolt and openedthe door. A nauseating odor, and the thick, damp air escaped from thedense darkness of the prison and, at the same time, groans and sighswere heard. A soldier lighted a match, but the flame was extinguishedin that foul, vitiated atmosphere, and they had to wait till the airwas renewed.
In the vague light of a candle, several human forms could bediscerned. They were men, some of whom locked their arms around theirknees and hid their heads between them, others were lying down, withtheir mouths to the ground, some standing, and some leaning againstthe wall. A blow and a creaking sound was heard, accompanied by oaths;the stocks were being opened.
Dona Consolacion's body was bent forward, the muscles of her neckwere rigid, her eyes riveted to the half open door.
Between the soldiers came out Tarsilo, the brother of Bruno. He worehandcuffs. His torn clothes disclosed well-developed muscles. Hiseyes were fixed insolently on the alferez's wife.
"This is the one who defended himself most bravely, and who orderedhis companions to flee," said the alferez to Father Salvi.
Behind came another miserable sight, a man crying and weeping likea child. He was limping and his pantaloons were stained with blood.
"Mercy, senor, have mercy! I will not enter the cuartel yard again,"he cried.
"He is a crafty fellow," said the alferez, speaking to the curate. "Hewanted to flee, but had received a flesh wound."
"What is your name?" asked the alferez, speaking to Tarsilo.
"Tarsilo Alasigan."
"What did Don Crisostomo promise you for attacking the cuartel?"
"Don Crisostomo has never communicated with us."
"Don't deny it! You wanted to surprise us for him!"
"You are mistaken. You whipped our father to death. We avenged himand nothing more. Look for your two soldiers!"
The alferez looked at the sergeant, surprised.
"They are at the bottom of that precipice. We threw them thereyesterday. There they will rot. Now kill me! You will know nothingmore."
Silence and general surprise.
"You are not going to tell who were your accomplices?" said thealferez in a threatening manner and brandishing a whip.
A scornful smile curled the lips of the culprit.
The alferez conferred for some minutes with the curate in a lowvoice. Then turning to the soldiers, he ordered:
"Take him to where the dead bodies are!"
In a corner of the yard, upon an old wagon, were five bodies closetogether and half covered by a filthy piece of torn matting. A soldieron guard was pacing up and down, and constantly spitting.
"Do you recognize them?" asked the alferez, lifting the matting.
Tarsilo did not respond. He saw the dead body of Pedro, with twoothers; one, his own brother, riddled with bayonet wounds, and theother, Lucas, with the rope still around his neck. His look becamegloomy and a sigh seemed to escape from his breast.
"Do you know them?" they asked him.
Tarsilo remained silent.
There was a whistling sound and the whip came down across his back. Hetrembled, and his muscles contracted. The lashes were repeated,but Tarsilo continued impassive.
"Let them whip him till they cut him to pieces or till he makes adeclaration," cried the alferez, exasperated.
"Speak then!" said the directorcillo to him. "They will surelykill you."
They led him back to the sala of the tribunal, where the other prisonerwas invoking God, grating his teeth and shaking on his legs.
"Do you know this man?" asked Father Salvi.
"This is the first time I have ever seen him," replied Tarsilo,looking with a certain pity on the other.
The alferez gave him a cuff with his fist and kicked him.
"Tie him to the bench!"
Without taking off the bloody handcuffs, he was fastened to the woodenbench. The unhappy fellow looked about him as if in search of some one,and his eyes fell on Dona Consolacion. He smiled sardonically. Thosepresent were surprised and followed his glance and saw the senora. Shewas biting her lips.
"I have never seen an uglier woman," exclaimed Tarsilo amid thegeneral silence. "I prefer to lie down on this bench as I am doingthan to lie by her side, like the alferez."
The Muse turned pale.
"You are going to whip me to death, alferez," he continued, "butto-night I will be avenged by your woman."
"Gag him!" shouted the alferez, furious and trembling with rage.
It seemed as though Tarsilo had wanted the gag, for when he had itin his mouth, his eyes gleamed with a ray of satisfaction.
At a signal from the alferez a guard, armed with a whip, began hiscruel task. The whole body of Tarsilo shrank. A groan, suppressed andprolonged, could be heard in spite of the rag which stopped up hismouth. He lowered his head. His clothes were being stained with blood.
Father Salvi, pale and with a wild look, rose to his feet laboriously,made a sign with his hand and left the sala with vacillating steps. Inthe street, he saw a girl, leaning her back against the wall, rigid,immovable,
listening attentively, looking into space, her marble-likehands extended along the old wall. The sun was shining full uponher. She was counting, it seemed without breathing, the sharp blowsand listening to that heart-rending groan. She was Tarsilo's sister.
In the meantime, the scene was continuing in the sala. The unfortunatefellow, overcome with pain, had become silent and waited for hispunishers to tire. At last, the soldier breathless, let fall hisarm. The alferez, pale with wrath and astonishment, made a signalfor them to unloose him.
Dona Consolacion then arose and whispered something into her husband'sear. He nodded his head, signifying that he understood.
"To the well with him!" said he.
The Filipinos know what that means. In Tagalog they call ittimbain. We do not know who could have been the inventor of thismethod of punishment, but we are of the opinion that he must have livedlong ago. In the middle of the tribunal yard there was a picturesquestone-wall, roughly made out of cobble stones, around a well. A rusticapparatus of bamboo in the form of a lever serves to draw out the vile,dirty and bad smelling water. Broken dishes, refuse and all sorts offilth collected there, since the well was a common receptacle foreverything that the people threw away or found useless. An objectwhich fell into the place, no matter how good it may have been, wasthereafter surely lost. However, the well was never closed up. Attimes, prisoners were condemned to go down and make it deeper, notbecause it was thought that the work would be useful in any way,but because the work was so difficult. If a prisoner went down inthe well once, he invariably contracted a fever, from which he died.
Tarsilo contemplated all the preparations of the soldiers with a firmlook. He was very pale and his lips were trembling or murmuring aprayer. The haughtiness of his desperation seemed to have disappeared,or at least to have weakened. A number of times he bent his head,fixed his eyes on the ground, resigned to his suffering.
They took him to one side of the stone wall. Dona Consolacion followedsmiling. The unfortunate wretch glanced enviously toward the pile ofdead bodies, and a sigh escaped from his breast.
"Speak now!" said the directorcillo again. "They will certainly drownyou. At least, die without having suffered so much."
"When you come out of this, you will die," said a cuaderillero.
They took the gag out of his mouth and hung him by his feet. He hadto go down head first and remain under the water some time just likea bucket, except that a man is left under the water a longer time.
The alferez went to look for a watch that he might count the minutes.
In the meantime, Tarsilo was hanging, his long hair waving in theair and his eyes half closed.
"If you are Christians, if you have hearts," he begged, in a low voice,"let me down rapidly and make my head strike against the wall that Imay die. God would reward such a good deed.... Perhaps some day youwill be in the same straits as I am now."
The alferez returned and with watch in hand witnessed the descent.
"Slowly, slowly!" cried Dona Consolacion following the poor fellowwith her eyes. "Be careful!"
The pole was being lowered slowly. Tarsilo rubbed againstthe projecting stones and the dirty plants which grew in thecrevices. Then, the pole ceased to move. The alferez was countingthe seconds.
"Up!" he ordered dryly, at the end of a half minute.
The silvery harmony of the drops of water falling back into the well,announced the return of the unfortunate man to the light. As theweight on the end of the lever was heavy, he came up quickly. Therough pieces of stone and pebbles, torn loose from the walls, fellwith splashes to the bottom.
His face and hair full of filthy mud, his body wet and dripping,he appeared again in the sight of the silent crowd. The wind madehim shiver with cold.
"Do you want to make a declaration?" they asked him.
"Take care of my sister!" the unhappy one murmured, looking at thecuaderillero, with supplication.
The bamboo pole creaked again, and again the condemned mandisappeared. Dona Consolacion observed that the water remainedstill. The alferez counted a minute.
When Tarsilo came up again, his face was livid and his featurescontracted. He glanced at those standing around and kept open hisbloodshot eyes.
"Will you make a declaration?" asked the alferez again, with vexation.
Tarsilo shook his head and again they let him down. His eyelids werealmost closed and his eyes were gazing at the white clouds floatingin the heavens. He bent his neck to keep sight of the light of day,but he was soon submerged in the water. That filthy curtain closedfrom him the sight of the world.
A minute passed. The Muse saw large bubbles of air come up to thesurface of the water.
"He is thirsty," said she, laughing.
The water was again smooth.
This time a minute and a half had passed when the alferez gavethe signal.
Tarsilo's features were no longer contracted. The half opened lidsshowed the white of his eyes. Muddy water, clotted with blood,ran out of his mouth. The cool wind was blowing, but his body nolonger shivered.
Those present, pale and terrified, looked at each other in silence. Thealferez made a signal for them to take him down from where he washanging, and stepped aside for a few moments. Dona Consolacion anumber of times applied the lighted end of her cigar to the bare legsof Tarsilo, but his body did not quiver. It put out the light.
"He has asphyxiated himself," murmured a cuaderillero. "See how histongue is turned, as if he wanted to swallow it."
The other prisoner, trembling and perspiring, contemplated thescene. Like a madman he looked about him.
The alferez ordered the directorcillo to question him.
"Senor, Senor," he groaned. "I will tell you all that you wish."
"Good. Let us see! What is your name?"
"Andong, Senor!"
"Bernardo ... Leonardo ... Ricardo ... Educardo. Gerardo ... or what?"
"Andong, Senor," repeated the imbecile.
"Call it Bernardo or whatever you please," said the alferez, decidednot to bother more about it.
"What family name?"
The man looked at him frightened.
"What's your name? What do you add to the name Andong?"
"Ah, Senor! Andong Medio-tonto (half-fool), Senor."
Those standing around could not resist a laugh. The alferez himselfstopped short.
"What is your business?"
"Cocoanut tree pruner, Senor, and servant for my mother-in-law."
"Who ordered you to attack the cuartel?"
"Nobody, Senor."
"What's that; nobody? Don't you lie or we will put you in the well. Whoordered you to do it? Speak the truth."
"That's the truth, Senor."
"Who?"
"Who?"
"I ask you who ordered you to revolt."
"What revolt, Senor?"
"That one last night, when you were in the tribunal yard."
"Ah, Senor!" exclaimed Andong, blushing.
"Who was to blame for that?"
"My mother-in-law, Senor."
A laugh of surprise followed this reply. The alferez stopped andlooked sharply at the simple peasant, who believed that his words hadproduced a good effect. More animated, he was about to continue whenthe crack of a whip cut him short.
"To the jail!" ordered the alferez. "This afternoon, send him tothe capital."