CHAPTER XXXIX
MARIA CLARA IS MARRIED.
Captain Tiago was very happy. During all this terrible time nobodyhad busied himself with him. They had not arrested him, nor had theysubmitted him to excommunications, court trials, electrical machines,continual hot foot baths in subterranean places, or to any of theother punishments which are well known to certain people who callthemselves civilized. He had returned to his Manila house. Those whohad been the Captain's friends--for he had renounced all his Filipinofriends from the moment that they were suspected by the Government--hadalso returned to their homes after some days of vacation spent inthe Government buildings. The Governor General had himself orderedthese people to leave their possessions, for he had not thought itfitting that they should remain in them during the great danger.
Captain Tiago was overflowing with gratitude, but he did not knowexactly to whom he was indebted for such signal favors. Aunt Isabelattributed the miracle to the Virgin of Antipolo, to the Virgin of theRosary, or at least to the Virgin of Carmen. The least that she wouldconcede was that it was due to Our Lady of Corea. According to theAunt, the miracle was certainly due to one of these Virgins. CaptainTiago did not deny that it was a miracle, but he added:
"I do not believe, Isabel, that the Virgin of Antipolo could havedone it alone. My friends have aided in it; my future son-in-law,Senor Linares has, as you know, joked with Senor Antonio Canovashimself, whose portrait we saw in 'Illustracion.'"
And the good man could not suppress a smile every time that he heardany important news about the event. And there was good reason forit. It was whispered about that Ibarra was going to be hanged; that,even if many proofs had been lacking, at last one had appeared whichcould confirm the accusation; and that skilled workmen had declaredthat, as a matter of fact, the work for the school-house could passfor a fort or a fortification. Even if defective in some parts, thatwas as much as could be expected from ignorant Indians. These rumorsquieted the Captain and made him smile.
Just as the Captain and his cousin, Aunt Isabel, were of differentopinions about the miracle, so, too, the other friends of the familywere divided into different parties--those who followed the miraclemonger, and those who followed the Government. The latter party,however, was quite insignificant. The miracle mongers were sub-dividedinto other factions: the Sacristan Mayor of Binondo, the woman whosold the wax candles, and the chief of one of the brotherhoods,all saw the hand of God in the miracle, moved by the Virgin of theRosary. The Chinese candle maker, who provided the Captain wheneverhe went on a pilgrimage to Antipolo, was saying as he sat fanninghimself and wiggling his foot:
"What for you b'long foolish? Thisee belong Mergin Antipolo. She cando muchy more: others, no can do. No b'long plopper say pidgin b'longother man."
Captain Tiago held the Chinaman in great estimation and made him passfor a prophet and doctor. Examining the hand of his deceased wife inthe sixth month of her pregnancy, he had prophesied:
"If thisee one no b'long man, and no go dead side, will b'long berygood woman."
And so it was that Maria Clara came to this earth and fulfilled theChinaman's prophecy.
Captain Tiago, being a prudent and timid person, could not decide thequestion of the miracle as easily as the Trojan Paris. He could notgive preference to one of the Virgins for fear of offending some otherof them, a thing which might bring about grave results. "Prudence,"he said to himself. "Be prudent! Let us not lose all now."
He was in the midst of these doubts when the party in favor of theGovernment, or the Governmental party, arrived, viz., Dona Victorina,Don Tiburcio, and Linares.
Dona Victorina did all the talking for the three men and for herselfalso. She mentioned the visits which Linares had made to the GovernorGeneral, and repeatedly brought out the benefits derived from havinga relative of categoria.
For some days past, she had been trying to be Andalusian by suppressingthe d in all words and in changing the s to z. No one could get theidea out of her head; she would prefer to lose her front curls first.
"Yes," she said, in speaking of Ibarra. "That fellow merits very wellall that he is going to get. I told you so when I saw him for the firsttime. I told you he was a filibustero. What did the General tell you,cousin? What did he say? What news did you give him about Ibarra?"
Seeing that the cousin hesitated in his reply, she went on, directingher words to Captain Tiago.
"Believe me, if they convict him, as is to be hoped, it will bethrough my cousin."
"Senora, Senora!" protested Linares.
But she did not give him any time.
"Oh, what a diplomat you have turned out to be! But we all know thatyou are the adviser of the Governor General, that he could not livewithout you. Ah! What a pleasure to see you, Clarita."
Maria Clara seemed paler than ever, although she was now quiterecovered from her illness. Sadly smiling, she approached and greetedDona Victorina with a formal kiss.
After the customary words had been exchanged, Dona went on with herfalse Andalusian.
"We came to visit you. You have been saved by the efforts of yourfriends,"--looking significantly at Linares.
"God has protected my father," said the girl, in a low voice.
"Yes, Clarita, but the time for miracles has passed long ago. Aswe Spaniards say: 'Have no trust in the Virgin and save yourselfby running.'"
"The--th--the ot--ot--other way," said the doctor, correcting herproverbial quotation.
Captain Tiago, who had not yet found opportunity to say a word,ventured to ask her, giving much attention to her reply: "So you,Dona Victorina, believe that the Virgin...?"
"That is precisely what we came for, to speak to you about the Virgin,"replied she, indicating Maria Clara. "We have a matter to talk over."
The maiden understood that she ought to retire. She sought an excuseand went away, supporting herself on the furniture as she walked along.
What was said in the conference which followed was so low and meanthat we prefer to omit it. It is sufficient for us to say that whenthey took their leave all were happy, and that Captain Tiago afterwardsaid to his cousin:
"Isabel, send word to the restaurant that we are going to give afiesta to-morrow. You get Maria ready to be married in a short time."
Aunt Isabel looked at him, surprised.
"You will see! When Senor Linares is our son-in-law all the palaceswill be open to us. They will be envying us; they will all diewith envy."
And thus it was that at eight o'clock on the following evening,Captain Tiago's house was again full of guests, only that this timethe men whom he had invited were either Spaniards or Chinamen, whilethe fair sex was represented by Spaniards born in the Peninsula orin the Philippines.
The larger part of our acquaintances was there: Father Sibyla,Father Salvi and several other Franciscans and Dominicans, the oldlieutenant of the Civil Guard, Senor Guevara, more melancholy thanever; the alferez, who related his battle for the thousandth time,feeling himself head and shoulders above everybody and a veritableDon Juan de Austria, now a lieutenant with the rank of commander; DeEspadana, who looked at the former with respect and fear and avoidedhis glance; and the indignant Dona Victorina. Linares was not yetpresent, for, being a very important personage, it was fitting thathe should arrive later than the others.
Maria Clara, the subject of all the gossip, was the center of agroup of women. She had greeted and received them ceremoniously,but did not throw off her air of sadness.
"Psh!" said one of the girls. "A little stuck-up!"
"A cute little thing," replied another, "but he might have selectedsome one of a more intelligent appearance."
"It's the money; he's a good-looking fellow and sells himself for agood price."
In another part of the room they were talking like this:
"Marry, when her former betrothed is about to be hanged!"
"I call that prudence; to have one on hand as a substitute."
Possibly the young maiden heard these re
marks as she sat in a chairnear by, arranging a tray of flowers, for her hand was seen to tremble,she turned pale and bit her lips a number of times.
The conversation among the men was in a loud tone. Naturally, theywere conversant with the recent happenings. All were talking, evenDon Tiburcio, with the exception of Father Sibyla, who maintained adisdainful silence.
"I have heard that Your Reverence leaves the town, Father Salvi?" askedthe newly made lieutenant, now made more amiable by the star onhis sleeve.
"I have nothing more to do now in San Diego. I am permanently settledin Manila now ... and you?"
"I also leave the town," replied the former alferez, straighteningup. "The Government needs me to take command of a flying column toclear the provinces of filibusteros."
Friar Salvi looked him over from head to foot, and turned his backto him completely.
"Is it yet known for a certainty what is to become of the leader ofthe revolutionists?" asked a Government employee.
"Are you referring to Crisostomo Ibarra?" asked another. "What is mostprobable and most just is that he be hanged, as those were in '72."
"He will be exiled," said the old lieutenant, dryly.
"Exiled! Nothing more than exiled! But it will be a perpetualexile!" exclaimed several at the same time.
"If that young fellow," Lieutenant Guevara went on to say in a loudvoice, "had been more cautious; if he had trusted certain people lesswith whom he had correspondence; and if the officers had not madea subtle interpretation of what was written--if it had not been forall of this, that young man would surely have gone free."
This statement by the old lieutenant and the tone of his voice produceda great surprise in the room. Those who heard it did not know whatto say. Father Salvi looked in another direction, perhaps so as notto meet the dark look which the old man directed toward him. MariaClara dropped her flowers and sat motionless. Father Sibyla, the onewho knew how to keep silent, appeared to be the only one who knewhow to ask questions.
"Are you referring to the letters, Senor Guevara?"
"I am telling what the defendant's attorney told me. He has taken upthe case with zeal and interest. Aside from some ambiguous lines whichthis young man wrote to a young woman before departing for Europe,they have found no proof to sustain the accusation. In these few lines,the officers saw a plan and threat against the Government."
"And what about the declaration made by the bandit before he died?"
"That statement has proved of no account, since, according to thebandit himself, the conspirators never had communicated with the youngman, but only with one, Lucas, who was Ibarra's enemy, as they havebeen able to prove, and who committed suicide, perhaps from remorse. Ithas been proved that the papers found in the possession of the deadman were forged, since the handwriting was like that of Ibarra sevenyears ago, but not like that of to-day--a fact which shows that itwas copied from the letter used as evidence against him. Besides,his attorney says that if Ibarra had not admitted the genuineness ofthe letter, he would have been able to do much for him; but, at thesight of it, the young man turned pale, lost heart and acknowledgedthat he had written it."
"Do you say," asked a Franciscan, "that the letter was directed toa young woman? How did it get into the hands of the officers?"
The lieutenant did not reply. He looked for a moment at Friar Salviand then walked off, twisting nervously the end of his grey beard. Inthe meantime, others were commenting something like this:
"There you see the hand of God!" said one. "Even the women hate him."
"He had his house burned, thinking that he could thus save himself. Buthe did not reckon with his host--that is, with his querida, [23] withhis babai," [23] added another, smiling. "That is God's work. Santiagoprotects Spain!"
The old army officer stopped and approached Maria Clara. She waslistening to the conversation, immovable in her seat. The flowerswere at her feet.
"You are a very prudent young woman," said the old lieutenant to herin a low voice. "You have done well to hand over the letter.... Inthis way you will assure yourself of a peaceful future."
With dull eyes, and biting her lips, she looked at him as he walkedaway. Luckily, Aunt Isabel passed her at this moment. Maria Clarasummoned enough strength to catch hold of her aunt's dress.
"Aunt," she murmured.
"What is the matter with you?" asked the latter, frightened, as shesaw the young woman's face.
"Take me to my room!" she begged, clinging to the arm of the oldwoman in order to raise herself to her feet.
"Are you sick, my child? You seem to have lost all your strength. Whatis the matter with you?"
"A little sick to my stomach ... the crowd in the sala ... so muchlight ... I need to rest. Tell father that I am going to sleep."
"You are cold! Do you want some tea?"
Maria Clara shook her head negatively. She closed the door of her roomand locked it, and, her strength failing her, she fell to the floor,at the feet of an image, weeping and sobbing:
"Mother, mother, my mother!"
The moonlight was shining through the open window and door which ledout upon the azotea.
The orchestra continued playing gay waltzes. The laughter and the humof conversation could be heard in her bedroom. A number of times herfamily, Aunt Isabel, Dona Victorina, and even Linares, knocked at herdoor, but Maria Clara did not move. There was a rattle in her throat.
Hours passed. The pleasures of the table ended, and dancingfollowed. Her little candle burned out, but the maiden lay quietlyon the floor, the rays of moonlight shining upon her at the foot ofan image of the Mother of Jesus.
Gradually the noises in the house died away, the lights were put out,and Aunt Isabel again knocked at the door of her room.
"Let us leave her; she is sleeping," said her aunt. "At her age,with nothing to trouble her, she sleeps like a corpse."
When all was again silent, Maria arose slowly and glanced aroundher. She saw the azotea and the small climbing plants bathed in themelancholy light of the moon.
"A peaceful future! Sleeping like a corpse!" she murmured in a lowvoice, and turned toward the azotea.
The city was quiet. Only the noise of an occasional carriage passingover the wooden bridge could be heard in the stillness of the night,while the tranquil waters of the river were reflecting the moonlight.
The maiden raised her eyes to the pure, sapphire-colored sky. Slowlyshe took off her rings, her hair-combs, her earrings, and herbreast-pin, and placing them upon the balustrade of the azotea shelooked out toward the river.
A banca, loaded with rice grass, stopped at the foot of the landing onthe bank of the river at the rear of the house. One of the two men whowere propelling the boat went up the stone steps, leaped over the wall,and a few seconds afterward, steps were heard coming up the azotea.
Maria Clara saw him stop on discovering her, but it was for only amoment. The man advanced slowly and at about three steps from themaiden, stopped again. Maria Clara stepped back.
"Crisostomo!" she gasped, full of terror.
"Yes, I am Crisostomo!" replied the young man, in a grave voice. "Anenemy, a man who has good reason to hate me, Elias, has helped meout of the prison into which my friends had thrown me."
Silence followed these words. Maria Clara bowed her head and allowedboth her hands to drop at her side.
Ibarra continued:
"Beside the dead body of my mother, I swore to make you happy,whatever might be my destiny. You can break your oath; she was notyour mother. But I, who am her son, I hold her memory sacred, and,running great risk, I have come here to fulfill my oath. Fortunepermits me to speak with you personally. Maria, we shall not see eachother again. You are young and perhaps some day your conscience mayaccuse you.... I come to tell you, before leaving, that I forgiveyou. Now, may you be happy, and good-bye!"
Ibarra tried to leave, but the maiden stopped him.
"Crisostomo!" she said. "God has sent you to save me fromdesperation.... Hear me and judge
me!"
Ibarra wished to withdraw gently from her.
"I have not come," said he, "to call you to account.... I have cometo give you peace."
"I do not want the peace which you give me. I will give myselfpeace. You despise me, and your contempt will make my life bittertill death."
Ibarra saw the poor girl's desperation, and asked her what she desired.
"That you may believe that I have always loved you."
Crisostomo smiled bitterly.
"Ah! You doubt me, you doubt the friend of your infancy, who hasnever hidden a single thought from you," exclaimed she in grief. "Iunderstand you. When you know my history, the history which theyrevealed to me during my illness, you will pity me and you will nolonger answer my grief with that bitter smile. Why did you not letme die in the hands of my ignorant doctor? You and I would have beenhappier then."
Maria Clara rested a moment and then continued:
"You have doubted me; you have wished my mother to pardon me. Duringone of those nights of suffering, a man revealed to me the name ofmy true father, and forbade me to love you ... unless my true fathershould pardon you for the offense you committed against him."
Ibarra recoiled and looked in terror at the maiden.
"Yes," she continued. "This man told me that he could not permit ourmarriage, since his conscience would not allow it, and he would findhimself compelled to publish the truth at the risk of causing a greatscandal, because my father is ..."
And she whispered a name in the young man's ear in a scarcely audiblevoice.
"What was I to do? Ought I to sacrifice to my love the memory ofmy mother, the honor of the man who innocently supposes himself myfather, and the good name of my real father? Could I do that withoutyou despising me for it?"
"But the proof? Have you proof? You need proof!" exclaimed Crisostomo,deeply agitated.
The maiden drew two letters from her bosom.
"Two of my mother's letters: two letters written in remorse beforeI was born. Take them, read them and you will see how she cursedme and desired my death, which my father in vain tried to cause bydrugs. These letters were forgotten in the house where he lived;a man found them and kept them. They would only give them to me inexchange for your letter ... to make certain, as they said, that Iwould not marry you without the consent of my father. From the timethat I began to carry them in my bosom instead of your letter, myheart was chilled. I sacrificed you, I sacrificed my love.... Whatwould not a person do for a dead mother and two living fathers? DidI suspect the use to which they were going to put your letter?"
Ibarra was prostrated. Maria Clara went on:
"What was there left for me? Could I tell you who was my father? CouldI ask you to seek the pardon of him who had so much desired my death,and who made your father suffer? There was nothing left for me but tokeep the secret to myself, and to die suffering.... Now, my friend,you know the sad history of your poor Maria. Will you still have thatcontemptuous smile for her?"
"Maria, you are a saint."
"I am happy now that you believe me."
"However," added the young man, changing his tone. "I have heard thatyou are about to marry."
"Yes," sobbed the maiden. "My father asked this sacrifice of me. Hehas fed me and loved me, and it was not his duty. I pay him this debtof gratitude which I owe him by assuring him peace through this newrelative, but ..."
"But?"
"I shall not forget the oaths of fidelity which I made to you."
"What do you think of doing?" asked Ibarra, trying to read her eyes.
"The future is obscure and Destiny is hidden in darkness. I do notknow what I am to do; but I know that I can love only once, and thatwithout love I never will belong to any one. And you, what is tobecome of you?"
"I am nothing but a fugitive.... I am fleeing. In a very short time,they will discover my escape, Maria...."
Maria Clara clasped her arms about her lover's neck, kissed his lipsrepeatedly, hugged him, and then, abruptly breaking away from him,said:
"Flee! flee! Adios!"
Ibarra looked at her, his eyes sparkling, but she motioned and hewent away, staggering like a drunken man. Again he leaped over thewall and entered the banca. Maria Clara, leaning on the door casing,watched him depart.
Elias took off his hat and bowed profoundly.