CHAPTER XL
THE PURSUIT ON THE LAKE.
"Listen, Senor, to my plan," said Elias, as they directed the bancatoward San Miguel. "I will for the present hide you in the house ofmy friend in Mandaluyong. I will bring you all your money, which Ihave saved and kept for you at the foot of the old baliti tree, inthe mysterious tomb of your grandfather. You shall leave the country."
"To go to a strange land?" interrupted Ibarra.
"To live in peace the remaining days of your life. You have friendsin Spain, you are rich, you can get yourself pardoned. By all means,a foreign land is better for you than your own country."
Crisostomo did not reply. He meditated in silence.
Just then they reached the Pasig and the banca was headed up thestream. Over the Bridge of Spain a horse-man was galloping at highspeed, and a prolonged, sharp whistle was heard.
"Elias," replied Ibarra, "you owe your misfortunes to my family;you have saved my life twice; I owe you not only gratitude, but alsorestitution of your fortune. You advise me to go to a foreign landand live; then come with me and we will live like brothers. Here,you, too, are miserable."
Elias sadly replied:
"Impossible! It is true that I can neither love nor be happy inmy country; but I can suffer and die in it, and perhaps die forit; that would be something. Let my country's misfortune be my ownmisfortune. Since no noble thought unites us, and since our hearts donot beat in harmony at the mention of a single word, at least, let acommon misery unite me to my fellow countrymen; at least, let me weepwith them over our grief; let the same misery oppress all our hearts."
"Then why do you advise me to leave?"
"Because in other lands you can be happy, and I cannot; because youare not made to suffer, and because you would hate your country,if some day you should see the cause of your misfortune: and to hateone's own country is the greatest misery."
"You are unjust to me," exclaimed Ibarra, with bitter reproach. "Youforget that I have scarcely arrived here, and that I have alreadysought its welfare."
"Do not be offended, Senor. I am not reproaching you. Would to Godthat all might imitate you. But I do not ask for the impossible andyou should not be offended if I tell you that your heart deceivesyou. You love your country because your father has taught you tolove it; you love it because you had in it your love, your fortune,your youth; because it smiled on you, and because it has not until nowdone you an injustice. You love your country as we all love that whichmakes us happy. But, on that day when you see yourself poor, ragged,hungry, persecuted, denounced and betrayed by your very countrymen,on that day you will curse yourself, your country and all."
"Your words grieve me," said Ibarra, resentfully.
Elias bowed his head, meditated and replied:
"I wish to set you right, Senor, and to avoid a miserable future foryou. You remember the time when I was talking to you in this samebanca and under the light of the same moon. It was a month ago, a fewdays more or less. Then you were happy. The plea of the unfortunatesdid not reach you. You disdained their complaints because they werecomplaints from criminals. You gave ear to their enemies, and, inspite of my reasons and pleas, you put yourself on the side of theiroppressors. On you depended at that time whether I should turn criminalor allow my life to be taken in fulfillment of my sacred pledge. Godhas not permitted it, because the old chief of the bandits has beenkilled. A month has passed and now you think differently."
"You are right, Elias, but man is influenced by changes incircumstances. Then I was blind, and obstinate. What did I know? Nowmisfortune has torn the veil from my eyes. The solitude and misery ofmy prison life have taught me; now I see the horrible cancer whichis sapping the life of society, which hangs to its flesh and whichrequires violent extirpation. They have opened my eyes; they havemade me see the ulcer; they force me to become a criminal. I willbe a filibustero, but a true filibustero. I will call upon all theunfortunates, on all who have beating hearts within their breasts, onall who sent you to me.... No, no! I will not be criminal! It is nevera crime to fight for one's country! We for three centuries have giventhem our hand, we have asked them for their love, we have anxiouslywished to call them our brothers. How have they replied? With insultsand jests, denying us even the quality of being human beings. Thereis no God, there is no hope, there is no humanity. There is nothingbut the right of force."
Ibarra was excited. His whole body was trembling.
They passed by the Governor General's palace, and believed they sawagitation and movement among the guards.
"Have they discovered our flight?" murmured Elias. "Lie down, Senor,so that I can cover you up with the grass, for, when we cross overto the side of the river near the powder house, the sentry may besurprised at seeing two of us in this small banca."
As Elias had foreseen, the sentry stopped him and asked him where hecame from.
"From Manila, with grass for the magistrates and curates," replied he,imitating the accent of one from Pandakan.
A sergeant came out and was informed what was going on.
"Sulung!" (Go on!) said he. "I warn you not to receive any one inyour banca. A prisoner has just escaped. If you capture him and handhim over to me I will give you a good reward."
"All right, Senor. What is his description?"
"He wears a frock coat and speaks Spanish. With that much, be onthe watch!"
The banca went on. Elias turned his face and saw the shadow of thesentry, still standing on the bank of the river.
"We will lose several minutes," said he, in a low voice. "We willhave to go up the Beata river in order to carry out my pretense ofbeing from Pena Francia."
The town was sleeping in the light of the moon. Crisostomo arose toadmire the sepulchral peace of Nature. The river was narrow and itsbanks formed a plain planted with rice.
Elias threw the load on the bank, picked up a piece of bamboo anddrew out from under the grass in the banca some empty sacks. Theywent on rowing.
"You are master of your own will, Senor, and of your own future,"said he to Crisostomo, who kept silent. "But if you will permitme to offer a suggestion, I say to you: Look well at what you aregoing to do. You are about to start a war, for you have money,talent, and you will quickly find aid, for, unfortunately, manyare discontented. Furthermore, in this fight, which you are tobegin, those who are going to suffer most are the defenseless, theinnocent. The same sentiments which a month ago prompted me to cometo you and ask for reforms, are those which now move me to ask you toreflect. The country, Senor, is not thinking of separating itself fromthe mother country. It asks only a little liberty, a little justice,a little love. The discontented will assist you, the criminals and thedesperate, but the people will hold aloof. You are mistaken if, seeingeverything dark, you believe that the country is desperate. The countrysuffers, yes, but it still hopes, believe me, and will only rise inrevolt when it has lost patience; that is, when those who govern wishit--which is still far off. I myself would not follow you. I shallnever take recourse to these extreme remedies while I see hope in men."
"Then I will go without you!" replied Crisostomo, resolutely.
"Is it your firm decision?"
"Yes, my firm and only decision: I call to witness the memory of myfather! I cannot allow them to deprive me of peace and happiness withimpunity, I who have desired only my country's welfare, I who haverespected all and have suffered on account of a hypocritical religion,on account of love for my country. How have they responded to me? Byburying me in an infamous prison and by prostituting my fiancee. No,not to avenge myself would be a crime. It would be encouragingthem to commit new injustices. No! it would be cowardice, it wouldbe pusillanimity to weep and groan while there is life and vigor,when to insult and challenge are added scoffery and contemptuousridicule! I will arouse this ignorant people, I will make them seetheir misery--this people who do not think of each other as brothers,who are mere wolves devouring each other. I will tell them to riseagainst this oppression and appeal to the eterna
l right of mankindto conquer their liberty!"
"Innocent people will suffer."
"All the better! Can you lead me to the mountain?"
"Till you are safe!" replied Elias.
They again went up the Pasig. They spoke from time to time ofindifferent things.
"Santa Ana!" murmured Ibarra. "Do you recognize that house?"
They passed by the country house of the Jesuits.
"There I passed many happy and joyful years!" sighed Elias. "In my timewe used to come here every month ... then I was like the others. I hadfortune, family; I was dreaming and planning a future for myself. Inthose days I used to visit my sister in the neighboring convent. Shemade me a present of a piece of her own handiwork. A girl friend usedto accompany her, a beautiful girl. All has passed like a dream."
They remained silent till they arrived at Malapad-na-bato. Those whohave glided over the bosom of the Pasig on one of those magical nightswhen the moon pours forth its melancholy poetry from the pure blue ofthe sky, when the darkness hides the misery of men and silence drownsthe harsh accents of their voices, when Nature alone speaks--thosewho have seen such nights on the Pasig will understand the feelingswhich filled the hearts of both young men.
In Malapad-na-bato the carbineer was half asleep, and, seeing that thebanca was empty and offered no booty for him to seize, according tothe traditional custom of his corps and the use made of that position,he readily let them pass on.
Nor did the Civil Guard at Pasig suspect anything, and they werenot molested.
It was just beginning to dawn when they reached the lake, calm andsmooth as a gigantic mirror. The moon was growing dim and the Orientwas rosy with the tints of morning. At a distance, a mass of greycould be discerned advancing toward the banca.
"The falua (or Government steamboat) is coming," murmured Elias. "Liedown and I will cover you with these sacks."
The outline of the vessel became more clear and perceptible.
"She is putting in between the beach and us," observed Elias uneasily.
And then he changed the course of the banca a little, rowing towardBinangonan. To his great surprise he noticed that the falua was alsochanging its course, while a voice cried out to him.
Elias stopped and meditated. The shore of the lake was very far off,and they would soon be in the range of the rifles on the falua. Hethought of returning to the Pasig. His banca was swifter than thefalua. But fate was against him! Another boat was coming up thePasig, and they could see the helmets and shining bayonets of theCivil Guards.
"We are caught!" he murmured, turning pale.
He looked at his robust arms and taking the only course which remainedto him, he began to row with all his strength toward the Island ofTalim. In the meantime, the sun had risen.
The banca glided along rapidly. Elias saw some men standing up onthe falua, making signals to him.
"Do you know how to manage a banca?" he asked Ibarra.
"Yes; why?"
"Because we are lost if I do not leap into the water and make themlose the trail. They will follow me. I swim and dive well.... I willtake them away from you, and then you can save yourself."
"No; you remain and we will sell our lives dearly."
"Useless! We have no arms, and with those rifles they will kill uslike birds."
At that moment a chiss was heard in the water like the fall of a hotbody, and was followed immediately by a report.
"Do you see?" said Elias, putting his paddle in the banca. "We willsee each other again at the tomb of your grandfather on Nochebeuna(Christmas eve.) Save yourself."
"And you?"
"God has taken me through greater dangers."
Elias took off his camisa. A ball grazed his hands and the reportsounded out. Without being disturbed, he stretched out his hand toIbarra, who was still in the bottom of the boat. Then he arose andleaped into the water, pushing away the small craft with his foot.
A number of cries were heard. Soon at some distance the head of theyoung man appeared above the water as if to get breath, dropping outof sight at the next instant.
"There, there he is!" cried a number of voices, and the balls fromtheir rifles whistled again.
The falua and the other banca took up the chase. A light track of foammarked his course, every moment leading farther and farther away fromIbarra's banca, which drifted along as if abandoned. Every time thatthe swimmer raised his head to breathe the Civil Guards and the menon board the falua discharged their guns at him.
The pursuit continued. Ibarra's little banca was already far off. Theswimmer was approaching the shore of the lake and was now some fiftyyards distant from it. The rowers were already tired, but Elias wasnot, for his head often appeared above the water and each time in adifferent direction so as to disconcert his pursuers. No longer wasthere a light trail to betray the course of the diver. For the lasttime they saw him near the shore, some ten yards off, and they openedfire.... Then minutes and minutes passed. Nothing appeared again onthe tranquil surface of the lake.
Half an hour afterward one of the rowers pretended to have discoveredsigns of blood in the water near the shore, but his companions shooktheir heads in a manner which might mean either yes or no.
CHAPTER XLI
FATHER DAMASO EXPLAINS.
In vain the costly wedding gifts were heaped upon the table. Neitherthe diamonds in their blue velvet caskets, nor the embroidered pina,nor the pieces of silk had any attractions for Maria Clara. Themaiden looked at the paper which gave the account of Ibarra's death,drowned in the lake, but she neither saw nor read it.
Of a sudden, she felt two hands over her eyes. They held her fastwhile a joyous voice, Father Damaso's, said to her:
"Who am I? Who am I?"
Maria Clara jumped from her seat and looked at him with terror inher eyes.
"You little goose, were you frightened, eh? You were not expectingme? Well, I have come from the provinces to attend your wedding."
And coming up to her again with a smile of satisfaction, he stretchedout his hand to her. Maria Clara approached timidly and, raising itto her lips, kissed it.
"What is the matter with you, Maria?" asked the Franciscan, losinghis gay smile, and becoming very uneasy. "Your hand is cold, you arepale.... Are you ill, my little girl?"
And Father Damaso drew her up to him with a fondness of which no onewould have thought him capable. He grasped both the maiden's handsand gave her a questioning look.
"Haven't you any confidence in your godfather?" he asked in areproachful tone. "Come, sit down here and tell me your littletroubles, just as you used to do when you were a child, when youwanted wax-candles to make wax figures. You surely know that I havealways loved you.... I have never scolded you...."
Father Damaso's voice ceased to be brusque; its modulations were evencaressing. Maria Clara began to weep.
"Are you weeping, my child? Why are you weeping? Have you quarrelledwith Linares?"
Maria Clara covered her eyes with her hands.
"No! It is not he now!" cried the maiden.
Father Damaso looked at her full of surprise.
"Do you not want to entrust your secrets to me? Have I not alwaysmanaged to satisfy your smallest caprices?"
The young woman raised her eyes full of tears toward him. She lookedat him for some time, and then began to weep bitterly.
"Do not cry so, my child, for your tears pain me! Tell me yourtroubles. You will see how your godfather loves you."
Maria Clara approached him slowly and fell on her knees at hisfeet. Then raising her face, bathed in tears, she said to him in alow voice, scarcely audible:
"Do you still love me?"
"Child!"
"Then ... protect my father, and break off the marriage!"
Then she related her last interview with Ibarra, omitting the referenceto her birth.
Father Damaso could scarcely believe what he heard.
"While he lived," continued the maiden, "I intended to fight, to wait,to trus
t. I wanted to live to hear him spoken of ... but now that theyhave killed him, now there is no reason for my living and suffering."
She said this slowly, in a low voice, calmly and without a tear.
"But, you goose; isn't Linares a thousand times better than....?"
"When he was living, I could have married ... I was thinking of fleeingafterward ... my father wanted nothing more than the relative. Now thathe is dead, no other man will call me his wife.... While he lived,I could have debased myself and still had the consolation of knowingthat he existed and perhaps was thinking of me. Now that he is dead... the convent or the tomb."
Her voice had a firmness in its accent which took away Father Damaso'sjoy and set him to thinking.
"Did you love him so much as that?" he asked, stammering.
Maria Clara did not reply. Father Damaso bowed his head upon hisbreast and remained silent.
"My child!" he exclaimed, his voice breaking. "Forgive me for makingyou unhappy without knowing it. I was thinking of your future; Iwanted you to be happy. How could I permit you to marry a native;how could I see you an unhappy wife and a miserable mother? I couldnot get your love out of your head, and I opposed it with all mystrength. All that I have done has been for you, for you alone. Ifyou had become his wife, you would have wept afterward on accountof the condition of your husband, exposed to all kinds of vengeance,without any means of defense. As a mother, you would have wept overthe fortune of your sons; if you educated them, you would prepare asad future for them, you would have made them enemies of the Churchand would have seen them hanged or exiled; if you left them ignorant,you would have seen them oppressed and degraded. I could not consentto it! This is why I sought as a husband for you one who mightmake you the happy mother of sons born not to obey but to command,not to suffer but to punish. I knew that your friend was good frominfancy. I liked him as I had liked his father, but I hated them bothwhen I saw that they were going to make you unhappy, because I loveyou, I idolize you, I love you as my daughter. I have nothing dearerthan you. I have seen you grow. No hour passes but I think of you;I dream of you; you are my only joy."
And Father Damaso began to weep like a child.
"Well, then, if you love me do not make me eternally unhappy. He nolonger lives; I want to be a nun."
The old man rested his head on his hand.
"To be a nun, to be a nun!" he repeated. "You do not know, my child,the life, the misery, which is hidden behind the walls of theconvent. You do not know it! I prefer a thousand times to see youunhappy in the world than to see you unhappy in the cloister. Hereyour complaints can be heard, there you will have only the walls. Youare beautiful, very beautiful, and you were not born for it, you werenot born to be the bride of Christ! Believe me, my child, time willblot it all out. Later you will forget, you will love your husband... Linares."
"Either the convent or ... death!" repeated Maria Clara.
"The convent, the convent or death!" exclaimed Father Damaso. "Maria,I am already old, I will not be able to watch you or your happinessmuch longer.... Choose another course, seek another love, anotheryoung man, whoever he may be, but not the convent."
"The convent or death!"
"My God, my God!" cried the priest, covering his head with hishands. "Thou punisheth me. So be it! But watch over my child."
And turning to the young woman: "You want to be a nun? You shall beone. I do not want you to die."
Maria Clara took his two hands, clasped them in her own and kissedthem as she knelt.
"Godfather, my godfather!" she repeated.
Immediately, Father Damaso went out, sad, with drooping head andsighing.
"God, O God! Thou existeth, for Thou punisheth. But avenge Thyselfon me and do not harm the innocent. Save my child!"
NOTES
[1] Street in Manila.
[2] Archbishop and author of theological works.
[3] Roof of the first story used as a veranda.
[4] Petty governor, the highest local official.
[5] Trellis work made of reeds.
[6] Local commander of the Civil Guard.
[7] A narrow canoe.
[8] A drink made of honey and ginger.
[9] A light, early breakfast.
[10] A native fruit.
[11] A Chinese gambling game.
[12] A little white, pearl-like substance sometimes found in thecacao tree, which is supposed to be a lucky omen.
[13] Little mestizos or half breeds. Used in contempt.
[14] A reply which accords with the Spanish idea of politeness butrather ludicrously used in this instance.
[15] A popular Spanish song handed down from the time of Riego'suprising in Spain.
[16] Volunteer police.
[17] A wrong pronunciation of the Spanish Peninsula meaning Spain.
[18] A costly and rich wood like ebony.
[19] Certificate of identification required of all Filipinos underSpanish domination.
[20] Warning cry of a coachman, meaning "turn."
[21] Author here shows difficulty in establishing American sovereigntyover islands by military forces.
[22] A plant (Desmodium caresceus), the dry seeds of which cling tothe clothing.
[23] Both words mean mistress.
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends