Chapter Chapter 27 · Chapter XXVII

In the Twilight

In Capitan Tiago's house also great preparations had been made. We

know its owner, whose love of ostentation and whose pride as a

Manilan imposed the necessity of humiliating the provincials with his

splendor. Another reason, too, made it his duty to eclipse all others:

he had his daughter Maria Clara with him, and there was present his

future son-in-law, who was attracting universal attention.

In fact one of the most serious newspapers in Manila had devoted to

Ibarra an article on its front page, entitled, "Imitate him!" heaping

him with praise and giving him some advice. It had called him, "The

cultivated young gentleman and rich capitalist;" two lines further

on, "The distinguished philanthropist;" in the following paragraph,

"The disciple of Minerva who had gone to the mother country to

pay his respects to the true home of the arts and sciences;" and

a little further on, "The Filipino Spaniard." Capitan Tiago burned

with generous zeal to imitate him and wondered whether he ought not

to erect a convento at his own expense.

Some days before there had arrived at the house where Maria Clara

and Aunt Isabel were staying a profusion of eases of European wines

and food-stuffs, colossal mirrors, paintings, and Maria Clara's

piano. Capitan Tiago had arrived on the day before the fiesta and as

his daughter kissed his hand, had presented her with a beautiful locket

set with diamonds and emeralds, containing a sliver from St. Peter's

boat, in which Our Savior sat during the fishing. His first interview

with his future son-in-law could not have been more cordial. Naturally,

they talked about the school, and Capitan Tiago wanted it named

"School of St. Francis." "Believe me," he said, "St. Francis is a good

patron. If you call it 'School of Primary Instruction,' you will gain

nothing. Who is Primary Instruction, anyhow?"

Some friends of Maria Clara came and asked her to go for a walk. "But

come back quickly," said Capitan Tiago to his daughter, when she asked

his permission, "for you know that Padre Damaso, who has just arrived,

will dine with us."

Then turning to Ibarra, who had become thoughtful, he said, "You dine

with us also, you'll be all alone in your house."

"I would with the greatest pleasure, but I have to be at home in

case visitors come," stammered the youth, as he avoided the gaze of

Maria Clara.

"Bring your friends along," replied Capitan Tiago heartily. "In my

house there's always plenty to eat. Also, I want you and Padre Damaso

to get on good terms."

"There'll be time enough for that," answered Ibarra with a forced

smile, as he prepared to accompany the girls.

They went downstairs, Maria Clara in the center between Victoria

and Iday, Aunt Isabel following. The people made way for them

respectfully. Maria Clara was startling in her beauty; her pallor

was all gone, and if her eyes were still pensive, her mouth on the

contrary seemed to know only smiles. With maiden friendliness the

happy young woman greeted the acquaintances of her childhood, now

the admirers of her promising youth. In less than a fortnight she had

succeeded in recovering that frank confidence, that childish prattle,

which seemed to have been benumbed between the narrow walls of the

nunnery. It might be said that on leaving the cocoon the butterfly

recognized all the flowers, for it seemed to be enough for her to

spread her wings for a moment and warm herself in the sun's rays to

lose all the stiffness of the chrysalis. This new life manifested

itself in her whole nature. Everything she found good and beautiful,

and she showed her love with that maiden modesty which, having never

been conscious of any but pure thoughts, knows not the meaning of false

blushes. While she would cover her face when she was teased, still her

eyes smiled, and a light thrill would course through her whole being.

The houses were beginning to show lights, and in the streets where

the music was moving about there were lighted torches of bamboo and

wood made in imitation of those in the church. From the streets

the people in the houses might be seen through the windows in an

atmosphere of music and flowers, moving about to the sounds of piano,

harp, or orchestra. Swarming in the streets were Chinese, Spaniards,

Filipinos, some dressed in European style, some in the costumes

of the country. Crowding, elbowing, and pushing one another, walked

servants carrying meat and chickens, students in white, men and women,

all exposing themselves to be knocked down by the carriages which,

in spite of the drivers' cries, made their way with difficulty.

In front of Capitan Basilio's house some young women called to our

acquaintances and invited them to enter. The merry voice of Sinang as

she ran down the stairs put an end to all excuses. "Come up a moment

so that I may go with you," she said. "I'm bored staying here among

so many strangers who talk only of game-cocks and cards."

They were ushered into a large room filled with people, some of whom

came forward to greet Ibarra, for his name was now well known. All

gazed in ecstasy at the beauty of Maria Clara and some old women

murmured, as they chewed their buyo, "She looks like the Virgin!"

There they had to have chocolate, as Capitan Basilio had become a warm

friend and defender of Ibarra since the day of the picnic. He had

learned from the half of the telegram given to his daughter Sinang

that Ibarra had known beforehand about the court's decision in the

latter's favor, so, not wishing to be outdone in generosity, he had

tried to set aside the decision of the chess-match. But when Ibarra

would not consent to this, he had proposed that the money which would

have been spent in court fees should be used to pay a teacher in the

new school. In consequence, the orator employed all his eloquence to

the end that other litigants should give up their extravagant claims,

saying to them, "Believe me, in a lawsuit the winner is left without

a camisa." But he had succeeded in convincing no one, even though he

cited the Romans.

After drinking the chocolate our young people had to listen to

piano-playing by the town organist. "When I listen to him in the

church," exclaimed Sinang, pointing to the organist, "I want to dance,

and now that he's playing here I feel like praying, so I'm going out

with you."

"Don't you want to join us tonight?" whispered Capitan Basilio into

Ibarra's ear as they were leaving. "Padre Damaso is going to set up

a little bank." Ibarra smiled and answered with an equivocal shake

of his head.

"Who's that?" asked Maria Clara of Victoria, indicating with a rapid

glance a youth who was following them.

"He's--he's a cousin of mine," she answered with some agitation.

"And the other?"

"He's no cousin of mine," put in Sinang merrily. "He's my uncle's son."

They passed in front of the parish rectory, which was not one of the

least animated buildings. Sinang was unable to repress an exclamation

of surprise on seeing the lamps burning, those lamps of antique

pattern which Padre Salvi had never allowed to be lighted, in order

not to waste kerosene. Loud talk and resounding bursts of laughter

might be heard as the friars moved slowly about, nodding their heads

in unison with the big cigars that adorned their lips. The laymen

with them, who from their European garments appeared to be officials

and employees of the province, were endeavoring to imitate whatever

the good priests did. Maria Clara made out the rotund figure of Padre

Damaso at the side of the trim silhouette of Padre Sibyla. Motionless

in his place stood the silent and mysterious Fray Salvi.

"He's sad," observed Sinang, "for he's thinking about how much so

many visitors are going to cost. But you'll see how he'll not pay

it himself, but the sacristans will. His visitors always eat at

other places."

"Sinang!" scolded Victoria.

"I haven't been able to endure him since he tore up the _Wheel of

Fortune_. I don't go to confession to him any more."

Of all the houses one only was to be noticed without lights and with

all the windows closed--that of the alferez. Maria Clara expressed

surprise at this.

"The witch! The Muse of the Civil Guard, as the old man says,"

exclaimed the irrepressible Sinang. "What has she to do with our

merrymakings? I imagine she's raging! But just let the cholera come

and you'd see her give a banquet."

"But, Sinang!" again her cousin scolded.

"I never was able to endure her and especially since she disturbed our

picnic with her civil-guards. If I were the Archbishop I'd marry Her

to Padre Salvi--then think what children! Look how she tried to arrest

the poor pilot, who threw himself into the water simply to please--"

She was not allowed to finish, for in the corner of the plaza

where a blind man was singing to the accompaniment of a guitar,

a curious spectacle was presented. It was a man miserably dressed,

wearing a broad salakot of palm leaves. His clothing consisted of a

ragged coat and wide pantaloons, like those worn by the Chinese, torn

in many places. Wretched sandals covered his feet. His countenance

remained hidden in the shadow of his wide hat, but from this shadow

there flashed intermittently two burning rays. Placing a flat basket

on the ground, he would withdraw a few paces and utter strange,

incomprehensible sounds, remaining the while standing entirely alone as

if he and the crowd were mutually avoiding each other. Then some women

would approach the basket and put into it fruit, fish, or rice. When

no one any longer approached, from the shadows would issue sadder

but less pitiful sounds, cries of gratitude perhaps. Then he would

take up the basket and make his way to another place to repeat the

same performance.

Maria Clara divined that there must be some misfortune there, and

full of interest she asked concerning the strange creature.

"He's a leper," Iday told her. "Four years ago he contracted the

disease, some say from taking care of his mother, others from lying

in a damp prison. He lives in the fields near the Chinese cemetery,

having intercourse with no one, because all flee from him for fear of

contagion. If you might only see his home! It's a tumbledown shack,

through which the wind and rain pass like a needle through cloth. He

has been forbidden to touch anything belonging to the people. One day

when a little child fell into a shallow ditch as he was passing,

he helped to get it out. The child's father complained to the

gobernadorcillo, who ordered that the leper be flogged through the

streets and that the rattan be burned afterwards. It was horrible! The

leper fled with his flogger in pursuit, while the gobernadorcillo

cried, 'Catch him! Better be drowned than get the disease you have!'"

"Can it be true!" murmured Maria Clara, then, without saying what she

was about to do, went up to the wretch's basket and dropped into it

the locket her father had given her.

"What have you done?" her friends asked.

"I hadn't anything else," she answered, trying to conceal her tears

with a smile.

"What is he going to do with your locket?" Victoria asked her. "One

day they gave him some money, but he pushed it away with a stick;

why should he want it when no one accepts anything that comes from

him? As if the locket could be eaten!"

Maria Clara gazed enviously at the women who were selling food-stuffs

and shrugged her shoulders. The leper approached the basket, picked

up the jeweled locket, which glittered in his hands, then fell upon

his knees, kissed it, and taking off his salakot buried his forehead

in the dust where the maiden had stepped. Maria Clara hid her face

behind her fan and raised her handkerchief to her eyes.

Meanwhile, a poor woman had approached the leper, who seemed to be

praying. Her long hair was loose and unkempt, and in the light of

the torches could be recognized the extremely emaciated features of

the crazy Sisa. Feeling the touch of her hand, the leper jumped up

with a cry, but to the horror of the onlooker's Sisa caught him by

the arm and said:

"Let us pray, let us pray! Today is All Souls' day! Those lights are

the souls of men! Let us pray for my sons!"

"Separate them! Separate them! The madwoman will get the

disease!" cried the crowd, but no one dared to go near them.

"Do you see that light in the tower? That is my son Basilio sliding

down a rope! Do you see that light in the convento? That is my son

Crispin! But I'm not going to see them because the curate is sick

and had many gold pieces and the gold pieces are lost! Pray, let us

pray for the soul of the curate! I took him the finest fruits, for

my garden was full of flowers and I had two sons! I had a garden,

I used to take care of my flowers, and I had two sons!"

Then releasing her hold of the leper, she ran away singing, "I had

a garden and flowers, I had two sons, a garden, and flowers!"

"What have you been able to do for that poor woman?" Maria Clara

asked Ibarra.

"Nothing! Lately she has been missing from the totem and wasn't to

be found," answered the youth, rather confusedly. "Besides, I have

been very busy. But don't let it trouble you. The curate has promised

to help me, but advised that I proceed with great tact and caution,

for the Civil Guard seems to be mixed up in it. The curate is greatly

interested in her case."

"Didn't the alferez say that he would have search made for her sons?"

"Yes, but at the time he was somewhat--drunk." Scarcely had he said

this when they saw the crazy woman being led, or rather dragged along,

by a soldier. Sisa was offering resistance.

"Why are you arresting her? What has she done?" asked Ibarra.

"Why, haven't you seen how she's been raising a disturbance?" was

the reply of the guardian of the public peace.

The leper caught up his basket hurriedly and ran away.

Maria Clara wanted to go home, as she had lost all her mirth and good

humor. "So there are people who are not happy," she murmured. Arriving

at her door, she felt her sadness increase when her fiancé declined

to go in, excusing himself on the plea of necessity. Maria Clara went

upstairs thinking what a bore are the fiesta days, when strangers

make their visits.