Friars and Filipinos Part 41

"Have you permission? If not, you shall not go up!" said an old servant.

But the soldiers pushed the servants aside with the b.u.t.ts of their guns and went upstairs. A thick smoke was already filling the whole house, and gigantic tongues of flame were coming out from the sala, licking the doors and windows.

"Fire! Fire! Fire!" they all cried.

Each hurried to save what he could, but the fire had filled the small laboratory, breaking out furiously among the inflammable materials. The Civil Guards had to turn back. The fire, roaring and sweeping all before it, closed the pa.s.sage to them. In vain they brought water from the well. All were shouting, and crying for help, but they were isolated. The fire reached the other rooms and in thick columns of smoke ascended to the heavens. Some peasants came from a distance, but they arrived only in time to see the frightful spectacle, the end of that old building, so long respected by the elements.

CHAPTER x.x.xVI

WHAT PEOPLE SAY AND THINK.

Day dawned at last for the terrorized people. The streets in which the cuartel and the tribunal were situated were still deserted and solitary. The houses showed no signs of life. However, a shutter was opened with a creaking noise and an infant head stuck out and looked in all directions.... Slap!... A sound announces hard contact between a strip of leather and a human body. The child made a grimace, closed its eyes and disappeared. The shutter was closed again.

The example had been set. Without any doubt the opening and closing of the shutter has been heard, for another window was opened very slowly and cautiously and a wrinkled and toothless old woman thrust out her head. She was called Sister Rute. She looked about, knit her brows, spit noisily and then crossed herself. In the house opposite, a little window was timidly opened and her friend, Sister Rufa appeared. They looked at each other for a moment, smiled, made some signals, and again crossed themselves.

"Jesus! It was like a thanksgiving ma.s.s," said Sister Rufa.

"Since the time that Balat sacked the town I have never seen a night like it," replied Sister Pute.

"What a lot of shots! They say that it was old Pablo's gang."

"Tulisanes? It couldn't be. They say that it was the cuaderilleros against the Civil Guards. For this reason, they have arrested Don Filipo."

"Sanctus Deus! They say that there are no less than fourteen killed."

Other windows were opened and different faces appeared, exchanging salutations and commenting on the affair.

In the light of the day--which promised to be a splendid one--could be seen in the distance, like ash-colored shadows, soldiers hurrying about in confusion.

"There goes another corpse!" said some one from one of the windows.

"One? I see two."

"And so do I. But do you know what it was?" asked a man with a crafty face.

"Certainly. The cuaderilleros."

"No, Senor. An uprising at the cuartel."

"What uprising? The curate against the alferez?"

"No, nothing of the sort," said he who had asked the question. "The Chinese have risen in revolt."

And he closed his window again.

"The Chinese!" repeated all, with the greatest astonishment.

In a quarter of an hour other versions of the affair were in circulation. Ibarra, with his servants, it was said, had tried to steal Maria Clara, and Captain Tiago, aided by the Guardia Civil had defended her.

By this time the number of the dead was no longer fourteen, but thirty. Captain Tiago, it was said, was wounded and was going right off to Manila with his family.

The arrival of two cuaderilleros, carrying a human form in a wheelbarrow, and followed by a Civil Guard, produced a great sensation. It was supposed that they came from the convent. From the form of the feet which were hanging down, they tried to guess who it could be. By half-past seven, when other Civil Guards arrived from neighboring towns, the current version of the affair was already clear and detailed.

"I have just come from the tribunal, where I have seen Don Filipo and Don Crisostomo prisoners," said a man to Sister Pute. "I talked with one of the cuaderilleros on guard. Well, Bruno, the son of the man who was whipped to death, made a declaration last night. As you know, Captain Tiago is going to marry his daughter to a Spaniard. Don Crisostomo, offended, wanted to take revenge and tried to kill all the Spaniards, even the curate. Last night they attacked the convent and the cuartel. Happily, by mercy of G.o.d, the curate was in Captain Tiago's house. They say that many escaped. The Civil Guards burned Don Crisostomo's house, and if they had not taken him prisoner, they would have burned him, too."

"They burned the house?"

"All the servants were arrested. Why, you can still see the smoke from here!" said the narrator, approaching the window. "Those who come from there relate very sad things."

All looked toward the place indicated. A light column of smoke was still ascending to the heavens. All made comments more or less pious, more or less accusatory.

"Poor young man!" exclaimed an old man, the husband of Pute.

"Yes!" replied his wife. "But he did not order a ma.s.s for the soul of his father, who undoubtedly needs it more than others."

"But wife, you don't have any pity...."

"Sympathy for the excommunicated? It is a sin to have pity for the enemies of G.o.d, say the curates. Don't you remember? He ran over the sacred burial ground as if he were in a cattle pen."

"But a cattle pen and a cemetery are much alike," responded the old man, "except that but one cla.s.s of animals enter the cemetery."

"What!" cried Sister Pute. "Are you still going to defend him whom G.o.d so clearly punishes? You will see that they will arrest you, too. You may support a falling house, if you want to!"

The husband became silent in view of this argument.

"Yes," continued the old woman, "after striking Father Damaso, there was nothing left for him to do but to kill Father Salvi."

"But you can't deny that he was a good boy when he was a child."

"Yes, he was a good child," replied the old woman, "but he went to Spain. All those who go to Spain return heretics, so the curates say."

"Oh!" exclaimed the husband, seeing his revenge. "And the curate, and all the curates, and the Archbishops, and the Pope, and the Virgin--are they not Spaniards? Bah! Are they heretics, too? Bah!"

Happily for Sister Pute, the arrival of a servant, who rushed in confused and pale, cut off the discussion.

"A man hanged in a neighboring orchard!" she exclaimed breathless.

"A man hanged!" exclaimed all, full of amazement.

The women crossed themselves. No one could stir.

"Yes, Senor," continued the servant, trembling. "I was going to gather some peas in.... I looked into the orchard next door ... to see if there ... I saw a man swinging.... I thought it was Teo ... I went nearer to gather peas, and I saw that it was not he but it was another, and was dead ... I ran, ran and...."