Part 49

"Is it possible? Are we yet in the middle ages?" he began. But he checked himself and said to the girls:

"I must excuse myself; I will be back to go home with you."

"Oh, stay!" said Sinang. "Yeyeng is going to dance!"

"I cannot, little friend."

While Yeyeng was coming forward, two soldiers of the guard approached Don Filipo and demanded that the representation be stopped.

"And why?" he asked in surprise.

"Because the alférez and his wife have been fighting; they want to sleep."

"Tell the alférez we have the permission of the alcalde of the province, and nobody in the pueblo can overrule that, not even the gobernadorcillo."

"But we have our orders to stop the performance."

Don Filipo shrugged his shoulders and turned his back. The Comedy Company of Tondo was about to give a play, and the audience was settling for its enjoyment.

The Filipino is passionately fond of the theatre; he listens in silence, never hisses, and applauds with measure. Does not the spectacle please him? He chews his buyo and goes out quietly, not to trouble those who may like it. He expects in his plays a combat every fifteen seconds, and all the rest of the time repartee between comic personages, or terrifying metamorphoses. The comedy chosen for this fête was "Prince Villardo, or the Nails Drawn from the Cellar of Infamy," comedy with sorcery and fireworks.

Prince Villardo presented himself, defying the Moors, who held his father prisoner. He threatened to cut off all their heads at a single stroke and send them into the moon.

Fortunately for the Moors, as they were preparing for the combat, a tumult arose. The music stopped, and the musicians assailed the theatre with their instruments, which went flying in all directions. The valiant Villardo, unprepared for so many foes, threw down his sword and buckler and took to flight, and the Moors, seeing the hasty leave of so terrible a Christian, made bold to follow him. Cries, exclamations, and imprecations rose on all sides, people ran against one another, lights went out, children screamed, and benches were overturned in a hurly-burly. Some cried fire, some cried "The tulisanes!"

What had happened? The two guards had driven off the musicians, and the lieutenant and some of the cuadrilleros were vainly trying to check their flight.

"Take those two men to the tribunal!" cried Don Filipo. "Don't let them escape!"

When the crowd had recovered from its fright and taken account of what had happened, indignation broke forth.

"That's why they are for!" cried a woman, brandishing her arms; "to trouble the pueblo! They are the real tulisanes! Fire the barracks!"

Stones rained on the group of cuadrilleros leading off the guards, and the cry to fire the barracks was repeated. Chananay in her costume of Leonora in "Il Trovatore" was talking with Ratia, in schoolmaster's dress; Yeyeng, wrapped in a shawl, was attended by Prince Villardo, while the Moors tried to console the mortified musicians; but already the crowd had determined upon action, and Don Filipo was doing his best to hold them in check.

"Do nothing rash!" he cried. "To-morrow we will demand satisfaction; we shall have justice; I promise you justice!"

"No," replied some; "that's what they did at Calamba: they promised justice, and the alcalde didn't do a thing! We will take justice for ourselves! To the barracks!"

Don Filipo, looking about for some one to aid him, saw Ibarra.

"For heaven's sake, Señor Ibarra, keep the people here while I go for the cuadrilleros!"

"What can I do?" demanded the perplexed young fellow; but Don Filipo was already in the distance.

Ibarra, in his turn, looked about for aid, and saw Elias. He ran to him, took him by the arm, and, speaking in Spanish, begged him to do what he could for order. The helmsman disappeared in the crowd. Animated discussions were heard, and rapid questions; then, little by little, the mass began to dissolve and to wear a less hostile attitude. It was time; the soldiers arrived with bayonets fixed.

As Ibarra was about to enter his house that night a little man in mourning, having a great scar on his left cheek, placed himself in front of him and bowed humbly.

"What can I do for you?" asked Crisóstomo.

"Señor, my name is José; I am the brother of the man killed this morning."

"Ah," said Ibarra, "I assure you I am not insensible to your loss. What do you wish of me?"