Part 66

"Señor, you haven't a moment to lose. The plot is to be carried out to-night."

Crisóstomo still gazed at Elias, as if he did not understand.

"I learned of it too late; I don't know the leaders; I can do nothing. Save yourself, señor!"

"Where can I go? I am due now at Captain Tiago's," said Ibarra, beginning to come out of his trance.

"To another pueblo, to Manila, anywhere! Destroy your papers! Fly, and await events!"

"And Maria Clara? No! Better die!"

Elias wrung his hands.

"Prepare for the accusation, at all events. Destroy your papers!"

"Aid me then," said Crisóstomo, in almost helpless bewilderment. "They are in these cabinets. My father's letters might compromise me. You will know them by the addresses." And he tore open one drawer after another. Elias worked to better purpose, choosing here, rejecting there. Suddenly he stopped, his pupils dilated; he turned a paper over and over in his hand, then in a trembling voice he asked:

"Your family knew Don Pedro Eibarramendia?"

"He was my great-grandfather."

"Your great-grandfather?" repeated Elias, livid.

"Yes," said Ibarra mechanically, and totally unobservant of Elias. "The name was too long; we cut it."

"Was he a Basque?" asked Elias slowly.

"Yes; but what ails you?" said Crisóstomo, looking round and recoiling before the hard face and clenched fists of Elias.

"Do you know who Don Pedro Eibarramendia was? Don Pedro Eibarramendia was the wretch who caused all our misfortune! I have long been searching for his descendants; God has delivered you into my hands! Look at me! Do you think I have suffered? And you live, and you love, and have a fortune and a home; you live, you live!" and, beside himself, he ran toward a collection of arms on the wall. But no sooner had he reached down two poniards than he dropped them, looking blindly at Ibarra, who stood rigid.

"What was I going to do?" he said under his breath, and he fled like a madman.

XLVII.

THE CATASTROPHE.

Captain Tiago, Aunt Isabel, and Linares were dining. Maria Clara had said she was not hungry, and was at the piano with Sinang. The two girls had arranged this moment for meeting Ibarra away from too watchful eyes. The clock struck eight.

"He's coming! Listen!" cried the laughing Sinang.

He entered, white and sad. Maria Clara, in alarm, started toward him, but before any one could speak a fusilade sounded in the street; then random pistol shots, and cries and clamor. Crisóstomo seemed glued to the floor. The diners came running in crying: "The tulisanes! The tulisanes!" Aunt Isabel fell on her knees half dead from fright, Captain Tiago was weeping. Some one rushed about fastening the windows. The tumult continued outside; then little by little there fell a dreadful silence. Presently the alférez was heard crying out as he ran through the street:

"Father Salvi! Father Salvi!"

"Mercy!" exclaimed Aunt Isabel. "The alférez is asking for confession!"

"The alférez is wounded!" murmured Linares, with an expression of the utmost relief.

"The tulisanes have killed the alférez! Maria, Sinang, into your chamber! Barricade the door!"

In spite of the protests of Aunt Isabel, Ibarra went out into the street. Everything seemed turning round and round him; his ears rang; he could scarcely move his limbs. Spots of blood, flashes of light and darkness alternated before his eyes. The streets were deserted, but the barracks were in confusion, and voices came from the tribunal, that of the alférez dominating all the others. Ibarra passed unchallenged, and reached his home, where his servants were anxiously watching for him.

"Saddle me the best horse and go to bed," he said to them.