Part 75

"But the money, my dear! The good fellow is selling himself."

In another group some one was saying:

"To marry when one's first fiancé is going to be hung!"

"That is what is called prudent; having a substitute at hand."

"Then, when one becomes a widow----"

Possibly some of these remarks reached the ears of Maria Clara. She grew paler, her hand trembled, her lips seemed to move.

In the circles of men the talk was loud, and naturally the recent events were the subject of conversation. Everybody talked, even Don Tiburcio.

"I hear that your reverence is about to leave the pueblo," said the new lieutenant, whom his new star had made more amiable.

"I have no more to do there; I am to be placed permanently at Manila. And you?" asked Father Salvi.

"I also leave the pueblo," said he, throwing back his shoulders; "I am going with a flying column to rid the province of filibusters."

Father Salvi surveyed his old enemy from top to toe, and turned away with a disdainful smile.

"Is it known certainly what is to be done with the chief filibuster?" asked a clerk.

"You are speaking of Don Crisóstomo Ibarra," replied another. "It is very probable that he will be hung, like those of 1872, and it will be very just."

"He is to be exiled," said the old lieutenant dryly.

"Exile! Nothing but exile?" cried numerous voices at once. "Then it must be for life!"

"If the young man had been more prudent," went on Lieutenant Guevara, speaking so that all might hear, "if he had confided less in certain persons to whom he wrote, if our attorney-generals did not interpret too subtly what they read, it is certain he would have been released."

This declaration of the old lieutenant's, and the tone of his voice, produced a great surprise among his auditors. No one knew what to say. Father Salvi looked away, perhaps to avoid the dark look the lieutenant gave him. Maria Clara dropped some flowers she had in her hand, and became a statue. Father Sibyla, who knew when to be silent, seemed the only one who knew how to question.

"You speak of letters, Señor Guevara."

"I speak of what I am told by Don Crisóstomo's advocate, who is greatly interested in his case, and defended him with zeal. Outside of a few ambiguous lines in a letter addressed to a woman before he left for Europe, in which the procurator found a project against the Government, and which the young man acknowledged as his, there was no evidence against him."

"And the declaration made by the tulisan before he died?"

"The defence destroyed that testimony. According to the witness himself, none of them had any communication with Ibarra, except one named José, who was his enemy, as was proven, and who afterward committed suicide, probably from remorse. It was shown that the papers found on his body were forgeries, for the writing was like Ibarra's seven years ago, but not like his hand of to-day. For this it was supposed that the accusing letter served as a model."

"You tell us," said a Franciscan, "that Ibarra addressed this letter to a woman. How did it come into the hands of the attorney-general?"

The lieutenant did not reply. He looked a moment at Father Salvi, and moved off, twisting the point of his gray beard. The others continued to discuss the matter.

"Even women seem to have hated him," said one.

"He burned his house, thinking to save himself, but he counted without his hostess!" said another, laughing.

Meanwhile the old soldier approached Maria Clara. She had heard the whole conversation, sitting motionless, the flowers lying at her feet.

"You are a prudent young woman," he said in a low voice; "by giving over the letter, you assured yourself a peaceful future." And he moved on, leaving Maria with blank eyes and a face rigid. Fortunately Aunt Isabel passed. Maria had strength to take her by the dress.

"What is the matter?" cried the old lady, terrified at the face of her niece. "You are ill, my child. You are ready to faint. What is it?"