Part 78

"Señor, a month ago we sat in this same boat, under the light of this same moon. You could not have said such a thing then."

"No, Elias. Man seems to be an animal who varies with circumstances. I was blind then, unreasonable, I know not what. Now the bandage has been torn from my eyes; the wretchedness and solitude of my prison has taught me better. I see the cancer that is eating into our society; perhaps, after all, it must be torn out by violence."

They came in sight of the governor-general's palace, and thought they saw unusual movement among the guards.

"Your escape must have been discovered," said Elias. "Lie down, señor, so I can cover you with the zacate, for the sentinel at the magazine may stop us."

As Elias had anticipated, the sentinel challenged him, and asked him where he came from.

"From Manila, with zacate for the iodores and curates," said he, imitating the accent of the people of Pandakan.

A sergeant came out.

"Sulung," said he to Elias, "I warn you not to take any one into your boat. A prisoner has just escaped. If you capture him and bring him to me, I will give you a fine reward."

"Good, señor; what is his description?"

"He wears a long coat, and speaks Spanish. Look out for him!"

The bark moved off. Elias turned and saw the sentinel still standing by the bank.

"We shall lose a few minutes," he said; "we shall have to go into the rio Beata, to make him think I'm from Peña Francia. You shall see the rio of which Francisco Baltazar sang."

The pueblo was asleep in the moonlight. Crisóstomo sat up to admire the death-like peace of nature. The rio was narrow, and its banks were plains strewn with zacate. Elias discharged his cargo, and from the grass where they were hidden, drew some of those sacks of palm leaves that are called bayones. Then they pushed off again, and soon were back on the Pasig. From time to time they talked of indifferent things.

"Santa Ana!" said Ibarra, speaking low; "do you know that building?" They were passing the country house of the Jesuits.

"I've spent many happy days there," said Elias. "When I was a child, we came here every month. Then I was like other people; had a family, a fortune; dreamed, thought I saw a future."

They were silent until they came to Malapad-na-batô. Those who have sometimes cut a wake in the Pasig, on one of these magnificent nights of the Philippines, when from the limpid azure the moon pours out a poetic melancholy, when shadows hide the miseries of men and silence puts out their sordid words--those who have done this will know some of the thoughts of these two young men.

At Malapad-na-batô, the rifleman was sleepy, and seeing no hope of plunder in the little bark, according to the tradition of his corps and the habit of this post, he let it pass. The guard at Pasig was no more disquieting.

The moonlight was growing pale, and dawn was beginning to tint the east with roses, when they arrived at the lake, smooth and placid as a great mirror. At a distance they saw a gray mass, advancing little by little.

"It's the falúa," said Elias under his breath. "Lie down, señor, and I will cover you with these bags."

The outlines of the government boat grew more and more distinct.

"She's getting between us and the shore," said Elias, uneasily; and very gradually he changed the direction of his bark. To his terror he saw the falúa make the same change, and heard a voice hailing him. He stopped and thought. The shore was yet some distance away; they would soon be within range of the ship's guns. He thought he would go back to Pasig, his boat could escape the other in that direction; but fate was against him. Another boat was coming from Pasig, and in it glittered the helmets and bayonets of the Civil Guards.

"We are caught!" he said, and the color left his face. He looked at his sturdy arms, and took the only resolution possible; he began to row with all his might toward the island of Talim. The sun was coming up. The bark shot rapidly over the water; on the falúa, which changed its tack, Elias saw men signalling.

"Do you know how to manage a bark?" he demanded of Ibarra.

"Yes. Why?"

"Because we are lost unless I take to the water to throw them off the track. They will pursue me. I swim and dive well. That will turn them away from you, and you must try to save yourself."

"No, stay, and let us sell our lives dear!"

"It is useless; we have no arms; they would shoot us down like birds."

As he spoke, they heard a hiss in the water, followed by a report.