While the good Linares was in the midst of his soliloquy, Padre Salví came in. The Franciscan was even thinner and paler than usual, but his eyes gleamed with a strange light and his lips wore a peculiar smile.
“Señor Linares, all alone?” was his greeting as he made his way to the sala, through the half-opened door of which floated the notes from a piano. Linares tried to smile.
“Where is Don Santiago?” continued the curate.
Capitan Tiago at that moment appeared, kissed the curate’s hand, and relieved him of his hat and cane, smiling all the while like one of the blessed.
“Come, come!” exclaimed the curate, entering the sala, followed by Linares and Capitan Tiago, “I have good news for you all. I’ve just received letters from Manila which confirm the one Señor Ibarra brought me yesterday. So, Don Santiago, the objection is removed.”
María Clara, who was seated at the piano between her two friends, partly rose, but her strength failed her, and she fell back again. Linares turned pale and looked at Capitan Tiago, who dropped his eyes.
“That young man seems to me to be very agreeable,” continued the curate. “At first I misjudged him—he’s a little quick-tempered—but he knows so well how to atone for his faults afterwards that one can’t hold anything against him. If it were not for Padre Dámaso—”
Here the curate shot a quick glance at María Clara, who was listening without taking her eyes off the sheet of music, in spite of the sly pinches of Sinang, who was thus expressing her joy—had she been alone she would have danced.
“Padre Dámaso?” queried Linares.
“Yes, Padre Dámaso has said,” the curate went on, without taking his gaze from María Clara, “that as—being her sponsor in baptism, he can’t permit—but, after all, I believe that if Señor Ibarra begs his pardon, which I don’t doubt he’ll do, everything will be settled.”
María Clara rose, made some excuse, and retired to her chamber, accompanied by Victoria.
“But if Padre Dámaso doesn’t pardon him?” asked Capitan Tiago in a low voice.
“Then María Clara will decide. Padre Dámaso is her father—spiritually. But I think they’ll reach an understanding.”
At that moment footsteps were heard and Ibarra appeared, followed by Aunt Isabel. His appearance produced varied impressions. To his affable greeting Capitan Tiago did not know whether to laugh or to cry. He acknowledged the presence of Linares with a profound bow. Fray Salví arose and extended his hand so cordially that the youth could not restrain a look of astonishment.
“Don’t be surprised,” said Fray Salví, “for I was just now praising you.”
Ibarra thanked him and went up to Sinang, who began with her childish garrulity, “Where have you been all day? We were all asking, where can that soul redeemed from purgatory have gone? And we all said the same thing.”
“May I know what you said?”
“No, that’s a secret, but I’ll tell you soon alone. Now tell me where you’ve been, so we can see who guessed right.”
“No, that’s also a secret, but I’ll tell you alone, if these gentlemen will excuse us.”
“Certainly, certainly, by all means!” exclaimed Padre Salví.
Rejoicing over the prospect of learning a secret, Sinang led Crisóstomo to one end of the sala.
“Tell me, little friend,” he asked, “is María angry with me?”
“I don’t know, but she says that it’s better for you to forget her, then she begins to cry. Capitan Tiago wants her to marry that man. So does Padre Dámaso, but she doesn’t say either yes or no. This morning when we were talking about you and I said, ‘Suppose he has gone to make love to some other girl?’ she answered, ‘Would that he had!’ and began to cry.”
Ibarra became grave. “Tell María that I want to talk with her alone.”
“Alone?” asked Sinang, wrinkling her eyebrows and staring at him.
“Entirely alone, no, but not with that fellow present.”
“It’s rather difficult, but don’t worry, I’ll tell her.”
“When shall I have an answer?”
“Tomorrow come to my house early. María doesn’t want to be left alone at all, so we stay with her. Victoria sleeps with her one night and I the other, and tonight it’s my turn. But listen, your secret? Are you going away without telling me?”
“That’s right! I was in the town of Los Baños. I’m going to develop some coconut-groves and I’m thinking of putting up an oil-mill. Your father will be my partner.”
“Nothing more than that? What a secret!” exclaimed Sinang aloud, in the tone of a cheated usurer. “I thought—”
“Be careful! I don’t want you to make it known!”
“Nor do I want to do it,” replied Sinang, turning up her nose. “If it were something more important, I would tell my friends. But to buy coconuts! Coconuts! Who’s interested in coconuts?” And with extraordinary haste she ran to join her friends.
A few minutes later Ibarra, seeing that the interest of the party could only languish, took his leave. Capitan Tiago wore a bittersweet look, Linares was silent and watchful, while the curate with assumed cheerfulness talked of indifferent matters. None of the girls had reappeared.
LII
The Cards of the Dead and the Shadows
The moon was hidden in a cloudy sky while a cold wind, precursor of the approaching December, swept the dry leaves and dust about in the narrow pathway leading to the cemetery. Three shadowy forms were conversing in low tones under the arch of the gateway.
“Have you spoken to Elías?” asked a voice.
“No, you know how reserved and circumspect he is. But he ought to
