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XX.
IN THE WOODS.
There had not been much hope in this second baklad. Every one expected to find there the crocodile's mate; but the net always came up full. The fishing ended, the boats were turned toward the sh.o.r.e. There was the party of the townspeople whom Ibarra had invited to meet his guests of the morning, and lunch with them under improvised tents beside a brook, in the shade of the ancient trees of the wooded peninsula. Music was resounding in the place, and water sang in the kettles. The body of the crocodile, in tow of the boats, turned from side to side; sometimes presenting its belly, white and torn, sometimes its spotted back and mossy shoulders. Man, the favorite of nature, is little disturbed by his many fratricides.
The party dispersed, some going to the baths, some wandering among the trees. The silent young helmsman disappeared. A path with many windings crossed the thicket of the wood and led to the upper course of the warm brook, formed from some of the many thermal springs on the flanks of the Makiling. Along the banks of the stream grew wood flowers, many of which have no Latin names, but are none the less known to golden bugs, to b.u.t.terflies, shaded, jewelled, and bronzed, and to thousands of coleopters powdered with gold and gleaming with facets of steel. The hum of these insects, the song of birds, or the dry sound of dead branches catching in their fall, alone broke the mysterious silence. Suddenly the tones of fresh, young voices were added to the wood notes. They seemed to come down the brook.
"We shall see if I find a nest!" said a sweet and resonant voice. "I should like to see him without his seeing me. I should like to follow him everywhere."
"I don't believe in heron's nests," said another voice; "but if I were in love, I should know how at once to see and to be invisible."
It was Maria Clara, Victoria, and Sinang walking in the brook. Their eyes were on the water, where they were searching for the mysterious nest. In blouses striped with dainty colors, their full bath skirts wet to the knees, outlining the graceful curves of their bodies, they moved along, seeking the impossible, meanwhile picking flowers along the banks. Soon the little stream bent its course, and the tall reeds hid the charming trio and cut off the sound of their voices.
A little farther on, in the middle of the stream, was a sort of bath, well enclosed, its roof of leafy bamboo; palm leaves, flowers, and streamers decked its sides. From here, too, came girls' voices. Farther on was a bamboo bridge, and beyond that the men were bathing, while a mult.i.tude of servants were busy plucking fowls, washing rice, roasting pigs. In the clearing on the opposite bank a group of men and women had formed under a great canvas roof, attached in part to the branches of the ancient trees, in part to pickets. There chatted the curate, the alferez, the vicar, the gobernadorcillo, the lieutenant, all the chief men of the town, including the famous orator, Captain Basilio, father of Sinang and opponent of Don Rafael Ibarra in a lawsuit not yet ended.
"We dispute a point at law," Crisostomo had said in inviting him, "but to dispute is not to be enemies," and the famous orator had accepted the invitation.
Bottles of lemonade were opened and green cocoanut sh.e.l.ls were broken, so that those who came from the baths might drink the fresh water; the girls were given wreaths of ylang-ylang and roses to perfume their unbound hair.
The lunch hour came. The curate, the alferez, the gobernadorcillo, some captains, and the lieutenant sat at a table with Ibarra. The mamas allowed no men at the table with the girls.
"Have you learned anything, senor alferez, about the criminal who attacked Brother Damaso?" said Brother Salvi.
"Of what criminal are you speaking?" asked the alferez, looking at the father over his gla.s.s of wine.
"What? Why, the one who attacked Brother Damaso on the highway day before yesterday."
"Father Damaso has been attacked?" asked several voices.
"Yes; he is in bed yet. It is thought the maker of the a.s.sault is Elias, the one who threw you into the swamp some time ago, senor alferez."
The alferez reddened with shame, if it were not from emptying his gla.s.s of wine.
"But I supposed you were informed," the curate went on; "I said to myself that the alferez of the Munic.i.p.al Guard----"
The officer bit his lip.
At that moment a woman, pale, thin, miserably dressed, appeared, like a phantom, in the midst of the feast.
"Give the poor woman something to eat," said the ladies.
She kept on toward the table where the curate was seated. He turned, recognized her, and the knife fell from his hand.
"Give the woman something to eat," ordered Ibarra.
"The night is dark and the children are gone," murmured the poor woman. But at sight of the alferez she became frightened and ran, disappearing among the trees.
"Who is it?" demanded several voices.
"Isn't her name Sisa?" asked Ibarra with interest.
"Your soldiers arrested her," said the lieutenant to the alferez, with some bitterness; "they brought her all the way across the pueblo for some story about her sons that n.o.body could clear up."
"What!" demanded the alferez, turning to the curate. "It is perhaps the mother of your sacristans?"
The curate nodded a.s.sent.
"They have disappeared, and there hasn't been the slightest effort to find them," said Don Filipo severely, looking at the gobernadorcillo, who lowered his eyes.
"Bring back the woman," Crisostomo ordered his servants.
"They have disappeared, did you say?" demanded the alferez. "Your sacristans have disappeared, Father Salvi?"
The curate emptied his gla.s.s and made another affirmative sign.
"Ho, ho! father," cried the alferez with a mocking laugh, rejoiced at the prospect of revenge. "Your reverence loses a few pesos, and my sergeant is routed out to find them; your two sacristans disappear, your reverence says nothing; and you also, senor gobernadorcillo, you also----"
He did not finish, but broke off laughing, and buried his spoon in the red flesh of a papaw.
The curate began with some confusion:
"I was responsible for the money."
"Excellent reply, reverend pastor of souls!" interrupted the alferez, his mouth full. "Excellent reply, holy man!"
Ibarra was on the point of interfering, but the priest recovered himself.
"Do you know, senor alferez," he asked, "what is said about the disappearance of these children? No? Then ask your soldiers."
"What!" cried the alferez, thus challenged, abandoning his mocking tone.
"They say that on the night when they disappeared shots were heard in the pueblo."
"Shots?" repeated the alferez, looking at the faces around him. There were several signs of a.s.sent.
Brother Salvi went on with a sarcastic smile:
"Come! I see that you do not know how to arrest criminals, that you are unaware of what your soldiers do, but that you are ready to turn yourself into a preacher and teach others their duty."
"Senores," interrupted Ibarra, seeing the alferez grow pale, "I wish to know what you think of a project I've formed. I should like to give the mother into the care of a good physician. I've promised the father to try to find his children."
The return of the servants without Sisa gave a new turn to the conversation. The luncheon was finished. While the tea and coffee were being served the guests separated into groups, the elders to play cards or chess, while the girls, curious to learn their destiny, posed questions to the "Wheel of Fortune."