Friars and Filipinos Part 20

Ibarra had gone in search of Maria Clara, almost on a run. He had so many things to tell her. He heard some gentle voices in one of the rooms and knocked at the door.

"Who knocks?" asked Maria Clara.

The voices were silenced and the door ... was not opened.

"It is I. May I come in?" asked the young man, his heart beating violently.

The silence was not broken. A few seconds afterward gentle steps approached the door and Sinang's cheerful voice murmured through the key-hole: "Crisostomo, we are going to the theatre to-night. Write what you have to say to Maria Clara."

Then the footsteps were heard retreating, as quickly as they had come.

"What does that mean!" murmured Ibarra to himself, as he went slowly away from the door.

CHAPTER XX

THE PROCESSION.

In the evening, by the light of lanterns hung from windows, to the ringing of bells and bursting of bombs, the procession started for the fourth time.

The Governor General left the house on foot, in company with his two adjutants, Captain Tiago, the Alcalde, the alferez, and Ibarra. The Civil Guards and the officials of the town preceded them and cleared the way. His Excellency had been invited to witness the procession from the house of the gobernadorcillo, in front of which a platform had been erected for the recitation of a loa, or religious poem, in honor of the Patron Saint. Ibarra had previously declined with pleasure an invitation to hear this poetical composition, as he had preferred to witness the procession from the house of Captain Tiago with Maria Clara and her friends. But, as His Excellency wished to hear the loa, there was no other remedy for Ibarra but to console himself with the hope of seeing her at the theatre.

The procession was headed by three sacristans carrying silver candlesticks. The children of the school, accompanied by their teacher, followed. Then came the small boys, with colored paper lanterns fastened to the ends of pieces of bamboo, each more or less adorned according to the caprices of the boy, for this part of the illumination was paid for entirely by themselves. However, they fulfilled this duty with a great deal of pleasure.

In the midst of it all, men serving as police, pa.s.sed to and fro to see that the files of the procession were not broken or the people jammed together in a crowd. For this purpose they used their wands and inflicted some hard blows, thus managing to add to the brilliancy of the procession, to the edification of souls and to the glory of religious pomp.

At the same time that the officers inflicted these sanctified floggings with their wands free of charge, others, to console those who had been punished, distributed wax and tallow candles, also free of charge.

"Senor Alcalde," said Ibarra, in a low voice, "do they inflict those blows to punish the sinners or merely for pleasure?"

"You are right, Senor Ibarra," replied the Governor General, who had overheard his question. "This spectacle ... barbarous ... astonishing to those who come from other countries, ought to be prohibited."

Although it cannot be explained, the first saint who appeared was San Juan el Baptisto. On seeing him, you would say that the cousin of Our Saviour did not enjoy any great renown among these people. He had slender feet and legs and the face of a hermit, and was carried along on an old wooden litter. In marked contrast to the representation of San Juan, was that of San Francisco, the founder of the great order. The latter was drawn in a car, and, as Tasio said: "What a car! How many lights and gla.s.s lanterns! Why, I have never seen you surrounded by so many illuminations, Giovanni Bernardone! And what music!"

Behind the music came a standard representing the same saint, but with seven wings. It was carried by the brothers of the Third Order, dressed in guingon and praying in a loud and mournful voice. The next in the procession was Santa Maria Magdalena, a most beautiful image with an abundant growth of hair, a handkerchief of embroidered pina cloth between her ring-covered fingers, and wearing a dress of silk adorned with gold-leaf. Lights and incense surrounded her. The gla.s.s tears from her eyes reflected the colors of the colored fire which was burned here and there, giving a fantastic aspect to the procession. Consequently, the sinful saint appeared to be weeping now green, now red and now blue tears. The people did not begin to burn these colored lights till San Francisco was pa.s.sing; San Juan el Baptisto did not enjoy this honor, pa.s.sing by quickly, ashamed perhaps to go dressed in skins among so many saints covered with gold and precious jewels.

"There goes our saint!" cried the daughter of the gobernadorcillo to her visitors. "I loaned her my rings, but I did it to get to Heaven."

Those carrying the illuminations stopped near the platform to hear the loa. The saints did the same. They and their carriers wanted to hear the verses. Those who carried San Juan, tired of waiting, squatted down in the characteristic Filipino manner, and found it convenient to leave their burden on the ground.

"You'll get into trouble," objected one.

"Jesus! In the sacristy, they leave him in a corner among spider-webs...."

After Magdalena came the women. They differed from the men in arrangement. Instead of the children, the old women came first and finally the unmarried women. Behind these came the car of the Virgin, and behind that, the curate under his canopy. Father Damaso gave the following reason for putting the young women next to the Virgin's car: "The Virgin likes young women, but not old ones." Of course, this explanation caused many of the older women to make wry faces, but that did not change the taste of the Virgin.

San Diego followed Magdalena, but he did not seem to rejoice over the fact, for he was as precise in his behavior as on the morning when he followed along behind San Francisco. Six brothers of the Third Order drew the car. San Diego stopped before the platform and awaited for the people to salute him.

But it was necessary to await the car which contained the image of the Virgin. Preceding this car were some people dressed in a fantastic manner which made children cry and babies scream. In the midst of that dark ma.s.s of habits, hoods and girdles, to the sound of that monotonous and nasal prayer, one could see, like white jessamine, like fresh pansies among old rags, twelve young la.s.sies dressed in white, crowned with flowers, with hair curled and eyes bright as the necklaces they wore. Seizing hold of two wide blue bands which were tied to the car of the Virgin, they drew it along, reminding one of doves drawing the car of Spring.

And now when the images were all attentive, when this child and that had been slapped sufficiently to make him listen to the verses, when everybody had his eyes fixed on the half open curtain, at last, an aaaah! of admiration escaped from the lips of all.

And the sight merited it. A young child appeared with wings, riding boots, a cordon over its shoulder, a belt and a plumed hat.

"The Senor Alcalde!" cried some one, but the young prodigy recited a poem in such a manner that the Alcalde was not offended at the comparison.

The procession then continued. San Juan followed out his bitter career.

As the Virgin pa.s.sed before the house of Captain Tiago, a heavenly song greeted her like the words of an archangel. It was a sweet, melodious, supplicating voice, weeping the Ave Maria of Gounod. The music of the procession was silenced, the praying ceased, and Father Salvi himself stopped. The voice trembled and brought tears to the cheeks of those who heard it. That voice expressed more than a salutation, a prayer, or a plaint.

From the window, where he was viewing the procession, Ibarra heard the voice, and melancholy took possession of his heart. He understood what that soul was suffering and what was expressed in that song. He was afraid to think of the cause of that grief.

The Governor General found him pensive and sad.

CHAPTER XXI

DOnA CONSOLACION.

Why were the windows in the alferez's house closed? Where was the masculine face and the flannel shirt of the Medusa or Muse of the Civil Guard while the procession was pa.s.sing? Could she have understood how unpleasant was the sight of the swelling veins of her forehead, filled, it seemed, not with blood but with vinegar and bile; of her large cigar, that worthy ornament of her red lips; and of her envious look; could she have understood all of that, and, giving way to a generous impulse, have refrained from disturbing the gayety of the crowd by her sinister apparition?

Alas! Her generous impulses lived only in the golden age.

Her house was sad because other people were merry, as Sinang put it. There neither lanterns nor flags could be seen. In fact, if the sentry were not walking up and down in front of the gate, you would have said that the house was unoccupied.

A feeble light illumined the disarranged sala, and made transparent the oyster-sh.e.l.l windows filled with spider-webs and covered with dust. The Senora, according to her custom, her hands folded, sat in a wide arm-chair. She was dressed the same as every day, that is to say, outrageously out of taste. In detail, she had a handkerchief tied around her head, while short, slender locks of tangled hair hung down on either side; a blue flannel shirt over another shirt which should have been white; and a faded-out skirt which moulded itself to her slender thighs as she sat with her legs crossed and nervously wiggled her foot. From her mouth, came big puffs of smoke, which she fastidiously blew up in the s.p.a.ce toward which she looked when her eyes were open.

That morning the Senora had not heard ma.s.s, not because she had not cared to hear it, for on the contrary she wanted to show herself to the mult.i.tude and to hear the sermon, but because her husband had not permitted her to do so. As was usually the case, his prohibition was accompanied by two or three insults, oaths and threats of kicking. The alferez understood that his "female" dressed herself in a ridiculous manner, and that it was not fitting to expose her to the eyes of the people from the capital nor even the country districts.

But she did not understand it that way. She knew that she was beautiful, attractive, that she had the manners of a queen and that she dressed much better and more gorgeously than Maria Clara herself, though to be sure the latter wore a tapis over her skirt while she wore only the skirt. The alferez had to say to her: "Oh, shut your mouth or I'll kick you till you do!"

Dona Consolacion did not care to be kicked, but she planned revenge.

The dark face of the Senora never had inspired confidence in anybody, not even when she painted it. That morning she was exceptionally uneasy, and as she walked from one end of the sala to the other, in silence and as if meditating something terrible, her eyes shone like those of a serpent about to be crushed. Her look was cold, luminous, and penetrating and had something vicious, loathsome and cruel in it.

The slightest defect in anything, the most insignificant or unusual noise brought forth an obscene and infamous expression; but no one responded. To offer an excuse was a crime.

So the day pa.s.sed. Encountering no obstacle in her way--her husband had been invited out--she became saturated with bile.