Friars and Filipinos Part 27

Father Salvi stepped back.

"And what of it?" he muttered, in an unintelligible voice.

Lucas made an effort to weep, and dried his eyes with his handkerchief.

"Father," said he, crying, "I have been to Crisostomo's house to ask him for indemnity. At first, he received me with kicks, saying that he would not pay anything, since he had run the risk of being killed through the fault of my dear, unfortunate brother. Yesterday, I went to talk with him again, but he had already left for Manila, leaving me for charity's sake five hundred pesos for my poor brother--five hundred pesos--ah! Father."

The curate listened to the first part of his story with surprise and attention, but slowly there appeared on his lips a smile--a smile of such contempt and sarcasm at the comedy that was being played, that if Lucas had seen it he would have fled in all haste.

"And what do you want now?" he asked, turning his back to him.

"Alas! Father, for love of G.o.d tell me what I ought to do. Father, you have always given good advice."

"Who has told you that? You do not live here."

"But the whole province knows you, Father!"

Father Salvi went up to him with his eyes full of anger and, motioning to the street, said to the frightened Lucas:

"Go to your house and give thanks to Don Crisostomo that he has not sent you to jail. Get away from here."

Forgetting his role, Lucas muttered:

"Well, I thought----"

"Out of here!" cried Father Salvi, in a nervous tone.

"I want to see Father Damaso."

"Father Damaso is busy. Out of here!" ordered the curate, in an imperative tone, again.

Lucas went down the stairs murmuring: "He is another. How poorly he pays! He who pays better...."

The voice of the curate had reached the ears of all in the house, even Father Damaso, Captain Tiago and Linares.

"An insolent beggar who came to ask alms and doesn't want to work,"

said Father Salvi, taking his hat and cane and starting toward the convent.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE PERSECUTED.

By the dim light which the moon diffused through the thick branches of the trees, a man wandered along the forest trails slowly and cautiously. From time to time, as if to find out where he was, he whistled a particular melody, to which another in the distance responded with the same air. The man listened attentively, and afterward proceeded in the direction of the distant sound.

Finally, pa.s.sing through the thousand difficulties which a virgin forest offers in the night time, he came to a small clearing. High rocks, crowned with trees, surrounded the place, forming a sort of ruined amphitheatre. Recently cut trees, with their charred trunks and enormous rocks, which Nature had covered with her mantle of green foliage, filled the middle of the open s.p.a.ce.

Scarcely had the unknown man arrived, when another figure quickly appeared from behind one of the large rocks, advanced and drew a revolver.

"Who are you?" he asked in Tagalog and, in an imperious voice, as he c.o.c.ked the hammer of his weapon.

"Is old Pablo among you?" asked the first calmly, without replying to the question or becoming intimidated.

"Do you refer to the Captain? Yes, he is."

"Tell him, then, that Elias is looking for him here," said the man.

"Are you Elias?" asked the other with a certain respect, and approaching him without lowering his revolver. "Then come."

Elias followed him.

They penetrated into a kind of cavern, which was hollowed out in the depths of the earth. The guide, who knew the way, told the pilot when he ought to get down, stoop or crawl. However, it was not long before they came to a sala or room in the cave, miserably illuminated by pitch torches, and occupied by twelve or fifteen armed men. The faces of the men were dirty and their clothes ragged; some were sitting down, others lying down, conversing among themselves in a low tone. Leaning his elbows on a stone which served as a table and contemplating thoughtfully the lamp, which was shedding very little light for the amount of smoke it made, sat an old man. His countenance was sad, and his head wrapped in a b.l.o.o.d.y rag. If we had not known that the place was a cave of tulisanes, we would have said, on reading the desperation on the face of the old man, that it was the Tower of Hunger on the eve when Ugolino devoured his sons.

At the arrival of Elias and the guide, the men were about to arise, but, at a signal from the guide, they were quieted and contented themselves with examining the pilot, who was entirely unarmed.

The old man turned his head slowly and his eyes met the st.u.r.dy figure of Elias. The latter, in turn, with his head uncovered, full of sadness and interest, gazed upon the old man.

"Is it you?" asked the old man, his face brightening a little as he recognized the youth.

"How badly off you are!" murmured Elias, in an half-intelligible tone of voice.

The old man bowed in silence, made a sign to the men, who then arose and left, not, however, without first directing glances at the pilot, measuring his stature and muscles.

"Yes!" said the old man to Elias as soon as they found themselves alone. "Six months ago, I gave you refuge in my house. Then, it was I who sympathized with you; now, fortune has changed and it is you who pity me. But sit down, and tell me how you came here."

"Some fifteen days ago they told me of your misfortune," replied the young man slowly, and in a low voice, looking toward the light. "I at once set out on the road and I have been searching for you from mountain to mountain. I have travelled over the greater part of two provinces.

"Rather than spill innocent blood," said Pablo, "I have had to flee. My enemies are afraid to show themselves and shield themselves behind some unhappy fellows who have never done me the slightest injury."

Then, after a short pause, of which Elias took advantage to read the thoughts in that melancholy countenance, he replied:

"I have come to make a proposition. Having searched in vain for some member of the family which has caused me my misfortunes, I have decided to leave the province where I am living and to emigrate to the north and live there among the heathen and independent tribes. Do you want to leave this life and go with me? I will be your son, since you have lost those whom you had, and I, who have no family, will take you as my father."

The old man shook his head and said:

"At my age, when a person makes a desperate resolution it is because there is no other course open. A man who, like me has pa.s.sed his youth and the best years of his life working for his own future and for the future of his sons, a man who has been submissive to all the wishes of his superiors, who has discharged conscientiously all his duties, suffered everything in order to live in peace and in tranquillity; when such a man, whose blood has been chilled by Time, renounces all his past and all his future, on the very edge of his grave--when a man does this, it is because he has decided with mature judgment that peace does not exist, and that there is no Supreme Good. What use is there in living a few miserable days in a foreign land? I had two sons, a daughter, a fireside, a fortune. I enjoyed consideration and esteem. Now I am like a tree that has been stripped of its branches; a wandering fugitive, hunted like a wild beast in the forest, and all--why? Because a man dishonored my daughter, because her brothers wanted to make that man account for his infamous deed, and because that man is placed above all others with a t.i.tle of Minister of G.o.d. But despite it all, I, a father, I, dishonored in my old age, pardoned the injury, for I was indulgent with the pa.s.sions of youth and the weakness of the flesh, and, as the evil was irreparable, I wanted to save what still remained to me. But the criminal, afraid that vengeance was near at hand, sought the destruction of my sons. What did he do? You do not know? Do you know how they feigned that there had been a robbery in the convent and how one of my sons figured among the accused? The other son they could not include because he was away. Do you know the tortures to which they were submitted? You know them because they are like those in other towns. I saw my son hung by the hair, I heard his cries, I heard him call me, and, coward that I was, and, accustomed to peace, I was not brave enough to kill or be killed. Do you know that the robbery was not proved, that it was seen that it was a calumny, that the curate was transferred to another town and that my son died from the result of his tortures? The other boy, who was still left for me, was not a coward like his father. The executioner was afraid that this son would take revenge for the death of his brother and so, under pretense of his not having a cedula, [19] which for the moment had been forgotten, he was imprisoned by the Civil Guard, maltreated, irritated and provoked by force and injuries until he was driven to suicide. And I have survived after such a disgrace. But, if I had not the courage of a father to defend his sons, I have left a heart to take vengeance and I shall be revenged! The discontented are uniting under my command, my enemies increase my camp, and on that day when I consider myself strong enough I will go down into the plain and extinguish in fire both my vengeance and my own existence. And that day will come or there is no G.o.d!"

The old man rose to his feet deeply agitated. With his eyes sparkling like fire and, in a hollow voice, he added, tearing his long hair:

"Curses upon me, curses upon me for having restrained the avenging hand of my sons. I have a.s.sa.s.sinated them! Had I allowed them to kill the criminal; had I had less faith in the justice of G.o.d and of men, I would now have my sons; perhaps they would have been fugitives, but I would have them and they would not have died in torture. I was not born to be a father! For that reason, I haven't them with me now! Curses upon me for not having learned, with all my years, in what age we live! But in blood and fire, and in my own death, I will know how to take vengeance for them!"

The unfortunate father, in the paroxysm of his grief, had taken off the bandage from his head, opening up a wound which he had on the forehead and from which the blood oozed out.

"I respect your grief," replied Elias, "and I understand your desire for vengeance. I, too, am like you, but, for fear of harming an innocent one, I prefer to forget my misfortunes."