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The luck of that unfortunate, who had asked for help and received his dismissal, pained the high official and he tried to do something for him.
"It's certain," he insinuated rather timidly, "that education is not at all well provided for--"
"I've already decreed large sums for the purchase of supplies,"
exclaimed his Excellency haughtily, as if to say, "I've done more than I ought to have done."
"But since suitable locations are lacking, the supplies purchased get ruined."
"Everything can't be done at once," said his Excellency dryly. "The schoolmasters here are doing wrong in asking for buildings when those in Spain starve to death. It's great presumption to be better off here than in the mother country itself!"
"Filibusterism--"
"Before everything the fatherland! Before everything else we are Spaniards!" added Ben-Zayb, his eyes glowing with patriotism, but he blushed somewhat when he noticed that he was speaking alone.
"In the future," decided the General, "all who complain will be suspended."
"If my project were accepted--" Don Custodio ventured to remark, as if talking to himself.
"For the construction of schoolhouses?"
"It's simple, practical, economical, and, like all my projects, derived from long experience and knowledge of the country. The towns would have schools without costing the government a cuarto."
"That's easy," observed the secretary sarcastically. "Compel the towns to construct them at their own expense," whereupon all laughed.
"No, sir! No, sir!" cried the exasperated Don Custodio, turning very red. "The buildings are already constructed and only wait to be utilized. Hygienic, unsurpa.s.sable, s.p.a.cious--"
The friars looked at one another uneasily. Would Don Custodio propose that the churches and conventos be converted into schoolhouses?
"Let's hear it," said the General with a frown.
"Well, General, it's very simple," replied Don Custodio, drawing himself up and a.s.suming his hollow voice of ceremony. "The schools are open only on week-days and the c.o.c.kpits on holidays. Then convert these into schoolhouses, at least during the week."
"Man, man, man!"
"What a lovely idea!"
"What's the matter with you, Don Custodio?"
"That's a grand suggestion!"
"That beats them all!"
"But, gentlemen," cried Don Custodio, in answer to so many exclamations, "let's be practical--what places are more suitable than the c.o.c.kpits? They're large, well constructed, and under a curse for the use to which they are put during the week-days. From a moral standpoint my project would be acceptable, by serving as a kind of expiation and weekly purification of the temple of chance, as we might say."
"But the fact remains that sometimes there are c.o.c.kfights during the week," objected Padre Camorra, "and it wouldn't be right when the contractors of the c.o.c.kpits pay the government--" [23]
"Well, on those days close the school!"
"Man, man!" exclaimed the scandalized Captain-General. "Such an outrage shall never be perpetrated while I govern! To close the schools in order to gamble! Man, man, I'll resign first!" His Excellency was really horrified.
"But, General, it's better to close them for a few days than for months."
"It would be immoral," observed Padre Irene, more indignant even than his Excellency.
"It's more immoral that vice has good buildings and learning none. Let's be practical, gentlemen, and not be carried away by sentiment. In politics there's nothing worse than sentiment. While from humane considerations we forbid the cultivation of opium in our colonies, we tolerate the smoking of it, and the result is that we do not combat the vice but impoverish ourselves."
"But remember that it yields to the government, without any effort, more than four hundred and fifty thousand pesos," objected Padre Irene, who was getting more and more on the governmental side.
"Enough, enough, enough!" exclaimed his Excellency, to end the discussion. "I have my own plans in this regard and will devote special attention to the matter of public instruction. Is there anything else?"
The secretary looked uneasily toward Padre Sibyla and Padre Irene. The cat was about to come out of the bag. Both prepared themselves.
"The pet.i.tion of the students requesting authorization to open an academy of Castilian," answered the secretary.
A general movement was noted among those in the room. After glancing at one another they fixed their eyes on the General to learn what his disposition would be. For six months the pet.i.tion had lain there awaiting a decision and had become converted into a kind of _casus belli_ in certain circles. His Excellency had lowered his eyes, as if to keep his thoughts from being read.
The silence became embarra.s.sing, as the General understood, so he asked the high official, "What do you think?"
"What should I think, General?" responded the person addressed, with a shrug of his shoulders and a bitter smile. "What should I think but that the pet.i.tion is just, very just, and that I am surprised that six months should have been taken to consider it."
"The fact is that it involves other considerations," said Padre Sibyla coldly, as he half closed his eyes.
The high official again shrugged his shoulders, like one who did not comprehend what those considerations could be.
"Besides the intemperateness of the demand," went on the Dominican, "besides the fact that it is in the nature of an infringement on our prerogatives--"
Padre Sibyla dared not go on, but looked at Simoun.
"The pet.i.tion has a somewhat suspicious character," corroborated that individual, exchanging a look with the Dominican, who winked several times.
Padre Irene noticed these things and realized that his cause was almost lost--Simoun was against him.
"It's a peaceful rebellion, a revolution on stamped paper," added Padre Sibyla.
"Revolution? Rebellion?" inquired the high official, staring from one to the other as if he did not understand what they could mean.
"It's headed by some young men charged with being too radical and too much interested in reforms, not to use stronger terms," remarked the secretary, with a look at the Dominican. "Among them is a certain Isagani, a poorly balanced head, nephew of a native priest--"
"He's a pupil of mine," put in Padre Fernandez, "and I'm much pleased with him."
"_Punales,_ I like your taste!" exclaimed Padre Camorra. "On the steamer we nearly had a fight. He's so insolent that when I gave him a shove aside he returned it."
"There's also one Makaragui or Makarai--"
"Makaraig," Padre Irene joined in. "A very pleasant and agreeable young man."
Then he murmured into the General's ear, "He's the one I've talked to you about, he's very rich. The Countess recommends him strongly."
"Ah!"