The Social Cancer - 16

chessmen, others the cards, while the girls, curious about the future,
chose to put questions to a _Wheel of Fortune_.
"Come, Señor Ibarra," called Capitan Basilio in merry mood, "we have
a lawsuit fifteen years old, and there isn't a judge in the Audiencia
who can settle it. Let's see if we can't end it on the chess-board."
"With the greatest pleasure," replied the youth. "Just wait a moment,
the alferez is leaving."
Upon hearing about this match all the old men who understood chess
gathered around the board, for it promised to be an interesting one,
and attracted even spectators who were not familiar with the game. The
old women, however, surrounded the curate in order to converse with him
about spiritual matters, but Fray Salvi apparently did not consider
the place and time appropriate, for he gave vague answers and his
sad, rather bored, looks wandered in all directions except toward
his questioners.
The chess-match began with great solemnity. "If this game ends in a
draw, it's understood that the lawsuit is to be dropped," said Ibarra.
In the midst of the game Ibarra received a telegram which caused
his eyes to shine and his face to become pale. He put it into his
pocketbook, at the same time glancing toward the group of young people,
who were still with laughter and shouts putting questions to Destiny.
"Check to the king!" called the youth.
Capitan Basilio had no other recourse than to hide the piece behind
the queen.
"Check to the queen!" called the youth as he threatened that piece
with a rook which was defended by a pawn.
Being unable to protect the queen or to withdraw the piece on account
of the king behind it, Capitan Basilio asked for time to reflect.
"Willingly," agreed Ibarra, "especially as I have something to say this
very minute to those young people in that group over there." He arose
with the agreement that his opponent should have a quarter of an hour.
Iday had the round card on which were written the forty-eight
questions, while Albino held the book of answers.
"A lie! It's not so!" cried Sinang, half in tears.
"What's the matter?" asked Maria Clara.
"Just imagine, I asked, 'When shall I have some sense?' I threw the
dice and that worn-out priest read from the book, 'When the frogs
raise hair.' What do you think of that?" As she said this, Sinang
made a grimace at the laughing ex-theological student.
"Who told you to ask that question?" her cousin Victoria asked her. "To
ask it is enough to deserve such an answer."
"You ask a question," they said to Ibarra, offering him the
wheel. "We're decided that whoever gets the best answer shall receive
a present from the rest. Each of us has already had a question."
"Who got the best answer?"
"Maria Clara, Maria Clara!" replied Sinang. "We made her ask,
willy-nilly, 'Is your sweetheart faithful and constant?' And the
book answered--"
But here the blushing Maria Clara put her hands over Sinang's mouth
so that she could not finish.
"Well, give me the wheel," said Crisostomo, smiling. "My question is,
'Shall I succeed in my present enterprise?'"
"What an ugly question!" exclaimed Sinang.
Ibarra threw the dice and in accordance with the resulting number
the page and line were sought.
"Dreams are dreams," read Albino.
Ibarra drew out the telegram and opened it with trembling hands. "This
time your book is wrong!" he exclaimed joyfully. "Read this: 'School
project approved. Suit decided in your favor.'"
"What does it mean?" all asked.
"Didn't you say that a present is to be given to the one receiving
the best answer?" he asked in a voice shaking with emotion as he tore
the telegram carefully into two pieces.
"Yes, yes!"
"Well then, this is my present," he said as he gave one piece to
Maria Clara. "A school for boys and girls is to be built in the town
and this school is my present."
"And the other part, what does it mean?"
"It's to be given to the one who has received the worst answer."
"To me, then, to me!" cried Sinang.
Ibarra gave her the other piece of the telegram and hastily withdrew.
"What does it mean?" she asked, but the happy youth was already at
a distance, returning to the game of chess.
Fray Salvi in abstracted mood approached the circle of young
people. Maria Clara wiped away her tears of joy, the laughter ceased,
and the talk died away. The curate stared at the young people without
offering to say anything, while they silently waited for him to speak.
"What's this?" he at length asked, picking up the book and turning
its leaves.
"_The Wheel of Fortune_, a book of games," replied Leon.
"Don't you know that it's a sin to believe in these things?" he
scolded, tearing the leaves out angrily.
Cries of surprise and anger escaped from the lips of all.
"It's a greater sin to dispose of what isn't yours, against the wish
of the owner," contradicted Albino, rising. "Padre, that's what is
called stealing and it is forbidden by God and men!"
Maria Clara clasped her hands and gazed with tearful eyes at the
remnants of the book which a few moments before had been the source
of so much happiness for her.
Contrary to the general expectation, Fray Salvi did not reply to
Albino, but stood staring at the torn leaves as they were whirled
about, some falling in the wood, some in the water, then he staggered
away with his hands over his head. He stopped for a few moments
to speak with Ibarra, who accompanied him to one of the carriages,
which were at the disposal of the guests.
"He's doing well to leave, that kill-joy," murmured Sinang. "He has
a face that seems to say, 'Don't laugh, for I know about your sins!'"
After making the present to his fiancée, Ibarra was so happy that
he began to play without reflection or a careful examination of the
positions of the pieces. The result was that although Capitan Basilio
was hard pressed the game became a stalemate, owing to many careless
moves on the young man's part.
"It's settled, we're at peace!" exclaimed Capitan Basilio heartily.
"Yes, we're at peace," repeated the youth, "whatever the decision of
the court may be." And the two shook hands cordially.
While all present were rejoicing over this happy termination of a
quarrel of which both parties were tired, the sudden arrival of a
sergeant and four soldiers of the Civil Guard, all armed and with
bayonets fixed, disturbed the mirth and caused fright among the women.
"Keep still, everybody!" shouted the sergeant. "Shoot any one who
moves!"
In spite of this blustering command, Ibarra arose and approached the
sergeant. "What do you want?" he asked.
"That you deliver to us at once a criminal named Elias, who was your
pilot this morning," was the threatening reply.
"A criminal--the pilot? You must be mistaken," answered Ibarra.
"No, sir, this Elias has just been accused of putting his hand on
a priest--"
"Oh, was that the pilot?"
"The very same, according to reports. You admit persons of bad
character into your fiestas, Señor Ibarra."
Ibarra looked him over from head to foot and replied with great
disdain, "I don't have to give you an account of my actions! At our
fiestas all are welcome. Had you yourself come, you would have found
a place at our table, just as did your alferez, who was with us a
couple of hours ago." With this he turned his back.
The sergeant gnawed at the ends of his mustache but, considering
himself the weaker party, ordered the soldiers to institute a search,
especially among the trees, for the pilot, a description of whom he
carried on a piece of paper.
Don Filipo said to him, "Notice that this description fits nine tenths
of the natives. Don't make any false move!"
After a time the soldiers returned with the report that they
had been unable to see either banka or man that could be called
suspicious-looking, so the sergeant muttered a few words and went
away as he had come--in the manner of the Civil Guard!
The merriment was little by little restored, amid questions and
comments.
"So that's the Elias who threw the alferez into the mudhole," said
Leon thoughtfully.
"How did that happen? How was it?" asked some of the more curious.
"They say that on a very rainy day in September the alferez met a man
who was carrying a bundle of firewood. The road was very muddy and
there was only a narrow path at the side, wide enough for but one
person. They say that the alferez, instead of reining in his pony,
put spurs to it, at the same time calling to the man to get out
of the way. It seemed that this man, on account of the heavy load
he was carrying on his shoulder, had little relish for going back
nor did he want to be swallowed up in the mud, so he continued on
his way forward. The alferez in irritation tried to knock him down,
but he snatched a piece of wood from his bundle and struck the pony
on the head with such great force that it fell, throwing its rider
into the mud. They also say that the man went on his way tranquilly
without taking any notice of the five bullets that were fired after
him by the alferez, who was blind with mud and rage. As the man was
entirely unknown to him it was supposed that he might be the famous
Elias who came to the province several months ago, having come from
no one knows where. He has given the Civil Guard cause to know him
in several towns for similar actions."
"Then he's a tulisan?" asked Victoria shuddering.
"I don't think so, for they say that he fought against some tulisanes
one day when they were robbing a house."
"He hasn't the look of a criminal," commented Sinang.
"No, but he looks very sad. I didn't see him smile the whole morning,"
added Maria Clara thoughtfully.
So the afternoon passed away and the hour for returning to the
town came. Under the last rays of the setting sun they left
the woods, passing in silence by the mysterious tomb of Ibarra's
ancestors. Afterwards, the merry talk was resumed in a lively manner,
full of warmth, beneath those branches so little accustomed to hear
so many voices. The trees seemed sad, while the vines swung back and
forth as if to say, "Farewell, youth! Farewell, dream of a day!"
Now in the light of the great red torches of bamboo and with the
sound of the guitars let us leave them on the road to the town. The
groups grow smaller, the lights are extinguished, the songs die away,
and the guitar becomes silent as they approach the abodes of men. Put
on the mask now that you are once more amongst your kind!


CHAPTER XXV
In the House of the Sage

On the morning of the following day, Ibarra, after visiting his lands,
made his way to the home of old Tasio. Complete stillness reigned in
the garden, for even the swallows circling about the eaves scarcely
made any noise. Moss grew on the old wall, over which a kind of ivy
clambered to form borders around the windows. The little house seemed
to be the abode of silence.
Ibarra hitched his horse carefully to a post and walking almost on
tiptoe crossed the clean and well-kept garden to the stairway, which
he ascended, and as the door was open, he entered. The first sight that
met his gaze was the old man bent over a book in which he seemed to be
writing. On the walls were collections of insects and plants arranged
among maps and stands filled with books and manuscripts. The old man
was so absorbed in his work that he did not notice the presence of the
youth until the latter, not wishing to disturb him, tried to retire.
"Ah, you here?" he asked, gazing at Ibarra with a strange
expression. "Excuse me," answered the youth, "I see that you're
very busy--"
"True, I was writing a little, but it's not urgent, and I want to
rest. Can I do anything for you?"
"A great deal," answered Ibarra, drawing nearer, "but--"
A glance at the book on the table caused him to exclaim in surprise,
"What, are you given to deciphering hieroglyphics?"
"No," replied the old man, as he offered his visitor a chair. "I don't
understand Egyptian or Coptic either, but I know something about the
system of writing, so I write in hieroglyphics."
"You write in hieroglyphics! Why?" exclaimed the youth, doubting what
he saw and heard.
"So that I cannot be read now."
Ibarra gazed at him fixedly, wondering to himself if the old man were
not indeed crazy. He examined the book rapidly to learn if he was
telling the truth and saw neatly drawn figures of animals, circles,
semicircles, flowers, feet, hands, arms, and such things.
"But why do you write if you don't want to be read?"
"Because I'm not writing for this generation, but for other ages. If
this generation could read, it would burn my books, the labor of
my whole life. But the generation that deciphers these characters
will be an intelligent generation, it will understand and say,
'Not all were asleep in the night of our ancestors!' The mystery of
these curious characters will save my work from the ignorance of men,
just as the mystery of strange rites has saved many truths from the
destructive priestly classes."
"In what language do you write?" asked Ibarra after a pause.
"In our own, Tagalog."
"Are the hieroglyphical signs suitable?"
"If it were not for the difficulty of drawing them, which takes time
and patience, I would almost say that they are more suitable than the
Latin alphabet. The ancient Egyptian had our vowels; our _o_, which
is only final and is not like that of the Spanish, which is a vowel
between _o_ and _u_. Like us, the Egyptians lacked the true sound of
_e_, and in their language are found our _ha_ and _kha_, which we
do not have in the Latin alphabet such as is used in Spanish. For
example, in this word _mukha_," he went on, pointing to the book,
"I transcribe the syllable _ha_ more correctly with the figure of
a fish than with the Latin _h_, which in Europe is pronounced in
different ways. For a weaker aspirate, as for example in this word
_haín_, where the _h_ has less force, I avail myself of this lion's
head or of these three lotus flowers, according to the quantity of
the vowel. Besides, I have the nasal sound which does not exist in
the Latin-Spanish alphabet. I repeat that if it were not for the
difficulty of drawing them exactly, these hieroglyphics could almost
be adopted, but this same difficulty obliges me to be concise and
not say more than what is exact and necessary. Moreover, this work
keeps me company when my guests from China and Japan go away."
"Your guests from China and Japan?"
"Don't you hear them? My guests are the swallows. This year one of
them is missing--some bad boy in China or Japan must have caught it."
"How do you know that they come from those countries?"
"Easily enough! Several years ago, before they left I tied to
the foot of each one a slip of paper with the name 'Philippines'
in English on it, supposing that they must not travel very far and
because English is understood nearly everywhere. For years my slips
brought no reply, so that at last I had it written in Chinese and here
in the following November they have returned with other notes which
I have had deciphered. One is written in Chinese and is a greeting
from the banks of the Hoang-Ho and the other, as the Chinaman whom
I consulted supposes, must be in Japanese. But I'm taking your time
with these things and haven't asked you what I can do for you."
"I've come to speak to you about a matter of importance," said the
youth. "Yesterday afternoon--"
"Have they caught that poor fellow?"
"You mean Elias? How did you know about him?"
"I saw the Muse of the Civil Guard!"
"The Muse of the Civil Guard? Who is she?"
"The alferez's woman, whom you didn't invite to your picnic. Yesterday
morning the incident of the cayman became known through the town. The
Muse of the Civil Guard is as astute as she is malignant and she
guessed that the pilot must be the bold person who threw her husband
into the mudhole and who assaulted Padre Damaso. As she reads all the
reports that her husband is to receive, scarcely had he got back home,
drunk and not knowing what he was doing, when to revenge herself on
you she sent the sergeant with the soldiers to disturb the merriment
of your picnic. Be careful! Eve was a good woman, sprung from the
hands of God--they say that Doña Consolacion is evil and it's not
known whose hands she came from! In order to be good, a woman needs
to have been, at least sometime, either a maid or a mother."
Ibarra smiled slightly and replied by taking some documents from his
pocketbook. "My dead father used to consult you in some things and
I recall that he had only to congratulate himself on following your
advice. I have on hand a little enterprise, the success of which
I must assure." Here he explained briefly his plan for the school,
which he had offered to his fiancée, spreading out in view of the
astonished Sage some plans which had been prepared in Manila.
"I would like to have you advise me as to what persons in the
town I must first win over in order to assure the success of the
undertaking. You know the inhabitants well, while I have just arrived
and am almost a stranger in my own country."
Old Tasio examined the plans before him with tear-dimmed eyes. "What
you are going to do has been my dream, the dream of a poor lunatic!" he
exclaimed with emotion. "And now the first thing that I advise you
to do is never to come to consult with me."
The youth gazed at him in surprise.
"Because the sensible people," he continued with bitter irony, "would
take you for a madman also. The people consider madmen those who do
not think as they do, so they hold me as such, which I appreciate,
because the day in which they think me returned to sanity, they will
deprive me of the little liberty that I've purchased at the expense
of the reputation of being a sane individual. And who knows but they
are right? I do not live according to their rules, my principles
and ideals are different. The gobernadorcillo enjoys among them the
reputation of being a wise man because he learned nothing more than
to serve chocolate and to put up with Padre Damaso's bad humor, so now
he is wealthy, he disturbs the petty destinies of his fellow-townsmen,
and at times he even talks of justice. 'That's a man of talent,' think
the vulgar, 'look how from nothing he has made himself great!' But I,
I inherited fortune and position, I have studied, and now I am poor,
I am not trusted with the most ridiculous office, and all say, 'He's a
fool! He doesn't know how to live!' The curate calls me 'philosopher'
as a nickname and gives to understand that I am a charlatan who is
making a show of what I learned in the higher schools, when that is
exactly what benefits me the least. Perhaps I really am the fool and
they the wise ones--who can say?"
The old man shook his head as if to drive away that thought, and
continued: "The second thing I can advise is that you consult the
curate, the gobernadorcillo, and all persons in authority. They will
give you bad, stupid, or useless advice, but consultation doesn't
mean compliance, although you should make it appear that you are
taking their advice and acting according to it."
Ibarra reflected a moment before he replied: "The advice is good, but
difficult to follow. Couldn't I go ahead with my idea without a shadow
being thrown upon it? Couldn't a worthy enterprise make its way over
everything, since truth doesn't need to borrow garments from error?"
"Nobody loves the naked truth!" answered the old man. "That is good
in theory and practicable in the world of which youth dreams. Here is
the schoolmaster, who has struggled in a vacuum; with the enthusiasm
of a child, he has sought the good, yet he has won only jests and
laughter. You have said that you are a stranger in your own country,
and I believe it. The very first day you arrived you began by wounding
the vanity of a priest who is regarded by the people as a saint, and
as a sage among his fellows. God grant that such a misstep may not have
already determined your future! Because the Dominicans and Augustinians
look with disdain on the _guingón_ habit, the rope girdle, and the
immodest foot-wear, because a learned doctor in Santo Tomas [75]
may have once recalled that Pope Innocent III described the statutes
of that order as more fit for hogs than men, don't believe but that
all of them work hand in hand to affirm what a preacher once said,
'The most insignificant lay brother can do more than the government
with all its soldiers!' _Cave ne cadas!_ [76] Gold is powerful--the
golden calf has thrown God down from His altars many times, and that
too since the days of Moses!"
"I'm not so pessimistic nor does life appear to me so perilous in
my country," said Ibarra with a smile. "I believe that those fears
are somewhat exaggerated and I hope to be able to carry out my plans
without meeting any great opposition in that quarter."
"Yes, if they extend their hands to you; no, if they withhold them. All
your efforts will be shattered against the walls of the rectory if
the friar so much as waves his girdle or shakes his habit; tomorrow
the alcalde will on some pretext deny you what today he has granted;
no mother will allow her son to attend the school, and then all your
labors will produce a counter-effect--they will dishearten those who
afterwards may wish to attempt altruistic undertakings."
"But, after all," replied the youth, "I can't believe in that power of
which you speak, and even supposing it to exist and making allowance
for it, I should still have on my side the sensible people and the
government, which is animated by the best intentions, which has great
hopes, and which frankly desires the welfare of the Philippines."
"The government! The government!" muttered the Sage, raising his eyes
to stare at the ceiling. "However inspired it may be with the desire
for fostering the greatness of the country for the benefit of the
country itself and of the mother country, however some official or
other may recall the generous spirit of the Catholic Kings [77] and
may agree with it, too, the government sees nothing, hears nothing,
nor does it decide anything, except what the curate or the Provincial
causes it to see, hear, and decide. The government is convinced that it
depends for its salvation wholly on them, that it is sustained because
they uphold it, and that the day on which they cease to support it,
it will fall like a manikin that has lost its prop. They intimidate
the government with an uprising of the people and the people with
the forces of the government, whence originates a simple game, very
much like what happens to timid persons when they visit gloomy places,
taking for ghosts their own shadows and for strange voices the echoes
of their own. As long as the government does not deal directly with
the country it will not get away from this tutelage, it will live
like those imbecile youths who tremble at the voice of their tutor,
whose kindness they are begging for. The government has no dream of
a healthy future; it is the arm, while the head is the convento. By
this inertia with which it allows itself to be dragged from depth to
depth, it becomes changed into a shadow, its integrity is impaired,
and in a weak and incapable way it trusts everything to mercenary
hands. But compare our system of government with those of the countries
you have visited--"
"Oh!" interrupted Ibarra, "that's asking too much! Let us content
ourselves with observing that our people do not complain or suffer as
do the people of other countries, thanks to Religion and the benignity
of the governing powers.
"This people does not complain because it has no voice, it does not
move because it is lethargic, and you say that it does not suffer
because you haven't seen how its heart bleeds. But some day you will
see this, you will hear its complaints, and then woe unto those who
found their strength on ignorance and fanaticism! Woe unto those
who rejoice in deceit and labor during the night, believing that all
are asleep! When the light of day shows up the monsters of darkness,
the frightful reaction will come. So many sighs suppressed, so much
poison distilled drop by drop, so much force repressed for centuries,
will come to light and burst! Who then will pay those accounts which
oppressed peoples present from time to time and which History preserves
for us on her bloody pages?"
"God, the government, and Religion will not allow that day to
come!" replied Ibarra, impressed in spite of himself. "The Philippines
is religious and loves Spain, the Philippines will realize how much
the nation is doing for her. There are abuses, yes, there are defects,
that cannot be denied, but Spain is laboring to introduce reforms
that will correct these abuses and defects, she is formulating plans,
she is not selfish!"
"I know it, and that is the worst of it! The reforms which emanate
from the higher places are annulled in the lower circles, thanks to
the vices of all, thanks, for instance, to the eager desire to get
rich in a short time, and to the ignorance of the people, who consent
to everything. A royal decree does not correct abuses when there is
no zealous authority to watch over its execution, while freedom of
speech against the insolence of petty tyrants is not conceded. Plans
will remain plans, abuses will still be abuses, and the satisfied
ministry will sleep in peace in spite of everything. Moreover,
if perchance there does come into a high place a person with great
and generous ideas, he will begin to hear, while behind his back he
is considered a fool, 'Your Excellency does not know the country,
your Excellency does not understand the character of the Indians,
your Excellency is going to ruin them, your Excellency will do well
to trust So-and-so,' and his Excellency in fact does not know the
country, for he has been until now stationed in America, and besides
that, he has all the shortcomings and weaknesses of other men, so he
allows himself to be convinced. His Excellency also remembers that
to secure the appointment he has had to sweat much and suffer more,
that he holds it for only three years, that he is getting old and
that it is necessary to think, not of quixotisms, but of the future:
a modest mansion in Madrid, a cozy house in the country, and a good
income in order to live in luxury at the capital--these are what
he must look for in the Philippines. Let us not ask for miracles,
let us not ask that he who comes as an outsider to make his fortune
and go away afterwards should interest himself in the welfare of the
country. What matters to him the gratitude or the curses of a people
whom he does not know, in a country where he has no associations,
where he has no affections? Fame to be sweet must resound in the
ears of those we love, in the atmosphere of our home or of the land
that will guard our ashes; we wish that fame should hover over our
tomb to warm with its breath the chill of death, so that we may
not be completely reduced to nothingness, that something of us may
survive. Naught of this can we offer to those who come to watch over
our destinies. And the worst of all this is that they go away just
when they are beginning to get an understanding of their duties. But
we are getting away from our subject."
"But before getting back to it I must make some things plain,"
interrupted the youth eagerly. "I can admit that the government does
not know the people, but I believe that the people know the government
even less. There are useless officials, bad ones, if you wish, but
there are also good ones, and if these are unable to do anything it
is because they meet with an inert mass, the people, who take little
part in the affairs that concern them. But I didn't come to hold a
discussion with you on that point, I came to ask for advice and you