LI.

PATRIOTISM AND INTEREST.

The telegraph had secretly transmitted to Manila the news of the uprising, and thirty-six hours later, the newspapers, their accounts expanded, corrected, and mutilated by the attorney-general, talked about it with much mystery and no little menace. Meanwhile the private accounts, coming out of the convents, had gone from mouth to mouth, to the great alarm of those who heard them. The fact, distorted in countless versions, was accepted as true with more or less readiness, according to its fitness to the passions and ideas of the different hearers.

Though public tranquillity was not disturbed, the peace of the hearthstones became like that of a fish-pond, all on top; underneath was commotion. Crosses, gold lace, office, power, honors of all kinds began to hover over one part of the population, like butterflies in a golden sunshine. For the others a dark cloud rose on the horizon, and against this ashy background stood in relief bars, chains, and the fateful arms of the gibbet. Destiny presented the event to the Manila imagination, like certain Chinese fans: one face painted black, the other gilded, and gorgeous with birds and flowers.

There was great agitation in the convents. The provincials ordered their carriages, and held secret conferences; then presented themselves at the palace, to offer their support to the imperiled government.

"A Te Deum, a Te Deum!" said a monk in one convent. "Through the goodness of God, our worth is made manifest in these perilous times!"

"This petty general, this prophet of evil, will gnaw his moustaches after this little lesson," said another.

"What would have become of him without the religious orders?"

"The papers almost go to the point of demanding a mitre for Brother Salvi."

"And he will get it! He's consumed with desire for it!"

"Do you think so?"

"Why shouldn't he be? In these days mitres are given for the asking."

"If mitres had eyes, and could see on what craniums----"

We spare our readers other comments of this nature. Let us enter the home of a private citizen, and as we know few people at Manila, we will knock at the door of Captain Tinong, the friendly and hospitable gentleman whom we saw inviting Ibarra, with so much insistence, to honor his house with a visit.

In his rich and spacious drawing-room, at Tondo, Captain Tinong is seated in a great arm-chair, passing his hand despairingly across his brow; while his weeping wife, the Capitana Tinchang, reads him a sermon, listened to by their two daughters, who are seated in a corner, mute with stupefaction.

"Ah, Virgin of Antipolo!" cried the wife. "Ah, Virgin of the Rosary; I told you so! I told you so! Ah, Virgin of Carmel! Ah!"

"Why, no! You didn't tell me anything," Captain Tinong finally ventured to reply. "On the contrary, you said I did well to keep up the friendship with Captain Tiago, and to go to his house, because--because he was rich; and you said----"

"What did I say? I didn't say it! I didn't say anything! Ah, if you had listened to me!"

"Now you throw the blame back on me!" said the captain bitterly, striking the arm of his chair with his fist. "Didn't you say I did well to invite him to dinner, because, as he was rich----"

"It is true I said that, because--because it couldn't be helped; you had already invited him; and you did nothing but praise him. Don Ibarra here, and Don Ibarra there, and Don Ibarra on all sides. But I didn't advise you to see him or to speak to him at the dinner. That you cannot deny!"

"Did I know, for instance, that he was to be there?"

"You ought to have known it!"

"How, if I wasn't even acquainted with him?"

"You ought to have been acquainted with him!"

"But, Tinchang, if it was the first time I had ever seen him or heard him spoken of?"

"You ought to have seen him before, you ought to have heard him spoken of; that's what you are a man for! And now, you will be sent into exile, our goods will be confiscated----Oh, if I were a man! if I were a man!"

"And if you were a man," asked the vexed husband, "what would you do?"

"What? Why, to-day, this very day, I should present myself to the captain-general, and offer to fight against the rebels, this very day!"

"But didn't you read what the Diario says? Listen! 'The infamous and abortive treason has been repressed with energy, force, and vigor, and the rebellious enemies of the country and their accomplices will promptly feel all the weight and all the severity of the laws!' You see, there is no rebellion!"

"That makes no difference, you should present yourself; many did it in 1872, and so nobody harmed them."

"Yes! it was done also by Father Bug----" But his wife's hands were over his mouth.

"Say it! Speak that name, so you may be hung to-morrow at Bagumbayan! Don't you know it is enough to get you executed without so much as a trial? Go on, say it!"

But though Captain Tinong had wished, he couldn't have done it. His wife held his mouth with both her hands, squeezing his little head against the back of the chair. Perhaps the poor man would have died of asphyxia, had not a new person come on the stage.

It was their cousin, Don Primitivo, who knew Amat by heart; a man of forty, large and corpulent, and dressed with the utmost care.

"Quid video?" he cried, upon entering; "what is going on?"

"Ah, cousin!" said the wife, weeping, and running to him, "I had you sent for, for I don't know what will become of us! What do you advise--you who have studied Latin and understand reasoning----"

"But quid quaeritis? Nihil est in intellectu quod prius non fuerit in sensu." And he sat down sedately. The Latin phrases seemed to have a tranquillizing effect; the husband and wife ceased to lament, and came nearer, awaiting the counsel of their cousin's lips, as once the Greeks awaited the saving phrase of the oracle.

"Why are you mourning? Ubinam gentium sumus?"

"You know the story of the uprising----"

"Well, what of it? Don Crisostomo owes you?"

"No! but do you know that Tinong invited him to dinner, and that he bowed to him on the bridge----in the middle of the day? They will say he was a friend of ours!"

"Friend?" cried the Latin, in alarm, rising; "tell me who your friends are, and I'll tell you who you are yourself! Malum est negotium et est timendum rerum istarum horrendissimum resultatum. Hum!"

So many words in um terrified Captain Tinong. He became frightfully pale. His wife joined her hands in supplication.

"Cousin, you speak to us now in Latin, but you know we haven't studied philosophy like you. Speak to us in Tagal or Castilian; give us your advice."

"It is deplorable that you do not know Latin, my cousin: Latin verities are lies in Tagalo. Contra principi negantem fustibus est arguendum, is, in Latin, a truth as veritable as Noah's ark. I once put it in practice in Tagalo, and it was I who got beaten. It is indeed a misfortune that you do not know Latin! In Latin it might all be arranged. You have done wrong, very wrong, cousins, to make friends with this young man. The just pay the dues of sinners. I feel almost like advising you to make your will!" and he moved his head gloomily from side to side.

"Saturnino, what ails you?" cried Capitana Tinchang, terrified. "Ah! Heaven! he is dead! A doctor! Tinong, Tinongy!"

"He has only fainted, cousin; bring some water." Don Primitivo sprinkled his face, and the unfortunate man revived.

"Come, come! don't weep! I've found a remedy. Put him in bed. Come, come! courage! I am with you, and all the wisdom of the ancients! Call a doctor, and this very day, cousin, go present yourself to the captain-general, and take him a present, a gold chain, a ring; say it's a Christmas present. Shut the windows and doors, and if any one asks for your husband, say he is seriously ill. Meanwhile I'll burn all the letters, papers, and books, as Don Crisostomo did. Scripti testes sunt! Go on to the captain's. Leave me to myself. In extremis extrema. Give me the power of a Roman dictator, and see whether I save the coun--What am I saying--the cousin!"

He commenced to upset the shelves of the library, and tear papers and letters. Then he lighted a fire on the kitchen hearth, and the auto-da-fe began. "'Revolutions of the Celestial Spheres,' by Copernicus. Whew! ite, maledicte, in ignem kalanis!" he cried, throwing it to the flames. "Revolution and Copernicus! Crime upon crime! If I don't get through soon enough! 'Liberty in the Philippines!' What books! Into the fire with them!" The most innocent works did not escape the common fate. Cousin Primitivo was right. The just pay for sinners.

Four or five hours later, at a fashionable gathering, the events of the day were being discussed. There were present a number of elderly married ladies and spinsters, together with the wives and daughters of clerks of the administration, all in European costume, fanning and yawning. Among the men, who, by their manners, showed their position, as did the women, was a man advanced in age, small and one-armed, who was treated with distinction, and who kept a reserved distance.

"I could never before suffer the monks and civil guards, because of their want of manners," a portly lady was saying, "but now that I see of what service they are, I could almost marry one of them. I am patriotic."

"I am of the very same mind," said a very prim spinster. "But what a pity the former governor isn't with us!"

"He would put an end to the race of filibusterillos!"

"Don't they say there are many islands yet uninhabited?"

"If I were the captain-general----"

"Senoras," said the one-armed man, "the captain-general knows his duty. I understand he is greatly irritated, for he had loaded this Ibarra with favors."

"Loaded him with favors!" repeated the slim gentlewoman, fanning furiously. "What ingrates these Indians are! Is it possible to treat them like human beings?"

"Do you know what I've heard?" asked an officer.

"No! What is it? What do they say?"

"People worthy of confidence say that all this noise about building a school was a pure pretext; what he meant to make was a fort for his own defence when he had been attacked."

"What infamy! Would any one but an Indian be capable of it?"

"But they say this filibustero is the son of a Spaniard," said the one-armed man, without looking at anybody.

"There it is again," cried the portly lady; "always these creoles! No Indian understands anything about revolution. Train crows, and they'll pick your eyes out!"

"Do you know what I've heard?" asked a pretty creole, to turn the conversation. "The wife of Captain Tinong--you remember? We danced and dined at his house at the fete of Tondo--well, the wife of Captain Tinong gave the captain-general, this afternoon, a ring worth a thousand pesos. She said it was a Christmas present."

"Christmas doesn't come for a month."

"She must have feared a downpour," said the stout lady.

"And so got under cover," said the slim.

"That is evident," said the one-armed man, thoughtfully. "I fear there is something back of this."

"I also," said the portly lady. "The wife of Captain Tinong is very parsimonious--she has never sent us presents, though we have been to her house. When such a person lets slip a little present of a thousand little pesos----"

"But is it certain?" demanded the one-armed man.

"Absolutely! His excellency's aide-de-camp told my cousin, to whom he is engaged. I'm tempted to believe it's a ring she wore the day of the fete. She's always covered with diamonds."

"That's one way of advertising! Instead of buying a lay-figure or renting a shop----"

The one-armed man found a pretext for leaving.

Two hours later, when all the city was asleep, certain inhabitants of Tondo received an invitation through the medium of soldiers. Authority could not permit people of position and property to sleep in houses so ill guarded. In the fortress of Santiago, and in other government buildings, their sleep would be more tranquil and refreshing. Among these people was the unfortunate Captain Tinong.