Two days later Brother Salvi presented himself at the house of Captain Tiago. The Franciscan was more gaunt and pale than usual; but as he went up the steps a strange light shone in his eyes, and his lips parted in a strange smile. Captain Tiago kissed his hand, and took his hat and cane, smiling beatifically.

“I bring good news,” said the curate as he entered the drawing-room; “good news for everybody. I have letters from Manila confirming the one SeÑor Ibarra brought me, so that I believe, Don Santiago, the obstacle is quite removed.”

Maria Clara, seated at the piano, made a movement to rise, but her strength failed her and she had to sit down again. Linares grew pale; Captain Tiago lowered his eyes.

“The young man seems to me very sympathetic,” said the curate. “At first I misjudged him. He is impulsive, but when he commits a fault, he knows so well how to atone for it that one is forced to forgive him. If it were not for Father DÁmaso——” And the curate flashed a glance at Maria Clara. She was listening with all her being, but did not take her eyes off her music, in spite of the pinches that were expressing Sinang’s joy. Had they been alone they would have danced.

“But Father DÁmaso has said,” continued the curate, without losing sight of Maria Clara, “that as godfather he could not permit; but, indeed, I believe if SeÑor Ibarra will ask his pardon everything will arrange itself.”

Maria rose, made an excuse, and with Victorina left the room.

“And if Father DÁmaso does not pardon him?” asked Don Santiago in a low voice.

“Then Maria Clara must decide. But I believe the matter can be arranged.”

The sound of an arrival was heard, and Ibarra entered. His coming made a strange impression. Captain Tiago did not know whether to smile or weep. Father Salvi rose and offered his hand so affectionately that CrisÓstomo could scarcely repress a look of surprise.

“Where have you been all day?” demanded wicked Sinang. “We asked each other: ‘What can have taken that soul newly rescued from perdition?’ and each of us had her opinion.”

“And am I to know what each opinion was?”

“No, not yet! Tell me where you went, so I can see who made the best guess.”

“That’s a secret too; but I can tell you by yourself if these gentlemen will permit.”

“Certainly, certainly?” said Father Salvi. Sinang drew CrisÓstomo to the other end of the great room.

“Tell me, little friend,” said he, “is Maria angry with me?”

“I don’t know. She says you had best forget her, and then she cries. This morning when we were wondering where you were I said to tease her: ‘Perhaps he has gone a-courting.’ But she was quite grave, and said: ‘It is God’s will!’”

“Tell Maria I must see her alone,” said Ibarra, troubled.

“It will be difficult, but I’ll try to manage it.”

“And when shall I know?”

“To-morrow. But you are going without telling me the secret!”

“So I am. Well, I went to the pueblo of Los BaÑos to see about some cocoanut trees!”

“What a secret!” cried Sinang aloud in a tone of a usurer despoiled.

“Take care, I really don’t want you to speak of it.”

“I’ve no desire to,” said Sinang scornfully. “If it had been really of importance I should have told my friends; but cocoanuts, cocoanuts, who cares about cocoanuts!” and she ran off to find Maria.

Conversation languished, and Ibarra soon took his leave. Captain Tiago was torn between the bitter and the sweet. Linares said nothing. Only the curate affected gayety and recounted tales.