Ibarra, who had gone home for a change of clothing, had just finished dressing when a servant announced that a peasant wished to see him. Supposing it to be one of his laborers, he had him taken to his work room, which was at the same time his library and chemical laboratory. To his great surprise he found himself face to face with the mysterious Elias.

“You saved my life,” said the man, speaking in Tagalo, and understanding the movement of Ibarra. “I have not half paid my debt. Do not thank me. It is I who should thank you. I have come to ask a favor.”

“Speak!” said his listener.

Elias fixed his melancholy eyes on Ibarra’s and went on:

“When the justice of man tries to clear up this mystery, and your testimony is taken, I entreat you not to speak to any one of the warning I gave you.”

“Do not be alarmed,” said CrisÓstomo, losing interest; “I know you are pursued, but I’m not an informer.”

“I don’t speak for myself, but for you,” said Elias, with some haughtiness. “I have no fear of men.”

Ibarra grew surprised. This manner of speaking was new, and did not comport with the state or fortunes of the helmsman.

“Explain yourself!” he demanded.

“I am not speaking enigmas. To insure your safety, it is necessary that your enemies believe you blind and confiding.”

“To insure my safety?” said Ibarra, thoroughly aroused.

“You undertake a great enterprise,” Elias went on. “You have a past. Your grandfather and your father had enemies. It is not criminals who provoke the most hatred; it is honorable men.”

“You know my enemies, then?”

Elias hesitated.

“I knew one; the dead man.”

“I regret his death,” said Ibarra; “from him I might have learned more.”

“Had he lived, he would have escaped the trembling hand of men’s justice. God has judged him!”

“Do you also believe in the miracle of which the people talk?”

“If I believed in such a miracle, I should not believe in God, and I believe in Him; I have more than once felt His hand. At the moment when the scaffolding gave way I placed myself beside the criminal.” Elias looked at Ibarra.

“You—you mean that you——”

“Yes, when his deadly work was about to be done, he was going to flee; I held him there; I had seen his crime! Let God be the only one who has the right over life!”

“And yet, this time you——”

“No!” cried Elias. “I exposed the criminal to the risk he had prepared for others; I ran the risk myself; and I did not strike him; I left him to be struck by the hand of God!”

Ibarra regarded the man in silence.

“You are not a peasant,” he said at last. “Who are you? Have you studied?”

“I’ve need of much belief in God, since I’ve lost faith in men,” said Elias, evading the question.

“But God cannot speak to resolve each of the countless contests our passions raise; it is necessary, it is just, that man should sometimes judge his kind.”

“For good, yes; not for evil. To correct and ameliorate, not to destroy; because, if man’s judgments are erroneous, he has not the power to remedy the evil he has done. But this discussion is over my head, and I am detaining you. Do not forget what I came to entreat; save yourself for the good of your country!” And he started to go.

“And when shall I see you again?”

“Whenever you wish; whenever I can be of use to you; I am always your debtor!”