Father DÁmaso drove up in front of Captain Tiago’s house and the Franciscan stepped to the ground just as Aunt Isabel and Maria Clara were getting into their silver-trimmed carriage. They saluted Father DÁmaso, and he, in his preoccupation, gently patted Maria Clara on the cheek.

“Where are you going?” the friar asked.

“To the convent to get my things,” replied the younger.

“Ah, ha! Ah, ha! We’ll see who is the stronger. We’ll see!” he muttered and turned away, leaving the two women in wonder as to what it all meant. The friar stepped along lightly, and reaching the stairs, went up.

“He must be studying his sermon,” said Isabel. “Get in, Maria; we shall be late.”

Whether Father DÁmaso was studying his sermon or not we cannot say. At any rate, he was absorbed in some important matter, for he even forgot to extend his hand to Captain Tiago upon entering, greatly to the embarrassment of the Captain, who had to feign kissing it.

“Santiago, we have some very important matters to talk over; let us go to your office.”

The Captain, somewhat disturbed, was unable to reply, but he obeyed and followed the big priest into his office. Father DÁmaso shut the door behind them.

While they are conferring in secret, let us find out what has become of Brother Sibyla. The wise Dominican was not to be found at his parochial residence, for early, immediately after mass, he had gone to the Dominican convent, situated near the gate called Isabel the Second or Magallanes, according to which family is in power in Madrid. Paying no attention to the delicious odor of chocolate or to the rattling of money boxes and coins in the treasurer’s office, and scarcely answering the deferential salute of the treasurer, Father Sibyla went upstairs, crossed several corridors and rapped on a door.

“Come in!” answered a voice.

“May God give back health to Your Reverence!” was the greeting of the young Dominican as he entered.

A very feeble old priest was seated in a large arm-chair. His complexion was as yellow as the saints which Revera paints; his eyes were sunk deep in their orbits, and his heavy eyebrows, which were nearly always knit in a frown, added to the brilliant glare of his death-foreboding eyes.

“I have come to talk to you about the charge with which you have entrusted me,” said Father Sibyla.

“Ah, yes. And what about it?”

“Pshaw!” answered the young man with disgust, seating himself and turning his face away with disdain. “They have been telling us a lot of lies. Young Ibarra is a prudent boy. He does not seem to be a fool. I think he is a pretty good sort of a chap.”

“Do you think so?”

“Hostilities began last night.”

“So soon? And how did it come about?”

Father Sibyla related briefly what had taken place between Father DÁmaso and Crisostomo Ibarra.

“Furthermore,” he added, in conclusion, “the young man is going to marry that daughter of Captain Tiago, who was educated in the college of our sisters. He is rich and would not want to make any enemies who might cause the loss of his happiness and his fortune.”

The sick man bowed his head as a sign of assent. “Yes, that is my opinion. With such a wife and such a father-in-law we can hold him body and soul. And if not, it will be all the better for us if he declares himself our enemy.”

Father Sibyla looked at the old man with surprise.

“That is to say, for the good of our whole corporation,” he added, breathing with difficulty. “I prefer open attacks to the foolish praise and adulations of friends, for, the truth is, flattery is always paid for.”

“Does Your Reverence think so?”

The old man looked at him sadly. “Always bear this in mind,” he answered, panting with fatigue, “that our power will endure as long as it is believed in. If they attack us, the Government says, ‘They attack them, because they see in them an obstacle to their liberty, therefore let us preserve them.’”

“And if the Government gives them a hearing? Sometimes the Government——”

“The Government will do no such thing.”

“Nevertheless, if some bold and reckless man, impelled by covetousness, should dare to think that he wanted our possessions——”

“Then, woe to him!”

For a moment both remained silent.

“Furthermore,” continued the sick man, “it will do us good to have them attack us and wake us up. It would show us our weaknesses and strengthen us. The exaggerated praises which we get deceive us, and put us asleep. We are becoming ridiculous and on the day that we become ridiculous we shall fall as we fell in Europe. Money will no longer flow into our churches, no one will longer buy our scapularies or girdles, and when we cease to be rich we shall no longer possess the great influence which we wield at present.”

“Pshaw! We shall always have our property, our plantations——”

“We shall lose them all as we lost them in Europe. And the worst of it is that we are working for our own ruin. For instance, this immeasurable ambition to raise the incomes from our lands each year, this eagerness to increase the rents, which I have always opposed in vain, this eagerness will be our ruin. The natives already find themselves forced to buy land in other localities if they want lands as good as ours. I fear that we are degenerating. ‘Whom the gods would destroy they first make mad.’ For this reason we should not be too hard on the people, for they are already grumbling under our exactions. You have considered well. Let us leave this thing to others, and keep up the prestige which we have and let us endeavor to appear before God with clean hands. May the God of pity have mercy on our weaknesses!”

“So you believe that the tax or tribute——”

“Let us talk no more of money!” interrupted the sick man with disgust. “You were saying that the lieutenant and Father DÁmaso last night——”

“Yes, Father,” answered the young priest smiling. “But this morning I saw the lieutenant again and he told me that he was sorry for what had occurred at the dinner. He said he thought that he had been affected by too much wine and that the same was true of Father DÁmaso. ‘And your boast to tell the Governor?’ I asked jokingly. ‘Father,’ he answered, ‘I know when to make my word good so long as it does not stain my honor. That is just the reason why I wear only two stars.’”

After talking over several minor matters, Father Sibyla took his leave.

As a matter of fact the lieutenant had not gone to the Governor General’s palace in MelacaÑan with any report in regard to the occurrence of the preceding evening. However, the Governor General had learned of it through another source, and discussing the matter with one of his aides, he said:

“A woman and a priest can give no offense. I intend to live peaceably while I remain in this country and I do not wish to have any trouble with men who wear skirts. And, furthermore, I have found out that the Father Provincial has evaded my orders in this matter. I asked for the removal of that friar as a punishment. What was done? They removed him, but they gave him another and much better town. ‘Tricks of the friars,’ as they say in Spain.”

But when His Excellency found himself alone he ceased to smile. “Ah!” he sighed, “if the people were not so stupid they would put a limit to their reverences. But every people deserves its fate, and we are no different in this respect from the rest of the world.”

Meanwhile Captain Tiago had concluded his conference with Father DÁmaso, or rather Father DÁmaso had concluded it.

“I have already warned you!” said the Franciscan on taking his leave. “You could have avoided all of this had you consulted with me before, and, if you had not lied to me, when I asked you about it. See to it that you do not do any more such foolish things, and have faith in your godfather.”

Captain Tiago took two or three steps towards the sala, meditating and sighing. All at once, as if some good idea had struck him, he ran to the oratory and put out the candles and the lamps which had been lighted for Ibarra’s protection.

“There is still time enough,” he murmured, “for he has a long road to travel.”