Ibarra found his mind in such a state that it was impossible for him to sleep. So, in order to divert himself and to drive away the gloomy idea which distracted his mind, he began work in his solitary laboratory. Morning came upon him, still at work making mixtures and compounds to the action of which he submitted pieces of cane and other substances, and afterward enclosed them in numbered and sealed flasks.

A servant entered, announcing the arrival of a peasant.

“Let him enter!” said he, without even turning to look.

Elias entered and remained standing in silence.

“Ah! is it you?” Ibarra exclaimed in Tagalog on recognizing him. “Excuse me if I have kept you waiting. I was not aware of your presence. I was making an important experiment.”

“I do not wish to disturb you!” replied the young pilot. “I have come in the first place, to ask you if you want anything from the province of Batangas, whither I am going now; and, in the second place, to give you some bad news.”

Ibarra looked inquiringly at the pilot.

“The daughter of Captain Tiago is ill,” added Elias quietly, “but the illness is not serious.”

“I had already feared it,” responded Ibarra. “Do you know what the illness is?”

“A fever. Now, if you have nothing to order——”

“Thanks, my friend. I wish you a good journey, but before you go, permit me to ask you a question. If it is indiscreet, do not answer me.”

Elias bowed.

“How were you able to quiet the mob last night?” asked Ibarra, fixing his eyes on him.

“In a very simple way,” replied Elias, with entire frankness. “At the head of it were two brothers whose father died from the effects of a whipping at the hands of the Civil Guard. One day I had the fortune to save them from the same hands into which their father fell, and for this both are under obligations to me. Last night I went to them, and requested them to dissuade the others from their purpose.”

“And those two brothers whose father died by being whipped to death?”

“They will end their lives in the same way,” replied Elias in a low voice. “When adversity has marked itself once on a family, all the members have to perish. When the lightning strikes a tree, it reduces it all to ashes.”

And Elias, seeing that Ibarra was silent, took his leave.

The latter on finding himself alone, lost the serenity of countenance which he had preserved in the presence of the pilot, and grief manifested itself in his face.

“I—I have made her suffer,” he muttered.

He quickly dressed himself and descended the stairs.

A little man, dressed in mourning, with a large scar on his left cheek, meekly saluted him, stopping him on his way.

“What do you wish?” Ibarra asked him.

“SeÑor, my name is Lucas. I am the brother of the man who was killed yesterday during the ceremony when the stone was being laid.”

“Ah! You have my sympathy—and, well?”

“SeÑor, I wish to know how much you are going to pay my brother’s family.”

“How much I am going to pay?” repeated the young man without being able to conceal a bored expression. “We will talk that over. Come back this afternoon, for I am busy to-day.”

“Only tell me how much you are going to pay,” insisted Lucas.

“I have told you that we would talk about that some other time. I’m too busy to-day,” said Ibarra, impatiently.

“You haven’t time now, seÑor?” asked Lucas with bitterness and putting himself in front of the young man. “You do not have time to occupy yourself about the dead?”

“Come this afternoon, my good fellow!” repeated Ibarra, restraining himself. “To-day I have to go and see a sick person.”

“Ah! and you forget the dead for a sick person? Do you think that because we are poor——”

Ibarra looked at him and cut off what he was saying.

“Don’t try my patience!” said he, and went on his way. Lucas stood looking at him, with a smile on his face, full of hatred.

“You do not know that you are a grandson of the man who exposed my father to the sun!” he muttered between his teeth. “You have the very same blood in your veins!”

And, changing his tone he added:

“But if you pay well, we are friends.”