"Come, Senor Ibarra!" cried Captain Basilio, a little gayer than usual; "we've had a case in court for fifteen years and no judge is able to solve it; let's see if we cannot end it at chess."

"In a moment, with great pleasure," said Ibarra; "the alferez is leaving us."

As soon as the officer had gone the men grouped around the two players. It was to be an interesting game. The elder ladies meanwhile had surrounded the curate, to talk with him of the things of religion; but Brother Salvi seemed to judge the time unfitting and made but vague replies, his rather irritated glance being directed almost everywhere except toward his questioners.

The chess players began with much solemnity.

"If the game is a tie, the affair is forgotten!" said Ibarra.

In the midst of the play he received a despatch. His eyes shone and he became pale, but he put the message in his pocket without opening it.

"Check!" he cried. Captain Basilio had no recourse but to hide his king behind the queen.

"Check!" said Ibarra, threatening with his castle.

Captain Basilio asked a moment to reflect.

"Willingly," said Ibarra; "I, too, should like a moment," and excusing himself he went toward the group round the "Wheel of Fortune."

Iday had the disc on which were the forty-eight questions, Albino the book of replies.

"Ask something," they all cried to Ibarra, as he came up. "The one who has the best answer is to receive a present from the others."

"And who has had the best so far?"

"Maria Clara!" cried Sinang. "We made her ask whether her lover is constant and true, and the book said----"

But Maria, all blushes, put her hand over Sinang's mouth.

"Give me the 'Wheel' then," said Crisostomo, smiling. And he asked:

"Shall I succeed in my present undertaking?"

"What a stupid question!" pouted Sinang.

The corresponding answer was found in the book. "'Dreams are dreams,'"

read Albino.

Ibarra brought out his telegram and opened it, trembling.

"This time your wheel lies!" he cried. "Read!"

"'Project for school approved.' What does that mean?" they asked.

"This is my present," said he, giving the despatch to Maria Clara. "I'm to build a school in the pueblo; the school is my offering." And the young fellow ran back to his game of chess.

After making this present to his fiancee, Ibarra was so happy that he played without reflection, and, thanks to his many false moves, the captain re-established himself, and the game was a draw. The two men shook hands with effusion.

While they were thus making an end of the long and tedious suit, the sudden appearance of a sergeant and four armed guards, bayonets fixed, broke rudely in upon the merry-makers.

"Whoever stirs is a dead man!" cried the sergeant.

In spite of this bl.u.s.ter, Ibarra went up to him and asked what he wanted.

"We want a criminal named Elias, who was your helmsman this morning,"

replied the officer, still threatening.

"A criminal? The helmsman? You must be mistaken."

"No, senor, this Elias is accused of having raised his hand against a priest. You admit questionable people to your fetes."

Ibarra looked him over from head to foot and replied with great coldness.

"I am in no way accountable to you for my actions. Every one is welcome at my fetes." And he turned away.

The sergeant, finding he was making no headway, ordered his men to search on all sides. They had the helmsman's description on paper.

"Notice that this description answers well for nine-tenths of the natives," said Don Filipo; "see that you make no mistakes!"

Quiet came back little by little. There were no end of questions.

"So this is the Elias who threw the alferez into the swamp," said Leon.

"He's a tulisane then?" asked Victoria, trembling.

"I think not, for I know that he once fought against the tulisanes."

"He hasn't the face of a criminal," said Sinang.

"No; but his face is very sad," said Maria. "I did not see him smile all the morning."

The day was ending, and in the last rays of the setting sun everybody left the wood, pa.s.sing in silence the tomb of Ibarra's ancestor. Farther on conversation again became animated, gay, full of warmth, under these branches little used to merry-making. But the trees appeared sad, and the swaying bindweed seemed to say: "Adieu, youth! Adieu, dream of a day!"

XXI.

WITH THE PHILOSOPHER.

The next morning, Juan Crisostomo Ibarra, after visiting his land, turned his horse toward old Tasio's.

Complete quiet reigned in the old man's garden; scarcely did the swallows make a sound as they flew round the roof. The old walls of the house were mossy, and ivy framed the windows. It seemed the abode of silence.

Ibarra tied his horse, crossed the neat garden, almost on tiptoe, and entered the open door. He found the old man in his study, surrounded by his collections of insects and leaves, his maps, ma.n.u.script, and books. He was writing, and so absorbed in his work that he did not notice the entrance of Ibarra until the young man, loath to disturb him, was leaving as quietly as he had come.

"What! you were there?" he cried, looking at Crisostomo with a certain astonishment.