CHAPTER X
LIGHTS AND SHADOWS.
The people of the town have made their preparation for the festival in
honor of the patron saint, San Diego, and are gossiping about it, and
about the arrival of Maria Clara, accompanied by her aunt Isabel. They
rejoiced over it, because they liked her, and admired her beauty very
much. They also rejoiced in the change it had made in the priest,
Father Salvi. "He is often absent-minded during the holy services,"
they said. "He scarcely speaks with us, and he plainly grows more
thin and taciturn." His cook saw this constantly and complained of the
little honor that he did his dishes. But what most excited the wonder
of the people were the two lights which one could see shining in the
convent during the night, while Father Salvi was visiting at the house
of Maria Clara! The old dames crossed themselves and kept on gossiping.
Juan Crisostomo Ibarra had telegraphed from the capital of the province
his compliments to Aunt Isabel and her niece, but he had not explained
his absence. Many thought that he had been arrested for assaulting
Father Salvi on the afternoon of "All Saint's Day." But the comments
increased still more when, on the afternoon of the third day, they
saw Ibarra get out of a carriage in front of the little house of his
betrothed, and courteously salute the priest, who was also making
his way thither.
If we go to Maria Clara's house, we will find it like a little nest
among orange and ilang-ilang trees, surrounded by flowers and vines
which creep up on bamboo sticks and wires, diffusing their delicious
perfume. The rich fragrance of the ilang-ilang reaches even to
the window which looks out on the lake. Here sit the two young
lovers. Ibarra was saying to Maria Clara:
"To-morrow, before the first ray of morning, your desire shall be
fulfilled. To-night, I shall arrange all so that nothing will be
lacking."
"Then I will write to my friends, so that they may come along. Arrange
it so that the priest cannot come."
"And why?"
"Because he seems to be watching me. His deep and sombre eyes pain
me. When he fixes them upon me, they frighten me. He speaks to me of
extraordinary things, so incomprehensible, so strange. He asked me
once if I had not dreamed about my mother's letters. I believe he
is half crazy. My friend Sinang, and Andeng, my foster sister, say
that he is a little out of his head, for he neither eats nor bathes,
and he lives entirely in the darkness. Don't have him come!"
"We cannot but invite him," replied Ibarra. "The customs of the
country require it. He is the priest of your house and, besides, he has
conducted himself nobly toward me. When the Alcalde consulted him on
the business of which I have spoken to you, he had nothing but praises
for me and did not pretend to offer the slightest obstacle. But I see
that you are serious. I shall take care that he does not accompany
us in the boat."
Light steps were heard. They were those of the priest, who was
approaching with a forced smile on his lips. They began to talk of
different subjects, about the weather, the town and the festival. Maria
Clara devised an excuse and went out.
"And while we are speaking about festivals," said Ibarra, "allow me to
invite you to the one which we are going to celebrate to-morrow. It is
going to be a country picnic, which we and our friends are planning."
"And where will it be held?"
"The girls want to hold it near the brook in the woods, near the balitî
tree. So we will have to get up early to reach the place before the
sun gets hot."
The priest reflected, and a moment later replied: "The invitation
is very tempting, and I accept it in order to prove that I hold no
grudge against you for what has happened in the past. But I will have
to be a little late, as I must fulfill my religious duties first. How
happy to be like you, entirely free and independent!"
A few minutes later, Ibarra took his leave in order to arrange for
the picnic on the following day. It was already quite dark when he
left the house.
