hey were playing for the intellectual development of the
Filipinos, the instruction in Castilian, but had he known it he would
doubtless have joyfully entered into that _game_.

The open balcony admitted the fresh, pure breeze and revealed the lake,
whose waters murmured sweetly around the base of the edifice, as if
rendering homage. On the right, at a distance, appeared Talim Island,
a deep blue in the midst of the lake, while almost in front lay the
green and deserted islet of Kalamba, in the shape of a half-moon. To
the left the picturesque shores were fringed with clumps of bamboo,
then a hill overlooking the lake, with wide ricefields beyond, then
red roofs amid the deep green of the trees,--the town of Kalamba,--and
beyond the shore-line fading into the distance, with the horizon at
the back closing down over the water, giving the lake the appearance
of a sea and justifying the name the Indians give it of _dagat na
tabang_, or fresh-water sea.

At the end of the sala, seated before a table covered with documents,
was the secretary. His Excellency was a great worker and did not
like to lose time, so he attended to business in the intervals of
the game or while dealing the cards. Meanwhile, the bored secretary
yawned and despaired. That morning he had worked, as usual, over
transfers, suspensions of employees, deportations, pardons, and the
like, but had not yet touched the great question that had stirred so
much interest--the petition of the students requesting permission to
establish an academy of Castilian. Pacing from one end of the room to
the other and conversing animatedly but in low tones were to be seen
Don Custodio, a high official, and a friar named Padre Fernandez, who
hung his head with an air either of meditation or annoyance. From an
adjoining room issued the click of balls striking together and bursts
of laughter, amid which might be heard the sharp, dry voice of Simoun,
who was playing billiards with Ben-Zayb.

Suddenly Padre Camorra arose. "The devil with this game, _punales!_"
he exclaimed, throwing his cards at Padre Irene's head. "_Punales_,
that trick, if not all the others, was assured and we lost by
default! _Punales!_ The devil with this game!"

He explained the situation angrily to all the occupants of the sala,
addressing himself especially to the three walking about, as if he had
selected them for judges. The general played thus, he replied with
such a card, Padre Irene had a certain