give it up to
its owner, the philosopher Don Primitivo. Finding his own arguments
useless, Don Primitivo had appealed to an usher. "I don't care to,"
the hero responded to the latter's protests, placidly puffing at his
cigarette. The usher appealed to the manager. "I don't care to," was
the response, as he settled back in the seat. The manager went away,
while the artillerymen in the gallery began to sing out encouragement
to the usurper.

Our hero, now that he had attracted general attention, thought that
to yield would be to lower himself, so he held on to the seat, while
he repeated his answer to a pair of guards the manager had called
in. These, in consideration of the rebel's rank, went in search of
their corporal, while the whole house broke out into applause at the
firmness of the hero, who remained seated like a Roman senator.

Hisses were heard, and the inflexible gentleman turned angrily to see
if they were meant for him, but the galloping of horses resounded
and the stir increased. One might have said that a revolution had
broken out, or at least a riot, but no, the orchestra had suspended
the waltz and was playing the royal march: it was his Excellency, the
Captain-General and Governor of the islands, who was entering. All
eyes sought and followed him, then lost sight of him, until he
finally appeared in his box. After looking all about him and making
some persons happy with a lordly salute, he sat down, as though he
were indeed the man for whom the chair was waiting. The artillerymen
then became silent and the orchestra tore into the prelude.

Our students occupied a box directly facing that of Pepay, the
dancing girl. Her box was a present from Makaraig, who had already
got on good terms with her in order to propitiate Don Custodio. Pepay
had that very afternoon written a note to the illustrious arbiter,
asking for an answer and appointing an interview in the theater. For
this reason, Don Custodio, in spite of the active opposition he
had manifested toward the French operetta, had gone to the theater,
which action won him some caustic remarks on the part of Don Manuel,
his ancient adversary in the sessions of the Ayuntamiento.

"I've come to judge the operetta," he had replied in the tone of a
Cato whose conscience was clear.

So Makaraig was exchanging looks of intelligence with Pepay, who was
giving him to understand that she had something to tell him. As the
dancing girl's face wore a happy expres