u want?" asked the professor, almost in
a rage. "The pasquinades are attributed to the students of the
association--but, keep quiet!"

The professor of pathology came along, a man who had more the look
of a sacristan than of a physician. Appointed by the powerful mandate
of the Vice-Rector, without other merit than unconditional servility
to the corporation, he passed for a spy and an informer in the eyes
of the rest of the faculty.

The first professor returned his greeting coldly, and winked to
Basilio, as he said to him, "Now I know that Capitan Tiago smells like
a corpse--the crows and vultures have been gathering around him." So
saying, he went inside.

Somewhat calmed, Basilio now ventured to inquire for more details,
but all that he could learn was that pasquinades had been found on
the doors of the University, and that the Vice-Rector had ordered
them to be taken down and sent to the Civil Government. It was said
that they were filled with threats of assassination, invasion, and
other braggadocio.

The students made their comments on the affair. Their information
came from the janitor, who had it from a servant in Santo Tomas,
who had it from an usher. They prognosticated future suspensions and
imprisonments, even indicating who were to be the victims--naturally
the members of the association.

Basilio then recalled Simoun's words: "The day in which they can get
rid of you, you will not complete your course."

"Could he have known anything?" he asked himself. "We'll see who is
the most powerful."

Recovering his serenity, he went on toward the University, to learn
what attitude it behooved him to take and at the same time to see
about his licentiateship. He passed along Calle Legazpi, then down
through Beaterio, and upon arriving at the corner of this street
and Calle Solana saw that something important must indeed have
happened. Instead of the former lively, chattering groups on the
sidewalks were to be seen civil-guards making the students move on,
and these latter issuing from the University silent, some gloomy,
some agitated, to stand off at a distance or make their way home.

The first acquaintance he met was Sandoval, but Basilio called to him
in vain. He seemed to have been smitten deaf. "Effect of fear on the
gastro-intestinal juices," thought Basilio.

Later he met Tadeo, who wore a Christmas face--at last that eternal
holiday seemed to be realized.

"What has happened, Tadeo?"

"We'll h