of the lamp filled his imagination, the great catastrophe that
would occur within two hours. Pondering over this, he seemed to see
the men who passed before his eyes walking without heads, and he felt a
thrill of ferocious joy in telling himself that, hungry and destitute,
he that night was going to be dreaded, that from a poor student and
servant, perhaps the sun would see him transformed into some one
terrible and sinister, standing upon pyramids of corpses, dictating
laws to all those who were passing before his gaze now in magnificent
carriages. He laughed like one condemned to death and patted the butt
of the revolver. The boxes of cartridges were also in his pockets.

A question suddenly occurred to him--where would the drama begin? In
his bewilderment he had not thought of asking Simoun, but the
latter had warned him to keep away from Calle Anloague. Then came a
suspicion: that afternoon, upon leaving the prison, he had proceeded
to the former house of Capitan Tiago to get his few personal effects
and had found it transformed, prepared for a fiesta--the wedding of
Juanito Pelaez! Simoun had spoken of a fiesta.

At this moment he noticed passing in front of him a long line of
carriages filled with ladies and gentlemen, conversing in a lively
manner, and he even thought he could make out big bouquets of flowers,
but he gave the detail no thought. The carriages were going toward
Calle Rosario and in meeting those that came down off the Bridge
of Spain had to move along slowly and stop frequently. In one he
saw Juanito Pelaez at the side of a woman dressed in white with a
transparent veil, in whom he recognized Paulita Gomez.

"Paulita!" he ejaculated in surprise, realizing that it was indeed
she, in a bridal gown, along with Juanito Pelaez, as though they
were just coming from the church. "Poor Isagani!" he murmured,
"what can have become of him?"

He thought for a while about his friend, a great and generous soul,
and mentally asked himself if it would not be well to tell him about
the plan, then answered himself that Isagani would never take part
in such a butchery. They had not treated Isagani as they had him.

Then he thought that had there been no imprisonment, he would have
been betrothed, or a husband, at this time, a licentiate in medicine,
living and working in some corner of his province. The ghost of
Juli, crushed in her fall, crossed his mind, and dark flames of
hatred lighted his eyes; again he ca