countenance
the sentence of death for all those men, so that fresh terror seized
upon him. He felt cold, he leaned against the wall, and, with his
eyes fixed on the windows and his ears cocked, tried to guess what
might be happening. In the sala he saw the crowd surround Simoun
to look at the lamp, he heard congratulations and exclamations of
admiration--the words "dining-room," "novelty," were repeated many
times--he saw the General smile and conjectured that the novelty
was to be exhibited that very night, by the jeweler's arrangement,
on the table whereat his Excellency was to dine. Simoun disappeared,
followed by a crowd of admirers.

At that supreme moment his good angel triumphed, he forgot his hatreds,
he forgot Juli, he wanted to save the innocent. Come what might, he
would cross the street and try to enter. But Basilio had forgotten
that he was miserably dressed. The porter stopped him and accosted
him roughly, and finally, upon his insisting, threatened to call
the police.

Just then Simoun came down, slightly pale, and the porter turned
from Basilio to salute the jeweler as though he had been a saint
passing. Basilio realized from the expression of Simoun's face that he
was leaving the fated house forever, that the lamp was lighted. _Alea
jacta est!_ Seized by the instinct of self-preservation, he thought
then of saving himself. It might occur to any of the guests through
curiosity to tamper with the wick and then would come the explosion
to overwhelm them all. Still he heard Simoun say to the cochero,
"The Escolta, hurry!"

Terrified, dreading that he might at any moment hear the awful
explosion, Basilio hurried as fast as his legs would carry him to get
away from the accursed spot, but his legs seemed to lack the necessary
agility, his feet slipped on the sidewalk as though they were moving
but not advancing. The people he met blocked the way, and before he had
gone twenty steps he thought that at least five minutes had elapsed.

Some distance away he stumbled against a young man who was standing
with his head thrown back, gazing fixedly at the house, and in him
he recognized Isagani. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Come
away!"

Isagani stared at him vaguely, smiled sadly, and again turned his gaze
toward the open balconies, across which was revealed the ethereal
silhouette of the bride clinging to the groom's arm as they moved
slowly out of sight.

"Come, Isagani, let's get away from tha