no, [75] or at least,
Brutus and other heroes of antiquity.

Such a sacrifice could not remain unrewarded, the gods of journalism
being pleased with Abraham Ben-Zayb. Almost upon the hour came
the reporting angel bearing the sacrificial lamb in the shape of
an assault committed at a country-house on the Pasig, where certain
friars were spending the heated season. Here was his opportunity and
Ben-Zayb praised his gods.

"The robbers got over two thousand pesos, leaving badly wounded one
friar and two servants. The curate defended himself as well as he
could behind a chair, which was smashed in his hands."

"Wait, wait!" said Ben-Zayb, taking notes. "Forty or fifty
outlaws traitorously--revolvers, bolos, shotguns, pistols--lion at
bay--chair--splinters flying--barbarously wounded--ten thousand pesos!"

So great was his enthusiasm that he was not content with mere reports,
but proceeded in person to the scene of the crime, composing on the
road a Homeric description of the fight. A harangue in the mouth of
the leader? A scornful defiance on the part of the priest? All the
metaphors and similes applied to his Excellency, Padre Irene, and
Padre Salvi would exactly fit the wounded friar and the description
of the thief would serve for each of the outlaws. The imprecation
could be expanded, since he could talk of religion, of the faith,
of charity, of the ringing of bells, of what the Indians owed to
the friars, he could get sentimental and melt into Castelarian [76]
epigrams and lyric periods. The senoritas of the city would read the
article and murmur, "Ben-Zayb, bold as a lion and tender as a lamb!"

But when he reached the scene, to his great astonishment he learned
that the wounded friar was no other than Padre Camorra, sentenced by
his Provincial to expiate in the pleasant country-house on the banks
of the Pasig his pranks in Tiani. He had a slight scratch on his hand
and a bruise on his head received from flattening himself out on the
floor. The robbers numbered three or four, armed only with bolos,
the sum stolen fifty pesos!

"It won't do!" exclaimed Ben-Zayb. "Shut up! You don't know what
you're talking about."

"How don't I know, _punales?_"

"Don't be a fool--the robbers must have numbered more."

"You ink-slinger--"

So they had quite an altercation. What chiefly concerned Ben-Zayb
was not to throw away the article, to give importance to the affair,
so that he could use the peroration.

But a fearfu