l rumor cut short their dispute. The robbers caught
had made some important revelations. One of the outlaws under
_Matanglawin_ (Cabesang Tales) had made an appointment with them to
join his band in Santa Mesa, thence to sack the conventos and houses
of the wealthy. They would be guided by a Spaniard, tall and sunburnt,
with white hair, who said that he was acting under the orders of the
General, whose great friend he was, and they had been further assured
that the artillery and various regiments would join them, wherefore
they were to entertain no fear at all. The tulisanes would be pardoned
and have a third part of the booty assigned to them. The signal was
to have been a cannon-shot, but having waited for it in vain the
tulisanes, thinking themselves deceived, separated, some going back
to their homes, some returning to the mountains vowing vengeance on
the Spaniard, who had thus failed twice to keep his word. Then they,
the robbers caught, had decided to do something on their own account,
attacking the country-house that they found closest at hand, resolving
religiously to give two-thirds of the booty to the Spaniard with
white hair, if perchance he should call upon them for it.

The description being recognized as that of Simoun, the declaration
was received as an absurdity and the robber subjected to all kinds
of tortures, including the electric machine, for his impious
blasphemy. But news of the disappearance of the jeweler having
attracted the attention of the whole Escolta, and the sacks of powder
and great quantities of cartridges having been discovered in his
house, the story began to wear an appearance of truth. Mystery began
to enwrap the affair, enveloping it in clouds; there were whispered
conversations, coughs, suspicious looks, suggestive comments, and
trite second-hand remarks. Those who were on the inside were unable
to get over their astonishment, they put on long faces, turned pale,
and but little was wanting for many persons to lose their minds in
realizing certain things that had before passed unnoticed.

"We've had a narrow escape! Who would have said--"

In the afternoon Ben-Zayb, his pockets filled with revolvers and
cartridges, went to see Don Custodio, whom he found hard at work over
a project against American jewelers. In a hushed voice he whispered
between the palms of his hands into the journalist's ear mysterious
words.

"Really?" questioned Ben-Zayb, slapping his hand on his pocket a