y toward me. When
the alcalde consulted him about the business of which I've told you,
he had only praises for me and didn't try to put the least obstacle
in the way. But I see that you're serious about it, so cease worrying,
for he won't go in the same boat with us."

Light footsteps were heard. It was the curate, who approached with a
forced smile on his lips. "The wind is chilly," he said, "and when
one catches cold one generally doesn't get rid of it until the hot
weather. Aren't you afraid of catching cold?" His voice trembled
and his eyes were turned toward the distant horizon, away from the
young people.

"No, we rather find the night pleasant and the breeze delicious,"
answered Ibarra. "During these months we have our autumn and our
spring. Some leaves fall, but the flowers are always in bloom."

Fray Salvi sighed.

"I think the union of these two seasons beautiful, with no cold winter
intervening," continued Ibarra. "In February the buds on the trees
will burst open and in March we'll have the ripe fruit. When the hot
month's come we shall go elsewhere."

Fray Salvi smiled and began to talk of commonplace things, of the
weather, of the town, and of the fiesta. Maria Clara slipped away on
some pretext.

"Since we are talking of fiestas, allow me to invite you to the one
that we are going to celebrate tomorrow. It is to be a picnic in the
woods, which we and our friends are going to hold together."

"Where will it be held?"

"The young women wish to hold it by the brook in the neighboring wood,
near to the old balete, so we shall rise early to avoid the sun."

The priest thought a moment and then answered: "The invitation is
very tempting and I accept it to prove to you that I hold no rancor
against you. But I shall have to go late, after I've attended to my
duties. Happy are you who are free, entirely free."

A few moments later Ibarra left in order to look after the arrangements
for the picnic on the next day. The night was dark and in the street
some one approached and saluted him respectfully.

"Who are you?" asked Ibarra.

"Sir, you don't know my name," answered the unknown, "but I've been
waiting for you two days."

"For what purpose?"

"Because nowhere has any pity been shown me and they say that I'm an
outlaw, sir. But I've lost my two sons, my wife is insane, and every
one says that I deserve what has happened to me."

Ibarra looked at the man critically as he asked, "What do you want