now?"

"To beg for your pity upon my wife and sons."

"I can't stop now," replied Ibarra. "If you wish to come, you can
tell me as we go along what has happened to you."

The man thanked him, and the two quickly disappeared in the shadows
along the dimly lighted street.

CHAPTER XXIII

Fishing

The stars still glittered in the sapphire arch of heaven and the birds
were still sleeping among the branches when a merry party, lighted
by torches of resin, commonly called _huepes_, made its way through
the streets toward the lake. There were five girls, who walked along
rapidly with hands clasped or arms encircling one another's waists,
followed by some old women and by servants who were carrying gracefully
on their heads baskets of food and dishes. Looking upon the laughing
and hopeful countenances of the young women and watching the wind blow
about their abundant black hair and the wide folds of their garments,
we might have taken them for goddesses of the night fleeing from the
day, did we not know that they were Maria Clara and her four friends,
the merry Sinang, the grave Victoria, the beautiful Iday, and the
thoughtful Neneng of modest and timid beauty. They were conversing
in a lively manner, laughing and pinching one another, whispering in
one another's ears and then breaking out into loud laughter.

"You'll wake up the people who are still asleep," Aunt Isabel
scolded. "When we were young, we didn't make so much disturbance."

"Neither would you get up so early nor would the old folks have been
such sleepy-heads," retorted little Sinang.

They were silent for a short time, then tried to talk in low tones,
but soon forgot themselves and again filled the street with their
fresh young voices.

"Behave as if you were displeased and don't talk to him," Sinang was
advising Maria Clara. "Scold him so he won't get into bad habits."

"Don't be so exacting," objected Iday.

"Be exacting! Don't be foolish! He must be made to obey while he's
only engaged, for after he's your husband he'll do as he pleases,"
counseled little Sinang.

"What do you know about that, child?" her cousin Victoria corrected
her.

"Sst! Keep quiet, for here they come!"

A group of young men, lighting their way with large bamboo torches,
now came up, marching gravely along to the sound of a guitar.

"It sounds like a beggar's guitar," laughed Sinang. When the two
parties met it was the women who maintained a serious and for