noyed--what did I know? Now misfortune has torn
the bandage from my eyes; the solitude and misery of my prison have
taught me; now I see the horrible cancer which feeds upon this society,
which clutches its flesh, and which demands a violent rooting out. They
have opened my eyes, they have made me see the sore, and they force me
to be a criminal! Since they wish it, I will be a filibuster, a real
filibuster, I mean. I will call together all the unfortunates, all who
feel a heart beat in their breasts, all those who were sending you to
me. No, I will not be a criminal, never is he such who fights for his
native land, but quite the reverse! We, during three centuries, have
extended them our hands, we have asked love of them, we have yearned
to call them brothers, and how do they answer us? With insults and
jests, denying us even the chance character of human beings. There
is no God, there is no hope, there is no humanity; there is nothing
but the right of might!" Ibarra was nervous, his whole body trembled.

As they passed in front of the Captain-General's palace they thought
that they could discern movement and excitement among the guards.

"Can they have discovered your flight?" murmured Elias. "Lie down,
sir, so that I can cover you with zacate. Since we shall pass near
the powder-magazine it may seem suspicious to the sentinel that there
are two of us."

The banka was one of those small, narrow canoes that do not seem to
float but rather to glide over the top of the water. As Elias had
foreseen, the sentinel stopped him and inquired whence he came.

"From Manila, to carry zacate to the judges and curates," he answered,
imitating the accent of the people of Pandakan.

A sergeant came out to learn what was happening. "Move on!" he said
to Elias. "But I warn you not to take anybody into your banka. A
prisoner has just escaped. If you capture him and turn him over to
me I'll give you a good tip."

"All right, sir. What's his description?"

"He wears a sack coat and talks Spanish. So look out!" The banka moved
away. Elias looked back and watched the silhouette of the sentinel
standing on the bank of the river.

"We'll lose a few minutes' time," he said in a low voice. "We must
go into the Beata River to pretend that I'm from Penafrancia. You
will see the river of which Francisco Baltazar sang."

The town slept in the moonlight, and Crisostomo rose up to admire the
sepulchral peace of nature. The river was narrow