brief dedications upon them. Then he said good-by to
Josefina, asking in a low voice some question to which she answered
in English, "Yes, yes," and aloud inquiring how she would be able to
gain a living, since all his property had been seized by the Spanish
government to satisfy the 20,000 pesetas costs which was included in
the sentence of death against him. Her reply was that she could earn
money giving lessons in English.

The journey from the Fort to the place of execution, then Bagumbayan
Field, now called the Luneta, was on foot. His arms were tied tightly
behind his back, and he was surrounded by a heavy guard. The Jesuits
accompanied him and some of his Dapitan schoolboys were in the crowd,
while one friendly voice, that of a Scotch merchant still resident
in Manila, called out in English, "Good-by, Rizal."

The route was along the Malecon Drive where as a college student he
had walked with his fiancee, Leonora. Above the city walls showed the
twin towers of the Ateneo, and when he asked about them, for they were
not there in his boyhood days, he spoke of the happy years that he
had spent in the old school. The beauty of the morning, too, appealed
to him, and may have recalled an experience of his '87 visit when he
said to a friend whom he met on the beach during an early morning walk:
"Do you know that I have a sort of foreboding that some such sunshiny
morning as this I shall be out here facing a firing squad?"

Troops held back the crowds and left a large square for the tragedy,
while artillery behind them was ready for suppressing any attempt at
rescuing the prisoner. None came, however, for though Rizal's brother
Paciano had joined the insurrectionary forces in Cavite when the death
sentence showed there was no more hope for Jose, he had discouraged
the demonstration that had been planned as soon as he learned how
scantily the insurgents were armed, hardly a score of serviceable
firearms being in the possession of their entire "army."

The firing squad was of Filipino soldiers, while behind them, better
armed, were Spaniards in case these tried to evade the fratricidal
part assigned them. Rizal's composure aroused the curiosity of a
Spanish military surgeon standing by and he asked, "Colleague, may
I feel your pulse?" Without other reply the prisoner twisted one of
his hands as far from his body as the cords which bound him allowed,
so that the other doctor could place his fingers on the wrist. The
bea