ro nobis!"

After a time, things quieted down and there was a terrible silence. The
voice of the alferez was distinguished, as he came running in, and
crying: "Father curate! Father Salvi! Come!"

"Misere! The alferez is asking for confession!" cried Aunt Isabel.

"Is he wounded?" asked Linares at last. "Ah!"

"Come, Father Salvi! There is nothing to fear now," continued the
alferez, shouting.

Father Salvi, pale, and decided at last, came out of his hiding-place
and went downstairs.

"The tulisanes have killed the alferez!" said Aunt Isabel.

"Maria Clara, Sinang, go to your room! Fasten the door! Kyrie eleison!"

Ibarra also went toward the stairs, in spite of Aunt Isabel, who was
saying: "Don't go out! You haven't confessed yet. Don't go out!"

The good old woman had been a great friend of Ibarra's mother.

But Ibarra left the house. It seemed to him that all about him was
revolving through the air, that even the ground was gone from under his
feet. His ears buzzed. His legs moved heavily and irregularly. Waves
of blood, light and darkness, succeeded one another on the retina of
his eye.

Despite the fact that the moon was shining brightly in the heavens, the
young man stumbled on every stone in the solitary and deserted street.

Near the cuartel he saw some soldiers with their bayonets fixed,
talking excitedly. He passed by unseen.

In the tribunal, blows, cries, wails, and curses were heard. The
alferez's voice drowned all the others.

"Put him in the stocks! Put handcuffs on that fellow! Two shots for
whoever moves! Sergeant, you will mount your guard! Let no one pass,
not even God! Corporal, let no one sleep!"

Ibarra hastened his steps toward his house. His servants were uneasily
awaiting him.

"Saddle the best horse and go to bed!" said he to them.

He entered his laboratory and hurriedly began to get his travelling
bag ready. He opened an iron box, took out all the money which he
found there and put it in a bag. He gathered his jewels together,
took down a picture of Maria Clara which was hanging upon the wall,
and, arming himself with a dirk and two revolvers, he turned to the
cupboard where he had some tools.

At that instant, three blows, loud and strong, sounded on the door.

"Who's there?" asked Ibarra, in a doleful voice.

"Open in the name of the King! Open the door at once, or we will
knock it down!" replied an imperious Spanish voice.

Ibarra looked toward the window. His eye