und. The narrator proceeded: "I took charge of the
case for your father. I called upon the celebrated Filipino lawyer,
young A----a, but he refused to undertake the defense. 'I would lose
the case,' he said, 'my defense would cause new accusations against
him, and perhaps bring them upon me. Go and see Senor M----, who is an
eloquent orator, a Spaniard and a man of great reputation.' I did so,
and the celebrated lawyer took charge of the case, which he conducted
in a masterful and brilliant manner. But your father had many enemies,
some of whom did their work secretly. There were many false witnesses
in the case, and their calumnies, which anywhere else would have been
overthrown by a single sarcastic phrase from the defending attorney,
were here given a great deal of weight. As fast as the attorney
proved the falsity of their accusations, new charges were brought
forward. They accused him of having wrongfully taken possession of
a large tract of land. They sued him for damages and for injuries
caused. They said that he had dealings with the organized bandits
or tulisanes, and that thus he had been able to keep his property
unmolested. In fact, the case became so complicated that within a year
no one understood it. The chief magistrate was called away from his
post and replaced by another of good reputation, but unfortunately
this magistrate, too, was displaced in a few months.

"The sufferings, disappointments and discomforts of prison life,
and his great grief at seeing the ingratitude of so many supposed
friends, finally broke down your father's iron constitution and he
became fatally ill. When it was all over; when he had proved himself
not guilty of being an enemy to his country, and innocent of the
death of the tax collector, he died in prison, with no one to care
for him in his last hours. I arrived just as he was expiring."

The old man had finished all he had to say. Ibarra, overcome with
grief at the pathetic story he had heard, could not utter a word. The
two had arrived at the gate of the barracks. Stopping and shaking
hands with the young man, the officer said: "My boy, Captain Tiago
can give you the details. I must say good night, for my duty calls
me." With deep emotion, Ibarra grasped the lean hand of the lieutenant,
and then looked after him in silence until he disappeared in the
building. Turning slowly about, he saw a carriage passing and made
a sign to the cabman.

"Lala's Hotel," he said in a low