received these ceremoniously,
without losing her air of sadness.

"Bah! the proud little thing!" said one.

"Rather pretty," said another, "but he might have chosen some one
with a more intelligent face."

"But the money, my dear! The good fellow is selling himself."

In another group some one was saying:

"To marry when one's first fiance is going to be hung!"

"That is what is called prudent; having a substitute at hand."

"Then, when one becomes a widow----"

Possibly some of these remarks reached the ears of Maria Clara. She
grew paler, her hand trembled, her lips seemed to move.

In the circles of men the talk was loud, and naturally the recent
events were the subject of conversation. Everybody talked, even
Don Tiburcio.

"I hear that your reverence is about to leave the pueblo," said the
new lieutenant, whom his new star had made more amiable.

"I have no more to do there; I am to be placed permanently at
Manila. And you?" asked Father Salvi.

"I also leave the pueblo," said he, throwing back his shoulders;
"I am going with a flying column to rid the province of filibusters."

Father Salvi surveyed his old enemy from top to toe, and turned away
with a disdainful smile.

"Is it known certainly what is to be done with the chief
filibuster?" asked a clerk.

"You are speaking of Don Crisostomo Ibarra," replied another. "It is
very probable that he will be hung, like those of 1872, and it will
be very just."

"He is to be exiled," said the old lieutenant dryly.

"Exile! Nothing but exile?" cried numerous voices at once. "Then it
must be for life!"

"If the young man had been more prudent," went on Lieutenant Guevara,
speaking so that all might hear, "if he had confided less in certain
persons to whom he wrote, if our attorney-generals did not interpret
too subtly what they read, it is certain he would have been released."

This declaration of the old lieutenant's, and the tone of his voice,
produced a great surprise among his auditors. No one knew what to
say. Father Salvi looked away, perhaps to avoid the dark look the
lieutenant gave him. Maria Clara dropped some flowers she had in her
hand, and became a statue. Father Sibyla, who knew when to be silent,
seemed the only one who knew how to question.

"You speak of letters, Senor Guevara."

"I speak of what I am told by Don Crisostomo's advocate, who is
greatly interested in his case, and defended him with zeal. Outside
of a few ambiguous l