ithout taking his hand
from the back of the chair.

"Since you command it, I obey," concluded Fray Sibyla, disposing
himself to take the seat.

"I don't command it!" protested the Franciscan. "I don't command it!"

Fray Sibyla was about to seat himself without paying any more attention
to these protests when his eyes happened to encounter those of the
lieutenant. According to clerical opinion in the Philippines, the
highest secular official is inferior to a friar-cook: _cedant arma
togae_, said Cicero in the Senate--_cedant arma cottae_, say the
friars in the Philippines. [28]

But Fray Sibyla was a well-bred person, so he said, "Lieutenant, here
we are in the world and not in the church. The seat of honor belongs
to you." To judge from the tone of his voice, however, even in the
world it really did belong to him, and the lieutenant, either to keep
out of trouble or to avoid sitting between two friars, curtly declined.

None of the claimants had given a thought to their host. Ibarra
noticed him watching the scene with a smile of satisfaction.

"How's this, Don Santiago, aren't you going to sit down with us?"

But all the seats were occupied; Lucullus was not to sup in the house
of Lucullus.

"Sit still, don't get up!" said Capitan Tiago, placing his hand on
the young man's shoulder. "This fiesta is for the special purpose
of giving thanks to the Virgin for your safe arrival. _Oy!_ Bring
on the _tinola!_ I ordered _tinola_ as you doubtless have not tasted
any for so long a time."

A large steaming tureen was brought in. The Dominican, after muttering
the benedicite, to which scarcely any one knew how to respond, began
to serve the contents. But whether from carelessness or other cause,
Padre Damaso received a plate in which a bare neck and a tough wing
of chicken floated about in a large quantity of soup amid lumps of
squash, while the others were eating legs and breasts, especially
Ibarra, to whose lot fell the second joints. Observing all this, the
Franciscan mashed up some pieces of squash, barely tasted the soup,
dropped his spoon noisily, and roughly pushed his plate away. The
Dominican was very busy talking to the rubicund youth.

"How long have you been away from the country?" Laruja asked Ibarra.

"Almost seven years."

"Then you have probably forgotten all about it."

"Quite the contrary. Even if my country does seem to have forgotten
me, I have always thought about it."

"How do you mean that