were heard on one of the streets of the town, two shots resounded,
but no one seemed to be alarmed and silence again reigned.

CHAPTER XVI

Sisa

Through the dark night the villagers slept. The families who had
remembered their dead gave themselves up to quiet and satisfied sleep,
for they had recited their requiems, the novena of the souls, and had
burned many wax tapers before the sacred images. The rich and powerful
had discharged the duties their positions imposed upon them. On the
following day they would hear three masses said by each priest and
would give two pesos for another, besides buying a bull of indulgences
for the dead. Truly, divine justice is not nearly so exacting as human.

But the poor and indigent who earn scarcely enough to keep themselves
alive and who also have to pay tribute to the petty officials, clerks,
and soldiers, that they may be allowed to live in peace, sleep not
so tranquilly as gentle poets who have perhaps not felt the pinches
of want would have us believe. The poor are sad and thoughtful, for
on that night, if they have not recited many prayers, yet they have
prayed much--with pain in their eyes and tears in their hearts. They
have not the novenas, nor do they know the responsories, versicles,
and prayers which the friars have composed for those who lack original
ideas and feelings, nor do they understand them. They pray in the
language of their misery: their souls weep for them and for those
dead beings whose love was their wealth. Their lips may proffer
the salutations, but their minds cry out complaints, charged with
lamentations. Wilt Thou be satisfied, O Thou who blessedst poverty,
and you, O suffering souls, with the simple prayers of the poor,
offered before a rude picture in the light of a dim wick, or do
you perhaps desire wax tapers before bleeding Christs and Virgins
with small mouths and crystal eyes, and masses in Latin recited
mechanically by priests? And thou, Religion preached for suffering
humanity, hast thou forgotten thy mission of consoling the oppressed
in their misery and of humiliating the powerful in their pride? Hast
thou now promises only for the rich, for those who, can pay thee?

The poor widow watches among the children who sleep at her side. She
is thinking of the indulgences that she ought to buy for the repose
of the souls of her parents and of her dead husband. "A peso,"
she says, "a peso is a week of happiness for my children, a week