e narrow walls of the convent. It seemed as though
the butterfly upon leaving its shell knew all the flowers at once. It
was enough that she be given a moment of flight and an opportunity
to warm herself in the golden rays of the sun, in order to throw off
the rigidity of the chrysalis. New life shone out in every part of her
young being. Everything she met with was good and beautiful. Her love
was manifested with virginal grace, and innocent in thought, she saw
nothing to cause her to put on false blushes. However, she was wont
to cover her face with her fan when they joked with her, but her eyes
would smile and a gentle tremor would pass over her whole being.

In front of Captain Basilio's house were some young men who saluted
our acquaintances and invited them into the house. The merry voice
of Sinang was heard, as she descended the stairs on a run and at once
put an end to all excuses.

"Come up a moment so that I can go out with you," said she. "It
bores me to be among so many strangers who talk about nothing but
fighting-cocks and playing cards."

They went upstairs. The house was full of people. Some advanced to
greet Ibarra, whose name was known to all. They contemplated with
ecstacy Maria Clara's beauty, and some of the matrons murmured as
they chewed their betel-nut: "She looks like the Virgin!"

After they had partaken of chocolate they resumed their walk. In the
corner of the plaza a beggar was singing the romance of the fishes,
to the accompaniment of a guitar. He was a common sight, a man
miserably dressed and wearing a wide-brimmed hat made out of palm
leaves. His clothing consisted of a frock coat covered with patches,
and a pair of wide trousers such as the Chinese wear, but torn in many
places. From beneath the brim of his hat two fiery orbs flashed out a
ray of light. He was tall and from his manner seemed to be young. He
put a basket down on the ground and, afterwards walking away from
it a little distance, he uttered strange, unintelligible sounds. He
remained standing, completely isolated, as if he and the people in the
street were trying to avoid each other. Women approached his basket,
and dropped into it fish, fruit and rice. When there was no one else
to approach the basket, other sadder but less mournful sounds could
be heard; perhaps he was thanking them. He picked up his basket and
walked away to do the same in another place.

Maria Clara felt that this was a pitiful case. Full of inter