because she was awaiting the arrival of a certain
person and had taken advantage of the moment in which her Argus could
not be present, the hour when Linares ate.

"You will see how that ghost will stay till eight o'clock," murmured
Sinang, pointing to the curate. "At eight o'clock he ought to
come. This priest is as much in love as Linares."

Maria Clara looked at her friend, frightened. The latter, without
noticing her expression, continued her terrible gossip:

"Ah! Now I know why he doesn't go, in spite of all my hints. He
doesn't want to burn the lamps in the convent. Don't you see? Ever
since you fell ill, he has had the two lights which he used to burn,
put out. But look at his eyes and his face!"

Just at that moment the clock in the house struck eight. The curate
trembled and went and sat down in a corner of the room.

"He is coming," said Sinang, pinching Maria Clara. "Do you hear?"

The bell in the church tolled eight and all arose to pray. Father
Salvi, with a weak and trembling voice, led, but, as each one had
his own thoughts, nobody paid any attention to him.

The prayer had scarcely ended, when Ibarra presented himself. The young
man was wearing mourning, not only in his dress, but in his face. In
fact, it was so evident that Maria Clara, on seeing him, arose and
took a step toward him as if to ask what ailed him, but at the same
instant a discharge of musketry was heard. Ibarra stopped, his eyes
rolled and he was unable to speak. The curate hid himself behind a
pillar. More shooting and more noise was heard in the direction of the
convent, followed by cries and the sound of people running. Captain
Tiago, Aunt Isabel and Linares entered the room, hurriedly crying
"tulisan! tulisan!" Andeng followed them, brandishing a spit and ran
toward her foster sister.

Aunt Isabel fell on her knees and prayed the Kyrie eleison. Captain
Tiago, pale and trembling, carried a chicken's liver on his fork, and,
in tears, offered it to the Virgin of Antipolo. Linares had his mouth
full and was armed with a spoon. Sinang and Maria Clara embraced each
other. The only person who did not move was Ibarra. He stood as if
petrified, his face indescribably pale.

The cries and blows continued, the windows were shut with a bang,
a whistle was heard, and occasionally a shot.

"Christe eleison! Santiago, fasten the windows," groaned Aunt Isabel.

"Fifty great bombs and a thanksgiving mass," replied Captain
Tiago. "Ora p