as Tarsilo, the
brother of Bruno. His torn clothing let his splendid muscles show. The
other prisoner brought out was weeping and lamenting.

"What is your name?" the alferez demanded of Tarsilo.

"Tarsilo Alasigan."

"What did Don Crisostomo promise you for attacking the convent?"

"I have never had any communication with Don Crisostomo."

"Don't attempt to deny it: what other reason had you for joining
the conspiracy?"

"You had killed our father, we wished to avenge him, nothing more. Go
find two of your guards. They're at the foot of the precipice, where
we threw them. You may kill me now, you will learn nothing more."

There was silence and general surprise.

"You will name your accomplices," cried the alferez, brandishing
his cane.

The accused man smiled disdainfully. The alferez talked apart with
the curate.

"Take him where the bodies are," he ordered.

In a corner of the patio, on an old cart, five bodies were heaped
under a piece of soiled matting.

"Do you know them?" asked the alferez, lifting the covering. Tarsilo
did not reply. He saw the body of Sisa's husband, and that of his
brother, pierced through with bayonet strokes. His face grew darker,
and a great sigh escaped him; but he was mute.

"Beat him till he confesses or dies!" cried the exasperated alferez.

They led him back where the other prisoner, with chattering teeth,
was invoking the saints.

"Do you know this man?" demanded Father Salvi.

"I never saw him before," replied Tarsilo, looking at the poor wretch
with faint compassion.

"Fasten him to the bench; gag him!" ordered the alferez, trembling
with rage. When this was done, a guard began his sad task.

Father Salvi, pale and haggard, rose trembling, and left the
tribunal. In the street he saw a girl, leaning against the wall,
rigid, motionless, her eyes far away. The sun shone full down on
her. She seemed not to breathe but to count, one after another,
the muffled blows inside. It was Tarsilo's sister.

The torture continued until the soldier, breathless, let his arm
fall, and the alferez ordered his victim released. But Tarsilo still
refused to speak. Then Dona Consolacion whispered in her husband's ear;
he nodded.

"To the well with him!" he said.

The Filipinos know what that means. In Tagalo it is called timbain. We
do not know who invented this judiciary process, but it must belong
to antiquity. Truth coming out of a well is perhaps a sarcastic
interpretatio