XVIII. THE FIRST CLOUD.

25 1 0
                                    


CHAPTER XVIII

THE FIRST CLOUD.

The house of Captain Tiago was no less disturbed than the imagination

of the people. Maria Clara, refusing to listen to the consolation

of her aunt and foster sister, did nothing but weep. Her father had

forbidden her to speak to Ibarra until the priests should absolve

him from the excommunication which they had pronounced upon him.

Captain Tiago, though very busy preparing his house for the reception

of the Governor General, had been summoned to the convent.

"Don't cry, my girl," said Aunt Isabel as she dusted off the

mirrors. "They will certainly annul the excommunication; they will

write the Pope.... We will make a large donation.... Father Dámaso

had nothing more than a fainting spell.... He is not dead."

"Don't cry," said Andeng to her, in a low voice. "I will certainly

arrange it so that you can speak to him. What are the confessionals

made for, if we are not expected to sin? Everything is pardoned when

one has told it to the curate."

Finally, Captain Tiago arrived. They scanned his face for an answer

to their many questions, but his expression announced too plainly

his dismay. The poor man was sweating, and passing his hand over his

forehead. He seemed unable to utter a word.

"How is it, Santiago?" asked Aunt Isabel, anxiously.

He answered her with a sigh and dried away a tear.

"For God's sake, speak! What has happened?"

"What I had already feared!" he broke out finally half crying. "All is

lost! Father Dámaso orders that the engagement be broken. If it is not

broken off, I am condemned in this life and in the next. They all tell

me the same thing, even Father Sibyla! I ought to shut the doors of

my house and ... I owe him more than fifty thousand pesos. I told the

Fathers so, but they would take no notice of it. 'Which do you prefer

to lose,' they said to me, 'fifty thousand pesos, or your life and your

soul?' Alas! Ay! San Antonio! If I had known it, if I had known it!"

Maria Clara was sobbing.

"Do not cry, my daughter," he added, turning to her. "You are not

like your mother. She never cried ... she never cried except when she

was whimsical just before your birth.... Father Dámaso tells me that

a relative of his has just arrived from Spain ... and that he wants

him to be your fiancé."...

Maria Clara stopped up her ears.

"But, Santiago, are you out of your head?" cried Aunt Isabel. "Speak

to her now of another fiancé! Do you think that your daughter can

NOLI MI TANGEREWhere stories live. Discover now