“Listen, Se?or, to my plan,” said Elias, as they directed the banca toward San Miguel. “I will for the present hide you in the house of my friend in Mandaluyong. I will bring you all your money, which I have saved and kept for you at the foot of the old balit? tree, in the mysterious tomb of your grandfather. You shall leave the country.”  
“To go to a strange land?” interrupted Ibarra.
 
“To live in peace the remaining days of your life. You have friends in Spain, you are rich, you can get yourself pardoned. By all means, a foreign land is better for you than your own country.”
 
Crisostomo did not reply. He meditated in silence.
 
Just then they reached the Pasig and the banca was headed up the stream. Over the Bridge of Spain a horse-man was galloping at high speed, and a prolonged, sharp whistle was heard.
 
“Elias,” replied Ibarra, “you owe your misfortunes to my family; you have saved my life twice; I owe you not only gratitude, but also restitution of your fortune. You advise me to go to a foreign land and live; then come with me and we will live like brothers. Here, you, too, are miserable.”
 
Elias sadly replied:
 
“Impossible! It is true that I can neither love nor be happy in my country; but I can suffer and die in it, and perhaps die for it; that would be something. Let my country’s misfortune be my own misfortune. Since no noble thought unites us, and since our hearts do not beat in harmony at the mention of a single word, at least, let a common misery unite me to my fellow countrymen; [260]at least, let me weep with them over our grief; let the same misery oppress all our hearts.”
 
“Then why do you advise me to leave?”
 
“Because in other lands you can be happy, and I cannot; because you are not made to suffer, and because you would hate your country, if some day you should see the cause of your misfortune: and to hate one’s own country is the greatest misery.”
 
“You are unjust to me,” exclaimed Ibarra, with bitter reproach. “You forget that I have scarcely arrived here, and that I have already sought its welfare.”
 
“Do not be offended, Se?or. I am not reproaching you. Would to God that all might imitate you. But I do not ask for the impossible and you should not be offended if I tell you that your heart deceives you. You love your country because your father has taught you to love it; you love it because you had in it your love, your fortune, your youth; because it smiled on you, and because it has not until now done you an injustice. You love your country as we all love that which makes us happy. But, on that day when you see yourself poor, ragged, hungry, persecuted, denounced and betrayed by your very countrymen, on that day you will curse yourself, your country and all.”
 
“Your words grieve me,” said Ibarra, resentfully.
 
Elias bowed his head, meditated and replied:
 
“I wish to set you right, Se?or, and to avoid a miserable future for you. You remember the time when I was talking to you in this same banca and under the light of the same moon. It was a month ago, a few days more or less. Then you were happy. The plea of the unfortunates did not reach you. You disdained their complaints because they were complaints from criminals. You gave ear to their enemies, and, in spite of my reasons and pleas, you put yourself on the side of their oppressors. On you depended at that time whether I should turn criminal or allow my life to be taken in fulfillment of my sacred pledge. God has not permitted it, because the old chief of the bandits has been killed. A month has passed and now you think differently.”
 
“You are right, Elias, but man is influenced by changes [261]in circumstances. Then I was blind, and obstinate. What did I know? Now misfortune has torn the veil from my eyes. The solitude and misery of my prison life have taught me; now I see the horrible cancer which is sapping the life of society, which hangs to its flesh and which requires violent extirpation. They have opened my eyes; they have made me see the ulcer; they force me to become a criminal. I will be a filibustero, but a true filibustero. I will call upon all the unfortunates, on all who have beating hearts within their breasts, on all who sent you to me.... No, no! I will not be criminal! It is never a crime to fight for one’s country! We for three centuries have given them our hand, we have asked them for their love, we have anxiously wished to call them our brothers. How have they replied? With insults and jests, denying us even the quality of being human beings. There is no God, there is no hope, there is no humanity. There is nothing but the right of force.”
 
Ibarra was excited. His whole body was trembling.
 
They passed by the Governor General’s palace, and believed they saw agitation and movement among the guards.
 
“Have they discovered our flight?” murmured Elias. “Lie down, Se?or, so that I can cover you up with the grass, for, when we cross over to the side of the river near the powder house, the sentry may be surprised at seeing two of us in this small banca.”
 
As Elias had foreseen, the sentry stopped him and asked him where he came from.
 
“From Manila, with grass for the magistrates and curates,” replied he, imitating the accent of one from Pandakan.
 
A sergeant came out and was informed what was going on.
 
“Sulung!” (Go on!) said he. “I warn you not to receive any one in your banca. A prisoner has just escaped. If you capture him and hand him over to me I will give you a good reward.”
 
“All right, Se?or. What is his description?”
 
“He wears a frock coat and speaks Spanish. With that much, be on the watch!” [262]
 
The banca went on. Elias turned his face and saw the shadow of the sentry, still standing on the bank of the river.
 
“We will lose several minutes,” said he, in a low voice. “We will have to go up the Beata river in order to carry out my pretense of being from Pe?a Francia.”
 
The town was sleeping in the light of the moon. Crisostomo arose to admire the sepulchral peace of Nature. The river was narrow and its banks formed a plain planted with rice.
 
Elias threw the load on the bank, picked up a piece of bamboo and drew out from under the grass in the banca some empty sacks. They went on rowing.
 
“You are master of your own will, Se?or, and of your own future,” said he to Crisostomo, who kept silent. “But if you will permit me to offer a suggestion, I say to you: Look well at what you are going to do. You are about to start a war, for you have money, talent, and you will quickly find aid, for, unfortunately, many are discontented. Furthermore, in this fight, which you are to begin, those who are going to suffer most are the defenseless, the innocent. The same sentiments which a month ago prompted me to come to you and ask for reforms, are those which now move me to ask you to reflect. The country, Se?or, is not thinking of separating itself from the mother country. It asks only a little liberty, a little justice, a little love. The discontented will assist you, the c............