We uster watch the steamers and the hathis pilin’ teak.
Vino, that decoction from the cocoanut which in time crazes the drinker and makes him run amuck, had been getting in its work on the Americans, and they were more or less beside themselves even now. Besides, insidious fever, the mali-mali, which weakens the will, leaving the victim chiflado, ready to imitate the movements of any who pass; the almost constant vibration of the soil that tells so on American nerves; the absence from home and accountability to civilized restraints; the enervating tropics that seemed to tingle in their veins and vanish, make them devilish; and the daily sight of half-naked women, whose ideals of morality were tropical rather than American, were telling on the habits of many a homesick mother’s boy. The Philippines became a hot-bed in which erotic passions developed into national scandals. The nuncio himself, with grim desire to strike at the Americans when it profited his cause to do so, had procured the licensing and inspection of bawds, under sanction of the American governor, the fees for inspection going to church charities. So the sights of drunken American soldiers did not even interest him.
But there was something about the prisoner that was striking. His very bearing, his mannerism, his cut of tie and clothing proclaimed him to be a priest. If he was a Roman priest, the nuncio felt he must rescue him; if he was an Aglipayan priest, then he might gratify on him the cruel desire to torment which is born in some and which he had fostered by feeding. He determined to put the matter to an instant test by a bold stroke. So he approached the prisoner, crossing himself and saying:
“As I live, if this is not Dr. Maximo Voliva, born Aglipay.”
It was a venture, but it struck home.
“And you are that devil, Violeta, who has robbed us already of our churches. I am not pleased to form your acquaintance.”
“Still reprobate and unregenerate, I see,” returned the Jesuit. “At one time we might have made terms with you, but that day is past. We have the whip hand now and you are in our power. Man (speaking to a soldier), run to the nearest house and borrow a couple of spades or shovels, and be quick about it. Follow us down the beach.”
The three men walked down the coast to a more secluded spot.
“What do you plan to do to me?” asked the erstwhile Maximo.