“Uncle,” said Társilo, “how much will you give?” “I’ve told you already; if you will promise to find others to help surprise the quarters, I’ll give you thirty pesos each, and ten to each companion. If all goes well, they will each receive a hundred, and you double. Don Crisóstomo is rich!”
“Agreed!” cried Bruno; “give us the money!”
“I knew you were like your father! Come this way, so that those who killed him cannot hear us,” said José. And drawing them into a corner, he added as he counted out the money:
“Don Crisóstomo has come and brought the arms. To-morrow night at eight o’clock meet me in the cemetery. I will give you the final word. Go find your companions.” And he left them.
The brothers appeared to have exchanged rôles. Társilo now seemed undisturbed; Bruno was pale. They went back to the crowd, which was leaving the circle for the raised seats. Little by little the place became silent. Only the soltadores were left in the ring holding two cocks, with exaggerated care, looking out for wounds. The silence became solemn; the spectators became mere caricatures of men; the fight was about to begin.
XLV.
A Call.
Two days later Brother Salvi presented himself at the house of Captain Tiago. The Franciscan was more gaunt and pale than usual; but as he went up the steps a strange light shone in his eyes, and his lips parted in a strange smile. Captain Tiago kissed his hand, and took his hat and cane, smiling beatifically.
“I bring good news,” said the curate as he entered the drawing-room; “good news for everybody. I have letters from Manila confirming the one Señor Ibarra brought me, so that I believe, Don Santiago, the obstacle is quite removed.”