“Señor, a month ago we sat in this same boat, under the light of this same moon. You could not have said such a thing then.”
“No, Elias. Man seems to be an animal who varies with circumstances. I was blind then, unreasonable, I know not what. Now the bandage has been torn from my eyes; the wretchedness and solitude of my prison has taught me better. I see the cancer that is eating into our society; perhaps, after all, it must be torn out by violence.”
They came in sight of the governor-general’s palace, and thought they saw unusual movement among the guards.
“Your escape must have been discovered,” said Elias. “Lie down, señor, so I can cover you with the zacate, for the sentinel at the magazine may stop us.”
As Elias had anticipated, the sentinel challenged him, and asked him where he came from.
“From Manila, with zacate for the iodores and curates,” said he, imitating the accent of the people of Pandakan.
A sergeant came out.
“Sulung,” said he to Elias, “I warn you not to take any one into your boat. A prisoner has just escaped. If you capture him and bring him to me, I will give you a fine reward.”
“Good, señor; what is his description?”
“He wears a long coat, and speaks Spanish. Look out for him!”