Captain Tiago, all starched and ironed, presented himself.
“Don Santiago,” said His Excellency, in a cordial tone of voice, “a little while ago I was congratulating you on having a daughter like the Señorita de los Santos. Now I want to congratulate you on your future son-in-law. The most virtuous of daughters is certainly worthy of the best citizen of the Philippines. Is the date of the wedding known?”
“Señor!” stammered the Captain, wiping away the perspiration which was running down his face.
“O, come! I see that there is nothing definite. If you need godfathers, I will be one of them with the greatest pleasure. I would do it to take away the bad taste which so many of the weddings which I have attended here have left in my mouth,” he added, turning to the Alcalde.
“Yes, señor!” replied Captain Tiago, with a smile which inspired compassion.
Ibarra had gone in search of Maria Clara, almost on a run. He had so many things to tell her. He heard some gentle voices in one of the rooms and knocked at the door.
“Who knocks?” asked Maria Clara.
The voices were silenced and the door ... was not opened.
“It is I. May I come in?” asked the young man, his heart beating violently.
The silence was not broken. A few seconds afterward gentle steps approached the door and Sinang’s cheerful voice murmured through the key-hole: “Crisostomo, we are going to the theatre to-night. Write what you have to say to Maria Clara.”