Among the men there was somewhat more animation. In one corner of the room were some cadets, who chatted with some show of interest, but in a low voice. From time to time they surveyed the crowd and indicated to each other different persons, meanwhile laughing more or less affectedly.

The only people who appeared to be really enjoying themselves were two friars, two citizens and an officer of the army who formed a group around a small table, on which were bottles of wine and English biscuits. The officer was old, tall and sunburnt, and looked as the Duke of Alva might have looked, had he been reduced to a command in the civil guard. He said little, but what he did say was short and to the point. One of the friars was a young Dominican, handsome and dressed with extreme nicety. He wore gold mounted spectacles and preserved the extreme gravity of youth. The other friar, however, who was a Franciscan, talked a great deal and gesticulated even more. Although his hair was getting gray, he seemed to be well preserved and in robust health. His splendid figure, keen glance, square jaw and herculean form gave him the appearance of a Roman patrician in disguise. He was gay and talked briskly, like one who is not afraid to speak out. Brusque though his words might be, his merry laugh removed any disagreeable impression.

As to the citizens, one of them was small in stature and wore a black beard, his most noticeable feature being his large nose—so large that you could scarcely believe that it was all his own. The other was a young blonde, apparently a recent arrival in the country. The latter was carrying on a lively discussion with the Franciscan.

“You will see,” said the friar, “when you have been in the country a few months, and will be convinced that what I say is right. It is one thing to govern in Madrid and another to rule in the Philippines.”

“But——”

“I, for example,” continued Father Dámaso, raising his voice to prevent the other from speaking, “I, who can point to my twenty-three years of existence on bananas and rice, can speak with some authority on this subject. Do not come to me with theories or arguments, for I know the native. Remember, that when I came to this country, I was sent to a parish, small and largely devoted to agriculture. I did not understand Tagalog very well, but I received the confessions of the women and we managed to understand each other. In fact, they came to think so much of me that three years afterward, when I was sent to another and larger town, where a vacancy had been created by the death of the native parish priest, all the women were in tears. They overwhelmed me with presents, they saw me off with bands of music——”

“But this only shows——”

“Wait, wait! Do not be in a hurry! My successor remained there a still shorter time, but when he left there were more people to see him off, more tears shed, and more music played, although he had treated the people worse than I, and had raised the parish dues to a sum almost double the amount I had exacted.”

“But allow me——”

“Furthermore, I was twenty years in the town of San Diego and it was only a few months ago—that—that I left. Twenty years! Surely any one will admit that twenty years is time enough to get acquainted with a town. There were six thousand people in San Diego, and I knew every one of them as if he were my own child. I knew even the private affairs of them all; I knew in what way this man was ‘crooked,’ where the shoe pinched that one, what slips every girl had made and with whom, and who was the true father of each child, for I received all of their confessions and they always confessed scrupulously. I can prove what I say by Santiago, our host, for he has considerable property in that town, and it was there that we became friends. Well, then! This will show you what sort of people the natives are: when I went away, only a few old women and some lay brothers saw me off. And that, after I had been there twenty years! Don’t you see that this proves beyond a doubt that all the reforms attempted by the Ministers of the Government in Madrid are perfectly absurd?”