“I am in hard luck!” sighed Ibarra, thinking of Maria Clara. “What have you to say to me?”
Elias looked around him. They were far from the shore. The sun had already sunk below the horizon, and, as the twilight in these latitudes is very short, the darkness was falling over the earth, and the disk of the full moon was already shining.
“Señor,” replied Elias, in a grave voice, “I am the spokesman of many unfortunate people.”
“Unfortunate people. What do you mean?”
In a few words, Elias referred to the conversation which he had had with the chief of the tulisanes, but omitted saying anything about the doubts which the chief entertained, or the threats. Ibarra listened attentively, and, when Elias concluded his story, a long silence reigned. Ibarra was the first to break the spell.
“So that they desire——?”
“Radical reforms in the armed forces, in the religious matters, and in the administration of justice. That is to say, they ask for paternal care on the part of the Government.”
“Reforms? In what sense?”
“For example: more respect for human dignity; more security for the individual; less power in the hands of the forces already armed; fewer privileges for that body which easily abuses them.”
“Elias,” replied the young man, “I don’t know who you are, but I believe that you are not an ordinary man. You think and work differently from the others. You will understand me if I say to you that, even if it is true that the present state of affairs is defective, there will be a worse state if there is a change. I could arrange to get the assistance of my friends in Madrid, by paying them. I could speak to the Governor General, but all of that would accomplish nothing. He has not enough power to introduce reforms, nor would I ever take a step in that direction, for I know very well that, if it is true that these religious corporations have their defects, they are now necessities. They are what you might call a necessary evil.”