They went upstairs. The house was full of people. Some advanced to greet Ibarra, whose name was known to all. They contemplated with ecstacy Maria Clara’s beauty, and some of the matrons murmured as they chewed their betel-nut: “She looks like the Virgin!”
After they had partaken of chocolate they resumed their walk. In the corner of the plaza a beggar was singing the romance of the fishes, to the accompaniment of a guitar. He was a common sight, a man miserably dressed and wearing a wide-brimmed hat made out of palm leaves. His clothing consisted of a frock coat covered with patches, and a pair of wide trousers such as the Chinese wear, but torn in many places. From beneath the brim of his hat two fiery orbs flashed out a ray of light. He was tall and from his manner seemed to be young. He put a basket down on the ground and, afterwards walking away from it a little distance, he uttered strange, unintelligible sounds. He remained standing, completely isolated, as if he and the people in the street were trying to avoid each other. Women approached his basket, and dropped into it fish, fruit and rice. When there was no one else to approach the basket, other sadder but less mournful sounds could be heard; perhaps he was thanking them. He picked up his basket and walked away to do the same in another place.
Maria Clara felt that this was a pitiful case. Full of interest, she asked about the strange being.
“It is a leper,” replied Iday. “He contracted the disease some four years ago; some say by taking care of his mother, others by having been confined in a damp prison. He lives there in the field near the Chinese cemetery. He does not communicate with any one: everybody flees from him on account of the fear of contagion. You should see his fantastic little house! The wind, the rain and the sunshine go in and out of it as a needle goes through cloth. They have prohibited him from touching anything belonging to anybody. One day a little child fell into the canal. The canal was deep, but this man happened to be passing near and helped to get the little child out. The child’s father learned of it, made a complaint to the gobernadorcillo and the latter ordered that he be given six stripes in the middle of the street, the whip to be afterwards burned. That was atrocious! The leper ran away howling; they pursued him and the gobernadorcillo cried out: ‘Catch him! One might better be drowned than have that disease!’”
“That is true,” murmured Maria Clara. And then, without noticing what she was doing, she went up to the basket of the unfortunate wretch and dropped into it the relic which her father had just presented to her.
“What have you done?” her friends asked her.
“I have nothing else to give him,” she replied, concealing the tears in her eyes by a smile.
“And what is he going to do with the relic?” said Victoria to her. “One day they gave him money but he pushed it away from him with his cane. Why would he care for it, if no one would accept anything coming from him? If he could only eat the relic!”
Maria Clara looked longingly at the women who were selling provisions and shrugged her shoulders.
But the leper approached the basket, picked up the piece of jewelry which shone in his hands, knelt down, kissed it, and, after taking off his hat, buried his face in the dust on which the young girl had walked.