Basilio did not remember whether he had said so or not, but to humor him replied, “Yes, man, but what’s happened?”
“It’s the truth, isn’t it? Look, you’re a witness: I’ve always been opposed—you’re a witness, don’t forget it!”
“Yes, man, but what’s going on?”
“Listen, you’re a witness! I’ve never had anything to do with the members of the association, except to give them [[258]]advice. You’re not going to deny it now. Be careful, won’t you?”
“No, no, I won’t deny it, but for goodness’ sake, what has happened?”
But Juanito was already far away. He had caught a glimpse of a guard approaching and feared arrest.
Basilio then went on toward the University to see if perhaps the secretary’s office might be open and if he could glean any further news. The office was closed, but there was an extraordinary commotion in the building. Hurrying up and down the stairways were friars, army officers, private persons, old lawyers and doctors, there doubtless to offer their services to the endangered cause.
At a distance he saw his friend Isagani, pale and agitated, but radiant with youthful ardor, haranguing some fellow students with his voice raised as though he cared little that he be heard by everybody.
“It seems preposterous, gentlemen, it seems unreal, that an incident so insignificant should scatter us and send us into flight like sparrows at whom a scarecrow has been shaken! But is this the first time that students have gone to prison for the sake of liberty? Where are those who have died, those who have been shot? Would you apostatize now?”
“But who can the fool be that wrote such pasquinades?” demanded an indignant listener.