CHAPTER VII
HOW THEY REBUILT THE GALLOWS AT CALOCAN
During the two months following Mr Gobbitt’s adventure, things were very quiet in the neighbourhood of Felizardo’s mountains. The old outlaw kept to his policy of trying to avoid trouble by acting strictly on the defensive; and, as neither Captain Bush nor Captain Hayle received orders to make an attack, during the whole of that time not a shot was fired in anger, and Captain Bush’s Scouts grew so fat and soft, and got so completely out of hand, that they were hardly fit to do even one day’s work in the field—unlike Hayle’s Constabulary at Silang, who had much less to eat and were given much more to do, which was good, both for them and for the service.
In Manila, however, neither Commissioner Furber nor the late members of the Provisional Government had forgotten Felizardo. The Commissioner was smarting over the failure of his plans. The ex-insurrecto generals and colonels had not forgiven the old chief, who, besides refusing help at a critical juncture, had also hanged ignominiously an envoy of the Sovereign People. Consequently, having the ear of the Commissioner, they lost no opportunity of relating the evil deeds of Felizardo; and when their imaginations failed them, they ascribed to him some of their own abominable doings during the rebellion. Mr Furber believed it all—were they not his Little Brown Brothers?—and he found an ally in Commissioner Gumpertz, who also had reason for feeling sore against Felizardo; but one or two of the other Commissioners shook their heads. “What harm does the old man do?” they asked. “As it is, we have to waste enough money on active ladrones, and a small war of this kind would not leave much balance”—which, being interpreted, meant “much to be divided amongst the faithful supporters of the Party.”
So Commissioner Furber had to give way, for a time at least; and the ex-generals and colonels gnashed their teeth with rage, for, in addition to the old scores, they had one or two new plans, the preliminaries to a fresh insurrection, which might be nipped in the bud if Felizardo came to hear of them, as he probably would do. So they put their heads together, smoking many cigarettes and drinking much spirit during secret conclaves in closely-shuttered old houses in the Walled City—which is the name for Old Manila—and at last they evolved a scheme which seemed to them excellent.
“It will set the Americanos against Felizardo,” they said. “Nothing enrages them so much as to have their women carried off. Then there will be a long and expensive war in the mountains, with the loss of many men; and our doings will not be noticed—until we are ready.”
So they appointed a committee, including, amongst others, Senor Guiterrez, Mr Furber’s secretary, and Senor Vagas, an assistant collector of Customs, brother-in-law to Chief Collector Sharler, and Senor Talibat, the judge; and, after that, they dispersed, in great good-humour, feeling sure that, before many months had passed, they would once more be wearing large red epaulettes and large red sashes, and trailing huge cavalry sabres behind them.
However, you cannot arrange matters of such grave national importance in a few days; consequently, weeks went by before anything could be attempted in the Islands themselves. There were funds to be collected and sent to other Brown Brothers in Hong Kong, who, after taking as much as they thought would not be noticed—patriots are never greedy—handed the balance to certain discreet Chinamen, wherewith to purchase certain articles, which, packed in small and convenient cases and crates, were presently put on board the German steamer Bertha Helwig and dispatched to Manila.
Chief Collector Sharler was a young man with a clean-shaven face, gold-rimmed spectacles, and ideas. It is the latter only which are really important so far as this story is concerned. His appearance certainly suited his theories; but had he been gross and sensual-looking like Mr Gumpertz, or lean and wolfish like Mr Furber, and still held those same theories, the result would have been the same.