The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER XXIV 118
They showed the cayman to the curate, but he seemed inattentive until they told him that the gaping wound
had been inflicted by Ibarra. The celebrated and unknown pilot was no longer to be seen, as he had
disappeared before the arrival of the alferez.
At length Maria Clara came from the bath with her companions, looking fresh as a rose on its first morning
when the dew sparkling on its fair petals glistens like diamonds. Her first smile was for Crisostomo and the
first cloud on her brow for Padre Salvi, who noted it and sighed.
The lunch hour was now come, and the curate, the coadjutor, the gobernadorcillo, the teniente-mayor, and the
other dignitaries took their seats at the table over which Ibarra presided. The mothers would not permit any of
the men to eat at the table where the young women sat.
"This time, Albino, you can't invent holes as in the bankas," said Leon to the quondam student of theology.
"What! What's that?" asked the old women.
"The bankas, ladies, were as whole as this plate is," explained Leon.
"Jesús! The rascal!" exclaimed the smiling Aunt Isabel.
"Have you yet learned anything of the criminal who assaulted Padre Damaso?" inquired Fray Salvi of the
alferez.
"Of what criminal, Padre?" asked the military man, staring at the friar over the glass of wine that he was
emptying,
"What criminal! Why, the one who struck Padre Damaso in the road yesterday afternoon!"
"Struck Padre Damaso?" asked several voices.
The coadjutor seemed to smile, while Padre Salvi went on: "Yes, and Padre Damaso is now confined to his
bed. It's thought that he may be the very same Elias who threw you into the mudhole, señor alferez."
Either from shame or wine the alferez's face became very red.
"Of course, I thought," continued Padre Salvi in a joking manner, "that you, the alferez of the Civil Guard,
would be informed about the affair."
The soldier bit his lip and was murmuring some foolish excuse, when the meal was suddenly interrupted by
the appearance of a pale, thin, poorly-clad woman. No one had noticed her approach, for she had come so
noiselessly that at night she might have been taken for a ghost.
"Give this poor woman something to eat," cried the old women. "Oy, come here!"
Still the strange woman kept on her way to the table where the curate was seated. As he turned his face and
recognized her, his knife dropped from his hand.
"Give this woman something to eat," ordered Ibarra.
"The night is dark and the boys disappear," murmured the wandering woman, but at sight of the alferez, who
spoke to her, she became frightened and ran away among the trees.
"Who is she?" he asked.