The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER XLVIII 222
CHAPTER XLVIII
The Enigma
Volverán las oscuras golondrinas. [130]
BECQUER.
As Lucas had foretold, Ibarra arrived on the following day. His first visit was to the family of Capitan Tiago
for the purpose of seeing Maria Clara and informing her that his Grace had reconciled him with religion, and
that he brought to the curate a letter of recommendation in the handwriting of the Archbishop himself. Aunt
Isabel was not a little rejoiced at this, for she liked the young man and did not look favorably on the marriage
of her niece with Linares. Capitan Tiago was not at home.
"Come in," said the aunt in her broken Spanish. "Maria, Don Crisostomo is once more in the favor of God.
The Archbishop has discommunicated him."
But the youth was unable to advance, the smile froze on his lips, words failed him. Standing on the balcony at
the side of Maria Clara was Linares, arranging bouquets of flowers and leaves. Roses and sampaguitas were
scattered about on the floor. Reclining in a big chair, pale, with a sad and pensive air, Maria Clara toyed with
an ivory fan which was not whiter than her shapely fingers.
At the appearance of Ibarra, Linares turned pale and Maria Clara's cheeks flushed crimson. She tried to rise,
but strength failed her, so she dropped her eyes and let the fan fall. An embarrassed silence prevailed for a few
moments. Ibarra was then able to move forward and murmur tremblingly, "I've just got back and have come
immediately to see you. I find you better than I had thought I should."
The girl seemed to have been stricken dumb; she neither said anything nor raised her eyes.
Ibarra looked Linares over from head to foot with a stare which the bashful youth bore haughtily.
"Well, I see that my arrival was unexpected," said Ibarra slowly. "Maria, pardon me that I didn't have myself
announced. At some other time I'll be able to make explanations to you about my conduct. We'll still see one
another surely."
These last words were accompanied by a look at Linares. The girl raised toward him her lovely eyes, full of
purity and sadness. They were so beseeching and eloquent that Ibarra stopped in confusion.
"May I come tomorrow?"
"You know that for my part you are always welcome," she answered faintly.
Ibarra withdrew in apparent calm, but with a tempest in his head and ice in his heart. What he had just seen
and felt was incomprehensible to him: was it doubt, dislike, or faithlessness?
"Oh, only a woman after all!" he murmured.
Taking no note of where he was going, he reached the spot where the schoolhouse was under construction.
The work was well advanced, Ñor Juan with his mile and plumb-bob coming and going among the numerous
laborers. Upon catching sight of Ibarra he ran to meet him.