The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER LIV 246
"I'll shoot all of them!"
"Listen! This afternoon a woman whose name I can't reveal (it's a secret of the confessional) came to me and
told everything. At eight o'clock they will seize the barracks by surprise, plunder the convento, capture the
police boat, and murder all of us Spaniards."
The alferez was stupefied.
"The woman did not tell me any more than this," added the curate.
"She didn't tell any more? Then I'll arrest her!"
"I can't consent to that. The bar of penitence is the throne of the God of mercies."
"There's neither God nor mercies that amount to anything! I'll arrest her!"
"You're losing your head! What you must do is to get yourself ready. Muster your soldiers quietly and put
them in ambush, send me four guards for the convento, and notify the men in charge of the boat."
"The boat isn't here. I'll ask for help from the other sections."
"No, for then the plotters would be warned and would not carry out their plans. What we must do is to catch
them alive and make them talk--I mean, you'll make them talk, since I, as a priest, must not meddle in such
matters. Listen, here's where you win crosses and stars. I ask only that you make due acknowledgment that it
was I who warned you."
"It'll be acknowledged, Padre, it'll be acknowledged--and perhaps you'll get a miter!" answered the glowing
alferez, glancing at the cuffs of his uniform.
"So, you send me four guards in plain clothes, eh? Be discreet, and tonight at eight o'clock it'll rain stars and
crosses."
While all this was taking place, a man ran along the road leading to Ibarra's house and rushed up the stairway.
"Is your master here?" the voice of Elias called to a servant.
"He's in his study at work."
Ibarra, to divert the impatience that he felt while waiting for the time when he could make his explanations to
Maria Clara, had set himself to work in his laboratory.
"Ah, that you, Elias?" he exclaimed. "I was thinking about you. Yesterday I forgot to ask you the name of that
Spaniard in whose house your grandfather lived."
"Let's not talk about me, sir--"
"Look," continued Ibarra, not noticing the youth's agitation, while he placed a piece of bamboo over a flame,
"I've made a great discovery. This bamboo is incombustible."
"It's not a question of bamboo now, sir, it's a question of your collecting your papers and fleeing at this very
moment."