The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER LXI 282
God has not permitted this because the old chief of the outlaws is dead. A month has hardly passed and you
think otherwise."
"You're right, Elias, but man is a creature of circumstances! Then I was blind, annoyed--what did I know?
Now misfortune has torn the bandage from my eyes; the solitude and misery of my prison have taught me;
now I see the horrible cancer which feeds upon this society, which clutches its flesh, and which demands a
violent rooting out. They have opened my eyes, they have made me see the sore, and they force me to be a
criminal! Since they wish it, I will be a filibuster, a real filibuster, I mean. I will call together all the
unfortunates, all who feel a heart beat in their breasts, all those who were sending you to me. No, I will not be
a criminal, never is he such who fights for his native land, but quite the reverse! We, during three centuries,
have extended them our hands, we have asked love of them, we have yearned to call them brothers, and how
do they answer us? With insults and jests, denying us even the chance character of human beings. There is no
God, there is no hope, there is no humanity; there is nothing but the right of might!" Ibarra was nervous, his
whole body trembled.
As they passed in front of the Captain-General's palace they thought that they could discern movement and
excitement among the guards.
"Can they have discovered your flight?" murmured Elias. "Lie down, sir, so that I can cover you with zacate.
Since we shall pass near the powder-magazine it may seem suspicious to the sentinel that there are two of us."
The banka was one of those small, narrow canoes that do not seem to float but rather to glide over the top of
the water. As Elias had foreseen, the sentinel stopped him and inquired whence he came.
"From Manila, to carry zacate to the judges and curates," he answered, imitating the accent of the people of
Pandakan.
A sergeant came out to learn what was happening. "Move on!" he said to Elias. "But I warn you not to take
anybody into your banka. A prisoner has just escaped. If you capture him and turn him over to me I'll give you
a good tip."
"All right, sir. What's his description?"
"He wears a sack coat and talks Spanish. So look out!" The banka moved away. Elias looked back and
watched the silhouette of the sentinel standing on the bank of the river.
"We'll lose a few minutes' time," he said in a low voice. "We must go into the Beata River to pretend that I'm
from Peñafrancia. You will see the river of which Francisco Baltazar sang."
The town slept in the moonlight, and Crisostomo rose up to admire the sepulchral peace of nature. The river
was narrow and the level land on either side covered with grass. Elias threw his cargo out on the bank and,
after removing a large piece of bamboo, took from under the grass some empty palm-leaf sacks. Then they
continued on their way.
"You are the master of your own will, sir, and of your future," he said to Crisostomo, who had remained
silent. "But if you will allow me an observation, I would say: think well what you are planning to do--you are
going to light the flames of war, since you have money and brains, and you will quickly find many to join
you, for unfortunately there are plenty of malcontents. But in this struggle which you are going to undertake,
those who will suffer most will be the defenseless and the innocent. The same sentiments that a month ago
impelled me to appeal to you asking for reforms are those that move me now to urge you to think well. The
country, sir, does not think of separating from the mother country; it only asks for a little freedom, justice, and
affection. You will be supported by the malcontents, the criminals, the desperate, but the people will hold