The Social Cancer, by José Rizal - Home

CHAPTER III 35
But all the seats were occupied; Lucullus was not to sup in the house of Lucullus.
"Sit still, don't get up!" said Capitan Tiago, placing his hand on the young man's shoulder. "This fiesta is for
the special purpose of giving thanks to the Virgin for your safe arrival. Oy! Bring on the tinola! I ordered
tinola as you doubtless have not tasted any for so long a time."
A large steaming tureen was brought in. The Dominican, after muttering the benedicite, to which scarcely any
one knew how to respond, began to serve the contents. But whether from carelessness or other cause, Padre
Damaso received a plate in which a bare neck and a tough wing of chicken floated about in a large quantity of
soup amid lumps of squash, while the others were eating legs and breasts, especially Ibarra, to whose lot fell
the second joints. Observing all this, the Franciscan mashed up some pieces of squash, barely tasted the soup,
dropped his spoon noisily, and roughly pushed his plate away. The Dominican was very busy talking to the
rubicund youth.
"How long have you been away from the country?" Laruja asked Ibarra.
"Almost seven years."
"Then you have probably forgotten all about it."
"Quite the contrary. Even if my country does seem to have forgotten me, I have always thought about it."
"How do you mean that it has forgotten you?" inquired the rubicund youth.
"I mean that it has been a year since I have received any news from here, so that I find myself a stranger who
does not yet know how and when his father died."
This statement drew a sudden exclamation from the lieutenant.
"And where were you that you didn't telegraph?" asked Doña Victorina. "When we were married we
telegraphed to the Peñinsula." [29]
"Señora, for the past two years I have been in the northern part of Europe, in Germany and Russian Poland."
Doctor De Espadaña, who until now had not ventured upon any conversation, thought this a good opportunity
to say something. "I--I knew in S-spain a P-pole from W-warsaw, c-called S-stadtnitzki, if I r-remember
c-correctly. P-perhaps you s-saw him?" he asked timidly and almost blushingly.
"It's very likely," answered Ibarra in a friendly manner, "but just at this moment I don't recall him."
"B-but you c-couldn't have c-confused him with any one else," went on the Doctor, taking courage. "He was
r-ruddy as gold and t-talked Spanish very b-badly."
"Those are good clues, but unfortunately while there I talked Spanish only in a few consulates."
"How then did you get along?" asked the wondering Doña Victorina.
"The language of the country served my needs, madam."
"Do you also speak English?" inquired the Dominican, who had been in Hongkong, and who was a master of
pidgin-English, that adulteration of Shakespeare's tongue used by the sons of the Celestial Empire.