Stones rained on the group of cuadrilleros leading off the guards, and the cry to fire the barracks was repeated. Chananay in her costume of Leonora in "Il Trovatore" was talking with Ratia, in schoolmaster's dress; Yeyeng, wrapped in a shawl, was attended by Prince Villardo, while the Moors tried to console the mortified musicians; but already the crowd had determined upon action, and Don Filipo was doing his best to hold them in check. "Do nothing rash!" he cried. "To-morrow we will demand satisfaction; we shall have justice; I promise you justice!" "No," replied some; "that's what they did at Calamba: they promised justice, and the alcalde didn't do a thing! We will take justice for ourselves! To the barracks!" Don Filipo, looking about for some one to aid him, saw Ibarra. "For heaven's sake, Senor Ibarra, keep the people here while I go for the cuadrilleros!" "What can I do?" demanded the perplexed young fellow; but Don Filipo was already in the distance. Ibarra, in his turn, looked about for aid, and saw Elias. He ran to him, took him by the arm, and, speaking in Spanish, begged him to do what he could for order. The helmsman disappeared in the crowd. Animated discussions were heard, and rapid questions; then, little by little, the mass began to dissolve and to wear a less hostile attitude. It was time; the soldiers arrived with bayonets fixed. As Ibarra was about to enter his house that night a little man in mourning, having a great scar on his left cheek, placed himself in front of him and bowed humbly. "What can I do for you?" asked Crisostomo. "Senor, my name is Jose; I am the brother of the man killed this morning." "Ah," said Ibarra, "I assure you I am not insensible to your loss. What do you wish of me?" "Senor, I wish to know how much you are going to pay my brother's family." "Pay!" repeated Crisostomo, not without annoyance. "We will talk of this again; come to me to-morrow." "But tell me simply what you will give," insisted Jose. "I tell you we will talk of it another day, not now," said Ibarra, more impatiently. "Ah! You think because we are poor----" Ibarra interrupted him. "Don't try my patience too far," he said, moving on. Jose looked after him with a smile full of hatred. "It is easy to see he is a grandson of the man who exposed my father to the sun," he murmured between his teeth. "The same blood!" Then in a changed tone he added: "But if you pay well--friends!" XXXV. HUSBAND AND WIFE. The fete was over, and the inhabitants of the pueblo now perceived, as they did every year, that their purses were empty, that in the sweat of their faces they had earned scant pleasure, and paid dear for noise and headaches. But what of that? The next year they would begin again; the next century it would still be the same, for it had been so up to this time, and there is nothing which can make people renounce a custom.