"The young man fled like one that is accursed," continued Elias. "He fled from town to town, through mountains and valleys, and when at last he thought he was not recognized by any one, he began to work in the store of a rich man in the province of Tayabas. His activity, his agreeable disposition, won for him the esteem of those who did not know his past life. By working and saving he managed to make a little capital, and, as the misery had passed away, and, as he was young, he thought that he would be happy. His good appearance, his youth, and his quite unencumbered position won for him the love of a girl in the town, but he did not dare to ask for her hand, for fear that she might learn of his past. But love became too strong and both erred. The man, in order to save the honor of the woman, risked all; he asked her to marry him, the papers were looked up and all was disclosed. The girl's father was rich and began to prosecute the man. The latter, however, did not try to defend himself, admitted it all and was sent to jail. The young woman gave birth to a boy and a girl. They were brought up in seclusion and made to believe that their father was dead. This was not difficult, for while the children were still young they saw their mother die, and they thought little about investigating their genealogy. As our grandfather was very rich, our youth was happy. My sister and I were educated together, we loved each other as only twins can when they know no other love. While very young, I went to study in the Jesuit College, and my sister, in order that we might not be entirely separated, went to the Concordia boarding school. Our short education having been ended, for we only wished to be farmers, we returned to the town to take possession of the inheritance which was left us by our grandfather. We lived happily for some time; the future smiled on us; we had many servants; our fields bore good crops; and my sister was on the eve of being married to a young man who loved her and to whom she was well suited. On account of some pecuniary questions, and, because my character was then haughty, I lost the good will of a distant relative, and he threw in my face one day my dark birth and my infamous ancestry. I thought it a calumny and demanded satisfaction. The tomb in which so much grief was sleeping was opened again and the truth came out. I was confounded. To make the misfortune greater, we had had for some years an old servant who had always suffered all my caprices without ever leaving us. He contented himself by weeping and crying while the other servants jested with him. I do not know how my relative found it out; the fact is that he summoned this old man before the court and made him tell the truth. The old servant was my father, who had stuck fast to his dear children and whom I had maltreated many times. Our happiness disappeared: I renounced our fortune; my sister lost her lover; and with our father we abandoned the town to go to