Simoun raised his head. Although his looks could not be read through the blue goggles, on the rest of his face surprise might be seen. “Rather a good answer,” he said. “But I fear that he might get facetious and ask me when the water will be converted into steam and when into an ocean. Padre Camorra is rather incredulous and is a great wag.” “When the fire heats it, when the rivulets that are now scattered through the steep valleys, forced by fatality, rush together in the abyss that men are digging,” replied Isagani. “No, Señor Simoun,” interposed Basilio, changing to a jesting tone, “rather keep in mind the verses of my friend Isagani himself: ‘Fire you, you say, and water we, Then as you wish, so let it be; But let us live in peace and right, Nor shall the fire e’er see us fight; So joined by wisdom’s glowing flame, That without anger, hate, or blame, We form the steam, the fifth element, Progress and light, life and movement.’” “Utopia, Utopia!” responded Simoun dryly. “The engine is about to meet—in the meantime, I’ll drink my beer.” So, without any word of excuse, he left the two friends. “But what’s the matter with you today that you’re so quarrelsome?” asked Basilio. “Nothing. I don’t know why, but that man fills me with horror, fear almost.” “I was nudging you with my elbow. Don’t you know that he’s called the Brown Cardinal?” “The Brown Cardinal?” “Or Black Eminence, as you wish.” “I don’t understand.” “Richelieu had a Capuchin adviser who was called the Gray Eminence; well, that’s what this man is to the General.” “Really?” “That’s what I’ve heard from a certain person,—who always speaks ill of him behind his back and flatters him to his face.” “Does he also visit Capitan Tiago?” “From the first day after his arrival, and I’m sure that a certain person looks upon him as a rival—in the inheritance. I believe that he’s going to see the General about the question of instruction in Castilian.” At that moment Isagani was called away by a servant to his uncle.