There they had to have chocolate, as Capitan Basilio had become a warm friend and defender of Ibarra since the day of the picnic. He had learned from the half of the telegram given to his daughter Sinang that Ibarra had known beforehand about the court's decision in the latter's favor, so, not wishing to be outdone in generosity, he had tried to set aside the decision of the chess-match. But when Ibarra would not consent to this, he had proposed that the money which would have been spent in court fees should be used to pay a teacher in the new school. In consequence, the orator employed all his eloquence to the end that other litigants should give up their extravagant claims, saying to them, "Believe me, in a lawsuit the winner is left without a camisa." But he had succeeded in convincing no one, even though he cited the Romans. After drinking the chocolate our young people had to listen to piano-playing by the town organist. "When I listen to him in the church," exclaimed Sinang, pointing to the organist, "I want to dance, and now that he's playing here I feel like praying, so I'm going out with you." "Don't you want to join us tonight?" whispered Capitan Basilio into Ibarra's ear as they were leaving. "Padre Damaso is going to set up a little bank." Ibarra smiled and answered with an equivocal shake of his head. "Who's that?" asked Maria Clara of Victoria, indicating with a rapid glance a youth who was following them. "He's--he's a cousin of mine," she answered with some agitation. "And the other?" "He's no cousin of mine," put in Sinang merrily. "He's my uncle's son." They passed in front of the parish rectory, which was not one of the least animated buildings. Sinang was unable to repress an exclamation of surprise on seeing the lamps burning, those lamps of antique pattern which Padre Salvi had never allowed to be lighted, in order not to waste kerosene. Loud talk and resounding bursts of laughter might be heard as the friars moved slowly about, nodding their heads in unison with the big cigars that adorned their lips. The laymen with them, who from their European garments appeared to be officials and employees of the province, were endeavoring to imitate whatever the good priests did. Maria Clara made out the rotund figure of Padre Damaso at the side of the trim silhouette of Padre Sibyla. Motionless in his place stood the silent and mysterious Fray Salvi. "He's sad," observed Sinang, "for he's thinking about how much so many visitors are going to cost. But you'll see how he'll not pay it himself, but the sacristans will. His visitors always eat at other places." "Sinang!" scolded Victoria. "I haven't been able to endure him since he tore up the _Wheel of Fortune_. I don't go to confession to him any more." Of all the houses one only was to be noticed without lights and with all the windows closed--that of the alferez. Maria Clara expressed surprise at this.