Part 24 (2/2)
”Ah! and you forget the dead for a sick person? Do you think that because we are poor----”
Ibarra looked at him and cut off what he was saying.
”Don't try my patience!” said he, and went on his way. Lucas stood looking at him, with a smile on his face, full of hatred.
”You do not know that you are a grandson of the man who exposed my father to the sun!” he muttered between his teeth. ”You have the very same blood in your veins!”
And, changing his tone he added:
”But if you pay well, we are friends.”
CHAPTER XXIV
EPISODE IN ESPADAnA'S LIFE.
The festival was over. The citizens found, just as every year, that their treasury was poorer, that they had worked, perspired, and stayed up nights without enjoying themselves, without acquiring new friends, and in a word, had paid dearly for the noise and their headaches. But it did not matter. The next year they would do the same thing, and the same for the coming century, just as had always been the custom to the present time.
Enough sadness reigned in Captain Tiago's house. All the windows were closed; the people scarcely made a noise, and no one dared to speak except in the kitchen. Maria Clara, the soul of the house, lay sick in her bed.
”What do you think, Isabel? Shall I make a donation to the cross of Tunasan or to the cross of Matahong?” asked the solicitous father in a low voice. ”The cross of Tunasan grows, but that of Matahong sweats. Which do you think is the most miraculous?”
Isabel thought for a moment, moved her head and murmured: ”To grow--to grow is more miraculous than to sweat. We all sweat, but we do not all grow.”
”That is true, yes, Isabel, but bear in mind that for wood to sweat when it is made into the leg of a chair is no small miracle. Well, the best thing to do is to give alms to both crosses, so that neither will feel resentful, and Maria Clara will recover more quickly. Are the rooms in good order? You know that a new senor comes with the doctors, a relative of Father Damaso by marriage. It is necessary that nothing be lacking.”
The two cousins, Sinang and Victoria, were at the other end of the dining-room. They had come to keep company with the sick Maria. Andeng was helping them clean up a tea service in order to serve tea.
”Do you know Doctor Espadana?” asked Maria Clara's foster sister, directing her question to Victoria.
”No!” replied the latter. ”The only thing that I know about him is that he charges very dearly, according to Captain Tiago.”
”Then he ought to be very good,” said Andeng. ”The one who performed the operation on the stomach of Dona Marta charged a big price, but he was very wise.”
”You goose!” exclaimed Sinang. ”Not all who charge high prices are wise. Look at Doctor Guevara. He did not know how to aid a woman in childbirth, but after cutting off the child's head, he collected one hundred pesos from the widower. What he did know was how to charge.”
”What do you know about it?” her cousin asked, giving her a jab with her elbow.
”Why shouldn't I know about it? The husband, who is a wood-sawyer, after losing his wife, had to lose his house also, for the Alcalde was a friend of the doctor's and made him pay. Why shouldn't I know? My father loaned him money so that he could make a trip to Santa Cruz.”
A coach stopped before the house and cut off all the conversation.
Captain Tiago, followed by Aunt Isabel, ran downstairs to receive the new arrivals. They were the doctor, Don Tiburcio de Espadana, his wife, Doctora Dona Victorina de los Reyes de de Espadana; and a young Spaniard. The latter had a sympathetic face and a pleasing appearance.
The doctora wore a silk gown, embroidered with flowers, and on her hat, a large parrot half crushed among tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs of red and blue ribbons. The dust of the road had mingled with the rice powder on her cheeks, strongly accentuating her wrinkles. She was leaning on the arm of her lame husband.
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