Part 17 (1/2)

THE MEETING AT THE TOWN HALL.

It was a room of twelve or fifteen by eight or ten yards. The whitewashed walls were covered with charcoal drawings, more or less ugly, more or less decent. In the corner were a dozen old shot-guns and some rusty swords, the arms of the cuadrilleros.

At one end, draped with soiled red curtains, was a portrait of His Majesty the King, and on the platform underneath an old fauteuil opened its worn arms; before this was a great table, daubed with ink, carved and cut with inscriptions and monograms, like the tables of a German students' inn. Lame chairs and tottering benches completed the furniture.

In this hall meetings were held, courts sat, tortures were inflicted. At the moment the authorities of the pueblo and its vicinity were met there. The party of the old did not mingle with the party of the young; the two represented the Conservatives and Liberals.

”My friends,” Don Filipo, the chief of the Liberals, was saying to a little group, ”we shall vanquish the old men this time; I'm going to present their plan myself, with exaggerations, you may imagine.”

”What are you saying?” demanded his surprised auditors.

”Listen,” said Don Filipo. ”This morning I ran across old Tasio. He said to me: 'Your enemies are more opposed to your person than to your ideas. Is there something you don't want to have go through? Propose it yourself. If it's as desirable as a mitre, they will reject it. Then let the most modest young fellow among you present what you really want. To humiliate you, your enemies will help to carry it.' Hus.h.!.+ Keep the secret.”

The gobernadorcillo had come in. Conversation ceased, all took places, and silence reigned.

The captain, as the gobernadorcillo is called, sat down in the chair under the king's portrait. His look was harried. He coughed, pa.s.sed his hand over his cranium, coughed again, and at length began in a failing voice:

”Senores, I've taken the risk of convening you all--hem, hem!--because we are to celebrate, the twelfth of this month, the feast of our patron, San Diego--hem, hem!”

At this point of his discourse a cough, dry and regular, reduced him to silence.

Then from among the elders arose Captain Basilio:

”Will your honors permit me,” said he, ”to speak a word under these interesting circ.u.mstances? I speak first, though many of those present have more right than I, but the things I have to say are of such importance that they should neither be left aside nor said last, and for that reason I wish to speak first, to give them the place they merit. Your honors will, then, permit me to speak first in this a.s.sembly, where I see very distinguished people, like the senor, the present gobernadorcillo; his predecessor, my distinguished friend, Don Valentine; his other predecessor, Don Julio; our renowned captain of the cuadrilleros, Don Melchior, and so many others, whom, for brevity, I will not mention, and whom you see here present. I entreat your honors to give me the floor before any one else speaks. Am I happy enough to have the a.s.sembly accede to my humble request?” And the speaker bowed respectfully, half smiling.

”You may speak, we shall hear you with pleasure!” cried his flattering friends, who held him a great orator. The old men hemmed with satisfaction and rubbed their hands.

Captain Basilio wiped the sweat from his brow and continued:

”Since your honors have been so kind and complaisant toward my humble self as to grant me the right of speech before all others here present, I shall profit by this permission, so generously accorded, and I shall speak. I imagine in my imagination that I find myself in the midst of the very venerable Roman senate--senatus populusque Roma.n.u.s, as we said in those good old times which, unhappily for humanity, will never come back,--and I will ask the patres conscripti--as the sage Cicero would say if he were in my place--I would ask them, since time presses, and time is golden as Solomon says, that in this important matter each one give his opinion clearly, briefly, and simply. I have done.”

And satisfied with himself and with the attention of the house the orator sat down, not without directing toward his friends a look which plainly said: ”Ha! Did I speak well? Ha!”

”Now the floor belongs to any one who--hem!” said the gobernadorcillo, without being able to finish his sentence.

To judge by the general silence, no one wished to be one of the patres conscripti. Don Filipo profited thereby and rose.

The Conservatives looked at one another with significant nods and gestures.

”Senores, I will present my project for the fete,” he began.

”We cannot accept it!” said an uncompromising Conservative.

”We vote against it!” cried another adversary.

Don Filipo could not repress a smile.

”We have a budget of 3,500 pesos. With this sum we can a.s.sure a fete that will surpa.s.s any we have yet seen in our own province or in others.”

There were cries of ”Impossible!” Such a pueblo spent 4,000 pesos; another, 5,000!