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Alferez Juan de Buitrago was beheaded; and the adelantado intended to have two others, friends of the master-of-camp, killed, but was restrained therefrom at our request. The cause of this was notorious, for these men tried to induce the adelantado to leave the land and abandon it.
The prisoner might indeed have suggested that she never heard of Acosta's wife, nor had the existence of such a wife been ripened even into a suspicion. But the bench were satisfied; chopping logic was of no use; and sentence was pronounced that on the eighth day from the day of arrest, the Alferez should be executed in the public square.
The alferez knew that his mate dressed ridiculously and had the appearance of what is known as a "querida of the soldiers," so he did not care to expose her to the gaze of strangers and persons from the capital. But she did not so understand it.
The alferez had increased his guards, who received the supplicants with the butts of their guns. The gobernadorcillo, a useless being, anyway, seemed more stupid and useless than ever. The sun was burning hot, but none of the unhappy women who were gathered in front of the cuartel thought of that.
The soldiers seize him and hustle him toward a lantern to examine him. It is Lucas, but the soldiers seem to be in doubt, questioning each other with their eyes. "The alferez didn't say that he had a scar," whispered the Visayan. "Where you going?" "To order a mass for tomorrow." "Haven't you seen Elias?" "I don't know him, sir," answered Lucas. "I didn't ask you if you know him, you fool!
"What family name?" The man looked at him frightened. "What's your name? What do you add to the name Andong?" "Ah, Señor! Those standing around could not resist a laugh. The alferez himself stopped short. "What is your business?" "Cocoanut tree pruner, Señor, and servant for my mother-in-law." "Who ordered you to attack the cuartel?" "Nobody, Señor." "What's that; nobody?
"But your presence honors him sufficiently," concluded the gallant Alcalde. Then turning to Father Salví: "Father Curate, I notice that you have been silent and pensive all day long." "It is my nature," muttered the Franciscan. "I would rather listen than talk." "Your Reverence seeks always to gain and never to lose," replied the alferez, in a joking manner.
"This is the one who defended himself most bravely, and who ordered his companions to flee," said the alferez to Father Salví. Behind came another miserable sight, a man crying and weeping like a child. He was limping and his pantaloons were stained with blood. "Mercy, señor, have mercy! I will not enter the cuartel yard again," he cried.
"Calm yourself!" "Then, why did you come in such a hurry?" The curate approached him and asked in a mysterious way: "Don't you know anything new?" The alferez shrugged his shoulders. "You confess that you know absolutely nothing?" "What! do you mean to tell me about Elias, whom your sacristan mayor hid last night?" he asked. "No, no!
They called him a grafter, a hypocrite, a Carlist, and a miser: he merely smiled and recited more prayers. The alferez had a little anecdote which he always related to the occasional Spaniards who visited him: "Are you going over to the convento to visit the sanctimonious rascal there, the little curate? Yes!
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