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Updated: May 23, 2025
He thought of Ben-Zayb as a source of information, but finding the writer armed to the teeth and using two loaded revolvers for paper-weights, took his leave in the shortest possible time, to shut himself up in his house and take to his bed under pretense of illness. At four in the afternoon the talk was no longer of simple pasquinades.
Padre Camorra, who had already forgotten about Paulita, saw what was meant and laughing his clownish laugh, asked in turn, "Whom does this other figure resemble, Ben-Zayb?" It was an old woman with one eye, with disheveled hair, seated on the ground like an Indian idol, ironing clothes.
Ben-Zayb responded with another pantomime, opening his eyes wide, arching his eyebrows and sucking in his breath eagerly as though nutritious air had just been discovered. "Sssh!" Todo se sabe Notwithstanding so many precautions, rumors reached the public, even though quite changed and mutilated.
That would save land, shorten communication, and prevent the formation of sandbars." The project left all his hearers astounded, accustomed as they were to palliative measures. "It's a Yankee plan!" observed Ben-Zayb, to ingratiate himself with Simoun, who had spent a long time in North America. All considered the plan wonderful and so indicated by the movements of their heads.
Ben-Zayb and Padre Camorra shook their fists in each other's faces, one talking of simpletons and the other of ink-slingers, Padre Sibyla kept harping on the Capitulum, and Padre Fernandez on the Summa of St. Thomas, until the curate of Los Baños entered to announce that breakfast was served. His Excellency arose and so ended the discussion.
No one dared to join in this diatribe. Don Custodio could discredit himself with his Excellency, if he wished, but neither Ben-Zayb, nor Padre Irene, nor Padre Salvi, nor the offended Padre Sibyla had any confidence in the discretion of the others. "The fact is that this man, being an American, thinks no doubt that we are dealing with the redskins. To talk of these matters on a steamer!
For the rest, Simoun remained unfathomable, since he had become very uncommunicative, showed himself seldom, and smiled mysteriously when the rumored fiesta was mentioned. "Come, Señor Sindbad," Ben-Zayb had once rallied him, "dazzle us with something Yankee! You owe something to this country." "Doubtless!" was Simoun's response, with a dry smile. "You'll throw the house wide open, eh?"
The Good Authority resulted from his friendship with Ben-Zayb, when the latter, in his two noisiest controversies, which he carried on for weeks and months in the columns of the newspapers about whether it was proper to wear a high hat, a derby, or a salakot, and whether the plural of carácter should be carácteres or caractéres, in order to strengthen his argument always came out with, "We have this on good authority," "We learn this from good authority," later letting it be known, for in Manila everything becomes known, that this Good Authority was no other than Don Custodio de Salazar y Sanchez de Monteredondo.
He had had to write at least seventeen articles and consult fifteen dictionaries, so with these salutary recollections, the wretched Ben-Zayb moved about with leaden hands, to say nothing of his feet, for that would be plagiarizing Padre Camorra, who had once intimated that the journalist wrote with them. "You see, Quico?" said Camaroncocido.
The Captain-General would leave disconsolate if he did not first enjoy his dithyrambs, and this Ben-Zayb, in his kindness of heart, could not allow. Hence he sacrificed the dinner and ball, nor did he sleep that night. Sonorous exclamations of horror, of indignation, to fancy that the world was smashing to pieces and the stars, the eternal stars, were clashing together!
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