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Updated: May 7, 2025
"Oh, it is not for my sake, it is not for me!" exclaimed Elias, not without some pride. "It is for your sake. I have nothing to fear from men." Ibarra's surprise increased. The tone in which the countryman was speaking was new to him and did not seem to be in accord either with his state or his fortune. "What do you mean?" asked Ibarra, interrogating the mysterious man with his look.
"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.
Ibarra's growing agitation caused her to suspend the reading, for he had grown pale and was pacing back and forth. "What's the matter? What is troubling you?" she asked him. "You have almost made me forget that I have my duties, that I must leave at once for the town. Tomorrow is the day for commemorating the dead."
It was proved that the papers found on the corpse were forged, since the handwriting was like that of Señor Ibarra's seven years ago, but not like his now, which leads to the belief that the model for them may have been that incriminating letter.
A light track indicated his passage through the water as he drew farther and farther away from Ibarra's banka, which floated about as if abandoned. Every time the swimmer lifted his head above the water to breathe, the guards in both boats shot at him. So the chase continued. Ibarra's little banka was now far away and the swimmer was approaching the shore, distant some thirty yards.
Ibarra was unable to repress a smile. "You smile," continued the schoolmaster, following Ibarra's example, "but I must confess that at the time I had very little desire to laugh. I was still standing I felt the blood rush to my head and lightning seemed to flash through my brain. The curate I saw far, far away.
But of the two strangers who had appeared, which was Ibarra, the living or the dead? This question, which he had often asked himself whenever Ibarra's death was mentioned, again came into his mind in the presence of the human enigma he now saw before him.
Terror and melancholy settled down upon Ibarra's heart as he listened to the voice from the window where he stood. He comprehended what that suffering soul was expressing in a song and yet feared to ask himself the cause of such sorrow. Gloomy and thoughtful, he turned to the Captain-General. "You will join me at the table," the latter said to him.
"That statement has proved of no account, since, according to the bandit himself, the conspirators never had communicated with the young man, but only with one, Lucas, who was Ibarra's enemy, as they have been able to prove, and who committed suicide, perhaps from remorse.
When all were kneeling and the priests had lowered their heads while the Incarnatus est was being sung, a man murmured in Ibarra's ear, "At the laying of the cornerstone, don't move away from the curate, don't go down into the trench, don't go near the stone your life depends upon it!" Ibarra turned to see Elias, who, as soon as he had said this, disappeared in the crowd. The Derrick
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