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The porter stopped him and accosted him roughly, and finally, upon his insisting, threatened to call the police. Just then Simoun came down, slightly pale, and the porter turned from Basilio to salute the jeweler as though he had been a saint passing. Basilio realized from the expression of Simoun's face that he was leaving the fated house forever, that the lamp was lighted. Alea jacta est!
Ah, to suffer, to work, is the will of God! Convince them that their murder is their salvation, that their work is the prosperity of the home! To suffer, to work! What God is that?" "A very just God, Señor Simoun," replied the priest. "A God who chastises our lack of faith, our vices, the little esteem in which we hold dignity and the civic virtues.
Cabesang Tales and I will join one another in the city and take possession of it, while you in the suburbs will seize the bridges and throw up barricades, and then be ready to come to our aid to butcher not only those opposing the revolution but also every man who refuses to take up arms and join us." "All?" stammered Basilio in a choking voice. "All!" repeated Simoun in a sinister tone.
Without taking his eyes off the youth Simoun drew a revolver from his pocket and the click of a hammer being cocked was heard. "For whom do you take me?" he asked, retreating a few paces. "For a person who is sacred to me," replied Basilio with some emotion, for he thought his last moment had come.
I am starting the revolution, because only a revolution can open the doors of the nunneries." "Ay!" sighed Basilio, clasping his hands. "You've come late, too late!" "Why?" inquired Simoun with a frown. "Maria Clara is dead!" Simoun arose with a bound and stood over the youth. "She's dead?" he demanded in a terrible voice. "This afternoon, at six. By now she must be "
There wras a moment's silence, while Simoun stared at his mechanism and Basilio scarcely breathed. "So my assistance is not needed," observed the young man. "No, you have another mission to fulfill," replied Simoun thoughtfully. "At nine the mechanism will have exploded and the report will have been heard in the country round, in the mountains, in the caves.
In the afternoon Simoun had given orders to his servant that if there appeared a young man calling himself Basilio he should be admitted at once. Then he shut himself up in his room and seemed to become lost in deep thought. Since his illness the jeweler's countenance had become harder and gloomier, while the wrinkles between his eyebrows had deepened greatly.
Simoun stopped him with a gesture, and, as the dawn was coming, said to him: "Young man, I am not warning you to keep my secret, because I know that discretion is one of your good qualities, and even though you might wish to sell me, the jeweler Simoun, the friend of the authorities and of the religious corporations, will always be given more credit than the student Basilio, already suspected of filibusterism, and, being a native, so much the more marked and watched, and because in the profession you are entering upon you will encounter powerful rivals.
As a result of this, and as Simoun reported that the tulisanes were well provided with shotguns, rifles, and revolvers, and against such persons one man alone, no matter how well armed, could not defend himself, his Excellency, to prevent the tulisanes from getting weapons in the future, was about to dictate a new decree forbidding the introduction of sporting arms.
With affected simplicity and his most caressing smile, Quiroga had begged the lady to select the one she liked best, and the lady, more simple and caressing still, had declared that she liked all three, and had kept them. Simoun burst out into laughter. "Ah, sir, I'm lost, I'm ruined!" cried the Chinese, slapping himself lightly with his delicate hands; but the jeweler continued his laughter.
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