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While the servants summoned by him fell upon their knees and prayed for the dead man, curious and bewildered as they gazed toward the bed, reciting requiem after requiem, Padre Florentino took from a cabinet the celebrated steel chest that contained Simoun's fabulous wealth.
"We don't buy jewels, because we don't need them," rejoined Isagani dryly, piqued in his provincial pride. A smile played over Simoun's pallid lips. "Don't be offended, young man," he replied.
After arranging his bazaar in such a way that he could close it quickly in case of need, he had a policeman accompany him for the short distance that separated his house from Simoun's.
"Yes," observed Sensia, crossing herself, "searching for the devil." Now many things were explained: Simoun's fabulous wealth and the peculiar smell in his house, the smell of sulphur. Binday, another of the daughters, a frank and lovely girl, remembered having seen blue flames in the jeweler's house one afternoon when she and her mother had gone there to buy jewels.
I've seen Padre Sibyla's pet!" "Yes?" ejaculated Isagani, rising. "It's no use now. When he saw me he disappeared." Approaching the window he looked toward the plaza, then made signs to his companions to come nearer. They saw a young man leave the door of the pansitería, gaze all about him, then with some unknown person enter a carriage that waited at the curb. It was Simoun's carriage.
Basilio realized that he had made a bad move, but he could not now retreat. "I've come to see my friend Makaraig," he replied calmly. The guards looked at each other. "Wait here," one of them said to him. "Wait till the corporal comes down." Basilio bit his lips and Simoun's words again recurred to him. Had they come to arrest Makaraig? was his thought, but he dared not give it utterance.
There were questionings whether the General had quarreled with the Countess, whether she spent her time in the halls of pleasure, whether His Excellency was greatly annoyed, whether there had been presents exchanged, whether the French consul , and so on and on. Many names were bandied about: Quiroga the Chinaman's, Simoun's, and even those of many actresses.
Sporting arms nearly all have a caliber of six millimeters, at least those now in the market. Authorize only the sale of those that haven't these six millimeters." All approved this idea of Simoun's, except the high official, who muttered into Padre Fernandez's ear that this was not dignified, nor was it the way to govern.
This last conjecture was the one that seemed to have the greatest appearance of probability, being further strengthened by the telegram received and Simoun's decided unwillingness from the start to be treated by the doctor from the capital. The jeweler submitted only to the ministrations of Don Tiburcio, and even to them with marked distrust.
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?"
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