Read Ebook: The Reign of Greed by Rizal Jos Derbyshire Charles E Translator

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Ebook has 1916 lines and 115209 words, and 39 pages

"Now look here, before the port works I presented a project, original, simple, useful, economical, and practicable, for clearing away the bar in the lake, and it hasn't been accepted because there wasn't any of that in it." He repeated the movement of his fingers, shrugged his shoulders, and gazed at the others as though to say, "Have you ever heard of such a misfortune?"

"May we know what it was?" asked several, drawing nearer and giving him their attention. The projects of Don Custodio were as renowned as quacks' specifics.

Don Custodio was on the point of refusing to explain it from resentment at not having found any supporters in his diatribe against Simoun. "When there's no danger, you want me to talk, eh? And when there is, you keep quiet!" he was going to say, but that would cause the loss of a good opportunity, and his project, now that it could not be carried out, might at least be known and admired.

After blowing out two or three puffs of smoke, coughing, and spitting through a scupper, he slapped Ben-Zayb on the thigh and asked, "You've seen ducks?"

"I rather think so--we've hunted them on the lake," answered the surprised journalist.

"No, I'm not talking about wild ducks, I'm talking of the domestic ones, of those that are raised in Pateros and Pasig. Do you know what they feed on?"

Ben-Zayb, the only thinking head, did not know--he was not engaged in that business.

"On snails, man, on snails!" exclaimed Padre Camorra. "One doesn't have to be an Indian to know that; it's sufficient to have eyes!"

"Exactly so, on snails!" repeated Don Custodio, flourishing his forefinger. "And do you know where they get them?"

Again the thinking head did not know.

"Well, if you had been in the country as many years as I have, you would know that they fish them out of the bar itself, where they abound, mixed with the sand."

"Then your project?"

"Well, I'm coming to that. My idea was to compel all the towns round about, near the bar, to raise ducks, and you'll see how they, all by themselves, will deepen the channel by fishing for the snails--no more and no less, no more and no less!"

Here Don Custodio extended his arms and gazed triumphantly at the stupefaction of his hearers--to none of them had occurred such an original idea.

"Will you allow me to write an article about that?" asked Ben-Zayb. "In this country there is so little thinking done--"

ON THE LOWER DECK

Nevertheless, two of them, instead of engaging in these fleeting gallantries, stood in the bow talking with a man, advanced in years, but still vigorous and erect. Both these youths seemed to be well known and respected, to judge from the deference shown them by their fellow passengers. The elder, who was dressed in complete black, was the medical student, Basilio, famous for his successful cures and extraordinary treatments, while the other, taller and more robust, although much younger, was Isagani, one of the poets, or at least rimesters, who that year came from the Ateneo, a curious character, ordinarily quite taciturn and uncommunicative. The man talking with them was the rich Capitan Basilio, who was returning from a business trip to Manila.

"Opium is one of the plagues of modern times," replied the capitan with the disdain and indignation of a Roman senator. "The ancients knew about it but never abused it. While the addiction to classical studies lasted--mark this well, young men--opium was used solely as a medicine; and besides, tell me who smoke it the most?--Chinamen, Chinamen who don't understand a word of Latin! Ah, if Capitan Tiago had only devoted himself to Cicero--" Here the most classical disgust painted itself on his carefully-shaven Epicurean face. Isagani regarded him with attention: that gentleman was suffering from nostalgia for antiquity.

"But to get back to this academy of Castilian," Capitan Basilio continued, "I assure you, gentlemen, that you won't materialize it."

"Yes, sir, from day to day we're expecting the permit," replied Isagani. "Padre Irene, whom you may have noticed above, and to whom we've presented a team of bays, has promised it to us. He's on his way now to confer with the General."

"That doesn't matter. Padre Sibyla is opposed to it."

"Let him oppose it! That's why he's here on the steamer, in order to--at Los Ba?os before the General."

And the student Basilio filled out his meaning by going through the pantomime of striking his fists together.

"That's understood," observed Capitan Basilio, smiling. "But even though you get the permit, where'll you get the funds?"

"We have them, sir. Each student has contributed a real."

"But what about the professors?"

"We have them: half Filipinos and half Peninsulars."

"And the house?"

"Makaraig, the wealthy Makaraig, has offered one of his."

Capitan Basilio had to give in; these young men had everything arranged.

The youths smiled at each other. "These men of the past," remarked Isagani, "find obstacles for everything. Propose a thing to them and instead of seeing its advantages they only fix their attention on the difficulties. They want everything to come smooth and round as a billiard ball."

"He's right at home with your uncle," observed Basilio.

"They talk of past times. But listen--speaking of uncles, what does yours say about Paulita?"

Isagani blushed. "He preached me a sermon about the choosing of a wife. I answered him that there wasn't in Manila another like her--beautiful, well-bred, an orphan--"

"Very wealthy, elegant, charming, with no defect other than a ridiculous aunt," added Basilio, at which both smiled.

"In regard to the aunt, do you know that she has charged me to look for her husband?"

"Do?a Victorina? And you've promised, in order to keep your sweetheart."

"Naturally! But the fact is that her husband is actually hidden--in my uncle's house!"

Both burst into a laugh at this, while Isagani continued: "That's why my uncle, being a conscientious man, won't go on the upper deck, fearful that Do?a Victorina will ask him about Don Tiburcio. Just imagine, when Do?a Victorina learned that I was a steerage passenger she gazed at me with a disdain that--"

At that moment Simoun came down and, catching sight of the two young men, greeted Basilio in a patronizing tone: "Hello, Don Basilio, you're off for the vacation? Is the gentleman a townsman of yours?"

Basilio introduced Isagani with the remark that he was not a townsman, but that their homes were not very far apart. Isagani lived on the seashore of the opposite coast. Simoun examined him with such marked attention that he was annoyed, turned squarely around, and faced the jeweler with a provoking stare.

"Well, what is the province like?" the latter asked, turning again to Basilio.

"Why, aren't you familiar with it?"

"How the devil am I to know it when I've never set foot in it? I've been told that it's very poor and doesn't buy jewels."

"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. "I had no bad intentions, but as I've been assured that nearly all the money is in the hands of the native priests, I said to myself: the friars are dying for curacies and the Franciscans are satisfied with the poorest, so when they give them up to the native priests the truth must be that the king's profile is unknown there. But enough of that! Come and have a beer with me and we'll drink to the prosperity of your province."

The youths thanked him, but declined the offer.

"You do wrong," Simoun said to them, visibly taken aback. "Beer is a good thing, and I heard Padre Camorra say this morning that the lack of energy noticeable in this country is due to the great amount of water the inhabitants drink."

Isagani was almost as tall as the jeweler, and at this he drew himself up.

"Then tell Padre Camorra," Basilio hastened to say, while he nudged Isagani slyly, "tell him that if he would drink water instead of wine or beer, perhaps we might all be the gainers and he would not give rise to so much talk."

"And tell him, also," added Isagani, paying no attention to his friend's nudges, "that water is very mild and can be drunk, but that it drowns out the wine and beer and puts out the fire, that heated it becomes steam, and that ruffled it is the ocean, that it once destroyed mankind and made the earth tremble to its foundations!"

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