CHAPTER XXXIII
PLAYING CARDS WITH THE SHADES.
A cloudy sky hides the moon, and a cold wind, the omen of approaching
December, whirls the dry leaves and dust in the narrow path leading
to the cemetery.
Under the gate, three forms are conversing in a low tone.
"Have you spoken to Elias?" asked a voice.
"No; you know he is very odd and discreet. But he ought to be with
us. Don Crisostomo saved his life."
"I accepted the offer for the same reason," said the first voice. "Don
Crisostomo is having my wife treated at a doctor's house in Manila. I
have agreed to take charge of the convent in the attack, so that I
can settle my accounts with the curate."
"And we, we will have charge of the attack on the cuartel, so that we
can say to the members of the Guardia Civil that our father had sons."
"How many will there be of you?"
"Five! Five will be enough. Don Crisostomo's servant says that there
will be twenty in all."
"And if things don't turn out well?"
"St!" said one, and they all became silent.
In the semi-darkness, a form could be seen crawling along the
fence. From time to time it stopped, as if to look behind.
And it did so not without reason. Behind, at some twenty paces,
came another form. This one was taller and seemed to be darker than
the first. Each time that the first stopped this second one would
disappear as if the earth had swallowed it.
"They are following me," murmured the one ahead. "Is it a Guardia
Civil? Has the sacristan lied?"
"It appears that the appointment is here," said the second, in a low
voice. "They are up to something bad, when the two brothers hide it
from me."
The first form finally arrived at the gate of the cemetery. The three
who were already there advanced.
"Is it you?"
"Is it you?"
"Let us separate. Some one is following me. To-morrow we will have
the arms and to-morrow night will be our time. The cry is 'Viva Don
Crisostomo!' Begone!"
The three persons disappeared behind the wall. The recent arrival
hid himself in the hollow of the gate and waited silently.
"Let's see who is following me!" he murmured.
The second person came along very cautiously, and stopped to look
around.
"I have arrived late!" said he in a half intelligible voice. "But
perhaps they will return."
And, as a fine rain began to fall and threatened to continue, he took
refuge under the gate. Naturally, he met the other.
"Ah! who are you?" asked the one who had just come up, in a manly
voice.
"And who are you?" replied the other tranquilly.
There was a moment's pause. Each tried to recognize the other by the
tone of his voice and to distinguish the other's features.
"What are you waiting here for?" asked the one with the heavy voice.
"Till the clock strikes eight, so as to have a game of cards with
the dead. I want to win some money to-night," replied the other,
in an ordinary tone. "And you: what do you come here for?"
"A-a-for the same thing."
"Well! I am glad. So I will not be without a companion. I have brought
some cards. At the first stroke of the bell, I put down the albur
(the first two cards put on the board in monte). At the second stroke,
I put down the gallo (the second pair). The cards which move after I
have put them down, are those which the dead choose for themselves. Did
you also bring some cards?"
"No."
"Then?"
"It is simple. Just as you act as 'banker' for them, so I hope that
they will 'bank' for me." (In monte the banker deals the cards and
bets that one of the cards in either the albur or gallo is turned up
by dealing off the pack, before the card chosen by the other person
is turned up. A banker can play against two others.)
"And if the shades do not care to 'bank'?"
"What can be done? The game is not obligatory upon the dead."
There was a moment's silence.
"Did you come armed? What if you have to fight with the shades of
the dead?"
"I'll use my fists," replied the taller of the two.
"Ah! The devil! Now, I remember! The dead do not bet when there is
more than one live person around. There are two of us."
"Is that true? Well, I don't want to go away."
"Nor I. I need some money," replied the smaller one. "But let us do
this: We will decide by the cards which one shall go away."
"All right!" replied the other, showing a certain amount of
displeasure.
"Then let us go in. Have you any matches?"
They entered the cemetery and in the obscurity they searched for a
place where they might decide the question with the cards. They soon
found a niche upon which they sat down. The shorter one took from
his hat some playing cards and the other lighted a match.
Each one looked at the other in the light which the match made, but,
judging from the expression on their faces, they did not recognize
each other. However, we can recognize in the taller one, the one with
the manly voice, Elias; and in the smaller one, Lucas, with the scar
on his cheek.
"Cut the cards!" said the latter, without ceasing to look at the other.
He pushed aside some bones which were found on the niche and turned up
an ace and a jack for the albur. Elias lighted one match after another.
"On the jack!" said he and, in order to show which of the cards he
was betting on, he placed upon it a piece of vertebrae.
"I deal!" said Lucas and, after turning up four or five cards, an
ace came up.
"You have lost," he added. "Now leave me alone so that I may win
some money."
Elias, without saying a word, disappeared in the darkness.
Some minutes afterward, the clock in the church struck eight and the
bell announced the hour of prayer. But Lucas did not invite anybody
to play with him. He did not call out the shades, as superstition
demanded. Instead, he uncovered his head, murmured some prayers and
crossed himself with the same fervor as the chief of the Brotherhood
of the Most Sacred Rosary would have done at that moment.
The drizzling rain continued all night. At nine o'clock the streets
were dark and lonely. The little cocoanut oil lanterns, which each
citizen had to hang out in front of his house gave light scarcely a
meter around. It seemed as though they had been lighted so one might
see the darkness.
Two Civil Guards were walking from one side of the street to the
other near the church.
"It is cold," said one in Tagalog with a Visayan accent. "We aren't
catching any sacristans. There is nobody to clean out the alferez's hen
yard and we ought to catch some sacristan and make him do it. Since
that one was killed, they have taken warning. I am getting tired
of this."
"So am I," replied the other. "Nobody commits any robbery; no one
disturbs the peace; but, thank God, they say that Elias is in town. The
alferez says that the one who catches him will be free from whippings
for three months."
"Ah! Do you know his identification marks?" asked the Visayan.
"I certainly do! Stature, tall, according to the alferez's description;
ordinary, according to the description of Father Damaso; color,
brunette; eyes, black; nose, regular; mouth, regular; beard, none;
hair, black."
"Ah! And particular marks?"
"Camisa, black; pantaloons, black; a wood-cutter-"
"Ah! He will not escape. I think I see him already."
"I don't confuse him with anybody else, although you might think so."
Both soldiers continued their beats.
By the light of the lantern two forms could again be seen, one
following the other cautiously. A forcible "Quien vive?" stops them
both. The first one replied "Espana," in a trembling voice.
The two soldiers drag him along and bring him up to the light,
to recognize him. It was Lucas, but the soldiers were in doubt and
questioned each other with a glance.
"The alferez said nothing about his having a scar," said the Visayan
in a low voice. "Where are you going?"
"To order a mass for to-morrow."
"Have you not seen Elias?"
"I do not know him, senor," replied Lucas.
"You dunce! I am not asking if you know him. Nor do we know him. I
am asking you if you have seen him."
"No, senor."
"Listen closely. I will give you his description. Stature, at times
tall, at times regular; skin and eyes, black; all the others are
regular," said the Visayan. "Do you know him now?"
"No, senor," replied Lucas, frightened.
"Then, sulung! (Go along). You brute! You ass!" And they gave him
a shove.
"Do you know why Elias is tall, according to the alferez, and why he
is short, according to the curate?" asked the Tagalog of the other.
"No."
"Because the alferez was stuck in a mud hole when he observed him,
and the curate was on foot when he saw him."
"That's right!" exclaimed the Visayan. "You are bright. Why are you
a Guardia Civil?"
"I haven't been always. I was a smuggler at one time," replied the
Tagalog boastingly.
But another form attracted their attention. They called out "Quien
Vive?" and brought him up to the light. This time it was Elias himself.
"Where are you going?"
"I am pursuing, senor, a man who has whipped and threatened my
brother. He has a scar on his face and his name is Elias-"
"Ha?" exclaimed the two, and looked at each other frightened.
And at once they started on a run toward the church, where a few
minutes before Lucas had disappeared.