Part 33 (1/2)

”No, man, nothing more than students.”

Basilio recovered his serenity. ”What has happened then?” he made bold to ask.

”Seditious pasquinades have been found; didn't you know about them?”

”Where?”

”In the University.”

”Nothing more than that?”

”Whew! What more do you want?” asked the professor, almost in a rage. ”The pasquinades are attributed to the students of the a.s.sociation--but, keep quiet!”

The professor of pathology came along, a man who had more the look of a sacristan than of a physician. Appointed by the powerful mandate of the Vice-Rector, without other merit than unconditional servility to the corporation, he pa.s.sed for a spy and an informer in the eyes of the rest of the faculty.

The first professor returned his greeting coldly, and winked to Basilio, as he said to him, ”Now I know that Capitan Tiago smells like a corpse--the crows and vultures have been gathering around him.” So saying, he went inside.

Somewhat calmed, Basilio now ventured to inquire for more details, but all that he could learn was that pasquinades had been found on the doors of the University, and that the Vice-Rector had ordered them to be taken down and sent to the Civil Government. It was said that they were filled with threats of a.s.sa.s.sination, invasion, and other braggadocio.

The students made their comments on the affair. Their information came from the janitor, who had it from a servant in Santo Tomas, who had it from an usher. They prognosticated future suspensions and imprisonments, even indicating who were to be the victims--naturally the members of the a.s.sociation.

Basilio then recalled Simoun's words: ”The day in which they can get rid of you, you will not complete your course.”

”Could he have known anything?” he asked himself. ”We'll see who is the most powerful.”

Recovering his serenity, he went on toward the University, to learn what att.i.tude it behooved him to take and at the same time to see about his licentiates.h.i.+p. He pa.s.sed along Calle Legazpi, then down through Beaterio, and upon arriving at the corner of this street and Calle Solana saw that something important must indeed have happened. Instead of the former lively, chattering groups on the sidewalks were to be seen civil-guards making the students move on, and these latter issuing from the University silent, some gloomy, some agitated, to stand off at a distance or make their way home.

The first acquaintance he met was Sandoval, but Basilio called to him in vain. He seemed to have been smitten deaf. ”Effect of fear on the gastro-intestinal juices,” thought Basilio.

Later he met Tadeo, who wore a Christmas face--at last that eternal holiday seemed to be realized.

”What has happened, Tadeo?”

”We'll have no school, at least for a week, old man! Sublime! Magnificent!” He rubbed his hands in glee.

”But what has happened?”

”They're going to arrest all of us in the a.s.sociation.”

”And are you glad of that?”

”There'll be no school, there'll be no school!” He moved away almost bursting with joy.

Basilio saw Juanito Pelaez approaching, pale and suspicious. This time his hump had reached its maximum, so great was his haste to get away. He had been one of the most active promoters of the a.s.sociation while things were running smoothly.

”Eh, Pelaez, what's happened?”

”Nothing, I know nothing. I didn't have anything to do with it,”

he responded nervously. ”I was always telling you that these things were quixotisms. It's the truth, you know I've said so to you?”