"He is rich, you say. The rich think only of increasing their riches. Not one of them would compromise his peace to go to the aid of those who suffer. I know it, I who was rich myself."
"But he is not like the others. And he is a young man about to marry, who wishes the tranquillity of his country for the sake of his children's children."
"He is a man, then, who is going to be happy. Our cause is not that of fortunate men."
"True," said the old man, seating himself again. "Let us suppose he consents to be our mouthpiece. Let us suppose he wins the captain-general, and finds at Madrid deputies who can plead for us; do you believe we shall have justice?"
"Let us try it before we try measures of blood," said Elias. "It must surprise you that I, an outlaw too, and young and strong, propose pacific measures. It is because I see the number of miseries which we ourselves cause, as well as our tyrants. It is always the unarmed who pay the penalty."
"If we are not heard, if our grievances are made light of, I shall be the first to put myself under your orders."
The old man embraced Elias, a strange light in his eyes.
"I accept the proposition," he said; "I know you will keep your word. I will help you to avenge your parents; you shall help me to avenge my sons!"
"Meanwhile, señor, you will do nothing violent."
"And you will set forth the wrongs of the people; you know them. When shall I have the response?"
"In four days send me a man to the lake shore of San Diego. I will tell him the decision, and name the person on whom I count."
"Elias will be chief when Captain Pablo is fallen," said the old man. And he himself accompanied the helmsman out of the cave.
The day after the departure of the doctor and the doctora, Ibarra returned to the pueblo. He hastened to the house of Captain Tiago to tell Maria he had been reconciled to the Church. Aunt Isabel, who was fond of the young fellow, and anxious for his marriage with her niece, was filled with joy. Captain Tiago was not at home.
"Come in!" Aunt Isabel cried in her bad Castilian. "Maria, Crisóstomo has returned to favor with the Church; the archbishop has disexcommunicated him!"
But Crisóstomo stood still, the smile froze on his lips, the words he was to say to Maria fled from his mind. Leaning against the balcony beside her was Linares; on the floor lay leafless roses and sampagas. The Spaniard was making garlands with the flowers and leaves from the vines; Maria Clara, buried in her fauteuil, pale and thoughtful, was playing with an ivory fan, less white than her slender hands.