Chapter 27

In Capitan Tiago’s house, preparations were grand, fueled by his love of ostentation. His pride as a Manilan demanded that he outshine the provincials, especially now that his daughter, Maria Clara, was home, and her fiancé, Ibarra, was drawing attention. A local newspaper had praised Ibarra as a cultured, wealthy philanthropist, and Capitan Tiago, eager to impress, considered erecting a convento in Ibarra’s honor. The day before the fiesta, he gave Maria Clara a diamond and emerald locket containing a relic from St. Peter’s boat.

Ibarra had already encountered Padre Damaso, and though they exchanged pleasantries, Ibarra’s thoughts were elsewhere. Capitan Tiago insisted he stay for dinner, but Ibarra declined, preferring to remain at home in case of visitors. Maria Clara, with her health restored, was radiant and full of youthful charm. She greeted old friends with warmth, her spirits lifted since leaving the convent.

The streets were filled with revelers, lights, and music, the night alive with celebration. They visited Capitan Basilio’s house, where Ibarra was warmly welcomed, and after drinking chocolate, they were entertained by the town organist. Sinang, ever the joker, teased Ibarra about the gathering, and he politely declined an invitation to play cards with Padre Damaso.

As they walked, they passed the parish rectory, where the friars—Padre Damaso and Padre Sibyla among them—were gathered in jovial conversation. Sinang commented on Padre Salvi’s dour demeanor, attributing it to the cost of hosting visitors, and remarked on the strange, unwelcoming behavior of the alferez’s wife, whom she called the "Muse of the Civil Guard."

When they reached the plaza, a strange figure caught their attention—a man in ragged clothes, his face hidden by a broad salakot. He was a leper, and the crowd kept its distance. Maria Clara, moved by compassion, dropped her locket into his basket, though her friends questioned the gesture. The leper, overcome with gratitude, kissed the locket and bowed deeply, while Maria Clara, tears in her eyes, quickly turned away.

The group continued on, and soon they encountered a disturbing sight: Sisa, the madwoman, was attempting to pray with the leper, convinced that the lights in the distance were the souls of her lost sons. The crowd was horrified, but no one dared intervene. As Sisa was dragged away by a soldier, Maria Clara asked Ibarra if there was any way to help her, but he explained that the curate had promised to help, though the matter was complicated by the involvement of the Civil Guard.

As the evening wore on, Maria Clara’s mood darkened. Seeing the suffering of others, she wondered why some people were never happy. At her doorstep, Ibarra excused himself and left, and Maria Clara, now alone, felt the weight of the fiesta’s empty joy.