“The fact is that it involves other considerations,” said Padre Sibyla coldly, as he half closed his eyes.

The high official again shrugged his shoulders, like one who did not comprehend what those considerations could be.

“Besides the intemperateness of the demand,” went on the Dominican, “besides the fact that it is in the nature of an infringement on our prerogatives—­”

Padre Sibyla dared not go on, but looked at Simoun.

“The petition has a somewhat suspicious character,” corroborated that individual, exchanging a look with the Dominican, who winked several times.

Padre Irene noticed these things and realized that his cause was almost lost—­Simoun was against him.

“It’s a peaceful rebellion, a revolution on stamped paper,” added Padre Sibyla.

“Revolution?  Rebellion?” inquired the high official, staring from one to the other as if he did not understand what they could mean.

“It’s headed by some young men charged with being too radical and too much interested in reforms, not to use stronger terms,” remarked the secretary, with a look at the Dominican.  “Among them is a certain Isagani, a poorly balanced head, nephew of a native priest—­”

“He’s a pupil of mine,” put in Padre Fernandez, “and I’m much pleased with him.”

“Punales, I like your taste!” exclaimed Padre Camorra.  “On the steamer we nearly had a fight.  He’s so insolent that when I gave him a shove aside he returned it.”

“There’s also one Makaragui or Makarai—­”

“Makaraig,” Padre Irene joined in.  “A very pleasant and agreeable young man.”

Then he murmured into the General’s ear, “He’s the one I’ve talked to you about, he’s very rich.  The Countess recommends him strongly.”

“Ah!”

“A medical student, one Basilio—­”

“Of that Basilio, I’ll say nothing,” observed Padre Irene, raising his hands and opening them, as if to say Dominus vobiscum.  “He’s too deep for me.  I’ve never succeeded in fathoming what he wants or what he is thinking about.  It’s a pity that Padre Salvi isn’t present to tell us something about his antecedents.  I believe that I’ve heard that when a boy he got into trouble with the Civil Guard.  His father was killed in—­I don’t remember what disturbance.”

Simoun smiled faintly, silently, showing his sharp white teeth.

“Aha!  Aha!” said his Excellency nodding.  “That’s the kind we have!  Make a note of that name.”

“But, General,” objected the high official, seeing that the matter was taking a bad turn, “up to now nothing positive is known against these young men.  Their position is a very just one, and we have no right to deny it on the ground of mere conjectures.  My opinion is that the government, by exhibiting confidence in the people and in its own stability, should grant what is asked, then it could freely revoke the permission when it saw that its kindness was being abused—­reasons and pretexts would not be wanting, we can watch them.  Why cause disaffection among some young men, who later on may feel resentment, when what they ask is commanded by royal decrees?”