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 Padre Irene, Don Custodio, and Padre Fernandez nodded in agreement.

"But the Indians must not understand Castilian, you know," cried Padre Camorra. "They mustn't learn it, for then they'll enter into arguments with us, and the Indians must not argue, but obey and pay. They mustn't try to interpret the meaning of the laws and the books, they're so tricky and pettifogish! Just as soon as they learn Castilian they become enemies of God and of Spain. Just read the Tandang Basio Macunat—that's a book! It tells truths like this!" And he held up his clenched fists.

Padre Sibyla rubbed his hand over his tonsure in sign of impatience. "One word," he began in the most conciliatory tone, though fuming with irritation, "here we 're not dealing with the instruction in Castilian alone. Here there is an underhand fight between the students and the University of Santo Tomas. If the students win this, our prestige will be trampled in the dirt, they will say that they've beaten us and will exult accordingly. Then, good-by to moral strength, good-by to everything! The first dike broken down, who will restrain this youth? With our fall we do no more than signal your own. After us, the government!"

"Puñales, that's not so!" exclaimed Padre Camorra. "We 'll see first who has the biggest fists!"

At this point Padre Fernandez, who thus far in the discussion had merely contented himself with smiling, began to talk. All gave him their attention, for they knew him to be a thoughtful man.

"Don't take it ill of me, Padre Sibyla, if I differ from your view of the affair, but it’s my peculiar fate to be almost always in opposition to my brethren. I say, then, that we ought not to be so pessimistic. The instruction in Castilian can be allowed without any risk whatever, and in order that it may not appear to be a defeat of the University, we Dominicans ought to put forth our efforts and