is about worn out, so let's prepare another, the bond of gratitude,
for example. Let's not be fools, let's do as the crafty Jesuits--"

"Padre Fernandez!" Anything could be tolerated by Padre Sibyla except
to propose the Jesuits to him as a model. Pale and trembling, he
broke out into bitter recrimination. "A Franciscan first! Anything
before a Jesuit!" He was beside himself.

"Oh, oh!"

"Eh, Padre--"

A general discussion broke out, regardless of the Captain-General. All
talked at once, they yelled, they misunderstood and contradicted
one another. Ben-Zayb and Padre Camorra shook their fists in each
other's faces, one talking of simpletons and the other of ink-slingers,
Padre Sibyla kept harping on the _Capitulum_, and Padre Fernandez on
the _Summa_ of St. Thomas, until the curate of Los Baños entered to
announce that breakfast was served.

His Excellency arose and so ended the discussion. "Well, gentlemen,"
he said, "we've worked like niggers and yet we're on a vacation. Some
one has said that grave matters should he considered at dessert. I'm
entirely of that opinion."

"We might get indigestion," remarked the secretary, alluding to the
heat of the discussion.

"Then we'll lay it aside until tomorrow."