went to Manila to work in some rich house and study at the same time,
as many do. His journey was an Odyssey of sleeplessness and startling
surprises, in which hunger counted for little, for he ate the fruits
in the woods, whither he retreated whenever he made out from afar the
uniform of the Civil Guard, a sight that recalled the origin of all
his misfortunes. Once in Manila, ragged and sick, he went from door
to door offering his services. A boy from the provinces who knew not
a single word of Spanish, and sickly besides! Discouraged, hungry, and
miserable, he wandered about the streets, attracting attention by the
wretchedness of his clothing. How often was he tempted to throw himself
under the feet of the horses that flashed by, drawing carriages shining
with silver and varnish, thus to end his misery at once! Fortunately,
he saw Capitan Tiago, accompanied by Aunt Isabel. He had known them
since the days in San Diego, and in his joy believed that in them he
saw almost fellow-townsfolk. He followed the carriage until he lost
sight of it, and then made inquiries for the house. As it was the
very day that Maria Clara entered the nunnery and Capitan Tiago was
accordingly depressed, he was admitted as a servant, without pay,
but instead with leave to study, if he so wished, in San Juan de
Letran. [15]

Dirty, poorly dressed, with only a pair of clogs for footwear, at
the end of several months' stay in Manila, he entered the first year
of Latin. On seeing his clothes, his classmates drew away from him,
and the professor, a handsome Dominican, never asked him a question,
but frowned every time he looked at him. In the eight months that
the class continued, the only words that passed between them were
his name read from the roll and the daily _adsum_ with which the
student responded. With what bitterness he left the class each
day, and, guessing the reason for the treatment accorded him, what