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the date of the f?te, but before using it His Excellency pronounced a short allocution in Castilian.
"Citizens of San Diego," he said, "we have the honor of presiding at a ceremony whose importance you know without explanations. We are founding a school, and the school is the basis of society, the book wherein is written the future of each race.
"Citizens of San Diego! Thank God, who has given you these priests! Thank the Mother Country, who spreads civilization in these fertile isles and protects them with the covering of her glorious mantle. Thank God, again, who has enlightened you by his priests from his divine Word.
"And now that the first stone of this building has been blessed, we, the alcalde of this province, in the name of His Majesty the King, whom God guard; in the name of the illustrious Spanish Government, and under the protection of its spotless and ever-victorious flag, consecrate this act and begin the building of this school!
"Citizens of San Diego, long live the king! Long live Spain! Long live the religious orders! Long live the Catholic church!"
"Long live the Se?or Alcalde!" replied many voices.
Then the high official descended majestically, to the strains of the orchestras, put his trowel of cement on the stone, and came back as majestically as he had gone down.
The Government clerks applauded.
Ibarra offered the trowel to the curate, who descended slowly in his turn. In the middle of the staircase he raised his eyes to the great stone suspended above, but he stopped only a second, and continued the descent. This time the applause was a little warmer, Captain Tiago and the monks adding theirs to that of the clerks.
The notary followed. He gallantly offered the trowel to Maria Clara, but she refused, with a smile. The monks, the alf?rez, and others descended in turn, Captain Tiago not being forgotten.
Ibarra was left. He had ordered the stone to be lowered when the curate remembered him.
"You do not put on your trowelful, Se?or Ibarra?" said the curate, with a familiar and jocular air.
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