who had aged greatly. His hair was gray and his baldness extended
over nearly the whole crown of his head. His countenance was sour
and austere.

There was complete silence in the study, except for the whispers of the
clerks and understudies who were at work in an adjoining room. Their
pens scratched as though quarreling with the paper.

At length the lawyer finished what he was writing, laid down his pen,
raised his head, and, recognizing the youth, let his face light up
with a smile as he extended his hand affectionately.

"Welcome, young man! But sit down, and excuse me, for I didn't know
that it was you. How is your uncle?"

Isagani took courage, believing that his case would get on well. He
related briefly what had been done, the while studying the effect of
his words. Señor Pasta listened impassively at first and, although
he was informed of the efforts of the students, pretended ignorance,
as if to show that he had nothing to do with such childish matters,
but when he began to suspect what was wanted of him and heard mention
of the Vice-Rector, friars, the Captain-General, a project, and so on,
his face slowly darkened and he finally exclaimed, "This is the land
of projects! But go on, go on!"

Isagani was not yet discouraged. He spoke of the manner in which a
decision was to be reached and concluded with an expression of the
confidence which the young men entertained that he, Señor Pasta,
would _intercede_ in their behalf in case Don Custodio should consult
him, as was to be expected. He did not dare to say would _advise_,