Chinese--the same, the very, very same that happens to the government
and to the Philippines: they seem to be Chinese, but whether they
are or not, the Holy Mother has her doctors--all eat and enjoy it,
yet characterize it as disagreeable and loathsome, the same as with
the country, the same as with the government. All live at its cost,
all share in its feast, and afterwards there is no worse country than
the Philippines, there is no government more imperfect. Let us then
dedicate the _pansit_ to the country and to the government."

"Agreed!" many exclaimed.

"I protest!" cried Isagani.

"Respect for the weaker, respect for the victims," called Pecson in
a hollow voice, waving a chicken-bone in the air.

"Let's dedicate the _pansit_ to Quiroga the Chinaman, one of the four
powers of the Filipino world," proposed Isagani.

"No, to his Black Eminence."

"Silence!" cautioned one mysteriously. "There are people in the plaza
watching us, and walls have ears."

True it was that curious groups were standing by the windows, while
the talk and laughter in the adjoining houses had ceased altogether, as
if the people there were giving their attention to what was occurring
at the banquet. There was something extraordinary about the silence.

"Tadeo, deliver your speech," Makaraig whispered to him.