XII.A CHANGE OF SEX.When next Ambrosia Lonzello regained consciousness she was reposing in a room familiar to her, at the home of Mrs. Rizal. After her last bitter experience she had been cast into the street in a fever and delirium, and, happily for her, had soon been picked up by Mrs. Rizal, who had taken her to her home and nursed her through a siege of fever. Now, as Ambrosia opened her eyes with a rational look, Mrs. Rizal, smiling on her, said:“You are better now.”“How do I come to be here?” asked the girl in confusion.“I found you wandering on the street in a fever and brought you here.”“Oh, then it is true,” cried the girl in horror as memory came to her. “I must go, I am not fit to be in this room with you.”“Nonsense,” responded the older woman, smoothing her pillow. “You have been having bad dreams, and you must forget about them.”“Are you sure they were dreams?”“Perfectly. You have been very sick.”“Where is mother?”“She has been to see you often, and will come again.”“Did she say where I had been?”“She said you had started to confessional, and I suppose the fever came upon you while you were on the way.”The girl lay silent for a time. Finally tears gathered in her eyes. It was a good sign that the power of crying hadreturned to her; tears are a mark of humanity, and only they who are dehumanized or rendered outcasts by persecution or sorrow are unable to weep. Mrs. Rizal stooped and kissed the girl. It was the one act of sympathy she needed to break up the fountains of her heart, for it showed that she was not entirely abandoned, and Ambrosia wept unrestrainedly.“You will be better now,” said Mrs. Rizal when the flood of tears had passed.“Does—General Saguanaldo know?” asked Ambrosia.“If he did, he would have come.” Again it was the wisest word that could have been spoken, simple and unlearned though it may have been, for it intimated that her lover had not ceased to care, and this was of all things the most consoling. Yet a moment after it occurred to Ambrosia that if Saguanaldo had desired to come and not been able, he, too, had been burdened and in trouble. Then it was, with a woman’s abnegation, Ambrosia thought of the woe of her dear one rather than of her own sorrow, and this, too, was an advantage to her.“Are they having trouble at the front?” she asked.“Yes,” Mrs. Rizal replied. “The friars have seized on the churches, the hospitals and convents, and now the American troops are maintaining them in possession of the property they hold. It is the same as though the Americans, afterSaguanaldohad turned the city of Manila over to them, had turned against him and were making war on him and in favor of the friars.”“Someone is behind this change,” declared the girl after a moment’s thought.“Yes, there is a Jesuit here, an envoy from the Pope.”Ambrosia sat up in bed, her eyes distended in horror.“Then it is true,” she said. “It was not a dream. It was good in you to care for me and not desert me in mypollution, but I know now it is true, and you need not deny it.”“But,”—began Mrs. Rizal.“I will not talk about it,” interrupted the girl, “and God will reward you who are so different from other women in that you did not turn away from the victim as from a thing polluted. No, do not interrupt. I am strong now. There is only one thing I may do with the remnant of life left to me. I have no longer father or mother, God or redeemer. I have no place in society on earth. I have no lover, no chance for home or respectability. But I have hope and a purpose. It has just come to me. Do not deny me in the plan I have.”“I will listen to your plan, but you are weak and not yet able to do anything.”The girl leaped out of the bed, let down her hair and hunted a pair of shears. “Cut off my hair, closely,” she said.“I fear you are not yet over the fever,” remonstrated Mrs. Rizal.“I have had no fever,” said the girl, “and I am well. I shall be strong for vengeance and justice. Nay, do not fear, good Mother Rizal, I am sane.”“You have not told me your plan.”“Inasmuch as Ambrosia Lonzello has lost all place in society and on earth, she had the fever and is dead. She is merely another victim of the friars. I, who stand before you, am not Ambrosia Lonzello. I am a man, now and henceforth. I feel within me the vigor and courage of manhood, proving the transformation. Henceforth I shall live only for vengeance and to assist Saguanaldo, who had been Ambrosia’s friend. Cut off the hair that belies my sex, and then we all go to the field to give our lives for the cause.”Mrs. Rizal expostulated, but in vain. She argued asto the girl’s lack of strength, but was actually laughed out of the idea. At last she fell in with the plan, both as being in accord with her own desire and also as being perhaps the only course open to the girl after what had happened.A few hours afterward, then, the transformation was completed. The girl, with her hair cropped close and wearing a suit that had belonged in days past to Dr. Rizal, looked very much like a vigorous young man, and Mrs. Rizal was gratified to find that she showed no sign of failing physical powers. Indeed, she was to all appearance well again.“You see, I have merely been transformed into a new creature,” said the youth, smiling and showing two rows of perfect white teeth. “My name is Hilario Agonoy, at your service.” Bowing low.“When shall we go to the seat of war?”“Mañana1,” replied the youth, gaily. “Don’t you see that Ambrosia is dead?”1Mañana—Tomorrow.↑
XII.A CHANGE OF SEX.When next Ambrosia Lonzello regained consciousness she was reposing in a room familiar to her, at the home of Mrs. Rizal. After her last bitter experience she had been cast into the street in a fever and delirium, and, happily for her, had soon been picked up by Mrs. Rizal, who had taken her to her home and nursed her through a siege of fever. Now, as Ambrosia opened her eyes with a rational look, Mrs. Rizal, smiling on her, said:“You are better now.”“How do I come to be here?” asked the girl in confusion.“I found you wandering on the street in a fever and brought you here.”“Oh, then it is true,” cried the girl in horror as memory came to her. “I must go, I am not fit to be in this room with you.”“Nonsense,” responded the older woman, smoothing her pillow. “You have been having bad dreams, and you must forget about them.”“Are you sure they were dreams?”“Perfectly. You have been very sick.”“Where is mother?”“She has been to see you often, and will come again.”“Did she say where I had been?”“She said you had started to confessional, and I suppose the fever came upon you while you were on the way.”The girl lay silent for a time. Finally tears gathered in her eyes. It was a good sign that the power of crying hadreturned to her; tears are a mark of humanity, and only they who are dehumanized or rendered outcasts by persecution or sorrow are unable to weep. Mrs. Rizal stooped and kissed the girl. It was the one act of sympathy she needed to break up the fountains of her heart, for it showed that she was not entirely abandoned, and Ambrosia wept unrestrainedly.“You will be better now,” said Mrs. Rizal when the flood of tears had passed.“Does—General Saguanaldo know?” asked Ambrosia.“If he did, he would have come.” Again it was the wisest word that could have been spoken, simple and unlearned though it may have been, for it intimated that her lover had not ceased to care, and this was of all things the most consoling. Yet a moment after it occurred to Ambrosia that if Saguanaldo had desired to come and not been able, he, too, had been burdened and in trouble. Then it was, with a woman’s abnegation, Ambrosia thought of the woe of her dear one rather than of her own sorrow, and this, too, was an advantage to her.“Are they having trouble at the front?” she asked.“Yes,” Mrs. Rizal replied. “The friars have seized on the churches, the hospitals and convents, and now the American troops are maintaining them in possession of the property they hold. It is the same as though the Americans, afterSaguanaldohad turned the city of Manila over to them, had turned against him and were making war on him and in favor of the friars.”“Someone is behind this change,” declared the girl after a moment’s thought.“Yes, there is a Jesuit here, an envoy from the Pope.”Ambrosia sat up in bed, her eyes distended in horror.“Then it is true,” she said. “It was not a dream. It was good in you to care for me and not desert me in mypollution, but I know now it is true, and you need not deny it.”“But,”—began Mrs. Rizal.“I will not talk about it,” interrupted the girl, “and God will reward you who are so different from other women in that you did not turn away from the victim as from a thing polluted. No, do not interrupt. I am strong now. There is only one thing I may do with the remnant of life left to me. I have no longer father or mother, God or redeemer. I have no place in society on earth. I have no lover, no chance for home or respectability. But I have hope and a purpose. It has just come to me. Do not deny me in the plan I have.”“I will listen to your plan, but you are weak and not yet able to do anything.”The girl leaped out of the bed, let down her hair and hunted a pair of shears. “Cut off my hair, closely,” she said.“I fear you are not yet over the fever,” remonstrated Mrs. Rizal.“I have had no fever,” said the girl, “and I am well. I shall be strong for vengeance and justice. Nay, do not fear, good Mother Rizal, I am sane.”“You have not told me your plan.”“Inasmuch as Ambrosia Lonzello has lost all place in society and on earth, she had the fever and is dead. She is merely another victim of the friars. I, who stand before you, am not Ambrosia Lonzello. I am a man, now and henceforth. I feel within me the vigor and courage of manhood, proving the transformation. Henceforth I shall live only for vengeance and to assist Saguanaldo, who had been Ambrosia’s friend. Cut off the hair that belies my sex, and then we all go to the field to give our lives for the cause.”Mrs. Rizal expostulated, but in vain. She argued asto the girl’s lack of strength, but was actually laughed out of the idea. At last she fell in with the plan, both as being in accord with her own desire and also as being perhaps the only course open to the girl after what had happened.A few hours afterward, then, the transformation was completed. The girl, with her hair cropped close and wearing a suit that had belonged in days past to Dr. Rizal, looked very much like a vigorous young man, and Mrs. Rizal was gratified to find that she showed no sign of failing physical powers. Indeed, she was to all appearance well again.“You see, I have merely been transformed into a new creature,” said the youth, smiling and showing two rows of perfect white teeth. “My name is Hilario Agonoy, at your service.” Bowing low.“When shall we go to the seat of war?”“Mañana1,” replied the youth, gaily. “Don’t you see that Ambrosia is dead?”1Mañana—Tomorrow.↑
XII.A CHANGE OF SEX.
When next Ambrosia Lonzello regained consciousness she was reposing in a room familiar to her, at the home of Mrs. Rizal. After her last bitter experience she had been cast into the street in a fever and delirium, and, happily for her, had soon been picked up by Mrs. Rizal, who had taken her to her home and nursed her through a siege of fever. Now, as Ambrosia opened her eyes with a rational look, Mrs. Rizal, smiling on her, said:“You are better now.”“How do I come to be here?” asked the girl in confusion.“I found you wandering on the street in a fever and brought you here.”“Oh, then it is true,” cried the girl in horror as memory came to her. “I must go, I am not fit to be in this room with you.”“Nonsense,” responded the older woman, smoothing her pillow. “You have been having bad dreams, and you must forget about them.”“Are you sure they were dreams?”“Perfectly. You have been very sick.”“Where is mother?”“She has been to see you often, and will come again.”“Did she say where I had been?”“She said you had started to confessional, and I suppose the fever came upon you while you were on the way.”The girl lay silent for a time. Finally tears gathered in her eyes. It was a good sign that the power of crying hadreturned to her; tears are a mark of humanity, and only they who are dehumanized or rendered outcasts by persecution or sorrow are unable to weep. Mrs. Rizal stooped and kissed the girl. It was the one act of sympathy she needed to break up the fountains of her heart, for it showed that she was not entirely abandoned, and Ambrosia wept unrestrainedly.“You will be better now,” said Mrs. Rizal when the flood of tears had passed.“Does—General Saguanaldo know?” asked Ambrosia.“If he did, he would have come.” Again it was the wisest word that could have been spoken, simple and unlearned though it may have been, for it intimated that her lover had not ceased to care, and this was of all things the most consoling. Yet a moment after it occurred to Ambrosia that if Saguanaldo had desired to come and not been able, he, too, had been burdened and in trouble. Then it was, with a woman’s abnegation, Ambrosia thought of the woe of her dear one rather than of her own sorrow, and this, too, was an advantage to her.“Are they having trouble at the front?” she asked.“Yes,” Mrs. Rizal replied. “The friars have seized on the churches, the hospitals and convents, and now the American troops are maintaining them in possession of the property they hold. It is the same as though the Americans, afterSaguanaldohad turned the city of Manila over to them, had turned against him and were making war on him and in favor of the friars.”“Someone is behind this change,” declared the girl after a moment’s thought.“Yes, there is a Jesuit here, an envoy from the Pope.”Ambrosia sat up in bed, her eyes distended in horror.“Then it is true,” she said. “It was not a dream. It was good in you to care for me and not desert me in mypollution, but I know now it is true, and you need not deny it.”“But,”—began Mrs. Rizal.“I will not talk about it,” interrupted the girl, “and God will reward you who are so different from other women in that you did not turn away from the victim as from a thing polluted. No, do not interrupt. I am strong now. There is only one thing I may do with the remnant of life left to me. I have no longer father or mother, God or redeemer. I have no place in society on earth. I have no lover, no chance for home or respectability. But I have hope and a purpose. It has just come to me. Do not deny me in the plan I have.”“I will listen to your plan, but you are weak and not yet able to do anything.”The girl leaped out of the bed, let down her hair and hunted a pair of shears. “Cut off my hair, closely,” she said.“I fear you are not yet over the fever,” remonstrated Mrs. Rizal.“I have had no fever,” said the girl, “and I am well. I shall be strong for vengeance and justice. Nay, do not fear, good Mother Rizal, I am sane.”“You have not told me your plan.”“Inasmuch as Ambrosia Lonzello has lost all place in society and on earth, she had the fever and is dead. She is merely another victim of the friars. I, who stand before you, am not Ambrosia Lonzello. I am a man, now and henceforth. I feel within me the vigor and courage of manhood, proving the transformation. Henceforth I shall live only for vengeance and to assist Saguanaldo, who had been Ambrosia’s friend. Cut off the hair that belies my sex, and then we all go to the field to give our lives for the cause.”Mrs. Rizal expostulated, but in vain. She argued asto the girl’s lack of strength, but was actually laughed out of the idea. At last she fell in with the plan, both as being in accord with her own desire and also as being perhaps the only course open to the girl after what had happened.A few hours afterward, then, the transformation was completed. The girl, with her hair cropped close and wearing a suit that had belonged in days past to Dr. Rizal, looked very much like a vigorous young man, and Mrs. Rizal was gratified to find that she showed no sign of failing physical powers. Indeed, she was to all appearance well again.“You see, I have merely been transformed into a new creature,” said the youth, smiling and showing two rows of perfect white teeth. “My name is Hilario Agonoy, at your service.” Bowing low.“When shall we go to the seat of war?”“Mañana1,” replied the youth, gaily. “Don’t you see that Ambrosia is dead?”
When next Ambrosia Lonzello regained consciousness she was reposing in a room familiar to her, at the home of Mrs. Rizal. After her last bitter experience she had been cast into the street in a fever and delirium, and, happily for her, had soon been picked up by Mrs. Rizal, who had taken her to her home and nursed her through a siege of fever. Now, as Ambrosia opened her eyes with a rational look, Mrs. Rizal, smiling on her, said:
“You are better now.”
“How do I come to be here?” asked the girl in confusion.
“I found you wandering on the street in a fever and brought you here.”
“Oh, then it is true,” cried the girl in horror as memory came to her. “I must go, I am not fit to be in this room with you.”
“Nonsense,” responded the older woman, smoothing her pillow. “You have been having bad dreams, and you must forget about them.”
“Are you sure they were dreams?”
“Perfectly. You have been very sick.”
“Where is mother?”
“She has been to see you often, and will come again.”
“Did she say where I had been?”
“She said you had started to confessional, and I suppose the fever came upon you while you were on the way.”
The girl lay silent for a time. Finally tears gathered in her eyes. It was a good sign that the power of crying hadreturned to her; tears are a mark of humanity, and only they who are dehumanized or rendered outcasts by persecution or sorrow are unable to weep. Mrs. Rizal stooped and kissed the girl. It was the one act of sympathy she needed to break up the fountains of her heart, for it showed that she was not entirely abandoned, and Ambrosia wept unrestrainedly.
“You will be better now,” said Mrs. Rizal when the flood of tears had passed.
“Does—General Saguanaldo know?” asked Ambrosia.
“If he did, he would have come.” Again it was the wisest word that could have been spoken, simple and unlearned though it may have been, for it intimated that her lover had not ceased to care, and this was of all things the most consoling. Yet a moment after it occurred to Ambrosia that if Saguanaldo had desired to come and not been able, he, too, had been burdened and in trouble. Then it was, with a woman’s abnegation, Ambrosia thought of the woe of her dear one rather than of her own sorrow, and this, too, was an advantage to her.
“Are they having trouble at the front?” she asked.
“Yes,” Mrs. Rizal replied. “The friars have seized on the churches, the hospitals and convents, and now the American troops are maintaining them in possession of the property they hold. It is the same as though the Americans, afterSaguanaldohad turned the city of Manila over to them, had turned against him and were making war on him and in favor of the friars.”
“Someone is behind this change,” declared the girl after a moment’s thought.
“Yes, there is a Jesuit here, an envoy from the Pope.”
Ambrosia sat up in bed, her eyes distended in horror.
“Then it is true,” she said. “It was not a dream. It was good in you to care for me and not desert me in mypollution, but I know now it is true, and you need not deny it.”
“But,”—began Mrs. Rizal.
“I will not talk about it,” interrupted the girl, “and God will reward you who are so different from other women in that you did not turn away from the victim as from a thing polluted. No, do not interrupt. I am strong now. There is only one thing I may do with the remnant of life left to me. I have no longer father or mother, God or redeemer. I have no place in society on earth. I have no lover, no chance for home or respectability. But I have hope and a purpose. It has just come to me. Do not deny me in the plan I have.”
“I will listen to your plan, but you are weak and not yet able to do anything.”
The girl leaped out of the bed, let down her hair and hunted a pair of shears. “Cut off my hair, closely,” she said.
“I fear you are not yet over the fever,” remonstrated Mrs. Rizal.
“I have had no fever,” said the girl, “and I am well. I shall be strong for vengeance and justice. Nay, do not fear, good Mother Rizal, I am sane.”
“You have not told me your plan.”
“Inasmuch as Ambrosia Lonzello has lost all place in society and on earth, she had the fever and is dead. She is merely another victim of the friars. I, who stand before you, am not Ambrosia Lonzello. I am a man, now and henceforth. I feel within me the vigor and courage of manhood, proving the transformation. Henceforth I shall live only for vengeance and to assist Saguanaldo, who had been Ambrosia’s friend. Cut off the hair that belies my sex, and then we all go to the field to give our lives for the cause.”
Mrs. Rizal expostulated, but in vain. She argued asto the girl’s lack of strength, but was actually laughed out of the idea. At last she fell in with the plan, both as being in accord with her own desire and also as being perhaps the only course open to the girl after what had happened.
A few hours afterward, then, the transformation was completed. The girl, with her hair cropped close and wearing a suit that had belonged in days past to Dr. Rizal, looked very much like a vigorous young man, and Mrs. Rizal was gratified to find that she showed no sign of failing physical powers. Indeed, she was to all appearance well again.
“You see, I have merely been transformed into a new creature,” said the youth, smiling and showing two rows of perfect white teeth. “My name is Hilario Agonoy, at your service.” Bowing low.
“When shall we go to the seat of war?”
“Mañana1,” replied the youth, gaily. “Don’t you see that Ambrosia is dead?”
1Mañana—Tomorrow.↑
1Mañana—Tomorrow.↑