As the dismaying predicament seemed beyond solution, Rizal’s nimble brain conceived a cute solution. Appearing perfectly at ease, he turned to the waiter and said, “My dear fellow,” he spoke in French, “don’t you worry.” Pointing to Luna with a flourish of his hand, he said, “Monsieur is quite right. I am the host of this party and I will take care of everything. But first, let my guests complete their meal. We must have black coffee and the best brandy the house can offer. I want the coffee to be freshly brewed. Tell the chef to boil it slowly and nicely. I’ll give him a handsome tip – and to be sure, you will receive a bigger one.


The waiter relieved at the turn of the situation had taken and heartened by the promise of the big tip, went to the restaurant’s kitchen to supervise personally the making of the coffee. The brown gentlemen spoke such excellent French, he surely must be a rich potentiate or Maharajah from the Far East. There was really nothing to fear about the bill, so he mused.


Back at the table, the Filipinos were demanding an explanation. Rizal was silent, his brown eyes twinkling with suppressed amusement. “Now, you’re making it worse,” upbraided the hot-tempered Luna. “You know we all have no money and still you ordered coffee and brandy to say nothing of the big tips you promised the cook and the waiter. Why do you want to disgrace us all? Are you a fool?”


“No,” was Rizal’s laconic answer.


To the great amazement of Luna and the others, Rizal took out from his coat pocket a portable water color set, and serenely began to paint a 10-pound sterling note on the porcelain platter. Dexterously, with a few master strokes he finished an astounding replica of the note before the arrival of the steaming coffee and the brandy.


“My good fellow,” Rizal told the smiling waiter. Pointing to the platter: “There’s the payment for all we have taken. You may keep the change.”


The waiter’s eyes lit up. Bowing low in the best tradition of a French waiter acknowledging an unusually good tip, the waiter was full of effusive thanks. “Monsieur is most generous, Merci!” reaching for the platter he bowed out with many sonorous kiss of his fingertips.


Calmly, Rizal started to sip his coffee and brandy while enjoying the amazement on the faces of his compatriots who all held their breaths while waiting for what inevitably would happen next.


Comprehension Check: What do you suppose happened right after? Will the story have a happy or a sad ending? Make a guess.
i already read the story i just need a great answer