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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Luna Benamor, by Vicente Blasco Ibáńez
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Luna Benamor
+
+Author: Vicente Blasco Ibáńez
+
+Translator: Isaac Goldberg
+
+Release Date: June 19, 2007 [EBook #21870]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LUNA BENAMOR ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chuck Greif
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LUNA BENAMOR
+
+BY
+
+VICENTE BLASCO IBÁŃEZ
+
+TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL SPANISH BY
+
+ISAAC GOLDBERG
+
+JOHN W. LUCE & COMPANY
+
+BOSTON 1919
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+LUNA BENAMOR, A Novel
+
+THE TOAD
+
+COMPASSION
+
+LUXURY
+
+RABIES
+
+THE WINDFALL
+
+THE LAST LION
+
+
+
+
+LUNA BENAMOR
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+LUIS AGUIRRE had been living in Gibraltar for about a month. He had
+arrived with the intention of sailing at once upon a vessel bound for
+Oceanica, where he was to assume his post as a consul to Australia. It
+was the first important voyage of his diplomatic career. Up to that time
+he had served in Madrid, in the offices of the Ministry, or in various
+consulates of southern France, elegant summery places where for half the
+year life was a continuous holiday. The son of a family that had been
+dedicated to diplomacy by tradition, he enjoyed the protection of
+influential persons. His parents were dead, but he was helped by his
+relatives and the prestige of a name that for a century had figured in
+the archives of the nation. Consul at the age of twenty-five, he was
+about to set sail with the illusions of a student who goes out into the
+world for the first time, feeling that all previous trips have been
+insignificant.
+
+Gibraltar, incongruous and exotic, a mixture of races and languages, was
+to him the first sign of the far-off world in quest of which he was
+journeying. He doubted, in his first surprise, if this rocky land
+jutting into the open sea and under a foreign flag, could be a part of
+his native peninsula. When he gazed out from the sides of the cliff
+across the vast blue bay with its rose-colored mountains dotted by the
+bright settlements of La Línea, San Roque and Algeciras,--the cheery
+whiteness of Andalusian towns,--he felt convinced that he was still in
+Spain. But great difference distinguished the human groups camped upon
+the edge of this horseshoe of earth that embraced the bay. From the
+headland of Tarifa to the gates of Gibraltar, a monotonous unity of
+race; the happy warbling of the Andalusian dialect; the broad-brimmed
+hat; the _mantilla_ about the women's bosoms and the glistening hair
+adorned with flowers. On the huge mountain topped by the British flag
+and enclosing the oriental part of the bay, a seething cauldron of
+races, a confusion of tongues, a carnival of costume: Hindus, Mussulmen,
+English, Hebrews, Spanish smugglers, soldiers in red coats, sailors from
+every nation, living within the narrow limits of the fortifications,
+subjected to military discipline, beholding the gates of the
+cosmopolitan sheepfold open with the signal at sunrise and close at the
+booming of the sunset gun. And as the frame of this picture, vibrant
+with its mingling of color and movement, a range of peaks, the highlands
+of Africa, the Moroccan mountains, stretched across the distant horizon,
+on the opposite shore of the strait; here is the most crowded of the
+great marine boulevards, over whose blue highway travel incessantly the
+heavily laden ships of all nationalities and of all flags; black
+transatlantic steamers that plow the main in search of the seaports of
+the poetical Orient, or cut through the Suez Canal and are lost in the
+isle-dotted immensities of the Pacific.
+
+To Aguirre, Gibraltar was a fragment of the distant Orient coming
+forward to meet him; an Asiatic port wrenched from its continent and
+dragged through the waves to run aground on the coast of Europe, as a
+sample of life in remote countries.
+
+He was stopping at a hotel on Royal Street, a thoroughfare that winds
+about the mountain,--that vertebral column of the city to which lead,
+like thin threads, the smaller streets in ascending or descending slope.
+Every morning he was startled from his sleep by the noise of the sunrise
+gun,--a dry, harsh discharge from a modern piece, without the
+reverberating echo of the old cannon. The walls trembled, the floors
+shook, window panes and curtains palpitated, and a few moments later a
+noise was heard in the street, growing gradually louder; it was the
+sound of a hurrying flock, the dragging of thousands of feet, the buzz
+of conversations carried on in a low voice along the closed and silent
+buildings. It was the Spanish day laborers arriving from La Línea ready
+for week at the arsenal; the farmhands from San Roque and Algeciras who
+supplied the people of Gibraltar with vegetables and fruits.
+
+It was still dark. On the coast of Spain perhaps the sky was blue and
+the horizon was beginning to be colored by the rain of gold from the
+glorious birth of the sun. In Gibraltar the sea fogs condensed around
+the heights of the cliff, forming a sort of blackish umbrella that
+covered the city, holding it in a damp penumbra, wetting the streets and
+the roofs with impalpable rain. The inhabitants despaired beneath this
+persistent mist, wrapped about the mountain tops like a mourning hat. It
+seemed like the spirit of Old England that had flown across the seas to
+watch over its conquest; a strip of London fog that had insolently taken
+up its place before the warm coasts of Africa, the very home of the sun.
+
+The morning advanced, and the glorious, unobstructed light of the bay,
+yellow blue, at last succeeded in penetrating the settlement of
+Gibraltar, descending into the very depths of its narrow streets,
+dissolving the fog that had settled upon the trees of the Alameda and
+the foliage of the pines that extended along the coast so as to mask the
+fortifications at the top, drawing forth from the shadows the gray
+masses of the cruisers anchored in the harbor and the black bulk of the
+cannon that formed the shore batteries, filtering into the lugubrious
+embrasures pierced through the cliff, cavernous mouths revealing the
+mysterious defences that had been wrought with mole-like industry in the
+heart of the rock.
+
+When Aguirre went down to the entrance of the hotel, after having given
+up all attempt to sleep during the commotion in the street, the
+thoroughfare was already in the throes of its regular commercial
+hurly-burly, a multitude of people, the inhabitants of the entire town
+plus the crews and the passengers of the vessels anchored in the harbor.
+Aguirre plunged into the bustle of this cosmopolitan population, walking
+from the section of the waterfront to the palace of the governor. He had
+become an Englishman, as he smilingly asserted. With the innate ability
+of the Spaniard to adapt himself to the customs of all foreign countries
+he imitated the manner of the English inhabitants of Gibraltar. He had
+bought himself a pipe, wore a traveling cap, turned up trousers and a
+swagger stick. The day on which he arrived, even before night-fall, they
+already knew throughout Gibraltar who he was and whither he was bound.
+Two days later the shopkeepers greeted him from the doors of their
+shops, and the idlers, gathered on the narrow square before the
+Commercial Exchange, glanced at him with those affable looks that greet
+a stranger in a small city where nobody keeps his secret.
+
+He walked along in the middle of the street, avoiding the light,
+canvas-topped carriages. The tobacco stores flaunted many-colored signs
+with designs that served as the trade-mark of their products. In the
+show windows the packages of tobacco were heaped up like so many bricks,
+and monstrous unsmokable cigars, wrapped in tinfoil as if they were
+sausages, glitteringly displayed their absurd size; through the doors of
+the Hebrew shops, free of any decoration, could be seen the shelves
+laden with rolls of silk and velvet, or the rich silk laces hanging from
+the ceiling. The Hindu bazaars overflowed into the street with their
+exotic, polychrome rarities: clothes embroidered with terror-inspiring
+divinities and chimerical animals; carpets in which the lotus-flower was
+adapted to the strangest designs; kimonos of delicate, indefinable
+tints; porcelain jars with monsters that belched fire; amber-colored
+shawls, as delicate as woven sighs; and in the small windows that had
+been converted into display cases, all the trinkets of the extreme
+Orient, in silver, ivory or ebony; black elephants with white tusks,
+heavy-paunched Buddhas, filigree jewels, mysterious amulets, daggers
+engraved from hilt to point. Alternating with these establishments of a
+free port that lives upon contraband, there were confectioneries owned
+by Jews, cafés and more cafés, some of the Spanish type with round,
+marble-topped tables, the clicking of dominoes, smoke-laden atmosphere
+and high-pitched discussions accompanied by vehement gestures; others
+resembling more the English bar, crowded with motionless, silent
+customers, swallowing one cocktail after another, without any other sign
+of emotion than a growing redness of the nose.
+
+Through the center of the street there passed by, like a masquerade, the
+variety of types and costumes that had surprised Aguirre as a spectacle
+distinct from that furnished by other European cities. There were
+Moroccans, some with a broad, hooded cape, white or black, the cowl
+lowered as if they were friars; others wearing balloon trousers, their
+calves exposed to the air and with no other protection for the feet than
+their loose, yellow slippers; their heads covered by the folds of their
+turbans. They were Moors from Tangier who supplied the place with
+poultry and vegetables, keeping their money in the embroidered leather
+wallets that hung from their girdled waists. The Jews of Morocco,
+dressed in oriental fashion with silk kirtle and an ecclesiastical
+calotte, passed by leaning upon sticks, as if thus dragging along their
+bland, timid obesity. The soldiers of the garrison,--tall, slender,
+rosy-complexioned--made the ground echo with the heavy cadence of their
+boots. Some were dressed in khaki, with the sobriety of the soldier in
+the field; others wore the regular red jacket. White helmets, some lined
+with yellow, alternated with the regulation caps; on the breasts of the
+sergeants shone the red stripe; other soldiers carried in their armpits
+the thin cane that is the emblem of authority. Above the collar of many
+coats rose the extraordinarily thin British neck, high, giraffe-like,
+with a pointed protuberance in front. Soon the further end of the street
+was filled with white; an avalanche of snowy patches seemed to advance
+with rhythmic step. It was the caps of the sailors. The cruisers in the
+Mediterranean had given their men shore leave and the thoroughfare was
+filled with ruddy, cleanshaven boys, with faces bronzed by the sun,
+their chests almost bare within the blue collar, their trousers wide at
+the bottom, swaying from side to side like an elephant's trunk, fellows
+with small heads and childish features, with their huge hands hanging at
+the ends of their arms as if the latter could hardly sustain their heavy
+bulk. The groups from the fleet separated, disappearing into the various
+side streets in search of a tavern. The policeman in the white helmet
+followed with a resigned look, certain that he would have to meet some
+of them later in a tussle, and beg the favor of the king when, at the
+sound of the sunset gun, he would bring them back dead drunk to their
+cruiser.
+
+Mingling with these fighters were gypsies with their loose belts, their
+long staffs and their dark faces; old and repulsive creatures, who no
+sooner stopped before a shop than the owners became uneasy at the
+mysterious hiding-places of their cloaks and skirts; Jews from the city,
+too, with broad frocks and shining silk hats, dressed for the
+celebration of one of their holidays; negroes from the English
+possessions; coppery Hindus with drooping mustache and white trousers,
+so full and short that they looked like aprons; Jewesses from Gibraltar,
+dressed in white with all the correctness of the Englishwomen; old
+Jewesses from Morocco, obese, puffed out, with a many-colored kerchief
+knotted about their temples; black cassocks of Catholic priests, tight
+frocks of Protestant priests, loose gowns of venerable rabbis, bent,
+with flowing beards, exuding grime and sacred wisdom... And all this
+multifarious world was enclosed in the limits of a fortified town,
+speaking many tongues at the same time, passing without any transition
+in the course of the conversation from English to a Spanish pronounced
+with the strong Andalusian accent.
+
+Aguirre wondered at the moving spectacle of Royal Street; at the
+continuously renewed variety of its multitude. On the great boulevards
+of Paris, after sitting in the same café for six days in succession, he
+knew the majority of those who passed by on the sidewalk. They were
+always the same. In Gibraltar, without leaving the restricted area of
+its central street, he experienced surprises every day. The whole
+country seemed to file by between its two rows of houses. Soon the
+street was filled with bearskin caps worn by ruddy, green-eyed,
+flat-nosed persons. It was a Russian invasion. There had just anchored
+in the harbor a transatlantic liner that was bearing this cargo of human
+flesh to America. They scattered throughout the place; they crowded the
+cafés and the shops, and under their invading wave they blotted out the
+normal population of Gibraltar. At two o'clock it had resumed its
+regular aspect and there reappeared the helmets of the police, the
+sailors' caps, the turbans of the Moors, the Jews and the Christians.
+The liner was already at sea after having taken on its supply of coal;
+and thus, in the course of a single day, there succeeded one another the
+rapid and uproarious invasions of all the races of the continent, in
+this city that might be called the gateway of Europe, by the inevitable
+passage through which one part of the world communicates with the Orient
+and the other with the Occident.
+
+As the sun disappeared, the flash of a discharge gleamed from the top of
+the mountain, and the boom of the sunset gun warned strangers without a
+residence permit that it was time to leave the city. The evening patrol
+paraded through the streets, with its military music of fifes and drums
+grouped about the beloved national instrument of the English, the bass
+drum, which was being pounded with both hands by a perspiring athlete,
+whose rolled-up sleeves revealed powerful biceps. Behind marched Saint
+Peter, an official with escort, carrying the keys to the city. Gibraltar
+was now out of communication with the rest of the world; doors and gates
+were closed. Thrust upon itself it turned to its devotions, finding in
+religion an excellent pastime to precede supper and sleep. The Jews
+lighted the lamps of their synagogues and sang to the glory of Jehovah;
+the Catholics counted their rosaries in the Cathedral; from the
+Protestant temple, built in the Moorish style as if it were a mosque,
+rose, like a celestial whispering, the voices of the virgins accompanied
+by the organ; the Mussulmen gathered in the house of their consul to
+whine their interminable and monotonous salutation to Allah. In the
+temperance restaurants, established by Protestant piety for the cure of
+drunkenness, sober soldiers and sailors, drinking lemonade or tea, broke
+forth into harmonious hymns to the glory of the Lord of Israel, who in
+ancient times had guided the Jews through the desert and was now guiding
+old England over the seas, that she might establish her morality and her
+merchandise.
+
+Religion filled the existence of these people, to the point of
+suppressing nationality. Aguirre knew that in Gibraltar he was not a
+Spaniard; he was a Catholic. And the others, for the most part English
+subjects, scarcely recalled this status, designating themselves by the
+name of their creed.
+
+In his walks through Royal Street Aguirre had one stopping place: the
+entrance to a Hindu bazaar ruled over by a Hindu from Madras named
+Khiamull. During the first days of his stay he had bought from the
+shopkeeper various gifts for his first cousins in Madrid, the daughters
+of an old minister plenipotentiary who helped him in his career. Ever
+since then Aguirre would stop for a chat with Khiamull, a shrivelled old
+man, with a greenish tan complexion and mustache of jet black that
+bristled from his lips like the whiskers of a seal. His gentle, watery
+eyes--those of an antelope or of some humble, persecuted beast--seemed
+to caress Aguirre with the softness of velvet. He spoke to the young man
+in Spanish, mixing among his words, which were pronounced with an
+Andalusian accent, a number of rare terms from distant tongues that he
+had picked up in his travels. He had journeyed over half the world for
+the company by whom he was now employed. He spoke of his life at the
+Cape, at Durban, in the Philippines, at Malta, with a weary expression.
+Sometimes he looked young; at others his features contracted with an
+appearance of old age. Those of his race seem to be ageless. He recalled
+his far-off land of the sun, with the melancholy voice of an exile; his
+great sacred river, the flower-crowned Hindu virgins, slender and
+gracefully curved, showing from between the thick jewelled jacket and
+their linen folds a bronze stomach as beautiful as that of a marble
+figure. Ah!... When he would accumulate the price of his return thither,
+he would certainly join his lot to that of a maiden with large eyes and
+a breath of roses, scarcely out of childhood. Meanwhile he lived like an
+ascetic fakir amongst the Westerners, unclean folks with whom he was
+willing to transact business but with whom he avoided all unnecessary
+contact. Ah, to return yonder! Not to die far from the sacred river!...
+And as he expressed his intimate wishes to the inquisitive Spaniard who
+questioned him concerning the distant lands of light and mystery, the
+Hindu coughed painfully, his face becoming darker than ever, as if the
+blood that was circulating beneath the bronze of his skin had turned
+green.
+
+At times Aguirre, as if waking from a dream, would ask himself what he
+was doing there in Gibraltar. Since he had arrived with the intention of
+sailing at once, three large vessels had passed the strait bound for the
+Oceanic lands. And he had allowed them to sail on, pretending not to
+know of their presence, never being able to learn the exact conditions
+of his voyage, writing to Madrid, to his influential uncle, letters in
+which he spoke of vague ailments that for the moment delayed his
+departure. Why?... Why?...
+
+Upon arising, the day following his arrival at Gibraltar, Aguirre looked
+through the window curtains of his room with all the curiosity of a
+newcomer. The heavens were clouded; it was an October sky; but it was
+warm,--a muggy, humid warmth that betrayed the proximity of the African
+coast.
+
+Upon the flat roof of a neighboring house he noticed a strange
+construction,--a large arbor made of woven reeds and thatched with green
+branches. Within this fragile abode, he was able to make out through its
+bright curtains a long table, chairs, and an old-fashioned lamp hanging
+from the top... What a queer whim of these people who, having a house,
+chose to live upon the roof!
+
+A hotel attendant, while he put Aguirre's room in order, answered all
+his inquiries. The Jews of Gibraltar were celebrating a holiday, the
+Feast of Tabernacles, one of the most important observances of the year.
+It was in memory of the long wandering of the Israelites through the
+desert. In commemoration of their sufferings the Jews were supposed to
+eat in the open air, in a tabernacle that resembled the tents and huts
+of their forefathers. The more fanatic of them, those most attached to
+ancient customs, ate standing, with a staff in their hands, as if ready
+to resume their journey after the last mouthful. The Hebrew merchants of
+the central street erected their structures on the roof; those of the
+poor quarters built theirs in a yard or corral, wherever they could
+catch a glimpse of the open sky. Those who, because of their extreme
+poverty, lived in a shanty, were invited to dine in company with the
+more fortunate, with that fraternity of a race compelled by hatred and
+persecution to preserve a firm solidarity.
+
+The tabernacle Aguirre saw was that of old Aboab and his son, brokers
+who kept their establishment on the selfsame Royal Street, just a few
+doors below. And the servant pronounced the name Aboab (father and son)
+with that mingling of superstitious awe and hatred which is inspired in
+the poor by wealth that is considered unjustly held. All Gibraltar knew
+them; it was the same in Tangier, and the same in Rabat and Casablanca.
+Hadn't the gentleman heard of them? The son directed the business of the
+house, but the father still took part, presiding over all with his
+venerable presence and that authority of old age which is so infallible
+and sacred among Hebrew families.
+
+"If you could only see the old man!" added the attendant, with his
+Andalusian accent. "A white beard that reaches down to his waist, and if
+you'd put it into hot water it would yield more than a pitcherful of
+grease. He's almost as greasy as the grand Rabbi, who's the bishop among
+them.... But he has lots of money. Gold ounces by the fistful, pounds
+sterling by the shovel; and if you'd see the hole he has in the street
+for his business you'd be amazed. A mere poor man's kitchen. It seems
+impossible that he can store so much there!"
+
+After breakfast, when Aguirre went back to his room in search of his
+pipe, he saw that the Aboab tabernacle was occupied by the whole family.
+At the back, which was in semi-obscurity, he seemed to make out a white
+head presiding over the table and on each side elbows leaning upon the
+tablecloth, and the skirts and trousers of persons who were for the most
+part invisible.
+
+Two women came out on the roof; they were both young, and after glancing
+for a moment at the inquisitive fellow in the hotel window, turned their
+gaze in a different direction, as if they had not noticed him. To
+Aguirre these Aboab daughters were not very impressive, and he wondered
+whether the much vaunted beauty of Jewesses was but another of the many
+lies admitted by custom, consecrated by time and accepted without
+investigation. They had large eyes, of bovine beauty; moist and dilated,
+but with the addition of thick, prominent eyebrows, as black and
+continuous as daubs of ink. Their nostrils were wide and the beginnings
+of obesity already threatened to submerge their youthful slenderness in
+corpulence.
+
+They were followed by another woman, doubtless the mother, who was so
+fat that her flesh shook as she moved. Her eyes, too, were attractive,
+but were spoiled by the ugly eyebrows. Her nose, her lower lip and the
+flesh of her neck hung loosely; in her there was already completed the
+fatal maturity which was beginning to appear in her daughters. All three
+possessed the yellowish pallor characteristic of Oriental races. Their
+thick lips, faintly blue, revealed something of the African element
+grafted upon their Asiatic origin.
+
+"Hola! What's this!" murmured Aguirre with a start.
+
+A fourth woman had come out from the depths of the tabernacle. She must
+be English; the Spaniard was certain of this. Yes, she was an English
+brunette, with a bluish cast to her dark skin and a slim, athletic
+figure whose every movement was graceful. A creole from the colonies,
+perhaps, born of some Oriental beauty and a British soldier.
+
+She looked without any bashfulness toward the window of the hotel,
+examining the Spaniard with the leisurely glance of a bold boy, meeting
+the shock of his eyes without flinching. Then she wheeled about on her
+heel as if beginning a dancing figure, turned her back to the Spaniard
+and leaned against the shoulders of the two other young ladies,
+thrusting them aside and taking pleasure, to the accompaniment of loud
+outbursts of laughter, in pushing their unwieldy persons with her
+vigorous, boyish arms.
+
+When all the women returned to the interior of the tabernacle, Aguirre
+abandoned his lookout, more and more convinced of the exactness of his
+observations. Decidedly, she was not a Jewess. And the better to
+convince himself, he talked at the door with the manager of the hotel,
+who knew all Gibraltar. After a few words this man guessed to whom
+Aguirre was referring.
+
+"That's Luna... Lunita Benamor, old Aboab's granddaughter. What a girl,
+eh? The belle of Gibraltar! And rich! Her dowry is at least one hundred
+thousand _duros_."
+
+A Jewess!... She was a Jewess! From that time Aguirre began to meet Luna
+frequently in the narrow limits of a city where people could hardly move
+without encountering one another. He saw her on the roof of her house;
+he came across her on Royal Street as she entered her grandfather's
+place; he followed her, sometimes in the vicinity of the Puerta del Mar
+and at others from the extreme end of the town, near the Alameda. She
+was usually unaccompanied, like all the young ladies of Gibraltar, who
+are brought up in conformity with English customs. Besides, the town was
+in a manner a common dwelling in which all knew one another and where
+woman ran no risk.
+
+Whenever Aguirre met her they would exchange casual glances, but with
+the expression of persons who have seen each other very often. The
+consul still experienced the astonishment of a Spaniard influenced by
+centuries of prejudice. A Jewess! He would never have believed that the
+race could produce such a woman. Her outward appearance, correct and
+elegant as that of an Englishwoman, gave no other indication of her
+foreign origin than a marked predilection for silk clothes of bright
+hues, especially strawberry color, and a fondness for sparkling jewelry.
+With the gorgeousness of an American who pays no attention to hours, she
+would go out early in the morning with a thick necklace of pearls
+hanging upon her bosom and two flashing pendants in her ears. A picture
+hat with costly plumes, imported from London, concealed the ebony beauty
+of her hair.
+
+Aguirre had acquaintances in Gibraltar, idlers, whom he had met in the
+cafés, young, obsequious, courteous Israelites who received this
+Castilian official with ancestral deference, questioning him about
+affairs of Spain as if that were a remote country.
+
+Whenever passed by them during her constant walks along Royal
+Street,--taken with no other purpose than to kill time--they spoke of
+her with respect. "More than a hundred thousand _duros_." Everybody knew
+the amount of the dowry. And they acquainted the consul with the
+existence of a certain Israelite who was the girl's affianced husband.
+He was now in America to complete his fortune. He was rich, but a Jew
+must labor to add to the legacy of his fathers. The families had
+arranged the union without even consulting them, when she was twelve
+years old and he already a man corrupted by frequent changes of
+residence and traveling adventures. Luna had been waiting already ten
+years for the return of her fiancé from Buenos Aires, without the
+slightest impatience, like the other maidens of her race, certain that
+everything would take its regular course at the appointed hour.
+
+"These Jewish girls," said a friend of Aguirre, "are never in a hurry.
+They're accustomed to biding their time. Just see how their fathers have
+been awaiting the Messiah for thousands of years without growing tired."
+
+One morning, when the Feast of Tabernacles had ended and the Jewish
+population of the town returned to its normal pursuits, Aguirre entered
+the establishment of the Aboabs under the pretext of changing a quantity
+of money into tender of English denomination. It was a rectangular room
+without any other light than that which came in through the doorway, its
+walls kalsomined and with a wainscoting of white, glazed tiles. A small
+counter divided the shop, leaving a space for the public near the
+entrance and reserving the rest of the place for the owners and a large
+iron safe. Near the door a wooden charity-box, inscribed in Hebrew,
+awaited the donations of the faithful for the philanthropic activities
+of the community. The Jewish customers, in their dealings with the
+house, deposited there the extra _centimos_ of their transactions.
+Behind the counter were the Aboabs, father and son. The patriarch,
+Samuel Aboab, was very aged and of a greasy corpulence. As he sat there
+in his armchair his stomach, hard and soft at the same time, had risen
+to his chest. His shaven upper lip was somewhat sunken through lack of
+teeth; his patriarchal beard, silver white and somewhat yellow at the
+roots, fell in matted locks, with the majesty of the prophets. Old age
+imparted to his voice a whimpering quaver, and to his eyes a tearful
+tenderness. The least emotion brought tears; every word seemed to stir
+touching recollections. Tears and tears oozed from his eyes, even when
+he was silent, as if they were fountains whence escaped the grief of an
+entire people, persecuted and cursed through centuries upon centuries.
+
+His son Zabulon was already old, but a certain black aspect lingered
+about him, imparting an appearance of virile youth. His eyes were dark,
+sweet and humble, but with an occasional flash that revealed a fanatic
+soul, a faith as firm as that of ancient Jerusalem's people, ever ready
+to stone or crucify the new prophets; his beard, too, was black and firm
+as that of a Maccabean warrior; black, also, was his curly hair, which
+looked like an astrakhan cap. Zabulon figured as one of the most active
+and respected members of the Jewish community,--an individual
+indispensable to all beneficent works, a loud singer in the synagogue
+and a great friend of the Rabbi, whom he called "our spiritual chief,"
+an assiduous attendant at all homes where a fellow-religionist lay
+suffering, ready to accompany with his prayers the gasps of the dying
+man and afterwards lave the corpse according to custom with a profusion
+of water that ran in a stream into the street. On Saturdays and special
+holidays Zabulon would leave his house for the synagogue, soberly
+arrayed in his frock and his gloves, wearing a silk hat and escorted by
+three poor co-religionists who lived upon the crumbs of his business and
+were for these occasions dressed in a style no less sober and fitting
+than that of their protector.
+
+"All hands on deck!" the wits of Royal Street would cry. "Make way, for
+here comes a cruiser with four smokestacks!"
+
+And the four smokestacks of well brushed silk sailed between the groups,
+bound for the synagogue, looking now to this side and now to that so as
+to see whether any wicked Hebrew was lounging about the streets instead
+of attending synagogue; this would afterwards be reported to the
+"spiritual head."
+
+Aguirre, who was surprised at the poverty of the establishment, which
+resembled a kitchen, was even more surprised at the facility with which
+money rolled across the narrow counter. The packets of silver pieces
+were quickly opened, passing rapidly through the shaggy, expert hands of
+Zabulon; the pounds fairly sang, as they struck the wood, with the merry
+ring of gold; the bank-notes, folded like unstitched folios, flashed for
+a moment before concealing the colors of their nationality in the safe:
+the simple, monotonous white of the English paper, the soft blue of the
+Bank of France, the green and red mixture of the Spanish Bank. All the
+Jews of Gibraltar flocked hither, with that same commercial solidarity
+which leads them to patronize only establishments owned by members of
+their race; Zabulon, all by himself, without the aid of clerks, and
+without allowing his father (the venerable fetich of the family's
+fortune) to leave his seat, directed this dance of money, conducting it
+from the hands of the public to the depths of the iron safe, or fetching
+it forth to spread it, with a certain sadness, upon the counter. The
+ridiculous little room seemed to grow in size and acquire beauty at the
+sound of the sonorous names that issued from the lips of the banker and
+his customers. London! Paris! Vienna!... The house of Aboab had branches
+everywhere. Its name and its influence extended not only to the famous
+world centers, but even to the humblest corners, wherever one of their
+race existed. Rabat, Casablanca, Larache, Tafilete, Fez, were African
+towns into which the great banks of Europe could penetrate only with the
+aid of these auxiliaries, bearing an almost famous name yet living very
+poorly.
+
+Zabulon, as he changed Aguirre's money, greeted him as if he were a
+friend. In that city every one knew every body else within twenty-four
+hours.
+
+Old Aboab pulled himself together in his chair, peering out of his weak
+eyes with a certain surprise at not being able to recognize this
+customer among his habitual visitors.
+
+"It's the consul, father," said Zabulon, without raising his glance from
+the money that he was counting, guessing the reason for the movement of
+the old man behind him. "The Spanish consul who stops at the hotel
+opposite our house."
+
+The patriarch seemed to be impressed and raised his hand to his hat with
+humble courtesy.
+
+"Ah! The consul! The worthy consul!" he exclaimed, emphasizing the title
+as a token of his great respect for all the powers of the earth. "Highly
+honored by your visit, worthy consul."
+
+And believing that he owed his visitor renewed expressions of flattery,
+he added with tearful sighs, imparting to his words a telegraphic
+conciseness, "Ah, Spain! Beautiful land, excellent country, nation of
+gentlemen!... My forefathers came from there, from a place called
+Espinosa de los Monteros."
+
+His voice quivered, pained by recollections, and afterwards, as if he
+had in memory advanced to recent times, he added, "Ah! Castelar!...
+Castelar, a friend of the Jews, and he defended them. Of the _judeos_,
+as they say there!"
+
+His flood of tears, ill restrained up to that moment, could no longer be
+held back, and at this grateful recollection it gushed from his eyes,
+inundating his beard.
+
+"Spain! Beautiful country!" sighed the old man, deeply moved.
+
+And he recalled everything that in the past of his race and his family
+had united his people with that country. An Aboab had been chief
+treasurer of the King of Castile; another had been a wonderful
+physician, enjoying the intimacy of bishops and cardinals. The Jews of
+Portugal and of Spain had been great personages,--the aristocracy of the
+race. Scattered now over Morocco and Turkey, they shunned all
+intercourse with the coarse, wretched Israelite population of Russia and
+Germany. They still recited certain prayers, in the synagogue, in old
+Castilian, and the Jews of London repeated them by heart without knowing
+either their origin or their meaning, as if they were prayers in a
+language of sacred mystery. He himself, when he prayed at the synagogue
+for the King of England, imploring for him an abundance of health and
+prosperity even as Jews the world over did for the ruler of whatever
+country they happened to inhabit, added mentally an entreaty to the Lord
+for the good fortune of beautiful Spain.
+
+Zabulon, despite his respect for his father, interrupted him brusquely,
+as if he were an imprudent child. In his eyes there glowed the harsh
+expression of the impassioned zealot.
+
+"Father, remember what they did to us. How they cast us out... how they
+robbed us. Remember our brothers who were burned alive."
+
+"That's true, that's true," groaned the patriarch, shedding new tears
+into a broad handkerchief with which he wiped his eyes. "It's true....
+But in that beautiful country there still remains something that is
+ours. The bones of our ancestors."
+
+When Aguirre left, the old man showered him with tokens of extreme
+courtesy. He and his son were at the consul's service. And the consul
+returned almost every morning to chat with the patriarch, while Zabulon
+attended to the customers and counted money.
+
+Samuel Aboab spoke of Spain with tearful delight, as of a marvelous
+country whose entrance was guarded by terrible monsters with fiery
+swords. Did they still recall the _judeos_ there? And despite Aguirre's
+assurances, he refused to believe that they were no longer called thus
+in Spain. It grieved the old man to die before beholding Espinosa de los
+Monteros; a beautiful city, without a doubt. Perhaps they still
+preserved there the memory of the illustrious Aboabs.
+
+The Spaniard smilingly urged him to undertake the journey. Why did he
+not go there?...
+
+"Go! Go to Spain!..." The old man huddled together like a timorous snail
+before the idea of this journey.
+
+"There are still laws against the poor _judeos_. The decree of the
+Catholic Kings. Let them first repeal it!... Let them first call us
+back!"
+
+Aguirre laughed at his listener's fears. Bah! The Catholic Kings! Much
+they counted for now!... Who remembered those good gentlemen?
+
+But the old man persisted in his fears. He had suffered much. The terror
+of the expulsion was still in his bones and in his blood, after four
+centuries. In summer, when the heat forced them to abandon the torrid
+rock, and the Aboab family hired a little cottage on the seashore, in
+Spanish territory just beyond La Línea, the patriarch dwelt in constant
+restlessness, as if he divined mysterious perils in the very soil upon
+which he trod. Who could tell what might happen during the night? Who
+could assure him that he would not awake in chains, ready to be led like
+a beast to a port? This is what had happened to his Spanish ancestors,
+who had been forced to take refuge in Morocco, whence a branch of the
+family had moved to Gibraltar when the English took possession of the
+place.
+
+Aguirre poked mild fun at the childish fears of the aged fellow,
+whereupon Zabulon intervened with his darkly energetic authority.
+
+"My father knows what he is talking about. We will never go; we can't
+go. In Spain the old customs always return; the old is converted into
+the new. There is no security; woman has too much power and interferes
+in matters that she does not understand."
+
+Woman! Zabulon spoke scornfully of the sex. They should be treated as
+the Jews treated them. The Jews taught them nothing more than the amount
+of religion necessary to follow the rites. The presence of women in the
+synagogue was in many instances not obligatory. Even when they came,
+they were confined to the top of a gallery, like spectators of the
+lowest rank. No. Religion was man's business, and the countries in which
+woman has a part in it cannot offer security.
+
+Then the unsympathetic Israelite spoke enthusiastically of the "greatest
+man in the world," Baron Rothschild, lord over kings and
+governments--taking care never to omit the title of baron every time he
+pronounced the name--and he finally named all the great Jewish centers,
+which were ever increasing in size and population.
+
+"We are everywhere," he asserted, blinking maliciously. "Now we are
+spreading over America. Governments change, peoples spread over the face
+of the earth, but we are ever the same. Not without reason do we await
+the Messiah. He will come, some day."
+
+On one of his morning visits to the ill appointed bank Aguirre was
+introduced to Zabulon's two daughters,--Sol and Estrella,--and to his
+wife, Thamar. On another morning Aguirre experienced a tremor of emotion
+upon hearing behind him the rustle of silks and noticing that the light
+from the entrance was obscured by the figure of a person whose identity
+his nerves had divined. It was Luna, who had come, with all the interest
+that Hebrew women feel for their domestic affairs, to deliver an order
+to her uncle. The old man grasped her hands across the counter,
+caressing them tremblingly.
+
+"This is my granddaughter, sir consul, my granddaughter Luna. Her father
+is dead, and my daughter too. She comes from Morocco. No one loves the
+poor girl as much as her grandfather does."
+
+And the patriarch burst into tears, moved by his own words.
+
+Aguirre left the shop with triumphant joy. They had spoken to each
+other; now they were acquainted. The moment he met her upon the street
+he would cling to her, taking advantage of some blessed customs that
+seemed to have been made for lovers.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+NEITHER could tell how, after several ordinary meetings, their friendly
+confidence grew, or which had been the first word to reveal the mystery
+of their thoughts.
+
+They saw each other mornings when Aguirre would go to his window. The
+Feast of Tabernacles had come to an end, and the Aboabs had taken down
+the religious structure, but Luna continued to go to the roof under
+various pretexts, so that she might exchange a glance, a smile, a
+gesture of greeting with the Spaniard. They did not converse from these
+heights through fear of the neighbors, but afterwards they met in the
+street, and Luis, after a respectful salute, would join the young lady,
+and they would walk along as companions, like other couples they met on
+their way. All were known to one another in that town. Only by this
+knowledge could married couples be distinguished from simple friends.
+
+Luna visited various shops on errands for the Aboabs, like a good Jewess
+who is interested in all the family affairs. At other times she wandered
+aimlessly through Royal Street, or walked in the direction of the
+Alameda, explaining the landmarks of the city to Aguirre at her side. In
+the midst of these walks she would stop at the brokers' shop to greet
+the patriarch, who smiled childishly as he contemplated the youthful and
+beautiful couple.
+
+"Seńor consul, seńor consul," said Samuel one day, "I brought from my
+house this morning the family papers, for you to read. Not all of them.
+There are too many altogether! We Aboabs are very old; I wish to prove
+to the consul that we are _judeos_ of Spain, and that we still remember
+the beautiful land."
+
+And from underneath the counter he drew forth divers rolls of parchment
+covered with Hebrew characters. They were matrimonial documents, acts of
+union of the Aboabs with certain families of the Israelite community. At
+the head of all these documents figured on one side the coat of arms of
+England and on the other that of Spain, in bright colors and gold
+borders.
+
+"We are English," declared the patriarch. "May the Lord preserve our
+king and send him much happiness; but we are Spaniards historically:
+Castilians, that is... Castilians."
+
+He selected from the parchments one that was cleaner and fresher than
+the others, and bent over it his white, wavy beard and his tearful eyes.
+
+"This is the wedding contract of Benamor with my poor daughter: Luna's
+parents. You can't understand it, for it's in Hebrew characters, but the
+language is Castilian, pure Castilian, as it was spoken by our
+ancestors."
+
+And slowly, in an infantile voice, as if he relished the obsolete forms
+of the words, he read the terms of the contract that united the parties
+"in the custom of Old Castile." Then he enumerated the conditions of the
+marriage, the penalties either of the contracting parties might incur if
+the union were dissolved through his or her fault.
+
+"'Such party will pay,'" mumbled the patriarch, "'will pay... so many
+silver ounces.' Are there still silver ounces in Castile, seńor
+consul?"...
+
+Luna, in her conversations with Aguirre, demonstrated an interest as
+keen as that of her old grandfather in the beautiful land, the far-off,
+remote, mysterious land,--in spite of the fact that its boundary was
+situated but a few steps away, at the very gates of Gibraltar. All she
+knew of it was a little fisherman's hamlet, beyond La Línea, whither she
+had gone with her family on their summer vacations.
+
+"Cadiz! Seville! How enchanting they must be!... I can picture them to
+myself: I have often beheld them in my dreams, and I really believe that
+if I ever saw them they wouldn't surprise me in the least.... Seville!
+Tell me, Don Luis, is it true that sweethearts converse there through a
+grating? And is it certain that the maidens are serenaded with a guitar,
+and the young men throw their capes before them as a carpet over which
+to pass? And isn't it false that men slay one another for them?... How
+charming! Don't deny all this. It's all so beautiful!..."
+
+Then she would summon to memory all her recollections of that land of
+miracles, of that country of legends, in which her forebears had dwelt.
+When she was a child her grandmother, Samuel Aboab's wife, would lull
+her to sleep reciting to her in a mysterious voice the prodigious events
+that always had Castile as their background and always began the same:
+"Once upon a time there was a king of Toledo who fell in love with a
+beautiful and charming Jewess named Rachel...."
+
+"Toledo!"... As she uttered this name Luna rolled her eyes as in the
+vagueness of a dream. The Spanish capital of Israel! The second
+Jerusalem! Her noble ancestors, the treasurer of the king and the
+miraculous physician, had dwelt there!
+
+"You must have seen Toledo, Don Luis. You surely have been there. How I
+envy you!... Very beautiful, isn't it? Vast! Enormous!... Like
+London?... Like Paris? Of course not.... But certainly far larger than
+Madrid."
+
+And carried away by the enthusiasm of her illusions she forgot all
+discretion, questioning Luis about his past. Indubitably he was of the
+nobility: his very bearing revealed that. From the very first day she
+had seen him, upon learning his name and his nationality, she had
+guessed that he was of high origin. A hidalgo such as she had imagined
+every man from Spain to be, with something Semitic in his face and in
+his eyes, but more proud, with an air of hauteur that was incapable of
+supporting humiliations and servility. Perhaps he had a uniform for
+festive occasions, a suit of bright colors, braided with gold... and a
+sword, a sword!
+
+Her eyes shone with admiration in the presence of this hidalgo from the
+land of knights who was dressed as plainly as a shopkeeper of Gibraltar,
+yet who could transform himself into a glorious insect of brilliant
+hues, armed with a mortal sting. And Aguirre did not disturb her
+illusions, answering affirmatively, with all the simplicity of a hero.
+Yes; he had a golden costume, that of the consul. He possessed a sword,
+which went with his uniform, and which had never been unsheathed.
+
+One sunny morning the pair, quite unconsciously, took the path to the
+Alameda. She made anxious inquiries about Aguirre's past, with
+indiscreet curiosity, as always happens between persons who feel
+themselves attracted to each other by a budding affection. Where had he
+been born? How had he spent his childhood? Had he loved many women?...
+
+They passed beneath the arches of an old gate that dated back to the
+time of the Spanish possession, and which still preserved the eagles and
+the shields of the Austrian dynasty. In the old moat, now converted into
+a garden, there was a group of tombs,--those of the English sailors who
+had died at Trafalgar. They walked along an avenue in which the trees
+alternated with heaps of old bombs and cone-shaped projectiles, reddened
+by rust. Further on, the large cannon craned their necks toward the gray
+cruisers of the military harbor and the extensive bay, over whose blue
+plain, tremulous with gold, glided the white dots of some sailing
+vessels.
+
+On the broad esplanade of the Alameda, at the foot of the mountain
+covered with pines and cottages, were groups of youths running and
+kicking a restless ball around. At that hour, as at every hour of the
+day, the huge ball of the English national game sped through the air
+over paths, fields and garrison yards. A concert of shouts and kicks,
+civil as well as military, rose into the air, to the glory of strong and
+hygienic England.
+
+They mounted a long stairway, afterwards seeking rest in a shady little
+square, near the monument to a British hero, the defender of Gibraltar,
+surrounded by mortars and cannon. Luna, gazing across the blue sea that
+could be viewed through the colonnade of trees, at last spoke of her own
+past.
+
+Her childhood had been sad. Born in Rabat, where the Jew Benamor was
+engaged in the exportation of Moroccan cloths, her life had flowed on
+monotonously, without any emotion other than that of fear. The Europeans
+of this African port were common folk, who had come thither to make
+their fortune. The Moors hated the Jews. The rich Hebrew families had to
+hold themselves apart, nourishing themselves socially upon their own
+substance, ever on the defensive in a country that lacked laws. The
+young Jewish maidens were given an excellent education, which they
+acquired with the facility of their race in adopting all progress. They
+astonished newcomers to Rabat with their hats and their clothes, similar
+to those of Paris and London; they played the piano; they spoke various
+languages, and yet, on certain nights of sleeplessness and terror, their
+parents dressed them in foul tatters and disguised them, staining their
+faces and their hands with moist ashes and lampblack, so that they might
+not appear to be Jewish daughters and should rather resemble slaves.
+There were nights in which an uprising of the Moors was feared, an
+invasion of the near-by Kabyles, excited in their fanaticism by the
+inroads of European culture. The Moroccans burned the houses of the
+Jews, plundered their treasures, fell like wild beasts upon the white
+women of the infidels, decapitating them with hellish sadism after
+subjecting them to atrocious outrages. Ah! Those childhood nights in
+which she dozed standing, dressed like a beggar girl, since the
+innocence of her tender age was of no avail as a protection!... Perhaps
+it was these frights that were responsible for her dangerous
+illness,--an illness that had brought her near to death, and to this
+circumstance she owed her name Luna.
+
+"At my birth I was named Horabuena, and a younger sister of mine
+received the name Asibuena. After a period of terror and an invasion of
+the Moroccans in which our house was burned down and we thought we were
+all doomed to slaughter, my sister and I fell ill with fever. Asibuena
+died; happily, I was saved."
+
+And she described to Luis, who listened to her under a spell of horror,
+the incidents of this exotic, abnormal life,--all the sufferings of her
+mother in the poor house where they had taken refuge. Aboab's daughter
+screamed with grief and tore her black hair before the bed where her
+daughter lay overcome by the stupor of fever. Her poor Horabuena was
+going to die.
+
+"Ay, my daughter! My treasure Horabuena, my sparkling diamond, my nest
+of consolation!... No more will you eat the tender chicken! No more will
+you wear your neat slippers on Saturdays, nor will your mother smile
+with pride when the Rabbi beholds you so graceful and beautiful!..."
+
+The poor woman paced about the room lighted by a shaded lamp. In the
+shadows she could detect the presence of the hated _Huerco_, the demon,
+with a Spanish name who comes at the appointed hour to bear off human
+creatures to the darkness of death. She must battle against the evil
+one, must deceive the _Huerco_, who was savage yet stupid, just as her
+forefathers had deceived him many a time:
+
+She repressed her tears and sighs, calmed her voice, and stretching out
+upon the floor spoke softly, with a sweet accent, as if she were
+receiving an important visit:
+
+"_Huerco_, what have you come for?... Are you looking for Horabuena?
+Horabuena is not here; she has gone forever. She who is here is named...
+Luna. Sweet Lunita, beautiful Lunita. Off with you, _Huerco_, begone!
+She whom you seek is not here."
+
+For some time she was calm, then her returning fears made her speak
+again to her importunate, lugubrious guest. There he was again! She
+could feel his presence.
+
+"_Huerco_, I tell you you're mistaken! Horabuena is gone; look for her
+elsewhere. Only Luna is here. Sweet Lunita, precious Lunita."
+
+And so great was her insistence that at last she succeeded in deceiving
+_Huerco_ with her entreating, humble voice, although it is true that, to
+give an air of truth to the deceit, on the following day, at a synagogue
+ceremony, the name of Horabuena was changed to that of Luna.
+
+Aguirre listened to these revelations with the same interest as that
+with which he would read a novel about a far-off, exotic land that he
+was never to behold.
+
+It was on this same morning that the consul revealed the proposal which
+for several days he had guarded in his thoughts, afraid to express it.
+Why not love each other? Why not be sweethearts? There was something
+providential about the way the two had met; they should not fail to take
+advantage of the fate which had brought them together. To have become
+acquainted! To have met, despite the difference of countries and of
+races!...
+
+Luna protested, but her protest was a smiling one. What madness!
+Sweethearts? Why? They could not marry; they were of different faiths.
+Besides, he had to leave. But Aguirre interrupted resolutely:
+
+"Don't reason. Just close your eyes. In love there should be no
+reflection. Good sense and the conventionalities are for persons who
+don't love each other. Say yes, and afterwards time and our good luck
+will arrange everything."
+
+Luna laughed, amused by Aguirre's grave countenance and the vehemence of
+his speech.
+
+"Sweethearts in the Spanish fashion?... Believe me, I am tempted to
+assent. You will go off and forget me, just as you've doubtless
+forgotten others; and I'll be left cherishing the remembrance of you.
+Excellent. We'll see each other every day and will chat about our
+affairs. Serenades are not possible here, nor can you place your cape at
+my feet without being considered crazy. But that doesn't matter. We'll
+be sweethearts; I should love to see what it's like."
+
+She laughed as she spoke, with her eyes closed, just like a child to
+whom a pleasant game has been proposed. Soon she opened her eyes wide,
+as if something forgotten had reawakened in her with a painful pressure.
+She was pale. Aguirre could guess what she was trying to say. She was
+about to tell him of her previous betrothal, of that Jewish fiancé who
+was in America and might return. But after a brief pause of indecision
+she returned to her former attitude, without breaking the silence. Luis
+was grateful to her for this. She desired to conceal her past, as do all
+women in the first moment of love.
+
+"Agreed. We'll be sweethearts. Let's see, consul. Say pretty things to
+me, of the sort that you folks say in Spain when you come to the
+grating."
+
+That morning Luna returned to her house somewhat late for the lunch
+hour. The family was awaiting her impatiently. Zabulon looked at his
+niece with a stern glance. Her cousins Sol and Estrella alluded to the
+Spaniard in a jesting manner. The patriarch's eyes grew moist as he
+spoke of Spain and its consul.
+
+Meanwhile the latter had stopped at the door of the Hindu bazaar to
+exchange a few words with Khiamull. He felt the necessity of sharing his
+brimming happiness with another. The Hindu was greener than ever. He
+coughed frequently and his smile, which resembled that of a bronze
+child, was really a dolorous grimace.
+
+"Khiamull, long live love! Believe me, for I know much about life. You
+are sickly and some day you'll die, without beholding the sacred river
+of your native land. What you need is a companion, a girl from
+Gibraltar... or rather, from La Línea; a half gypsy, with her cloak,
+pinks in her hair and alluring manners. Am I not right, Khiamull?..."
+
+The Hindu smiled with a certain scorn, shaking his head. No. Every one
+to his own. He was of his race and lived in voluntary solitude among the
+whites. Man can do nothing against the sympathies and aversions of the
+blood. Brahma, who was the sum of divine wisdom, separated all creatures
+into castes.
+
+"But, man!... friend Khiamull! It seems to me that a girl of the kind
+I've mentioned is by no means to be despised...."
+
+The Hindu smiled once more at the speaker's ignorance. Every race has
+its own tastes and its sense of smell. To Aguirre, who was a good
+fellow, he would dare to reveal a terrible secret. Did he see those
+whites, the Europeans, so content with their cleanliness and their
+baths?... They were all impure, polluted by a natural stench which it
+was impossible for them to wipe out. The son of the land of the lotus
+and the sacred clay was forced to make an effort in order to endure
+contact with them... They all smelled of raw meat.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+IT was a winter afternoon; the sky was overcast and the air was gray,
+but it was not cold. Luna and the Spaniard were walking slowly along the
+road that leads to Europa Point, which is the extreme end of the
+peninsula of Gibraltar. They had left behind them the Alameda and the
+banks of the Arsenal, passing through leafy gardens, along reddish
+villas inhabited by officers of army and navy, huge hospitals resembling
+small towns, and garrisons that seemed like convents, with numerous
+galleries in which swarms of children were scurrying about; here, too,
+clothes and tableware were being washed and cleaned by the soldiers'
+wives--courageous wanderers over the globe, as much at home in the
+garrisons of India as in those of Canada. The fog concealed from view
+the coast of Africa, lending to the Strait the appearance of a shoreless
+sea. Before the pair of lovers stretched the dark waters of the bay, and
+the promontory of Tarifa revealed its black outline faintly in the fog,
+resembling a fabulous rhinoceros bearing upon its snout, like a horn,
+the tower of the lighthouse. Through the ashen-gray clouds there
+penetrated a timid sunbeam,--a triangle of misty light, similar to the
+luminous stream from a magic lantern,--which traced a large shaft of
+pale gold across the green-black surface of the sea. In the center of
+this circle of anemic light there floated, like a dying swan, the white
+spot of a sailboat.
+
+The two lovers were oblivious to their surroundings. They walked along,
+engrossed in that amorous egotism which concentrates all life in a
+glance, or in the delicate contact of the bodies meeting and grazing
+each other at every step. Of all Nature there existed for them only the
+dying light of the afternoon, which permitted them to behold each other,
+and the rather warm breeze which, murmuring among the cacti and the
+palms, seemed to serve as the musical accompaniment to their
+conversation. At their right rumbled the far-off roar of the sea
+striking against the rocks. On their left reigned pastoral peace,--the
+melodious calm of the pines, broken from time to time only by the noise
+of the carts, which, followed by a platoon of soldiers in their shirt
+sleeves, wheeled up the roads of the mountain.
+
+The two looked at each other with caressing eyes, smiling with the
+automatism of love; but in reality they were sad, with that sweet
+sadness which in itself constitutes a new voluptuousness. Luna,
+influenced by the positivism of her race, was gazing into the future,
+while Aguirre was content with the present moment, not caring to know
+what would be the end of this love. Why trouble oneself imagining
+obstacles!...
+
+"I'm not like you, Luna. I have confidence in our lot. We'll marry and
+travel about the world. Don't let that frighten you. Remember how I came
+to know you. It was during the Feast of Tabernacles; you were eating
+almost on foot, like those gypsies that wander over the earth and resume
+their journey at the end of their meal. You come from a race of nomads
+which even today roams the world. I arrived just in time. We'll leave
+together; for I, too, am, because of my career, a wanderer. Always
+together! We will be able to find happiness in any land whatsoever.
+We'll carry springtime with us, the happiness of life, and will love
+each other deeply."
+
+Luna, flattered by the vehemence of these words, nevertheless contracted
+her features into an expression of sadness.
+
+"Child!" she murmured, with her Andalusian accent. "What sweet
+illusions... my precious consul! But only illusions, after all. How are
+we to marry? How can this be arranged?... Are you going to become a
+convert to my religion?"
+
+Aguirre started with surprise and looked at Luna with eyes that betrayed
+his amazement.
+
+"Man alive! I, turn Jew?..."
+
+He was no model of pious enthusiasm. He had passed his days without
+paying much attention to religion. He knew that the world contained many
+creeds, but without doubt, as far as he was concerned, decent persons
+the world over were all Catholics. Besides, his influential uncle had
+warned him not to jest with these matters under penalty of hampering
+advancement in his career.
+
+"No. No, I don't see the necessity of that.... But there must be some
+way of getting over the difficulty. I can't say what it is, but there
+surely must be one. At Paris I met very distinguished gentlemen who were
+married to women of your race. This can all be arranged. I assure you
+that it shall be. I have an idea! Tomorrow morning, if you wish, I'll go
+to see the chief Rabbi, your 'spiritual head,' as you call him. He seems
+to be a fine fellow; I've seen him several times upon the street; a well
+of wisdom, as your kind say. A pity that he goes about so unclean,
+smelling of rancid sanctity!... Now don't make such a wry face. It's a
+matter of minor importance! A little bit of soap can set it aright....
+There, there, don't get angry. The gentleman really pleases me a great
+deal, with his little white goatee and his wee voice that seems to come
+from the other world!... I tell you I'm going to see him and say, 'Seńor
+Rabbi, Luna and I adore each other and wish to many; not like the Jews,
+by contract and with the right to change their minds, but for all our
+life, for centuries and centuries. Bind us from head to foot, so that
+there'll be none in heaven or on earth that can separate us. I can't
+change my religion because that would be base, but I swear to you, by
+all my faith as a Christian, that Luna will be more cared for, pampered
+and adored than if I were Methuselah, King David, the prophet Habakkuk
+or any other of the gallants that figure in the Scriptures.'"
+
+"Silence, you scamp!" interrupted the Jewess with superstitious anxiety,
+raising one hand to his lips to prevent him from continuing. "Seal your
+lips, sinner!"
+
+"Very well. I'll be silent, but it must be agreed that we'll settle this
+one way or another. Do you believe it possible for any one to sever us
+after such a serious love affair... and such a long one?"
+
+"Such a long one!" repeated Luna like an echo, imparting a grave
+expression to his words.
+
+Aguirre, in his silence, seemed to be given over to a difficult mental
+calculation.
+
+"At least a month long!" he said at last, as if in wonder at the length
+of time that had flown by.
+
+"No, not a month," protested Luna. "More, much more!"
+
+He resumed his meditation.
+
+"Positively; more than a month. Thirty-eight days, counting today....
+And seeing each other every day! And falling deeper and deeper in love
+each day!..."
+
+They walked along in silence, their gaze lowered, as if overwhelmed by
+the great age of their love. Thirty-eight days!... Aguirre recalled a
+letter that he had received the day before, bristling with surprise and
+indignation. He had been in Gibraltar already two months without sailing
+for Oceanica. What sort of illness was this? If he did not care to
+assume his post, he ought to return to Madrid. The instability of his
+present position and the necessity of solving this passion which little
+by little had taken possession of him came to his thoughts with
+agonizing urgency.
+
+Luna strolled on, her eyes upon the ground, moving her fingers as if
+counting.
+
+"Yes, that's it. Thirty-eight.... Exactly! It seems impossible that you
+could have loved me for so long. Me! An old woman!"
+
+And in response to Aguirre's bewildered glance she added, sadly, "You
+already know. I don't hide it.... Twenty-two years old. Many of my race
+marry at fourteen."
+
+Her resignation was sincere; it was the resignation of the Oriental
+woman, accustomed to behold youth only in the bud of adolescence.
+
+"Often I find it impossible to explain your love for me. I feel so proud
+of you!... My cousins, to vex me, try to find defects in you, and
+can't!... No, they can't! The other day you passed by my house and I was
+behind the window-blinds with Miriam, who was my nurse; she's a Jewess
+from Morocco, one of those who wear kerchiefs and wrappers. 'Look,
+Miriam, at that handsome chap, who belongs to our neighborhood.' Miriam
+looked. 'A Jew? No. That can't be. He walks erect, with a firm step, and
+our men walk haltingly, with their legs doubled as if they were about to
+kneel. He has teeth like a wolf and eyes like daggers. He doesn't lower
+his head nor his gaze.' And that's how you are. Miriam was right. You
+stand out from among all the young men of my blood. Not that they lack
+courage; there are some as strong as the Maccabees; Massena, Napoleon's
+companion, was one of us, but the natural attitude of them all, before
+they are transformed by anger, is one of humility and submission. We
+have been persecuted so much!... You have grown up in a different
+environment."
+
+Afterwards the young woman seemed to regret her words. She was a bad
+Jewess; she scarcely had any faith in her beliefs and in her people; she
+went to the synagogue only on the Day of Atonement and on the occasion
+of other solemn, unavoidable ceremonies.
+
+"I believe that I've been waiting for you forever. Now I am sure that I
+knew you long before seeing you. When I saw you for the first time, on
+that day during the Feast of the Tabernacles, I felt that something
+grave and decisive had occurred in my life. When I learned who you were,
+I became your slave and hungered anxiously for your first word."
+
+Ah, Spain!... She was like old Aboab; her thoughts had often flown to
+the beautiful land of her forefathers, wrapped in mystery. At times she
+recalled it only to hate it, as one hates a beloved person, for his
+betrayals and his cruelties, without ceasing to love him. At others, she
+called to mind with delight the tales she had heard from her
+grandmother's lips, the songs with which she had been lulled to sleep as
+a child,--all the legends of the old Castilian land, abode of treasures,
+enchantments and love affairs, comparable only to the Bagdad of the
+Arabs, to the wonderful city of the thousand and one nights. Upon
+holidays, when the Jews remained secluded in the bosom of the family,
+old Aboab or Miriam, her nurse, had many a time beguiled her with
+ancient ballads in the manner of old Castile, that had been transmitted
+from generation to generation; stories of love affairs between arrogant,
+knightly Christians and beautiful Jewesses with fair complexions, large
+eyes and thick, ebony tresses, just like the holy beauties of the
+Scriptures.
+
+    En la ciudad de Toledo,
+    en la ciudad de Granada,
+    hay un garrido mancebo
+    que Diego León se llama.
+    Namorose de Thamar,
+    que era hebrea castellana....
+
+(In the city of Toledo, in the city of Granada, there is a handsome
+youth called Diego Leon. He fell in love with Tamar, who was a Spanish
+Jewess....)
+
+There still echoed in her memory fragments of these ancient chronicles
+that had brought many a tremor to her dreamy childhood. She desired to
+be Tamar; she would have waited years and years for the handsome youth,
+who would be as brave and arrogant as Judas Maccabeus himself, the Cid
+of the Jews, the lion of Judea, the lion of lions; and now her hopes
+were being fulfilled, and her hero had appeared at last, coming out of
+the land of mystery, with his conqueror's stride, his haughty head, his
+dagger eyes, as Miriam said. How proud it made her feel! And
+instinctively, as if she feared that the apparition would vanish, she
+slipped her hand about Aguirre's arm, leaning against him with caressing
+humility.
+
+They had reached Europa Point, the outermost lighthouse of the
+promontory. On an esplanade surrounded by military buildings there was a
+group of ruddy young men, their khaki trousers held in place by leather
+braces and their arms bare, kicking and driving a huge ball about. They
+were soldiers. They stopped their game for a moment to let the couple
+pass. There was not a single glance for Luna from this group of strong,
+clean-living youths, who had been trained to a cold sexuality by
+physical fatigue and the cult of brawn.
+
+As they turned a corner of the promontory they continued their walk on
+the eastern side of the cliff. This part was unoccupied; here tempests
+and the raging winds from the Levant came to vent their fury. On this
+side were no other fortifications than those of the summit, almost
+hidden by the clouds which, coming from the sea, encountered the
+gigantic rampart of rock and scaled the peaks as if assaulting them.
+
+The road, hewn out of the rough declivity, meandered through gardens
+wild with African exuberance. The pear trees extended, like green
+fences, their serried rows of prickle-laden leaves; the century-plants
+opened like a profusion of bayonets, blackish or salmon-red in color;
+the old agaves shot their stalks into the air straight as masts, which
+were topped by extended branches that gave them the appearance of
+telegraph poles. In the midst of this wild vegetation arose the lonely
+summer residence of the governor. Beyond was solitude, silence,
+interrupted only by the roar of the sea as it disappeared into invisible
+caves.
+
+Soon the two lovers noticed, at a great distance, signs of motion amidst
+the vegetation of the slope. The stones rolled down as if some one were
+pushing them under his heel; the wild plants bent under an impulse of
+flight, and shrill sounds, as if coming from a child being maltreated,
+rent the air. Aguirre, concentrating his attention, thought he saw some
+gray forms jumping amid the dark verdure.
+
+"Those are the monkeys of the Rock," said Luna calmly, as she had seen
+them many times.
+
+At the end of the path was the famous Cave of the Monkeys. Now Aguirre
+could see them plainly, and they looked like agile, shaggy-haired
+bundles jumping from rock to rock, sending the loose pebbles rolling
+from under their hands and feet and showing, as they fled, the inflamed
+protuberances under their stiff tails.
+
+Before coming up to the Cave of the Monkeys the two lovers paused. The
+end of the road was in sight a little further along abruptly cut off by
+a precipitous projection of the rock. At the other side, invisible, was
+the bay of the Catalanes with its town of fisherfolk,--the only
+dependency of Gibraltar. The cliff, in this solitude, acquired a savage
+grandeur. Human beings were as nothing; natural forces here had free
+range, with all their impetuous majesty. From the road could be seen the
+sea far, far below. The boats, diminished by the distance, seemed like
+black insects with antennae of smoke, or white butterflies with their
+wings spread. The waves seemed only light curls on the immense blue
+plain.
+
+Aguirre wished to go down and contemplate at closer range the gigantic
+wall which the sea beat against. A rough, rocky path led, in a straight
+line, to an entrance hewn out of the stone, backed by a ruined wall, a
+hemispherical sentry-box and several shanties whose roofs had been
+carried off by the tempests. These were the débris of old
+fortifications,--perhaps dating back to the time in which the Spaniards
+had tried to reconquer the place.
+
+As Luna descended, with uncertain step, supported by her lover's hand
+and scattering pebbles at every turn, the melodious silence of the sea
+was broken by a reverberating _raack!_ as if a hundred fans had been
+brusquely opened. For a few seconds everything vanished from before
+their eyes; the blue waters, the red crags, the foam of the
+breakers,--under a flying cloud of grayish white that spread out at
+their feet. This was formed by hundreds of sea-gulls who had been
+frightened from their place of refuge and were taking to flight; there
+were old, huge gulls, as fat as hens, young gulls, as white and graceful
+as doves. They flew off uttering shrill cries, and as this cloud of
+fluttering wings dissolved, there came into view with all its grandeur,
+the promontory and the deep waters that beat against it in ceaseless
+undulation.
+
+It was necessary to raise one's head and to lift one's eyes to behold in
+all its height this fortress of Nature, sheer, gray, without any sign of
+human presence other than the flagstaff visible at the summit, as small
+as a toy. Over all the extensive face of this enormous cliff there was
+no other projection than several masses of dark vegetation, clumps
+suspended from the rock. Below, the waves receded and advanced, like
+blue bulls that retreat a few paces so as to attack with all the greater
+force; as an evidence of this continuous assault, which had been going
+on for centuries and centuries, there were the crevices opened in the
+rock, the mouths of the caves, gates of ghostly suggestion and mystery
+through which the waves plunged with terror-inspiring roar. The débris
+of these openings, the fragments of the ageless assaults,--loosened
+crags, piled up by the tempests,--formed a chain of reefs between whose
+teeth the sea combed its foamy hair or raged with livid frothing on
+stormy days.
+
+The lovers remained seated among the old fortifications, beholding at
+their feet the blue immensity and before their eyes the seemingly
+interminable wall that barred from sight a great part of the horizon.
+Perhaps on the other side of the cliff the gold of the sunset was still
+shining. On this side already the shades of night were gently falling.
+The sweethearts were silent, overwhelmed by the silence of the spot,
+united to each other by an impulse of fear, crushed by their
+insignificance in the midst of this annihilating vastness, even as two
+Egyptian ants in the shadow of the Great Pyramid.
+
+Aguirre felt the necessity of saying something, and his voice took on a
+grave character, as if in those surroundings, impregnated with the
+majesty of Nature, it was impossible to speak otherwise.
+
+"I love you," he began, with the incongruity of one who passes without
+transition from long meditation to the spoken word. "I love you, for you
+are of my race and yet you are not; because you speak my language and
+yet your blood is not my blood. You possess the grace and beauty of the
+Spanish woman, yet there is something more in you,--something exotic,
+that speaks to me of distant lands, of poetic things, of unknown
+perfumes that I seem to smell whenever I am near you.... And you, Luna.
+Why do you love me?"
+
+"I love you," she replied, after a long silence, her voice solemn and
+veiled like that of an emotional soprano, "I love you because you, too,
+have something in your face that resembles those of my race, and yet you
+are as distinct from them as is the servant from the master. I love
+you... I don't know why. In me there dwells the soul of the ancient
+Jewesses of the desert, who went to the well in the oasis with their
+hair let down and their pitchers on their heads. Then came the Gentile
+stranger, with his camels, begging water; she looked at him with her
+solemn, deep eyes, and as she poured the water in between her white
+hands she gave him her heart, her whole soul, and followed him like a
+slave.... Your people killed and robbed mine; for centuries my
+forefathers wept in strange lands the loss of their new Zion, their
+beautiful land, their nest of consolation. I ought to hate you, but I
+love you; I am yours and will follow you wherever you go." The blue
+shadows of the promontory became deeper. It was almost night. The
+sea-gulls, shrieking, retired to their hiding-places in the rocks. The
+sea commenced to disappear beneath a thin mist. The lighthouse of Europe
+shone like a diamond from afar in the heavens above the Strait, which
+were still clear. A sweet somnolence seemed to arise from the dying day,
+enveloping all Nature. The two human atoms, lost in this immensity, felt
+themselves invaded by the universal tremor, oblivious to all that but a
+short time before had constituted their lives. They forgot the presence
+of the city on the other side of the mountain; the existence of
+humanity, of which they were infinitesimal parts.... Completely alone,
+penetrating each other through their pupils! Thus, thus forever! There
+was a crackling sound in the dark, like dry branches creaking before
+they break.
+
+All at once a red flash sped through the air,--something straight and
+rapid as the flight of a fiery bird. Then the mountain trembled and the
+sea echoed under a dry thunder. The sunset gun!... A timely boom.
+
+The two shuddered as though just awakening from a dream. Luna, as if in
+flight, ran down the path in search of the main road, without listening
+to Aguirre.... She was going to get home late; she would never visit
+that spot again. It was dangerous.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+THE consul wandered through Royal Street, his pipe out, his glance sad
+and his cane hanging from his arm. He was depressed. When, during his
+walking back and forth he stopped instinctively before Khiamull's shop,
+he had to pass on. Khiamull was not there. Behind the counter were only
+two clerks, as greenish in complexion as their employer. His poor friend
+was in the hospital, in the hope that a few days of rest away from the
+damp gloom of the shop would be sufficient to relieve him of the cough
+that seemed to unhinge his body and make him throw up blood. He came
+from the land of the sun and needed its divine caress.
+
+Aguirre might have stopped at the Aboabs' establishment, but he was
+somewhat afraid. The old man whimpered with emotion, as usual, when he
+spoke to the consul, but in his kindly, patriarchal gestures there was
+something new that seemed to repel the Spaniard. Zabulon received him
+with a grunt and would continue counting money.
+
+For four days Aguirre had not seen Luna. The hours that he spent at his
+window, vainly watching the house of the Aboabs! Nobody on the roof;
+nobody behind the blinds, as if the house were unoccupied. Several times
+he encountered on the street the wife and daughters of Zabulon, but they
+passed him by pretending not to see him, solemn and haughty in their
+imposing obesity.
+
+Luna was no more to be seen than as if she had left Gibraltar. One
+morning he thought he recognized her delicate hand opening the blinds;
+he imagined that he could distinguish, through the green strips of
+wood, the ebony crown of her hair, and her luminous eyes raised toward
+him. But it was a fleeting apparition that lasted only a second. When he
+tried to make a gesture of entreaty, when he moved his arms imploring
+her to wait, Luna had already disappeared.
+
+How was he to approach her, breaking through the guarded aloofness in
+which Jewish families dwell? To whom was he to go for an explanation of
+this unexpected change?... Braving the icy reception with which the
+Aboabs greeted him, he entered their place under various pretexts. The
+proprietors received him with frigid politeness, as if he were an
+unwelcome customer. The Jews who came in on business eyed him with
+insolent curiosity, as if but a short time before they had been
+discussing him.
+
+One morning he saw, engaged in conversation with Zabulon, a man of about
+forty, of short stature, somewhat round shouldered with spectacles. He
+wore a high silk hat, a loose coat and a large golden chain across his
+waistcoat. In a somewhat sing-song voice he was speaking of the
+greatness of Buenos Aires, of the future that awaited those of his race
+in that city, of the good business he had done. The affectionate
+attention with which the old man and his son listened to the man
+suggested a thought to Aguirre that sent all the blood to his heart, at
+the same time producing a chill in the rest of his body. He shuddered
+with surprise. Could it be _he_?... And after a few seconds,
+instinctively, without any solid grounds, he himself gave the answer.
+Yes; it was he; there had been no mistake. Without a doubt he beheld
+before him Luna's promised husband, who had just returned from South
+America. And if he still had any doubts as to the correctness of his
+conjecture, he was strengthened in his belief by a rapid glance from the
+man,--a cold, scornful look that was cast upon him furtively, while the
+looker continued to speak with his relatives.
+
+That night he saw him again on Royal Street. He saw him, but not alone.
+He was arm in arm with Luna, who was dressed in black; Luna, who leaned
+upon him as if he were already her husband; the two walked along with
+all the freedom of Jewish engaged couples. She did not see Aguirre or
+did not wish to see him. As she passed him by she turned her head,
+pretending to be engrossed in conversation with her companion.
+
+Aguirre's friends, who were gathered in a group on the sidewalk before
+the Exchange, laughed at the meeting, with the light-heartedness of
+persons who look upon love only as a pastime.
+
+"Friend," said one of them to the Spaniard, "they've stolen her away
+from you. The Jew's carrying her off.... It couldn't have been
+otherwise. They marry only among themselves... and that girl has lots of
+money."
+
+Aguirre did not sleep a wink that night; he lay awake planning the most
+horrible deeds of vengeance. In any other country he knew what he would
+do; he would insult the Jew, slap him, fight a duel, kill him; and if
+the man did not respond to such provocation, he would pursue him until
+he left the field free.... But he lived here in another world; a country
+that was ignorant of the knightly procedure of ancient peoples. A
+challenge to a duel would cause laughter, like something silly and
+extravagant. He could, of course, attack his enemy right in the street,
+bring him to his knees and kill him if he tried to defend himself. But
+ah! English justice did not recognize love nor did it accept the
+existence of crimes of passion. Yonder, half way up the slope of the
+mountain, in the ruins of the castle that had been occupied by the
+Moorish kings of Gibraltar, he had seen the prison, filled with men from
+all lands, especially Spaniards, incarcerated for life because they had
+drawn the poniard under the impulse of love or jealousy, just as they
+were accustomed to doing a few metres further on, at the other side of
+the boundary. The whip worked with the authorization of the law; men
+languished and died turning the wheel of the pump. A cold, methodical
+cruelty, a thousand times worse than the fanatic savagery of the
+Inquisition, devoured human creatures, giving them nothing more than the
+exact amount of sustenance necessary to prolong their torture.... No.
+This was another world, where his jealousy and his fury could find no
+vent. And he would have to lose Luna without a cry of protest, without a
+gesture of manly rebellion!...Now, upon beholding himself parted from
+her, he felt for the first time the genuine importance of his love; a
+love that had been begun as a pastime, through an exotic curiosity, and
+which was surely going to upset his entire existence... What was he to
+do?
+
+He recalled the words of one of those inhabitants of Gibraltar who had
+accompanied him on Royal Street,--a strange mixture of Andalusian
+sluggishness and British apathy.
+
+"Take my word for it, friend, the chief Rabbi and those of the synagogue
+have a hand in this. You were scandalizing them; everybody saw you
+making love in public. You don't realize how important one of these
+fellows is. They enter the homes of the faithful and run everything,
+giving out orders that nobody dares to disobey."
+
+The following day Aguirre did not leave his street, and either walked up
+and down in front of the Aboabs' house or stood motionless at the
+entrance to his hotel, without losing sight for a moment of Luna's
+dwelling. Perhaps she would come out! After the meeting of the previous
+day she must have lost her fear. They must have a talk. Here it was
+three months since he had come to Gibraltar, forgetting his career, in
+danger of ruining it, abusing the influence of his relatives. And was he
+going to leave that woman without exchanging a final word, without
+knowing the cause for the sudden overturn?...
+
+Toward night-fall Aguirre experienced a strange shudder of emotion,
+similar to that which he had felt in the brokers' shop upon beholding
+the Jew that had just returned from South America. A woman came out of
+the Aboabs' house; she was dressed in black. It was Luna, just as he had
+seen her the day before.
+
+She turned her head slowly and Aguirre understood that she had seen
+him,--that perhaps she had been watching him for a long time hidden
+behind the blinds. She began to walk hastily, without turning her head,
+and Aguirre followed her at a certain distance, on the opposite
+sidewalk, jostling through the groups of Spanish workmen who, with their
+bundles in their hands, were returning from the Arsenal to the town of
+La Línea, before the sunset gun should sound and the place be closed.
+Thus he shadowed her along Royal Street, and as she arrived at the
+Exchange, Luna continued by way of Church Street, passing by the
+Catholic Cathedral. Here there were less people about and the shops were
+fewer; except at the corners of the lanes where there were small groups
+of men that had formed on coming from work. Aguirre quickened his gait
+so as to catch up with Luna, while she, as if she had guessed his
+intention, slackened her step. As they reached the rear of the
+Protestant church, near the opening called Cathedral Square, the two
+met.
+
+"Luna! Luna!..."
+
+She turned her glance upon Aguirre, and then instinctively they made for
+the end of the square, fleeing from the publicity of the street. They
+came to the Moorish arcades of the evangelist temple, whose colors were
+beginning to grow pale, vanishing into the shade of dusk. Before either
+of them could utter a word they were enveloped in a wave of soft
+melody,--music that seemed to come from afar, stray chords from the
+organ, the voices of virgins and children who were chanting in English
+with bird-like notes the glory of the Lord.
+
+Aguirre was at a loss for words. All his angry thoughts were forgotten.
+He felt like crying, like kneeling and begging something of that God,
+whoever He might be, who was at the other side of the walls, lulled by
+the hymn from the throat of the mystic birds with firm and virginal
+voices:
+
+"Luna!... Luna!"
+
+He could say nothing else, but the Jewess, stronger than he and less
+sensitive to that music which was not hers, spoke to him in a low and
+hurried voice. She had stolen out just to see him; she must talk with
+him, say good-bye. It was the last time they would meet.
+
+Aguirre heard her without fully understanding her words. All his
+attention was concentrated upon her eyes, as if the five days in which
+they had not met were the same as a long voyage, and as if he were
+seeking in Luna's countenance some effect of the extended lapse of time
+that had intervened. Was she the same?... Yes it was she. But her lips
+were somewhat pale with emotion; she pressed her lids tightly together
+as if every word cost her a prodigious effort, as if every one of them
+tore out part of her soul. Her lashes, as they met, revealed in the
+corner of her eyes lines that seemed to indicate fatigue, recent tears,
+sudden age.
+
+The Spaniard was at last able to understand what she was saying. But was
+it all true?... To part! Why? Why?... And as he stretched his arms out
+to her in the vehemence of his entreaty Luna became paler still,
+huddling together timidly, her eyes dilated with fear.
+
+It was impossible for their love to continue. She must look upon all the
+past as a beautiful dream; perhaps the best of her life... but the
+moment of waking had come. She was marrying, thus fulfilling her duty
+toward her family and her race. The past had been a wild escapade, a
+childish flight of her exalted and romantic nature. The wise men of her
+people had clearly pointed out to her the dangerous consequences of such
+frivolity. She must follow her destiny and be as her mother had
+been,--like all the women of her blood. Upon the following day she was
+going to Tangier with her promised husband, Isaac Nuńez. He himself and
+her relatives had counselled her to have one last interview with the
+Spaniard, so as to put an end to an equivocal situation that might
+compromise the honor of a good merchant and destroy the tranquility of a
+peaceful man. They would marry at Tangier, where her fiancé's family
+lived; perhaps they would remain there; perhaps they would journey to
+South America and resume business there. At any rate, their love, their
+sweet adventure, their divine dream, was ended forever.
+
+"Forever!" murmured Luis in a muffled voice. "Say it again. I hear it
+from your lips, yet I can't believe my ears. Say it once more. I wish to
+make sure."
+
+His voice was filled with supplication but at the same time his clenched
+hand and his threatening glance terrified Luna, who opened her eyes wide
+and pressed her lips tightly together, as if restraining a sob. The
+Jewess seemed to grow old in the shadows.
+
+The fiery bird of twilight flashed through the air with its fluttering
+of red wings. Closely following came a thunderclap that made the houses
+and ground tremble.... The sunset gun! Aguirre, in his agony, could see
+in his mind's eye a high wall of crags, flying gulls, the foamy, roaring
+sea, a misty evening light, the same as that which now enveloped them.
+
+"Do you remember, Luna? Do you remember?"...
+
+The roll of drums sounded from a near-by street, accompanied by the
+shrill notes of the fife and the deep boom of the bass drum, drowning
+with its belligerent sound the mystic, ethereal chants that seemed to
+filter through the walls of the temple. It was the evening patrol on its
+way to close the gates of the town. The soldiers, clad in uniforms of
+greyish yellow, marched by, in time with the tune from their
+instruments, while above their cloth helmets waved the arms of the
+gymnast who was deafening the street with his blows upon the drum head.
+
+The two waited for the noisy patrol to pass. As the soldiers disappeared
+in the distance the melodies from the celestial choir inside the church
+returned slowly to the ears of the listeners.
+
+The Spaniard was abject, imploring, passing from his threatening
+attitude to one of humble supplication.
+
+"Luna... Lunita! What you say is not true. It cannot be. To separate
+like this? Don't listen to any of them. Follow the dictates of your
+heart. There is still a chance for us to be happy. Instead of going off
+with that man whom you do not love, whom you surely cannot love, flee
+with me."
+
+"No," she replied firmly, closing her eyes as though she feared to
+weaken if she looked at him. "No. That is impossible. Your God is not my
+God. Your people, not my people."
+
+In the Catholic Cathedral, near by, but out of sight, the bell rang with
+a slow, infinitely melancholy reverberation. Within the Protestant
+Church the choir of virgins was beginning a new hymn, like a flock of
+joyous birds winging about the organ. Afar, gradually becoming fainter
+and fainter and losing itself in the streets that were covered by the
+shadows of night, sounded the thunder of the patrol and the playful
+lisping of the fifes, hymning the universal power of England to the tune
+of circus music.
+
+"Your God! Your people!" exclaimed the Spaniard sadly. "Here, where
+there are so many Gods! Here, where everybody is of your people!...
+Forget all that. We are all equals in life. There is only one truth:
+Love."
+
+"Ding, dong!" groaned the bell aloft in the Catholic Cathedral, weeping
+the death of day. "Lead Kindly Light!" sang the voices of the virgins
+and the children in the Protestant temple, resounding through the
+twilight silence of the square.
+
+"No," answered Luna harshly, with an expression that Aguirre had never
+seen in her before; she seemed to be another woman. "No. You have a
+land, you have a nation, and you may well laugh at races and religions,
+placing love above them. We, on the other hand, wherever we may be born,
+and however much the laws may proclaim us the equals of others, are
+always called Jews, and Jews we must remain, whether we will or no. Our
+land, our nation, our only banner, is the religion of our ancestors. And
+you ask me to desert it,--to abandon my people?... Sheer madness!"
+
+Aguirre listened to her in amazement.
+
+"Luna, I don't recognize you.... Luna, Lunita, you are another woman
+altogether.... Do you know what I'm thinking of at this moment? I'm
+thinking of your mother, whom I did not know."
+
+He recalled those nights of cruel uncertainty, when Luna's mother tore
+her jet-black hair before the bed in which her child lay gasping; how
+she tried to deceive the demon, the hated _Huerco_, who came to rob her
+of her beloved daughter.
+
+"Ah! I, too, Luna, feel the simple faith of your mother,--her innocent
+credulity. Love and despair simplify our souls and remove from them the
+proud tinsel with which we clothe them in moments of happiness and
+pride; love and despair render us by their mystery, timid and
+respectful, like the simplest of creatures. I feel what your poor mother
+felt during those nights. I shudder at the presence of the _Huerco_ in
+our midst. Perhaps it's that old fellow with the goat's whiskers who is
+at the head of your people here; all of you are a materialistic sort,
+without imagination, incapable of knowing true love; it seems impossible
+that you can be one of them.... You, Luna! You! Don't laugh at what I
+say. But I feel a strong desire to kneel down here before you, to
+stretch out upon the ground and cry: '_Huerco_, what do you wish? Have
+you come to carry off my Luna?... Luna is not here. She has gone
+forever. This woman here is my beloved, my wife. She has no name yet,
+but I'll give her one.' And to seize you in my arms, as your mother did,
+to defend you against the black demon, and then to see you saved, and
+mine forever; to confirm your new name with my caresses, and to call
+you... my Only One, yes, my Only One. Do you like the name?... Let our
+lives be lived together, with the whole world as our home."
+
+She shook her head sadly. Very beautiful. One dream more. A few days
+earlier these words would have moved her and would have made her weep.
+But now!... And with cruel insistence she repeated "No, no. My God is
+not your God. My race is not your race. Why should we persist in
+attempting the impossible?..."
+
+When her people had spoken indignantly about the love affair that was
+being bruited all about town; when the spiritual head of her community
+came to her with the ire of an ancient prophet; when accident, or
+perhaps the warning of a fellow Jew, had brought about the return of her
+betrothed, Isaac Nuńez, Luna felt awaking within her something that had
+up to that time lain dormant. The dregs of old beliefs, hatreds and
+hopes were stirred in the very depths of her thought, changing her
+affections and imposing new duties. She was a Jewess and would remain
+faithful to her race. She would not go to lose herself in barren
+isolation among strange persons who hated the Jew through inherited
+instinct. Among her own kind she would enjoy the influence of the wife
+that is listened to in all family councils, and when she would become
+old, her children would surround her with a religious veneration. She
+did not feel strong enough to suffer the hatred and suspicion of that
+hostile world into which love was trying to drag her,--a world that had
+presented her people only with tortures and indignities. She wished to
+be loyal to her race, to continue the defensive march that her nation
+was realizing across centuries of persecution.
+
+Soon she was inspired with compassion at the dejection of her former
+sweetheart, and she spoke to him more gently. She could no longer feign
+calmness or indifference. Did he think that she could ever forget him?
+Ah! Those days had been the sweetest in all her existence; the romance
+of her life, the blue flower that all women, even the most ordinary,
+carry within their memories like a breath of poesy.
+
+"Do you imagine that I don't know what my lot is going to be like?...
+You were the unexpected, the sweet disturbance that beautifies life, the
+happiness of love which finds joy in all that surrounds it and never
+gives thought to the morrow. You are a man that stands out from all the
+rest; I know that. I'll many, I'll have many children,--many!--for our
+race is inexhaustible, and at night my husband will talk to me for hour
+after hour about what we earned during the day. You... you are
+different. Perhaps I would have had to suffer, to be on my guard lest
+I'd lose you, but with all that you are happiness, you are illusion."
+
+"Yes, I am all that," said Aguirre "I am all that because I love you....
+Do you realize what you are doing, Luna? It is as if they laid thousands
+and thousands of silver pounds upon the counter before Zabulon, and he
+turned his back upon them, scorning them and preferring the synagogue.
+Do you believe such a thing possible?... Very well, then. Love is a
+fortune. It is like beauty, riches, power; all who are born have a
+chance of acquiring one of these boons, but very few actually attain to
+them. All live and die believing that they have known love, thinking it
+a common thing, because they confuse it with animal satisfaction; but
+love is a privilege, love is a lottery of fate, like wealth, like
+beauty, which only a small minority enjoy.... And when love comes more
+than half way to meet you, Luna, Lunita,--when fate places happiness
+right in your hands, you turn your back upon it and walk off!...
+Consider it well! There is yet time! Today, as I walked along Royal
+Street I saw the ship notices. Tomorrow there's a boat sailing for Port
+Said. Courage! Let us flee!... We'll wait there for a boat to take us to
+Australia."
+
+Luna raised her head proudly. Farewell to her look of compassion!
+Farewell to the melancholy mood in which she had listened to the
+youth!... Her eyes shone with a steely glance; her voice was cruel and
+concise.
+
+"Goodnight!"
+
+And she turned her back upon him, beginning to walk as if taking flight.
+Aguirre hastened after her, soon reaching her side.
+
+"And that's how you leave me!" he exclaimed. "Like this, never to meet
+again... Can a love that was our very life end in such a manner?..."
+
+The hymn had ceased in the evangelical temple; the Catholic bell was
+silent; the military music had died out at the other end of the town. A
+painful silence enveloped the two lovers. To Aguirre it seemed as if the
+world were deserted, as if the light had died forever, and that in the
+midst of the chaos and the eternal darkness he and she were the only
+living creatures.
+
+"At least give me your hand; let me feel it in mine for the last
+time.... Don't you care to?"
+
+She seemed to hesitate, but finally extended her right hand. How
+lifeless it was! How icy!
+
+"Good-bye, Luis," she said curtly, turning her eyes away so as not to
+see him.
+
+She spoke more, however. She felt that impulse of giving consolation
+which animates all women at times of great grief. He must not despair.
+Life held sweet hopes in store for him. He was going to see the world;
+he was still young....
+
+Aguirre spoke from between clenched teeth, to himself, as if he had gone
+mad. Young! As if grief paid attention to ages! A week before he had
+been thirty years old; now he felt as old as the world.
+
+Luna made an effort to release herself, trembling for herself, uncertain
+of her will power.
+
+"Good-bye! Good-bye!"
+
+This time she really departed, and he allowed her to leave, lacking the
+strength with which to follow her.
+
+Aguirre passed a sleepless night, seated at the edge of his bed, gazing
+with stupid fixity at the designs upon the wall-paper. To think that
+this could have happened! And he, no stronger than a mere child, had
+permitted her to leave him forever!... Several times he was surprised to
+catch himself speaking aloud.
+
+"No. No. It cannot be.... It _shall_ not be!"
+
+The light went out, of its own accord, and Aguirre continued to
+soliloquize, without knowing what he was saying. "It shall not be! It
+shall not be!" he murmured emphatically. But passing from rage to
+despair he asked himself what he could do to retain her, to end his
+torture.
+
+Nothing! His misfortune was irreparable. They were going to resume the
+course of their lives, each on a different road; they were going to
+embark on the following day, each to an opposite pole of the earth, and
+each would carry away nothing of the other, save a memory; and this
+memory, under the tooth of time, would become ever smaller, more
+fragile, more delicate. And this was the end of such a great love! This
+was the finale of a passion that had been born to fill an entire
+existence! And the earth did not tremble, and nobody was moved, and the
+world ignored this great sorrow, even as it would ignore the misfortunes
+of a pair of ants. Ah! Misery!...
+
+He would roam about the world carrying his recollections with him, and
+perhaps some day he would come to forget them, for one can live only by
+forgetting; but when his grief should dissolve with the years he would
+be left an empty man, like a smiling automaton, incapable of any
+affections other than material ones. And thus he would go on living
+until he should grow old and die. And she, the beautiful creature, who
+seemed to scatter music and incense at every step,--the incomparable
+one, the only one,--would likewise grow old, far from his side. She
+would be one more Jewish wife, an excellent mother of a family, grown
+stout from domestic life, flabby and shapeless from the productivity of
+her race, with a brood of children about her, preoccupied at all hours
+with the earnings of the family, a full moon, cumbrous, yellow, without
+the slightest resemblance to the springtime star that had illuminated
+the fleeting and best moments of his life. What a jest of fate!...
+Farewell forever, Luna!... No, not Luna. Farewell, Horabuena!
+
+On the next day he took passage on the ship that was leaving for Port
+Said. What was there for him to do in Gibraltar?... It had been for
+three months a paradise, at the side of the woman who beautified his
+existence; now it was an intolerable city, cramped and monotonous; a
+deserted castle; a damp, dark prison. He telegraphed to his uncle,
+informing him of his departure. The vessel would weigh anchor at night,
+after the sunset gun, when it had taken on its supply of coal.
+
+The hotel people brought him news. Khiamull had died at the hospital, in
+the full possession of his mental faculties as is characteristic of
+consumptives, and had spoken of the distant land of the sun, of its
+virgins, dark and slender as bronze statues, crowned with the lotus
+flower. A hemorrhage had put an end to his hopes. All the town was
+talking about his burial. His compatriots, the Hindu shopkeepers, had
+sent a delegation to the governor and made arrangements for the funeral
+rites. They were going to cremate the body on the outskirts of the town,
+on the beach that faced the East. His remains must not rot in impure
+soil. The English governor, deferent toward the creeds of his various
+subjects, presented them with the necessary wood. At night-fall they
+would dig a hollow on the beach, fill it with shavings and faggots; then
+they would put in large logs, and the corpse; on top of this, more wood,
+and after the pyre had ceased to burn for lack of fuel Khiamull's
+religious brethren would gather the ashes and bear them off in a boat to
+scatter them at sea.
+
+Aguirre listened coldly to these details. Happy Khiamull, who was
+departing thus! Fire, plenty of fire! Would that he could burn the town,
+and the near-by lands, and finally the whole world!...
+
+At ten o'clock the transatlantic liner raised anchor. The Spaniard,
+leaning over the rail, saw the black mountain and the huge Rock, its
+base speckled with rows of lights, grow small as if sinking into the
+horizon. Its obscure ridge was silhouetted against the sky like a
+crouching monster toying with a swarm of stars between its paws.
+
+The vessel rounded Europa Point and the lights disappeared. Now the
+cliff was visible from its Eastern face, black, imposing, bare, with no
+other light than that of the lighthouse at its extreme end.
+
+Suddenly a new light arose,--a red line, a perpendicular flame,--at the
+foot of the mountain, as if it came out of the sea. Aguirre guessed what
+it was. Poor Khiamull! The flames were beginning to consume his body
+upon the beach. The bronze-faced men were at this moment gathered about
+the pyre, like priests of a remote civilization, hastening the disposal
+of their companion's remains.
+
+Farewell, Khiamull! He had died with his hope placed in the Orient,--the
+land of love and perfumes, the abode of delights,--without having been
+able to realize his dreams. And here was Aguirre traveling thither with
+an empty heart, a paralyzed soul, wearied and bereft of strength, as if
+he had just emerged from the most terrible of ordeals.
+
+"Farewell, melancholy and gentle Hindu, poor poet who dreamed of light
+and love as you sold your trinkets in that damp hole!..." His remains,
+purified by flame, were going to be lost in the bosom of the great
+mother. Perhaps his delicate, bird-like soul would survive in the
+sea-gulls that fluttered about the cliff; perhaps he would sing in the
+roaring foam of the submarine caverns, as an accompaniment to the vows
+of other lovers who would come there in their turn, on the impulse of
+the deceptive illusion, the sweet lie of love that gives us new strength
+to continue on our way.
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+THE TOAD
+
+
+"I WAS spending the summer at Nazaret," said my friend Orduna, "a little
+fishermen's town near Valencia. The women went to the city to sell the
+fish, the men sailed about in their boats with triangular sails, or
+tugged at their nets on the beach; we summer vacationists spent the day
+sleeping and the night at the doors of our houses, contemplating the
+phosphorescence of the waves or slapping ourselves here and there
+whenever we heard the buzz of a mosquito,--that scourge of our resting
+hours.
+
+"The doctor, a hardy and genial old fellow, would come and sit down
+under the bower before my door, and we'd spend the night together, with
+a jar or a watermelon at our side, speaking of his patients, folks of
+land or sea, credulous, rough and insolent in their manners, given over
+to fishing or to the cultivation of their fields. At times we laughed as
+he recalled the illness of Visanteta, the daughter of _la Soberana_, an
+old fishmonger who justified her nickname of _the Queen_ by her bulk and
+her stature, as well as by the arrogance with which she treated her
+market companions, imposing her will upon them by right of might.... The
+belle of the place was this Visanteta: tiny, malicious, with a clever
+tongue, and no other good looks than that of youthful health; but she
+had a pair of penetrating eyes and a trick of pretending timidity,
+weakness and interest, which simply turned the heads of the village
+youths. Her sweetheart was _Carafosca_, a brave fisherman who was
+capable of sailing on a stick of wood. On the sea he was admired by all
+for his audacity; on land he filled everybody with fear by his provoking
+silence and the facility with which he whipped out his aggressive
+sailor's knife. Ugly, burly and always ready for a fight, like the huge
+creatures that from time to time showed up in the waters of Nazaret
+devouring all the fish, he would walk to church on Sunday afternoons at
+his sweetheart's side, and every time the maiden raised her head to
+speak to him, amidst the simple talk and lisping of a delicate, pampered
+child, _Carafosca_ would cast a challenging look about him with his
+squinting eyes, as if defying all the folk of the fields, the beach and
+the sea to take his Visanteta away from him.
+
+"One day the most astounding news was bruited about Nazaret. The
+daughter of _la Soberana_ had an animal inside of her. Her abdomen was
+swelling; the slow deformation revealed itself through her underskirts
+and her dress; her face lost color, and the fact that she had swooned
+several times, vomiting painfully, upset the entire cabin and caused her
+mother to burst into desperate lamentations and to run in terror for
+help. Many of her neighbors smiled when they heard of this illness. Let
+them tell it to _Carafosca_!... But the incredulous ones ceased their
+malicious talk and their suspicions when they saw how sad and desperate
+_Carafosca_ became at his sweetheart's illness, praying for her recovery
+with all the fervor of a simple soul, even going so far as to enter the
+little village church,--he, who had always been a pagan, a blasphemer of
+God and the saints.
+
+"Yes, it was a strange and horrible sickness. The people, in their
+predisposition to believe in all sorts of extraordinary and rare
+afflictions, were certain that they knew what this was. Visanteta had a
+toad in her stomach. She had drunk from a certain spot of the near-by
+river, and the wicked animal, small and almost unnoticeable, had gone
+down into her stomach, growing fast. The good neighbors, trembling with
+stupefaction, flocked to _la Soberana's_ cabin to examine the girl. All,
+with a certain solemnity, felt the swelling abdomen, seeking in its
+tightened surface the outlines of the hidden creature. Some of them,
+older and more experienced than the rest, laughed with a triumphant
+expression. There it was, right under their hand. They could feel it
+stirring, moving about.... Yes, it was moving! And after grave
+deliberation, they agreed upon remedies to expel the unwelcome guest.
+They gave the girl spoonfuls of rosemary honey, so that the wicked
+creature inside should start to eat it gluttonously, and when he was
+most preoccupied in his joyous meal, whiz!--an inundation of onion juice
+and vinegar that would bring him out at full gallop. At the same time
+they applied to her stomach miraculous plasters, so that the toad, left
+without a moment's rest, should escape in terror; there were rags soaked
+in brandy and saturated with incense; tangles of hemp dipped in the
+calking of the ships; mountain herbs; simple bits of paper with numbers,
+crosses and Solomon's seal upon them, sold by the miracle-worker of the
+city. Visanteta thought that all these remedies that were being thrust
+down her throat would be the death of her. She shuddered with the chills
+of nausea, she writhed in horrible contortions as if she were about to
+expel her very entrails, but the odious toad did not deign to show even
+one of his legs, and _la Soberana_ cried to heaven. Ah, her daughter!...
+Those remedies would never succeed in casting out the wretched animal;
+it was better to let it alone, and not torture the poor girl; rather
+give it a great deal to eat, so that it wouldn't feed upon the strength
+of Visanteta who was glowing paler and weaker every day.
+
+"And as _la Soberana_ was poor, all her friends, moved by the
+compassionate solidarity of the common people, devoted themselves to the
+feeding of Visanteta so that the toad should do her no harm. The
+fisherwomen, upon returning from the square brought her cakes that were
+purchased in city establishments, that only the upper class patronized;
+on the beach, when the catch was sorted, they laid aside for her a
+dainty morsel that would serve for a succulent soup; the neighbors, who
+happened to be cooking in their pots over the fire would take out a
+cupful of the best of the broth, carrying it slowly so that it shouldn't
+spill, and bring it to _la Soberana's_ cabin; cups of chocolate arrived
+one after the other every afternoon.
+
+"Visanteta rebelled against this excessive kindness. She couldn't
+swallow another drop! She was full! But her mother stuck out her hairy
+nose with an imperious expression. 'I tell you to eat!' She must
+remember what she had inside of her.... And she began to feel a faint,
+indefinable affection for that mysterious creature, lodged in the
+entrails of her daughter. She pictured it to herself; she could see it;
+it was her pride. Thanks to it, the whole town had its eyes upon the
+cabin and the trail of visitors was unending, and _la Soberana_ never
+passed a woman on her way without being stopped and asked for news.
+
+"Only once had they summoned the doctor, seeing him pass by the door;
+but not that they really wished him, or had any faith in him. What could
+that helpless man do against such a tenacious animal!... And upon
+hearing that, not content with the explanations of the mother and the
+daughter and his own audacious tapping around her clothes, he
+recommended an internal examination, the proud mother almost showed him
+the door. The impudent wretch! Not in a hurry was he going to have the
+pleasure of seeing her daughter so intimately! The poor thing, so good
+and so modest, who blushed merely at the thought of such proposals!...
+
+"On Sunday afternoons Visanteta went to church, figuring at the head of
+the daughters of Mary. Her voluminous abdomen was eyed with admiration
+by the girls. They all asked breathlessly after the toad, and Visanteta
+replied wearily. It didn't bother her so much now. It had grown very
+much because she ate so well; sometimes it moved about, but it didn't
+hurt as it used to. One after the other the maidens would place their
+hands upon the afflicted one and feel the movements of the invisible
+creature, admiring as they did so the superiority of their friend. The
+curate, a blessed chap of pious simplicity, pretended not to notice the
+feminine curiosity, and thought with awe of the things done by God to
+put His creatures to the test. Afterwards, when the afternoon drew to a
+close, and the choir sang in gentle voice the praises of Our Lady of the
+Sea, each of the virgins would fall to thinking of that mysterious
+beast, praying fervently that poor Visanteta be delivered of it as soon
+as possible.
+
+"_Carafosca_, too, enjoyed a certain notoriety because of his
+sweetheart's affliction. The women accosted him, the old fishermen
+stopped him to inquire about the animal that was torturing his girl.
+'The poor thing! The poor thing!' he would groan, in accents of amorous
+commiseration. He said no more; but his eyes revealed a vehement desire
+to take over as soon as possible Visanteta and her toad, since the
+latter inspired a certain affection in him because of its connection
+with her.
+
+"One night, when the doctor was at my door, a woman came in search of
+him, panting with dramatic horror. _La Soberana's_ daughter was very
+sick; he must run to her rescue. The doctor shrugged his shoulders 'Ah,
+yes! The toad!' And he didn't seem at all anxious to stir. Then came
+another woman, more agitated than the first. Poor Visanteta! She was
+dying! Her shrieks could be heard all over the street. The wicked beast
+was devouring her entrails....
+
+"I followed the doctor, attracted by the curiosity that had the whole
+town in a commotion. When we came to _la Soberana's_ cabin we had to
+force our way through a compact group of women who obstructed the
+doorway, crowding into the house. A rending shriek, a rasping wail came
+from the innermost part of the dwelling, rising above the heads of the
+curious or terrified women. The hoarse voice of _la Soberana_ answered
+with entreating accents. Her daughter! Ah, Lord, her poor daughter!...
+
+"The arrival of the physician was received by a chorus of demands on the
+part of the old women. Poor Visanteta was writhing furiously, unable to
+bear such pain; her eyes bulged from their sockets and her features were
+distorted. She must be operated upon; her entrails must be opened and
+the green, slippery demon that was eating her alive must be expelled.
+
+"The doctor proceeded upon his task, without paying any attention to the
+advice showered upon him, and before I could reach his side his voice
+resounded through the sudden silence, with ill-humored brusqueness:
+
+"'But good Lord, the only trouble with this girl is that she's going
+to...!'
+
+"Before he could finish, all could guess from the harshness of his voice
+what he was about to say. The group of women yielded before _la
+Soberana's_ thrusts even as the waves of the sea under the belly of a
+whale. She stuck out her big hands and her threatening nails, mumbling
+insults and looking at the doctor with murder in her eyes. Bandit!
+Drunkard! Out of her house!...It was the people's fault, for supporting
+such an infidel. She'd eat him up! Let them make way for her!... And she
+struggled violently with her friends, fighting to free herself and
+scratch out the doctor's eyes. To her vindictive cries were joined the
+weak bleating of Visanteta, protesting with the breath that was left her
+between her groans of pain. It was a lie! Let that wicked man be gone!
+What a nasty mouth he had! It was all a lie!...
+
+"But the doctor went hither and thither, asking for water, for bandages,
+snappy and imperious in his commands, paying no attention whatsoever to
+the threats of the mother or the cries of the daughter, which were
+becoming louder and more heart-rending than ever. Suddenly she roared as
+if she were being slaughtered, and there was a bustle of curiosity
+around the physician, whom I couldn't see. 'It's a lie! A lie!
+Evil-tongued wretch! Slanderer!'... But the protestations of Visanteta
+were no longer unaccompanied. To her voice of an innocent victim begging
+justice from heaven was added the cry of a pair of lungs that were
+breathing the air for the first time.
+
+"And now the friends of _la Soberana_ had to restrain her from falling
+upon her daughter. She would kill her! The bitch! Whose child was
+that?... And terrified by the threats of her mother, the sick woman, who
+was still sobbing 'It's a lie! A lie!' at last spoke. It was a young
+fellow of the _huerta_ whom she had never seen again... an indiscretion
+committed one evening... she no longer remembered. No, she could not
+remember!... And she insisted upon this forgetfulness as if it were an
+incontrovertible excuse.
+
+"The people now saw through it all. The women were impatient to spread
+the news. As we left, _la Soberana_, humiliated and in tears, tried to
+kneel before the doctor and kiss his hand. 'Ay, Don Antoni!... Don
+Antoni!' She asked pardon for her insults; she despaired when she
+thought of the village comments. What they would have to suffer now!...
+On the following day the youths that sang as they arranged their nets
+would invent new verses. The song of the toad! Her life would become
+impossible!... But even more than this, the thought of _Carafosca_
+terrified her. She knew very well what sort of brute that was. He would
+kill poor Visanteta the first time she appeared on the street; and she
+herself would meet the same fate for being her mother and not having
+guarded her well. 'Ay, Don Antoni!' She begged him, upon her knees, to
+see _Carafosca_. He, who was so good and who knew so much, could
+convince the fellow with his reasoning, and make him swear that he would
+not do the women any harm,--that he would forget them.
+
+"The doctor received these entreaties with the same indifference as he
+had received the threats, and he answered sharply. He would see about
+it; it was a delicate affair. But once in the street, he shrugged his
+shoulders with resignation. 'Let's go and see that animal.'
+
+"We pulled him out of the tavern and the three of us began to walk along
+the beach through the darkness. The fisherman seemed to be awed at
+finding himself between two persons of such importance. Don Antonio
+spoke to him of the indisputable superiority of men ever since the
+earliest days of creation; of the scorn with which women should be
+regarded because of their lack of seriousness; of their immense number
+and the ease with which we could pick another if the one we had happened
+to displease us... and at last, with brutal directness, told what had
+happened.
+
+"_Carafosca_ hesitated, as if he had not understood the doctor's words
+very well. Little by little the certainty dawned upon his dense
+comprehension. 'By God! By God!' And he scratched himself fearfully
+under his cap, and brought his hands to his sash as if he were seeking
+his redoubtable knife.
+
+"The physician tried to console him. He must forget Visanteta; there
+would be no sense or advantage in killing her. It wasn't worth while for
+a splendid chap like him to go to prison for slaying a worthless
+creature like her. The real culprit was that unknown laborer; but... and
+she! And how easily she... committed the indiscretion, not being able to
+recall anything afterwards!...
+
+"For a long time we walked along in painful silence, with no other
+novelty than _Carafosca's_ scratching of his head and his sash. Suddenly
+he surprised us with the roar of his voice, speaking to us in Castilian,
+thus adding solemnity to what he said:
+
+"'Do you want me to tell you something?... Do you want me to tell you
+something?'
+
+"He looked at us with hostile eyes, as if he saw before him the unknown
+culprit of the _huerta_, ready to pounce upon him. It could be seen that
+his sluggish brain had just adopted a very firm resolution.... What was
+it? Let him speak.
+
+"'Well, then,' he articulated slowly, as if we were enemies whom he
+desired to confound, 'I tell you... that now I love the girl more than
+ever.'
+
+"In our stupefaction, at a loss for reply, we shook hands with him."
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+COMPASSION
+
+
+AT TEN o'clock in the evening Count de Sagreda walked into his club on
+the Boulevard des Capucins. There was a bustle among the servants to
+relieve him of his cane, his highly polished hat and his costly fur
+coat, which, as it left his shoulders revealed a shirt-bosom of
+immaculate neatness, a gardenia in his lapel, and all the attire of
+black and white, dignified yet brilliant, that belongs to a gentleman
+who has just dined.
+
+The story of his ruin was known by every member of the club. His
+fortune, which fifteen years before had caused a certain commotion in
+Paris, having been ostentatiously cast to the four winds, was exhausted.
+The count was now living on the remains of his opulence, like those
+shipwrecked seamen who live upon the débris of the vessel, postponing in
+anguish the arrival of the last hour. The very servants who danced
+attendance upon him like slaves in dress suits, knew of his misfortune
+and discussed his shameful plight; but not even the slightest suggestion
+of insolence disturbed the colorless glance of their eyes, petrified by
+servitude. He was such a nobleman! He had scattered his money with such
+majesty!... Besides, he was a genuine member of the nobility, a nobility
+that dated back for centuries and whose musty odor inspired a certain
+ceremonious gravity in many of the citizens whose fore-bears had helped
+bring about the Revolution. He was not one of those Polish counts who
+permit themselves to be entertained by women, nor an Italian marquis who
+winds up by cheating at cards, nor a Russian personage of consequence
+who often draws his pay from the police; he was genuine _hidalgo_, a
+grandee of Spain. Perhaps one of his ancestors figured in the _Cid_, in
+_Ruy Blas_ or some other of the heroic pieces in the repertory of the
+Comédie Française.
+
+The count entered the salons of the club with head erect and a proud
+gait, greeting his friends with a barely discernible smile, a mixture of
+hauteur and light-heartedness.
+
+He was approaching his fortieth year, but he was still the _beau_
+Sagreda, as he had long been nicknamed by the noctambulous women of
+Maxim's and the early-rising Amazons of the Bois. A few gray hairs at
+his temples and a triangle of faint wrinkles at the corner of his brows,
+betrayed the effects of an existence that had been lived at too rapid a
+pace, with the vital machinery running at full speed. But his eyes were
+still youthful, intense and melancholy; eyes that caused him to be
+called "the Moor" by his men and women friends. The Viscount de la
+Tresminičre, crowned by the Academy as the author of a study on one of
+his ancestors who had been a companion of Condé, and highly appreciated
+by the antique dealers on the left bank of the Seine, who sold him all
+the bad canvases they had in store, called him _Velazquez_, satisfied
+that the swarthy, somewhat olive complexion of the count, his black,
+heavy mustache and his grave eyes, gave him the right to display his
+thorough acquaintance with Spanish art.
+
+All the members of the club spoke of Sagreda's ruin with discreet
+compassion. The poor count! Not to fall heir to some new legacy. Not to
+meet some American millionairess who would be smitten with him and his
+titles!... They must do something to save him.
+
+And he walked amid this mute and smiling pity without being at all aware
+of it, encased in his pride, receiving as admiration that which was
+really compassionate sympathy, forced to have recourse to painful
+simulations in order to surround himself with as much luxury as before,
+thinking that he was deceiving others and deceiving only himself.
+
+Sagreda cherished no illusions as to the future. All the relatives that
+might come to his rescue with a timely legacy had done so many years
+before, upon making their exit from the world's stage. None that might
+recall his name was left beyond the mountains. In Spain he had only some
+distant relatives, personages of the nobility united to him more by
+historic bonds than by ties of blood. They addressed him familiarly, but
+he could expect from them no help other than good advice and admonitions
+against his wild extravagance.... It was all over. Fifteen years of
+dazzling display had consumed the supply of wealth with which Sagreda
+one day arrived in Paris. The granges of Andalusia, with their droves of
+cattle and horses, had changed hands without ever having made the
+acquaintance of this owner, devoted to luxury and always absent. After
+them, the vast wheat fields of Castilla and the ricefields of Valencia,
+and the villages of the northern provinces, had gone into strange
+hands,--all the princely possessions of the ancient counts of Sagreda,
+plus the inheritances from various pious spinster aunts, and the
+considerable legacies of other relatives who had died of old age in
+their ancient country houses.
+
+Paris and the elegant summer seasons had in a few years devoured this
+fortune of centuries. The recollection of a few noisy love affairs with
+two actresses in vogue; the nostalgic smile of a dozen costly women of
+the world; the forgotten fame of several duels; a certain prestige as a
+rash, calm gambler, and a reputation as a knightly swordsman,
+intransigent in matters of honor, were all that remained to the _beau_
+Sagreda after his downfall.
+
+He lived upon his past, contracting new debts with certain providers
+who, recalling other financial crises, trusted to a re-establishment of
+his fortune. "His fate was settled," according to the count's own words.
+When he could do no more, he would resort to a final course. Kill
+himself?... never. Men like him committed suicide only because of
+gambling debts or debts of honor. Ancestors of his, noble and glorious,
+had owed huge sums to persons who were not their equals, without for a
+moment considering suicide on this account. When the creditors should
+shut their doors to him, and the money-lenders should threaten him with
+a public court scandal, Count de Sagreda, making a heroic effort, would
+wrench himself away from the sweet Parisian life. His ancestors had been
+soldiers and colonizers. He would join the foreign legion of Algeria, or
+would take passage for that America which had been conquered by his
+forefathers, becoming a mounted shepherd in the solitudes of Southern
+Chile or upon the boundless plains of Patagonia.
+
+Until the dreaded moment should arrive, this hazardous, cruel existence
+that forced him to live a continuous lie, was the best period of his
+career. From his last trip to Spain, made for the purpose of liquidating
+certain remnants of his patrimony, he had returned with a woman, a
+maiden of the provinces who had been captivated by the prestige of the
+nobleman; in her affection, ardent and submissive at the same time,
+there was almost as much admiration as love. A woman!... Sagreda for the
+first time realized the full significance of this word, as if up to then
+he had not understood it. His present companion was a woman; the
+nervous, dissatisfied females who had filled his previous existence,
+with their painted smiles and voluptuous artifices, belonged to another
+species.
+
+And now that the real woman had arrived, his money was departing
+forever!... And when misfortune appeared, love came with it!... Sagreda,
+lamenting his lost fortune struggled hard to maintain his pompous
+outward show. He lived as before, in the same house, without retrenching
+his budget, making his companion presents of value equal to those that
+he had lavished upon his former women friends, enjoying an almost
+paternal satisfaction before the childish surprise and the ingenuous
+happiness of the poor girl, who was overwhelmed by the brilliant life of
+Paris.
+
+Sagreda was drowning,--drowning!--but with a smile on his lips, content
+with himself, with his present life, with this sweet dream, which was to
+be the final one and which was lasting miraculously long. Fate, which
+had maltreated him in the past few years, consuming the remainders of
+his wealth at Monte Carlo, at Ostend and in the notable clubs of the
+Boulevard, seemed now to stretch out a helping hand, touched by his new
+existence. Every night, after dining with his companion at a fashionable
+restaurant, he would leave her at the theatre and go to his club, the
+only place where luck awaited him. He did not plunge heavily. Simple
+games of écarté with intimate friends, chums of his youth, who continued
+their happy career with the aid of great fortunes, or who had settled
+down after marrying wealth, retaining among their farmer habits the
+custom of visiting the honorable circle.
+
+Scarcely did the count take his seat, with his cards in his hand,
+opposite one of these friends, when Fortune seemed to hover over his
+head, and his friends did not tire of playing, inviting him to a game
+every night, as if they stood in line awaiting their turn. His winnings
+were hardly enough to grow wealthy upon; some nights ten _louis_; others
+twenty-five; on special occasions Sagreda would retire with as many as
+forty gold coins in his pocket. But thanks to this almost daily gain he
+was able to fill the gaps of his lordly existence, which threatened to
+topple down upon his head, and he maintained his lady companion in
+surroundings of loving comfort, at the same time recovering confidence
+in his immediate future. Who could tell what was in store for him?...
+
+Noticing Viscount de la Tresminičre in one of the salons he smiled at
+him with an expression of friendly challenge.
+
+"What do you say to a game?"
+
+"As you wish, my dear _Velazquez_."
+
+"Seven francs per five points will be sufficient. I'm sure to win. Luck
+is with me."
+
+The game commenced under the soft light of the electric bulbs, amid the
+soothing silence of soft carpets and thick curtains.
+
+Sagreda kept winning, as if his kind fate was pleased to extricate him
+from the most difficult passes. He won without half trying. It made no
+difference that he lacked trumps and that he held bad cards; those of
+his rival were always worse, and the result would be miraculously in
+harmony with his previous games.
+
+Already, twenty-five golden _louis_ lay before him. A club companion,
+who was wandering from one salon to the other with a bored expression,
+stopped near the players interested in the game. At first he remained
+standing near Sagreda; then he took up his position behind the viscount,
+who seemed to be rendered nervous and perturbed at the fellow's
+proximity.
+
+"But that's awful silly of you!" the inquisitive newcomer soon
+exclaimed. "You're not playing a good game, my dear viscount. You're
+laying aside your trumps and using only your bad cards. How stupid of
+you!"
+
+He could say no more. Sagreda threw his cards upon the table. He had
+grown terribly white, with a greenish pallor. His eyes, opened
+extraordinarily wide, stared at the viscount. Then he rose.
+
+"I understand," he said coldly. "Allow me to withdraw."
+
+Then, with a quivering hand, he thrust the heap of gold coins toward his
+friend.
+
+"This belongs to you."
+
+"But, my dear _Velazquez_.... Why, Sagreda!... Permit me to explain,
+dear count!..."
+
+"Enough, sir. I repeat that I understand."
+
+His eyes flashed with a strange gleam, the selfsame gleam that his
+friends had seen upon various occasions, when after a brief dispute or
+an insulting word, he raised his glove in a gesture of challenge.
+
+But this hostile glance lasted only a moment. Then he smiled with
+glacial affability.
+
+"Many thanks, Viscount. These are favors that are never forgotten.... I
+repeat my gratitude."
+
+And he saluted, like a true noble, walking off proudly erect, the same
+as in the most smiling days of his opulence.
+
+  * * *
+
+With his fur coat open, displaying his immaculate shirt bosom, Count de
+Sagreda promenades along the boulevard. The crowds are issuing from the
+theatres; the women are crossing from one sidewalk to the other;
+automobiles with lighted interiors roll by, affording a momentary
+glimpse of plumes, jewels and white bosoms; the news-vendors shout their
+wares; at the top of the buildings huge electrical advertisements blaze
+forth and go out in rapid succession.
+
+The Spanish grandee, the _hidalgo_, the descendant of the noble knights
+of the _Cid_ and _Ruy Blas_, walks against the current, elbowing his way
+through the crowd, desiring to hasten as fast as possible, without any
+particular objective in view.
+
+To contract debts!... Very well. Debts do not dishonor a nobleman. But
+to receive alms?... In his hours of blackest thoughts he had never
+trembled before the idea of incurring scorn through his ruin, of seeing
+his friends desert him, of descending to the lowest depths, being lost
+in the social substratum. But to arouse compassion....
+
+The comedy was useless. The intimate friends who smiled at him in former
+times had penetrated the secret of his poverty and had been moved by
+pity to get together and take turns at giving him alms under the pretext
+of gambling with him. And likewise his other friends, and even the
+servants who bowed to him with their accustomed respect as he passed by,
+were in the secret. And he, the poor dupe, was going about with his
+lordly airs, stiff and solemn in his extinct grandeur, like the corpse
+of the lengendary chieftain, which, after his death, was mounted on
+horseback and sallied forth to win battles.
+
+Farewell, Count de Sagreda! The heir of governors and viceroys can
+become a nameless soldier in a legion of desperadoes and bandits; he can
+begin life anew as an adventurer in virgin lands, killing that he may
+live; he can even watch with impassive countenance the wreck of his name
+and his family history, before the bench of a tribunal.... But to live
+upon the compassion of his friends!...
+
+Farewell forever, final illusions! The count has forgotten his
+companion, who is waiting for him at a night restaurant. He does not
+think of her; it is as if he never had seen her; as if she had never
+existed. He thinks not at all of that which but a few hours before had
+made life worth living. He walks along, alone with his disgrace, and
+each step of his seems to draw from the earth a dead thing; an ancestral
+influence, a racial prejudice, a family boast, dormant hauteur, honor
+and fierce pride, and as these awake, they oppress his breast and cloud
+his thoughts.
+
+How they must have laughed at him behind his back, with condescending
+pity!... Now he walks along more hurriedly than ever, as if he has at
+last made up his mind just where he is going, and his emotion leads him
+unconsciously to murmur with irony, as if he is speaking to somebody who
+is at his heels and whom he desires to flee.
+
+"Many thanks! Many thanks!"
+
+Just before dawn two revolver shots astound the guests of a hotel in the
+vicinity of the _Gare Saint-Lazare_,--one of those ambiguous
+establishments that offers a safe shelter for amorous acquaintances
+begun on the thoroughfare.
+
+The attendants find in one of the rooms a gentleman dressed in evening
+clothes, with a hole in his head, through which escape bloody strips of
+flesh. The man writhes like a worm upon the threadbare carpet.
+
+His eyes, of a dull black, still glitter with life. There is nothing
+left in them of the image of his sweet companion. His last thought,
+interrupted by death, is of friendship, terrible in its pity; of the
+fraternal insult of a generous, light-hearted compassion.
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+LUXURY
+
+
+"I HAD her on my lap," said my friend Martinez, "and the warm weight of
+her healthy body was beginning to tire me.
+
+"The scene... same as usual in such places. Mirrors with blemished
+surfaces, and names scratched across them, like spiders' webs; sofas of
+discolored velvet, with springs that creaked atrociously; the bed
+decorated with theatrical hangings, as clean and common as a sidewalk,
+and on the walls, pictures of bull-fighters and cheap chromos of angelic
+virgins smelling a rose or languorously contemplating a bold hunter.
+
+"The scenery was that of the favorite cell in the convent of vice; an
+elegant room reserved for distinguished patrons; and she was a healthy,
+robust creature, who seemed to bring a whiff of the pure mountain air
+into the heavy atmosphere of this closed house, saturated with cheap
+cologne, rice powder and the vapor from dirty washbasins.
+
+"As she spoke to me she stroked the ribbons of her gown with childish
+complacency; it was a fine piece of satin, of screaming yellow, somewhat
+too tight for her body, a dress which I recalled having seen months
+before on the delicate charms of another girl, who had since died,
+according to reports, in the hospital.
+
+"Poor girl! She had become a sight! Her coarse, abundant hair, combed in
+Greek fashion, was adorned with glass beads; her cheeks, shiny from the
+dew of perspiration, were covered with a thick layer of cosmetic; and as
+if to reveal her origin, her arms, which were firm, swarthy and of
+masculine proportions, escaped from the ample sleeves of her chorus-girl
+costume.
+
+"As she saw me follow with attentive glance all the details of her
+extravagant array, she thought that I was admiring her, and threw her
+head back with a petulant expression.
+
+"And such a simple creature!... She hadn't yet become acquainted with
+the customs of the house, and told the truth,--all the truth--to the men
+who wished to know her history. They called her Flora; but her real name
+was Mari-Pepa. She wasn't the orphan of a colonel or a magistrate, nor
+did she concoct the complicated tales of love and adventure that her
+companions did, in order to justify their presence in such a place. The
+truth; always the truth; she would yet be hanged for her frankness. Her
+parents were comfortably situated farmers in a little town of Aragón;
+owned their fields, had two mules in the barn, bread, wine, and enough
+potatoes for the year round; and at night the best fellows in the place
+came one after the other to soften her heart with serenade upon
+serenade, trying to carry off her dark, healthy person together with the
+four orchards she had inherited from her grandfather.
+
+"'But what could you expect, my dear fellow?... I couldn't bear those
+people. They were too coarse for me. I was born to be a lady. And tell
+me, why can't I be? Don't I look as good as any of them?...'
+
+"And she snuggled her head against my shoulder, like the docile
+sweetheart she was,--a slave subjected to all sorts of caprices in
+exchange for being clothed handsomely.
+
+"' Those fellows,' she continued, 'made me sick. I ran off with the
+student,--understand?--the son of the town magistrate, and we wandered
+about until he deserted me, and I landed here, waiting for something
+better to turn up. You see, it's a short tale.... I don't complain of
+anything. I'm satisfied.'
+
+"And to show how happy she was, the unhappy girl rode astride my legs,
+thrust her hard fingers through my hair, rumpling it, and sang a tango
+in horrible fashion, in her strong, peasant voice.
+
+"I confess that I was seized with an impulse to speak to her 'in the
+name of morality,'--that hypocritical desire we all possess to propagate
+virtue when we are sated and desire is dead.
+
+"She raised her eyes, astonished to see me look so solemn, preaching to
+her, like a missionary glorifying chastity with a prostitute on his
+knees; her gaze wandered continually from my austere countenance to the
+bed close by. Her common sense was baffled before the incongruity
+between such virtue and the excesses of a moment before.
+
+"Suddenly she seemed to understand, and an outburst of laughter swelled
+her fleshy neck.
+
+"'The deuce!... How amusing you are! And with what a face you say all
+these things! Just like the priest of my home town....'
+
+"No, Pepa, I'm serious. I believe you're a good girl; you don't realize
+what you've gone into, and I'm warning you. You've fallen very low, very
+low. You're at the bottom. Even within the career of vice, the majority
+of women resist and deny the caresses that are required of you in this
+house. There is yet time for you to save yourself. Your parents have
+enough for you to live on; you didn't come here under the necessity of
+poverty. Return to your home, and the past will be forgotten; you can
+tell them a lie, invent some sort of tale to justify your flight, and
+who knows?... One of the fellows that used to serenade you will marry
+you, you'll have children and you'll be a respectable woman.
+
+"The girl became serious when she saw that I was speaking in earnest.
+Little by little she began to slip from my knees until she was on her
+feet, eyeing me fixedly, as if she saw before her some strange person
+and an invisible wall had arisen between the two.
+
+"'Go back to my home!' she exclaimed in harsh accents. 'Many thanks. I
+know very well what that means. Get up before dawn, work like a slave,
+go out in the fields, ruin your hands with callouses. Look, see how my
+hands still show them.'
+
+"And she made me feel the rough lumps that rose on the palms of her
+strong hands.
+
+"'And all this, in exchange for what? For being respectable?... Not a
+bit of it! I'm not that crazy. So much for respectability!'
+
+"And she accompanied these words with some indecent motions that she had
+picked up from her companions.
+
+"Afterwards, humming a tune, she went over to the mirror to survey
+herself, and smilingly greeted the reflection of her powdered hair,
+covered with false pearls, which shone out of the cracked mirror. She
+contracted her lips, which were rouged like those of a clown.
+
+"Growing more and more firm in my virtuous rôle, I continued to
+sermonize her from my chair, enveloping this hypocritical propaganda in
+sonorous words. She was making a bad choice; she must think of the
+future. The present could not be worse. What was she? Less than a slave;
+a piece of furniture; they exploited her, they robbed her, and
+afterwards... afterwards it would be still worse; the hospital,
+repulsive diseases....
+
+"But again her harsh laughter interrupted me.
+
+"'Quit it, boy. Don't bother me.'
+
+"And planting herself before me she wrapped me in a gaze of infinite
+compassion.
+
+"'Why my dear fellow, how silly you are! Do you imagine that I can go
+back to that dog's life, after having tasted this one?... No, sir! I was
+born for luxury.'
+
+"And, with devoted admiration sweeping her glance across the broken
+chairs, the faded sofa, and that bed which was a public thoroughfare,
+she began to walk up and down, revelling in the rustle of her train as
+it dragged across the room, and caressing the folds of that gown which
+seemed still to preserve the warmth of the other girl's body."
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+RABIES
+
+
+FROM all the countryside the neighbors of the _huerta_ flocked to
+_Caldera's_ cabin, entering it with a certain meekness, a mingling of
+emotion and fear.
+
+How was the boy? Was he improving?... Uncle Pascal, surrounded by his
+wife, his daughters-in-law and even the most distant relatives, who had
+been gathered together by misfortune, received with melancholy
+satisfaction this interest of the entire vicinity in the health of his
+son. Yes, he was getting better. For two days he had not been attacked
+by that horrible _thing_ which set the cabin in commotion. And
+_Caldera's_ laconic farmer friends, as well as the women, who were
+vociferous in the expression of their emotions, appeared at the
+threshold of the room, asking timidly, "How do you feel?"
+
+The only son of _Caldera_ was in there, sometimes in bed, in obedience
+to his mother, who could conceive of no illness without the cup of hot
+water and seclusion between the bed-sheets; at other times he sat up,
+his jaws supported by his hands, gazing obstinately into the furthermost
+corner of the room. His father, wrinkling his shaggy white brows, would
+walk about when left alone, or, through force of habit, take a look at
+the neighboring fields, but without any desire to bend over and pluck
+out any of the weeds that were beginning to sprout in the furrows. Much
+this land mattered to him now,--the earth in whose bowels he had left
+the sweat of his body and the strength of his limbs!... His son was all
+he had,--the fruit of a late marriage,--and he was a sturdy youth, as
+industrious and taciturn as his father; a soldier of the soil, who
+required neither orders nor threat to fulfil his duties; ready to awake
+at midnight when it was his turn to irrigate his land and give the
+fields drink under the light of the stars; quick to spring from his bed
+on the hard kitchen bench, throwing off the covers and putting on his
+hemp sandals at the sound of the early rooster's reveille.
+
+Uncle Pascal had never smiled. He was the Latin type of father; the
+fearful master of the house, who, on returning from his labors, ate
+alone, served by his wife, who stood by with an expression of
+submission. But this grave, harsh mask of an omnipotent master concealed
+a boundless admiration for his son, who was his best work. How quickly
+he loaded a cart! How he perspired as he managed the hoe with a vigorous
+forward and backward motion that seemed to cleave him at the waist! Who
+could ride a pony like him, gracefully jumping on to his back by simply
+resting the toe of a sandal upon the hind legs of the animal?... He
+didn't touch wine, never got mixed up in a brawl, nor was he afraid of
+work. Through good luck he had pulled a high number in the military
+draft, and when the feast of San Juan came around he intended to marry a
+girl from a near-by farm,--a maiden that would bring with her a few
+pieces of earth when she came to the cabin of her new parents.
+Happiness; an honorable and peaceful continuation of the family
+traditions; another _Caldera_, who, when Uncle Pascal grew old, would
+continue to work the lands that had been fructified by his ancestors,
+while a troop of little _Calderitas_, increasing in number each year,
+would play around the nag harnessed to the plow, eyeing with a certain
+awe their grandpa, his eyes watery from age and his words very concise,
+as he sat in the sun at the cabin door.
+
+Christ! And how man's illusions vanish!... One Saturday, as Pascualet
+was coming home from his sweetheart's house, along one of the paths of
+the _huerta_, about midnight, a dog had bitten him; a wretched, silent
+animal that jumped out from behind a sluice; as the young man crouched
+to throw a stone at it, the dog bit into his shoulder. His mother, who
+used to wait for him on the nights when he went courting, burst into
+wailing when she saw the livid semicircle, with its red stain left by
+the dog's teeth, and she bustled about the hut preparing poultices and
+drinks.
+
+The youth laughed at his mother's fears.
+
+"Quiet, mother, quiet!" It wasn't the first time that a dog had bitten
+him. His body still showed faint signs of bites that he had received in
+childhood, when he used to go through the _huerta_ throwing stones at
+the dogs. Old _Caldera_ spoke to him from bed, without displaying any
+emotion. On the following day he was to go to the veterinary and have
+his flesh cauterized by a burning iron. So he ordered, and there was
+nothing further to be said about the matter. The young man submitted
+without flinching to the operation, like a good, brave chap of the
+Valencian _huerta_. He had four days' rest in all, and even at that, his
+fondness for work caused him new sufferings and he aided his father with
+pain-tortured arm. Saturdays, when he came to his sweetheart's
+farmhouse, she always asked after his health. "How's the bite getting
+along?" He would shrug his shoulders gleefully before the eyes of the
+maiden and the two would finally sit down in a corner of the kitchen,
+remaining in mute contemplation of each other, or speaking of the
+clothes and the bed for their future home, without daring to come close
+to each other; there they sat erect and solemn, leaving between their
+bodies a space "wide enough for a sickle to pass through," as the girl's
+father smilingly put it.
+
+More than a month passed by. _Caldera's_ wife was the only one that did
+not forget the accident. She followed her son about with anxious
+glances. Ah, sovereign queen! The _huerta_ seemed to have been abandoned
+by God and His holy mother. Over at Templat's cabin a child was
+suffering the agonies of hell through having been bitten by a mad dog.
+All the _huerta_ folk were running in terror to have a look at the poor
+creature; a spectacle that she herself did not dare to gaze upon because
+she was thinking of her own son. If her Pascualet, as tall and sturdy as
+a tower, were to meet with the same fate as that unfortunate child!...
+
+One day, at dawn, _Caldera's_ son was unable to arise from his kitchen
+bench, and his mother helped him walk to the large nuptial bed, which
+occupied a part of the _estudi_, the best room in the cabin. He was
+feverish, and complained of acute pain in the spot where he had been
+bitten; an awful chill ran through his whole body, making his teeth
+chatter and veiling his eyes with a yellowish opacity. Don Jose, the
+oldest doctor in the _huerta_, came on his ancient mare, with his
+eternal recipe of purgatives for every class of illness, and bandages
+soaked in salt water for wounds. Upon examining the sick man he made a
+wry face. Bad! Bad! This was a more serious matter; they would have to
+go to the solemn doctors in Valencia, who knew more than he. _Caldera's_
+wife saw her husband harness the cart and compel Pascualet to get into
+it. The boy, relieved of his pain, smiled assent, saying that now he
+felt nothing more than a slight twinge. When they returned to the cabin
+the father seemed to be more at ease. A doctor from the city had pricked
+Pascualet's sore. He was a very serious gentleman, who gave Pascualet
+courage with his kind words, looking intently at him all the while, and
+expressing regret that he had waited so long before coming to him. For a
+week the two men made a daily trip to Valencia, but one morning the boy
+was unable to move. That crisis which made the poor mother groan with
+fear had returned with greater intensity than before. The boy's teeth
+knocked together, and he uttered a wail that stained the corners of his
+mouth with froth; his eyes seemed to swell, becoming yellow and
+protruding like huge grape seeds; he tried to pull himself together,
+writhing from the internal torture, and his mother hung upon his neck,
+shrieking with terror; meanwhile _Caldera_, grimly silent, seized his
+son's arms with tranquil strength, struggling to prevent his violent
+convulsions.
+
+"My son! My son!" cried the mother. Ah, her son! Scarcely could she
+recognize him as she saw him in this condition. He seemed like another,
+as if only his former exterior had remained,--as if an infernal monster
+had lodged within and was martyrizing this flesh that had come out of
+her own womb, appearing at his eyes with livid flashes.
+
+Afterwards came calm stupor, and all the women of the district gathered
+in the kitchen and deliberated upon the lot of the sick youth, cursing
+the city doctor and his diabolical incisions. It was his fault that the
+boy now lay thus; before the boy had submitted to the cure he had felt
+much better. The bandit! And the government never punished these wicked
+souls!... There were no other remedies than the old, true and tried
+ones,--the product of the experience of people who had lived years ago
+and thus knew much more. One of the neighbors went off to hunt up a
+certain witch, a miraculous doctor for dog-bites, serpent bites and
+scorpion-stings. Another brought a blind old goatherd, who could cure by
+the virtue of his mouth, simply by making some crosses of saliva over
+the ailing flesh. The drinks made of mountain herbs and the moist signs
+of the goatherd were looked upon as tokens of immediate cure, especially
+when they beheld the sick youth lie silent and motionless for several
+hours, looking at the ground with a certain amazement, as if he could
+feel within him the progress of something strange that grew and grew,
+gradually overpowering him. Then, when the crisis reoccurred, the doubt
+of the women began to rise, and new remedies were discussed. The youth's
+sweetheart came, with her large black eyes moistened by tears, and she
+advanced timidly until she came near to the sick boy. For the first time
+she dared to take his hand, blushing beneath her cinammon-colored
+complexion at this audacious act. "How do you feel?"... And he, so
+loving in other days, recoiled from her tender touch, turning his eyes
+away so that he should not see her, as if ashamed of his plight. His
+mother wept. Queen of heaven! He was very low; he was going to die. If
+only they could find out what dog it was that had bitten him, and cut
+out its tongue, using it for a miraculous plaster, as experienced
+persons advised!...
+
+Throughout the _huerta_ it seemed that God's own wrath had burst forth.
+Some dogs had bitten others; now nobody knew which were the dangerous
+ones and which the safe. All mad! The children were secluded in the
+cabins, spying with terrified glances upon the vast fields, through the
+half-open doors; mothers journeyed over the winding paths in close
+groups, uneasy, trembling, hastening their step whenever a bark sounded
+from behind the sluices of the canals; men eyed the domestic dogs with
+fear, intently watching their slavering mouths as they gasped or their
+sad eyes; the agile greyhound, their hunting companion,--the barking
+cur, guardian of the home,--the ugly mastiff who walked along tied to
+the cart, which he watched over during the master's, absence,--all were
+placed under their owners' observation or coldly sacrificed behind the
+walls of the corral, without any display of emotion whatever.
+
+"Here they come! Here they come!" was the shout passed along from cabin
+to cabin, announcing the patter of a pack of dogs, howling, ravenous,
+their bodies covered with mud, running about without finding rest,
+driven on day and night, with the madness of persecution in their eyes.
+The _huerta_ seemed to shudder, closing the doors of all the houses and
+suddenly bristling with guns. Shots rang out from the sluices, from the
+high corn-fields, from cabin windows, and when the wanderers, repelled
+and persecuted on every side, in their mad gallop dashed toward the sea,
+as if they were attracted by the moist, invigorating air that was washed
+by the waves, the revenue-guards camped on the wide strip of beach
+brought their mausers to their cheek and received them with a volley.
+The dogs retreated, escaping among the men who were approaching them
+musket in hand, and one or another of them would be stretched out at the
+edge of a canal. At night, the noisy gloom of the plain was broken by
+the sight of distant flashes and the sound of discharges. Every shape
+that moved in the darkness was the target for a bullet; the muffled
+howls that sounded in the vicinity of the cabins were answered by shots.
+The men were afraid of this common terror, and avoided meeting.
+
+No sooner did night fall than the _huerta_ was left without a light,
+without a person upon the roads, as if death had taken possession of the
+dismal plain, so green and smiling under the sun. A single red spot, a
+tear of light, trembled in this obscurity. It was _Caldera's_ cabin,
+where the women, squatting upon the floor, around the kitchen lamp,
+sighed with fright, anticipating the strident shriek of the sick
+youth,--the chattering of his teeth, the violent contortions of his body
+whenever he was seized with convulsions, struggling to repel the arms
+that tried to quiet him.
+
+The mother hung upon the neck of that raving patient who struck terror
+to men. She scarcely knew him; he was somebody else, with those eyes
+that popped out of their sockets, his livid or blackish countenance, his
+writhings, like that of a tortured animal, showing his tongue as he
+gasped through bubbles of froth in the agonies of an insatiable thirst.
+He begged for death in heart-rending shrieks; he struck his head against
+the wall; he tried to bite; but even so, he was her child and she did
+not feel the fear experienced by the others. His menacing mouth withdrew
+before the wan face that was moistened with tears. "Mother! Mother!" He
+recognized her in his lucid moments. She need not fear him; he would
+never bite her. And as if he must sink his teeth into something or other
+to glut his rage, he bit into his arms until the blood came.
+
+"My son! My son!" moaned the mother and she wiped the deadly froth from
+his lips, afterwards carrying the handkerchief to her eyes, without fear
+of contagion. _Caldera_, in his solemn gravity, paid no heed to the
+sufferer's threatening eyes, which were fixed upon him with an impulse
+of attack. The boy had lost his awe of his father.
+
+That powerful man, however, facing the peril of his son's mouth, thrust
+him back into bed whenever the madman tried to flee, as if he must
+spread everywhere the horrible affliction that was devouring his
+entrails.
+
+No longer were the crises followed by extended intervals of calm. They
+became almost continuous, and the victim writhed about, clawed and
+bleeding from his own bites, his face almost black, his eyes tremulous
+and yellow, looking like some monstrous beast set apart from all the
+human species. The old doctor had stopped asking about the youth. What
+was the use? It was all over. The women wept hopelessly. Death was
+certain. They only bewailed the long hours, perhaps days, of horrible
+torture that poor Pascualet would have to undergo.
+
+_Caldera_ was unable to find among his relatives or friends any men
+brave enough to help him restrain the sufferer in his violent moments.
+They all looked with terror at the door to the _estudi_, as if behind it
+were concealed the greatest of dangers. To go shooting through roads and
+canals was man's work. A stab could be returned; one bullet could answer
+another; but ah! that frothing mouth which killed with a bite!... that
+incurable disease which made men writhe in endless agony, like a lizard
+sliced by a hoe!
+
+He no longer knew his mother. In his final moments of lucidity he had
+thrust her away with loving brusqueness. She must go!... Let him not see
+her again!... He feared to do her harm! The poor woman's friends dragged
+her out of the room, forcing her to remain motionless, like her son, in
+a corner of the kitchen. _Caldera_, with a supreme effort of his dying
+will, tied the agonizing youth to the bed. His beetling brows trembled
+and the tears made him blink as he tied the coarse knots of the rope,
+fastening the youth to the bed upon which he had been born. He felt as
+if he were preparing his son for burial and had begun to dig his grave.
+The victim twisted in wild contortions under the father's strong arms;
+the parent had to make a powerful effort to subdue him under the rope
+that sank into his flesh.... To have lived so many years only to behold
+himself at last obliged to perform such a task! To give life to a
+creature, only to pray that it might be extinguished as soon as
+possible, horrified by so much useless pain!... Good God in heaven! Why
+not put an end to the poor boy at once, since his death was now
+inevitable?...
+
+He closed the door of the sick room, fleeing from the rasping shriek
+that set everybody's hair on end; but the madman's panting continued to
+sound in the silence of the cabin, accompanied by the lamentations of
+the mother and the weeping of the other women grouped around the lamp,
+that had just been lighted.
+
+_Caldera_ stamped upon the floor. Let the women be silent! But for the
+first time he beheld himself disobeyed, and he left the cabin, fleeing
+from this chorus of grief.
+
+Night descended. His gaze wandered toward the thin yellow band that was
+visible on the horizon, marking the flight of day. Above his head shone
+the stars. From the other homes, which were scarcely visible, resounded
+the neighing of horses, barking and the clucking of fowl,--the last
+signs of animal life before it sank to rest. That primitive man felt an
+impression of emptiness amid the Nature which was insensible and blind
+to the sufferings of its creatures. Of what concern to the points of
+light that looked down upon him from above could be that which he was
+now going through?... All creatures were equal; the beasts that
+disturbed the silence of dusk before falling asleep, and that poor youth
+similar to him, who now lay fettered, writhing in the worst of agony.
+How many illusions his life had contained!... And with a mere bite, a
+wretched animal kicked about by all men could finish them all. And no
+remedy existed in heaven or upon earth!...
+
+Once again the distant shriek of the sufferer came to his ears from the
+open window of the _estudi_. The tenderness of his early days of
+paternity emerged from the depths of his soul. He recalled the nights he
+had spent awake in that room, walking up and down, holding in his arms
+the little child that was crying from the pains of infancy's illness.
+Now he lay crying, too, but without hope, in the agonies of a hell that
+had come before its time, and at last... death. His countenance grew
+frightened, and he raised his hands to his forehead as if trying to
+drive away a troublesome thought. Then he appeared to deliberate.... Why
+not?...
+
+"To end his suffering... to end his suffering!"
+
+He went back to the cabin, only to come out at once with his old
+double-barrelled musket, and he hastened to the little window of the
+sick room as if he feared to lose his determination; he thrust the gun
+through the opening.
+
+Again he heard the agonizing panting, the chattering of teeth, the
+horrible shriek, now very near, as if he were at the victim's bedside.
+His eyes, accustomed to the darkness saw the bed at the back of the
+gloomy room, and the form that lay writhing in it,--the pale spot of the
+face, appearing and disappearing as the sick man twisted about
+desperately.
+
+The father was frightened at the trembling of his hands and the
+agitation of his pulse; he, the son of the _huerta_, without any other
+diversion than the hunt, accustomed to shoot down birds almost without
+aiming at them.
+
+The wailing of the poor mother brought back to his memory other groans
+of long long ago,--twenty-two years before--when she was giving birth to
+her only son upon that same bed.
+
+To come to such an end!... His eyes, gazing heavenward, saw a black sky,
+intensely black, with not a star in sight, and obscured by his tears....
+
+"Lord! To end his sufferings! To end his sufferings!"
+
+And repeating these words he pressed the musket against his shoulder,
+seeking the lock with a tremulous finger.... Bang! Bang!
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+THE WINDFALL
+
+
+"I SIR," said _Magdalena_, the bugler of the prison, "am no saint; I've
+been jailed many times for robberies; some of them that really took
+place and others that I was simply suspected of. Compared to you, who
+are a gentleman, and are in prison for having written things in the
+papers, I'm a mere wretch.... But take my word for it, this time I'm
+here for good."
+
+And raising one hand to his breast as he straightened his head with a
+certain pride, he added, "Petty thefts, that's all I'm not brave; I
+haven't shed a drop of blood."
+
+At break of day, _Magdalena's_ bugle resounded through the spacious
+yard, embroidering its reveille with scales and trills. During the day,
+with the martial instrument hanging from his neck, or caressing it with
+a corner of his smock so as to wipe off the vapor with which the
+dampness of the prison covered it, he would go through the entire
+edifice,--an ancient convent in whose refectories, granaries and garrets
+there were crowded, in perspiring confusion, almost a thousand men.
+
+He was the clock that governed the life and the activities of this mass
+of male flesh perpetually seething with hatred. He made the round of the
+cells to announce, with sonorous blasts, the arrival of the worthy
+director, or a visit from the authorities; from the progress of the sun
+along the white walls of the prison-yard he could tell the approach of
+the visiting hours,--the best part of the day,--and with his tongue
+stuck between his lips he would await orders impatiently, ready to burst
+into the joyous signal that sent the flock of prisoners scampering over
+the stairways in an anxious run toward the locutories, where a wretched
+crowd of women and children buzzed in conversation; his insatiable
+hunger kept him pacing back and forth in the vicinity of the old
+kitchen, in which the enormous stews filled the atmosphere with a
+nauseating odor, and he bemoaned the indifference of the chef, who was
+always late in giving the order for the mess-call.
+
+Those imprisoned for crimes of blood, heroes of the dagger who had
+killed their man in a fierce brawl or in a dispute over a woman and who
+formed an aristocracy that disdained the petty thieves, looked upon the
+bugler as the butt for pranks with which to while away their boredom.
+
+"Blow!" would come the command from some formidable fellow, proud of his
+crimes and his courage.
+
+And _Magdalena_ would draw himself up with military rigidity, close his
+mouth and inflate his cheeks, momentarily expecting two blows, delivered
+simultaneously by both hands, to expel the air from the ruddy globe of
+his face. At other times these redoubtable personages tested the
+strength of their arms upon _Magdalena's_ pate, which was bare with the
+baldness of repugnant diseases, and they would howl with laughter at the
+damage done to their fists by the protuberances of the hard skull. The
+bugler lent himself to these tortures with the humility of a whipped
+dog, and found a certain revenge in repeating, afterwards, those words
+that were a solace to him:
+
+"I'm good; I'm not a brave fellow. Petty thefts, that's all.... But as
+to blood, not a single drop."
+
+Visiting time brought his wife, the notorious _Peluchona_, a valiant
+creature who inspired him with great fear. She was the mistress of one
+of the most dangerous bandits in the jail. Daily she brought that fellow
+food, procuring these dainties at the cost of all manner of vile labors.
+The bugler, upon beholding her, would leave the lucutory, fearing the
+arrogance of her bandit mate, who would take advantage of the occasion
+to humiliate him before his former companion. Many times a certain
+feeling of curiosity and tenderness got the better of his fear, and he
+would advance timidly, looking beyond the thick bars for the head of a
+child that came with _la Peluchona_.
+
+"That's my son, sir," he said, humbly. "My Tonico, who no longer knows
+me or remembers me. They say that he doesn't resemble me at all. Perhaps
+he's not mine.... You can imagine, with the life his mother has always
+led, living near the garrisons, washing the soldiers' clothes!... But he
+was born in my home; I held him in my arms when he was ill, and that's a
+bond as close as ties of blood."
+
+Then he would resume his timid lurking about the locutory, as if
+preparing one of his robberies, to see his Tonico; and when he could see
+him for a moment, the sight was enough to extinguish his helpless rage
+before the full basket of lunch that the evil woman brought to her
+lover.
+
+_Magdalena's_ whole existence was summed up in two facts; he had robbed
+and he had travelled much. The robberies were insignificant; clothes or
+money snatched in the street, because he lacked courage for greater
+deeds. His travels had been compulsory,--always on foot, over the roads
+of Spain, marching in a chain gang of convicts, between the polished or
+white three-cornered hats that guarded the prisoners.
+
+After having been a "pupil" among the buglers of a regiment, he had
+launched upon this life of continuous imprisonment, punctuated by brief
+periods of freedom, in which he lost his bearings, not knowing what to
+do with himself and wishing to return as soon as possible to jail. It
+was the perpetual chain, but finished link by link, as he used to say.
+
+The police never organized a round-up of dangerous persons but what
+_Magdalena_ was found among them,--a timorous rat whose name the papers
+mentioned like that of a terrible criminal. He was always included in
+the trail of vagrant suspects who, without being charged with any
+specific crime, were sent from province to province by the authorities,
+in the hope that they would die of hunger along the roads, and thus he
+had covered the whole peninsula on foot, from Cadiz to Santander, from
+Valencia to La Coruńa. With what enthusiasm he recalled his travels! He
+spoke of them as if they were joyous excursions, just like a wandering
+charity-student of the old _Tuna_ converting his tales into courses in
+picturesque geography. With hungry delight he recollected the abundant
+milk of Galicia, the red sausages of Extramadura, the Castilian bread,
+the Basque apples, the wines and ciders of all the districts he had
+traversed, with his luggage on his shoulder. Guards were changed every
+day,--some of them kind or indifferent, others ill-humored and cruel,
+who made all the prisoners fear a couple of shots fired beyond the ruts
+of the road, followed by the papers justifying the killing as having
+been caused by an attempt at flight. With a certain nostalgia he evoked
+the memory of mountains covered with snow or reddened and striped by the
+sun; the slow procession along the white road that was lost in the
+horizon, like an endless ribbon; the highlands, under the trees, in the
+hot noon hours; the storms that assailed them upon the highways;
+inundated ravines that forced them to camp out in the open; the arrival,
+late at night, at certain town prisons, old convenes or abandoned
+churches, in which every man hunted up a dry corner, protected from
+draughts, where he could stretch his mat; the endless journey with all
+the calm of a purposeless procession; the long halts in spots where life
+was so monotonous that the presence of a group of prisoners was an
+event; the urchins would come running up to the bars to speak with them,
+while the girls, impelled by morbid curiosity, would approach within a
+short distance, to hear their songs and their obscene language.
+
+"Some mighty interesting travels, sir," continued the robber. "For those
+of us who had good health and didn't drop by the roadside it was the
+same as a strolling band of students. Now and then a drubbing, but who
+pays any attention to such things!... They don't have these
+_conductions_ now; prisoners are transported by railroad, caged up in
+the cars. Besides, I am held for a criminal offense, and I must live
+inside the walls... jailed for good."
+
+And again he began to lament his bad luck, relating the final deed that
+had landed him in jail.
+
+It was a suffocating Sunday in July; an afternoon in which the streets
+of Valencia seemed to be deserted, under the burning sun and a wind like
+a furnace blast that came from the baked plains of the interior.
+Everybody was at the bull-fight or at the seashore. _Magdalena_ was
+approached by his friend _Chamorra_, an old prison and traveling
+companion, who exercised a certain influence over him. That _Chamorra_
+was a bad soul! A thief, but of the sort that go the limit, not
+recoiling before the necessity of shedding blood and with his knife
+always handy beside his skeleton-keys. It was a matter of cleaning out a
+certain house, upon which this fearful fellow had set his eye.
+_Magdalena_ modestly excused himself. He wasn't made for such things; he
+couldn't go so far. As for gliding up to a roof and pulling down the
+clothes that had been hung out to dry, or snatching a woman's purse with
+a quick pull and making off with it... all right. But to break into a
+house, and face the mystery of a dwelling, in which the people might be
+at home?...
+
+But _Chamorra's_ threatening look inspired him with greater fear than
+did the anticipation of such an encounter, and he finally consented.
+Very well; he would go as an assistant,--to carry the spoils, but ready
+to flee at the slightest alarm. And he refused to accept an old
+jack-knife that his companion offered him. He was consistent.
+
+"Petty thefts aplenty; but as to blood, not a single drop."
+
+Late in the afternoon they entered the narrow vestibule of a house that
+had no janitor, and whose inhabitants were all away. _Chamorra_ knew his
+victim; a comfortably fixed artisan who must have a neat little pile
+saved up. He was surely at the beach with his wife or at the bull-fight.
+Above, the door of the apartment yielded easily, and the two companions
+began to work in the gloom of the shuttered windows.
+
+_Chamorra_ forced the locks of two chiffoniers and a closet. There was
+silver coin, copper coin, several bank-notes rolled up at the bottom of
+a fan-case, the wedding-jewelry, a clock. Not a bad haul. His anxious
+looks wandered over the place, seeking to make off with everything that
+could be carried. He lamented the uselessness of _Magdalena_, who,
+restless with fear and with his arms hanging limp at his sides, was
+pacing to and fro without knowing what to do.
+
+"Take the quilts," ordered _Chamorra_, "We're sure to get something for
+the wool."
+
+And _Magdalena_, eager to finish the job as soon as possible, penetrated
+into the dark alcove, gropingly passing a rope underneath the quilts and
+the bed-sheets. Then, aided by his friend, he hurriedly made a bundle of
+everything, casting the voluminous burden upon his shoulders.
+
+They left without being detected, and walked off in the direction of the
+outskirts of the town, towards a shanty of Arrancapinos, where
+_Chamorra_ had his haunt. The latter walked ahead, ready to run at the
+first sign of danger; _Magdalena_ followed, trotting along, almost
+hidden beneath the tremendous load, fearing to feel at any moment the
+hand of the police upon his neck.
+
+Upon examining the proceeds of the robbery in the remote corral,
+_Chamorra_ exhibited the arrogance of a lion, granting his accomplice a
+few copper coins. This must be enough for the moment. He did this for
+_Magdalena's_ own good, as _Magdalena_ was such a spendthrift. Later he
+would give more.
+
+Then they untied the bundle of quilts, and _Chamorra_ bent over, his
+hands on his hips, exploding with laughter. What a find!... What a
+present!
+
+_Magdalena_ likewise burst into guffaws, for the first time that
+afternoon. Upon the bed-clothes lay an infant, dressed only in a little
+shirt, its eyes shut and its face purple from suffocation, but moving
+its chest with difficulty at feeling the first caress of fresh air.
+_Magdalena_ recalled the vague sensation he had experienced during his
+journey hither,--that of something alive moving inside the thick load on
+his back. A weak, suffocated whining pursued him in his flight.... The
+mother had left the little one asleep in the cool darkness of the
+alcove, and they, without knowing it, had carried it off together with
+the bed-clothes.
+
+_Magdalena's_ frightened eyes now looked questioningly at his companion.
+What were they to do with the child?... But that evil soul was laughing
+away like a very demon.
+
+"It's yours; I present it to you.... Eat it with potatoes."
+
+And he went off with all the spoils. _Magdalena_ was left standing in
+doubt, while he cradled the child in his arms. The poor little thing!...
+It looked just like his own Tono, when he sang him to sleep; just like
+him when he was ill and leaned his little head upon his father's bosom,
+while the parent wept, fearing for the child's life. The same little
+soft, pink feet; the same downy flesh, with skin as soft as silk.... The
+infant had ceased to cry, looking with surprised eyes at the robber, who
+was caressing it like a nurse.
+
+"Lullaby, my poor little thing! There, there, my little king... child
+Jesus! Look at me. I'm your uncle."
+
+But _Magdalena_ stopped laughing, thinking of the mother, of her
+desperate grief when she would return to the house. The loss of her
+little fortune would be her least concern. The child! Where was she to
+find her child?... He knew what mothers were like. _Peluchona_ was the
+worst of women, yet he had seen even her weep and moan before her little
+one in danger.
+
+He gazed toward the sun, which was beginning to sink in a majestic
+summer sunset. There was still time to take the infant back to the house
+before its parents would return. And if he should encounter them, he
+would lie, saying that he had found the infant in the middle of the
+street; he would extricate himself as well as he could. Forward; he had
+never felt so brave.
+
+Carrying the infant in his arms he walked at ease through the very
+streets over which he had lately hastened with the anxious gait of fear.
+He mounted the staircase without encountering anybody. Above, the same
+solitude. The door was still open, the bolt forced. Within, the
+disordered rooms, the broken furniture, the drawers upon the floor, the
+overturned chairs and clothes strewn about, filled him with a sensation
+of terror similar to that which assails the assassin who returns to
+contemplate the corpse of his victim some time after the crime.
+
+He gave a last fond kiss to the child and left it upon the bed.
+
+"Good-bye, my pet!"
+
+But as he approached the head of the staircase he heard footsteps, and
+in the rectangle of light that entered through the open door there
+bulked the silhouette of a corpulent man. At the same time there rang
+out the shrill shriek of a female voice, trembling with fright:
+
+"Robbers!... Help!"
+
+_Magdalena_ tried to escape, opening a passage for himself with his head
+lowered, like a cornered rat; but he felt himself seized by a pair of
+Cyclopean arms, accustomed to beating iron, and with a mighty thrust he
+was sent rolling down the stairs.
+
+On his face there were still signs of the bruises he had received from
+contact with the steps, and from the blows rained upon him by the
+infuriated neighbors.
+
+"In sum, sir. Breaking and entering. I'll get out in heaven knows how
+many years.... All for being kind-hearted. To make matters worse, they
+don't even give me any consideration, looking upon me as a clever
+criminal. Everybody knows that the real thief was _Chamorra_ whom I
+haven't seen since.... And they ridicule me for a silly fool."
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+THE LAST LION
+
+
+SCARCELY had the meeting of the honorable guild of _blanquers_ come to
+order within its chapel near the towers of Serranos, when Seńor Vicente
+asked for the floor. He was the oldest tanner in Valencia. Many masters
+recalled their apprentice days and declared that he was the same now as
+then, with his white, brush-like mustache, his face that looked like a
+sun of wrinkles, his aggressive eyes and cadaverous thinness, as if all
+the sap of his life had been consumed in the daily motions of his feet
+and hands about the vats of the tannery.
+
+He was the only representative of the guild's glories, the sole survivor
+of those _blanquers_ who were an honor to Valencian history. The
+grandchildren of his former companions had become corrupted with the
+march of time; they were proprietors of large establishments, with
+thousands of workmen, but they would be lost if they ever had to tan a
+skin with their soft, business-man's hands. Only he could call himself a
+_blanquer_ of the old school, working every day in his little hut near
+the guild house; master and toiler at the same time, with no other
+assistants than his sons and grandchildren; his workshop was of the old
+kind, amid sweet domestic surroundings, with neither threats of strikes
+nor quarrels over the day's pay.
+
+The centuries had raised the level of the street, converting Seńor
+Vicente's shop into a gloomy cave. The door through which his ancestors
+had entered had grown smaller and smaller from the bottom until it had
+become little more than a window. Five stairs connected the street with
+the damp floor of the tannery, and above, near a pointed arch, a relic
+of medieval Valencia, floated like banners the skins that had been hung
+up to dry, wafting about the unbearable odor of the leather. The old man
+by no means envied the _moderns_, in their luxuriously appointed
+business offices. Surely they blushed with shame on passing through his
+lane and seeing him, at breakfast hour, taking the sun,--his sleeves and
+trousers rolled up, showing his thin arms and legs, stained red,--with
+the pride of a robust old age that permitted him to battle daily with
+the hides.
+
+Valencia was preparing to celebrate the centenary of one of its famous
+saints, and the guild of _blanquers_, like the other historic guilds,
+wished to make its contribution to the festivities. Seńor Vicente, with
+the prestige of his years, imposed his will upon all the masters. The
+_blanquers_ should remain what they were. All the glories of their past,
+long sequestrated in the chapel, must figure in the procession. And it
+was high time they were displayed in public! His gaze, wandering about
+the chapel, seemed to caress the guild's relics; the sixteenth century
+drums, as large as jars, that preserved within their drumheads the
+hoarse cries of revolutionary Germania; the great lantern of carved
+wood, torn from the prow of a galley; the red silk banner of the guild,
+edged with gold that had become greenish through the ages.
+
+All this must be displayed during the celebration, shaking off the dust
+of oblivion; even the famous lion of the _blanquers_!
+
+The _moderns_ burst into impious laughter. The lion, too?... Yes, the
+lion, too. To Seńor Vicente it seemed a dishonor on the part of the
+guild to forget that glorious beast. The ancient ballads, the accounts
+of celebrations that might be read in the city archives, the old folks
+who had lived in the splendid epoch of the guilds with their fraternal
+camaraderie,--all spoke of the _blanquers_' lion; but now nobody knew
+the animal, and this was a shame for the trade, a loss to the city.
+
+Their lion was as great a glory as the silk mart or the well of San
+Vicente. He knew very well the reason for this opposition on the part of
+the _moderns_. They feared to assume the rôle of the lion. Never fear,
+my young fellows! He, with his burden of years, that numbered more than
+seventy, would claim this honor. It belonged to him in all justice; his
+father, his grandfather, his countless ancestors, had all been lions,
+and he felt equal to coming to blows with anybody who would dare dispute
+his right to the rôle of the lion, traditional in his family.
+
+With what enthusiasm Seńor Vicente related the history of the lion and
+the heroic _blanquers_! One day the Barbary pirates from Bujia had
+landed at Torreblanca, just beyond Castellón, and sacked the church,
+carrying off the Shrine. This happened a little before the time of Saint
+Vicente Ferrer, for the old tanner had no other way of explaining
+history than by dividing it into two periods; before and after the
+Saint... The population, which was scarcely moved by the raids of the
+pirates, hearing of the abduction of pale maidens with large black eyes
+and plump figures, destined for the harem, as if this were an inevitable
+misfortune, broke into cries of grief upon learning of the sacrilege at
+Torreblanca.
+
+The churches of the town were draped in black; people went through the
+streets wailing loudly, striking themselves as a punishment. What could
+those dogs do with the blessed Host? What would become of the poor,
+defenseless Shrine?... Then it was that the valiant _blanquers_ came
+upon the scene. Was not the Shrine at Bujia? Then on to Bujia in quest
+of it! They reasoned like heroes accustomed to beating hides all day
+long, and they saw nothing formidable about beating the enemies of God.
+At their own expense they fitted out a galley and the whole guild went
+aboard, carrying along their beautiful banner; the other guilds, and
+indeed the entire town, followed this example and chartered other
+vessels.
+
+The Justice himself cast aside his scarlet gown and covered himself with
+mail from head to foot; the worthy councilmen abandoned the benches of
+the Golden Chamber, shielding their paunches with scales that shone like
+those of the fishes in the gulf; the hundred archers of la Pluma, who
+guarded _la Seńera_ filled their quivers with arrows, and the Jews from
+the quarter of la Xedrea did a rushing business, selling all their old
+iron, including lances, notched swords and rusty corselets, in exchange
+for good, ringing pieces of silver.
+
+And off sped the Valencian galleys, with their jib-sails spread to the
+wind, convoyed by a shoal of dolphins, which sported about in the foam
+of their prows!... When the Moors beheld them approaching, the infidels
+began to tremble, repenting of their irreverence toward the Shrine. And
+this, despite the fact that they were a set of hardened old dogs.
+Valencians, headed by the valiant _blanquers_! Who, indeed, would dare
+face them!
+
+The battle raged for several days and nights, according to the tale of
+Seńor Vicente. Reinforcements of Moors arrived, but the Valencians,
+loyal and fierce, fought to the death. And they were already beginning
+to feel exhausted from the labor of disembowelling so many infidels,
+when behold, from a neighboring mountain a lion comes walking down on
+his hind paws, for all the world like a regular person, carrying in his
+forepaws, most reverently, the Shrine,--the Shrine that had been stolen
+from Torreblanca! The beast delivered it ceremoniously into the hands of
+one of the guild, undoubtedly an ancestor of Seńor Vicente, and hence
+for centuries his family had possessed the privilege of representing
+that amiable animal in the Valencian processions.
+
+Then he shook his mane, emitted a roar, and with blows and bites in
+every direction cleared the field instantly of Moors.
+
+The Valencians sailed for home, carrying the Shrine back like a trophy.
+The chief of the _blanquers_ saluted the lion, courteously offering him
+the guild house, near the towers of Serranos, which he could consider as
+his own. Many thanks; the beast was accustomed to the sun of Africa and
+feared a change of climate.
+
+But the trade was not ungrateful, and to perpetuate the happy
+recollection of the shaggy-maned friend whom they possessed on the other
+shore of the sea, every time the guild banner floated in the Valencian
+celebrations, there marched behind it an ancestor of Seńor Vicente, to
+the sound of drums, and he was covered with hide, with a mask that was
+the living image of the worthy lion, bearing in his hands a Shrine of
+wood, so small and poor that it caused one to doubt the genuine value of
+Torreblanca's own Shrine.
+
+Perverse and irreverent persons even dared to affirm, to the great
+indignation of Seńor Vicente, that the whole story was a lie. Sheer
+envy! Ill will of the other trades, which couldn't point to such a
+glorious history! There was the guild chapel as proof, and in it the
+lantern from the prow of the vessel, which the conscienceless wretches
+declared dated from many centuries after the supposed battle; and there
+were the guild drums, and the glorious banner; and the moth-eaten hide
+of the lion, in which all his predecessors had encased themselves, lay
+now forgotten behind the altar, covered with cobwebs and dust, but it
+was none the less as authentic and worthy of reverence as the stones of
+el Miguelete.[1]
+
+[Note 1: A belfry in Valencia.]
+
+And above all there was his faith, ardent and incontrovertible, capable
+of receiving as an affront to the family the slightest irreverence
+toward the African lion, the illustrious friend of the guild.
+
+The procession took place on an afternoon in June. The sons, the
+daughters-in-law and the grandsons of Seńor Vicente helped him to get
+into the costume of the lion, perspiring most uncomfortably at the mere
+touch of that red-stained wool. "Father, you're going to
+roast."--"Grandpa, you'll melt inside of this costume."
+
+The old man, however, deaf to the warnings of the family, shook his
+moth-eaten mane with pride, thinking of his ancestors; then he tried on
+the terrifying mask, a cardboard arrangement that imitated, with a faint
+resemblance, the countenance of the wild beast.
+
+What a triumphant afternoon! The streets crowded with spectators; the
+balconies decorated with bunting, and upon them rows of variegated
+bonnets shading fair faces from the sun; the ground covered with myrtle,
+forming a green, odorous carpet whose perfume seemed to expand the
+lungs.
+
+The procession was headed by the standard-bearers, with beards of hemp,
+crowns and striped dalmatics, holding aloft the Valencian banners
+adorned with enormous bats and large L's beside the coat of arms; then,
+to the sound of the flageolet, the retinue of brave Indians, shepherds
+from Belen, Catalans and Mallorcans; following these passed the dwarfs
+with their monstrously huge heads, clicking the castanets to the rhythm
+of a Moorish march; behind these came the giants of the Corpus and at
+the end, the banners of the guilds; an endless row of red standards,
+faded with the years, and so tall that their tops reached higher than
+the first stories of the buildings.
+
+Flom! Rotoplom! rolled the drums of the _blanquers_,--instruments of
+barbarous sonority, so large that their weight forced the drummers to
+bow their necks. Flom! Rotoplom! they resounded, hoarse and menacing,
+with savage solemnity, as if they were still marking the tread of the
+revolutionary German regiments, sallying forth to the encounter with the
+emperor's young leader,--that Don Juan of Aragón, duke of Segorbe, who
+served Victor Hugo as the model for his romantic personage _Hernani_!
+Flom! Rotoplom! The people ran for good places and jostled one another
+to obtain a better view of the guild members, bursting into laughter and
+shouts. What was that? A monkey?... A wild man?... Ah! The faith of the
+past was truly laughable.
+
+The young members of the trade, their shirts open at the neck and their
+sleeves rolled up, took turns at carrying the heavy banner, performing
+feats of jugglery, balancing it on the palms of their hands or upon
+their teeth, to the rhythm of the drums.
+
+The wealthy masters had the honor of holding the cords of the banner,
+and behind them marched the lion, the glorious lion of the guild, who
+was now no longer known. Nor did the lion march in careless fashion; he
+was dignified, as the old traditions bade him be, and as Seńor Vicente
+had seen his father march, and as the latter had seen his grandfather;
+he kept time with the drums, bowing at every step, to right and to left,
+moving the Shrine fan-wise, like a polite and well-bred beast who knows
+the respect due to the public.
+
+The farmers who had come to the celebration opened their eyes in
+amazement; the mothers pointed him out with their fingers so that the
+children might see him; but the youngsters, frowning, tightened their
+grasp upon their mothers' necks, hiding their faces to shed tears of
+terror.
+
+When the banner halted, the glorious lion had to defend himself with his
+hind paws against the disrespectful swarm of gamins that surrounded him,
+trying to tear some locks out of his moth-eaten mane. At other times the
+beast looked up at the balconies to salute the pretty girls with the
+Shrine; they laughed at the grotesque figure. And Seńor Vicente did
+wisely; however much of a lion one may be, one must be gallant toward
+the fair sex.
+
+The spectators fanned themselves, trying to find a momentary coolness in
+the burning atmosphere; the _horchateros_[2] bustled among the crowds
+shouting their wares, called from all directions at once and not knowing
+whither to go first; the standard-bearers and the drummers wiped the
+sweat off their faces at every restaurant door, and at last went inside
+to seek refreshment.
+
+[Note 2: Vendors of _horchata_, iced orgeat.]
+
+But the lion stuck to his post. His mask became soft; he walked with a
+certain weariness, letting the Shrine rest upon his stomach, having by
+this time lost all desire to bow to the public.
+
+Fellow tanners approached him with jesting questions.
+
+"How are things going, _so Visent?"_
+
+And _so Visent_ roared indignantly from the interior of his cardboard
+disguise. How should things go? Very well. He was able to keep it up,
+without failing in his part, even if the parade continued for three
+days. As for getting tired, leave that to the young folks. And drawing
+himself proudly erect, he resumed his bows, marking time with his
+swaying Shrine of wood.
+
+The procession lasted three hours. When the guild banner returned to the
+Cathedral night was beginning to fall.
+
+Plom! Retoplom! The glorious banner of the _blanquers_ returned to its
+guild house behind the drums. The myrtle on the streets had disappeared
+beneath the feet of the paraders. Now the ground was covered with drops
+of wax, rose leaves and strips of tinsel. The liturgic perfume of
+incense floated through the air. Plom! Retoplom! The drums were tired;
+the strapping youths who had carried the standards were now panting,
+having lost all desire to perform balancing tricks; the rich masters
+clutched the cords of the banner tightly, as if the latter were towing
+them along, and they complained of their new shoes and their bunions;
+but the lion, the weary lion (ah, swaggering beast!), who at times
+seemed on the point of falling to the ground, still had strength left to
+rise on his hind paws and frighten the suburban couples, who pulled at a
+string of children that had been dazzled by the sights.
+
+A lie! Pure conceit! Seńor Vicente knew what it felt like to be inside
+of the lion's hide. But nobody is obliged to take the part of the lion,
+and he who assumes it must stick it out to the bitter end.
+
+Once home, he sank upon the sofa like a bundle of wool; his sons,
+daughters-in-law and grandchildren hastened to remove the mask from his
+face. They could scarcely recognize him, so congested and scarlet were
+his features, which seemed to spurt water from every line of his
+wrinkles.
+
+They tried to remove his skins; but the beast was oppressed by a
+different desire, begging in a suffocated voice. He wished a drink; he
+was choking with the heat. The family, warning against illness,
+protested in vain. The deuce! He desired a drink right away. And who
+would dare resist an infuriated lion?...
+
+From the nearest café they brought him some ice-cream in a blue cup; a
+Valencian ice cream, honey-sweet and grateful to the nostrils,
+glistening with drops of white juice at the conical top.
+
+But what are ice creams to a lion! _Haaam_! He swallowed it at a single
+gulp, as if it were a mere trifle! His thirst and the heat assailed him
+anew, and he roared for other refreshment.
+
+The family, for reasons of economy, thought of the _horchata_ from a
+near-by restaurant. They would see; let a full jar of it be brought. And
+Seńor Vicente drank and drank until it was unnecessary to remove the
+skins from him. Why? Because an attack of double pneumonia finished him
+inside of a few hours. The glorious, shaggy-haired _uniform_ of the
+family served him as a shroud.
+
+Thus died the lion of the _blanquers_,--the last lion of Valencia.
+
+And the fact is that _horchata_ is fatal for beasts.... Pure poison!
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Luna Benamor, by Vicente Blasco Ibáńez
+
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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Luna Benamor, by Vicente Blasco Ibáńez.
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+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Luna Benamor, by Vicente Blasco Ibáńez
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Luna Benamor
+
+Author: Vicente Blasco Ibáńez
+
+Translator: Isaac Goldberg
+
+Release Date: June 19, 2007 [EBook #21870]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LUNA BENAMOR ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chuck Greif
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<hr />
+<h1>LUNA BENAMOR</h1>
+
+<h3>BY</h3>
+
+<h2>VICENTE BLASCO IB&Aacute;&Ntilde;EZ</h2>
+
+<p class="c"><span class="smcap">translated from the original spanish by</span></p>
+
+<p class="c">ISAAC GOLDBERG</p>
+
+<p class="c">JOHN W. LUCE &amp; COMPANY</p>
+
+<p class="c">BOSTON 1919</p>
+
+<hr />
+<h2><a name="toc" id="toc"></a>CONTENTS</h2>
+<table summary="toc">
+<tr><td>
+<a href="#LUNA_BENAMOR"><b>LUNA BENAMOR</b></a><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<a href="#I"><b>I, </b></a>
+<a href="#II"><b>II, </b></a>
+<a href="#III"><b>III, </b></a>
+<a href="#IV"><b>IV</b></a><br />
+<a href="#THE_TOAD"><b>THE TOAD</b></a><br />
+<a href="#COMPASSION"><b>COMPASSION</b></a><br />
+<a href="#LUXURY"><b>LUXURY</b></a><br />
+<a href="#RABIES"><b>RABIES</b></a><br />
+<a href="#THE_WINDFALL"><b>THE WINDFALL</b></a><br />
+<a href="#THE_LAST_LION"><b>THE LAST LION</b></a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<hr />
+<h2 class="f"><a name="LUNA_BENAMOR" id="LUNA_BENAMOR"></a><a href="#toc">LUNA BENAMOR</a></h2>
+
+<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a><a href="#toc">I</a></h2>
+
+
+<p class="n"><span class="dropcap">L</span><span style="margin-left: -2.5%;">U</span>IS AGUIRRE had been living in Gibraltar for about a month. He had
+arrived with the intention of sailing at once upon a vessel bound for
+Oceanica, where he was to assume his post as a consul to Australia. It
+was the first important voyage of his diplomatic career. Up to that time
+he had served in Madrid, in the offices of the Ministry, or in various
+consulates of southern France, elegant summery places where for half the
+year life was a continuous holiday. The son of a family that had been
+dedicated to diplomacy by tradition, he enjoyed the protection of
+influential persons. His parents were dead, but he was helped by his
+relatives and the prestige of a name that for a century had figured in
+the archives of the nation. Consul at the age of twenty-five, he was
+about to set sail with the illusions of a student who goes out into the
+world for the first time, feeling that all previous trips have been
+insignificant.</p>
+
+<p>Gibraltar, incongruous and exotic, a mixture of races and languages, was
+to him the first sign of the far-off world in quest of which he was
+journeying. He doubted, in his first surprise, if this rocky land
+jutting into the open sea and under a foreign flag, could be a part of
+his native peninsula. When he gazed out from the sides of the cliff
+across the vast blue bay with its rose-colored mountains dotted by the
+bright settlements of La L&iacute;nea, San Roque and Algeciras,&mdash;the cheery
+whiteness of Andalusian towns,&mdash;he felt convinced that he was still in
+Spain. But great difference distinguished the human groups camped upon
+the edge of this horseshoe of earth that embraced the bay. From the
+headland of Tarifa to the gates of Gibraltar, a monotonous unity of
+race; the happy warbling of the Andalusian dialect; the broad-brimmed
+hat; the <i>mantilla</i> about the women's bosoms and the glistening hair
+adorned with flowers. On the huge mountain topped by the British flag
+and enclosing the oriental part of the bay, a seething cauldron of
+races, a confusion of tongues, a carnival of costume: Hindus, Mussulmen,
+English, Hebrews, Spanish smugglers, soldiers in red coats, sailors from
+every nation, living within the narrow limits of the fortifications,
+subjected to military discipline, beholding the gates of the
+cosmopolitan sheepfold open with the signal at sunrise and close at the
+booming of the sunset gun. And as the frame of this picture, vibrant
+with its mingling of color and movement, a range of peaks, the highlands
+of Africa, the Moroccan mountains, stretched across the distant horizon,
+on the opposite shore of the strait; here is the most crowded of the
+great marine boulevards, over whose blue highway travel incessantly the
+heavily laden ships of all nationalities and of all flags; black
+transatlantic steamers that plow the main in search of the seaports of
+the poetical Orient, or cut through the Suez Canal and are lost in the
+isle-dotted immensities of the Pacific.</p>
+
+<p>To Aguirre, Gibraltar was a fragment of the distant Orient coming
+forward to meet him; an Asiatic port wrenched from its continent and
+dragged through the waves to run aground on the coast of Europe, as a
+sample of life in remote countries.</p>
+
+<p>He was stopping at a hotel on Royal Street, a thoroughfare that winds
+about the mountain,&mdash;that vertebral column of the city to which lead,
+like thin threads, the smaller streets in ascending or descending slope.
+Every morning he was startled from his sleep by the noise of the sunrise
+gun,&mdash;a dry, harsh discharge from a modern piece, without the
+reverberating echo of the old cannon. The walls trembled, the floors
+shook, window panes and curtains palpitated, and a few moments later a
+noise was heard in the street, growing gradually louder; it was the
+sound of a hurrying flock, the dragging of thousands of feet, the buzz
+of conversations carried on in a low voice along the closed and silent
+buildings. It was the Spanish day laborers arriving from La L&iacute;nea ready
+for week at the arsenal; the farmhands from San Roque and Algeciras who
+supplied the people of Gibraltar with vegetables and fruits.</p>
+
+<p>It was still dark. On the coast of Spain perhaps the sky was blue and
+the horizon was beginning to be colored by the rain of gold from the
+glorious birth of the sun. In Gibraltar the sea fogs condensed around
+the heights of the cliff, forming a sort of blackish umbrella that
+covered the city, holding it in a damp penumbra, wetting the streets and
+the roofs with impalpable rain. The inhabitants despaired beneath this
+persistent mist, wrapped about the mountain tops like a mourning hat. It
+seemed like the spirit of Old England that had flown across the seas to
+watch over its conquest; a strip of London fog that had insolently taken
+up its place before the warm coasts of Africa, the very home of the sun.</p>
+
+<p>The morning advanced, and the glorious, unobstructed light of the bay,
+yellow blue, at last succeeded in penetrating the settlement of
+Gibraltar, descending into the very depths of its narrow streets,
+dissolving the fog that had settled upon the trees of the Alameda and
+the foliage of the pines that extended along the coast so as to mask the
+fortifications at the top, drawing forth from the shadows the gray
+masses of the cruisers anchored in the harbor and the black bulk of the
+cannon that formed the shore batteries, filtering into the lugubrious
+embrasures pierced through the cliff, cavernous mouths revealing the
+mysterious defences that had been wrought with mole-like industry in the
+heart of the rock.</p>
+
+<p>When Aguirre went down to the entrance of the hotel, after having given
+up all attempt to sleep during the commotion in the street, the
+thoroughfare was already in the throes of its regular commercial
+hurly-burly, a multitude of people, the inhabitants of the entire town
+plus the crews and the passengers of the vessels anchored in the harbor.
+Aguirre plunged into the bustle of this cosmopolitan population, walking
+from the section of the waterfront to the palace of the governor. He had
+become an Englishman, as he smilingly asserted. With the innate ability
+of the Spaniard to adapt himself to the customs of all foreign countries
+he imitated the manner of the English inhabitants of Gibraltar. He had
+bought himself a pipe, wore a traveling cap, turned up trousers and a
+swagger stick. The day on which he arrived, even before night-fall, they
+already knew throughout Gibraltar who he was and whither he was bound.
+Two days later the shopkeepers greeted him from the doors of their
+shops, and the idlers, gathered on the narrow square before the
+Commercial Exchange, glanced at him with those affable looks that greet
+a stranger in a small city where nobody keeps his secret.</p>
+
+<p>He walked along in the middle of the street, avoiding the light,
+canvas-topped carriages. The tobacco stores flaunted many-colored signs
+with designs that served as the trade-mark of their products. In the
+show windows the packages of tobacco were heaped up like so many bricks,
+and monstrous unsmokable cigars, wrapped in tinfoil as if they were
+sausages, glitteringly displayed their absurd size; through the doors of
+the Hebrew shops, free of any decoration, could be seen the shelves
+laden with rolls of silk and velvet, or the rich silk laces hanging from
+the ceiling. The Hindu bazaars overflowed into the street with their
+exotic, polychrome rarities: clothes embroidered with terror-inspiring
+divinities and chimerical animals; carpets in which the lotus-flower was
+adapted to the strangest designs; kimonos of delicate, indefinable
+tints; porcelain jars with monsters that belched fire; amber-colored
+shawls, as delicate as woven sighs; and in the small windows that had
+been converted into display cases, all the trinkets of the extreme
+Orient, in silver, ivory or ebony; black elephants with white tusks,
+heavy-paunched Buddhas, filigree jewels, mysterious amulets, daggers
+engraved from hilt to point. Alternating with these establishments of a
+free port that lives upon contraband, there were confectioneries owned
+by Jews, caf&eacute;s and more caf&eacute;s, some of the Spanish type with round,
+marble-topped tables, the clicking of dominoes, smoke-laden atmosphere
+and high-pitched discussions accompanied by vehement gestures; others
+resembling more the English bar, crowded with motionless, silent
+customers, swallowing one cocktail after another, without any other sign
+of emotion than a growing redness of the nose.</p>
+
+<p>Through the center of the street there passed by, like a masquerade, the
+variety of types and costumes that had surprised Aguirre as a spectacle
+distinct from that furnished by other European cities. There were
+Moroccans, some with a broad, hooded cape, white or black, the cowl
+lowered as if they were friars; others wearing balloon trousers, their
+calves exposed to the air and with no other protection for the feet than
+their loose, yellow slippers; their heads covered by the folds of their
+turbans. They were Moors from Tangier who supplied the place with
+poultry and vegetables, keeping their money in the embroidered leather
+wallets that hung from their girdled waists. The Jews of Morocco,
+dressed in oriental fashion with silk kirtle and an ecclesiastical
+calotte, passed by leaning upon sticks, as if thus dragging along their
+bland, timid obesity. The soldiers of the garrison,&mdash;tall, slender,
+rosy-complexioned&mdash;made the ground echo with the heavy cadence of their
+boots. Some were dressed in khaki, with the sobriety of the soldier in
+the field; others wore the regular red jacket. White helmets, some lined
+with yellow, alternated with the regulation caps; on the breasts of the
+sergeants shone the red stripe; other soldiers carried in their armpits
+the thin cane that is the emblem of authority. Above the collar of many
+coats rose the extraordinarily thin British neck, high, giraffe-like,
+with a pointed protuberance in front. Soon the further end of the street
+was filled with white; an avalanche of snowy patches seemed to advance
+with rhythmic step. It was the caps of the sailors. The cruisers in the
+Mediterranean had given their men shore leave and the thoroughfare was
+filled with ruddy, cleanshaven boys, with faces bronzed by the sun,
+their chests almost bare within the blue collar, their trousers wide at
+the bottom, swaying from side to side like an elephant's trunk, fellows
+with small heads and childish features, with their huge hands hanging at
+the ends of their arms as if the latter could hardly sustain their heavy
+bulk. The groups from the fleet separated, disappearing into the various
+side streets in search of a tavern. The policeman in the white helmet
+followed with a resigned look, certain that he would have to meet some
+of them later in a tussle, and beg the favor of the king when, at the
+sound of the sunset gun, he would bring them back dead drunk to their
+cruiser.</p>
+
+<p>Mingling with these fighters were gypsies with their loose belts, their
+long staffs and their dark faces; old and repulsive creatures, who no
+sooner stopped before a shop than the owners became uneasy at the
+mysterious hiding-places of their cloaks and skirts; Jews from the city,
+too, with broad frocks and shining silk hats, dressed for the
+celebration of one of their holidays; negroes from the English
+possessions; coppery Hindus with drooping mustache and white trousers,
+so full and short that they looked like aprons; Jewesses from Gibraltar,
+dressed in white with all the correctness of the Englishwomen; old
+Jewesses from Morocco, obese, puffed out, with a many-colored kerchief
+knotted about their temples; black cassocks of Catholic priests, tight
+frocks of Protestant priests, loose gowns of venerable rabbis, bent,
+with flowing beards, exuding grime and sacred wisdom... And all this
+multifarious world was enclosed in the limits of a fortified town,
+speaking many tongues at the same time, passing without any transition
+in the course of the conversation from English to a Spanish pronounced
+with the strong Andalusian accent.</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre wondered at the moving spectacle of Royal Street; at the
+continuously renewed variety of its multitude. On the great boulevards
+of Paris, after sitting in the same caf&eacute; for six days in succession, he
+knew the majority of those who passed by on the sidewalk. They were
+always the same. In Gibraltar, without leaving the restricted area of
+its central street, he experienced surprises every day. The whole
+country seemed to file by between its two rows of houses. Soon the
+street was filled with bearskin caps worn by ruddy, green-eyed,
+flat-nosed persons. It was a Russian invasion. There had just anchored
+in the harbor a transatlantic liner that was bearing this cargo of human
+flesh to America. They scattered throughout the place; they crowded the
+caf&eacute;s and the shops, and under their invading wave they blotted out the
+normal population of Gibraltar. At two o'clock it had resumed its
+regular aspect and there reappeared the helmets of the police, the
+sailors' caps, the turbans of the Moors, the Jews and the Christians.
+The liner was already at sea after having taken on its supply of coal;
+and thus, in the course of a single day, there succeeded one another the
+rapid and uproarious invasions of all the races of the continent, in
+this city that might be called the gateway of Europe, by the inevitable
+passage through which one part of the world communicates with the Orient
+and the other with the Occident.</p>
+
+<p>As the sun disappeared, the flash of a discharge gleamed from the top of
+the mountain, and the boom of the sunset gun warned strangers without a
+residence permit that it was time to leave the city. The evening patrol
+paraded through the streets, with its military music of fifes and drums
+grouped about the beloved national instrument of the English, the bass
+drum, which was being pounded with both hands by a perspiring athlete,
+whose rolled-up sleeves revealed powerful biceps. Behind marched Saint
+Peter, an official with escort, carrying the keys to the city. Gibraltar
+was now out of communication with the rest of the world; doors and gates
+were closed. Thrust upon itself it turned to its devotions, finding in
+religion an excellent pastime to precede supper and sleep. The Jews
+lighted the lamps of their synagogues and sang to the glory of Jehovah;
+the Catholics counted their rosaries in the Cathedral; from the
+Protestant temple, built in the Moorish style as if it were a mosque,
+rose, like a celestial whispering, the voices of the virgins accompanied
+by the organ; the Mussulmen gathered in the house of their consul to
+whine their interminable and monotonous salutation to Allah. In the
+temperance restaurants, established by Protestant piety for the cure of
+drunkenness, sober soldiers and sailors, drinking lemonade or tea, broke
+forth into harmonious hymns to the glory of the Lord of Israel, who in
+ancient times had guided the Jews through the desert and was now guiding
+old England over the seas, that she might establish her morality and her
+merchandise.</p>
+
+<p>Religion filled the existence of these people, to the point of
+suppressing nationality. Aguirre knew that in Gibraltar he was not a
+Spaniard; he was a Catholic. And the others, for the most part English
+subjects, scarcely recalled this status, designating themselves by the
+name of their creed.</p>
+
+<p>In his walks through Royal Street Aguirre had one stopping place: the
+entrance to a Hindu bazaar ruled over by a Hindu from Madras named
+Khiamull. During the first days of his stay he had bought from the
+shopkeeper various gifts for his first cousins in Madrid, the daughters
+of an old minister plenipotentiary who helped him in his career. Ever
+since then Aguirre would stop for a chat with Khiamull, a shrivelled old
+man, with a greenish tan complexion and mustache of jet black that
+bristled from his lips like the whiskers of a seal. His gentle, watery
+eyes&mdash;those of an antelope or of some humble, persecuted beast&mdash;seemed
+to caress Aguirre with the softness of velvet. He spoke to the young man
+in Spanish, mixing among his words, which were pronounced with an
+Andalusian accent, a number of rare terms from distant tongues that he
+had picked up in his travels. He had journeyed over half the world for
+the company by whom he was now employed. He spoke of his life at the
+Cape, at Durban, in the Philippines, at Malta, with a weary expression.
+Sometimes he looked young; at others his features contracted with an
+appearance of old age. Those of his race seem to be ageless. He recalled
+his far-off land of the sun, with the melancholy voice of an exile; his
+great sacred river, the flower-crowned Hindu virgins, slender and
+gracefully curved, showing from between the thick jewelled jacket and
+their linen folds a bronze stomach as beautiful as that of a marble
+figure. Ah!... When he would accumulate the price of his return thither,
+he would certainly join his lot to that of a maiden with large eyes and
+a breath of roses, scarcely out of childhood. Meanwhile he lived like an
+ascetic fakir amongst the Westerners, unclean folks with whom he was
+willing to transact business but with whom he avoided all unnecessary
+contact. Ah, to return yonder! Not to die far from the sacred river!...
+And as he expressed his intimate wishes to the inquisitive Spaniard who
+questioned him concerning the distant lands of light and mystery, the
+Hindu coughed painfully, his face becoming darker than ever, as if the
+blood that was circulating beneath the bronze of his skin had turned
+green.</p>
+
+<p>At times Aguirre, as if waking from a dream, would ask himself what he
+was doing there in Gibraltar. Since he had arrived with the intention of
+sailing at once, three large vessels had passed the strait bound for the
+Oceanic lands. And he had allowed them to sail on, pretending not to
+know of their presence, never being able to learn the exact conditions
+of his voyage, writing to Madrid, to his influential uncle, letters in
+which he spoke of vague ailments that for the moment delayed his
+departure. Why?... Why?...</p>
+
+<p>Upon arising, the day following his arrival at Gibraltar, Aguirre looked
+through the window curtains of his room with all the curiosity of a
+newcomer. The heavens were clouded; it was an October sky; but it was
+warm,&mdash;a muggy, humid warmth that betrayed the proximity of the African
+coast.</p>
+
+<p>Upon the flat roof of a neighboring house he noticed a strange
+construction,&mdash;a large arbor made of woven reeds and thatched with green
+branches. Within this fragile abode, he was able to make out through its
+bright curtains a long table, chairs, and an old-fashioned lamp hanging
+from the top... What a queer whim of these people who, having a house,
+chose to live upon the roof!</p>
+
+<p>A hotel attendant, while he put Aguirre's room in order, answered all
+his inquiries. The Jews of Gibraltar were celebrating a holiday, the
+Feast of Tabernacles, one of the most important observances of the year.
+It was in memory of the long wandering of the Israelites through the
+desert. In commemoration of their sufferings the Jews were supposed to
+eat in the open air, in a tabernacle that resembled the tents and huts
+of their forefathers. The more fanatic of them, those most attached to
+ancient customs, ate standing, with a staff in their hands, as if ready
+to resume their journey after the last mouthful. The Hebrew merchants of
+the central street erected their structures on the roof; those of the
+poor quarters built theirs in a yard or corral, wherever they could
+catch a glimpse of the open sky. Those who, because of their extreme
+poverty, lived in a shanty, were invited to dine in company with the
+more fortunate, with that fraternity of a race compelled by hatred and
+persecution to preserve a firm solidarity.</p>
+
+<p>The tabernacle Aguirre saw was that of old Aboab and his son, brokers
+who kept their establishment on the selfsame Royal Street, just a few
+doors below. And the servant pronounced the name Aboab (father and son)
+with that mingling of superstitious awe and hatred which is inspired in
+the poor by wealth that is considered unjustly held. All Gibraltar knew
+them; it was the same in Tangier, and the same in Rabat and Casablanca.
+Hadn't the gentleman heard of them? The son directed the business of the
+house, but the father still took part, presiding over all with his
+venerable presence and that authority of old age which is so infallible
+and sacred among Hebrew families.</p>
+
+<p>"If you could only see the old man!" added the attendant, with his
+Andalusian accent. "A white beard that reaches down to his waist, and if
+you'd put it into hot water it would yield more than a pitcherful of
+grease. He's almost as greasy as the grand Rabbi, who's the bishop among
+them.... But he has lots of money. Gold ounces by the fistful, pounds
+sterling by the shovel; and if you'd see the hole he has in the street
+for his business you'd be amazed. A mere poor man's kitchen. It seems
+impossible that he can store so much there!"</p>
+
+<p>After breakfast, when Aguirre went back to his room in search of his
+pipe, he saw that the Aboab tabernacle was occupied by the whole family.
+At the back, which was in semi-obscurity, he seemed to make out a white
+head presiding over the table and on each side elbows leaning upon the
+tablecloth, and the skirts and trousers of persons who were for the most
+part invisible.</p>
+
+<p>Two women came out on the roof; they were both young, and after glancing
+for a moment at the inquisitive fellow in the hotel window, turned their
+gaze in a different direction, as if they had not noticed him. To
+Aguirre these Aboab daughters were not very impressive, and he wondered
+whether the much vaunted beauty of Jewesses was but another of the many
+lies admitted by custom, consecrated by time and accepted without
+investigation. They had large eyes, of bovine beauty; moist and dilated,
+but with the addition of thick, prominent eyebrows, as black and
+continuous as daubs of ink. Their nostrils were wide and the beginnings
+of obesity already threatened to submerge their youthful slenderness in
+corpulence.</p>
+
+<p>They were followed by another woman, doubtless the mother, who was so
+fat that her flesh shook as she moved. Her eyes, too, were attractive,
+but were spoiled by the ugly eyebrows. Her nose, her lower lip and the
+flesh of her neck hung loosely; in her there was already completed the
+fatal maturity which was beginning to appear in her daughters. All three
+possessed the yellowish pallor characteristic of Oriental races. Their
+thick lips, faintly blue, revealed something of the African element
+grafted upon their Asiatic origin.</p>
+
+<p>"Hola! What's this!" murmured Aguirre with a start.</p>
+
+<p>A fourth woman had come out from the depths of the tabernacle. She must
+be English; the Spaniard was certain of this. Yes, she was an English
+brunette, with a bluish cast to her dark skin and a slim, athletic
+figure whose every movement was graceful. A creole from the colonies,
+perhaps, born of some Oriental beauty and a British soldier.</p>
+
+<p>She looked without any bashfulness toward the window of the hotel,
+examining the Spaniard with the leisurely glance of a bold boy, meeting
+the shock of his eyes without flinching. Then she wheeled about on her
+heel as if beginning a dancing figure, turned her back to the Spaniard
+and leaned against the shoulders of the two other young ladies,
+thrusting them aside and taking pleasure, to the accompaniment of loud
+outbursts of laughter, in pushing their unwieldy persons with her
+vigorous, boyish arms.</p>
+
+<p>When all the women returned to the interior of the tabernacle, Aguirre
+abandoned his lookout, more and more convinced of the exactness of his
+observations. Decidedly, she was not a Jewess. And the better to
+convince himself, he talked at the door with the manager of the hotel,
+who knew all Gibraltar. After a few words this man guessed to whom
+Aguirre was referring.</p>
+
+<p>"That's Luna... Lunita Benamor, old Aboab's granddaughter. What a girl,
+eh? The belle of Gibraltar! And rich! Her dowry is at least one hundred
+thousand <i>duros</i>."</p>
+
+<p>A Jewess!... She was a Jewess! From that time Aguirre began to meet Luna
+frequently in the narrow limits of a city where people could hardly move
+without encountering one another. He saw her on the roof of her house;
+he came across her on Royal Street as she entered her grandfather's
+place; he followed her, sometimes in the vicinity of the Puerta del Mar
+and at others from the extreme end of the town, near the Alameda. She
+was usually unaccompanied, like all the young ladies of Gibraltar, who
+are brought up in conformity with English customs. Besides, the town was
+in a manner a common dwelling in which all knew one another and where
+woman ran no risk.</p>
+
+<p>Whenever Aguirre met her they would exchange casual glances, but with
+the expression of persons who have seen each other very often. The
+consul still experienced the astonishment of a Spaniard influenced by
+centuries of prejudice. A Jewess! He would never have believed that the
+race could produce such a woman. Her outward appearance, correct and
+elegant as that of an Englishwoman, gave no other indication of her
+foreign origin than a marked predilection for silk clothes of bright
+hues, especially strawberry color, and a fondness for sparkling jewelry.
+With the gorgeousness of an American who pays no attention to hours, she
+would go out early in the morning with a thick necklace of pearls
+hanging upon her bosom and two flashing pendants in her ears. A picture
+hat with costly plumes, imported from London, concealed the ebony beauty
+of her hair.</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre had acquaintances in Gibraltar, idlers, whom he had met in the
+caf&eacute;s, young, obsequious, courteous Israelites who received this
+Castilian official with ancestral deference, questioning him about
+affairs of Spain as if that were a remote country.</p>
+
+<p>Whenever passed by them during her constant walks along Royal
+Street,&mdash;taken with no other purpose than to kill time&mdash;they spoke of
+her with respect. "More than a hundred thousand <i>duros</i>." Everybody knew
+the amount of the dowry. And they acquainted the consul with the
+existence of a certain Israelite who was the girl's affianced husband.
+He was now in America to complete his fortune. He was rich, but a Jew
+must labor to add to the legacy of his fathers. The families had
+arranged the union without even consulting them, when she was twelve
+years old and he already a man corrupted by frequent changes of
+residence and traveling adventures. Luna had been waiting already ten
+years for the return of her fianc&eacute; from Buenos Aires, without the
+slightest impatience, like the other maidens of her race, certain that
+everything would take its regular course at the appointed hour.</p>
+
+<p>"These Jewish girls," said a friend of Aguirre, "are never in a hurry.
+They're accustomed to biding their time. Just see how their fathers have
+been awaiting the Messiah for thousands of years without growing tired."</p>
+
+<p>One morning, when the Feast of Tabernacles had ended and the Jewish
+population of the town returned to its normal pursuits, Aguirre entered
+the establishment of the Aboabs under the pretext of changing a quantity
+of money into tender of English denomination. It was a rectangular room
+without any other light than that which came in through the doorway, its
+walls kalsomined and with a wainscoting of white, glazed tiles. A small
+counter divided the shop, leaving a space for the public near the
+entrance and reserving the rest of the place for the owners and a large
+iron safe. Near the door a wooden charity-box, inscribed in Hebrew,
+awaited the donations of the faithful for the philanthropic activities
+of the community. The Jewish customers, in their dealings with the
+house, deposited there the extra <i>centimos</i> of their transactions.
+Behind the counter were the Aboabs, father and son. The patriarch,
+Samuel Aboab, was very aged and of a greasy corpulence. As he sat there
+in his armchair his stomach, hard and soft at the same time, had risen
+to his chest. His shaven upper lip was somewhat sunken through lack of
+teeth; his patriarchal beard, silver white and somewhat yellow at the
+roots, fell in matted locks, with the majesty of the prophets. Old age
+imparted to his voice a whimpering quaver, and to his eyes a tearful
+tenderness. The least emotion brought tears; every word seemed to stir
+touching recollections. Tears and tears oozed from his eyes, even when
+he was silent, as if they were fountains whence escaped the grief of an
+entire people, persecuted and cursed through centuries upon centuries.</p>
+
+<p>His son Zabulon was already old, but a certain black aspect lingered
+about him, imparting an appearance of virile youth. His eyes were dark,
+sweet and humble, but with an occasional flash that revealed a fanatic
+soul, a faith as firm as that of ancient Jerusalem's people, ever ready
+to stone or crucify the new prophets; his beard, too, was black and firm
+as that of a Maccabean warrior; black, also, was his curly hair, which
+looked like an astrakhan cap. Zabulon figured as one of the most active
+and respected members of the Jewish community,&mdash;an individual
+indispensable to all beneficent works, a loud singer in the synagogue
+and a great friend of the Rabbi, whom he called "our spiritual chief,"
+an assiduous attendant at all homes where a fellow-religionist lay
+suffering, ready to accompany with his prayers the gasps of the dying
+man and afterwards lave the corpse according to custom with a profusion
+of water that ran in a stream into the street. On Saturdays and special
+holidays Zabulon would leave his house for the synagogue, soberly
+arrayed in his frock and his gloves, wearing a silk hat and escorted by
+three poor co-religionists who lived upon the crumbs of his business and
+were for these occasions dressed in a style no less sober and fitting
+than that of their protector.</p>
+
+<p>"All hands on deck!" the wits of Royal Street would cry. "Make way, for
+here comes a cruiser with four smokestacks!"</p>
+
+<p>And the four smokestacks of well brushed silk sailed between the groups,
+bound for the synagogue, looking now to this side and now to that so as
+to see whether any wicked Hebrew was lounging about the streets instead
+of attending synagogue; this would afterwards be reported to the
+"spiritual head."</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre, who was surprised at the poverty of the establishment, which
+resembled a kitchen, was even more surprised at the facility with which
+money rolled across the narrow counter. The packets of silver pieces
+were quickly opened, passing rapidly through the shaggy, expert hands of
+Zabulon; the pounds fairly sang, as they struck the wood, with the merry
+ring of gold; the bank-notes, folded like unstitched folios, flashed for
+a moment before concealing the colors of their nationality in the safe:
+the simple, monotonous white of the English paper, the soft blue of the
+Bank of France, the green and red mixture of the Spanish Bank. All the
+Jews of Gibraltar flocked hither, with that same commercial solidarity
+which leads them to patronize only establishments owned by members of
+their race; Zabulon, all by himself, without the aid of clerks, and
+without allowing his father (the venerable fetich of the family's
+fortune) to leave his seat, directed this dance of money, conducting it
+from the hands of the public to the depths of the iron safe, or fetching
+it forth to spread it, with a certain sadness, upon the counter. The
+ridiculous little room seemed to grow in size and acquire beauty at the
+sound of the sonorous names that issued from the lips of the banker and
+his customers. London! Paris! Vienna!... The house of Aboab had branches
+everywhere. Its name and its influence extended not only to the famous
+world centers, but even to the humblest corners, wherever one of their
+race existed. Rabat, Casablanca, Larache, Tafilete, Fez, were African
+towns into which the great banks of Europe could penetrate only with the
+aid of these auxiliaries, bearing an almost famous name yet living very
+poorly.</p>
+
+<p>Zabulon, as he changed Aguirre's money, greeted him as if he were a
+friend. In that city every one knew every body else within twenty-four
+hours.</p>
+
+<p>Old Aboab pulled himself together in his chair, peering out of his weak
+eyes with a certain surprise at not being able to recognize this
+customer among his habitual visitors.</p>
+
+<p>"It's the consul, father," said Zabulon, without raising his glance from
+the money that he was counting, guessing the reason for the movement of
+the old man behind him. "The Spanish consul who stops at the hotel
+opposite our house."</p>
+
+<p>The patriarch seemed to be impressed and raised his hand to his hat with
+humble courtesy.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! The consul! The worthy consul!" he exclaimed, emphasizing the title
+as a token of his great respect for all the powers of the earth. "Highly
+honored by your visit, worthy consul."</p>
+
+<p>And believing that he owed his visitor renewed expressions of flattery,
+he added with tearful sighs, imparting to his words a telegraphic
+conciseness, "Ah, Spain! Beautiful land, excellent country, nation of
+gentlemen!... My forefathers came from there, from a place called
+Espinosa de los Monteros."</p>
+
+<p>His voice quivered, pained by recollections, and afterwards, as if he
+had in memory advanced to recent times, he added, "Ah! Castelar!...
+Castelar, a friend of the Jews, and he defended them. Of the <i>judeos</i>,
+as they say there!"</p>
+
+<p>His flood of tears, ill restrained up to that moment, could no longer be
+held back, and at this grateful recollection it gushed from his eyes,
+inundating his beard.</p>
+
+<p>"Spain! Beautiful country!" sighed the old man, deeply moved.</p>
+
+<p>And he recalled everything that in the past of his race and his family
+had united his people with that country. An Aboab had been chief
+treasurer of the King of Castile; another had been a wonderful
+physician, enjoying the intimacy of bishops and cardinals. The Jews of
+Portugal and of Spain had been great personages,&mdash;the aristocracy of the
+race. Scattered now over Morocco and Turkey, they shunned all
+intercourse with the coarse, wretched Israelite population of Russia and
+Germany. They still recited certain prayers, in the synagogue, in old
+Castilian, and the Jews of London repeated them by heart without knowing
+either their origin or their meaning, as if they were prayers in a
+language of sacred mystery. He himself, when he prayed at the synagogue
+for the King of England, imploring for him an abundance of health and
+prosperity even as Jews the world over did for the ruler of whatever
+country they happened to inhabit, added mentally an entreaty to the Lord
+for the good fortune of beautiful Spain.</p>
+
+<p>Zabulon, despite his respect for his father, interrupted him brusquely,
+as if he were an imprudent child. In his eyes there glowed the harsh
+expression of the impassioned zealot.</p>
+
+<p>"Father, remember what they did to us. How they cast us out... how they
+robbed us. Remember our brothers who were burned alive."</p>
+
+<p>"That's true, that's true," groaned the patriarch, shedding new tears
+into a broad handkerchief with which he wiped his eyes. "It's true....
+But in that beautiful country there still remains something that is
+ours. The bones of our ancestors."</p>
+
+<p>When Aguirre left, the old man showered him with tokens of extreme
+courtesy. He and his son were at the consul's service. And the consul
+returned almost every morning to chat with the patriarch, while Zabulon
+attended to the customers and counted money.</p>
+
+<p>Samuel Aboab spoke of Spain with tearful delight, as of a marvelous
+country whose entrance was guarded by terrible monsters with fiery
+swords. Did they still recall the <i>judeos</i> there? And despite Aguirre's
+assurances, he refused to believe that they were no longer called thus
+in Spain. It grieved the old man to die before beholding Espinosa de los
+Monteros; a beautiful city, without a doubt. Perhaps they still
+preserved there the memory of the illustrious Aboabs.</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard smilingly urged him to undertake the journey. Why did he
+not go there?...</p>
+
+<p>"Go! Go to Spain!..." The old man huddled together like a timorous snail
+before the idea of this journey.</p>
+
+<p>"There are still laws against the poor <i>judeos</i>. The decree of the
+Catholic Kings. Let them first repeal it!... Let them first call us
+back!"</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre laughed at his listener's fears. Bah! The Catholic Kings! Much
+they counted for now!... Who remembered those good gentlemen?</p>
+
+<p>But the old man persisted in his fears. He had suffered much. The terror
+of the expulsion was still in his bones and in his blood, after four
+centuries. In summer, when the heat forced them to abandon the torrid
+rock, and the Aboab family hired a little cottage on the seashore, in
+Spanish territory just beyond La L&iacute;nea, the patriarch dwelt in constant
+restlessness, as if he divined mysterious perils in the very soil upon
+which he trod. Who could tell what might happen during the night? Who
+could assure him that he would not awake in chains, ready to be led like
+a beast to a port? This is what had happened to his Spanish ancestors,
+who had been forced to take refuge in Morocco, whence a branch of the
+family had moved to Gibraltar when the English took possession of the
+place.</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre poked mild fun at the childish fears of the aged fellow,
+whereupon Zabulon intervened with his darkly energetic authority.</p>
+
+<p>"My father knows what he is talking about. We will never go; we can't
+go. In Spain the old customs always return; the old is converted into
+the new. There is no security; woman has too much power and interferes
+in matters that she does not understand."</p>
+
+<p>Woman! Zabulon spoke scornfully of the sex. They should be treated as
+the Jews treated them. The Jews taught them nothing more than the amount
+of religion necessary to follow the rites. The presence of women in the
+synagogue was in many instances not obligatory. Even when they came,
+they were confined to the top of a gallery, like spectators of the
+lowest rank. No. Religion was man's business, and the countries in which
+woman has a part in it cannot offer security.</p>
+
+<p>Then the unsympathetic Israelite spoke enthusiastically of the "greatest
+man in the world," Baron Rothschild, lord over kings and
+governments&mdash;taking care never to omit the title of baron every time he
+pronounced the name&mdash;and he finally named all the great Jewish centers,
+which were ever increasing in size and population.</p>
+
+<p>"We are everywhere," he asserted, blinking maliciously. "Now we are
+spreading over America. Governments change, peoples spread over the face
+of the earth, but we are ever the same. Not without reason do we await
+the Messiah. He will come, some day."</p>
+
+<p>On one of his morning visits to the ill appointed bank Aguirre was
+introduced to Zabulon's two daughters,&mdash;Sol and Estrella,&mdash;and to his
+wife, Thamar. On another morning Aguirre experienced a tremor of emotion
+upon hearing behind him the rustle of silks and noticing that the light
+from the entrance was obscured by the figure of a person whose identity
+his nerves had divined. It was Luna, who had come, with all the interest
+that Hebrew women feel for their domestic affairs, to deliver an order
+to her uncle. The old man grasped her hands across the counter,
+caressing them tremblingly.</p>
+
+<p>"This is my granddaughter, sir consul, my granddaughter Luna. Her father
+is dead, and my daughter too. She comes from Morocco. No one loves the
+poor girl as much as her grandfather does."</p>
+
+<p>And the patriarch burst into tears, moved by his own words.</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre left the shop with triumphant joy. They had spoken to each
+other; now they were acquainted. The moment he met her upon the street
+he would cling to her, taking advantage of some blessed customs that
+seemed to have been made for lovers.</p>
+
+
+<h2 class="f"><a name="II" id="II"></a><a href="#toc">II</a></h2>
+
+<p class="n"><span class="dropcap">N</span><span style="margin-left: 1%;">E</span>ITHER could tell how, after several ordinary meetings, their friendly
+confidence grew, or which had been the first word to reveal the mystery
+of their thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>They saw each other mornings when Aguirre would go to his window. The
+Feast of Tabernacles had come to an end, and the Aboabs had taken down
+the religious structure, but Luna continued to go to the roof under
+various pretexts, so that she might exchange a glance, a smile, a
+gesture of greeting with the Spaniard. They did not converse from these
+heights through fear of the neighbors, but afterwards they met in the
+street, and Luis, after a respectful salute, would join the young lady,
+and they would walk along as companions, like other couples they met on
+their way. All were known to one another in that town. Only by this
+knowledge could married couples be distinguished from simple friends.</p>
+
+<p>Luna visited various shops on errands for the Aboabs, like a good Jewess
+who is interested in all the family affairs. At other times she wandered
+aimlessly through Royal Street, or walked in the direction of the
+Alameda, explaining the landmarks of the city to Aguirre at her side. In
+the midst of these walks she would stop at the brokers' shop to greet
+the patriarch, who smiled childishly as he contemplated the youthful and
+beautiful couple.</p>
+
+<p>"Se&ntilde;or consul, se&ntilde;or consul," said Samuel one day, "I brought from my
+house this morning the family papers, for you to read. Not all of them.
+There are too many altogether! We Aboabs are very old; I wish to prove
+to the consul that we are <i>judeos</i> of Spain, and that we still remember
+the beautiful land."</p>
+
+<p>And from underneath the counter he drew forth divers rolls of parchment
+covered with Hebrew characters. They were matrimonial documents, acts of
+union of the Aboabs with certain families of the Israelite community. At
+the head of all these documents figured on one side the coat of arms of
+England and on the other that of Spain, in bright colors and gold
+borders.</p>
+
+<p>"We are English," declared the patriarch. "May the Lord preserve our
+king and send him much happiness; but we are Spaniards historically:
+Castilians, that is... Castilians."</p>
+
+<p>He selected from the parchments one that was cleaner and fresher than
+the others, and bent over it his white, wavy beard and his tearful eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"This is the wedding contract of Benamor with my poor daughter: Luna's
+parents. You can't understand it, for it's in Hebrew characters, but the
+language is Castilian, pure Castilian, as it was spoken by our
+ancestors."</p>
+
+<p>And slowly, in an infantile voice, as if he relished the obsolete forms
+of the words, he read the terms of the contract that united the parties
+"in the custom of Old Castile." Then he enumerated the conditions of the
+marriage, the penalties either of the contracting parties might incur if
+the union were dissolved through his or her fault.</p>
+
+<p>"'Such party will pay,'" mumbled the patriarch, "'will pay... so many
+silver ounces.' Are there still silver ounces in Castile, se&ntilde;or
+consul?"...</p>
+
+<p>Luna, in her conversations with Aguirre, demonstrated an interest as
+keen as that of her old grandfather in the beautiful land, the far-off,
+remote, mysterious land,&mdash;in spite of the fact that its boundary was
+situated but a few steps away, at the very gates of Gibraltar. All she
+knew of it was a little fisherman's hamlet, beyond La L&iacute;nea, whither she
+had gone with her family on their summer vacations.</p>
+
+<p>"Cadiz! Seville! How enchanting they must be!... I can picture them to
+myself: I have often beheld them in my dreams, and I really believe that
+if I ever saw them they wouldn't surprise me in the least.... Seville!
+Tell me, Don Luis, is it true that sweethearts converse there through a
+grating? And is it certain that the maidens are serenaded with a guitar,
+and the young men throw their capes before them as a carpet over which
+to pass? And isn't it false that men slay one another for them?... How
+charming! Don't deny all this. It's all so beautiful!..."</p>
+
+<p>Then she would summon to memory all her recollections of that land of
+miracles, of that country of legends, in which her forebears had dwelt.
+When she was a child her grandmother, Samuel Aboab's wife, would lull
+her to sleep reciting to her in a mysterious voice the prodigious events
+that always had Castile as their background and always began the same:
+"Once upon a time there was a king of Toledo who fell in love with a
+beautiful and charming Jewess named Rachel...."</p>
+
+<p>"Toledo!"... As she uttered this name Luna rolled her eyes as in the
+vagueness of a dream. The Spanish capital of Israel! The second
+Jerusalem! Her noble ancestors, the treasurer of the king and the
+miraculous physician, had dwelt there!</p>
+
+<p>"You must have seen Toledo, Don Luis. You surely have been there. How I
+envy you!... Very beautiful, isn't it? Vast! Enormous!... Like
+London?... Like Paris? Of course not.... But certainly far larger than
+Madrid."</p>
+
+<p>And carried away by the enthusiasm of her illusions she forgot all
+discretion, questioning Luis about his past. Indubitably he was of the
+nobility: his very bearing revealed that. From the very first day she
+had seen him, upon learning his name and his nationality, she had
+guessed that he was of high origin. A hidalgo such as she had imagined
+every man from Spain to be, with something Semitic in his face and in
+his eyes, but more proud, with an air of hauteur that was incapable of
+supporting humiliations and servility. Perhaps he had a uniform for
+festive occasions, a suit of bright colors, braided with gold... and a
+sword, a sword!</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes shone with admiration in the presence of this hidalgo from the
+land of knights who was dressed as plainly as a shopkeeper of Gibraltar,
+yet who could transform himself into a glorious insect of brilliant
+hues, armed with a mortal sting. And Aguirre did not disturb her
+illusions, answering affirmatively, with all the simplicity of a hero.
+Yes; he had a golden costume, that of the consul. He possessed a sword,
+which went with his uniform, and which had never been unsheathed.</p>
+
+<p>One sunny morning the pair, quite unconsciously, took the path to the
+Alameda. She made anxious inquiries about Aguirre's past, with
+indiscreet curiosity, as always happens between persons who feel
+themselves attracted to each other by a budding affection. Where had he
+been born? How had he spent his childhood? Had he loved many women?...</p>
+
+<p>They passed beneath the arches of an old gate that dated back to the
+time of the Spanish possession, and which still preserved the eagles and
+the shields of the Austrian dynasty. In the old moat, now converted into
+a garden, there was a group of tombs,&mdash;those of the English sailors who
+had died at Trafalgar. They walked along an avenue in which the trees
+alternated with heaps of old bombs and cone-shaped projectiles, reddened
+by rust. Further on, the large cannon craned their necks toward the gray
+cruisers of the military harbor and the extensive bay, over whose blue
+plain, tremulous with gold, glided the white dots of some sailing
+vessels.</p>
+
+<p>On the broad esplanade of the Alameda, at the foot of the mountain
+covered with pines and cottages, were groups of youths running and
+kicking a restless ball around. At that hour, as at every hour of the
+day, the huge ball of the English national game sped through the air
+over paths, fields and garrison yards. A concert of shouts and kicks,
+civil as well as military, rose into the air, to the glory of strong and
+hygienic England.</p>
+
+<p>They mounted a long stairway, afterwards seeking rest in a shady little
+square, near the monument to a British hero, the defender of Gibraltar,
+surrounded by mortars and cannon. Luna, gazing across the blue sea that
+could be viewed through the colonnade of trees, at last spoke of her own
+past.</p>
+
+<p>Her childhood had been sad. Born in Rabat, where the Jew Benamor was
+engaged in the exportation of Moroccan cloths, her life had flowed on
+monotonously, without any emotion other than that of fear. The Europeans
+of this African port were common folk, who had come thither to make
+their fortune. The Moors hated the Jews. The rich Hebrew families had to
+hold themselves apart, nourishing themselves socially upon their own
+substance, ever on the defensive in a country that lacked laws. The
+young Jewish maidens were given an excellent education, which they
+acquired with the facility of their race in adopting all progress. They
+astonished newcomers to Rabat with their hats and their clothes, similar
+to those of Paris and London; they played the piano; they spoke various
+languages, and yet, on certain nights of sleeplessness and terror, their
+parents dressed them in foul tatters and disguised them, staining their
+faces and their hands with moist ashes and lampblack, so that they might
+not appear to be Jewish daughters and should rather resemble slaves.
+There were nights in which an uprising of the Moors was feared, an
+invasion of the near-by Kabyles, excited in their fanaticism by the
+inroads of European culture. The Moroccans burned the houses of the
+Jews, plundered their treasures, fell like wild beasts upon the white
+women of the infidels, decapitating them with hellish sadism after
+subjecting them to atrocious outrages. Ah! Those childhood nights in
+which she dozed standing, dressed like a beggar girl, since the
+innocence of her tender age was of no avail as a protection!... Perhaps
+it was these frights that were responsible for her dangerous
+illness,&mdash;an illness that had brought her near to death, and to this
+circumstance she owed her name Luna.</p>
+
+<p>"At my birth I was named Horabuena, and a younger sister of mine
+received the name Asibuena. After a period of terror and an invasion of
+the Moroccans in which our house was burned down and we thought we were
+all doomed to slaughter, my sister and I fell ill with fever. Asibuena
+died; happily, I was saved."</p>
+
+<p>And she described to Luis, who listened to her under a spell of horror,
+the incidents of this exotic, abnormal life,&mdash;all the sufferings of her
+mother in the poor house where they had taken refuge. Aboab's daughter
+screamed with grief and tore her black hair before the bed where her
+daughter lay overcome by the stupor of fever. Her poor Horabuena was
+going to die.</p>
+
+<p>"Ay, my daughter! My treasure Horabuena, my sparkling diamond, my nest
+of consolation!... No more will you eat the tender chicken! No more will
+you wear your neat slippers on Saturdays, nor will your mother smile
+with pride when the Rabbi beholds you so graceful and beautiful!..."</p>
+
+<p>The poor woman paced about the room lighted by a shaded lamp. In the
+shadows she could detect the presence of the hated <i>Huerco</i>, the demon,
+with a Spanish name who comes at the appointed hour to bear off human
+creatures to the darkness of death. She must battle against the evil
+one, must deceive the <i>Huerco</i>, who was savage yet stupid, just as her
+forefathers had deceived him many a time:</p>
+
+<p>She repressed her tears and sighs, calmed her voice, and stretching out
+upon the floor spoke softly, with a sweet accent, as if she were
+receiving an important visit:</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Huerco</i>, what have you come for?... Are you looking for Horabuena?
+Horabuena is not here; she has gone forever. She who is here is named...
+Luna. Sweet Lunita, beautiful Lunita. Off with you, <i>Huerco</i>, begone!
+She whom you seek is not here."</p>
+
+<p>For some time she was calm, then her returning fears made her speak
+again to her importunate, lugubrious guest. There he was again! She
+could feel his presence.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Huerco</i>, I tell you you're mistaken! Horabuena is gone; look for her
+elsewhere. Only Luna is here. Sweet Lunita, precious Lunita."</p>
+
+<p>And so great was her insistence that at last she succeeded in deceiving
+<i>Huerco</i> with her entreating, humble voice, although it is true that, to
+give an air of truth to the deceit, on the following day, at a synagogue
+ceremony, the name of Horabuena was changed to that of Luna.</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre listened to these revelations with the same interest as that
+with which he would read a novel about a far-off, exotic land that he
+was never to behold.</p>
+
+<p>It was on this same morning that the consul revealed the proposal which
+for several days he had guarded in his thoughts, afraid to express it.
+Why not love each other? Why not be sweethearts? There was something
+providential about the way the two had met; they should not fail to take
+advantage of the fate which had brought them together. To have become
+acquainted! To have met, despite the difference of countries and of
+races!...</p>
+
+<p>Luna protested, but her protest was a smiling one. What madness!
+Sweethearts? Why? They could not marry; they were of different faiths.
+Besides, he had to leave. But Aguirre interrupted resolutely:</p>
+
+<p>"Don't reason. Just close your eyes. In love there should be no
+reflection. Good sense and the conventionalities are for persons who
+don't love each other. Say yes, and afterwards time and our good luck
+will arrange everything."</p>
+
+<p>Luna laughed, amused by Aguirre's grave countenance and the vehemence of
+his speech.</p>
+
+<p>"Sweethearts in the Spanish fashion?... Believe me, I am tempted to
+assent. You will go off and forget me, just as you've doubtless
+forgotten others; and I'll be left cherishing the remembrance of you.
+Excellent. We'll see each other every day and will chat about our
+affairs. Serenades are not possible here, nor can you place your cape at
+my feet without being considered crazy. But that doesn't matter. We'll
+be sweethearts; I should love to see what it's like."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed as she spoke, with her eyes closed, just like a child to
+whom a pleasant game has been proposed. Soon she opened her eyes wide,
+as if something forgotten had reawakened in her with a painful pressure.
+She was pale. Aguirre could guess what she was trying to say. She was
+about to tell him of her previous betrothal, of that Jewish fianc&eacute; who
+was in America and might return. But after a brief pause of indecision
+she returned to her former attitude, without breaking the silence. Luis
+was grateful to her for this. She desired to conceal her past, as do all
+women in the first moment of love.</p>
+
+<p>"Agreed. We'll be sweethearts. Let's see, consul. Say pretty things to
+me, of the sort that you folks say in Spain when you come to the
+grating."</p>
+
+<p>That morning Luna returned to her house somewhat late for the lunch
+hour. The family was awaiting her impatiently. Zabulon looked at his
+niece with a stern glance. Her cousins Sol and Estrella alluded to the
+Spaniard in a jesting manner. The patriarch's eyes grew moist as he
+spoke of Spain and its consul.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile the latter had stopped at the door of the Hindu bazaar to
+exchange a few words with Khiamull. He felt the necessity of sharing his
+brimming happiness with another. The Hindu was greener than ever. He
+coughed frequently and his smile, which resembled that of a bronze
+child, was really a dolorous grimace.</p>
+
+<p>"Khiamull, long live love! Believe me, for I know much about life. You
+are sickly and some day you'll die, without beholding the sacred river
+of your native land. What you need is a companion, a girl from
+Gibraltar... or rather, from La L&iacute;nea; a half gypsy, with her cloak,
+pinks in her hair and alluring manners. Am I not right, Khiamull?..."</p>
+
+<p>The Hindu smiled with a certain scorn, shaking his head. No. Every one
+to his own. He was of his race and lived in voluntary solitude among the
+whites. Man can do nothing against the sympathies and aversions of the
+blood. Brahma, who was the sum of divine wisdom, separated all creatures
+into castes.</p>
+
+<p>"But, man!... friend Khiamull! It seems to me that a girl of the kind
+I've mentioned is by no means to be despised...."</p>
+
+<p>The Hindu smiled once more at the speaker's ignorance. Every race has
+its own tastes and its sense of smell. To Aguirre, who was a good
+fellow, he would dare to reveal a terrible secret. Did he see those
+whites, the Europeans, so content with their cleanliness and their
+baths?... They were all impure, polluted by a natural stench which it
+was impossible for them to wipe out. The son of the land of the lotus
+and the sacred clay was forced to make an effort in order to endure
+contact with them... They all smelled of raw meat.</p>
+
+
+<h2 class="f"><a name="III" id="III"></a><a href="#toc">III</a></h2>
+
+<p class="n"><span class="dropcap">I</span><span style="margin-left: -2.5%;">T</span> was a winter afternoon; the sky was overcast and the air was gray,
+but it was not cold. Luna and the Spaniard were walking slowly along the
+road that leads to Europa Point, which is the extreme end of the
+peninsula of Gibraltar. They had left behind them the Alameda and the
+banks of the Arsenal, passing through leafy gardens, along reddish
+villas inhabited by officers of army and navy, huge hospitals resembling
+small towns, and garrisons that seemed like convents, with numerous
+galleries in which swarms of children were scurrying about; here, too,
+clothes and tableware were being washed and cleaned by the soldiers'
+wives&mdash;courageous wanderers over the globe, as much at home in the
+garrisons of India as in those of Canada. The fog concealed from view
+the coast of Africa, lending to the Strait the appearance of a shoreless
+sea. Before the pair of lovers stretched the dark waters of the bay, and
+the promontory of Tarifa revealed its black outline faintly in the fog,
+resembling a fabulous rhinoceros bearing upon its snout, like a horn,
+the tower of the lighthouse. Through the ashen-gray clouds there
+penetrated a timid sunbeam,&mdash;a triangle of misty light, similar to the
+luminous stream from a magic lantern,&mdash;which traced a large shaft of
+pale gold across the green-black surface of the sea. In the center of
+this circle of anemic light there floated, like a dying swan, the white
+spot of a sailboat.</p>
+
+<p>The two lovers were oblivious to their surroundings. They walked along,
+engrossed in that amorous egotism which concentrates all life in a
+glance, or in the delicate contact of the bodies meeting and grazing
+each other at every step. Of all Nature there existed for them only the
+dying light of the afternoon, which permitted them to behold each other,
+and the rather warm breeze which, murmuring among the cacti and the
+palms, seemed to serve as the musical accompaniment to their
+conversation. At their right rumbled the far-off roar of the sea
+striking against the rocks. On their left reigned pastoral peace,&mdash;the
+melodious calm of the pines, broken from time to time only by the noise
+of the carts, which, followed by a platoon of soldiers in their shirt
+sleeves, wheeled up the roads of the mountain.</p>
+
+<p>The two looked at each other with caressing eyes, smiling with the
+automatism of love; but in reality they were sad, with that sweet
+sadness which in itself constitutes a new voluptuousness. Luna,
+influenced by the positivism of her race, was gazing into the future,
+while Aguirre was content with the present moment, not caring to know
+what would be the end of this love. Why trouble oneself imagining
+obstacles!...</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not like you, Luna. I have confidence in our lot. We'll marry and
+travel about the world. Don't let that frighten you. Remember how I came
+to know you. It was during the Feast of Tabernacles; you were eating
+almost on foot, like those gypsies that wander over the earth and resume
+their journey at the end of their meal. You come from a race of nomads
+which even today roams the world. I arrived just in time. We'll leave
+together; for I, too, am, because of my career, a wanderer. Always
+together! We will be able to find happiness in any land whatsoever.
+We'll carry springtime with us, the happiness of life, and will love
+each other deeply."</p>
+
+<p>Luna, flattered by the vehemence of these words, nevertheless contracted
+her features into an expression of sadness.</p>
+
+<p>"Child!" she murmured, with her Andalusian accent. "What sweet
+illusions... my precious consul! But only illusions, after all. How are
+we to marry? How can this be arranged?... Are you going to become a
+convert to my religion?"</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre started with surprise and looked at Luna with eyes that betrayed
+his amazement.</p>
+
+<p>"Man alive! I, turn Jew?..."</p>
+
+<p>He was no model of pious enthusiasm. He had passed his days without
+paying much attention to religion. He knew that the world contained many
+creeds, but without doubt, as far as he was concerned, decent persons
+the world over were all Catholics. Besides, his influential uncle had
+warned him not to jest with these matters under penalty of hampering
+advancement in his career.</p>
+
+<p>"No. No, I don't see the necessity of that.... But there must be some
+way of getting over the difficulty. I can't say what it is, but there
+surely must be one. At Paris I met very distinguished gentlemen who were
+married to women of your race. This can all be arranged. I assure you
+that it shall be. I have an idea! Tomorrow morning, if you wish, I'll go
+to see the chief Rabbi, your 'spiritual head,' as you call him. He seems
+to be a fine fellow; I've seen him several times upon the street; a well
+of wisdom, as your kind say. A pity that he goes about so unclean,
+smelling of rancid sanctity!... Now don't make such a wry face. It's a
+matter of minor importance! A little bit of soap can set it aright....
+There, there, don't get angry. The gentleman really pleases me a great
+deal, with his little white goatee and his wee voice that seems to come
+from the other world!... I tell you I'm going to see him and say, 'Se&ntilde;or
+Rabbi, Luna and I adore each other and wish to many; not like the Jews,
+by contract and with the right to change their minds, but for all our
+life, for centuries and centuries. Bind us from head to foot, so that
+there'll be none in heaven or on earth that can separate us. I can't
+change my religion because that would be base, but I swear to you, by
+all my faith as a Christian, that Luna will be more cared for, pampered
+and adored than if I were Methuselah, King David, the prophet Habakkuk
+or any other of the gallants that figure in the Scriptures.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Silence, you scamp!" interrupted the Jewess with superstitious anxiety,
+raising one hand to his lips to prevent him from continuing. "Seal your
+lips, sinner!"</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. I'll be silent, but it must be agreed that we'll settle this
+one way or another. Do you believe it possible for any one to sever us
+after such a serious love affair... and such a long one?"</p>
+
+<p>"Such a long one!" repeated Luna like an echo, imparting a grave
+expression to his words.</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre, in his silence, seemed to be given over to a difficult mental
+calculation.</p>
+
+<p>"At least a month long!" he said at last, as if in wonder at the length
+of time that had flown by.</p>
+
+<p>"No, not a month," protested Luna. "More, much more!"</p>
+
+<p>He resumed his meditation.</p>
+
+<p>"Positively; more than a month. Thirty-eight days, counting today....
+And seeing each other every day! And falling deeper and deeper in love
+each day!..."</p>
+
+<p>They walked along in silence, their gaze lowered, as if overwhelmed by
+the great age of their love. Thirty-eight days!... Aguirre recalled a
+letter that he had received the day before, bristling with surprise and
+indignation. He had been in Gibraltar already two months without sailing
+for Oceanica. What sort of illness was this? If he did not care to
+assume his post, he ought to return to Madrid. The instability of his
+present position and the necessity of solving this passion which little
+by little had taken possession of him came to his thoughts with
+agonizing urgency.</p>
+
+<p>Luna strolled on, her eyes upon the ground, moving her fingers as if
+counting.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, that's it. Thirty-eight.... Exactly! It seems impossible that you
+could have loved me for so long. Me! An old woman!"</p>
+
+<p>And in response to Aguirre's bewildered glance she added, sadly, "You
+already know. I don't hide it.... Twenty-two years old. Many of my race
+marry at fourteen."</p>
+
+<p>Her resignation was sincere; it was the resignation of the Oriental
+woman, accustomed to behold youth only in the bud of adolescence.</p>
+
+<p>"Often I find it impossible to explain your love for me. I feel so proud
+of you!... My cousins, to vex me, try to find defects in you, and
+can't!... No, they can't! The other day you passed by my house and I was
+behind the window-blinds with Miriam, who was my nurse; she's a Jewess
+from Morocco, one of those who wear kerchiefs and wrappers. 'Look,
+Miriam, at that handsome chap, who belongs to our neighborhood.' Miriam
+looked. 'A Jew? No. That can't be. He walks erect, with a firm step, and
+our men walk haltingly, with their legs doubled as if they were about to
+kneel. He has teeth like a wolf and eyes like daggers. He doesn't lower
+his head nor his gaze.' And that's how you are. Miriam was right. You
+stand out from among all the young men of my blood. Not that they lack
+courage; there are some as strong as the Maccabees; Massena, Napoleon's
+companion, was one of us, but the natural attitude of them all, before
+they are transformed by anger, is one of humility and submission. We
+have been persecuted so much!... You have grown up in a different
+environment."</p>
+
+<p>Afterwards the young woman seemed to regret her words. She was a bad
+Jewess; she scarcely had any faith in her beliefs and in her people; she
+went to the synagogue only on the Day of Atonement and on the occasion
+of other solemn, unavoidable ceremonies.</p>
+
+<p>"I believe that I've been waiting for you forever. Now I am sure that I
+knew you long before seeing you. When I saw you for the first time, on
+that day during the Feast of the Tabernacles, I felt that something
+grave and decisive had occurred in my life. When I learned who you were,
+I became your slave and hungered anxiously for your first word."</p>
+
+<p>Ah, Spain!... She was like old Aboab; her thoughts had often flown to
+the beautiful land of her forefathers, wrapped in mystery. At times she
+recalled it only to hate it, as one hates a beloved person, for his
+betrayals and his cruelties, without ceasing to love him. At others, she
+called to mind with delight the tales she had heard from her
+grandmother's lips, the songs with which she had been lulled to sleep as
+a child,&mdash;all the legends of the old Castilian land, abode of treasures,
+enchantments and love affairs, comparable only to the Bagdad of the
+Arabs, to the wonderful city of the thousand and one nights. Upon
+holidays, when the Jews remained secluded in the bosom of the family,
+old Aboab or Miriam, her nurse, had many a time beguiled her with
+ancient ballads in the manner of old Castile, that had been transmitted
+from generation to generation; stories of love affairs between arrogant,
+knightly Christians and beautiful Jewesses with fair complexions, large
+eyes and thick, ebony tresses, just like the holy beauties of the
+Scriptures.</p>
+
+<p class="n">
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">En la ciudad de Toledo,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">en la ciudad de Granada,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">hay un garrido mancebo</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">que Diego Le&oacute;n se llama.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Namorose de Thamar,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 4em;">que era hebrea castellana....</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>(In the city of Toledo, in the city of Granada, there is a handsome
+youth called Diego Leon. He fell in love with Tamar, who was a Spanish
+Jewess....)</p>
+
+<p>There still echoed in her memory fragments of these ancient chronicles
+that had brought many a tremor to her dreamy childhood. She desired to
+be Tamar; she would have waited years and years for the handsome youth,
+who would be as brave and arrogant as Judas Maccabeus himself, the Cid
+of the Jews, the lion of Judea, the lion of lions; and now her hopes
+were being fulfilled, and her hero had appeared at last, coming out of
+the land of mystery, with his conqueror's stride, his haughty head, his
+dagger eyes, as Miriam said. How proud it made her feel! And
+instinctively, as if she feared that the apparition would vanish, she
+slipped her hand about Aguirre's arm, leaning against him with caressing
+humility.</p>
+
+<p>They had reached Europa Point, the outermost lighthouse of the
+promontory. On an esplanade surrounded by military buildings there was a
+group of ruddy young men, their khaki trousers held in place by leather
+braces and their arms bare, kicking and driving a huge ball about. They
+were soldiers. They stopped their game for a moment to let the couple
+pass. There was not a single glance for Luna from this group of strong,
+clean-living youths, who had been trained to a cold sexuality by
+physical fatigue and the cult of brawn.</p>
+
+<p>As they turned a corner of the promontory they continued their walk on
+the eastern side of the cliff. This part was unoccupied; here tempests
+and the raging winds from the Levant came to vent their fury. On this
+side were no other fortifications than those of the summit, almost
+hidden by the clouds which, coming from the sea, encountered the
+gigantic rampart of rock and scaled the peaks as if assaulting them.</p>
+
+<p>The road, hewn out of the rough declivity, meandered through gardens
+wild with African exuberance. The pear trees extended, like green
+fences, their serried rows of prickle-laden leaves; the century-plants
+opened like a profusion of bayonets, blackish or salmon-red in color;
+the old agaves shot their stalks into the air straight as masts, which
+were topped by extended branches that gave them the appearance of
+telegraph poles. In the midst of this wild vegetation arose the lonely
+summer residence of the governor. Beyond was solitude, silence,
+interrupted only by the roar of the sea as it disappeared into invisible
+caves.</p>
+
+<p>Soon the two lovers noticed, at a great distance, signs of motion amidst
+the vegetation of the slope. The stones rolled down as if some one were
+pushing them under his heel; the wild plants bent under an impulse of
+flight, and shrill sounds, as if coming from a child being maltreated,
+rent the air. Aguirre, concentrating his attention, thought he saw some
+gray forms jumping amid the dark verdure.</p>
+
+<p>"Those are the monkeys of the Rock," said Luna calmly, as she had seen
+them many times.</p>
+
+<p>At the end of the path was the famous Cave of the Monkeys. Now Aguirre
+could see them plainly, and they looked like agile, shaggy-haired
+bundles jumping from rock to rock, sending the loose pebbles rolling
+from under their hands and feet and showing, as they fled, the inflamed
+protuberances under their stiff tails.</p>
+
+<p>Before coming up to the Cave of the Monkeys the two lovers paused. The
+end of the road was in sight a little further along abruptly cut off by
+a precipitous projection of the rock. At the other side, invisible, was
+the bay of the Catalanes with its town of fisherfolk,&mdash;the only
+dependency of Gibraltar. The cliff, in this solitude, acquired a savage
+grandeur. Human beings were as nothing; natural forces here had free
+range, with all their impetuous majesty. From the road could be seen the
+sea far, far below. The boats, diminished by the distance, seemed like
+black insects with antennae of smoke, or white butterflies with their
+wings spread. The waves seemed only light curls on the immense blue
+plain.</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre wished to go down and contemplate at closer range the gigantic
+wall which the sea beat against. A rough, rocky path led, in a straight
+line, to an entrance hewn out of the stone, backed by a ruined wall, a
+hemispherical sentry-box and several shanties whose roofs had been
+carried off by the tempests. These were the d&eacute;bris of old
+fortifications,&mdash;perhaps dating back to the time in which the Spaniards
+had tried to reconquer the place.</p>
+
+<p>As Luna descended, with uncertain step, supported by her lover's hand
+and scattering pebbles at every turn, the melodious silence of the sea
+was broken by a reverberating <i>raack!</i> as if a hundred fans had been
+brusquely opened. For a few seconds everything vanished from before
+their eyes; the blue waters, the red crags, the foam of the
+breakers,&mdash;under a flying cloud of grayish white that spread out at
+their feet. This was formed by hundreds of sea-gulls who had been
+frightened from their place of refuge and were taking to flight; there
+were old, huge gulls, as fat as hens, young gulls, as white and graceful
+as doves. They flew off uttering shrill cries, and as this cloud of
+fluttering wings dissolved, there came into view with all its grandeur,
+the promontory and the deep waters that beat against it in ceaseless
+undulation.</p>
+
+<p>It was necessary to raise one's head and to lift one's eyes to behold in
+all its height this fortress of Nature, sheer, gray, without any sign of
+human presence other than the flagstaff visible at the summit, as small
+as a toy. Over all the extensive face of this enormous cliff there was
+no other projection than several masses of dark vegetation, clumps
+suspended from the rock. Below, the waves receded and advanced, like
+blue bulls that retreat a few paces so as to attack with all the greater
+force; as an evidence of this continuous assault, which had been going
+on for centuries and centuries, there were the crevices opened in the
+rock, the mouths of the caves, gates of ghostly suggestion and mystery
+through which the waves plunged with terror-inspiring roar. The d&eacute;bris
+of these openings, the fragments of the ageless assaults,&mdash;loosened
+crags, piled up by the tempests,&mdash;formed a chain of reefs between whose
+teeth the sea combed its foamy hair or raged with livid frothing on
+stormy days.</p>
+
+<p>The lovers remained seated among the old fortifications, beholding at
+their feet the blue immensity and before their eyes the seemingly
+interminable wall that barred from sight a great part of the horizon.
+Perhaps on the other side of the cliff the gold of the sunset was still
+shining. On this side already the shades of night were gently falling.
+The sweethearts were silent, overwhelmed by the silence of the spot,
+united to each other by an impulse of fear, crushed by their
+insignificance in the midst of this annihilating vastness, even as two
+Egyptian ants in the shadow of the Great Pyramid.</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre felt the necessity of saying something, and his voice took on a
+grave character, as if in those surroundings, impregnated with the
+majesty of Nature, it was impossible to speak otherwise.</p>
+
+<p>"I love you," he began, with the incongruity of one who passes without
+transition from long meditation to the spoken word. "I love you, for you
+are of my race and yet you are not; because you speak my language and
+yet your blood is not my blood. You possess the grace and beauty of the
+Spanish woman, yet there is something more in you,&mdash;something exotic,
+that speaks to me of distant lands, of poetic things, of unknown
+perfumes that I seem to smell whenever I am near you.... And you, Luna.
+Why do you love me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I love you," she replied, after a long silence, her voice solemn and
+veiled like that of an emotional soprano, "I love you because you, too,
+have something in your face that resembles those of my race, and yet you
+are as distinct from them as is the servant from the master. I love
+you... I don't know why. In me there dwells the soul of the ancient
+Jewesses of the desert, who went to the well in the oasis with their
+hair let down and their pitchers on their heads. Then came the Gentile
+stranger, with his camels, begging water; she looked at him with her
+solemn, deep eyes, and as she poured the water in between her white
+hands she gave him her heart, her whole soul, and followed him like a
+slave.... Your people killed and robbed mine; for centuries my
+forefathers wept in strange lands the loss of their new Zion, their
+beautiful land, their nest of consolation. I ought to hate you, but I
+love you; I am yours and will follow you wherever you go." The blue
+shadows of the promontory became deeper. It was almost night. The
+sea-gulls, shrieking, retired to their hiding-places in the rocks. The
+sea commenced to disappear beneath a thin mist. The lighthouse of Europe
+shone like a diamond from afar in the heavens above the Strait, which
+were still clear. A sweet somnolence seemed to arise from the dying day,
+enveloping all Nature. The two human atoms, lost in this immensity, felt
+themselves invaded by the universal tremor, oblivious to all that but a
+short time before had constituted their lives. They forgot the presence
+of the city on the other side of the mountain; the existence of
+humanity, of which they were infinitesimal parts.... Completely alone,
+penetrating each other through their pupils! Thus, thus forever! There
+was a crackling sound in the dark, like dry branches creaking before
+they break.</p>
+
+<p>All at once a red flash sped through the air,&mdash;something straight and
+rapid as the flight of a fiery bird. Then the mountain trembled and the
+sea echoed under a dry thunder. The sunset gun!... A timely boom.</p>
+
+<p>The two shuddered as though just awakening from a dream. Luna, as if in
+flight, ran down the path in search of the main road, without listening
+to Aguirre.... She was going to get home late; she would never visit
+that spot again. It was dangerous.</p>
+
+<h2 class="f"><a name="IV" id="IV"></a><a href="#toc">IV</a></h2>
+
+<p class="n"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE consul wandered through Royal Street, his pipe out, his glance sad
+and his cane hanging from his arm. He was depressed. When, during his
+walking back and forth he stopped instinctively before Khiamull's shop,
+he had to pass on. Khiamull was not there. Behind the counter were only
+two clerks, as greenish in complexion as their employer. His poor friend
+was in the hospital, in the hope that a few days of rest away from the
+damp gloom of the shop would be sufficient to relieve him of the cough
+that seemed to unhinge his body and make him throw up blood. He came
+from the land of the sun and needed its divine caress.</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre might have stopped at the Aboabs' establishment, but he was
+somewhat afraid. The old man whimpered with emotion, as usual, when he
+spoke to the consul, but in his kindly, patriarchal gestures there was
+something new that seemed to repel the Spaniard. Zabulon received him
+with a grunt and would continue counting money.</p>
+
+<p>For four days Aguirre had not seen Luna. The hours that he spent at his
+window, vainly watching the house of the Aboabs! Nobody on the roof;
+nobody behind the blinds, as if the house were unoccupied. Several times
+he encountered on the street the wife and daughters of Zabulon, but they
+passed him by pretending not to see him, solemn and haughty in their
+imposing obesity.</p>
+
+<p>Luna was no more to be seen than as if she had left Gibraltar. One
+morning he thought he recognized her delicate hand opening the blinds;
+he imagined that he could distinguish, through the green strips of
+wood, the ebony crown of her hair, and her luminous eyes raised toward
+him. But it was a fleeting apparition that lasted only a second. When he
+tried to make a gesture of entreaty, when he moved his arms imploring
+her to wait, Luna had already disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>How was he to approach her, breaking through the guarded aloofness in
+which Jewish families dwell? To whom was he to go for an explanation of
+this unexpected change?... Braving the icy reception with which the
+Aboabs greeted him, he entered their place under various pretexts. The
+proprietors received him with frigid politeness, as if he were an
+unwelcome customer. The Jews who came in on business eyed him with
+insolent curiosity, as if but a short time before they had been
+discussing him.</p>
+
+<p>One morning he saw, engaged in conversation with Zabulon, a man of about
+forty, of short stature, somewhat round shouldered with spectacles. He
+wore a high silk hat, a loose coat and a large golden chain across his
+waistcoat. In a somewhat sing-song voice he was speaking of the
+greatness of Buenos Aires, of the future that awaited those of his race
+in that city, of the good business he had done. The affectionate
+attention with which the old man and his son listened to the man
+suggested a thought to Aguirre that sent all the blood to his heart, at
+the same time producing a chill in the rest of his body. He shuddered
+with surprise. Could it be <i>he</i>?... And after a few seconds,
+instinctively, without any solid grounds, he himself gave the answer.
+Yes; it was he; there had been no mistake. Without a doubt he beheld
+before him Luna's promised husband, who had just returned from South
+America. And if he still had any doubts as to the correctness of his
+conjecture, he was strengthened in his belief by a rapid glance from the
+man,&mdash;a cold, scornful look that was cast upon him furtively, while the
+looker continued to speak with his relatives.</p>
+
+<p>That night he saw him again on Royal Street. He saw him, but not alone.
+He was arm in arm with Luna, who was dressed in black; Luna, who leaned
+upon him as if he were already her husband; the two walked along with
+all the freedom of Jewish engaged couples. She did not see Aguirre or
+did not wish to see him. As she passed him by she turned her head,
+pretending to be engrossed in conversation with her companion.</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre's friends, who were gathered in a group on the sidewalk before
+the Exchange, laughed at the meeting, with the light-heartedness of
+persons who look upon love only as a pastime.</p>
+
+<p>"Friend," said one of them to the Spaniard, "they've stolen her away
+from you. The Jew's carrying her off.... It couldn't have been
+otherwise. They marry only among themselves... and that girl has lots of
+money."</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre did not sleep a wink that night; he lay awake planning the most
+horrible deeds of vengeance. In any other country he knew what he would
+do; he would insult the Jew, slap him, fight a duel, kill him; and if
+the man did not respond to such provocation, he would pursue him until
+he left the field free.... But he lived here in another world; a country
+that was ignorant of the knightly procedure of ancient peoples. A
+challenge to a duel would cause laughter, like something silly and
+extravagant. He could, of course, attack his enemy right in the street,
+bring him to his knees and kill him if he tried to defend himself. But
+ah! English justice did not recognize love nor did it accept the
+existence of crimes of passion. Yonder, half way up the slope of the
+mountain, in the ruins of the castle that had been occupied by the
+Moorish kings of Gibraltar, he had seen the prison, filled with men from
+all lands, especially Spaniards, incarcerated for life because they had
+drawn the poniard under the impulse of love or jealousy, just as they
+were accustomed to doing a few metres further on, at the other side of
+the boundary. The whip worked with the authorization of the law; men
+languished and died turning the wheel of the pump. A cold, methodical
+cruelty, a thousand times worse than the fanatic savagery of the
+Inquisition, devoured human creatures, giving them nothing more than the
+exact amount of sustenance necessary to prolong their torture.... No.
+This was another world, where his jealousy and his fury could find no
+vent. And he would have to lose Luna without a cry of protest, without a
+gesture of manly rebellion!...Now, upon beholding himself parted from
+her, he felt for the first time the genuine importance of his love; a
+love that had been begun as a pastime, through an exotic curiosity, and
+which was surely going to upset his entire existence... What was he to
+do?</p>
+
+<p>He recalled the words of one of those inhabitants of Gibraltar who had
+accompanied him on Royal Street,&mdash;a strange mixture of Andalusian
+sluggishness and British apathy.</p>
+
+<p>"Take my word for it, friend, the chief Rabbi and those of the synagogue
+have a hand in this. You were scandalizing them; everybody saw you
+making love in public. You don't realize how important one of these
+fellows is. They enter the homes of the faithful and run everything,
+giving out orders that nobody dares to disobey."</p>
+
+<p>The following day Aguirre did not leave his street, and either walked up
+and down in front of the Aboabs' house or stood motionless at the
+entrance to his hotel, without losing sight for a moment of Luna's
+dwelling. Perhaps she would come out! After the meeting of the previous
+day she must have lost her fear. They must have a talk. Here it was
+three months since he had come to Gibraltar, forgetting his career, in
+danger of ruining it, abusing the influence of his relatives. And was he
+going to leave that woman without exchanging a final word, without
+knowing the cause for the sudden overturn?...</p>
+
+<p>Toward night-fall Aguirre experienced a strange shudder of emotion,
+similar to that which he had felt in the brokers' shop upon beholding
+the Jew that had just returned from South America. A woman came out of
+the Aboabs' house; she was dressed in black. It was Luna, just as he had
+seen her the day before.</p>
+
+<p>She turned her head slowly and Aguirre understood that she had seen
+him,&mdash;that perhaps she had been watching him for a long time hidden
+behind the blinds. She began to walk hastily, without turning her head,
+and Aguirre followed her at a certain distance, on the opposite
+sidewalk, jostling through the groups of Spanish workmen who, with their
+bundles in their hands, were returning from the Arsenal to the town of
+La L&iacute;nea, before the sunset gun should sound and the place be closed.
+Thus he shadowed her along Royal Street, and as she arrived at the
+Exchange, Luna continued by way of Church Street, passing by the
+Catholic Cathedral. Here there were less people about and the shops were
+fewer; except at the corners of the lanes where there were small groups
+of men that had formed on coming from work. Aguirre quickened his gait
+so as to catch up with Luna, while she, as if she had guessed his
+intention, slackened her step. As they reached the rear of the
+Protestant church, near the opening called Cathedral Square, the two
+met.</p>
+
+<p>"Luna! Luna!..."</p>
+
+<p>She turned her glance upon Aguirre, and then instinctively they made for
+the end of the square, fleeing from the publicity of the street. They
+came to the Moorish arcades of the evangelist temple, whose colors were
+beginning to grow pale, vanishing into the shade of dusk. Before either
+of them could utter a word they were enveloped in a wave of soft
+melody,&mdash;music that seemed to come from afar, stray chords from the
+organ, the voices of virgins and children who were chanting in English
+with bird-like notes the glory of the Lord.</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre was at a loss for words. All his angry thoughts were forgotten.
+He felt like crying, like kneeling and begging something of that God,
+whoever He might be, who was at the other side of the walls, lulled by
+the hymn from the throat of the mystic birds with firm and virginal
+voices:</p>
+
+<p>"Luna!... Luna!"</p>
+
+<p>He could say nothing else, but the Jewess, stronger than he and less
+sensitive to that music which was not hers, spoke to him in a low and
+hurried voice. She had stolen out just to see him; she must talk with
+him, say good-bye. It was the last time they would meet.</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre heard her without fully understanding her words. All his
+attention was concentrated upon her eyes, as if the five days in which
+they had not met were the same as a long voyage, and as if he were
+seeking in Luna's countenance some effect of the extended lapse of time
+that had intervened. Was she the same?... Yes it was she. But her lips
+were somewhat pale with emotion; she pressed her lids tightly together
+as if every word cost her a prodigious effort, as if every one of them
+tore out part of her soul. Her lashes, as they met, revealed in the
+corner of her eyes lines that seemed to indicate fatigue, recent tears,
+sudden age.</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard was at last able to understand what she was saying. But was
+it all true?... To part! Why? Why?... And as he stretched his arms out
+to her in the vehemence of his entreaty Luna became paler still,
+huddling together timidly, her eyes dilated with fear.</p>
+
+<p>It was impossible for their love to continue. She must look upon all the
+past as a beautiful dream; perhaps the best of her life... but the
+moment of waking had come. She was marrying, thus fulfilling her duty
+toward her family and her race. The past had been a wild escapade, a
+childish flight of her exalted and romantic nature. The wise men of her
+people had clearly pointed out to her the dangerous consequences of such
+frivolity. She must follow her destiny and be as her mother had
+been,&mdash;like all the women of her blood. Upon the following day she was
+going to Tangier with her promised husband, Isaac Nu&ntilde;ez. He himself and
+her relatives had counselled her to have one last interview with the
+Spaniard, so as to put an end to an equivocal situation that might
+compromise the honor of a good merchant and destroy the tranquility of a
+peaceful man. They would marry at Tangier, where her fianc&eacute;'s family
+lived; perhaps they would remain there; perhaps they would journey to
+South America and resume business there. At any rate, their love, their
+sweet adventure, their divine dream, was ended forever.</p>
+
+<p>"Forever!" murmured Luis in a muffled voice. "Say it again. I hear it
+from your lips, yet I can't believe my ears. Say it once more. I wish to
+make sure."</p>
+
+<p>His voice was filled with supplication but at the same time his clenched
+hand and his threatening glance terrified Luna, who opened her eyes wide
+and pressed her lips tightly together, as if restraining a sob. The
+Jewess seemed to grow old in the shadows.</p>
+
+<p>The fiery bird of twilight flashed through the air with its fluttering
+of red wings. Closely following came a thunderclap that made the houses
+and ground tremble.... The sunset gun! Aguirre, in his agony, could see
+in his mind's eye a high wall of crags, flying gulls, the foamy, roaring
+sea, a misty evening light, the same as that which now enveloped them.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you remember, Luna? Do you remember?"...</p>
+
+<p>The roll of drums sounded from a near-by street, accompanied by the
+shrill notes of the fife and the deep boom of the bass drum, drowning
+with its belligerent sound the mystic, ethereal chants that seemed to
+filter through the walls of the temple. It was the evening patrol on its
+way to close the gates of the town. The soldiers, clad in uniforms of
+greyish yellow, marched by, in time with the tune from their
+instruments, while above their cloth helmets waved the arms of the
+gymnast who was deafening the street with his blows upon the drum head.</p>
+
+<p>The two waited for the noisy patrol to pass. As the soldiers disappeared
+in the distance the melodies from the celestial choir inside the church
+returned slowly to the ears of the listeners.</p>
+
+<p>The Spaniard was abject, imploring, passing from his threatening
+attitude to one of humble supplication.</p>
+
+<p>"Luna... Lunita! What you say is not true. It cannot be. To separate
+like this? Don't listen to any of them. Follow the dictates of your
+heart. There is still a chance for us to be happy. Instead of going off
+with that man whom you do not love, whom you surely cannot love, flee
+with me."</p>
+
+<p>"No," she replied firmly, closing her eyes as though she feared to
+weaken if she looked at him. "No. That is impossible. Your God is not my
+God. Your people, not my people."</p>
+
+<p>In the Catholic Cathedral, near by, but out of sight, the bell rang with
+a slow, infinitely melancholy reverberation. Within the Protestant
+Church the choir of virgins was beginning a new hymn, like a flock of
+joyous birds winging about the organ. Afar, gradually becoming fainter
+and fainter and losing itself in the streets that were covered by the
+shadows of night, sounded the thunder of the patrol and the playful
+lisping of the fifes, hymning the universal power of England to the tune
+of circus music.</p>
+
+<p>"Your God! Your people!" exclaimed the Spaniard sadly. "Here, where
+there are so many Gods! Here, where everybody is of your people!...
+Forget all that. We are all equals in life. There is only one truth:
+Love."</p>
+
+<p>"Ding, dong!" groaned the bell aloft in the Catholic Cathedral, weeping
+the death of day. "Lead Kindly Light!" sang the voices of the virgins
+and the children in the Protestant temple, resounding through the
+twilight silence of the square.</p>
+
+<p>"No," answered Luna harshly, with an expression that Aguirre had never
+seen in her before; she seemed to be another woman. "No. You have a
+land, you have a nation, and you may well laugh at races and religions,
+placing love above them. We, on the other hand, wherever we may be born,
+and however much the laws may proclaim us the equals of others, are
+always called Jews, and Jews we must remain, whether we will or no. Our
+land, our nation, our only banner, is the religion of our ancestors. And
+you ask me to desert it,&mdash;to abandon my people?... Sheer madness!"</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre listened to her in amazement.</p>
+
+<p>"Luna, I don't recognize you.... Luna, Lunita, you are another woman
+altogether.... Do you know what I'm thinking of at this moment? I'm
+thinking of your mother, whom I did not know."</p>
+
+<p>He recalled those nights of cruel uncertainty, when Luna's mother tore
+her jet-black hair before the bed in which her child lay gasping; how
+she tried to deceive the demon, the hated <i>Huerco</i>, who came to rob her
+of her beloved daughter.</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! I, too, Luna, feel the simple faith of your mother,&mdash;her innocent
+credulity. Love and despair simplify our souls and remove from them the
+proud tinsel with which we clothe them in moments of happiness and
+pride; love and despair render us by their mystery, timid and
+respectful, like the simplest of creatures. I feel what your poor mother
+felt during those nights. I shudder at the presence of the <i>Huerco</i> in
+our midst. Perhaps it's that old fellow with the goat's whiskers who is
+at the head of your people here; all of you are a materialistic sort,
+without imagination, incapable of knowing true love; it seems impossible
+that you can be one of them.... You, Luna! You! Don't laugh at what I
+say. But I feel a strong desire to kneel down here before you, to
+stretch out upon the ground and cry: '<i>Huerco</i>, what do you wish? Have
+you come to carry off my Luna?... Luna is not here. She has gone
+forever. This woman here is my beloved, my wife. She has no name yet,
+but I'll give her one.' And to seize you in my arms, as your mother did,
+to defend you against the black demon, and then to see you saved, and
+mine forever; to confirm your new name with my caresses, and to call
+you... my Only One, yes, my Only One. Do you like the name?... Let our
+lives be lived together, with the whole world as our home."</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head sadly. Very beautiful. One dream more. A few days
+earlier these words would have moved her and would have made her weep.
+But now!... And with cruel insistence she repeated "No, no. My God is
+not your God. My race is not your race. Why should we persist in
+attempting the impossible?..."</p>
+
+<p>When her people had spoken indignantly about the love affair that was
+being bruited all about town; when the spiritual head of her community
+came to her with the ire of an ancient prophet; when accident, or
+perhaps the warning of a fellow Jew, had brought about the return of her
+betrothed, Isaac Nu&ntilde;ez, Luna felt awaking within her something that had
+up to that time lain dormant. The dregs of old beliefs, hatreds and
+hopes were stirred in the very depths of her thought, changing her
+affections and imposing new duties. She was a Jewess and would remain
+faithful to her race. She would not go to lose herself in barren
+isolation among strange persons who hated the Jew through inherited
+instinct. Among her own kind she would enjoy the influence of the wife
+that is listened to in all family councils, and when she would become
+old, her children would surround her with a religious veneration. She
+did not feel strong enough to suffer the hatred and suspicion of that
+hostile world into which love was trying to drag her,&mdash;a world that had
+presented her people only with tortures and indignities. She wished to
+be loyal to her race, to continue the defensive march that her nation
+was realizing across centuries of persecution.</p>
+
+<p>Soon she was inspired with compassion at the dejection of her former
+sweetheart, and she spoke to him more gently. She could no longer feign
+calmness or indifference. Did he think that she could ever forget him?
+Ah! Those days had been the sweetest in all her existence; the romance
+of her life, the blue flower that all women, even the most ordinary,
+carry within their memories like a breath of poesy.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you imagine that I don't know what my lot is going to be like?...
+You were the unexpected, the sweet disturbance that beautifies life, the
+happiness of love which finds joy in all that surrounds it and never
+gives thought to the morrow. You are a man that stands out from all the
+rest; I know that. I'll many, I'll have many children,&mdash;many!&mdash;for our
+race is inexhaustible, and at night my husband will talk to me for hour
+after hour about what we earned during the day. You... you are
+different. Perhaps I would have had to suffer, to be on my guard lest
+I'd lose you, but with all that you are happiness, you are illusion."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I am all that," said Aguirre "I am all that because I love you....
+Do you realize what you are doing, Luna? It is as if they laid thousands
+and thousands of silver pounds upon the counter before Zabulon, and he
+turned his back upon them, scorning them and preferring the synagogue.
+Do you believe such a thing possible?... Very well, then. Love is a
+fortune. It is like beauty, riches, power; all who are born have a
+chance of acquiring one of these boons, but very few actually attain to
+them. All live and die believing that they have known love, thinking it
+a common thing, because they confuse it with animal satisfaction; but
+love is a privilege, love is a lottery of fate, like wealth, like
+beauty, which only a small minority enjoy.... And when love comes more
+than half way to meet you, Luna, Lunita,&mdash;when fate places happiness
+right in your hands, you turn your back upon it and walk off!...
+Consider it well! There is yet time! Today, as I walked along Royal
+Street I saw the ship notices. Tomorrow there's a boat sailing for Port
+Said. Courage! Let us flee!... We'll wait there for a boat to take us to
+Australia."</p>
+
+<p>Luna raised her head proudly. Farewell to her look of compassion!
+Farewell to the melancholy mood in which she had listened to the
+youth!... Her eyes shone with a steely glance; her voice was cruel and
+concise.</p>
+
+<p>"Goodnight!"</p>
+
+<p>And she turned her back upon him, beginning to walk as if taking flight.
+Aguirre hastened after her, soon reaching her side.</p>
+
+<p>"And that's how you leave me!" he exclaimed. "Like this, never to meet
+again... Can a love that was our very life end in such a manner?..."</p>
+
+<p>The hymn had ceased in the evangelical temple; the Catholic bell was
+silent; the military music had died out at the other end of the town. A
+painful silence enveloped the two lovers. To Aguirre it seemed as if the
+world were deserted, as if the light had died forever, and that in the
+midst of the chaos and the eternal darkness he and she were the only
+living creatures.</p>
+
+<p>"At least give me your hand; let me feel it in mine for the last
+time.... Don't you care to?"</p>
+
+<p>She seemed to hesitate, but finally extended her right hand. How
+lifeless it was! How icy!</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye, Luis," she said curtly, turning her eyes away so as not to
+see him.</p>
+
+<p>She spoke more, however. She felt that impulse of giving consolation
+which animates all women at times of great grief. He must not despair.
+Life held sweet hopes in store for him. He was going to see the world;
+he was still young....</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre spoke from between clenched teeth, to himself, as if he had gone
+mad. Young! As if grief paid attention to ages! A week before he had
+been thirty years old; now he felt as old as the world.</p>
+
+<p>Luna made an effort to release herself, trembling for herself, uncertain
+of her will power.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye! Good-bye!"</p>
+
+<p>This time she really departed, and he allowed her to leave, lacking the
+strength with which to follow her.</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre passed a sleepless night, seated at the edge of his bed, gazing
+with stupid fixity at the designs upon the wall-paper. To think that
+this could have happened! And he, no stronger than a mere child, had
+permitted her to leave him forever!... Several times he was surprised to
+catch himself speaking aloud.</p>
+
+<p>"No. No. It cannot be.... It <i>shall</i> not be!"</p>
+
+<p>The light went out, of its own accord, and Aguirre continued to
+soliloquize, without knowing what he was saying. "It shall not be! It
+shall not be!" he murmured emphatically. But passing from rage to
+despair he asked himself what he could do to retain her, to end his
+torture.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing! His misfortune was irreparable. They were going to resume the
+course of their lives, each on a different road; they were going to
+embark on the following day, each to an opposite pole of the earth, and
+each would carry away nothing of the other, save a memory; and this
+memory, under the tooth of time, would become ever smaller, more
+fragile, more delicate. And this was the end of such a great love! This
+was the finale of a passion that had been born to fill an entire
+existence! And the earth did not tremble, and nobody was moved, and the
+world ignored this great sorrow, even as it would ignore the misfortunes
+of a pair of ants. Ah! Misery!...</p>
+
+<p>He would roam about the world carrying his recollections with him, and
+perhaps some day he would come to forget them, for one can live only by
+forgetting; but when his grief should dissolve with the years he would
+be left an empty man, like a smiling automaton, incapable of any
+affections other than material ones. And thus he would go on living
+until he should grow old and die. And she, the beautiful creature, who
+seemed to scatter music and incense at every step,&mdash;the incomparable
+one, the only one,&mdash;would likewise grow old, far from his side. She
+would be one more Jewish wife, an excellent mother of a family, grown
+stout from domestic life, flabby and shapeless from the productivity of
+her race, with a brood of children about her, preoccupied at all hours
+with the earnings of the family, a full moon, cumbrous, yellow, without
+the slightest resemblance to the springtime star that had illuminated
+the fleeting and best moments of his life. What a jest of fate!...
+Farewell forever, Luna!... No, not Luna. Farewell, Horabuena!</p>
+
+<p>On the next day he took passage on the ship that was leaving for Port
+Said. What was there for him to do in Gibraltar?... It had been for
+three months a paradise, at the side of the woman who beautified his
+existence; now it was an intolerable city, cramped and monotonous; a
+deserted castle; a damp, dark prison. He telegraphed to his uncle,
+informing him of his departure. The vessel would weigh anchor at night,
+after the sunset gun, when it had taken on its supply of coal.</p>
+
+<p>The hotel people brought him news. Khiamull had died at the hospital, in
+the full possession of his mental faculties as is characteristic of
+consumptives, and had spoken of the distant land of the sun, of its
+virgins, dark and slender as bronze statues, crowned with the lotus
+flower. A hemorrhage had put an end to his hopes. All the town was
+talking about his burial. His compatriots, the Hindu shopkeepers, had
+sent a delegation to the governor and made arrangements for the funeral
+rites. They were going to cremate the body on the outskirts of the town,
+on the beach that faced the East. His remains must not rot in impure
+soil. The English governor, deferent toward the creeds of his various
+subjects, presented them with the necessary wood. At night-fall they
+would dig a hollow on the beach, fill it with shavings and faggots; then
+they would put in large logs, and the corpse; on top of this, more wood,
+and after the pyre had ceased to burn for lack of fuel Khiamull's
+religious brethren would gather the ashes and bear them off in a boat to
+scatter them at sea.</p>
+
+<p>Aguirre listened coldly to these details. Happy Khiamull, who was
+departing thus! Fire, plenty of fire! Would that he could burn the town,
+and the near-by lands, and finally the whole world!...</p>
+
+<p>At ten o'clock the transatlantic liner raised anchor. The Spaniard,
+leaning over the rail, saw the black mountain and the huge Rock, its
+base speckled with rows of lights, grow small as if sinking into the
+horizon. Its obscure ridge was silhouetted against the sky like a
+crouching monster toying with a swarm of stars between its paws.</p>
+
+<p>The vessel rounded Europa Point and the lights disappeared. Now the
+cliff was visible from its Eastern face, black, imposing, bare, with no
+other light than that of the lighthouse at its extreme end.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly a new light arose,&mdash;a red line, a perpendicular flame,&mdash;at the
+foot of the mountain, as if it came out of the sea. Aguirre guessed what
+it was. Poor Khiamull! The flames were beginning to consume his body
+upon the beach. The bronze-faced men were at this moment gathered about
+the pyre, like priests of a remote civilization, hastening the disposal
+of their companion's remains.</p>
+
+<p>Farewell, Khiamull! He had died with his hope placed in the Orient,&mdash;the
+land of love and perfumes, the abode of delights,&mdash;without having been
+able to realize his dreams. And here was Aguirre traveling thither with
+an empty heart, a paralyzed soul, wearied and bereft of strength, as if
+he had just emerged from the most terrible of ordeals.</p>
+
+<p>"Farewell, melancholy and gentle Hindu, poor poet who dreamed of light
+and love as you sold your trinkets in that damp hole!..." His remains,
+purified by flame, were going to be lost in the bosom of the great
+mother. Perhaps his delicate, bird-like soul would survive in the
+sea-gulls that fluttered about the cliff; perhaps he would sing in the
+roaring foam of the submarine caverns, as an accompaniment to the vows
+of other lovers who would come there in their turn, on the impulse of
+the deceptive illusion, the sweet lie of love that gives us new strength
+to continue on our way.</p>
+
+<p class="c"><span class="smcap">END</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h2 class="f"><a name="THE_TOAD" id="THE_TOAD"></a><a href="#toc">THE TOAD</a></h2>
+
+<p class="n"><span class="dropcap1">"</span><span class="dropcap">I</span><span style="margin-left: -2.5%;">W</span>AS spending the summer at Nazaret," said my friend Orduna, "a little
+fishermen's town near Valencia. The women went to the city to sell the
+fish, the men sailed about in their boats with triangular sails, or
+tugged at their nets on the beach; we summer vacationists spent the day
+sleeping and the night at the doors of our houses, contemplating the
+phosphorescence of the waves or slapping ourselves here and there
+whenever we heard the buzz of a mosquito,&mdash;that scourge of our resting
+hours.</p>
+
+<p>"The doctor, a hardy and genial old fellow, would come and sit down
+under the bower before my door, and we'd spend the night together, with
+a jar or a watermelon at our side, speaking of his patients, folks of
+land or sea, credulous, rough and insolent in their manners, given over
+to fishing or to the cultivation of their fields. At times we laughed as
+he recalled the illness of Visanteta, the daughter of <i>la Soberana</i>, an
+old fishmonger who justified her nickname of <i>the Queen</i> by her bulk and
+her stature, as well as by the arrogance with which she treated her
+market companions, imposing her will upon them by right of might.... The
+belle of the place was this Visanteta: tiny, malicious, with a clever
+tongue, and no other good looks than that of youthful health; but she
+had a pair of penetrating eyes and a trick of pretending timidity,
+weakness and interest, which simply turned the heads of the village
+youths. Her sweetheart was <i>Carafosca</i>, a brave fisherman who was
+capable of sailing on a stick of wood. On the sea he was admired by all
+for his audacity; on land he filled everybody with fear by his provoking
+silence and the facility with which he whipped out his aggressive
+sailor's knife. Ugly, burly and always ready for a fight, like the huge
+creatures that from time to time showed up in the waters of Nazaret
+devouring all the fish, he would walk to church on Sunday afternoons at
+his sweetheart's side, and every time the maiden raised her head to
+speak to him, amidst the simple talk and lisping of a delicate, pampered
+child, <i>Carafosca</i> would cast a challenging look about him with his
+squinting eyes, as if defying all the folk of the fields, the beach and
+the sea to take his Visanteta away from him.</p>
+
+<p>"One day the most astounding news was bruited about Nazaret. The
+daughter of <i>la Soberana</i> had an animal inside of her. Her abdomen was
+swelling; the slow deformation revealed itself through her underskirts
+and her dress; her face lost color, and the fact that she had swooned
+several times, vomiting painfully, upset the entire cabin and caused her
+mother to burst into desperate lamentations and to run in terror for
+help. Many of her neighbors smiled when they heard of this illness. Let
+them tell it to <i>Carafosca</i>!... But the incredulous ones ceased their
+malicious talk and their suspicions when they saw how sad and desperate
+<i>Carafosca</i> became at his sweetheart's illness, praying for her recovery
+with all the fervor of a simple soul, even going so far as to enter the
+little village church,&mdash;he, who had always been a pagan, a blasphemer of
+God and the saints.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it was a strange and horrible sickness. The people, in their
+predisposition to believe in all sorts of extraordinary and rare
+afflictions, were certain that they knew what this was. Visanteta had a
+toad in her stomach. She had drunk from a certain spot of the near-by
+river, and the wicked animal, small and almost unnoticeable, had gone
+down into her stomach, growing fast. The good neighbors, trembling with
+stupefaction, flocked to <i>la Soberana's</i> cabin to examine the girl. All,
+with a certain solemnity, felt the swelling abdomen, seeking in its
+tightened surface the outlines of the hidden creature. Some of them,
+older and more experienced than the rest, laughed with a triumphant
+expression. There it was, right under their hand. They could feel it
+stirring, moving about.... Yes, it was moving! And after grave
+deliberation, they agreed upon remedies to expel the unwelcome guest.
+They gave the girl spoonfuls of rosemary honey, so that the wicked
+creature inside should start to eat it gluttonously, and when he was
+most preoccupied in his joyous meal, whiz!&mdash;an inundation of onion juice
+and vinegar that would bring him out at full gallop. At the same time
+they applied to her stomach miraculous plasters, so that the toad, left
+without a moment's rest, should escape in terror; there were rags soaked
+in brandy and saturated with incense; tangles of hemp dipped in the
+calking of the ships; mountain herbs; simple bits of paper with numbers,
+crosses and Solomon's seal upon them, sold by the miracle-worker of the
+city. Visanteta thought that all these remedies that were being thrust
+down her throat would be the death of her. She shuddered with the chills
+of nausea, she writhed in horrible contortions as if she were about to
+expel her very entrails, but the odious toad did not deign to show even
+one of his legs, and <i>la Soberana</i> cried to heaven. Ah, her daughter!...
+Those remedies would never succeed in casting out the wretched animal;
+it was better to let it alone, and not torture the poor girl; rather
+give it a great deal to eat, so that it wouldn't feed upon the strength
+of Visanteta who was glowing paler and weaker every day.</p>
+
+<p>"And as <i>la Soberana</i> was poor, all her friends, moved by the
+compassionate solidarity of the common people, devoted themselves to the
+feeding of Visanteta so that the toad should do her no harm. The
+fisherwomen, upon returning from the square brought her cakes that were
+purchased in city establishments, that only the upper class patronized;
+on the beach, when the catch was sorted, they laid aside for her a
+dainty morsel that would serve for a succulent soup; the neighbors, who
+happened to be cooking in their pots over the fire would take out a
+cupful of the best of the broth, carrying it slowly so that it shouldn't
+spill, and bring it to <i>la Soberana's</i> cabin; cups of chocolate arrived
+one after the other every afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>"Visanteta rebelled against this excessive kindness. She couldn't
+swallow another drop! She was full! But her mother stuck out her hairy
+nose with an imperious expression. 'I tell you to eat!' She must
+remember what she had inside of her.... And she began to feel a faint,
+indefinable affection for that mysterious creature, lodged in the
+entrails of her daughter. She pictured it to herself; she could see it;
+it was her pride. Thanks to it, the whole town had its eyes upon the
+cabin and the trail of visitors was unending, and <i>la Soberana</i> never
+passed a woman on her way without being stopped and asked for news.</p>
+
+<p>"Only once had they summoned the doctor, seeing him pass by the door;
+but not that they really wished him, or had any faith in him. What could
+that helpless man do against such a tenacious animal!... And upon
+hearing that, not content with the explanations of the mother and the
+daughter and his own audacious tapping around her clothes, he
+recommended an internal examination, the proud mother almost showed him
+the door. The impudent wretch! Not in a hurry was he going to have the
+pleasure of seeing her daughter so intimately! The poor thing, so good
+and so modest, who blushed merely at the thought of such proposals!...</p>
+
+<p>"On Sunday afternoons Visanteta went to church, figuring at the head of
+the daughters of Mary. Her voluminous abdomen was eyed with admiration
+by the girls. They all asked breathlessly after the toad, and Visanteta
+replied wearily. It didn't bother her so much now. It had grown very
+much because she ate so well; sometimes it moved about, but it didn't
+hurt as it used to. One after the other the maidens would place their
+hands upon the afflicted one and feel the movements of the invisible
+creature, admiring as they did so the superiority of their friend. The
+curate, a blessed chap of pious simplicity, pretended not to notice the
+feminine curiosity, and thought with awe of the things done by God to
+put His creatures to the test. Afterwards, when the afternoon drew to a
+close, and the choir sang in gentle voice the praises of Our Lady of the
+Sea, each of the virgins would fall to thinking of that mysterious
+beast, praying fervently that poor Visanteta be delivered of it as soon
+as possible.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Carafosca</i>, too, enjoyed a certain notoriety because of his
+sweetheart's affliction. The women accosted him, the old fishermen
+stopped him to inquire about the animal that was torturing his girl.
+'The poor thing! The poor thing!' he would groan, in accents of amorous
+commiseration. He said no more; but his eyes revealed a vehement desire
+to take over as soon as possible Visanteta and her toad, since the
+latter inspired a certain affection in him because of its connection
+with her.</p>
+
+<p>"One night, when the doctor was at my door, a woman came in search of
+him, panting with dramatic horror. <i>La Soberana's</i> daughter was very
+sick; he must run to her rescue. The doctor shrugged his shoulders 'Ah,
+yes! The toad!' And he didn't seem at all anxious to stir. Then came
+another woman, more agitated than the first. Poor Visanteta! She was
+dying! Her shrieks could be heard all over the street. The wicked beast
+was devouring her entrails....</p>
+
+<p>"I followed the doctor, attracted by the curiosity that had the whole
+town in a commotion. When we came to <i>la Soberana's</i> cabin we had to
+force our way through a compact group of women who obstructed the
+doorway, crowding into the house. A rending shriek, a rasping wail came
+from the innermost part of the dwelling, rising above the heads of the
+curious or terrified women. The hoarse voice of <i>la Soberana</i> answered
+with entreating accents. Her daughter! Ah, Lord, her poor daughter!...</p>
+
+<p>"The arrival of the physician was received by a chorus of demands on the
+part of the old women. Poor Visanteta was writhing furiously, unable to
+bear such pain; her eyes bulged from their sockets and her features were
+distorted. She must be operated upon; her entrails must be opened and
+the green, slippery demon that was eating her alive must be expelled.</p>
+
+<p>"The doctor proceeded upon his task, without paying any attention to the
+advice showered upon him, and before I could reach his side his voice
+resounded through the sudden silence, with ill-humored brusqueness:</p>
+
+<p>"'But good Lord, the only trouble with this girl is that she's going
+to...!'</p>
+
+<p>"Before he could finish, all could guess from the harshness of his voice
+what he was about to say. The group of women yielded before <i>la
+Soberana's</i> thrusts even as the waves of the sea under the belly of a
+whale. She stuck out her big hands and her threatening nails, mumbling
+insults and looking at the doctor with murder in her eyes. Bandit!
+Drunkard! Out of her house!...It was the people's fault, for supporting
+such an infidel. She'd eat him up! Let them make way for her!... And she
+struggled violently with her friends, fighting to free herself and
+scratch out the doctor's eyes. To her vindictive cries were joined the
+weak bleating of Visanteta, protesting with the breath that was left her
+between her groans of pain. It was a lie! Let that wicked man be gone!
+What a nasty mouth he had! It was all a lie!...</p>
+
+<p>"But the doctor went hither and thither, asking for water, for bandages,
+snappy and imperious in his commands, paying no attention whatsoever to
+the threats of the mother or the cries of the daughter, which were
+becoming louder and more heart-rending than ever. Suddenly she roared as
+if she were being slaughtered, and there was a bustle of curiosity
+around the physician, whom I couldn't see. 'It's a lie! A lie!
+Evil-tongued wretch! Slanderer!'... But the protestations of Visanteta
+were no longer unaccompanied. To her voice of an innocent victim begging
+justice from heaven was added the cry of a pair of lungs that were
+breathing the air for the first time.</p>
+
+<p>"And now the friends of <i>la Soberana</i> had to restrain her from falling
+upon her daughter. She would kill her! The bitch! Whose child was
+that?... And terrified by the threats of her mother, the sick woman, who
+was still sobbing 'It's a lie! A lie!' at last spoke. It was a young
+fellow of the <i>huerta</i> whom she had never seen again... an indiscretion
+committed one evening... she no longer remembered. No, she could not
+remember!... And she insisted upon this forgetfulness as if it were an
+incontrovertible excuse.</p>
+
+<p>"The people now saw through it all. The women were impatient to spread
+the news. As we left, <i>la Soberana</i>, humiliated and in tears, tried to
+kneel before the doctor and kiss his hand. 'Ay, Don Antoni!... Don
+Antoni!' She asked pardon for her insults; she despaired when she
+thought of the village comments. What they would have to suffer now!...
+On the following day the youths that sang as they arranged their nets
+would invent new verses. The song of the toad! Her life would become
+impossible!... But even more than this, the thought of <i>Carafosca</i>
+terrified her. She knew very well what sort of brute that was. He would
+kill poor Visanteta the first time she appeared on the street; and she
+herself would meet the same fate for being her mother and not having
+guarded her well. 'Ay, Don Antoni!' She begged him, upon her knees, to
+see <i>Carafosca</i>. He, who was so good and who knew so much, could
+convince the fellow with his reasoning, and make him swear that he would
+not do the women any harm,&mdash;that he would forget them.</p>
+
+<p>"The doctor received these entreaties with the same indifference as he
+had received the threats, and he answered sharply. He would see about
+it; it was a delicate affair. But once in the street, he shrugged his
+shoulders with resignation. 'Let's go and see that animal.'</p>
+
+<p>"We pulled him out of the tavern and the three of us began to walk along
+the beach through the darkness. The fisherman seemed to be awed at
+finding himself between two persons of such importance. Don Antonio
+spoke to him of the indisputable superiority of men ever since the
+earliest days of creation; of the scorn with which women should be
+regarded because of their lack of seriousness; of their immense number
+and the ease with which we could pick another if the one we had happened
+to displease us... and at last, with brutal directness, told what had
+happened.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Carafosca</i> hesitated, as if he had not understood the doctor's words
+very well. Little by little the certainty dawned upon his dense
+comprehension. 'By God! By God!' And he scratched himself fearfully
+under his cap, and brought his hands to his sash as if he were seeking
+his redoubtable knife.</p>
+
+<p>"The physician tried to console him. He must forget Visanteta; there
+would be no sense or advantage in killing her. It wasn't worth while for
+a splendid chap like him to go to prison for slaying a worthless
+creature like her. The real culprit was that unknown laborer; but... and
+she! And how easily she... committed the indiscretion, not being able to
+recall anything afterwards!...</p>
+
+<p>"For a long time we walked along in painful silence, with no other
+novelty than <i>Carafosca's</i> scratching of his head and his sash. Suddenly
+he surprised us with the roar of his voice, speaking to us in Castilian,
+thus adding solemnity to what he said:</p>
+
+<p>"'Do you want me to tell you something?... Do you want me to tell you
+something?'</p>
+
+<p>"He looked at us with hostile eyes, as if he saw before him the unknown
+culprit of the <i>huerta</i>, ready to pounce upon him. It could be seen that
+his sluggish brain had just adopted a very firm resolution.... What was
+it? Let him speak.</p>
+
+<p>"'Well, then,' he articulated slowly, as if we were enemies whom he
+desired to confound, 'I tell you... that now I love the girl more than
+ever.'</p>
+
+<p>"In our stupefaction, at a loss for reply, we shook hands with him."</p>
+
+<p class="c"><span class="smcap">END</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h2 class="f"><a name="COMPASSION" id="COMPASSION"></a><a href="#toc">COMPASSION</a></h2>
+
+<p class="n"><span class="dropcap2">A</span><span style="margin-left: -3%;">T</span> TEN o'clock in the evening Count de Sagreda walked into his club on
+the Boulevard des Capucins. There was a bustle among the servants to
+relieve him of his cane, his highly polished hat and his costly fur
+coat, which, as it left his shoulders revealed a shirt-bosom of
+immaculate neatness, a gardenia in his lapel, and all the attire of
+black and white, dignified yet brilliant, that belongs to a gentleman
+who has just dined.</p>
+
+<p>The story of his ruin was known by every member of the club. His
+fortune, which fifteen years before had caused a certain commotion in
+Paris, having been ostentatiously cast to the four winds, was exhausted.
+The count was now living on the remains of his opulence, like those
+shipwrecked seamen who live upon the d&eacute;bris of the vessel, postponing in
+anguish the arrival of the last hour. The very servants who danced
+attendance upon him like slaves in dress suits, knew of his misfortune
+and discussed his shameful plight; but not even the slightest suggestion
+of insolence disturbed the colorless glance of their eyes, petrified by
+servitude. He was such a nobleman! He had scattered his money with such
+majesty!... Besides, he was a genuine member of the nobility, a nobility
+that dated back for centuries and whose musty odor inspired a certain
+ceremonious gravity in many of the citizens whose fore-bears had helped
+bring about the Revolution. He was not one of those Polish counts who
+permit themselves to be entertained by women, nor an Italian marquis who
+winds up by cheating at cards, nor a Russian personage of consequence
+who often draws his pay from the police; he was genuine <i>hidalgo</i>, a
+grandee of Spain. Perhaps one of his ancestors figured in the <i>Cid</i>, in
+<i>Ruy Blas</i> or some other of the heroic pieces in the repertory of the
+Com&eacute;die Fran&ccedil;aise.</p>
+
+<p>The count entered the salons of the club with head erect and a proud
+gait, greeting his friends with a barely discernible smile, a mixture of
+hauteur and light-heartedness.</p>
+
+<p>He was approaching his fortieth year, but he was still the <i>beau</i>
+Sagreda, as he had long been nicknamed by the noctambulous women of
+Maxim's and the early-rising Amazons of the Bois. A few gray hairs at
+his temples and a triangle of faint wrinkles at the corner of his brows,
+betrayed the effects of an existence that had been lived at too rapid a
+pace, with the vital machinery running at full speed. But his eyes were
+still youthful, intense and melancholy; eyes that caused him to be
+called "the Moor" by his men and women friends. The Viscount de la
+Tresmini&egrave;re, crowned by the Academy as the author of a study on one of
+his ancestors who had been a companion of Cond&eacute;, and highly appreciated
+by the antique dealers on the left bank of the Seine, who sold him all
+the bad canvases they had in store, called him <i>Velazquez</i>, satisfied
+that the swarthy, somewhat olive complexion of the count, his black,
+heavy mustache and his grave eyes, gave him the right to display his
+thorough acquaintance with Spanish art.</p>
+
+<p>All the members of the club spoke of Sagreda's ruin with discreet
+compassion. The poor count! Not to fall heir to some new legacy. Not to
+meet some American millionairess who would be smitten with him and his
+titles!... They must do something to save him.</p>
+
+<p>And he walked amid this mute and smiling pity without being at all aware
+of it, encased in his pride, receiving as admiration that which was
+really compassionate sympathy, forced to have recourse to painful
+simulations in order to surround himself with as much luxury as before,
+thinking that he was deceiving others and deceiving only himself.</p>
+
+<p>Sagreda cherished no illusions as to the future. All the relatives that
+might come to his rescue with a timely legacy had done so many years
+before, upon making their exit from the world's stage. None that might
+recall his name was left beyond the mountains. In Spain he had only some
+distant relatives, personages of the nobility united to him more by
+historic bonds than by ties of blood. They addressed him familiarly, but
+he could expect from them no help other than good advice and admonitions
+against his wild extravagance.... It was all over. Fifteen years of
+dazzling display had consumed the supply of wealth with which Sagreda
+one day arrived in Paris. The granges of Andalusia, with their droves of
+cattle and horses, had changed hands without ever having made the
+acquaintance of this owner, devoted to luxury and always absent. After
+them, the vast wheat fields of Castilla and the ricefields of Valencia,
+and the villages of the northern provinces, had gone into strange
+hands,&mdash;all the princely possessions of the ancient counts of Sagreda,
+plus the inheritances from various pious spinster aunts, and the
+considerable legacies of other relatives who had died of old age in
+their ancient country houses.</p>
+
+<p>Paris and the elegant summer seasons had in a few years devoured this
+fortune of centuries. The recollection of a few noisy love affairs with
+two actresses in vogue; the nostalgic smile of a dozen costly women of
+the world; the forgotten fame of several duels; a certain prestige as a
+rash, calm gambler, and a reputation as a knightly swordsman,
+intransigent in matters of honor, were all that remained to the <i>beau</i>
+Sagreda after his downfall.</p>
+
+<p>He lived upon his past, contracting new debts with certain providers
+who, recalling other financial crises, trusted to a re-establishment of
+his fortune. "His fate was settled," according to the count's own words.
+When he could do no more, he would resort to a final course. Kill
+himself?... never. Men like him committed suicide only because of
+gambling debts or debts of honor. Ancestors of his, noble and glorious,
+had owed huge sums to persons who were not their equals, without for a
+moment considering suicide on this account. When the creditors should
+shut their doors to him, and the money-lenders should threaten him with
+a public court scandal, Count de Sagreda, making a heroic effort, would
+wrench himself away from the sweet Parisian life. His ancestors had been
+soldiers and colonizers. He would join the foreign legion of Algeria, or
+would take passage for that America which had been conquered by his
+forefathers, becoming a mounted shepherd in the solitudes of Southern
+Chile or upon the boundless plains of Patagonia.</p>
+
+<p>Until the dreaded moment should arrive, this hazardous, cruel existence
+that forced him to live a continuous lie, was the best period of his
+career. From his last trip to Spain, made for the purpose of liquidating
+certain remnants of his patrimony, he had returned with a woman, a
+maiden of the provinces who had been captivated by the prestige of the
+nobleman; in her affection, ardent and submissive at the same time,
+there was almost as much admiration as love. A woman!... Sagreda for the
+first time realized the full significance of this word, as if up to then
+he had not understood it. His present companion was a woman; the
+nervous, dissatisfied females who had filled his previous existence,
+with their painted smiles and voluptuous artifices, belonged to another
+species.</p>
+
+<p>And now that the real woman had arrived, his money was departing
+forever!... And when misfortune appeared, love came with it!... Sagreda,
+lamenting his lost fortune struggled hard to maintain his pompous
+outward show. He lived as before, in the same house, without retrenching
+his budget, making his companion presents of value equal to those that
+he had lavished upon his former women friends, enjoying an almost
+paternal satisfaction before the childish surprise and the ingenuous
+happiness of the poor girl, who was overwhelmed by the brilliant life of
+Paris.</p>
+
+<p>Sagreda was drowning,&mdash;drowning!&mdash;but with a smile on his lips, content
+with himself, with his present life, with this sweet dream, which was to
+be the final one and which was lasting miraculously long. Fate, which
+had maltreated him in the past few years, consuming the remainders of
+his wealth at Monte Carlo, at Ostend and in the notable clubs of the
+Boulevard, seemed now to stretch out a helping hand, touched by his new
+existence. Every night, after dining with his companion at a fashionable
+restaurant, he would leave her at the theatre and go to his club, the
+only place where luck awaited him. He did not plunge heavily. Simple
+games of &eacute;cart&eacute; with intimate friends, chums of his youth, who continued
+their happy career with the aid of great fortunes, or who had settled
+down after marrying wealth, retaining among their farmer habits the
+custom of visiting the honorable circle.</p>
+
+<p>Scarcely did the count take his seat, with his cards in his hand,
+opposite one of these friends, when Fortune seemed to hover over his
+head, and his friends did not tire of playing, inviting him to a game
+every night, as if they stood in line awaiting their turn. His winnings
+were hardly enough to grow wealthy upon; some nights ten <i>louis</i>; others
+twenty-five; on special occasions Sagreda would retire with as many as
+forty gold coins in his pocket. But thanks to this almost daily gain he
+was able to fill the gaps of his lordly existence, which threatened to
+topple down upon his head, and he maintained his lady companion in
+surroundings of loving comfort, at the same time recovering confidence
+in his immediate future. Who could tell what was in store for him?...</p>
+
+<p>Noticing Viscount de la Tresmini&egrave;re in one of the salons he smiled at
+him with an expression of friendly challenge.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you say to a game?"</p>
+
+<p>"As you wish, my dear <i>Velazquez</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"Seven francs per five points will be sufficient. I'm sure to win. Luck
+is with me."</p>
+
+<p>The game commenced under the soft light of the electric bulbs, amid the
+soothing silence of soft carpets and thick curtains.</p>
+
+<p>Sagreda kept winning, as if his kind fate was pleased to extricate him
+from the most difficult passes. He won without half trying. It made no
+difference that he lacked trumps and that he held bad cards; those of
+his rival were always worse, and the result would be miraculously in
+harmony with his previous games.</p>
+
+<p>Already, twenty-five golden <i>louis</i> lay before him. A club companion,
+who was wandering from one salon to the other with a bored expression,
+stopped near the players interested in the game. At first he remained
+standing near Sagreda; then he took up his position behind the viscount,
+who seemed to be rendered nervous and perturbed at the fellow's
+proximity.</p>
+
+<p>"But that's awful silly of you!" the inquisitive newcomer soon
+exclaimed. "You're not playing a good game, my dear viscount. You're
+laying aside your trumps and using only your bad cards. How stupid of
+you!"</p>
+
+<p>He could say no more. Sagreda threw his cards upon the table. He had
+grown terribly white, with a greenish pallor. His eyes, opened
+extraordinarily wide, stared at the viscount. Then he rose.</p>
+
+<p>"I understand," he said coldly. "Allow me to withdraw."</p>
+
+<p>Then, with a quivering hand, he thrust the heap of gold coins toward his
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>"This belongs to you."</p>
+
+<p>"But, my dear <i>Velazquez</i>.... Why, Sagreda!... Permit me to explain,
+dear count!..."</p>
+
+<p>"Enough, sir. I repeat that I understand."</p>
+
+<p>His eyes flashed with a strange gleam, the selfsame gleam that his
+friends had seen upon various occasions, when after a brief dispute or
+an insulting word, he raised his glove in a gesture of challenge.</p>
+
+<p>But this hostile glance lasted only a moment. Then he smiled with
+glacial affability.</p>
+
+<p>"Many thanks, Viscount. These are favors that are never forgotten.... I
+repeat my gratitude."</p>
+
+<p>And he saluted, like a true noble, walking off proudly erect, the same
+as in the most smiling days of his opulence.</p>
+
+<p class="c">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>With his fur coat open, displaying his immaculate shirt bosom, Count de
+Sagreda promenades along the boulevard. The crowds are issuing from the
+theatres; the women are crossing from one sidewalk to the other;
+automobiles with lighted interiors roll by, affording a momentary
+glimpse of plumes, jewels and white bosoms; the news-vendors shout their
+wares; at the top of the buildings huge electrical advertisements blaze
+forth and go out in rapid succession.</p>
+
+<p>The Spanish grandee, the <i>hidalgo</i>, the descendant of the noble knights
+of the <i>Cid</i> and <i>Ruy Blas</i>, walks against the current, elbowing his way
+through the crowd, desiring to hasten as fast as possible, without any
+particular objective in view.</p>
+
+<p>To contract debts!... Very well. Debts do not dishonor a nobleman. But
+to receive alms?... In his hours of blackest thoughts he had never
+trembled before the idea of incurring scorn through his ruin, of seeing
+his friends desert him, of descending to the lowest depths, being lost
+in the social substratum. But to arouse compassion....</p>
+
+<p>The comedy was useless. The intimate friends who smiled at him in former
+times had penetrated the secret of his poverty and had been moved by
+pity to get together and take turns at giving him alms under the pretext
+of gambling with him. And likewise his other friends, and even the
+servants who bowed to him with their accustomed respect as he passed by,
+were in the secret. And he, the poor dupe, was going about with his
+lordly airs, stiff and solemn in his extinct grandeur, like the corpse
+of the lengendary chieftain, which, after his death, was mounted on
+horseback and sallied forth to win battles.</p>
+
+<p>Farewell, Count de Sagreda! The heir of governors and viceroys can
+become a nameless soldier in a legion of desperadoes and bandits; he can
+begin life anew as an adventurer in virgin lands, killing that he may
+live; he can even watch with impassive countenance the wreck of his name
+and his family history, before the bench of a tribunal.... But to live
+upon the compassion of his friends!...</p>
+
+<p>Farewell forever, final illusions! The count has forgotten his
+companion, who is waiting for him at a night restaurant. He does not
+think of her; it is as if he never had seen her; as if she had never
+existed. He thinks not at all of that which but a few hours before had
+made life worth living. He walks along, alone with his disgrace, and
+each step of his seems to draw from the earth a dead thing; an ancestral
+influence, a racial prejudice, a family boast, dormant hauteur, honor
+and fierce pride, and as these awake, they oppress his breast and cloud
+his thoughts.</p>
+
+<p>How they must have laughed at him behind his back, with condescending
+pity!... Now he walks along more hurriedly than ever, as if he has at
+last made up his mind just where he is going, and his emotion leads him
+unconsciously to murmur with irony, as if he is speaking to somebody who
+is at his heels and whom he desires to flee.</p>
+
+<p>"Many thanks! Many thanks!"</p>
+
+<p>Just before dawn two revolver shots astound the guests of a hotel in the
+vicinity of the <i>Gare Saint-Lazare</i>,&mdash;one of those ambiguous
+establishments that offers a safe shelter for amorous acquaintances
+begun on the thoroughfare.</p>
+
+<p>The attendants find in one of the rooms a gentleman dressed in evening
+clothes, with a hole in his head, through which escape bloody strips of
+flesh. The man writhes like a worm upon the threadbare carpet.</p>
+
+<p>His eyes, of a dull black, still glitter with life. There is nothing
+left in them of the image of his sweet companion. His last thought,
+interrupted by death, is of friendship, terrible in its pity; of the
+fraternal insult of a generous, light-hearted compassion.</p>
+
+<p class="c"><span class="smcap">END</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h2 class="f"><a name="LUXURY" id="LUXURY"></a><a href="#toc">LUXURY</a></h2>
+
+<p class="n"><span class="dropcap1">"</span><span class="dropcap">I</span><span style="margin-left: -2.5%;">H</span>AD her on my lap," said my friend Martinez, "and the warm weight of
+her healthy body was beginning to tire me.</p>
+
+<p>"The scene... same as usual in such places. Mirrors with blemished
+surfaces, and names scratched across them, like spiders' webs; sofas of
+discolored velvet, with springs that creaked atrociously; the bed
+decorated with theatrical hangings, as clean and common as a sidewalk,
+and on the walls, pictures of bull-fighters and cheap chromos of angelic
+virgins smelling a rose or languorously contemplating a bold hunter.</p>
+
+<p>"The scenery was that of the favorite cell in the convent of vice; an
+elegant room reserved for distinguished patrons; and she was a healthy,
+robust creature, who seemed to bring a whiff of the pure mountain air
+into the heavy atmosphere of this closed house, saturated with cheap
+cologne, rice powder and the vapor from dirty washbasins.</p>
+
+<p>"As she spoke to me she stroked the ribbons of her gown with childish
+complacency; it was a fine piece of satin, of screaming yellow, somewhat
+too tight for her body, a dress which I recalled having seen months
+before on the delicate charms of another girl, who had since died,
+according to reports, in the hospital.</p>
+
+<p>"Poor girl! She had become a sight! Her coarse, abundant hair, combed in
+Greek fashion, was adorned with glass beads; her cheeks, shiny from the
+dew of perspiration, were covered with a thick layer of cosmetic; and as
+if to reveal her origin, her arms, which were firm, swarthy and of
+masculine proportions, escaped from the ample sleeves of her chorus-girl
+costume.</p>
+
+<p>"As she saw me follow with attentive glance all the details of her
+extravagant array, she thought that I was admiring her, and threw her
+head back with a petulant expression.</p>
+
+<p>"And such a simple creature!... She hadn't yet become acquainted with
+the customs of the house, and told the truth,&mdash;all the truth&mdash;to the men
+who wished to know her history. They called her Flora; but her real name
+was Mari-Pepa. She wasn't the orphan of a colonel or a magistrate, nor
+did she concoct the complicated tales of love and adventure that her
+companions did, in order to justify their presence in such a place. The
+truth; always the truth; she would yet be hanged for her frankness. Her
+parents were comfortably situated farmers in a little town of Arag&oacute;n;
+owned their fields, had two mules in the barn, bread, wine, and enough
+potatoes for the year round; and at night the best fellows in the place
+came one after the other to soften her heart with serenade upon
+serenade, trying to carry off her dark, healthy person together with the
+four orchards she had inherited from her grandfather.</p>
+
+<p>"'But what could you expect, my dear fellow?... I couldn't bear those
+people. They were too coarse for me. I was born to be a lady. And tell
+me, why can't I be? Don't I look as good as any of them?...'</p>
+
+<p>"And she snuggled her head against my shoulder, like the docile
+sweetheart she was,&mdash;a slave subjected to all sorts of caprices in
+exchange for being clothed handsomely.</p>
+
+<p>"' Those fellows,' she continued, 'made me sick. I ran off with the
+student,&mdash;understand?&mdash;the son of the town magistrate, and we wandered
+about until he deserted me, and I landed here, waiting for something
+better to turn up. You see, it's a short tale.... I don't complain of
+anything. I'm satisfied.'</p>
+
+<p>"And to show how happy she was, the unhappy girl rode astride my legs,
+thrust her hard fingers through my hair, rumpling it, and sang a tango
+in horrible fashion, in her strong, peasant voice.</p>
+
+<p>"I confess that I was seized with an impulse to speak to her 'in the
+name of morality,'&mdash;that hypocritical desire we all possess to propagate
+virtue when we are sated and desire is dead.</p>
+
+<p>"She raised her eyes, astonished to see me look so solemn, preaching to
+her, like a missionary glorifying chastity with a prostitute on his
+knees; her gaze wandered continually from my austere countenance to the
+bed close by. Her common sense was baffled before the incongruity
+between such virtue and the excesses of a moment before.</p>
+
+<p>"Suddenly she seemed to understand, and an outburst of laughter swelled
+her fleshy neck.</p>
+
+<p>"'The deuce!... How amusing you are! And with what a face you say all
+these things! Just like the priest of my home town....'</p>
+
+<p>"No, Pepa, I'm serious. I believe you're a good girl; you don't realize
+what you've gone into, and I'm warning you. You've fallen very low, very
+low. You're at the bottom. Even within the career of vice, the majority
+of women resist and deny the caresses that are required of you in this
+house. There is yet time for you to save yourself. Your parents have
+enough for you to live on; you didn't come here under the necessity of
+poverty. Return to your home, and the past will be forgotten; you can
+tell them a lie, invent some sort of tale to justify your flight, and
+who knows?... One of the fellows that used to serenade you will marry
+you, you'll have children and you'll be a respectable woman.</p>
+
+<p>"The girl became serious when she saw that I was speaking in earnest.
+Little by little she began to slip from my knees until she was on her
+feet, eyeing me fixedly, as if she saw before her some strange person
+and an invisible wall had arisen between the two.</p>
+
+<p>"'Go back to my home!' she exclaimed in harsh accents. 'Many thanks. I
+know very well what that means. Get up before dawn, work like a slave,
+go out in the fields, ruin your hands with callouses. Look, see how my
+hands still show them.'</p>
+
+<p>"And she made me feel the rough lumps that rose on the palms of her
+strong hands.</p>
+
+<p>"'And all this, in exchange for what? For being respectable?... Not a
+bit of it! I'm not that crazy. So much for respectability!'</p>
+
+<p>"And she accompanied these words with some indecent motions that she had
+picked up from her companions.</p>
+
+<p>"Afterwards, humming a tune, she went over to the mirror to survey
+herself, and smilingly greeted the reflection of her powdered hair,
+covered with false pearls, which shone out of the cracked mirror. She
+contracted her lips, which were rouged like those of a clown.</p>
+
+<p>"Growing more and more firm in my virtuous r&ocirc;le, I continued to
+sermonize her from my chair, enveloping this hypocritical propaganda in
+sonorous words. She was making a bad choice; she must think of the
+future. The present could not be worse. What was she? Less than a slave;
+a piece of furniture; they exploited her, they robbed her, and
+afterwards... afterwards it would be still worse; the hospital,
+repulsive diseases....</p>
+
+<p>"But again her harsh laughter interrupted me.</p>
+
+<p>"'Quit it, boy. Don't bother me.'</p>
+
+<p>"And planting herself before me she wrapped me in a gaze of infinite
+compassion.</p>
+
+<p>"'Why my dear fellow, how silly you are! Do you imagine that I can go
+back to that dog's life, after having tasted this one?... No, sir! I was
+born for luxury.'</p>
+
+<p>"And, with devoted admiration sweeping her glance across the broken
+chairs, the faded sofa, and that bed which was a public thoroughfare,
+she began to walk up and down, revelling in the rustle of her train as
+it dragged across the room, and caressing the folds of that gown which
+seemed still to preserve the warmth of the other girl's body."</p>
+
+<p class="c"><span class="smcap">END</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h2 class="f"><a name="RABIES" id="RABIES"></a><a href="#toc">RABIES</a></h2>
+
+<p class="n"><span class="dropcap">F</span><span style="margin-left: -.5%;">R</span>OM all the countryside the neighbors of the <i>huerta</i> flocked to
+<i>Caldera's</i> cabin, entering it with a certain meekness, a mingling of
+emotion and fear.</p>
+
+<p>How was the boy? Was he improving?... Uncle Pascal, surrounded by his
+wife, his daughters-in-law and even the most distant relatives, who had
+been gathered together by misfortune, received with melancholy
+satisfaction this interest of the entire vicinity in the health of his
+son. Yes, he was getting better. For two days he had not been attacked
+by that horrible <i>thing</i> which set the cabin in commotion. And
+<i>Caldera's</i> laconic farmer friends, as well as the women, who were
+vociferous in the expression of their emotions, appeared at the
+threshold of the room, asking timidly, "How do you feel?"</p>
+
+<p>The only son of <i>Caldera</i> was in there, sometimes in bed, in obedience
+to his mother, who could conceive of no illness without the cup of hot
+water and seclusion between the bed-sheets; at other times he sat up,
+his jaws supported by his hands, gazing obstinately into the furthermost
+corner of the room. His father, wrinkling his shaggy white brows, would
+walk about when left alone, or, through force of habit, take a look at
+the neighboring fields, but without any desire to bend over and pluck
+out any of the weeds that were beginning to sprout in the furrows. Much
+this land mattered to him now,&mdash;the earth in whose bowels he had left
+the sweat of his body and the strength of his limbs!... His son was all
+he had,&mdash;the fruit of a late marriage,&mdash;and he was a sturdy youth, as
+industrious and taciturn as his father; a soldier of the soil, who
+required neither orders nor threat to fulfil his duties; ready to awake
+at midnight when it was his turn to irrigate his land and give the
+fields drink under the light of the stars; quick to spring from his bed
+on the hard kitchen bench, throwing off the covers and putting on his
+hemp sandals at the sound of the early rooster's reveille.</p>
+
+<p>Uncle Pascal had never smiled. He was the Latin type of father; the
+fearful master of the house, who, on returning from his labors, ate
+alone, served by his wife, who stood by with an expression of
+submission. But this grave, harsh mask of an omnipotent master concealed
+a boundless admiration for his son, who was his best work. How quickly
+he loaded a cart! How he perspired as he managed the hoe with a vigorous
+forward and backward motion that seemed to cleave him at the waist! Who
+could ride a pony like him, gracefully jumping on to his back by simply
+resting the toe of a sandal upon the hind legs of the animal?... He
+didn't touch wine, never got mixed up in a brawl, nor was he afraid of
+work. Through good luck he had pulled a high number in the military
+draft, and when the feast of San Juan came around he intended to marry a
+girl from a near-by farm,&mdash;a maiden that would bring with her a few
+pieces of earth when she came to the cabin of her new parents.
+Happiness; an honorable and peaceful continuation of the family
+traditions; another <i>Caldera</i>, who, when Uncle Pascal grew old, would
+continue to work the lands that had been fructified by his ancestors,
+while a troop of little <i>Calderitas</i>, increasing in number each year,
+would play around the nag harnessed to the plow, eyeing with a certain
+awe their grandpa, his eyes watery from age and his words very concise,
+as he sat in the sun at the cabin door.</p>
+
+<p>Christ! And how man's illusions vanish!... One Saturday, as Pascualet
+was coming home from his sweetheart's house, along one of the paths of
+the <i>huerta</i>, about midnight, a dog had bitten him; a wretched, silent
+animal that jumped out from behind a sluice; as the young man crouched
+to throw a stone at it, the dog bit into his shoulder. His mother, who
+used to wait for him on the nights when he went courting, burst into
+wailing when she saw the livid semicircle, with its red stain left by
+the dog's teeth, and she bustled about the hut preparing poultices and
+drinks.</p>
+
+<p>The youth laughed at his mother's fears.</p>
+
+<p>"Quiet, mother, quiet!" It wasn't the first time that a dog had bitten
+him. His body still showed faint signs of bites that he had received in
+childhood, when he used to go through the <i>huerta</i> throwing stones at
+the dogs. Old <i>Caldera</i> spoke to him from bed, without displaying any
+emotion. On the following day he was to go to the veterinary and have
+his flesh cauterized by a burning iron. So he ordered, and there was
+nothing further to be said about the matter. The young man submitted
+without flinching to the operation, like a good, brave chap of the
+Valencian <i>huerta</i>. He had four days' rest in all, and even at that, his
+fondness for work caused him new sufferings and he aided his father with
+pain-tortured arm. Saturdays, when he came to his sweetheart's
+farmhouse, she always asked after his health. "How's the bite getting
+along?" He would shrug his shoulders gleefully before the eyes of the
+maiden and the two would finally sit down in a corner of the kitchen,
+remaining in mute contemplation of each other, or speaking of the
+clothes and the bed for their future home, without daring to come close
+to each other; there they sat erect and solemn, leaving between their
+bodies a space "wide enough for a sickle to pass through," as the girl's
+father smilingly put it.</p>
+
+<p>More than a month passed by. <i>Caldera's</i> wife was the only one that did
+not forget the accident. She followed her son about with anxious
+glances. Ah, sovereign queen! The <i>huerta</i> seemed to have been abandoned
+by God and His holy mother. Over at Templat's cabin a child was
+suffering the agonies of hell through having been bitten by a mad dog.
+All the <i>huerta</i> folk were running in terror to have a look at the poor
+creature; a spectacle that she herself did not dare to gaze upon because
+she was thinking of her own son. If her Pascualet, as tall and sturdy as
+a tower, were to meet with the same fate as that unfortunate child!...</p>
+
+<p>One day, at dawn, <i>Caldera's</i> son was unable to arise from his kitchen
+bench, and his mother helped him walk to the large nuptial bed, which
+occupied a part of the <i>estudi</i>, the best room in the cabin. He was
+feverish, and complained of acute pain in the spot where he had been
+bitten; an awful chill ran through his whole body, making his teeth
+chatter and veiling his eyes with a yellowish opacity. Don Jose, the
+oldest doctor in the <i>huerta</i>, came on his ancient mare, with his
+eternal recipe of purgatives for every class of illness, and bandages
+soaked in salt water for wounds. Upon examining the sick man he made a
+wry face. Bad! Bad! This was a more serious matter; they would have to
+go to the solemn doctors in Valencia, who knew more than he. <i>Caldera's</i>
+wife saw her husband harness the cart and compel Pascualet to get into
+it. The boy, relieved of his pain, smiled assent, saying that now he
+felt nothing more than a slight twinge. When they returned to the cabin
+the father seemed to be more at ease. A doctor from the city had pricked
+Pascualet's sore. He was a very serious gentleman, who gave Pascualet
+courage with his kind words, looking intently at him all the while, and
+expressing regret that he had waited so long before coming to him. For a
+week the two men made a daily trip to Valencia, but one morning the boy
+was unable to move. That crisis which made the poor mother groan with
+fear had returned with greater intensity than before. The boy's teeth
+knocked together, and he uttered a wail that stained the corners of his
+mouth with froth; his eyes seemed to swell, becoming yellow and
+protruding like huge grape seeds; he tried to pull himself together,
+writhing from the internal torture, and his mother hung upon his neck,
+shrieking with terror; meanwhile <i>Caldera</i>, grimly silent, seized his
+son's arms with tranquil strength, struggling to prevent his violent
+convulsions.</p>
+
+<p>"My son! My son!" cried the mother. Ah, her son! Scarcely could she
+recognize him as she saw him in this condition. He seemed like another,
+as if only his former exterior had remained,&mdash;as if an infernal monster
+had lodged within and was martyrizing this flesh that had come out of
+her own womb, appearing at his eyes with livid flashes.</p>
+
+<p>Afterwards came calm stupor, and all the women of the district gathered
+in the kitchen and deliberated upon the lot of the sick youth, cursing
+the city doctor and his diabolical incisions. It was his fault that the
+boy now lay thus; before the boy had submitted to the cure he had felt
+much better. The bandit! And the government never punished these wicked
+souls!... There were no other remedies than the old, true and tried
+ones,&mdash;the product of the experience of people who had lived years ago
+and thus knew much more. One of the neighbors went off to hunt up a
+certain witch, a miraculous doctor for dog-bites, serpent bites and
+scorpion-stings. Another brought a blind old goatherd, who could cure by
+the virtue of his mouth, simply by making some crosses of saliva over
+the ailing flesh. The drinks made of mountain herbs and the moist signs
+of the goatherd were looked upon as tokens of immediate cure, especially
+when they beheld the sick youth lie silent and motionless for several
+hours, looking at the ground with a certain amazement, as if he could
+feel within him the progress of something strange that grew and grew,
+gradually overpowering him. Then, when the crisis reoccurred, the doubt
+of the women began to rise, and new remedies were discussed. The youth's
+sweetheart came, with her large black eyes moistened by tears, and she
+advanced timidly until she came near to the sick boy. For the first time
+she dared to take his hand, blushing beneath her cinammon-colored
+complexion at this audacious act. "How do you feel?"... And he, so
+loving in other days, recoiled from her tender touch, turning his eyes
+away so that he should not see her, as if ashamed of his plight. His
+mother wept. Queen of heaven! He was very low; he was going to die. If
+only they could find out what dog it was that had bitten him, and cut
+out its tongue, using it for a miraculous plaster, as experienced
+persons advised!...</p>
+
+<p>Throughout the <i>huerta</i> it seemed that God's own wrath had burst forth.
+Some dogs had bitten others; now nobody knew which were the dangerous
+ones and which the safe. All mad! The children were secluded in the
+cabins, spying with terrified glances upon the vast fields, through the
+half-open doors; mothers journeyed over the winding paths in close
+groups, uneasy, trembling, hastening their step whenever a bark sounded
+from behind the sluices of the canals; men eyed the domestic dogs with
+fear, intently watching their slavering mouths as they gasped or their
+sad eyes; the agile greyhound, their hunting companion,&mdash;the barking
+cur, guardian of the home,&mdash;the ugly mastiff who walked along tied to
+the cart, which he watched over during the master's, absence,&mdash;all were
+placed under their owners' observation or coldly sacrificed behind the
+walls of the corral, without any display of emotion whatever.</p>
+
+<p>"Here they come! Here they come!" was the shout passed along from cabin
+to cabin, announcing the patter of a pack of dogs, howling, ravenous,
+their bodies covered with mud, running about without finding rest,
+driven on day and night, with the madness of persecution in their eyes.
+The <i>huerta</i> seemed to shudder, closing the doors of all the houses and
+suddenly bristling with guns. Shots rang out from the sluices, from the
+high corn-fields, from cabin windows, and when the wanderers, repelled
+and persecuted on every side, in their mad gallop dashed toward the sea,
+as if they were attracted by the moist, invigorating air that was washed
+by the waves, the revenue-guards camped on the wide strip of beach
+brought their mausers to their cheek and received them with a volley.
+The dogs retreated, escaping among the men who were approaching them
+musket in hand, and one or another of them would be stretched out at the
+edge of a canal. At night, the noisy gloom of the plain was broken by
+the sight of distant flashes and the sound of discharges. Every shape
+that moved in the darkness was the target for a bullet; the muffled
+howls that sounded in the vicinity of the cabins were answered by shots.
+The men were afraid of this common terror, and avoided meeting.</p>
+
+<p>No sooner did night fall than the <i>huerta</i> was left without a light,
+without a person upon the roads, as if death had taken possession of the
+dismal plain, so green and smiling under the sun. A single red spot, a
+tear of light, trembled in this obscurity. It was <i>Caldera's</i> cabin,
+where the women, squatting upon the floor, around the kitchen lamp,
+sighed with fright, anticipating the strident shriek of the sick
+youth,&mdash;the chattering of his teeth, the violent contortions of his body
+whenever he was seized with convulsions, struggling to repel the arms
+that tried to quiet him.</p>
+
+<p>The mother hung upon the neck of that raving patient who struck terror
+to men. She scarcely knew him; he was somebody else, with those eyes
+that popped out of their sockets, his livid or blackish countenance, his
+writhings, like that of a tortured animal, showing his tongue as he
+gasped through bubbles of froth in the agonies of an insatiable thirst.
+He begged for death in heart-rending shrieks; he struck his head against
+the wall; he tried to bite; but even so, he was her child and she did
+not feel the fear experienced by the others. His menacing mouth withdrew
+before the wan face that was moistened with tears. "Mother! Mother!" He
+recognized her in his lucid moments. She need not fear him; he would
+never bite her. And as if he must sink his teeth into something or other
+to glut his rage, he bit into his arms until the blood came.</p>
+
+<p>"My son! My son!" moaned the mother and she wiped the deadly froth from
+his lips, afterwards carrying the handkerchief to her eyes, without fear
+of contagion. <i>Caldera</i>, in his solemn gravity, paid no heed to the
+sufferer's threatening eyes, which were fixed upon him with an impulse
+of attack. The boy had lost his awe of his father.</p>
+
+<p>That powerful man, however, facing the peril of his son's mouth, thrust
+him back into bed whenever the madman tried to flee, as if he must
+spread everywhere the horrible affliction that was devouring his
+entrails.</p>
+
+<p>No longer were the crises followed by extended intervals of calm. They
+became almost continuous, and the victim writhed about, clawed and
+bleeding from his own bites, his face almost black, his eyes tremulous
+and yellow, looking like some monstrous beast set apart from all the
+human species. The old doctor had stopped asking about the youth. What
+was the use? It was all over. The women wept hopelessly. Death was
+certain. They only bewailed the long hours, perhaps days, of horrible
+torture that poor Pascualet would have to undergo.</p>
+
+<p><i>Caldera</i> was unable to find among his relatives or friends any men
+brave enough to help him restrain the sufferer in his violent moments.
+They all looked with terror at the door to the <i>estudi</i>, as if behind it
+were concealed the greatest of dangers. To go shooting through roads and
+canals was man's work. A stab could be returned; one bullet could answer
+another; but ah! that frothing mouth which killed with a bite!... that
+incurable disease which made men writhe in endless agony, like a lizard
+sliced by a hoe!</p>
+
+<p>He no longer knew his mother. In his final moments of lucidity he had
+thrust her away with loving brusqueness. She must go!... Let him not see
+her again!... He feared to do her harm! The poor woman's friends dragged
+her out of the room, forcing her to remain motionless, like her son, in
+a corner of the kitchen. <i>Caldera</i>, with a supreme effort of his dying
+will, tied the agonizing youth to the bed. His beetling brows trembled
+and the tears made him blink as he tied the coarse knots of the rope,
+fastening the youth to the bed upon which he had been born. He felt as
+if he were preparing his son for burial and had begun to dig his grave.
+The victim twisted in wild contortions under the father's strong arms;
+the parent had to make a powerful effort to subdue him under the rope
+that sank into his flesh.... To have lived so many years only to behold
+himself at last obliged to perform such a task! To give life to a
+creature, only to pray that it might be extinguished as soon as
+possible, horrified by so much useless pain!... Good God in heaven! Why
+not put an end to the poor boy at once, since his death was now
+inevitable?...</p>
+
+<p>He closed the door of the sick room, fleeing from the rasping shriek
+that set everybody's hair on end; but the madman's panting continued to
+sound in the silence of the cabin, accompanied by the lamentations of
+the mother and the weeping of the other women grouped around the lamp,
+that had just been lighted.</p>
+
+<p><i>Caldera</i> stamped upon the floor. Let the women be silent! But for the
+first time he beheld himself disobeyed, and he left the cabin, fleeing
+from this chorus of grief.</p>
+
+<p>Night descended. His gaze wandered toward the thin yellow band that was
+visible on the horizon, marking the flight of day. Above his head shone
+the stars. From the other homes, which were scarcely visible, resounded
+the neighing of horses, barking and the clucking of fowl,&mdash;the last
+signs of animal life before it sank to rest. That primitive man felt an
+impression of emptiness amid the Nature which was insensible and blind
+to the sufferings of its creatures. Of what concern to the points of
+light that looked down upon him from above could be that which he was
+now going through?... All creatures were equal; the beasts that
+disturbed the silence of dusk before falling asleep, and that poor youth
+similar to him, who now lay fettered, writhing in the worst of agony.
+How many illusions his life had contained!... And with a mere bite, a
+wretched animal kicked about by all men could finish them all. And no
+remedy existed in heaven or upon earth!...</p>
+
+<p>Once again the distant shriek of the sufferer came to his ears from the
+open window of the <i>estudi</i>. The tenderness of his early days of
+paternity emerged from the depths of his soul. He recalled the nights he
+had spent awake in that room, walking up and down, holding in his arms
+the little child that was crying from the pains of infancy's illness.
+Now he lay crying, too, but without hope, in the agonies of a hell that
+had come before its time, and at last... death. His countenance grew
+frightened, and he raised his hands to his forehead as if trying to
+drive away a troublesome thought. Then he appeared to deliberate.... Why
+not?...</p>
+
+<p>"To end his suffering... to end his suffering!"</p>
+
+<p>He went back to the cabin, only to come out at once with his old
+double-barrelled musket, and he hastened to the little window of the
+sick room as if he feared to lose his determination; he thrust the gun
+through the opening.</p>
+
+<p>Again he heard the agonizing panting, the chattering of teeth, the
+horrible shriek, now very near, as if he were at the victim's bedside.
+His eyes, accustomed to the darkness saw the bed at the back of the
+gloomy room, and the form that lay writhing in it,&mdash;the pale spot of the
+face, appearing and disappearing as the sick man twisted about
+desperately.</p>
+
+<p>The father was frightened at the trembling of his hands and the
+agitation of his pulse; he, the son of the <i>huerta</i>, without any other
+diversion than the hunt, accustomed to shoot down birds almost without
+aiming at them.</p>
+
+<p>The wailing of the poor mother brought back to his memory other groans
+of long long ago,&mdash;twenty-two years before&mdash;when she was giving birth to
+her only son upon that same bed.</p>
+
+<p>To come to such an end!... His eyes, gazing heavenward, saw a black sky,
+intensely black, with not a star in sight, and obscured by his tears....</p>
+
+<p>"Lord! To end his sufferings! To end his sufferings!"</p>
+
+<p>And repeating these words he pressed the musket against his shoulder,
+seeking the lock with a tremulous finger.... Bang! Bang!</p>
+
+<p class="c"><span class="smcap">END</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h2 class="f"><a name="THE_WINDFALL" id="THE_WINDFALL"></a><a href="#toc">THE WINDFALL</a></h2>
+
+<p class="n"><span class="dropcap1">"</span><span class="dropcap">I</span><span style="margin-left: -2.5%;">S</span>IR," said <i>Magdalena</i>, the bugler of the prison, "am no saint; I've
+been jailed many times for robberies; some of them that really took
+place and others that I was simply suspected of. Compared to you, who
+are a gentleman, and are in prison for having written things in the
+papers, I'm a mere wretch.... But take my word for it, this time I'm
+here for good."</p>
+
+<p>And raising one hand to his breast as he straightened his head with a
+certain pride, he added, "Petty thefts, that's all I'm not brave; I
+haven't shed a drop of blood."</p>
+
+<p>At break of day, <i>Magdalena's</i> bugle resounded through the spacious
+yard, embroidering its reveille with scales and trills. During the day,
+with the martial instrument hanging from his neck, or caressing it with
+a corner of his smock so as to wipe off the vapor with which the
+dampness of the prison covered it, he would go through the entire
+edifice,&mdash;an ancient convent in whose refectories, granaries and garrets
+there were crowded, in perspiring confusion, almost a thousand men.</p>
+
+<p>He was the clock that governed the life and the activities of this mass
+of male flesh perpetually seething with hatred. He made the round of the
+cells to announce, with sonorous blasts, the arrival of the worthy
+director, or a visit from the authorities; from the progress of the sun
+along the white walls of the prison-yard he could tell the approach of
+the visiting hours,&mdash;the best part of the day,&mdash;and with his tongue
+stuck between his lips he would await orders impatiently, ready to burst
+into the joyous signal that sent the flock of prisoners scampering over
+the stairways in an anxious run toward the locutories, where a wretched
+crowd of women and children buzzed in conversation; his insatiable
+hunger kept him pacing back and forth in the vicinity of the old
+kitchen, in which the enormous stews filled the atmosphere with a
+nauseating odor, and he bemoaned the indifference of the chef, who was
+always late in giving the order for the mess-call.</p>
+
+<p>Those imprisoned for crimes of blood, heroes of the dagger who had
+killed their man in a fierce brawl or in a dispute over a woman and who
+formed an aristocracy that disdained the petty thieves, looked upon the
+bugler as the butt for pranks with which to while away their boredom.</p>
+
+<p>"Blow!" would come the command from some formidable fellow, proud of his
+crimes and his courage.</p>
+
+<p>And <i>Magdalena</i> would draw himself up with military rigidity, close his
+mouth and inflate his cheeks, momentarily expecting two blows, delivered
+simultaneously by both hands, to expel the air from the ruddy globe of
+his face. At other times these redoubtable personages tested the
+strength of their arms upon <i>Magdalena's</i> pate, which was bare with the
+baldness of repugnant diseases, and they would howl with laughter at the
+damage done to their fists by the protuberances of the hard skull. The
+bugler lent himself to these tortures with the humility of a whipped
+dog, and found a certain revenge in repeating, afterwards, those words
+that were a solace to him:</p>
+
+<p>"I'm good; I'm not a brave fellow. Petty thefts, that's all.... But as
+to blood, not a single drop."</p>
+
+<p>Visiting time brought his wife, the notorious <i>Peluchona</i>, a valiant
+creature who inspired him with great fear. She was the mistress of one
+of the most dangerous bandits in the jail. Daily she brought that fellow
+food, procuring these dainties at the cost of all manner of vile labors.
+The bugler, upon beholding her, would leave the lucutory, fearing the
+arrogance of her bandit mate, who would take advantage of the occasion
+to humiliate him before his former companion. Many times a certain
+feeling of curiosity and tenderness got the better of his fear, and he
+would advance timidly, looking beyond the thick bars for the head of a
+child that came with <i>la Peluchona</i>.</p>
+
+<p>"That's my son, sir," he said, humbly. "My Tonico, who no longer knows
+me or remembers me. They say that he doesn't resemble me at all. Perhaps
+he's not mine.... You can imagine, with the life his mother has always
+led, living near the garrisons, washing the soldiers' clothes!... But he
+was born in my home; I held him in my arms when he was ill, and that's a
+bond as close as ties of blood."</p>
+
+<p>Then he would resume his timid lurking about the locutory, as if
+preparing one of his robberies, to see his Tonico; and when he could see
+him for a moment, the sight was enough to extinguish his helpless rage
+before the full basket of lunch that the evil woman brought to her
+lover.</p>
+
+<p><i>Magdalena's</i> whole existence was summed up in two facts; he had robbed
+and he had travelled much. The robberies were insignificant; clothes or
+money snatched in the street, because he lacked courage for greater
+deeds. His travels had been compulsory,&mdash;always on foot, over the roads
+of Spain, marching in a chain gang of convicts, between the polished or
+white three-cornered hats that guarded the prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>After having been a "pupil" among the buglers of a regiment, he had
+launched upon this life of continuous imprisonment, punctuated by brief
+periods of freedom, in which he lost his bearings, not knowing what to
+do with himself and wishing to return as soon as possible to jail. It
+was the perpetual chain, but finished link by link, as he used to say.</p>
+
+<p>The police never organized a round-up of dangerous persons but what
+<i>Magdalena</i> was found among them,&mdash;a timorous rat whose name the papers
+mentioned like that of a terrible criminal. He was always included in
+the trail of vagrant suspects who, without being charged with any
+specific crime, were sent from province to province by the authorities,
+in the hope that they would die of hunger along the roads, and thus he
+had covered the whole peninsula on foot, from Cadiz to Santander, from
+Valencia to La Coru&ntilde;a. With what enthusiasm he recalled his travels! He
+spoke of them as if they were joyous excursions, just like a wandering
+charity-student of the old <i>Tuna</i> converting his tales into courses in
+picturesque geography. With hungry delight he recollected the abundant
+milk of Galicia, the red sausages of Extramadura, the Castilian bread,
+the Basque apples, the wines and ciders of all the districts he had
+traversed, with his luggage on his shoulder. Guards were changed every
+day,&mdash;some of them kind or indifferent, others ill-humored and cruel,
+who made all the prisoners fear a couple of shots fired beyond the ruts
+of the road, followed by the papers justifying the killing as having
+been caused by an attempt at flight. With a certain nostalgia he evoked
+the memory of mountains covered with snow or reddened and striped by the
+sun; the slow procession along the white road that was lost in the
+horizon, like an endless ribbon; the highlands, under the trees, in the
+hot noon hours; the storms that assailed them upon the highways;
+inundated ravines that forced them to camp out in the open; the arrival,
+late at night, at certain town prisons, old convenes or abandoned
+churches, in which every man hunted up a dry corner, protected from
+draughts, where he could stretch his mat; the endless journey with all
+the calm of a purposeless procession; the long halts in spots where life
+was so monotonous that the presence of a group of prisoners was an
+event; the urchins would come running up to the bars to speak with them,
+while the girls, impelled by morbid curiosity, would approach within a
+short distance, to hear their songs and their obscene language.</p>
+
+<p>"Some mighty interesting travels, sir," continued the robber. "For those
+of us who had good health and didn't drop by the roadside it was the
+same as a strolling band of students. Now and then a drubbing, but who
+pays any attention to such things!... They don't have these
+<i>conductions</i> now; prisoners are transported by railroad, caged up in
+the cars. Besides, I am held for a criminal offense, and I must live
+inside the walls... jailed for good."</p>
+
+<p>And again he began to lament his bad luck, relating the final deed that
+had landed him in jail.</p>
+
+<p>It was a suffocating Sunday in July; an afternoon in which the streets
+of Valencia seemed to be deserted, under the burning sun and a wind like
+a furnace blast that came from the baked plains of the interior.
+Everybody was at the bull-fight or at the seashore. <i>Magdalena</i> was
+approached by his friend <i>Chamorra</i>, an old prison and traveling
+companion, who exercised a certain influence over him. That <i>Chamorra</i>
+was a bad soul! A thief, but of the sort that go the limit, not
+recoiling before the necessity of shedding blood and with his knife
+always handy beside his skeleton-keys. It was a matter of cleaning out a
+certain house, upon which this fearful fellow had set his eye.
+<i>Magdalena</i> modestly excused himself. He wasn't made for such things; he
+couldn't go so far. As for gliding up to a roof and pulling down the
+clothes that had been hung out to dry, or snatching a woman's purse with
+a quick pull and making off with it... all right. But to break into a
+house, and face the mystery of a dwelling, in which the people might be
+at home?...</p>
+
+<p>But <i>Chamorra's</i> threatening look inspired him with greater fear than
+did the anticipation of such an encounter, and he finally consented.
+Very well; he would go as an assistant,&mdash;to carry the spoils, but ready
+to flee at the slightest alarm. And he refused to accept an old
+jack-knife that his companion offered him. He was consistent.</p>
+
+<p>"Petty thefts aplenty; but as to blood, not a single drop."</p>
+
+<p>Late in the afternoon they entered the narrow vestibule of a house that
+had no janitor, and whose inhabitants were all away. <i>Chamorra</i> knew his
+victim; a comfortably fixed artisan who must have a neat little pile
+saved up. He was surely at the beach with his wife or at the bull-fight.
+Above, the door of the apartment yielded easily, and the two companions
+began to work in the gloom of the shuttered windows.</p>
+
+<p><i>Chamorra</i> forced the locks of two chiffoniers and a closet. There was
+silver coin, copper coin, several bank-notes rolled up at the bottom of
+a fan-case, the wedding-jewelry, a clock. Not a bad haul. His anxious
+looks wandered over the place, seeking to make off with everything that
+could be carried. He lamented the uselessness of <i>Magdalena</i>, who,
+restless with fear and with his arms hanging limp at his sides, was
+pacing to and fro without knowing what to do.</p>
+
+<p>"Take the quilts," ordered <i>Chamorra</i>, "We're sure to get something for
+the wool."</p>
+
+<p>And <i>Magdalena</i>, eager to finish the job as soon as possible, penetrated
+into the dark alcove, gropingly passing a rope underneath the quilts and
+the bed-sheets. Then, aided by his friend, he hurriedly made a bundle of
+everything, casting the voluminous burden upon his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>They left without being detected, and walked off in the direction of the
+outskirts of the town, towards a shanty of Arrancapinos, where
+<i>Chamorra</i> had his haunt. The latter walked ahead, ready to run at the
+first sign of danger; <i>Magdalena</i> followed, trotting along, almost
+hidden beneath the tremendous load, fearing to feel at any moment the
+hand of the police upon his neck.</p>
+
+<p>Upon examining the proceeds of the robbery in the remote corral,
+<i>Chamorra</i> exhibited the arrogance of a lion, granting his accomplice a
+few copper coins. This must be enough for the moment. He did this for
+<i>Magdalena's</i> own good, as <i>Magdalena</i> was such a spendthrift. Later he
+would give more.</p>
+
+<p>Then they untied the bundle of quilts, and <i>Chamorra</i> bent over, his
+hands on his hips, exploding with laughter. What a find!... What a
+present!</p>
+
+<p><i>Magdalena</i> likewise burst into guffaws, for the first time that
+afternoon. Upon the bed-clothes lay an infant, dressed only in a little
+shirt, its eyes shut and its face purple from suffocation, but moving
+its chest with difficulty at feeling the first caress of fresh air.
+<i>Magdalena</i> recalled the vague sensation he had experienced during his
+journey hither,&mdash;that of something alive moving inside the thick load on
+his back. A weak, suffocated whining pursued him in his flight.... The
+mother had left the little one asleep in the cool darkness of the
+alcove, and they, without knowing it, had carried it off together with
+the bed-clothes.</p>
+
+<p><i>Magdalena's</i> frightened eyes now looked questioningly at his companion.
+What were they to do with the child?... But that evil soul was laughing
+away like a very demon.</p>
+
+<p>"It's yours; I present it to you.... Eat it with potatoes."</p>
+
+<p>And he went off with all the spoils. <i>Magdalena</i> was left standing in
+doubt, while he cradled the child in his arms. The poor little thing!...
+It looked just like his own Tono, when he sang him to sleep; just like
+him when he was ill and leaned his little head upon his father's bosom,
+while the parent wept, fearing for the child's life. The same little
+soft, pink feet; the same downy flesh, with skin as soft as silk.... The
+infant had ceased to cry, looking with surprised eyes at the robber, who
+was caressing it like a nurse.</p>
+
+<p>"Lullaby, my poor little thing! There, there, my little king... child
+Jesus! Look at me. I'm your uncle."</p>
+
+<p>But <i>Magdalena</i> stopped laughing, thinking of the mother, of her
+desperate grief when she would return to the house. The loss of her
+little fortune would be her least concern. The child! Where was she to
+find her child?... He knew what mothers were like. <i>Peluchona</i> was the
+worst of women, yet he had seen even her weep and moan before her little
+one in danger.</p>
+
+<p>He gazed toward the sun, which was beginning to sink in a majestic
+summer sunset. There was still time to take the infant back to the house
+before its parents would return. And if he should encounter them, he
+would lie, saying that he had found the infant in the middle of the
+street; he would extricate himself as well as he could. Forward; he had
+never felt so brave.</p>
+
+<p>Carrying the infant in his arms he walked at ease through the very
+streets over which he had lately hastened with the anxious gait of fear.
+He mounted the staircase without encountering anybody. Above, the same
+solitude. The door was still open, the bolt forced. Within, the
+disordered rooms, the broken furniture, the drawers upon the floor, the
+overturned chairs and clothes strewn about, filled him with a sensation
+of terror similar to that which assails the assassin who returns to
+contemplate the corpse of his victim some time after the crime.</p>
+
+<p>He gave a last fond kiss to the child and left it upon the bed.</p>
+
+<p>"Good-bye, my pet!"</p>
+
+<p>But as he approached the head of the staircase he heard footsteps, and
+in the rectangle of light that entered through the open door there
+bulked the silhouette of a corpulent man. At the same time there rang
+out the shrill shriek of a female voice, trembling with fright:</p>
+
+<p>"Robbers!... Help!"</p>
+
+<p><i>Magdalena</i> tried to escape, opening a passage for himself with his head
+lowered, like a cornered rat; but he felt himself seized by a pair of
+Cyclopean arms, accustomed to beating iron, and with a mighty thrust he
+was sent rolling down the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>On his face there were still signs of the bruises he had received from
+contact with the steps, and from the blows rained upon him by the
+infuriated neighbors.</p>
+
+<p>"In sum, sir. Breaking and entering. I'll get out in heaven knows how
+many years.... All for being kind-hearted. To make matters worse, they
+don't even give me any consideration, looking upon me as a clever
+criminal. Everybody knows that the real thief was <i>Chamorra</i> whom I
+haven't seen since.... And they ridicule me for a silly fool."</p>
+
+<p class="c"><span class="smcap">END</span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr />
+<h2 class="f"><a name="THE_LAST_LION" id="THE_LAST_LION"></a><a href="#toc">THE LAST LION</a></h2>
+
+<p class="n"><span class="dropcap">S</span><span style="margin-left: -1%;">C</span>ARCELY had the meeting of the honorable guild of <i>blanquers</i> come to
+order within its chapel near the towers of Serranos, when Se&ntilde;or Vicente
+asked for the floor. He was the oldest tanner in Valencia. Many masters
+recalled their apprentice days and declared that he was the same now as
+then, with his white, brush-like mustache, his face that looked like a
+sun of wrinkles, his aggressive eyes and cadaverous thinness, as if all
+the sap of his life had been consumed in the daily motions of his feet
+and hands about the vats of the tannery.</p>
+
+<p>He was the only representative of the guild's glories, the sole survivor
+of those <i>blanquers</i> who were an honor to Valencian history. The
+grandchildren of his former companions had become corrupted with the
+march of time; they were proprietors of large establishments, with
+thousands of workmen, but they would be lost if they ever had to tan a
+skin with their soft, business-man's hands. Only he could call himself a
+<i>blanquer</i> of the old school, working every day in his little hut near
+the guild house; master and toiler at the same time, with no other
+assistants than his sons and grandchildren; his workshop was of the old
+kind, amid sweet domestic surroundings, with neither threats of strikes
+nor quarrels over the day's pay.</p>
+
+<p>The centuries had raised the level of the street, converting Se&ntilde;or
+Vicente's shop into a gloomy cave. The door through which his ancestors
+had entered had grown smaller and smaller from the bottom until it had
+become little more than a window. Five stairs connected the street with
+the damp floor of the tannery, and above, near a pointed arch, a relic
+of medieval Valencia, floated like banners the skins that had been hung
+up to dry, wafting about the unbearable odor of the leather. The old man
+by no means envied the <i>moderns</i>, in their luxuriously appointed
+business offices. Surely they blushed with shame on passing through his
+lane and seeing him, at breakfast hour, taking the sun,&mdash;his sleeves and
+trousers rolled up, showing his thin arms and legs, stained red,&mdash;with
+the pride of a robust old age that permitted him to battle daily with
+the hides.</p>
+
+<p>Valencia was preparing to celebrate the centenary of one of its famous
+saints, and the guild of <i>blanquers</i>, like the other historic guilds,
+wished to make its contribution to the festivities. Se&ntilde;or Vicente, with
+the prestige of his years, imposed his will upon all the masters. The
+<i>blanquers</i> should remain what they were. All the glories of their past,
+long sequestrated in the chapel, must figure in the procession. And it
+was high time they were displayed in public! His gaze, wandering about
+the chapel, seemed to caress the guild's relics; the sixteenth century
+drums, as large as jars, that preserved within their drumheads the
+hoarse cries of revolutionary Germania; the great lantern of carved
+wood, torn from the prow of a galley; the red silk banner of the guild,
+edged with gold that had become greenish through the ages.</p>
+
+<p>All this must be displayed during the celebration, shaking off the dust
+of oblivion; even the famous lion of the <i>blanquers</i>!</p>
+
+<p>The <i>moderns</i> burst into impious laughter. The lion, too?... Yes, the
+lion, too. To Se&ntilde;or Vicente it seemed a dishonor on the part of the
+guild to forget that glorious beast. The ancient ballads, the accounts
+of celebrations that might be read in the city archives, the old folks
+who had lived in the splendid epoch of the guilds with their fraternal
+camaraderie,&mdash;all spoke of the <i>blanquers</i>' lion; but now nobody knew
+the animal, and this was a shame for the trade, a loss to the city.</p>
+
+<p>Their lion was as great a glory as the silk mart or the well of San
+Vicente. He knew very well the reason for this opposition on the part of
+the <i>moderns</i>. They feared to assume the r&ocirc;le of the lion. Never fear,
+my young fellows! He, with his burden of years, that numbered more than
+seventy, would claim this honor. It belonged to him in all justice; his
+father, his grandfather, his countless ancestors, had all been lions,
+and he felt equal to coming to blows with anybody who would dare dispute
+his right to the r&ocirc;le of the lion, traditional in his family.</p>
+
+<p>With what enthusiasm Se&ntilde;or Vicente related the history of the lion and
+the heroic <i>blanquers</i>! One day the Barbary pirates from Bujia had
+landed at Torreblanca, just beyond Castell&oacute;n, and sacked the church,
+carrying off the Shrine. This happened a little before the time of Saint
+Vicente Ferrer, for the old tanner had no other way of explaining
+history than by dividing it into two periods; before and after the
+Saint... The population, which was scarcely moved by the raids of the
+pirates, hearing of the abduction of pale maidens with large black eyes
+and plump figures, destined for the harem, as if this were an inevitable
+misfortune, broke into cries of grief upon learning of the sacrilege at
+Torreblanca.</p>
+
+<p>The churches of the town were draped in black; people went through the
+streets wailing loudly, striking themselves as a punishment. What could
+those dogs do with the blessed Host? What would become of the poor,
+defenseless Shrine?... Then it was that the valiant <i>blanquers</i> came
+upon the scene. Was not the Shrine at Bujia? Then on to Bujia in quest
+of it! They reasoned like heroes accustomed to beating hides all day
+long, and they saw nothing formidable about beating the enemies of God.
+At their own expense they fitted out a galley and the whole guild went
+aboard, carrying along their beautiful banner; the other guilds, and
+indeed the entire town, followed this example and chartered other
+vessels.</p>
+
+<p>The Justice himself cast aside his scarlet gown and covered himself with
+mail from head to foot; the worthy councilmen abandoned the benches of
+the Golden Chamber, shielding their paunches with scales that shone like
+those of the fishes in the gulf; the hundred archers of la Pluma, who
+guarded <i>la Se&ntilde;era</i> filled their quivers with arrows, and the Jews from
+the quarter of la Xedrea did a rushing business, selling all their old
+iron, including lances, notched swords and rusty corselets, in exchange
+for good, ringing pieces of silver.</p>
+
+<p>And off sped the Valencian galleys, with their jib-sails spread to the
+wind, convoyed by a shoal of dolphins, which sported about in the foam
+of their prows!... When the Moors beheld them approaching, the infidels
+began to tremble, repenting of their irreverence toward the Shrine. And
+this, despite the fact that they were a set of hardened old dogs.
+Valencians, headed by the valiant <i>blanquers</i>! Who, indeed, would dare
+face them!</p>
+
+<p>The battle raged for several days and nights, according to the tale of
+Se&ntilde;or Vicente. Reinforcements of Moors arrived, but the Valencians,
+loyal and fierce, fought to the death. And they were already beginning
+to feel exhausted from the labor of disembowelling so many infidels,
+when behold, from a neighboring mountain a lion comes walking down on
+his hind paws, for all the world like a regular person, carrying in his
+forepaws, most reverently, the Shrine,&mdash;the Shrine that had been stolen
+from Torreblanca! The beast delivered it ceremoniously into the hands of
+one of the guild, undoubtedly an ancestor of Se&ntilde;or Vicente, and hence
+for centuries his family had possessed the privilege of representing
+that amiable animal in the Valencian processions.</p>
+
+<p>Then he shook his mane, emitted a roar, and with blows and bites in
+every direction cleared the field instantly of Moors.</p>
+
+<p>The Valencians sailed for home, carrying the Shrine back like a trophy.
+The chief of the <i>blanquers</i> saluted the lion, courteously offering him
+the guild house, near the towers of Serranos, which he could consider as
+his own. Many thanks; the beast was accustomed to the sun of Africa and
+feared a change of climate.</p>
+
+<p>But the trade was not ungrateful, and to perpetuate the happy
+recollection of the shaggy-maned friend whom they possessed on the other
+shore of the sea, every time the guild banner floated in the Valencian
+celebrations, there marched behind it an ancestor of Se&ntilde;or Vicente, to
+the sound of drums, and he was covered with hide, with a mask that was
+the living image of the worthy lion, bearing in his hands a Shrine of
+wood, so small and poor that it caused one to doubt the genuine value of
+Torreblanca's own Shrine.</p>
+
+<p>Perverse and irreverent persons even dared to affirm, to the great
+indignation of Se&ntilde;or Vicente, that the whole story was a lie. Sheer
+envy! Ill will of the other trades, which couldn't point to such a
+glorious history! There was the guild chapel as proof, and in it the
+lantern from the prow of the vessel, which the conscienceless wretches
+declared dated from many centuries after the supposed battle; and there
+were the guild drums, and the glorious banner; and the moth-eaten hide
+of the lion, in which all his predecessors had encased themselves, lay
+now forgotten behind the altar, covered with cobwebs and dust, but it
+was none the less as authentic and worthy of reverence as the stones of
+el Miguelete.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p>
+
+<p>And above all there was his faith, ardent and incontrovertible, capable
+of receiving as an affront to the family the slightest irreverence
+toward the African lion, the illustrious friend of the guild.</p>
+
+<p>The procession took place on an afternoon in June. The sons, the
+daughters-in-law and the grandsons of Se&ntilde;or Vicente helped him to get
+into the costume of the lion, perspiring most uncomfortably at the mere
+touch of that red-stained wool. "Father, you're going to
+roast."&mdash;"Grandpa, you'll melt inside of this costume."</p>
+
+<p>The old man, however, deaf to the warnings of the family, shook his
+moth-eaten mane with pride, thinking of his ancestors; then he tried on
+the terrifying mask, a cardboard arrangement that imitated, with a faint
+resemblance, the countenance of the wild beast.</p>
+
+<p>What a triumphant afternoon! The streets crowded with spectators; the
+balconies decorated with bunting, and upon them rows of variegated
+bonnets shading fair faces from the sun; the ground covered with myrtle,
+forming a green, odorous carpet whose perfume seemed to expand the
+lungs.</p>
+
+<p>The procession was headed by the standard-bearers, with beards of hemp,
+crowns and striped dalmatics, holding aloft the Valencian banners
+adorned with enormous bats and large L's beside the coat of arms; then,
+to the sound of the flageolet, the retinue of brave Indians, shepherds
+from Belen, Catalans and Mallorcans; following these passed the dwarfs
+with their monstrously huge heads, clicking the castanets to the rhythm
+of a Moorish march; behind these came the giants of the Corpus and at
+the end, the banners of the guilds; an endless row of red standards,
+faded with the years, and so tall that their tops reached higher than
+the first stories of the buildings.</p>
+
+<p>Flom! Rotoplom! rolled the drums of the <i>blanquers</i>,&mdash;instruments of
+barbarous sonority, so large that their weight forced the drummers to
+bow their necks. Flom! Rotoplom! they resounded, hoarse and menacing,
+with savage solemnity, as if they were still marking the tread of the
+revolutionary German regiments, sallying forth to the encounter with the
+emperor's young leader,&mdash;that Don Juan of Arag&oacute;n, duke of Segorbe, who
+served Victor Hugo as the model for his romantic personage <i>Hernani</i>!
+Flom! Rotoplom! The people ran for good places and jostled one another
+to obtain a better view of the guild members, bursting into laughter and
+shouts. What was that? A monkey?... A wild man?... Ah! The faith of the
+past was truly laughable.</p>
+
+<p>The young members of the trade, their shirts open at the neck and their
+sleeves rolled up, took turns at carrying the heavy banner, performing
+feats of jugglery, balancing it on the palms of their hands or upon
+their teeth, to the rhythm of the drums.</p>
+
+<p>The wealthy masters had the honor of holding the cords of the banner,
+and behind them marched the lion, the glorious lion of the guild, who
+was now no longer known. Nor did the lion march in careless fashion; he
+was dignified, as the old traditions bade him be, and as Se&ntilde;or Vicente
+had seen his father march, and as the latter had seen his grandfather;
+he kept time with the drums, bowing at every step, to right and to left,
+moving the Shrine fan-wise, like a polite and well-bred beast who knows
+the respect due to the public.</p>
+
+<p>The farmers who had come to the celebration opened their eyes in
+amazement; the mothers pointed him out with their fingers so that the
+children might see him; but the youngsters, frowning, tightened their
+grasp upon their mothers' necks, hiding their faces to shed tears of
+terror.</p>
+
+<p>When the banner halted, the glorious lion had to defend himself with his
+hind paws against the disrespectful swarm of gamins that surrounded him,
+trying to tear some locks out of his moth-eaten mane. At other times the
+beast looked up at the balconies to salute the pretty girls with the
+Shrine; they laughed at the grotesque figure. And Se&ntilde;or Vicente did
+wisely; however much of a lion one may be, one must be gallant toward
+the fair sex.</p>
+
+<p>The spectators fanned themselves, trying to find a momentary coolness in
+the burning atmosphere; the <i>horchateros</i><a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> bustled among the crowds
+shouting their wares, called from all directions at once and not knowing
+whither to go first; the standard-bearers and the drummers wiped the
+sweat off their faces at every restaurant door, and at last went inside
+to seek refreshment.</p>
+
+<p>But the lion stuck to his post. His mask became soft; he walked with a
+certain weariness, letting the Shrine rest upon his stomach, having by
+this time lost all desire to bow to the public.</p>
+
+<p>Fellow tanners approached him with jesting questions.</p>
+
+<p>"How are things going, <i>so Visent?"</i></p>
+
+<p>And <i>so Visent</i> roared indignantly from the interior of his cardboard
+disguise. How should things go? Very well. He was able to keep it up,
+without failing in his part, even if the parade continued for three
+days. As for getting tired, leave that to the young folks. And drawing
+himself proudly erect, he resumed his bows, marking time with his
+swaying Shrine of wood.</p>
+
+<p>The procession lasted three hours. When the guild banner returned to the
+Cathedral night was beginning to fall.</p>
+
+<p>Plom! Retoplom! The glorious banner of the <i>blanquers</i> returned to its
+guild house behind the drums. The myrtle on the streets had disappeared
+beneath the feet of the paraders. Now the ground was covered with drops
+of wax, rose leaves and strips of tinsel. The liturgic perfume of
+incense floated through the air. Plom! Retoplom! The drums were tired;
+the strapping youths who had carried the standards were now panting,
+having lost all desire to perform balancing tricks; the rich masters
+clutched the cords of the banner tightly, as if the latter were towing
+them along, and they complained of their new shoes and their bunions;
+but the lion, the weary lion (ah, swaggering beast!), who at times
+seemed on the point of falling to the ground, still had strength left to
+rise on his hind paws and frighten the suburban couples, who pulled at a
+string of children that had been dazzled by the sights.</p>
+
+<p>A lie! Pure conceit! Se&ntilde;or Vicente knew what it felt like to be inside
+of the lion's hide. But nobody is obliged to take the part of the lion,
+and he who assumes it must stick it out to the bitter end.</p>
+
+<p>Once home, he sank upon the sofa like a bundle of wool; his sons,
+daughters-in-law and grandchildren hastened to remove the mask from his
+face. They could scarcely recognize him, so congested and scarlet were
+his features, which seemed to spurt water from every line of his
+wrinkles.</p>
+
+<p>They tried to remove his skins; but the beast was oppressed by a
+different desire, begging in a suffocated voice. He wished a drink; he
+was choking with the heat. The family, warning against illness,
+protested in vain. The deuce! He desired a drink right away. And who
+would dare resist an infuriated lion?...</p>
+
+<p>From the nearest caf&eacute; they brought him some ice-cream in a blue cup; a
+Valencian ice cream, honey-sweet and grateful to the nostrils,
+glistening with drops of white juice at the conical top.</p>
+
+<p>But what are ice creams to a lion! <i>Haaam</i>! He swallowed it at a single
+gulp, as if it were a mere trifle! His thirst and the heat assailed him
+anew, and he roared for other refreshment.</p>
+
+<p>The family, for reasons of economy, thought of the <i>horchata</i> from a
+near-by restaurant. They would see; let a full jar of it be brought. And
+Se&ntilde;or Vicente drank and drank until it was unnecessary to remove the
+skins from him. Why? Because an attack of double pneumonia finished him
+inside of a few hours. The glorious, shaggy-haired <i>uniform</i> of the
+family served him as a shroud.</p>
+
+<p>Thus died the lion of the <i>blanquers</i>,&mdash;the last lion of Valencia.</p>
+
+<p>And the fact is that <i>horchata</i> is fatal for beasts.... Pure poison!</p>
+
+<p class="c"><span class="smcap">END</span></p>
+
+<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> A belfry in Valencia.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Vendors of <i>horchata</i>, iced orgeat.</p></div>
+
+</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Luna Benamor, by Vicente Blasco Ibáńez
+
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+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Luna Benamor, by Vicente Blasco Ibanez
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Luna Benamor
+
+Author: Vicente Blasco Ibanez
+
+Translator: Isaac Goldberg
+
+Release Date: June 19, 2007 [EBook #21870]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LUNA BENAMOR ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chuck Greif
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+LUNA BENAMOR
+
+BY
+
+VICENTE BLASCO IBANEZ
+
+TRANSLATED FROM THE ORIGINAL SPANISH BY
+
+ISAAC GOLDBERG
+
+JOHN W. LUCE & COMPANY
+
+BOSTON 1919
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+LUNA BENAMOR, A Novel
+
+THE TOAD
+
+COMPASSION
+
+LUXURY
+
+RABIES
+
+THE WINDFALL
+
+THE LAST LION
+
+
+
+
+LUNA BENAMOR
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+
+LUIS AGUIRRE had been living in Gibraltar for about a month. He had
+arrived with the intention of sailing at once upon a vessel bound for
+Oceanica, where he was to assume his post as a consul to Australia. It
+was the first important voyage of his diplomatic career. Up to that time
+he had served in Madrid, in the offices of the Ministry, or in various
+consulates of southern France, elegant summery places where for half the
+year life was a continuous holiday. The son of a family that had been
+dedicated to diplomacy by tradition, he enjoyed the protection of
+influential persons. His parents were dead, but he was helped by his
+relatives and the prestige of a name that for a century had figured in
+the archives of the nation. Consul at the age of twenty-five, he was
+about to set sail with the illusions of a student who goes out into the
+world for the first time, feeling that all previous trips have been
+insignificant.
+
+Gibraltar, incongruous and exotic, a mixture of races and languages, was
+to him the first sign of the far-off world in quest of which he was
+journeying. He doubted, in his first surprise, if this rocky land
+jutting into the open sea and under a foreign flag, could be a part of
+his native peninsula. When he gazed out from the sides of the cliff
+across the vast blue bay with its rose-colored mountains dotted by the
+bright settlements of La Linea, San Roque and Algeciras,--the cheery
+whiteness of Andalusian towns,--he felt convinced that he was still in
+Spain. But great difference distinguished the human groups camped upon
+the edge of this horseshoe of earth that embraced the bay. From the
+headland of Tarifa to the gates of Gibraltar, a monotonous unity of
+race; the happy warbling of the Andalusian dialect; the broad-brimmed
+hat; the _mantilla_ about the women's bosoms and the glistening hair
+adorned with flowers. On the huge mountain topped by the British flag
+and enclosing the oriental part of the bay, a seething cauldron of
+races, a confusion of tongues, a carnival of costume: Hindus, Mussulmen,
+English, Hebrews, Spanish smugglers, soldiers in red coats, sailors from
+every nation, living within the narrow limits of the fortifications,
+subjected to military discipline, beholding the gates of the
+cosmopolitan sheepfold open with the signal at sunrise and close at the
+booming of the sunset gun. And as the frame of this picture, vibrant
+with its mingling of color and movement, a range of peaks, the highlands
+of Africa, the Moroccan mountains, stretched across the distant horizon,
+on the opposite shore of the strait; here is the most crowded of the
+great marine boulevards, over whose blue highway travel incessantly the
+heavily laden ships of all nationalities and of all flags; black
+transatlantic steamers that plow the main in search of the seaports of
+the poetical Orient, or cut through the Suez Canal and are lost in the
+isle-dotted immensities of the Pacific.
+
+To Aguirre, Gibraltar was a fragment of the distant Orient coming
+forward to meet him; an Asiatic port wrenched from its continent and
+dragged through the waves to run aground on the coast of Europe, as a
+sample of life in remote countries.
+
+He was stopping at a hotel on Royal Street, a thoroughfare that winds
+about the mountain,--that vertebral column of the city to which lead,
+like thin threads, the smaller streets in ascending or descending slope.
+Every morning he was startled from his sleep by the noise of the sunrise
+gun,--a dry, harsh discharge from a modern piece, without the
+reverberating echo of the old cannon. The walls trembled, the floors
+shook, window panes and curtains palpitated, and a few moments later a
+noise was heard in the street, growing gradually louder; it was the
+sound of a hurrying flock, the dragging of thousands of feet, the buzz
+of conversations carried on in a low voice along the closed and silent
+buildings. It was the Spanish day laborers arriving from La Linea ready
+for week at the arsenal; the farmhands from San Roque and Algeciras who
+supplied the people of Gibraltar with vegetables and fruits.
+
+It was still dark. On the coast of Spain perhaps the sky was blue and
+the horizon was beginning to be colored by the rain of gold from the
+glorious birth of the sun. In Gibraltar the sea fogs condensed around
+the heights of the cliff, forming a sort of blackish umbrella that
+covered the city, holding it in a damp penumbra, wetting the streets and
+the roofs with impalpable rain. The inhabitants despaired beneath this
+persistent mist, wrapped about the mountain tops like a mourning hat. It
+seemed like the spirit of Old England that had flown across the seas to
+watch over its conquest; a strip of London fog that had insolently taken
+up its place before the warm coasts of Africa, the very home of the sun.
+
+The morning advanced, and the glorious, unobstructed light of the bay,
+yellow blue, at last succeeded in penetrating the settlement of
+Gibraltar, descending into the very depths of its narrow streets,
+dissolving the fog that had settled upon the trees of the Alameda and
+the foliage of the pines that extended along the coast so as to mask the
+fortifications at the top, drawing forth from the shadows the gray
+masses of the cruisers anchored in the harbor and the black bulk of the
+cannon that formed the shore batteries, filtering into the lugubrious
+embrasures pierced through the cliff, cavernous mouths revealing the
+mysterious defences that had been wrought with mole-like industry in the
+heart of the rock.
+
+When Aguirre went down to the entrance of the hotel, after having given
+up all attempt to sleep during the commotion in the street, the
+thoroughfare was already in the throes of its regular commercial
+hurly-burly, a multitude of people, the inhabitants of the entire town
+plus the crews and the passengers of the vessels anchored in the harbor.
+Aguirre plunged into the bustle of this cosmopolitan population, walking
+from the section of the waterfront to the palace of the governor. He had
+become an Englishman, as he smilingly asserted. With the innate ability
+of the Spaniard to adapt himself to the customs of all foreign countries
+he imitated the manner of the English inhabitants of Gibraltar. He had
+bought himself a pipe, wore a traveling cap, turned up trousers and a
+swagger stick. The day on which he arrived, even before night-fall, they
+already knew throughout Gibraltar who he was and whither he was bound.
+Two days later the shopkeepers greeted him from the doors of their
+shops, and the idlers, gathered on the narrow square before the
+Commercial Exchange, glanced at him with those affable looks that greet
+a stranger in a small city where nobody keeps his secret.
+
+He walked along in the middle of the street, avoiding the light,
+canvas-topped carriages. The tobacco stores flaunted many-colored signs
+with designs that served as the trade-mark of their products. In the
+show windows the packages of tobacco were heaped up like so many bricks,
+and monstrous unsmokable cigars, wrapped in tinfoil as if they were
+sausages, glitteringly displayed their absurd size; through the doors of
+the Hebrew shops, free of any decoration, could be seen the shelves
+laden with rolls of silk and velvet, or the rich silk laces hanging from
+the ceiling. The Hindu bazaars overflowed into the street with their
+exotic, polychrome rarities: clothes embroidered with terror-inspiring
+divinities and chimerical animals; carpets in which the lotus-flower was
+adapted to the strangest designs; kimonos of delicate, indefinable
+tints; porcelain jars with monsters that belched fire; amber-colored
+shawls, as delicate as woven sighs; and in the small windows that had
+been converted into display cases, all the trinkets of the extreme
+Orient, in silver, ivory or ebony; black elephants with white tusks,
+heavy-paunched Buddhas, filigree jewels, mysterious amulets, daggers
+engraved from hilt to point. Alternating with these establishments of a
+free port that lives upon contraband, there were confectioneries owned
+by Jews, cafes and more cafes, some of the Spanish type with round,
+marble-topped tables, the clicking of dominoes, smoke-laden atmosphere
+and high-pitched discussions accompanied by vehement gestures; others
+resembling more the English bar, crowded with motionless, silent
+customers, swallowing one cocktail after another, without any other sign
+of emotion than a growing redness of the nose.
+
+Through the center of the street there passed by, like a masquerade, the
+variety of types and costumes that had surprised Aguirre as a spectacle
+distinct from that furnished by other European cities. There were
+Moroccans, some with a broad, hooded cape, white or black, the cowl
+lowered as if they were friars; others wearing balloon trousers, their
+calves exposed to the air and with no other protection for the feet than
+their loose, yellow slippers; their heads covered by the folds of their
+turbans. They were Moors from Tangier who supplied the place with
+poultry and vegetables, keeping their money in the embroidered leather
+wallets that hung from their girdled waists. The Jews of Morocco,
+dressed in oriental fashion with silk kirtle and an ecclesiastical
+calotte, passed by leaning upon sticks, as if thus dragging along their
+bland, timid obesity. The soldiers of the garrison,--tall, slender,
+rosy-complexioned--made the ground echo with the heavy cadence of their
+boots. Some were dressed in khaki, with the sobriety of the soldier in
+the field; others wore the regular red jacket. White helmets, some lined
+with yellow, alternated with the regulation caps; on the breasts of the
+sergeants shone the red stripe; other soldiers carried in their armpits
+the thin cane that is the emblem of authority. Above the collar of many
+coats rose the extraordinarily thin British neck, high, giraffe-like,
+with a pointed protuberance in front. Soon the further end of the street
+was filled with white; an avalanche of snowy patches seemed to advance
+with rhythmic step. It was the caps of the sailors. The cruisers in the
+Mediterranean had given their men shore leave and the thoroughfare was
+filled with ruddy, cleanshaven boys, with faces bronzed by the sun,
+their chests almost bare within the blue collar, their trousers wide at
+the bottom, swaying from side to side like an elephant's trunk, fellows
+with small heads and childish features, with their huge hands hanging at
+the ends of their arms as if the latter could hardly sustain their heavy
+bulk. The groups from the fleet separated, disappearing into the various
+side streets in search of a tavern. The policeman in the white helmet
+followed with a resigned look, certain that he would have to meet some
+of them later in a tussle, and beg the favor of the king when, at the
+sound of the sunset gun, he would bring them back dead drunk to their
+cruiser.
+
+Mingling with these fighters were gypsies with their loose belts, their
+long staffs and their dark faces; old and repulsive creatures, who no
+sooner stopped before a shop than the owners became uneasy at the
+mysterious hiding-places of their cloaks and skirts; Jews from the city,
+too, with broad frocks and shining silk hats, dressed for the
+celebration of one of their holidays; negroes from the English
+possessions; coppery Hindus with drooping mustache and white trousers,
+so full and short that they looked like aprons; Jewesses from Gibraltar,
+dressed in white with all the correctness of the Englishwomen; old
+Jewesses from Morocco, obese, puffed out, with a many-colored kerchief
+knotted about their temples; black cassocks of Catholic priests, tight
+frocks of Protestant priests, loose gowns of venerable rabbis, bent,
+with flowing beards, exuding grime and sacred wisdom... And all this
+multifarious world was enclosed in the limits of a fortified town,
+speaking many tongues at the same time, passing without any transition
+in the course of the conversation from English to a Spanish pronounced
+with the strong Andalusian accent.
+
+Aguirre wondered at the moving spectacle of Royal Street; at the
+continuously renewed variety of its multitude. On the great boulevards
+of Paris, after sitting in the same cafe for six days in succession, he
+knew the majority of those who passed by on the sidewalk. They were
+always the same. In Gibraltar, without leaving the restricted area of
+its central street, he experienced surprises every day. The whole
+country seemed to file by between its two rows of houses. Soon the
+street was filled with bearskin caps worn by ruddy, green-eyed,
+flat-nosed persons. It was a Russian invasion. There had just anchored
+in the harbor a transatlantic liner that was bearing this cargo of human
+flesh to America. They scattered throughout the place; they crowded the
+cafes and the shops, and under their invading wave they blotted out the
+normal population of Gibraltar. At two o'clock it had resumed its
+regular aspect and there reappeared the helmets of the police, the
+sailors' caps, the turbans of the Moors, the Jews and the Christians.
+The liner was already at sea after having taken on its supply of coal;
+and thus, in the course of a single day, there succeeded one another the
+rapid and uproarious invasions of all the races of the continent, in
+this city that might be called the gateway of Europe, by the inevitable
+passage through which one part of the world communicates with the Orient
+and the other with the Occident.
+
+As the sun disappeared, the flash of a discharge gleamed from the top of
+the mountain, and the boom of the sunset gun warned strangers without a
+residence permit that it was time to leave the city. The evening patrol
+paraded through the streets, with its military music of fifes and drums
+grouped about the beloved national instrument of the English, the bass
+drum, which was being pounded with both hands by a perspiring athlete,
+whose rolled-up sleeves revealed powerful biceps. Behind marched Saint
+Peter, an official with escort, carrying the keys to the city. Gibraltar
+was now out of communication with the rest of the world; doors and gates
+were closed. Thrust upon itself it turned to its devotions, finding in
+religion an excellent pastime to precede supper and sleep. The Jews
+lighted the lamps of their synagogues and sang to the glory of Jehovah;
+the Catholics counted their rosaries in the Cathedral; from the
+Protestant temple, built in the Moorish style as if it were a mosque,
+rose, like a celestial whispering, the voices of the virgins accompanied
+by the organ; the Mussulmen gathered in the house of their consul to
+whine their interminable and monotonous salutation to Allah. In the
+temperance restaurants, established by Protestant piety for the cure of
+drunkenness, sober soldiers and sailors, drinking lemonade or tea, broke
+forth into harmonious hymns to the glory of the Lord of Israel, who in
+ancient times had guided the Jews through the desert and was now guiding
+old England over the seas, that she might establish her morality and her
+merchandise.
+
+Religion filled the existence of these people, to the point of
+suppressing nationality. Aguirre knew that in Gibraltar he was not a
+Spaniard; he was a Catholic. And the others, for the most part English
+subjects, scarcely recalled this status, designating themselves by the
+name of their creed.
+
+In his walks through Royal Street Aguirre had one stopping place: the
+entrance to a Hindu bazaar ruled over by a Hindu from Madras named
+Khiamull. During the first days of his stay he had bought from the
+shopkeeper various gifts for his first cousins in Madrid, the daughters
+of an old minister plenipotentiary who helped him in his career. Ever
+since then Aguirre would stop for a chat with Khiamull, a shrivelled old
+man, with a greenish tan complexion and mustache of jet black that
+bristled from his lips like the whiskers of a seal. His gentle, watery
+eyes--those of an antelope or of some humble, persecuted beast--seemed
+to caress Aguirre with the softness of velvet. He spoke to the young man
+in Spanish, mixing among his words, which were pronounced with an
+Andalusian accent, a number of rare terms from distant tongues that he
+had picked up in his travels. He had journeyed over half the world for
+the company by whom he was now employed. He spoke of his life at the
+Cape, at Durban, in the Philippines, at Malta, with a weary expression.
+Sometimes he looked young; at others his features contracted with an
+appearance of old age. Those of his race seem to be ageless. He recalled
+his far-off land of the sun, with the melancholy voice of an exile; his
+great sacred river, the flower-crowned Hindu virgins, slender and
+gracefully curved, showing from between the thick jewelled jacket and
+their linen folds a bronze stomach as beautiful as that of a marble
+figure. Ah!... When he would accumulate the price of his return thither,
+he would certainly join his lot to that of a maiden with large eyes and
+a breath of roses, scarcely out of childhood. Meanwhile he lived like an
+ascetic fakir amongst the Westerners, unclean folks with whom he was
+willing to transact business but with whom he avoided all unnecessary
+contact. Ah, to return yonder! Not to die far from the sacred river!...
+And as he expressed his intimate wishes to the inquisitive Spaniard who
+questioned him concerning the distant lands of light and mystery, the
+Hindu coughed painfully, his face becoming darker than ever, as if the
+blood that was circulating beneath the bronze of his skin had turned
+green.
+
+At times Aguirre, as if waking from a dream, would ask himself what he
+was doing there in Gibraltar. Since he had arrived with the intention of
+sailing at once, three large vessels had passed the strait bound for the
+Oceanic lands. And he had allowed them to sail on, pretending not to
+know of their presence, never being able to learn the exact conditions
+of his voyage, writing to Madrid, to his influential uncle, letters in
+which he spoke of vague ailments that for the moment delayed his
+departure. Why?... Why?...
+
+Upon arising, the day following his arrival at Gibraltar, Aguirre looked
+through the window curtains of his room with all the curiosity of a
+newcomer. The heavens were clouded; it was an October sky; but it was
+warm,--a muggy, humid warmth that betrayed the proximity of the African
+coast.
+
+Upon the flat roof of a neighboring house he noticed a strange
+construction,--a large arbor made of woven reeds and thatched with green
+branches. Within this fragile abode, he was able to make out through its
+bright curtains a long table, chairs, and an old-fashioned lamp hanging
+from the top... What a queer whim of these people who, having a house,
+chose to live upon the roof!
+
+A hotel attendant, while he put Aguirre's room in order, answered all
+his inquiries. The Jews of Gibraltar were celebrating a holiday, the
+Feast of Tabernacles, one of the most important observances of the year.
+It was in memory of the long wandering of the Israelites through the
+desert. In commemoration of their sufferings the Jews were supposed to
+eat in the open air, in a tabernacle that resembled the tents and huts
+of their forefathers. The more fanatic of them, those most attached to
+ancient customs, ate standing, with a staff in their hands, as if ready
+to resume their journey after the last mouthful. The Hebrew merchants of
+the central street erected their structures on the roof; those of the
+poor quarters built theirs in a yard or corral, wherever they could
+catch a glimpse of the open sky. Those who, because of their extreme
+poverty, lived in a shanty, were invited to dine in company with the
+more fortunate, with that fraternity of a race compelled by hatred and
+persecution to preserve a firm solidarity.
+
+The tabernacle Aguirre saw was that of old Aboab and his son, brokers
+who kept their establishment on the selfsame Royal Street, just a few
+doors below. And the servant pronounced the name Aboab (father and son)
+with that mingling of superstitious awe and hatred which is inspired in
+the poor by wealth that is considered unjustly held. All Gibraltar knew
+them; it was the same in Tangier, and the same in Rabat and Casablanca.
+Hadn't the gentleman heard of them? The son directed the business of the
+house, but the father still took part, presiding over all with his
+venerable presence and that authority of old age which is so infallible
+and sacred among Hebrew families.
+
+"If you could only see the old man!" added the attendant, with his
+Andalusian accent. "A white beard that reaches down to his waist, and if
+you'd put it into hot water it would yield more than a pitcherful of
+grease. He's almost as greasy as the grand Rabbi, who's the bishop among
+them.... But he has lots of money. Gold ounces by the fistful, pounds
+sterling by the shovel; and if you'd see the hole he has in the street
+for his business you'd be amazed. A mere poor man's kitchen. It seems
+impossible that he can store so much there!"
+
+After breakfast, when Aguirre went back to his room in search of his
+pipe, he saw that the Aboab tabernacle was occupied by the whole family.
+At the back, which was in semi-obscurity, he seemed to make out a white
+head presiding over the table and on each side elbows leaning upon the
+tablecloth, and the skirts and trousers of persons who were for the most
+part invisible.
+
+Two women came out on the roof; they were both young, and after glancing
+for a moment at the inquisitive fellow in the hotel window, turned their
+gaze in a different direction, as if they had not noticed him. To
+Aguirre these Aboab daughters were not very impressive, and he wondered
+whether the much vaunted beauty of Jewesses was but another of the many
+lies admitted by custom, consecrated by time and accepted without
+investigation. They had large eyes, of bovine beauty; moist and dilated,
+but with the addition of thick, prominent eyebrows, as black and
+continuous as daubs of ink. Their nostrils were wide and the beginnings
+of obesity already threatened to submerge their youthful slenderness in
+corpulence.
+
+They were followed by another woman, doubtless the mother, who was so
+fat that her flesh shook as she moved. Her eyes, too, were attractive,
+but were spoiled by the ugly eyebrows. Her nose, her lower lip and the
+flesh of her neck hung loosely; in her there was already completed the
+fatal maturity which was beginning to appear in her daughters. All three
+possessed the yellowish pallor characteristic of Oriental races. Their
+thick lips, faintly blue, revealed something of the African element
+grafted upon their Asiatic origin.
+
+"Hola! What's this!" murmured Aguirre with a start.
+
+A fourth woman had come out from the depths of the tabernacle. She must
+be English; the Spaniard was certain of this. Yes, she was an English
+brunette, with a bluish cast to her dark skin and a slim, athletic
+figure whose every movement was graceful. A creole from the colonies,
+perhaps, born of some Oriental beauty and a British soldier.
+
+She looked without any bashfulness toward the window of the hotel,
+examining the Spaniard with the leisurely glance of a bold boy, meeting
+the shock of his eyes without flinching. Then she wheeled about on her
+heel as if beginning a dancing figure, turned her back to the Spaniard
+and leaned against the shoulders of the two other young ladies,
+thrusting them aside and taking pleasure, to the accompaniment of loud
+outbursts of laughter, in pushing their unwieldy persons with her
+vigorous, boyish arms.
+
+When all the women returned to the interior of the tabernacle, Aguirre
+abandoned his lookout, more and more convinced of the exactness of his
+observations. Decidedly, she was not a Jewess. And the better to
+convince himself, he talked at the door with the manager of the hotel,
+who knew all Gibraltar. After a few words this man guessed to whom
+Aguirre was referring.
+
+"That's Luna... Lunita Benamor, old Aboab's granddaughter. What a girl,
+eh? The belle of Gibraltar! And rich! Her dowry is at least one hundred
+thousand _duros_."
+
+A Jewess!... She was a Jewess! From that time Aguirre began to meet Luna
+frequently in the narrow limits of a city where people could hardly move
+without encountering one another. He saw her on the roof of her house;
+he came across her on Royal Street as she entered her grandfather's
+place; he followed her, sometimes in the vicinity of the Puerta del Mar
+and at others from the extreme end of the town, near the Alameda. She
+was usually unaccompanied, like all the young ladies of Gibraltar, who
+are brought up in conformity with English customs. Besides, the town was
+in a manner a common dwelling in which all knew one another and where
+woman ran no risk.
+
+Whenever Aguirre met her they would exchange casual glances, but with
+the expression of persons who have seen each other very often. The
+consul still experienced the astonishment of a Spaniard influenced by
+centuries of prejudice. A Jewess! He would never have believed that the
+race could produce such a woman. Her outward appearance, correct and
+elegant as that of an Englishwoman, gave no other indication of her
+foreign origin than a marked predilection for silk clothes of bright
+hues, especially strawberry color, and a fondness for sparkling jewelry.
+With the gorgeousness of an American who pays no attention to hours, she
+would go out early in the morning with a thick necklace of pearls
+hanging upon her bosom and two flashing pendants in her ears. A picture
+hat with costly plumes, imported from London, concealed the ebony beauty
+of her hair.
+
+Aguirre had acquaintances in Gibraltar, idlers, whom he had met in the
+cafes, young, obsequious, courteous Israelites who received this
+Castilian official with ancestral deference, questioning him about
+affairs of Spain as if that were a remote country.
+
+Whenever passed by them during her constant walks along Royal
+Street,--taken with no other purpose than to kill time--they spoke of
+her with respect. "More than a hundred thousand _duros_." Everybody knew
+the amount of the dowry. And they acquainted the consul with the
+existence of a certain Israelite who was the girl's affianced husband.
+He was now in America to complete his fortune. He was rich, but a Jew
+must labor to add to the legacy of his fathers. The families had
+arranged the union without even consulting them, when she was twelve
+years old and he already a man corrupted by frequent changes of
+residence and traveling adventures. Luna had been waiting already ten
+years for the return of her fiance from Buenos Aires, without the
+slightest impatience, like the other maidens of her race, certain that
+everything would take its regular course at the appointed hour.
+
+"These Jewish girls," said a friend of Aguirre, "are never in a hurry.
+They're accustomed to biding their time. Just see how their fathers have
+been awaiting the Messiah for thousands of years without growing tired."
+
+One morning, when the Feast of Tabernacles had ended and the Jewish
+population of the town returned to its normal pursuits, Aguirre entered
+the establishment of the Aboabs under the pretext of changing a quantity
+of money into tender of English denomination. It was a rectangular room
+without any other light than that which came in through the doorway, its
+walls kalsomined and with a wainscoting of white, glazed tiles. A small
+counter divided the shop, leaving a space for the public near the
+entrance and reserving the rest of the place for the owners and a large
+iron safe. Near the door a wooden charity-box, inscribed in Hebrew,
+awaited the donations of the faithful for the philanthropic activities
+of the community. The Jewish customers, in their dealings with the
+house, deposited there the extra _centimos_ of their transactions.
+Behind the counter were the Aboabs, father and son. The patriarch,
+Samuel Aboab, was very aged and of a greasy corpulence. As he sat there
+in his armchair his stomach, hard and soft at the same time, had risen
+to his chest. His shaven upper lip was somewhat sunken through lack of
+teeth; his patriarchal beard, silver white and somewhat yellow at the
+roots, fell in matted locks, with the majesty of the prophets. Old age
+imparted to his voice a whimpering quaver, and to his eyes a tearful
+tenderness. The least emotion brought tears; every word seemed to stir
+touching recollections. Tears and tears oozed from his eyes, even when
+he was silent, as if they were fountains whence escaped the grief of an
+entire people, persecuted and cursed through centuries upon centuries.
+
+His son Zabulon was already old, but a certain black aspect lingered
+about him, imparting an appearance of virile youth. His eyes were dark,
+sweet and humble, but with an occasional flash that revealed a fanatic
+soul, a faith as firm as that of ancient Jerusalem's people, ever ready
+to stone or crucify the new prophets; his beard, too, was black and firm
+as that of a Maccabean warrior; black, also, was his curly hair, which
+looked like an astrakhan cap. Zabulon figured as one of the most active
+and respected members of the Jewish community,--an individual
+indispensable to all beneficent works, a loud singer in the synagogue
+and a great friend of the Rabbi, whom he called "our spiritual chief,"
+an assiduous attendant at all homes where a fellow-religionist lay
+suffering, ready to accompany with his prayers the gasps of the dying
+man and afterwards lave the corpse according to custom with a profusion
+of water that ran in a stream into the street. On Saturdays and special
+holidays Zabulon would leave his house for the synagogue, soberly
+arrayed in his frock and his gloves, wearing a silk hat and escorted by
+three poor co-religionists who lived upon the crumbs of his business and
+were for these occasions dressed in a style no less sober and fitting
+than that of their protector.
+
+"All hands on deck!" the wits of Royal Street would cry. "Make way, for
+here comes a cruiser with four smokestacks!"
+
+And the four smokestacks of well brushed silk sailed between the groups,
+bound for the synagogue, looking now to this side and now to that so as
+to see whether any wicked Hebrew was lounging about the streets instead
+of attending synagogue; this would afterwards be reported to the
+"spiritual head."
+
+Aguirre, who was surprised at the poverty of the establishment, which
+resembled a kitchen, was even more surprised at the facility with which
+money rolled across the narrow counter. The packets of silver pieces
+were quickly opened, passing rapidly through the shaggy, expert hands of
+Zabulon; the pounds fairly sang, as they struck the wood, with the merry
+ring of gold; the bank-notes, folded like unstitched folios, flashed for
+a moment before concealing the colors of their nationality in the safe:
+the simple, monotonous white of the English paper, the soft blue of the
+Bank of France, the green and red mixture of the Spanish Bank. All the
+Jews of Gibraltar flocked hither, with that same commercial solidarity
+which leads them to patronize only establishments owned by members of
+their race; Zabulon, all by himself, without the aid of clerks, and
+without allowing his father (the venerable fetich of the family's
+fortune) to leave his seat, directed this dance of money, conducting it
+from the hands of the public to the depths of the iron safe, or fetching
+it forth to spread it, with a certain sadness, upon the counter. The
+ridiculous little room seemed to grow in size and acquire beauty at the
+sound of the sonorous names that issued from the lips of the banker and
+his customers. London! Paris! Vienna!... The house of Aboab had branches
+everywhere. Its name and its influence extended not only to the famous
+world centers, but even to the humblest corners, wherever one of their
+race existed. Rabat, Casablanca, Larache, Tafilete, Fez, were African
+towns into which the great banks of Europe could penetrate only with the
+aid of these auxiliaries, bearing an almost famous name yet living very
+poorly.
+
+Zabulon, as he changed Aguirre's money, greeted him as if he were a
+friend. In that city every one knew every body else within twenty-four
+hours.
+
+Old Aboab pulled himself together in his chair, peering out of his weak
+eyes with a certain surprise at not being able to recognize this
+customer among his habitual visitors.
+
+"It's the consul, father," said Zabulon, without raising his glance from
+the money that he was counting, guessing the reason for the movement of
+the old man behind him. "The Spanish consul who stops at the hotel
+opposite our house."
+
+The patriarch seemed to be impressed and raised his hand to his hat with
+humble courtesy.
+
+"Ah! The consul! The worthy consul!" he exclaimed, emphasizing the title
+as a token of his great respect for all the powers of the earth. "Highly
+honored by your visit, worthy consul."
+
+And believing that he owed his visitor renewed expressions of flattery,
+he added with tearful sighs, imparting to his words a telegraphic
+conciseness, "Ah, Spain! Beautiful land, excellent country, nation of
+gentlemen!... My forefathers came from there, from a place called
+Espinosa de los Monteros."
+
+His voice quivered, pained by recollections, and afterwards, as if he
+had in memory advanced to recent times, he added, "Ah! Castelar!...
+Castelar, a friend of the Jews, and he defended them. Of the _judeos_,
+as they say there!"
+
+His flood of tears, ill restrained up to that moment, could no longer be
+held back, and at this grateful recollection it gushed from his eyes,
+inundating his beard.
+
+"Spain! Beautiful country!" sighed the old man, deeply moved.
+
+And he recalled everything that in the past of his race and his family
+had united his people with that country. An Aboab had been chief
+treasurer of the King of Castile; another had been a wonderful
+physician, enjoying the intimacy of bishops and cardinals. The Jews of
+Portugal and of Spain had been great personages,--the aristocracy of the
+race. Scattered now over Morocco and Turkey, they shunned all
+intercourse with the coarse, wretched Israelite population of Russia and
+Germany. They still recited certain prayers, in the synagogue, in old
+Castilian, and the Jews of London repeated them by heart without knowing
+either their origin or their meaning, as if they were prayers in a
+language of sacred mystery. He himself, when he prayed at the synagogue
+for the King of England, imploring for him an abundance of health and
+prosperity even as Jews the world over did for the ruler of whatever
+country they happened to inhabit, added mentally an entreaty to the Lord
+for the good fortune of beautiful Spain.
+
+Zabulon, despite his respect for his father, interrupted him brusquely,
+as if he were an imprudent child. In his eyes there glowed the harsh
+expression of the impassioned zealot.
+
+"Father, remember what they did to us. How they cast us out... how they
+robbed us. Remember our brothers who were burned alive."
+
+"That's true, that's true," groaned the patriarch, shedding new tears
+into a broad handkerchief with which he wiped his eyes. "It's true....
+But in that beautiful country there still remains something that is
+ours. The bones of our ancestors."
+
+When Aguirre left, the old man showered him with tokens of extreme
+courtesy. He and his son were at the consul's service. And the consul
+returned almost every morning to chat with the patriarch, while Zabulon
+attended to the customers and counted money.
+
+Samuel Aboab spoke of Spain with tearful delight, as of a marvelous
+country whose entrance was guarded by terrible monsters with fiery
+swords. Did they still recall the _judeos_ there? And despite Aguirre's
+assurances, he refused to believe that they were no longer called thus
+in Spain. It grieved the old man to die before beholding Espinosa de los
+Monteros; a beautiful city, without a doubt. Perhaps they still
+preserved there the memory of the illustrious Aboabs.
+
+The Spaniard smilingly urged him to undertake the journey. Why did he
+not go there?...
+
+"Go! Go to Spain!..." The old man huddled together like a timorous snail
+before the idea of this journey.
+
+"There are still laws against the poor _judeos_. The decree of the
+Catholic Kings. Let them first repeal it!... Let them first call us
+back!"
+
+Aguirre laughed at his listener's fears. Bah! The Catholic Kings! Much
+they counted for now!... Who remembered those good gentlemen?
+
+But the old man persisted in his fears. He had suffered much. The terror
+of the expulsion was still in his bones and in his blood, after four
+centuries. In summer, when the heat forced them to abandon the torrid
+rock, and the Aboab family hired a little cottage on the seashore, in
+Spanish territory just beyond La Linea, the patriarch dwelt in constant
+restlessness, as if he divined mysterious perils in the very soil upon
+which he trod. Who could tell what might happen during the night? Who
+could assure him that he would not awake in chains, ready to be led like
+a beast to a port? This is what had happened to his Spanish ancestors,
+who had been forced to take refuge in Morocco, whence a branch of the
+family had moved to Gibraltar when the English took possession of the
+place.
+
+Aguirre poked mild fun at the childish fears of the aged fellow,
+whereupon Zabulon intervened with his darkly energetic authority.
+
+"My father knows what he is talking about. We will never go; we can't
+go. In Spain the old customs always return; the old is converted into
+the new. There is no security; woman has too much power and interferes
+in matters that she does not understand."
+
+Woman! Zabulon spoke scornfully of the sex. They should be treated as
+the Jews treated them. The Jews taught them nothing more than the amount
+of religion necessary to follow the rites. The presence of women in the
+synagogue was in many instances not obligatory. Even when they came,
+they were confined to the top of a gallery, like spectators of the
+lowest rank. No. Religion was man's business, and the countries in which
+woman has a part in it cannot offer security.
+
+Then the unsympathetic Israelite spoke enthusiastically of the "greatest
+man in the world," Baron Rothschild, lord over kings and
+governments--taking care never to omit the title of baron every time he
+pronounced the name--and he finally named all the great Jewish centers,
+which were ever increasing in size and population.
+
+"We are everywhere," he asserted, blinking maliciously. "Now we are
+spreading over America. Governments change, peoples spread over the face
+of the earth, but we are ever the same. Not without reason do we await
+the Messiah. He will come, some day."
+
+On one of his morning visits to the ill appointed bank Aguirre was
+introduced to Zabulon's two daughters,--Sol and Estrella,--and to his
+wife, Thamar. On another morning Aguirre experienced a tremor of emotion
+upon hearing behind him the rustle of silks and noticing that the light
+from the entrance was obscured by the figure of a person whose identity
+his nerves had divined. It was Luna, who had come, with all the interest
+that Hebrew women feel for their domestic affairs, to deliver an order
+to her uncle. The old man grasped her hands across the counter,
+caressing them tremblingly.
+
+"This is my granddaughter, sir consul, my granddaughter Luna. Her father
+is dead, and my daughter too. She comes from Morocco. No one loves the
+poor girl as much as her grandfather does."
+
+And the patriarch burst into tears, moved by his own words.
+
+Aguirre left the shop with triumphant joy. They had spoken to each
+other; now they were acquainted. The moment he met her upon the street
+he would cling to her, taking advantage of some blessed customs that
+seemed to have been made for lovers.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+
+NEITHER could tell how, after several ordinary meetings, their friendly
+confidence grew, or which had been the first word to reveal the mystery
+of their thoughts.
+
+They saw each other mornings when Aguirre would go to his window. The
+Feast of Tabernacles had come to an end, and the Aboabs had taken down
+the religious structure, but Luna continued to go to the roof under
+various pretexts, so that she might exchange a glance, a smile, a
+gesture of greeting with the Spaniard. They did not converse from these
+heights through fear of the neighbors, but afterwards they met in the
+street, and Luis, after a respectful salute, would join the young lady,
+and they would walk along as companions, like other couples they met on
+their way. All were known to one another in that town. Only by this
+knowledge could married couples be distinguished from simple friends.
+
+Luna visited various shops on errands for the Aboabs, like a good Jewess
+who is interested in all the family affairs. At other times she wandered
+aimlessly through Royal Street, or walked in the direction of the
+Alameda, explaining the landmarks of the city to Aguirre at her side. In
+the midst of these walks she would stop at the brokers' shop to greet
+the patriarch, who smiled childishly as he contemplated the youthful and
+beautiful couple.
+
+"Senor consul, senor consul," said Samuel one day, "I brought from my
+house this morning the family papers, for you to read. Not all of them.
+There are too many altogether! We Aboabs are very old; I wish to prove
+to the consul that we are _judeos_ of Spain, and that we still remember
+the beautiful land."
+
+And from underneath the counter he drew forth divers rolls of parchment
+covered with Hebrew characters. They were matrimonial documents, acts of
+union of the Aboabs with certain families of the Israelite community. At
+the head of all these documents figured on one side the coat of arms of
+England and on the other that of Spain, in bright colors and gold
+borders.
+
+"We are English," declared the patriarch. "May the Lord preserve our
+king and send him much happiness; but we are Spaniards historically:
+Castilians, that is... Castilians."
+
+He selected from the parchments one that was cleaner and fresher than
+the others, and bent over it his white, wavy beard and his tearful eyes.
+
+"This is the wedding contract of Benamor with my poor daughter: Luna's
+parents. You can't understand it, for it's in Hebrew characters, but the
+language is Castilian, pure Castilian, as it was spoken by our
+ancestors."
+
+And slowly, in an infantile voice, as if he relished the obsolete forms
+of the words, he read the terms of the contract that united the parties
+"in the custom of Old Castile." Then he enumerated the conditions of the
+marriage, the penalties either of the contracting parties might incur if
+the union were dissolved through his or her fault.
+
+"'Such party will pay,'" mumbled the patriarch, "'will pay... so many
+silver ounces.' Are there still silver ounces in Castile, senor
+consul?"...
+
+Luna, in her conversations with Aguirre, demonstrated an interest as
+keen as that of her old grandfather in the beautiful land, the far-off,
+remote, mysterious land,--in spite of the fact that its boundary was
+situated but a few steps away, at the very gates of Gibraltar. All she
+knew of it was a little fisherman's hamlet, beyond La Linea, whither she
+had gone with her family on their summer vacations.
+
+"Cadiz! Seville! How enchanting they must be!... I can picture them to
+myself: I have often beheld them in my dreams, and I really believe that
+if I ever saw them they wouldn't surprise me in the least.... Seville!
+Tell me, Don Luis, is it true that sweethearts converse there through a
+grating? And is it certain that the maidens are serenaded with a guitar,
+and the young men throw their capes before them as a carpet over which
+to pass? And isn't it false that men slay one another for them?... How
+charming! Don't deny all this. It's all so beautiful!..."
+
+Then she would summon to memory all her recollections of that land of
+miracles, of that country of legends, in which her forebears had dwelt.
+When she was a child her grandmother, Samuel Aboab's wife, would lull
+her to sleep reciting to her in a mysterious voice the prodigious events
+that always had Castile as their background and always began the same:
+"Once upon a time there was a king of Toledo who fell in love with a
+beautiful and charming Jewess named Rachel...."
+
+"Toledo!"... As she uttered this name Luna rolled her eyes as in the
+vagueness of a dream. The Spanish capital of Israel! The second
+Jerusalem! Her noble ancestors, the treasurer of the king and the
+miraculous physician, had dwelt there!
+
+"You must have seen Toledo, Don Luis. You surely have been there. How I
+envy you!... Very beautiful, isn't it? Vast! Enormous!... Like
+London?... Like Paris? Of course not.... But certainly far larger than
+Madrid."
+
+And carried away by the enthusiasm of her illusions she forgot all
+discretion, questioning Luis about his past. Indubitably he was of the
+nobility: his very bearing revealed that. From the very first day she
+had seen him, upon learning his name and his nationality, she had
+guessed that he was of high origin. A hidalgo such as she had imagined
+every man from Spain to be, with something Semitic in his face and in
+his eyes, but more proud, with an air of hauteur that was incapable of
+supporting humiliations and servility. Perhaps he had a uniform for
+festive occasions, a suit of bright colors, braided with gold... and a
+sword, a sword!
+
+Her eyes shone with admiration in the presence of this hidalgo from the
+land of knights who was dressed as plainly as a shopkeeper of Gibraltar,
+yet who could transform himself into a glorious insect of brilliant
+hues, armed with a mortal sting. And Aguirre did not disturb her
+illusions, answering affirmatively, with all the simplicity of a hero.
+Yes; he had a golden costume, that of the consul. He possessed a sword,
+which went with his uniform, and which had never been unsheathed.
+
+One sunny morning the pair, quite unconsciously, took the path to the
+Alameda. She made anxious inquiries about Aguirre's past, with
+indiscreet curiosity, as always happens between persons who feel
+themselves attracted to each other by a budding affection. Where had he
+been born? How had he spent his childhood? Had he loved many women?...
+
+They passed beneath the arches of an old gate that dated back to the
+time of the Spanish possession, and which still preserved the eagles and
+the shields of the Austrian dynasty. In the old moat, now converted into
+a garden, there was a group of tombs,--those of the English sailors who
+had died at Trafalgar. They walked along an avenue in which the trees
+alternated with heaps of old bombs and cone-shaped projectiles, reddened
+by rust. Further on, the large cannon craned their necks toward the gray
+cruisers of the military harbor and the extensive bay, over whose blue
+plain, tremulous with gold, glided the white dots of some sailing
+vessels.
+
+On the broad esplanade of the Alameda, at the foot of the mountain
+covered with pines and cottages, were groups of youths running and
+kicking a restless ball around. At that hour, as at every hour of the
+day, the huge ball of the English national game sped through the air
+over paths, fields and garrison yards. A concert of shouts and kicks,
+civil as well as military, rose into the air, to the glory of strong and
+hygienic England.
+
+They mounted a long stairway, afterwards seeking rest in a shady little
+square, near the monument to a British hero, the defender of Gibraltar,
+surrounded by mortars and cannon. Luna, gazing across the blue sea that
+could be viewed through the colonnade of trees, at last spoke of her own
+past.
+
+Her childhood had been sad. Born in Rabat, where the Jew Benamor was
+engaged in the exportation of Moroccan cloths, her life had flowed on
+monotonously, without any emotion other than that of fear. The Europeans
+of this African port were common folk, who had come thither to make
+their fortune. The Moors hated the Jews. The rich Hebrew families had to
+hold themselves apart, nourishing themselves socially upon their own
+substance, ever on the defensive in a country that lacked laws. The
+young Jewish maidens were given an excellent education, which they
+acquired with the facility of their race in adopting all progress. They
+astonished newcomers to Rabat with their hats and their clothes, similar
+to those of Paris and London; they played the piano; they spoke various
+languages, and yet, on certain nights of sleeplessness and terror, their
+parents dressed them in foul tatters and disguised them, staining their
+faces and their hands with moist ashes and lampblack, so that they might
+not appear to be Jewish daughters and should rather resemble slaves.
+There were nights in which an uprising of the Moors was feared, an
+invasion of the near-by Kabyles, excited in their fanaticism by the
+inroads of European culture. The Moroccans burned the houses of the
+Jews, plundered their treasures, fell like wild beasts upon the white
+women of the infidels, decapitating them with hellish sadism after
+subjecting them to atrocious outrages. Ah! Those childhood nights in
+which she dozed standing, dressed like a beggar girl, since the
+innocence of her tender age was of no avail as a protection!... Perhaps
+it was these frights that were responsible for her dangerous
+illness,--an illness that had brought her near to death, and to this
+circumstance she owed her name Luna.
+
+"At my birth I was named Horabuena, and a younger sister of mine
+received the name Asibuena. After a period of terror and an invasion of
+the Moroccans in which our house was burned down and we thought we were
+all doomed to slaughter, my sister and I fell ill with fever. Asibuena
+died; happily, I was saved."
+
+And she described to Luis, who listened to her under a spell of horror,
+the incidents of this exotic, abnormal life,--all the sufferings of her
+mother in the poor house where they had taken refuge. Aboab's daughter
+screamed with grief and tore her black hair before the bed where her
+daughter lay overcome by the stupor of fever. Her poor Horabuena was
+going to die.
+
+"Ay, my daughter! My treasure Horabuena, my sparkling diamond, my nest
+of consolation!... No more will you eat the tender chicken! No more will
+you wear your neat slippers on Saturdays, nor will your mother smile
+with pride when the Rabbi beholds you so graceful and beautiful!..."
+
+The poor woman paced about the room lighted by a shaded lamp. In the
+shadows she could detect the presence of the hated _Huerco_, the demon,
+with a Spanish name who comes at the appointed hour to bear off human
+creatures to the darkness of death. She must battle against the evil
+one, must deceive the _Huerco_, who was savage yet stupid, just as her
+forefathers had deceived him many a time:
+
+She repressed her tears and sighs, calmed her voice, and stretching out
+upon the floor spoke softly, with a sweet accent, as if she were
+receiving an important visit:
+
+"_Huerco_, what have you come for?... Are you looking for Horabuena?
+Horabuena is not here; she has gone forever. She who is here is named...
+Luna. Sweet Lunita, beautiful Lunita. Off with you, _Huerco_, begone!
+She whom you seek is not here."
+
+For some time she was calm, then her returning fears made her speak
+again to her importunate, lugubrious guest. There he was again! She
+could feel his presence.
+
+"_Huerco_, I tell you you're mistaken! Horabuena is gone; look for her
+elsewhere. Only Luna is here. Sweet Lunita, precious Lunita."
+
+And so great was her insistence that at last she succeeded in deceiving
+_Huerco_ with her entreating, humble voice, although it is true that, to
+give an air of truth to the deceit, on the following day, at a synagogue
+ceremony, the name of Horabuena was changed to that of Luna.
+
+Aguirre listened to these revelations with the same interest as that
+with which he would read a novel about a far-off, exotic land that he
+was never to behold.
+
+It was on this same morning that the consul revealed the proposal which
+for several days he had guarded in his thoughts, afraid to express it.
+Why not love each other? Why not be sweethearts? There was something
+providential about the way the two had met; they should not fail to take
+advantage of the fate which had brought them together. To have become
+acquainted! To have met, despite the difference of countries and of
+races!...
+
+Luna protested, but her protest was a smiling one. What madness!
+Sweethearts? Why? They could not marry; they were of different faiths.
+Besides, he had to leave. But Aguirre interrupted resolutely:
+
+"Don't reason. Just close your eyes. In love there should be no
+reflection. Good sense and the conventionalities are for persons who
+don't love each other. Say yes, and afterwards time and our good luck
+will arrange everything."
+
+Luna laughed, amused by Aguirre's grave countenance and the vehemence of
+his speech.
+
+"Sweethearts in the Spanish fashion?... Believe me, I am tempted to
+assent. You will go off and forget me, just as you've doubtless
+forgotten others; and I'll be left cherishing the remembrance of you.
+Excellent. We'll see each other every day and will chat about our
+affairs. Serenades are not possible here, nor can you place your cape at
+my feet without being considered crazy. But that doesn't matter. We'll
+be sweethearts; I should love to see what it's like."
+
+She laughed as she spoke, with her eyes closed, just like a child to
+whom a pleasant game has been proposed. Soon she opened her eyes wide,
+as if something forgotten had reawakened in her with a painful pressure.
+She was pale. Aguirre could guess what she was trying to say. She was
+about to tell him of her previous betrothal, of that Jewish fiance who
+was in America and might return. But after a brief pause of indecision
+she returned to her former attitude, without breaking the silence. Luis
+was grateful to her for this. She desired to conceal her past, as do all
+women in the first moment of love.
+
+"Agreed. We'll be sweethearts. Let's see, consul. Say pretty things to
+me, of the sort that you folks say in Spain when you come to the
+grating."
+
+That morning Luna returned to her house somewhat late for the lunch
+hour. The family was awaiting her impatiently. Zabulon looked at his
+niece with a stern glance. Her cousins Sol and Estrella alluded to the
+Spaniard in a jesting manner. The patriarch's eyes grew moist as he
+spoke of Spain and its consul.
+
+Meanwhile the latter had stopped at the door of the Hindu bazaar to
+exchange a few words with Khiamull. He felt the necessity of sharing his
+brimming happiness with another. The Hindu was greener than ever. He
+coughed frequently and his smile, which resembled that of a bronze
+child, was really a dolorous grimace.
+
+"Khiamull, long live love! Believe me, for I know much about life. You
+are sickly and some day you'll die, without beholding the sacred river
+of your native land. What you need is a companion, a girl from
+Gibraltar... or rather, from La Linea; a half gypsy, with her cloak,
+pinks in her hair and alluring manners. Am I not right, Khiamull?..."
+
+The Hindu smiled with a certain scorn, shaking his head. No. Every one
+to his own. He was of his race and lived in voluntary solitude among the
+whites. Man can do nothing against the sympathies and aversions of the
+blood. Brahma, who was the sum of divine wisdom, separated all creatures
+into castes.
+
+"But, man!... friend Khiamull! It seems to me that a girl of the kind
+I've mentioned is by no means to be despised...."
+
+The Hindu smiled once more at the speaker's ignorance. Every race has
+its own tastes and its sense of smell. To Aguirre, who was a good
+fellow, he would dare to reveal a terrible secret. Did he see those
+whites, the Europeans, so content with their cleanliness and their
+baths?... They were all impure, polluted by a natural stench which it
+was impossible for them to wipe out. The son of the land of the lotus
+and the sacred clay was forced to make an effort in order to endure
+contact with them... They all smelled of raw meat.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+
+IT was a winter afternoon; the sky was overcast and the air was gray,
+but it was not cold. Luna and the Spaniard were walking slowly along the
+road that leads to Europa Point, which is the extreme end of the
+peninsula of Gibraltar. They had left behind them the Alameda and the
+banks of the Arsenal, passing through leafy gardens, along reddish
+villas inhabited by officers of army and navy, huge hospitals resembling
+small towns, and garrisons that seemed like convents, with numerous
+galleries in which swarms of children were scurrying about; here, too,
+clothes and tableware were being washed and cleaned by the soldiers'
+wives--courageous wanderers over the globe, as much at home in the
+garrisons of India as in those of Canada. The fog concealed from view
+the coast of Africa, lending to the Strait the appearance of a shoreless
+sea. Before the pair of lovers stretched the dark waters of the bay, and
+the promontory of Tarifa revealed its black outline faintly in the fog,
+resembling a fabulous rhinoceros bearing upon its snout, like a horn,
+the tower of the lighthouse. Through the ashen-gray clouds there
+penetrated a timid sunbeam,--a triangle of misty light, similar to the
+luminous stream from a magic lantern,--which traced a large shaft of
+pale gold across the green-black surface of the sea. In the center of
+this circle of anemic light there floated, like a dying swan, the white
+spot of a sailboat.
+
+The two lovers were oblivious to their surroundings. They walked along,
+engrossed in that amorous egotism which concentrates all life in a
+glance, or in the delicate contact of the bodies meeting and grazing
+each other at every step. Of all Nature there existed for them only the
+dying light of the afternoon, which permitted them to behold each other,
+and the rather warm breeze which, murmuring among the cacti and the
+palms, seemed to serve as the musical accompaniment to their
+conversation. At their right rumbled the far-off roar of the sea
+striking against the rocks. On their left reigned pastoral peace,--the
+melodious calm of the pines, broken from time to time only by the noise
+of the carts, which, followed by a platoon of soldiers in their shirt
+sleeves, wheeled up the roads of the mountain.
+
+The two looked at each other with caressing eyes, smiling with the
+automatism of love; but in reality they were sad, with that sweet
+sadness which in itself constitutes a new voluptuousness. Luna,
+influenced by the positivism of her race, was gazing into the future,
+while Aguirre was content with the present moment, not caring to know
+what would be the end of this love. Why trouble oneself imagining
+obstacles!...
+
+"I'm not like you, Luna. I have confidence in our lot. We'll marry and
+travel about the world. Don't let that frighten you. Remember how I came
+to know you. It was during the Feast of Tabernacles; you were eating
+almost on foot, like those gypsies that wander over the earth and resume
+their journey at the end of their meal. You come from a race of nomads
+which even today roams the world. I arrived just in time. We'll leave
+together; for I, too, am, because of my career, a wanderer. Always
+together! We will be able to find happiness in any land whatsoever.
+We'll carry springtime with us, the happiness of life, and will love
+each other deeply."
+
+Luna, flattered by the vehemence of these words, nevertheless contracted
+her features into an expression of sadness.
+
+"Child!" she murmured, with her Andalusian accent. "What sweet
+illusions... my precious consul! But only illusions, after all. How are
+we to marry? How can this be arranged?... Are you going to become a
+convert to my religion?"
+
+Aguirre started with surprise and looked at Luna with eyes that betrayed
+his amazement.
+
+"Man alive! I, turn Jew?..."
+
+He was no model of pious enthusiasm. He had passed his days without
+paying much attention to religion. He knew that the world contained many
+creeds, but without doubt, as far as he was concerned, decent persons
+the world over were all Catholics. Besides, his influential uncle had
+warned him not to jest with these matters under penalty of hampering
+advancement in his career.
+
+"No. No, I don't see the necessity of that.... But there must be some
+way of getting over the difficulty. I can't say what it is, but there
+surely must be one. At Paris I met very distinguished gentlemen who were
+married to women of your race. This can all be arranged. I assure you
+that it shall be. I have an idea! Tomorrow morning, if you wish, I'll go
+to see the chief Rabbi, your 'spiritual head,' as you call him. He seems
+to be a fine fellow; I've seen him several times upon the street; a well
+of wisdom, as your kind say. A pity that he goes about so unclean,
+smelling of rancid sanctity!... Now don't make such a wry face. It's a
+matter of minor importance! A little bit of soap can set it aright....
+There, there, don't get angry. The gentleman really pleases me a great
+deal, with his little white goatee and his wee voice that seems to come
+from the other world!... I tell you I'm going to see him and say, 'Senor
+Rabbi, Luna and I adore each other and wish to many; not like the Jews,
+by contract and with the right to change their minds, but for all our
+life, for centuries and centuries. Bind us from head to foot, so that
+there'll be none in heaven or on earth that can separate us. I can't
+change my religion because that would be base, but I swear to you, by
+all my faith as a Christian, that Luna will be more cared for, pampered
+and adored than if I were Methuselah, King David, the prophet Habakkuk
+or any other of the gallants that figure in the Scriptures.'"
+
+"Silence, you scamp!" interrupted the Jewess with superstitious anxiety,
+raising one hand to his lips to prevent him from continuing. "Seal your
+lips, sinner!"
+
+"Very well. I'll be silent, but it must be agreed that we'll settle this
+one way or another. Do you believe it possible for any one to sever us
+after such a serious love affair... and such a long one?"
+
+"Such a long one!" repeated Luna like an echo, imparting a grave
+expression to his words.
+
+Aguirre, in his silence, seemed to be given over to a difficult mental
+calculation.
+
+"At least a month long!" he said at last, as if in wonder at the length
+of time that had flown by.
+
+"No, not a month," protested Luna. "More, much more!"
+
+He resumed his meditation.
+
+"Positively; more than a month. Thirty-eight days, counting today....
+And seeing each other every day! And falling deeper and deeper in love
+each day!..."
+
+They walked along in silence, their gaze lowered, as if overwhelmed by
+the great age of their love. Thirty-eight days!... Aguirre recalled a
+letter that he had received the day before, bristling with surprise and
+indignation. He had been in Gibraltar already two months without sailing
+for Oceanica. What sort of illness was this? If he did not care to
+assume his post, he ought to return to Madrid. The instability of his
+present position and the necessity of solving this passion which little
+by little had taken possession of him came to his thoughts with
+agonizing urgency.
+
+Luna strolled on, her eyes upon the ground, moving her fingers as if
+counting.
+
+"Yes, that's it. Thirty-eight.... Exactly! It seems impossible that you
+could have loved me for so long. Me! An old woman!"
+
+And in response to Aguirre's bewildered glance she added, sadly, "You
+already know. I don't hide it.... Twenty-two years old. Many of my race
+marry at fourteen."
+
+Her resignation was sincere; it was the resignation of the Oriental
+woman, accustomed to behold youth only in the bud of adolescence.
+
+"Often I find it impossible to explain your love for me. I feel so proud
+of you!... My cousins, to vex me, try to find defects in you, and
+can't!... No, they can't! The other day you passed by my house and I was
+behind the window-blinds with Miriam, who was my nurse; she's a Jewess
+from Morocco, one of those who wear kerchiefs and wrappers. 'Look,
+Miriam, at that handsome chap, who belongs to our neighborhood.' Miriam
+looked. 'A Jew? No. That can't be. He walks erect, with a firm step, and
+our men walk haltingly, with their legs doubled as if they were about to
+kneel. He has teeth like a wolf and eyes like daggers. He doesn't lower
+his head nor his gaze.' And that's how you are. Miriam was right. You
+stand out from among all the young men of my blood. Not that they lack
+courage; there are some as strong as the Maccabees; Massena, Napoleon's
+companion, was one of us, but the natural attitude of them all, before
+they are transformed by anger, is one of humility and submission. We
+have been persecuted so much!... You have grown up in a different
+environment."
+
+Afterwards the young woman seemed to regret her words. She was a bad
+Jewess; she scarcely had any faith in her beliefs and in her people; she
+went to the synagogue only on the Day of Atonement and on the occasion
+of other solemn, unavoidable ceremonies.
+
+"I believe that I've been waiting for you forever. Now I am sure that I
+knew you long before seeing you. When I saw you for the first time, on
+that day during the Feast of the Tabernacles, I felt that something
+grave and decisive had occurred in my life. When I learned who you were,
+I became your slave and hungered anxiously for your first word."
+
+Ah, Spain!... She was like old Aboab; her thoughts had often flown to
+the beautiful land of her forefathers, wrapped in mystery. At times she
+recalled it only to hate it, as one hates a beloved person, for his
+betrayals and his cruelties, without ceasing to love him. At others, she
+called to mind with delight the tales she had heard from her
+grandmother's lips, the songs with which she had been lulled to sleep as
+a child,--all the legends of the old Castilian land, abode of treasures,
+enchantments and love affairs, comparable only to the Bagdad of the
+Arabs, to the wonderful city of the thousand and one nights. Upon
+holidays, when the Jews remained secluded in the bosom of the family,
+old Aboab or Miriam, her nurse, had many a time beguiled her with
+ancient ballads in the manner of old Castile, that had been transmitted
+from generation to generation; stories of love affairs between arrogant,
+knightly Christians and beautiful Jewesses with fair complexions, large
+eyes and thick, ebony tresses, just like the holy beauties of the
+Scriptures.
+
+    En la ciudad de Toledo,
+    en la ciudad de Granada,
+    hay un garrido mancebo
+    que Diego Leon se llama.
+    Namorose de Thamar,
+    que era hebrea castellana....
+
+(In the city of Toledo, in the city of Granada, there is a handsome
+youth called Diego Leon. He fell in love with Tamar, who was a Spanish
+Jewess....)
+
+There still echoed in her memory fragments of these ancient chronicles
+that had brought many a tremor to her dreamy childhood. She desired to
+be Tamar; she would have waited years and years for the handsome youth,
+who would be as brave and arrogant as Judas Maccabeus himself, the Cid
+of the Jews, the lion of Judea, the lion of lions; and now her hopes
+were being fulfilled, and her hero had appeared at last, coming out of
+the land of mystery, with his conqueror's stride, his haughty head, his
+dagger eyes, as Miriam said. How proud it made her feel! And
+instinctively, as if she feared that the apparition would vanish, she
+slipped her hand about Aguirre's arm, leaning against him with caressing
+humility.
+
+They had reached Europa Point, the outermost lighthouse of the
+promontory. On an esplanade surrounded by military buildings there was a
+group of ruddy young men, their khaki trousers held in place by leather
+braces and their arms bare, kicking and driving a huge ball about. They
+were soldiers. They stopped their game for a moment to let the couple
+pass. There was not a single glance for Luna from this group of strong,
+clean-living youths, who had been trained to a cold sexuality by
+physical fatigue and the cult of brawn.
+
+As they turned a corner of the promontory they continued their walk on
+the eastern side of the cliff. This part was unoccupied; here tempests
+and the raging winds from the Levant came to vent their fury. On this
+side were no other fortifications than those of the summit, almost
+hidden by the clouds which, coming from the sea, encountered the
+gigantic rampart of rock and scaled the peaks as if assaulting them.
+
+The road, hewn out of the rough declivity, meandered through gardens
+wild with African exuberance. The pear trees extended, like green
+fences, their serried rows of prickle-laden leaves; the century-plants
+opened like a profusion of bayonets, blackish or salmon-red in color;
+the old agaves shot their stalks into the air straight as masts, which
+were topped by extended branches that gave them the appearance of
+telegraph poles. In the midst of this wild vegetation arose the lonely
+summer residence of the governor. Beyond was solitude, silence,
+interrupted only by the roar of the sea as it disappeared into invisible
+caves.
+
+Soon the two lovers noticed, at a great distance, signs of motion amidst
+the vegetation of the slope. The stones rolled down as if some one were
+pushing them under his heel; the wild plants bent under an impulse of
+flight, and shrill sounds, as if coming from a child being maltreated,
+rent the air. Aguirre, concentrating his attention, thought he saw some
+gray forms jumping amid the dark verdure.
+
+"Those are the monkeys of the Rock," said Luna calmly, as she had seen
+them many times.
+
+At the end of the path was the famous Cave of the Monkeys. Now Aguirre
+could see them plainly, and they looked like agile, shaggy-haired
+bundles jumping from rock to rock, sending the loose pebbles rolling
+from under their hands and feet and showing, as they fled, the inflamed
+protuberances under their stiff tails.
+
+Before coming up to the Cave of the Monkeys the two lovers paused. The
+end of the road was in sight a little further along abruptly cut off by
+a precipitous projection of the rock. At the other side, invisible, was
+the bay of the Catalanes with its town of fisherfolk,--the only
+dependency of Gibraltar. The cliff, in this solitude, acquired a savage
+grandeur. Human beings were as nothing; natural forces here had free
+range, with all their impetuous majesty. From the road could be seen the
+sea far, far below. The boats, diminished by the distance, seemed like
+black insects with antennae of smoke, or white butterflies with their
+wings spread. The waves seemed only light curls on the immense blue
+plain.
+
+Aguirre wished to go down and contemplate at closer range the gigantic
+wall which the sea beat against. A rough, rocky path led, in a straight
+line, to an entrance hewn out of the stone, backed by a ruined wall, a
+hemispherical sentry-box and several shanties whose roofs had been
+carried off by the tempests. These were the debris of old
+fortifications,--perhaps dating back to the time in which the Spaniards
+had tried to reconquer the place.
+
+As Luna descended, with uncertain step, supported by her lover's hand
+and scattering pebbles at every turn, the melodious silence of the sea
+was broken by a reverberating _raack!_ as if a hundred fans had been
+brusquely opened. For a few seconds everything vanished from before
+their eyes; the blue waters, the red crags, the foam of the
+breakers,--under a flying cloud of grayish white that spread out at
+their feet. This was formed by hundreds of sea-gulls who had been
+frightened from their place of refuge and were taking to flight; there
+were old, huge gulls, as fat as hens, young gulls, as white and graceful
+as doves. They flew off uttering shrill cries, and as this cloud of
+fluttering wings dissolved, there came into view with all its grandeur,
+the promontory and the deep waters that beat against it in ceaseless
+undulation.
+
+It was necessary to raise one's head and to lift one's eyes to behold in
+all its height this fortress of Nature, sheer, gray, without any sign of
+human presence other than the flagstaff visible at the summit, as small
+as a toy. Over all the extensive face of this enormous cliff there was
+no other projection than several masses of dark vegetation, clumps
+suspended from the rock. Below, the waves receded and advanced, like
+blue bulls that retreat a few paces so as to attack with all the greater
+force; as an evidence of this continuous assault, which had been going
+on for centuries and centuries, there were the crevices opened in the
+rock, the mouths of the caves, gates of ghostly suggestion and mystery
+through which the waves plunged with terror-inspiring roar. The debris
+of these openings, the fragments of the ageless assaults,--loosened
+crags, piled up by the tempests,--formed a chain of reefs between whose
+teeth the sea combed its foamy hair or raged with livid frothing on
+stormy days.
+
+The lovers remained seated among the old fortifications, beholding at
+their feet the blue immensity and before their eyes the seemingly
+interminable wall that barred from sight a great part of the horizon.
+Perhaps on the other side of the cliff the gold of the sunset was still
+shining. On this side already the shades of night were gently falling.
+The sweethearts were silent, overwhelmed by the silence of the spot,
+united to each other by an impulse of fear, crushed by their
+insignificance in the midst of this annihilating vastness, even as two
+Egyptian ants in the shadow of the Great Pyramid.
+
+Aguirre felt the necessity of saying something, and his voice took on a
+grave character, as if in those surroundings, impregnated with the
+majesty of Nature, it was impossible to speak otherwise.
+
+"I love you," he began, with the incongruity of one who passes without
+transition from long meditation to the spoken word. "I love you, for you
+are of my race and yet you are not; because you speak my language and
+yet your blood is not my blood. You possess the grace and beauty of the
+Spanish woman, yet there is something more in you,--something exotic,
+that speaks to me of distant lands, of poetic things, of unknown
+perfumes that I seem to smell whenever I am near you.... And you, Luna.
+Why do you love me?"
+
+"I love you," she replied, after a long silence, her voice solemn and
+veiled like that of an emotional soprano, "I love you because you, too,
+have something in your face that resembles those of my race, and yet you
+are as distinct from them as is the servant from the master. I love
+you... I don't know why. In me there dwells the soul of the ancient
+Jewesses of the desert, who went to the well in the oasis with their
+hair let down and their pitchers on their heads. Then came the Gentile
+stranger, with his camels, begging water; she looked at him with her
+solemn, deep eyes, and as she poured the water in between her white
+hands she gave him her heart, her whole soul, and followed him like a
+slave.... Your people killed and robbed mine; for centuries my
+forefathers wept in strange lands the loss of their new Zion, their
+beautiful land, their nest of consolation. I ought to hate you, but I
+love you; I am yours and will follow you wherever you go." The blue
+shadows of the promontory became deeper. It was almost night. The
+sea-gulls, shrieking, retired to their hiding-places in the rocks. The
+sea commenced to disappear beneath a thin mist. The lighthouse of Europe
+shone like a diamond from afar in the heavens above the Strait, which
+were still clear. A sweet somnolence seemed to arise from the dying day,
+enveloping all Nature. The two human atoms, lost in this immensity, felt
+themselves invaded by the universal tremor, oblivious to all that but a
+short time before had constituted their lives. They forgot the presence
+of the city on the other side of the mountain; the existence of
+humanity, of which they were infinitesimal parts.... Completely alone,
+penetrating each other through their pupils! Thus, thus forever! There
+was a crackling sound in the dark, like dry branches creaking before
+they break.
+
+All at once a red flash sped through the air,--something straight and
+rapid as the flight of a fiery bird. Then the mountain trembled and the
+sea echoed under a dry thunder. The sunset gun!... A timely boom.
+
+The two shuddered as though just awakening from a dream. Luna, as if in
+flight, ran down the path in search of the main road, without listening
+to Aguirre.... She was going to get home late; she would never visit
+that spot again. It was dangerous.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+
+THE consul wandered through Royal Street, his pipe out, his glance sad
+and his cane hanging from his arm. He was depressed. When, during his
+walking back and forth he stopped instinctively before Khiamull's shop,
+he had to pass on. Khiamull was not there. Behind the counter were only
+two clerks, as greenish in complexion as their employer. His poor friend
+was in the hospital, in the hope that a few days of rest away from the
+damp gloom of the shop would be sufficient to relieve him of the cough
+that seemed to unhinge his body and make him throw up blood. He came
+from the land of the sun and needed its divine caress.
+
+Aguirre might have stopped at the Aboabs' establishment, but he was
+somewhat afraid. The old man whimpered with emotion, as usual, when he
+spoke to the consul, but in his kindly, patriarchal gestures there was
+something new that seemed to repel the Spaniard. Zabulon received him
+with a grunt and would continue counting money.
+
+For four days Aguirre had not seen Luna. The hours that he spent at his
+window, vainly watching the house of the Aboabs! Nobody on the roof;
+nobody behind the blinds, as if the house were unoccupied. Several times
+he encountered on the street the wife and daughters of Zabulon, but they
+passed him by pretending not to see him, solemn and haughty in their
+imposing obesity.
+
+Luna was no more to be seen than as if she had left Gibraltar. One
+morning he thought he recognized her delicate hand opening the blinds;
+he imagined that he could distinguish, through the green strips of
+wood, the ebony crown of her hair, and her luminous eyes raised toward
+him. But it was a fleeting apparition that lasted only a second. When he
+tried to make a gesture of entreaty, when he moved his arms imploring
+her to wait, Luna had already disappeared.
+
+How was he to approach her, breaking through the guarded aloofness in
+which Jewish families dwell? To whom was he to go for an explanation of
+this unexpected change?... Braving the icy reception with which the
+Aboabs greeted him, he entered their place under various pretexts. The
+proprietors received him with frigid politeness, as if he were an
+unwelcome customer. The Jews who came in on business eyed him with
+insolent curiosity, as if but a short time before they had been
+discussing him.
+
+One morning he saw, engaged in conversation with Zabulon, a man of about
+forty, of short stature, somewhat round shouldered with spectacles. He
+wore a high silk hat, a loose coat and a large golden chain across his
+waistcoat. In a somewhat sing-song voice he was speaking of the
+greatness of Buenos Aires, of the future that awaited those of his race
+in that city, of the good business he had done. The affectionate
+attention with which the old man and his son listened to the man
+suggested a thought to Aguirre that sent all the blood to his heart, at
+the same time producing a chill in the rest of his body. He shuddered
+with surprise. Could it be _he_?... And after a few seconds,
+instinctively, without any solid grounds, he himself gave the answer.
+Yes; it was he; there had been no mistake. Without a doubt he beheld
+before him Luna's promised husband, who had just returned from South
+America. And if he still had any doubts as to the correctness of his
+conjecture, he was strengthened in his belief by a rapid glance from the
+man,--a cold, scornful look that was cast upon him furtively, while the
+looker continued to speak with his relatives.
+
+That night he saw him again on Royal Street. He saw him, but not alone.
+He was arm in arm with Luna, who was dressed in black; Luna, who leaned
+upon him as if he were already her husband; the two walked along with
+all the freedom of Jewish engaged couples. She did not see Aguirre or
+did not wish to see him. As she passed him by she turned her head,
+pretending to be engrossed in conversation with her companion.
+
+Aguirre's friends, who were gathered in a group on the sidewalk before
+the Exchange, laughed at the meeting, with the light-heartedness of
+persons who look upon love only as a pastime.
+
+"Friend," said one of them to the Spaniard, "they've stolen her away
+from you. The Jew's carrying her off.... It couldn't have been
+otherwise. They marry only among themselves... and that girl has lots of
+money."
+
+Aguirre did not sleep a wink that night; he lay awake planning the most
+horrible deeds of vengeance. In any other country he knew what he would
+do; he would insult the Jew, slap him, fight a duel, kill him; and if
+the man did not respond to such provocation, he would pursue him until
+he left the field free.... But he lived here in another world; a country
+that was ignorant of the knightly procedure of ancient peoples. A
+challenge to a duel would cause laughter, like something silly and
+extravagant. He could, of course, attack his enemy right in the street,
+bring him to his knees and kill him if he tried to defend himself. But
+ah! English justice did not recognize love nor did it accept the
+existence of crimes of passion. Yonder, half way up the slope of the
+mountain, in the ruins of the castle that had been occupied by the
+Moorish kings of Gibraltar, he had seen the prison, filled with men from
+all lands, especially Spaniards, incarcerated for life because they had
+drawn the poniard under the impulse of love or jealousy, just as they
+were accustomed to doing a few metres further on, at the other side of
+the boundary. The whip worked with the authorization of the law; men
+languished and died turning the wheel of the pump. A cold, methodical
+cruelty, a thousand times worse than the fanatic savagery of the
+Inquisition, devoured human creatures, giving them nothing more than the
+exact amount of sustenance necessary to prolong their torture.... No.
+This was another world, where his jealousy and his fury could find no
+vent. And he would have to lose Luna without a cry of protest, without a
+gesture of manly rebellion!...Now, upon beholding himself parted from
+her, he felt for the first time the genuine importance of his love; a
+love that had been begun as a pastime, through an exotic curiosity, and
+which was surely going to upset his entire existence... What was he to
+do?
+
+He recalled the words of one of those inhabitants of Gibraltar who had
+accompanied him on Royal Street,--a strange mixture of Andalusian
+sluggishness and British apathy.
+
+"Take my word for it, friend, the chief Rabbi and those of the synagogue
+have a hand in this. You were scandalizing them; everybody saw you
+making love in public. You don't realize how important one of these
+fellows is. They enter the homes of the faithful and run everything,
+giving out orders that nobody dares to disobey."
+
+The following day Aguirre did not leave his street, and either walked up
+and down in front of the Aboabs' house or stood motionless at the
+entrance to his hotel, without losing sight for a moment of Luna's
+dwelling. Perhaps she would come out! After the meeting of the previous
+day she must have lost her fear. They must have a talk. Here it was
+three months since he had come to Gibraltar, forgetting his career, in
+danger of ruining it, abusing the influence of his relatives. And was he
+going to leave that woman without exchanging a final word, without
+knowing the cause for the sudden overturn?...
+
+Toward night-fall Aguirre experienced a strange shudder of emotion,
+similar to that which he had felt in the brokers' shop upon beholding
+the Jew that had just returned from South America. A woman came out of
+the Aboabs' house; she was dressed in black. It was Luna, just as he had
+seen her the day before.
+
+She turned her head slowly and Aguirre understood that she had seen
+him,--that perhaps she had been watching him for a long time hidden
+behind the blinds. She began to walk hastily, without turning her head,
+and Aguirre followed her at a certain distance, on the opposite
+sidewalk, jostling through the groups of Spanish workmen who, with their
+bundles in their hands, were returning from the Arsenal to the town of
+La Linea, before the sunset gun should sound and the place be closed.
+Thus he shadowed her along Royal Street, and as she arrived at the
+Exchange, Luna continued by way of Church Street, passing by the
+Catholic Cathedral. Here there were less people about and the shops were
+fewer; except at the corners of the lanes where there were small groups
+of men that had formed on coming from work. Aguirre quickened his gait
+so as to catch up with Luna, while she, as if she had guessed his
+intention, slackened her step. As they reached the rear of the
+Protestant church, near the opening called Cathedral Square, the two
+met.
+
+"Luna! Luna!..."
+
+She turned her glance upon Aguirre, and then instinctively they made for
+the end of the square, fleeing from the publicity of the street. They
+came to the Moorish arcades of the evangelist temple, whose colors were
+beginning to grow pale, vanishing into the shade of dusk. Before either
+of them could utter a word they were enveloped in a wave of soft
+melody,--music that seemed to come from afar, stray chords from the
+organ, the voices of virgins and children who were chanting in English
+with bird-like notes the glory of the Lord.
+
+Aguirre was at a loss for words. All his angry thoughts were forgotten.
+He felt like crying, like kneeling and begging something of that God,
+whoever He might be, who was at the other side of the walls, lulled by
+the hymn from the throat of the mystic birds with firm and virginal
+voices:
+
+"Luna!... Luna!"
+
+He could say nothing else, but the Jewess, stronger than he and less
+sensitive to that music which was not hers, spoke to him in a low and
+hurried voice. She had stolen out just to see him; she must talk with
+him, say good-bye. It was the last time they would meet.
+
+Aguirre heard her without fully understanding her words. All his
+attention was concentrated upon her eyes, as if the five days in which
+they had not met were the same as a long voyage, and as if he were
+seeking in Luna's countenance some effect of the extended lapse of time
+that had intervened. Was she the same?... Yes it was she. But her lips
+were somewhat pale with emotion; she pressed her lids tightly together
+as if every word cost her a prodigious effort, as if every one of them
+tore out part of her soul. Her lashes, as they met, revealed in the
+corner of her eyes lines that seemed to indicate fatigue, recent tears,
+sudden age.
+
+The Spaniard was at last able to understand what she was saying. But was
+it all true?... To part! Why? Why?... And as he stretched his arms out
+to her in the vehemence of his entreaty Luna became paler still,
+huddling together timidly, her eyes dilated with fear.
+
+It was impossible for their love to continue. She must look upon all the
+past as a beautiful dream; perhaps the best of her life... but the
+moment of waking had come. She was marrying, thus fulfilling her duty
+toward her family and her race. The past had been a wild escapade, a
+childish flight of her exalted and romantic nature. The wise men of her
+people had clearly pointed out to her the dangerous consequences of such
+frivolity. She must follow her destiny and be as her mother had
+been,--like all the women of her blood. Upon the following day she was
+going to Tangier with her promised husband, Isaac Nunez. He himself and
+her relatives had counselled her to have one last interview with the
+Spaniard, so as to put an end to an equivocal situation that might
+compromise the honor of a good merchant and destroy the tranquility of a
+peaceful man. They would marry at Tangier, where her fiance's family
+lived; perhaps they would remain there; perhaps they would journey to
+South America and resume business there. At any rate, their love, their
+sweet adventure, their divine dream, was ended forever.
+
+"Forever!" murmured Luis in a muffled voice. "Say it again. I hear it
+from your lips, yet I can't believe my ears. Say it once more. I wish to
+make sure."
+
+His voice was filled with supplication but at the same time his clenched
+hand and his threatening glance terrified Luna, who opened her eyes wide
+and pressed her lips tightly together, as if restraining a sob. The
+Jewess seemed to grow old in the shadows.
+
+The fiery bird of twilight flashed through the air with its fluttering
+of red wings. Closely following came a thunderclap that made the houses
+and ground tremble.... The sunset gun! Aguirre, in his agony, could see
+in his mind's eye a high wall of crags, flying gulls, the foamy, roaring
+sea, a misty evening light, the same as that which now enveloped them.
+
+"Do you remember, Luna? Do you remember?"...
+
+The roll of drums sounded from a near-by street, accompanied by the
+shrill notes of the fife and the deep boom of the bass drum, drowning
+with its belligerent sound the mystic, ethereal chants that seemed to
+filter through the walls of the temple. It was the evening patrol on its
+way to close the gates of the town. The soldiers, clad in uniforms of
+greyish yellow, marched by, in time with the tune from their
+instruments, while above their cloth helmets waved the arms of the
+gymnast who was deafening the street with his blows upon the drum head.
+
+The two waited for the noisy patrol to pass. As the soldiers disappeared
+in the distance the melodies from the celestial choir inside the church
+returned slowly to the ears of the listeners.
+
+The Spaniard was abject, imploring, passing from his threatening
+attitude to one of humble supplication.
+
+"Luna... Lunita! What you say is not true. It cannot be. To separate
+like this? Don't listen to any of them. Follow the dictates of your
+heart. There is still a chance for us to be happy. Instead of going off
+with that man whom you do not love, whom you surely cannot love, flee
+with me."
+
+"No," she replied firmly, closing her eyes as though she feared to
+weaken if she looked at him. "No. That is impossible. Your God is not my
+God. Your people, not my people."
+
+In the Catholic Cathedral, near by, but out of sight, the bell rang with
+a slow, infinitely melancholy reverberation. Within the Protestant
+Church the choir of virgins was beginning a new hymn, like a flock of
+joyous birds winging about the organ. Afar, gradually becoming fainter
+and fainter and losing itself in the streets that were covered by the
+shadows of night, sounded the thunder of the patrol and the playful
+lisping of the fifes, hymning the universal power of England to the tune
+of circus music.
+
+"Your God! Your people!" exclaimed the Spaniard sadly. "Here, where
+there are so many Gods! Here, where everybody is of your people!...
+Forget all that. We are all equals in life. There is only one truth:
+Love."
+
+"Ding, dong!" groaned the bell aloft in the Catholic Cathedral, weeping
+the death of day. "Lead Kindly Light!" sang the voices of the virgins
+and the children in the Protestant temple, resounding through the
+twilight silence of the square.
+
+"No," answered Luna harshly, with an expression that Aguirre had never
+seen in her before; she seemed to be another woman. "No. You have a
+land, you have a nation, and you may well laugh at races and religions,
+placing love above them. We, on the other hand, wherever we may be born,
+and however much the laws may proclaim us the equals of others, are
+always called Jews, and Jews we must remain, whether we will or no. Our
+land, our nation, our only banner, is the religion of our ancestors. And
+you ask me to desert it,--to abandon my people?... Sheer madness!"
+
+Aguirre listened to her in amazement.
+
+"Luna, I don't recognize you.... Luna, Lunita, you are another woman
+altogether.... Do you know what I'm thinking of at this moment? I'm
+thinking of your mother, whom I did not know."
+
+He recalled those nights of cruel uncertainty, when Luna's mother tore
+her jet-black hair before the bed in which her child lay gasping; how
+she tried to deceive the demon, the hated _Huerco_, who came to rob her
+of her beloved daughter.
+
+"Ah! I, too, Luna, feel the simple faith of your mother,--her innocent
+credulity. Love and despair simplify our souls and remove from them the
+proud tinsel with which we clothe them in moments of happiness and
+pride; love and despair render us by their mystery, timid and
+respectful, like the simplest of creatures. I feel what your poor mother
+felt during those nights. I shudder at the presence of the _Huerco_ in
+our midst. Perhaps it's that old fellow with the goat's whiskers who is
+at the head of your people here; all of you are a materialistic sort,
+without imagination, incapable of knowing true love; it seems impossible
+that you can be one of them.... You, Luna! You! Don't laugh at what I
+say. But I feel a strong desire to kneel down here before you, to
+stretch out upon the ground and cry: '_Huerco_, what do you wish? Have
+you come to carry off my Luna?... Luna is not here. She has gone
+forever. This woman here is my beloved, my wife. She has no name yet,
+but I'll give her one.' And to seize you in my arms, as your mother did,
+to defend you against the black demon, and then to see you saved, and
+mine forever; to confirm your new name with my caresses, and to call
+you... my Only One, yes, my Only One. Do you like the name?... Let our
+lives be lived together, with the whole world as our home."
+
+She shook her head sadly. Very beautiful. One dream more. A few days
+earlier these words would have moved her and would have made her weep.
+But now!... And with cruel insistence she repeated "No, no. My God is
+not your God. My race is not your race. Why should we persist in
+attempting the impossible?..."
+
+When her people had spoken indignantly about the love affair that was
+being bruited all about town; when the spiritual head of her community
+came to her with the ire of an ancient prophet; when accident, or
+perhaps the warning of a fellow Jew, had brought about the return of her
+betrothed, Isaac Nunez, Luna felt awaking within her something that had
+up to that time lain dormant. The dregs of old beliefs, hatreds and
+hopes were stirred in the very depths of her thought, changing her
+affections and imposing new duties. She was a Jewess and would remain
+faithful to her race. She would not go to lose herself in barren
+isolation among strange persons who hated the Jew through inherited
+instinct. Among her own kind she would enjoy the influence of the wife
+that is listened to in all family councils, and when she would become
+old, her children would surround her with a religious veneration. She
+did not feel strong enough to suffer the hatred and suspicion of that
+hostile world into which love was trying to drag her,--a world that had
+presented her people only with tortures and indignities. She wished to
+be loyal to her race, to continue the defensive march that her nation
+was realizing across centuries of persecution.
+
+Soon she was inspired with compassion at the dejection of her former
+sweetheart, and she spoke to him more gently. She could no longer feign
+calmness or indifference. Did he think that she could ever forget him?
+Ah! Those days had been the sweetest in all her existence; the romance
+of her life, the blue flower that all women, even the most ordinary,
+carry within their memories like a breath of poesy.
+
+"Do you imagine that I don't know what my lot is going to be like?...
+You were the unexpected, the sweet disturbance that beautifies life, the
+happiness of love which finds joy in all that surrounds it and never
+gives thought to the morrow. You are a man that stands out from all the
+rest; I know that. I'll many, I'll have many children,--many!--for our
+race is inexhaustible, and at night my husband will talk to me for hour
+after hour about what we earned during the day. You... you are
+different. Perhaps I would have had to suffer, to be on my guard lest
+I'd lose you, but with all that you are happiness, you are illusion."
+
+"Yes, I am all that," said Aguirre "I am all that because I love you....
+Do you realize what you are doing, Luna? It is as if they laid thousands
+and thousands of silver pounds upon the counter before Zabulon, and he
+turned his back upon them, scorning them and preferring the synagogue.
+Do you believe such a thing possible?... Very well, then. Love is a
+fortune. It is like beauty, riches, power; all who are born have a
+chance of acquiring one of these boons, but very few actually attain to
+them. All live and die believing that they have known love, thinking it
+a common thing, because they confuse it with animal satisfaction; but
+love is a privilege, love is a lottery of fate, like wealth, like
+beauty, which only a small minority enjoy.... And when love comes more
+than half way to meet you, Luna, Lunita,--when fate places happiness
+right in your hands, you turn your back upon it and walk off!...
+Consider it well! There is yet time! Today, as I walked along Royal
+Street I saw the ship notices. Tomorrow there's a boat sailing for Port
+Said. Courage! Let us flee!... We'll wait there for a boat to take us to
+Australia."
+
+Luna raised her head proudly. Farewell to her look of compassion!
+Farewell to the melancholy mood in which she had listened to the
+youth!... Her eyes shone with a steely glance; her voice was cruel and
+concise.
+
+"Goodnight!"
+
+And she turned her back upon him, beginning to walk as if taking flight.
+Aguirre hastened after her, soon reaching her side.
+
+"And that's how you leave me!" he exclaimed. "Like this, never to meet
+again... Can a love that was our very life end in such a manner?..."
+
+The hymn had ceased in the evangelical temple; the Catholic bell was
+silent; the military music had died out at the other end of the town. A
+painful silence enveloped the two lovers. To Aguirre it seemed as if the
+world were deserted, as if the light had died forever, and that in the
+midst of the chaos and the eternal darkness he and she were the only
+living creatures.
+
+"At least give me your hand; let me feel it in mine for the last
+time.... Don't you care to?"
+
+She seemed to hesitate, but finally extended her right hand. How
+lifeless it was! How icy!
+
+"Good-bye, Luis," she said curtly, turning her eyes away so as not to
+see him.
+
+She spoke more, however. She felt that impulse of giving consolation
+which animates all women at times of great grief. He must not despair.
+Life held sweet hopes in store for him. He was going to see the world;
+he was still young....
+
+Aguirre spoke from between clenched teeth, to himself, as if he had gone
+mad. Young! As if grief paid attention to ages! A week before he had
+been thirty years old; now he felt as old as the world.
+
+Luna made an effort to release herself, trembling for herself, uncertain
+of her will power.
+
+"Good-bye! Good-bye!"
+
+This time she really departed, and he allowed her to leave, lacking the
+strength with which to follow her.
+
+Aguirre passed a sleepless night, seated at the edge of his bed, gazing
+with stupid fixity at the designs upon the wall-paper. To think that
+this could have happened! And he, no stronger than a mere child, had
+permitted her to leave him forever!... Several times he was surprised to
+catch himself speaking aloud.
+
+"No. No. It cannot be.... It _shall_ not be!"
+
+The light went out, of its own accord, and Aguirre continued to
+soliloquize, without knowing what he was saying. "It shall not be! It
+shall not be!" he murmured emphatically. But passing from rage to
+despair he asked himself what he could do to retain her, to end his
+torture.
+
+Nothing! His misfortune was irreparable. They were going to resume the
+course of their lives, each on a different road; they were going to
+embark on the following day, each to an opposite pole of the earth, and
+each would carry away nothing of the other, save a memory; and this
+memory, under the tooth of time, would become ever smaller, more
+fragile, more delicate. And this was the end of such a great love! This
+was the finale of a passion that had been born to fill an entire
+existence! And the earth did not tremble, and nobody was moved, and the
+world ignored this great sorrow, even as it would ignore the misfortunes
+of a pair of ants. Ah! Misery!...
+
+He would roam about the world carrying his recollections with him, and
+perhaps some day he would come to forget them, for one can live only by
+forgetting; but when his grief should dissolve with the years he would
+be left an empty man, like a smiling automaton, incapable of any
+affections other than material ones. And thus he would go on living
+until he should grow old and die. And she, the beautiful creature, who
+seemed to scatter music and incense at every step,--the incomparable
+one, the only one,--would likewise grow old, far from his side. She
+would be one more Jewish wife, an excellent mother of a family, grown
+stout from domestic life, flabby and shapeless from the productivity of
+her race, with a brood of children about her, preoccupied at all hours
+with the earnings of the family, a full moon, cumbrous, yellow, without
+the slightest resemblance to the springtime star that had illuminated
+the fleeting and best moments of his life. What a jest of fate!...
+Farewell forever, Luna!... No, not Luna. Farewell, Horabuena!
+
+On the next day he took passage on the ship that was leaving for Port
+Said. What was there for him to do in Gibraltar?... It had been for
+three months a paradise, at the side of the woman who beautified his
+existence; now it was an intolerable city, cramped and monotonous; a
+deserted castle; a damp, dark prison. He telegraphed to his uncle,
+informing him of his departure. The vessel would weigh anchor at night,
+after the sunset gun, when it had taken on its supply of coal.
+
+The hotel people brought him news. Khiamull had died at the hospital, in
+the full possession of his mental faculties as is characteristic of
+consumptives, and had spoken of the distant land of the sun, of its
+virgins, dark and slender as bronze statues, crowned with the lotus
+flower. A hemorrhage had put an end to his hopes. All the town was
+talking about his burial. His compatriots, the Hindu shopkeepers, had
+sent a delegation to the governor and made arrangements for the funeral
+rites. They were going to cremate the body on the outskirts of the town,
+on the beach that faced the East. His remains must not rot in impure
+soil. The English governor, deferent toward the creeds of his various
+subjects, presented them with the necessary wood. At night-fall they
+would dig a hollow on the beach, fill it with shavings and faggots; then
+they would put in large logs, and the corpse; on top of this, more wood,
+and after the pyre had ceased to burn for lack of fuel Khiamull's
+religious brethren would gather the ashes and bear them off in a boat to
+scatter them at sea.
+
+Aguirre listened coldly to these details. Happy Khiamull, who was
+departing thus! Fire, plenty of fire! Would that he could burn the town,
+and the near-by lands, and finally the whole world!...
+
+At ten o'clock the transatlantic liner raised anchor. The Spaniard,
+leaning over the rail, saw the black mountain and the huge Rock, its
+base speckled with rows of lights, grow small as if sinking into the
+horizon. Its obscure ridge was silhouetted against the sky like a
+crouching monster toying with a swarm of stars between its paws.
+
+The vessel rounded Europa Point and the lights disappeared. Now the
+cliff was visible from its Eastern face, black, imposing, bare, with no
+other light than that of the lighthouse at its extreme end.
+
+Suddenly a new light arose,--a red line, a perpendicular flame,--at the
+foot of the mountain, as if it came out of the sea. Aguirre guessed what
+it was. Poor Khiamull! The flames were beginning to consume his body
+upon the beach. The bronze-faced men were at this moment gathered about
+the pyre, like priests of a remote civilization, hastening the disposal
+of their companion's remains.
+
+Farewell, Khiamull! He had died with his hope placed in the Orient,--the
+land of love and perfumes, the abode of delights,--without having been
+able to realize his dreams. And here was Aguirre traveling thither with
+an empty heart, a paralyzed soul, wearied and bereft of strength, as if
+he had just emerged from the most terrible of ordeals.
+
+"Farewell, melancholy and gentle Hindu, poor poet who dreamed of light
+and love as you sold your trinkets in that damp hole!..." His remains,
+purified by flame, were going to be lost in the bosom of the great
+mother. Perhaps his delicate, bird-like soul would survive in the
+sea-gulls that fluttered about the cliff; perhaps he would sing in the
+roaring foam of the submarine caverns, as an accompaniment to the vows
+of other lovers who would come there in their turn, on the impulse of
+the deceptive illusion, the sweet lie of love that gives us new strength
+to continue on our way.
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+THE TOAD
+
+
+"I WAS spending the summer at Nazaret," said my friend Orduna, "a little
+fishermen's town near Valencia. The women went to the city to sell the
+fish, the men sailed about in their boats with triangular sails, or
+tugged at their nets on the beach; we summer vacationists spent the day
+sleeping and the night at the doors of our houses, contemplating the
+phosphorescence of the waves or slapping ourselves here and there
+whenever we heard the buzz of a mosquito,--that scourge of our resting
+hours.
+
+"The doctor, a hardy and genial old fellow, would come and sit down
+under the bower before my door, and we'd spend the night together, with
+a jar or a watermelon at our side, speaking of his patients, folks of
+land or sea, credulous, rough and insolent in their manners, given over
+to fishing or to the cultivation of their fields. At times we laughed as
+he recalled the illness of Visanteta, the daughter of _la Soberana_, an
+old fishmonger who justified her nickname of _the Queen_ by her bulk and
+her stature, as well as by the arrogance with which she treated her
+market companions, imposing her will upon them by right of might.... The
+belle of the place was this Visanteta: tiny, malicious, with a clever
+tongue, and no other good looks than that of youthful health; but she
+had a pair of penetrating eyes and a trick of pretending timidity,
+weakness and interest, which simply turned the heads of the village
+youths. Her sweetheart was _Carafosca_, a brave fisherman who was
+capable of sailing on a stick of wood. On the sea he was admired by all
+for his audacity; on land he filled everybody with fear by his provoking
+silence and the facility with which he whipped out his aggressive
+sailor's knife. Ugly, burly and always ready for a fight, like the huge
+creatures that from time to time showed up in the waters of Nazaret
+devouring all the fish, he would walk to church on Sunday afternoons at
+his sweetheart's side, and every time the maiden raised her head to
+speak to him, amidst the simple talk and lisping of a delicate, pampered
+child, _Carafosca_ would cast a challenging look about him with his
+squinting eyes, as if defying all the folk of the fields, the beach and
+the sea to take his Visanteta away from him.
+
+"One day the most astounding news was bruited about Nazaret. The
+daughter of _la Soberana_ had an animal inside of her. Her abdomen was
+swelling; the slow deformation revealed itself through her underskirts
+and her dress; her face lost color, and the fact that she had swooned
+several times, vomiting painfully, upset the entire cabin and caused her
+mother to burst into desperate lamentations and to run in terror for
+help. Many of her neighbors smiled when they heard of this illness. Let
+them tell it to _Carafosca_!... But the incredulous ones ceased their
+malicious talk and their suspicions when they saw how sad and desperate
+_Carafosca_ became at his sweetheart's illness, praying for her recovery
+with all the fervor of a simple soul, even going so far as to enter the
+little village church,--he, who had always been a pagan, a blasphemer of
+God and the saints.
+
+"Yes, it was a strange and horrible sickness. The people, in their
+predisposition to believe in all sorts of extraordinary and rare
+afflictions, were certain that they knew what this was. Visanteta had a
+toad in her stomach. She had drunk from a certain spot of the near-by
+river, and the wicked animal, small and almost unnoticeable, had gone
+down into her stomach, growing fast. The good neighbors, trembling with
+stupefaction, flocked to _la Soberana's_ cabin to examine the girl. All,
+with a certain solemnity, felt the swelling abdomen, seeking in its
+tightened surface the outlines of the hidden creature. Some of them,
+older and more experienced than the rest, laughed with a triumphant
+expression. There it was, right under their hand. They could feel it
+stirring, moving about.... Yes, it was moving! And after grave
+deliberation, they agreed upon remedies to expel the unwelcome guest.
+They gave the girl spoonfuls of rosemary honey, so that the wicked
+creature inside should start to eat it gluttonously, and when he was
+most preoccupied in his joyous meal, whiz!--an inundation of onion juice
+and vinegar that would bring him out at full gallop. At the same time
+they applied to her stomach miraculous plasters, so that the toad, left
+without a moment's rest, should escape in terror; there were rags soaked
+in brandy and saturated with incense; tangles of hemp dipped in the
+calking of the ships; mountain herbs; simple bits of paper with numbers,
+crosses and Solomon's seal upon them, sold by the miracle-worker of the
+city. Visanteta thought that all these remedies that were being thrust
+down her throat would be the death of her. She shuddered with the chills
+of nausea, she writhed in horrible contortions as if she were about to
+expel her very entrails, but the odious toad did not deign to show even
+one of his legs, and _la Soberana_ cried to heaven. Ah, her daughter!...
+Those remedies would never succeed in casting out the wretched animal;
+it was better to let it alone, and not torture the poor girl; rather
+give it a great deal to eat, so that it wouldn't feed upon the strength
+of Visanteta who was glowing paler and weaker every day.
+
+"And as _la Soberana_ was poor, all her friends, moved by the
+compassionate solidarity of the common people, devoted themselves to the
+feeding of Visanteta so that the toad should do her no harm. The
+fisherwomen, upon returning from the square brought her cakes that were
+purchased in city establishments, that only the upper class patronized;
+on the beach, when the catch was sorted, they laid aside for her a
+dainty morsel that would serve for a succulent soup; the neighbors, who
+happened to be cooking in their pots over the fire would take out a
+cupful of the best of the broth, carrying it slowly so that it shouldn't
+spill, and bring it to _la Soberana's_ cabin; cups of chocolate arrived
+one after the other every afternoon.
+
+"Visanteta rebelled against this excessive kindness. She couldn't
+swallow another drop! She was full! But her mother stuck out her hairy
+nose with an imperious expression. 'I tell you to eat!' She must
+remember what she had inside of her.... And she began to feel a faint,
+indefinable affection for that mysterious creature, lodged in the
+entrails of her daughter. She pictured it to herself; she could see it;
+it was her pride. Thanks to it, the whole town had its eyes upon the
+cabin and the trail of visitors was unending, and _la Soberana_ never
+passed a woman on her way without being stopped and asked for news.
+
+"Only once had they summoned the doctor, seeing him pass by the door;
+but not that they really wished him, or had any faith in him. What could
+that helpless man do against such a tenacious animal!... And upon
+hearing that, not content with the explanations of the mother and the
+daughter and his own audacious tapping around her clothes, he
+recommended an internal examination, the proud mother almost showed him
+the door. The impudent wretch! Not in a hurry was he going to have the
+pleasure of seeing her daughter so intimately! The poor thing, so good
+and so modest, who blushed merely at the thought of such proposals!...
+
+"On Sunday afternoons Visanteta went to church, figuring at the head of
+the daughters of Mary. Her voluminous abdomen was eyed with admiration
+by the girls. They all asked breathlessly after the toad, and Visanteta
+replied wearily. It didn't bother her so much now. It had grown very
+much because she ate so well; sometimes it moved about, but it didn't
+hurt as it used to. One after the other the maidens would place their
+hands upon the afflicted one and feel the movements of the invisible
+creature, admiring as they did so the superiority of their friend. The
+curate, a blessed chap of pious simplicity, pretended not to notice the
+feminine curiosity, and thought with awe of the things done by God to
+put His creatures to the test. Afterwards, when the afternoon drew to a
+close, and the choir sang in gentle voice the praises of Our Lady of the
+Sea, each of the virgins would fall to thinking of that mysterious
+beast, praying fervently that poor Visanteta be delivered of it as soon
+as possible.
+
+"_Carafosca_, too, enjoyed a certain notoriety because of his
+sweetheart's affliction. The women accosted him, the old fishermen
+stopped him to inquire about the animal that was torturing his girl.
+'The poor thing! The poor thing!' he would groan, in accents of amorous
+commiseration. He said no more; but his eyes revealed a vehement desire
+to take over as soon as possible Visanteta and her toad, since the
+latter inspired a certain affection in him because of its connection
+with her.
+
+"One night, when the doctor was at my door, a woman came in search of
+him, panting with dramatic horror. _La Soberana's_ daughter was very
+sick; he must run to her rescue. The doctor shrugged his shoulders 'Ah,
+yes! The toad!' And he didn't seem at all anxious to stir. Then came
+another woman, more agitated than the first. Poor Visanteta! She was
+dying! Her shrieks could be heard all over the street. The wicked beast
+was devouring her entrails....
+
+"I followed the doctor, attracted by the curiosity that had the whole
+town in a commotion. When we came to _la Soberana's_ cabin we had to
+force our way through a compact group of women who obstructed the
+doorway, crowding into the house. A rending shriek, a rasping wail came
+from the innermost part of the dwelling, rising above the heads of the
+curious or terrified women. The hoarse voice of _la Soberana_ answered
+with entreating accents. Her daughter! Ah, Lord, her poor daughter!...
+
+"The arrival of the physician was received by a chorus of demands on the
+part of the old women. Poor Visanteta was writhing furiously, unable to
+bear such pain; her eyes bulged from their sockets and her features were
+distorted. She must be operated upon; her entrails must be opened and
+the green, slippery demon that was eating her alive must be expelled.
+
+"The doctor proceeded upon his task, without paying any attention to the
+advice showered upon him, and before I could reach his side his voice
+resounded through the sudden silence, with ill-humored brusqueness:
+
+"'But good Lord, the only trouble with this girl is that she's going
+to...!'
+
+"Before he could finish, all could guess from the harshness of his voice
+what he was about to say. The group of women yielded before _la
+Soberana's_ thrusts even as the waves of the sea under the belly of a
+whale. She stuck out her big hands and her threatening nails, mumbling
+insults and looking at the doctor with murder in her eyes. Bandit!
+Drunkard! Out of her house!...It was the people's fault, for supporting
+such an infidel. She'd eat him up! Let them make way for her!... And she
+struggled violently with her friends, fighting to free herself and
+scratch out the doctor's eyes. To her vindictive cries were joined the
+weak bleating of Visanteta, protesting with the breath that was left her
+between her groans of pain. It was a lie! Let that wicked man be gone!
+What a nasty mouth he had! It was all a lie!...
+
+"But the doctor went hither and thither, asking for water, for bandages,
+snappy and imperious in his commands, paying no attention whatsoever to
+the threats of the mother or the cries of the daughter, which were
+becoming louder and more heart-rending than ever. Suddenly she roared as
+if she were being slaughtered, and there was a bustle of curiosity
+around the physician, whom I couldn't see. 'It's a lie! A lie!
+Evil-tongued wretch! Slanderer!'... But the protestations of Visanteta
+were no longer unaccompanied. To her voice of an innocent victim begging
+justice from heaven was added the cry of a pair of lungs that were
+breathing the air for the first time.
+
+"And now the friends of _la Soberana_ had to restrain her from falling
+upon her daughter. She would kill her! The bitch! Whose child was
+that?... And terrified by the threats of her mother, the sick woman, who
+was still sobbing 'It's a lie! A lie!' at last spoke. It was a young
+fellow of the _huerta_ whom she had never seen again... an indiscretion
+committed one evening... she no longer remembered. No, she could not
+remember!... And she insisted upon this forgetfulness as if it were an
+incontrovertible excuse.
+
+"The people now saw through it all. The women were impatient to spread
+the news. As we left, _la Soberana_, humiliated and in tears, tried to
+kneel before the doctor and kiss his hand. 'Ay, Don Antoni!... Don
+Antoni!' She asked pardon for her insults; she despaired when she
+thought of the village comments. What they would have to suffer now!...
+On the following day the youths that sang as they arranged their nets
+would invent new verses. The song of the toad! Her life would become
+impossible!... But even more than this, the thought of _Carafosca_
+terrified her. She knew very well what sort of brute that was. He would
+kill poor Visanteta the first time she appeared on the street; and she
+herself would meet the same fate for being her mother and not having
+guarded her well. 'Ay, Don Antoni!' She begged him, upon her knees, to
+see _Carafosca_. He, who was so good and who knew so much, could
+convince the fellow with his reasoning, and make him swear that he would
+not do the women any harm,--that he would forget them.
+
+"The doctor received these entreaties with the same indifference as he
+had received the threats, and he answered sharply. He would see about
+it; it was a delicate affair. But once in the street, he shrugged his
+shoulders with resignation. 'Let's go and see that animal.'
+
+"We pulled him out of the tavern and the three of us began to walk along
+the beach through the darkness. The fisherman seemed to be awed at
+finding himself between two persons of such importance. Don Antonio
+spoke to him of the indisputable superiority of men ever since the
+earliest days of creation; of the scorn with which women should be
+regarded because of their lack of seriousness; of their immense number
+and the ease with which we could pick another if the one we had happened
+to displease us... and at last, with brutal directness, told what had
+happened.
+
+"_Carafosca_ hesitated, as if he had not understood the doctor's words
+very well. Little by little the certainty dawned upon his dense
+comprehension. 'By God! By God!' And he scratched himself fearfully
+under his cap, and brought his hands to his sash as if he were seeking
+his redoubtable knife.
+
+"The physician tried to console him. He must forget Visanteta; there
+would be no sense or advantage in killing her. It wasn't worth while for
+a splendid chap like him to go to prison for slaying a worthless
+creature like her. The real culprit was that unknown laborer; but... and
+she! And how easily she... committed the indiscretion, not being able to
+recall anything afterwards!...
+
+"For a long time we walked along in painful silence, with no other
+novelty than _Carafosca's_ scratching of his head and his sash. Suddenly
+he surprised us with the roar of his voice, speaking to us in Castilian,
+thus adding solemnity to what he said:
+
+"'Do you want me to tell you something?... Do you want me to tell you
+something?'
+
+"He looked at us with hostile eyes, as if he saw before him the unknown
+culprit of the _huerta_, ready to pounce upon him. It could be seen that
+his sluggish brain had just adopted a very firm resolution.... What was
+it? Let him speak.
+
+"'Well, then,' he articulated slowly, as if we were enemies whom he
+desired to confound, 'I tell you... that now I love the girl more than
+ever.'
+
+"In our stupefaction, at a loss for reply, we shook hands with him."
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+COMPASSION
+
+
+AT TEN o'clock in the evening Count de Sagreda walked into his club on
+the Boulevard des Capucins. There was a bustle among the servants to
+relieve him of his cane, his highly polished hat and his costly fur
+coat, which, as it left his shoulders revealed a shirt-bosom of
+immaculate neatness, a gardenia in his lapel, and all the attire of
+black and white, dignified yet brilliant, that belongs to a gentleman
+who has just dined.
+
+The story of his ruin was known by every member of the club. His
+fortune, which fifteen years before had caused a certain commotion in
+Paris, having been ostentatiously cast to the four winds, was exhausted.
+The count was now living on the remains of his opulence, like those
+shipwrecked seamen who live upon the debris of the vessel, postponing in
+anguish the arrival of the last hour. The very servants who danced
+attendance upon him like slaves in dress suits, knew of his misfortune
+and discussed his shameful plight; but not even the slightest suggestion
+of insolence disturbed the colorless glance of their eyes, petrified by
+servitude. He was such a nobleman! He had scattered his money with such
+majesty!... Besides, he was a genuine member of the nobility, a nobility
+that dated back for centuries and whose musty odor inspired a certain
+ceremonious gravity in many of the citizens whose fore-bears had helped
+bring about the Revolution. He was not one of those Polish counts who
+permit themselves to be entertained by women, nor an Italian marquis who
+winds up by cheating at cards, nor a Russian personage of consequence
+who often draws his pay from the police; he was genuine _hidalgo_, a
+grandee of Spain. Perhaps one of his ancestors figured in the _Cid_, in
+_Ruy Blas_ or some other of the heroic pieces in the repertory of the
+Comedie Francaise.
+
+The count entered the salons of the club with head erect and a proud
+gait, greeting his friends with a barely discernible smile, a mixture of
+hauteur and light-heartedness.
+
+He was approaching his fortieth year, but he was still the _beau_
+Sagreda, as he had long been nicknamed by the noctambulous women of
+Maxim's and the early-rising Amazons of the Bois. A few gray hairs at
+his temples and a triangle of faint wrinkles at the corner of his brows,
+betrayed the effects of an existence that had been lived at too rapid a
+pace, with the vital machinery running at full speed. But his eyes were
+still youthful, intense and melancholy; eyes that caused him to be
+called "the Moor" by his men and women friends. The Viscount de la
+Tresminiere, crowned by the Academy as the author of a study on one of
+his ancestors who had been a companion of Conde, and highly appreciated
+by the antique dealers on the left bank of the Seine, who sold him all
+the bad canvases they had in store, called him _Velazquez_, satisfied
+that the swarthy, somewhat olive complexion of the count, his black,
+heavy mustache and his grave eyes, gave him the right to display his
+thorough acquaintance with Spanish art.
+
+All the members of the club spoke of Sagreda's ruin with discreet
+compassion. The poor count! Not to fall heir to some new legacy. Not to
+meet some American millionairess who would be smitten with him and his
+titles!... They must do something to save him.
+
+And he walked amid this mute and smiling pity without being at all aware
+of it, encased in his pride, receiving as admiration that which was
+really compassionate sympathy, forced to have recourse to painful
+simulations in order to surround himself with as much luxury as before,
+thinking that he was deceiving others and deceiving only himself.
+
+Sagreda cherished no illusions as to the future. All the relatives that
+might come to his rescue with a timely legacy had done so many years
+before, upon making their exit from the world's stage. None that might
+recall his name was left beyond the mountains. In Spain he had only some
+distant relatives, personages of the nobility united to him more by
+historic bonds than by ties of blood. They addressed him familiarly, but
+he could expect from them no help other than good advice and admonitions
+against his wild extravagance.... It was all over. Fifteen years of
+dazzling display had consumed the supply of wealth with which Sagreda
+one day arrived in Paris. The granges of Andalusia, with their droves of
+cattle and horses, had changed hands without ever having made the
+acquaintance of this owner, devoted to luxury and always absent. After
+them, the vast wheat fields of Castilla and the ricefields of Valencia,
+and the villages of the northern provinces, had gone into strange
+hands,--all the princely possessions of the ancient counts of Sagreda,
+plus the inheritances from various pious spinster aunts, and the
+considerable legacies of other relatives who had died of old age in
+their ancient country houses.
+
+Paris and the elegant summer seasons had in a few years devoured this
+fortune of centuries. The recollection of a few noisy love affairs with
+two actresses in vogue; the nostalgic smile of a dozen costly women of
+the world; the forgotten fame of several duels; a certain prestige as a
+rash, calm gambler, and a reputation as a knightly swordsman,
+intransigent in matters of honor, were all that remained to the _beau_
+Sagreda after his downfall.
+
+He lived upon his past, contracting new debts with certain providers
+who, recalling other financial crises, trusted to a re-establishment of
+his fortune. "His fate was settled," according to the count's own words.
+When he could do no more, he would resort to a final course. Kill
+himself?... never. Men like him committed suicide only because of
+gambling debts or debts of honor. Ancestors of his, noble and glorious,
+had owed huge sums to persons who were not their equals, without for a
+moment considering suicide on this account. When the creditors should
+shut their doors to him, and the money-lenders should threaten him with
+a public court scandal, Count de Sagreda, making a heroic effort, would
+wrench himself away from the sweet Parisian life. His ancestors had been
+soldiers and colonizers. He would join the foreign legion of Algeria, or
+would take passage for that America which had been conquered by his
+forefathers, becoming a mounted shepherd in the solitudes of Southern
+Chile or upon the boundless plains of Patagonia.
+
+Until the dreaded moment should arrive, this hazardous, cruel existence
+that forced him to live a continuous lie, was the best period of his
+career. From his last trip to Spain, made for the purpose of liquidating
+certain remnants of his patrimony, he had returned with a woman, a
+maiden of the provinces who had been captivated by the prestige of the
+nobleman; in her affection, ardent and submissive at the same time,
+there was almost as much admiration as love. A woman!... Sagreda for the
+first time realized the full significance of this word, as if up to then
+he had not understood it. His present companion was a woman; the
+nervous, dissatisfied females who had filled his previous existence,
+with their painted smiles and voluptuous artifices, belonged to another
+species.
+
+And now that the real woman had arrived, his money was departing
+forever!... And when misfortune appeared, love came with it!... Sagreda,
+lamenting his lost fortune struggled hard to maintain his pompous
+outward show. He lived as before, in the same house, without retrenching
+his budget, making his companion presents of value equal to those that
+he had lavished upon his former women friends, enjoying an almost
+paternal satisfaction before the childish surprise and the ingenuous
+happiness of the poor girl, who was overwhelmed by the brilliant life of
+Paris.
+
+Sagreda was drowning,--drowning!--but with a smile on his lips, content
+with himself, with his present life, with this sweet dream, which was to
+be the final one and which was lasting miraculously long. Fate, which
+had maltreated him in the past few years, consuming the remainders of
+his wealth at Monte Carlo, at Ostend and in the notable clubs of the
+Boulevard, seemed now to stretch out a helping hand, touched by his new
+existence. Every night, after dining with his companion at a fashionable
+restaurant, he would leave her at the theatre and go to his club, the
+only place where luck awaited him. He did not plunge heavily. Simple
+games of ecarte with intimate friends, chums of his youth, who continued
+their happy career with the aid of great fortunes, or who had settled
+down after marrying wealth, retaining among their farmer habits the
+custom of visiting the honorable circle.
+
+Scarcely did the count take his seat, with his cards in his hand,
+opposite one of these friends, when Fortune seemed to hover over his
+head, and his friends did not tire of playing, inviting him to a game
+every night, as if they stood in line awaiting their turn. His winnings
+were hardly enough to grow wealthy upon; some nights ten _louis_; others
+twenty-five; on special occasions Sagreda would retire with as many as
+forty gold coins in his pocket. But thanks to this almost daily gain he
+was able to fill the gaps of his lordly existence, which threatened to
+topple down upon his head, and he maintained his lady companion in
+surroundings of loving comfort, at the same time recovering confidence
+in his immediate future. Who could tell what was in store for him?...
+
+Noticing Viscount de la Tresminiere in one of the salons he smiled at
+him with an expression of friendly challenge.
+
+"What do you say to a game?"
+
+"As you wish, my dear _Velazquez_."
+
+"Seven francs per five points will be sufficient. I'm sure to win. Luck
+is with me."
+
+The game commenced under the soft light of the electric bulbs, amid the
+soothing silence of soft carpets and thick curtains.
+
+Sagreda kept winning, as if his kind fate was pleased to extricate him
+from the most difficult passes. He won without half trying. It made no
+difference that he lacked trumps and that he held bad cards; those of
+his rival were always worse, and the result would be miraculously in
+harmony with his previous games.
+
+Already, twenty-five golden _louis_ lay before him. A club companion,
+who was wandering from one salon to the other with a bored expression,
+stopped near the players interested in the game. At first he remained
+standing near Sagreda; then he took up his position behind the viscount,
+who seemed to be rendered nervous and perturbed at the fellow's
+proximity.
+
+"But that's awful silly of you!" the inquisitive newcomer soon
+exclaimed. "You're not playing a good game, my dear viscount. You're
+laying aside your trumps and using only your bad cards. How stupid of
+you!"
+
+He could say no more. Sagreda threw his cards upon the table. He had
+grown terribly white, with a greenish pallor. His eyes, opened
+extraordinarily wide, stared at the viscount. Then he rose.
+
+"I understand," he said coldly. "Allow me to withdraw."
+
+Then, with a quivering hand, he thrust the heap of gold coins toward his
+friend.
+
+"This belongs to you."
+
+"But, my dear _Velazquez_.... Why, Sagreda!... Permit me to explain,
+dear count!..."
+
+"Enough, sir. I repeat that I understand."
+
+His eyes flashed with a strange gleam, the selfsame gleam that his
+friends had seen upon various occasions, when after a brief dispute or
+an insulting word, he raised his glove in a gesture of challenge.
+
+But this hostile glance lasted only a moment. Then he smiled with
+glacial affability.
+
+"Many thanks, Viscount. These are favors that are never forgotten.... I
+repeat my gratitude."
+
+And he saluted, like a true noble, walking off proudly erect, the same
+as in the most smiling days of his opulence.
+
+  * * *
+
+With his fur coat open, displaying his immaculate shirt bosom, Count de
+Sagreda promenades along the boulevard. The crowds are issuing from the
+theatres; the women are crossing from one sidewalk to the other;
+automobiles with lighted interiors roll by, affording a momentary
+glimpse of plumes, jewels and white bosoms; the news-vendors shout their
+wares; at the top of the buildings huge electrical advertisements blaze
+forth and go out in rapid succession.
+
+The Spanish grandee, the _hidalgo_, the descendant of the noble knights
+of the _Cid_ and _Ruy Blas_, walks against the current, elbowing his way
+through the crowd, desiring to hasten as fast as possible, without any
+particular objective in view.
+
+To contract debts!... Very well. Debts do not dishonor a nobleman. But
+to receive alms?... In his hours of blackest thoughts he had never
+trembled before the idea of incurring scorn through his ruin, of seeing
+his friends desert him, of descending to the lowest depths, being lost
+in the social substratum. But to arouse compassion....
+
+The comedy was useless. The intimate friends who smiled at him in former
+times had penetrated the secret of his poverty and had been moved by
+pity to get together and take turns at giving him alms under the pretext
+of gambling with him. And likewise his other friends, and even the
+servants who bowed to him with their accustomed respect as he passed by,
+were in the secret. And he, the poor dupe, was going about with his
+lordly airs, stiff and solemn in his extinct grandeur, like the corpse
+of the lengendary chieftain, which, after his death, was mounted on
+horseback and sallied forth to win battles.
+
+Farewell, Count de Sagreda! The heir of governors and viceroys can
+become a nameless soldier in a legion of desperadoes and bandits; he can
+begin life anew as an adventurer in virgin lands, killing that he may
+live; he can even watch with impassive countenance the wreck of his name
+and his family history, before the bench of a tribunal.... But to live
+upon the compassion of his friends!...
+
+Farewell forever, final illusions! The count has forgotten his
+companion, who is waiting for him at a night restaurant. He does not
+think of her; it is as if he never had seen her; as if she had never
+existed. He thinks not at all of that which but a few hours before had
+made life worth living. He walks along, alone with his disgrace, and
+each step of his seems to draw from the earth a dead thing; an ancestral
+influence, a racial prejudice, a family boast, dormant hauteur, honor
+and fierce pride, and as these awake, they oppress his breast and cloud
+his thoughts.
+
+How they must have laughed at him behind his back, with condescending
+pity!... Now he walks along more hurriedly than ever, as if he has at
+last made up his mind just where he is going, and his emotion leads him
+unconsciously to murmur with irony, as if he is speaking to somebody who
+is at his heels and whom he desires to flee.
+
+"Many thanks! Many thanks!"
+
+Just before dawn two revolver shots astound the guests of a hotel in the
+vicinity of the _Gare Saint-Lazare_,--one of those ambiguous
+establishments that offers a safe shelter for amorous acquaintances
+begun on the thoroughfare.
+
+The attendants find in one of the rooms a gentleman dressed in evening
+clothes, with a hole in his head, through which escape bloody strips of
+flesh. The man writhes like a worm upon the threadbare carpet.
+
+His eyes, of a dull black, still glitter with life. There is nothing
+left in them of the image of his sweet companion. His last thought,
+interrupted by death, is of friendship, terrible in its pity; of the
+fraternal insult of a generous, light-hearted compassion.
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+LUXURY
+
+
+"I HAD her on my lap," said my friend Martinez, "and the warm weight of
+her healthy body was beginning to tire me.
+
+"The scene... same as usual in such places. Mirrors with blemished
+surfaces, and names scratched across them, like spiders' webs; sofas of
+discolored velvet, with springs that creaked atrociously; the bed
+decorated with theatrical hangings, as clean and common as a sidewalk,
+and on the walls, pictures of bull-fighters and cheap chromos of angelic
+virgins smelling a rose or languorously contemplating a bold hunter.
+
+"The scenery was that of the favorite cell in the convent of vice; an
+elegant room reserved for distinguished patrons; and she was a healthy,
+robust creature, who seemed to bring a whiff of the pure mountain air
+into the heavy atmosphere of this closed house, saturated with cheap
+cologne, rice powder and the vapor from dirty washbasins.
+
+"As she spoke to me she stroked the ribbons of her gown with childish
+complacency; it was a fine piece of satin, of screaming yellow, somewhat
+too tight for her body, a dress which I recalled having seen months
+before on the delicate charms of another girl, who had since died,
+according to reports, in the hospital.
+
+"Poor girl! She had become a sight! Her coarse, abundant hair, combed in
+Greek fashion, was adorned with glass beads; her cheeks, shiny from the
+dew of perspiration, were covered with a thick layer of cosmetic; and as
+if to reveal her origin, her arms, which were firm, swarthy and of
+masculine proportions, escaped from the ample sleeves of her chorus-girl
+costume.
+
+"As she saw me follow with attentive glance all the details of her
+extravagant array, she thought that I was admiring her, and threw her
+head back with a petulant expression.
+
+"And such a simple creature!... She hadn't yet become acquainted with
+the customs of the house, and told the truth,--all the truth--to the men
+who wished to know her history. They called her Flora; but her real name
+was Mari-Pepa. She wasn't the orphan of a colonel or a magistrate, nor
+did she concoct the complicated tales of love and adventure that her
+companions did, in order to justify their presence in such a place. The
+truth; always the truth; she would yet be hanged for her frankness. Her
+parents were comfortably situated farmers in a little town of Aragon;
+owned their fields, had two mules in the barn, bread, wine, and enough
+potatoes for the year round; and at night the best fellows in the place
+came one after the other to soften her heart with serenade upon
+serenade, trying to carry off her dark, healthy person together with the
+four orchards she had inherited from her grandfather.
+
+"'But what could you expect, my dear fellow?... I couldn't bear those
+people. They were too coarse for me. I was born to be a lady. And tell
+me, why can't I be? Don't I look as good as any of them?...'
+
+"And she snuggled her head against my shoulder, like the docile
+sweetheart she was,--a slave subjected to all sorts of caprices in
+exchange for being clothed handsomely.
+
+"' Those fellows,' she continued, 'made me sick. I ran off with the
+student,--understand?--the son of the town magistrate, and we wandered
+about until he deserted me, and I landed here, waiting for something
+better to turn up. You see, it's a short tale.... I don't complain of
+anything. I'm satisfied.'
+
+"And to show how happy she was, the unhappy girl rode astride my legs,
+thrust her hard fingers through my hair, rumpling it, and sang a tango
+in horrible fashion, in her strong, peasant voice.
+
+"I confess that I was seized with an impulse to speak to her 'in the
+name of morality,'--that hypocritical desire we all possess to propagate
+virtue when we are sated and desire is dead.
+
+"She raised her eyes, astonished to see me look so solemn, preaching to
+her, like a missionary glorifying chastity with a prostitute on his
+knees; her gaze wandered continually from my austere countenance to the
+bed close by. Her common sense was baffled before the incongruity
+between such virtue and the excesses of a moment before.
+
+"Suddenly she seemed to understand, and an outburst of laughter swelled
+her fleshy neck.
+
+"'The deuce!... How amusing you are! And with what a face you say all
+these things! Just like the priest of my home town....'
+
+"No, Pepa, I'm serious. I believe you're a good girl; you don't realize
+what you've gone into, and I'm warning you. You've fallen very low, very
+low. You're at the bottom. Even within the career of vice, the majority
+of women resist and deny the caresses that are required of you in this
+house. There is yet time for you to save yourself. Your parents have
+enough for you to live on; you didn't come here under the necessity of
+poverty. Return to your home, and the past will be forgotten; you can
+tell them a lie, invent some sort of tale to justify your flight, and
+who knows?... One of the fellows that used to serenade you will marry
+you, you'll have children and you'll be a respectable woman.
+
+"The girl became serious when she saw that I was speaking in earnest.
+Little by little she began to slip from my knees until she was on her
+feet, eyeing me fixedly, as if she saw before her some strange person
+and an invisible wall had arisen between the two.
+
+"'Go back to my home!' she exclaimed in harsh accents. 'Many thanks. I
+know very well what that means. Get up before dawn, work like a slave,
+go out in the fields, ruin your hands with callouses. Look, see how my
+hands still show them.'
+
+"And she made me feel the rough lumps that rose on the palms of her
+strong hands.
+
+"'And all this, in exchange for what? For being respectable?... Not a
+bit of it! I'm not that crazy. So much for respectability!'
+
+"And she accompanied these words with some indecent motions that she had
+picked up from her companions.
+
+"Afterwards, humming a tune, she went over to the mirror to survey
+herself, and smilingly greeted the reflection of her powdered hair,
+covered with false pearls, which shone out of the cracked mirror. She
+contracted her lips, which were rouged like those of a clown.
+
+"Growing more and more firm in my virtuous role, I continued to
+sermonize her from my chair, enveloping this hypocritical propaganda in
+sonorous words. She was making a bad choice; she must think of the
+future. The present could not be worse. What was she? Less than a slave;
+a piece of furniture; they exploited her, they robbed her, and
+afterwards... afterwards it would be still worse; the hospital,
+repulsive diseases....
+
+"But again her harsh laughter interrupted me.
+
+"'Quit it, boy. Don't bother me.'
+
+"And planting herself before me she wrapped me in a gaze of infinite
+compassion.
+
+"'Why my dear fellow, how silly you are! Do you imagine that I can go
+back to that dog's life, after having tasted this one?... No, sir! I was
+born for luxury.'
+
+"And, with devoted admiration sweeping her glance across the broken
+chairs, the faded sofa, and that bed which was a public thoroughfare,
+she began to walk up and down, revelling in the rustle of her train as
+it dragged across the room, and caressing the folds of that gown which
+seemed still to preserve the warmth of the other girl's body."
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+RABIES
+
+
+FROM all the countryside the neighbors of the _huerta_ flocked to
+_Caldera's_ cabin, entering it with a certain meekness, a mingling of
+emotion and fear.
+
+How was the boy? Was he improving?... Uncle Pascal, surrounded by his
+wife, his daughters-in-law and even the most distant relatives, who had
+been gathered together by misfortune, received with melancholy
+satisfaction this interest of the entire vicinity in the health of his
+son. Yes, he was getting better. For two days he had not been attacked
+by that horrible _thing_ which set the cabin in commotion. And
+_Caldera's_ laconic farmer friends, as well as the women, who were
+vociferous in the expression of their emotions, appeared at the
+threshold of the room, asking timidly, "How do you feel?"
+
+The only son of _Caldera_ was in there, sometimes in bed, in obedience
+to his mother, who could conceive of no illness without the cup of hot
+water and seclusion between the bed-sheets; at other times he sat up,
+his jaws supported by his hands, gazing obstinately into the furthermost
+corner of the room. His father, wrinkling his shaggy white brows, would
+walk about when left alone, or, through force of habit, take a look at
+the neighboring fields, but without any desire to bend over and pluck
+out any of the weeds that were beginning to sprout in the furrows. Much
+this land mattered to him now,--the earth in whose bowels he had left
+the sweat of his body and the strength of his limbs!... His son was all
+he had,--the fruit of a late marriage,--and he was a sturdy youth, as
+industrious and taciturn as his father; a soldier of the soil, who
+required neither orders nor threat to fulfil his duties; ready to awake
+at midnight when it was his turn to irrigate his land and give the
+fields drink under the light of the stars; quick to spring from his bed
+on the hard kitchen bench, throwing off the covers and putting on his
+hemp sandals at the sound of the early rooster's reveille.
+
+Uncle Pascal had never smiled. He was the Latin type of father; the
+fearful master of the house, who, on returning from his labors, ate
+alone, served by his wife, who stood by with an expression of
+submission. But this grave, harsh mask of an omnipotent master concealed
+a boundless admiration for his son, who was his best work. How quickly
+he loaded a cart! How he perspired as he managed the hoe with a vigorous
+forward and backward motion that seemed to cleave him at the waist! Who
+could ride a pony like him, gracefully jumping on to his back by simply
+resting the toe of a sandal upon the hind legs of the animal?... He
+didn't touch wine, never got mixed up in a brawl, nor was he afraid of
+work. Through good luck he had pulled a high number in the military
+draft, and when the feast of San Juan came around he intended to marry a
+girl from a near-by farm,--a maiden that would bring with her a few
+pieces of earth when she came to the cabin of her new parents.
+Happiness; an honorable and peaceful continuation of the family
+traditions; another _Caldera_, who, when Uncle Pascal grew old, would
+continue to work the lands that had been fructified by his ancestors,
+while a troop of little _Calderitas_, increasing in number each year,
+would play around the nag harnessed to the plow, eyeing with a certain
+awe their grandpa, his eyes watery from age and his words very concise,
+as he sat in the sun at the cabin door.
+
+Christ! And how man's illusions vanish!... One Saturday, as Pascualet
+was coming home from his sweetheart's house, along one of the paths of
+the _huerta_, about midnight, a dog had bitten him; a wretched, silent
+animal that jumped out from behind a sluice; as the young man crouched
+to throw a stone at it, the dog bit into his shoulder. His mother, who
+used to wait for him on the nights when he went courting, burst into
+wailing when she saw the livid semicircle, with its red stain left by
+the dog's teeth, and she bustled about the hut preparing poultices and
+drinks.
+
+The youth laughed at his mother's fears.
+
+"Quiet, mother, quiet!" It wasn't the first time that a dog had bitten
+him. His body still showed faint signs of bites that he had received in
+childhood, when he used to go through the _huerta_ throwing stones at
+the dogs. Old _Caldera_ spoke to him from bed, without displaying any
+emotion. On the following day he was to go to the veterinary and have
+his flesh cauterized by a burning iron. So he ordered, and there was
+nothing further to be said about the matter. The young man submitted
+without flinching to the operation, like a good, brave chap of the
+Valencian _huerta_. He had four days' rest in all, and even at that, his
+fondness for work caused him new sufferings and he aided his father with
+pain-tortured arm. Saturdays, when he came to his sweetheart's
+farmhouse, she always asked after his health. "How's the bite getting
+along?" He would shrug his shoulders gleefully before the eyes of the
+maiden and the two would finally sit down in a corner of the kitchen,
+remaining in mute contemplation of each other, or speaking of the
+clothes and the bed for their future home, without daring to come close
+to each other; there they sat erect and solemn, leaving between their
+bodies a space "wide enough for a sickle to pass through," as the girl's
+father smilingly put it.
+
+More than a month passed by. _Caldera's_ wife was the only one that did
+not forget the accident. She followed her son about with anxious
+glances. Ah, sovereign queen! The _huerta_ seemed to have been abandoned
+by God and His holy mother. Over at Templat's cabin a child was
+suffering the agonies of hell through having been bitten by a mad dog.
+All the _huerta_ folk were running in terror to have a look at the poor
+creature; a spectacle that she herself did not dare to gaze upon because
+she was thinking of her own son. If her Pascualet, as tall and sturdy as
+a tower, were to meet with the same fate as that unfortunate child!...
+
+One day, at dawn, _Caldera's_ son was unable to arise from his kitchen
+bench, and his mother helped him walk to the large nuptial bed, which
+occupied a part of the _estudi_, the best room in the cabin. He was
+feverish, and complained of acute pain in the spot where he had been
+bitten; an awful chill ran through his whole body, making his teeth
+chatter and veiling his eyes with a yellowish opacity. Don Jose, the
+oldest doctor in the _huerta_, came on his ancient mare, with his
+eternal recipe of purgatives for every class of illness, and bandages
+soaked in salt water for wounds. Upon examining the sick man he made a
+wry face. Bad! Bad! This was a more serious matter; they would have to
+go to the solemn doctors in Valencia, who knew more than he. _Caldera's_
+wife saw her husband harness the cart and compel Pascualet to get into
+it. The boy, relieved of his pain, smiled assent, saying that now he
+felt nothing more than a slight twinge. When they returned to the cabin
+the father seemed to be more at ease. A doctor from the city had pricked
+Pascualet's sore. He was a very serious gentleman, who gave Pascualet
+courage with his kind words, looking intently at him all the while, and
+expressing regret that he had waited so long before coming to him. For a
+week the two men made a daily trip to Valencia, but one morning the boy
+was unable to move. That crisis which made the poor mother groan with
+fear had returned with greater intensity than before. The boy's teeth
+knocked together, and he uttered a wail that stained the corners of his
+mouth with froth; his eyes seemed to swell, becoming yellow and
+protruding like huge grape seeds; he tried to pull himself together,
+writhing from the internal torture, and his mother hung upon his neck,
+shrieking with terror; meanwhile _Caldera_, grimly silent, seized his
+son's arms with tranquil strength, struggling to prevent his violent
+convulsions.
+
+"My son! My son!" cried the mother. Ah, her son! Scarcely could she
+recognize him as she saw him in this condition. He seemed like another,
+as if only his former exterior had remained,--as if an infernal monster
+had lodged within and was martyrizing this flesh that had come out of
+her own womb, appearing at his eyes with livid flashes.
+
+Afterwards came calm stupor, and all the women of the district gathered
+in the kitchen and deliberated upon the lot of the sick youth, cursing
+the city doctor and his diabolical incisions. It was his fault that the
+boy now lay thus; before the boy had submitted to the cure he had felt
+much better. The bandit! And the government never punished these wicked
+souls!... There were no other remedies than the old, true and tried
+ones,--the product of the experience of people who had lived years ago
+and thus knew much more. One of the neighbors went off to hunt up a
+certain witch, a miraculous doctor for dog-bites, serpent bites and
+scorpion-stings. Another brought a blind old goatherd, who could cure by
+the virtue of his mouth, simply by making some crosses of saliva over
+the ailing flesh. The drinks made of mountain herbs and the moist signs
+of the goatherd were looked upon as tokens of immediate cure, especially
+when they beheld the sick youth lie silent and motionless for several
+hours, looking at the ground with a certain amazement, as if he could
+feel within him the progress of something strange that grew and grew,
+gradually overpowering him. Then, when the crisis reoccurred, the doubt
+of the women began to rise, and new remedies were discussed. The youth's
+sweetheart came, with her large black eyes moistened by tears, and she
+advanced timidly until she came near to the sick boy. For the first time
+she dared to take his hand, blushing beneath her cinammon-colored
+complexion at this audacious act. "How do you feel?"... And he, so
+loving in other days, recoiled from her tender touch, turning his eyes
+away so that he should not see her, as if ashamed of his plight. His
+mother wept. Queen of heaven! He was very low; he was going to die. If
+only they could find out what dog it was that had bitten him, and cut
+out its tongue, using it for a miraculous plaster, as experienced
+persons advised!...
+
+Throughout the _huerta_ it seemed that God's own wrath had burst forth.
+Some dogs had bitten others; now nobody knew which were the dangerous
+ones and which the safe. All mad! The children were secluded in the
+cabins, spying with terrified glances upon the vast fields, through the
+half-open doors; mothers journeyed over the winding paths in close
+groups, uneasy, trembling, hastening their step whenever a bark sounded
+from behind the sluices of the canals; men eyed the domestic dogs with
+fear, intently watching their slavering mouths as they gasped or their
+sad eyes; the agile greyhound, their hunting companion,--the barking
+cur, guardian of the home,--the ugly mastiff who walked along tied to
+the cart, which he watched over during the master's, absence,--all were
+placed under their owners' observation or coldly sacrificed behind the
+walls of the corral, without any display of emotion whatever.
+
+"Here they come! Here they come!" was the shout passed along from cabin
+to cabin, announcing the patter of a pack of dogs, howling, ravenous,
+their bodies covered with mud, running about without finding rest,
+driven on day and night, with the madness of persecution in their eyes.
+The _huerta_ seemed to shudder, closing the doors of all the houses and
+suddenly bristling with guns. Shots rang out from the sluices, from the
+high corn-fields, from cabin windows, and when the wanderers, repelled
+and persecuted on every side, in their mad gallop dashed toward the sea,
+as if they were attracted by the moist, invigorating air that was washed
+by the waves, the revenue-guards camped on the wide strip of beach
+brought their mausers to their cheek and received them with a volley.
+The dogs retreated, escaping among the men who were approaching them
+musket in hand, and one or another of them would be stretched out at the
+edge of a canal. At night, the noisy gloom of the plain was broken by
+the sight of distant flashes and the sound of discharges. Every shape
+that moved in the darkness was the target for a bullet; the muffled
+howls that sounded in the vicinity of the cabins were answered by shots.
+The men were afraid of this common terror, and avoided meeting.
+
+No sooner did night fall than the _huerta_ was left without a light,
+without a person upon the roads, as if death had taken possession of the
+dismal plain, so green and smiling under the sun. A single red spot, a
+tear of light, trembled in this obscurity. It was _Caldera's_ cabin,
+where the women, squatting upon the floor, around the kitchen lamp,
+sighed with fright, anticipating the strident shriek of the sick
+youth,--the chattering of his teeth, the violent contortions of his body
+whenever he was seized with convulsions, struggling to repel the arms
+that tried to quiet him.
+
+The mother hung upon the neck of that raving patient who struck terror
+to men. She scarcely knew him; he was somebody else, with those eyes
+that popped out of their sockets, his livid or blackish countenance, his
+writhings, like that of a tortured animal, showing his tongue as he
+gasped through bubbles of froth in the agonies of an insatiable thirst.
+He begged for death in heart-rending shrieks; he struck his head against
+the wall; he tried to bite; but even so, he was her child and she did
+not feel the fear experienced by the others. His menacing mouth withdrew
+before the wan face that was moistened with tears. "Mother! Mother!" He
+recognized her in his lucid moments. She need not fear him; he would
+never bite her. And as if he must sink his teeth into something or other
+to glut his rage, he bit into his arms until the blood came.
+
+"My son! My son!" moaned the mother and she wiped the deadly froth from
+his lips, afterwards carrying the handkerchief to her eyes, without fear
+of contagion. _Caldera_, in his solemn gravity, paid no heed to the
+sufferer's threatening eyes, which were fixed upon him with an impulse
+of attack. The boy had lost his awe of his father.
+
+That powerful man, however, facing the peril of his son's mouth, thrust
+him back into bed whenever the madman tried to flee, as if he must
+spread everywhere the horrible affliction that was devouring his
+entrails.
+
+No longer were the crises followed by extended intervals of calm. They
+became almost continuous, and the victim writhed about, clawed and
+bleeding from his own bites, his face almost black, his eyes tremulous
+and yellow, looking like some monstrous beast set apart from all the
+human species. The old doctor had stopped asking about the youth. What
+was the use? It was all over. The women wept hopelessly. Death was
+certain. They only bewailed the long hours, perhaps days, of horrible
+torture that poor Pascualet would have to undergo.
+
+_Caldera_ was unable to find among his relatives or friends any men
+brave enough to help him restrain the sufferer in his violent moments.
+They all looked with terror at the door to the _estudi_, as if behind it
+were concealed the greatest of dangers. To go shooting through roads and
+canals was man's work. A stab could be returned; one bullet could answer
+another; but ah! that frothing mouth which killed with a bite!... that
+incurable disease which made men writhe in endless agony, like a lizard
+sliced by a hoe!
+
+He no longer knew his mother. In his final moments of lucidity he had
+thrust her away with loving brusqueness. She must go!... Let him not see
+her again!... He feared to do her harm! The poor woman's friends dragged
+her out of the room, forcing her to remain motionless, like her son, in
+a corner of the kitchen. _Caldera_, with a supreme effort of his dying
+will, tied the agonizing youth to the bed. His beetling brows trembled
+and the tears made him blink as he tied the coarse knots of the rope,
+fastening the youth to the bed upon which he had been born. He felt as
+if he were preparing his son for burial and had begun to dig his grave.
+The victim twisted in wild contortions under the father's strong arms;
+the parent had to make a powerful effort to subdue him under the rope
+that sank into his flesh.... To have lived so many years only to behold
+himself at last obliged to perform such a task! To give life to a
+creature, only to pray that it might be extinguished as soon as
+possible, horrified by so much useless pain!... Good God in heaven! Why
+not put an end to the poor boy at once, since his death was now
+inevitable?...
+
+He closed the door of the sick room, fleeing from the rasping shriek
+that set everybody's hair on end; but the madman's panting continued to
+sound in the silence of the cabin, accompanied by the lamentations of
+the mother and the weeping of the other women grouped around the lamp,
+that had just been lighted.
+
+_Caldera_ stamped upon the floor. Let the women be silent! But for the
+first time he beheld himself disobeyed, and he left the cabin, fleeing
+from this chorus of grief.
+
+Night descended. His gaze wandered toward the thin yellow band that was
+visible on the horizon, marking the flight of day. Above his head shone
+the stars. From the other homes, which were scarcely visible, resounded
+the neighing of horses, barking and the clucking of fowl,--the last
+signs of animal life before it sank to rest. That primitive man felt an
+impression of emptiness amid the Nature which was insensible and blind
+to the sufferings of its creatures. Of what concern to the points of
+light that looked down upon him from above could be that which he was
+now going through?... All creatures were equal; the beasts that
+disturbed the silence of dusk before falling asleep, and that poor youth
+similar to him, who now lay fettered, writhing in the worst of agony.
+How many illusions his life had contained!... And with a mere bite, a
+wretched animal kicked about by all men could finish them all. And no
+remedy existed in heaven or upon earth!...
+
+Once again the distant shriek of the sufferer came to his ears from the
+open window of the _estudi_. The tenderness of his early days of
+paternity emerged from the depths of his soul. He recalled the nights he
+had spent awake in that room, walking up and down, holding in his arms
+the little child that was crying from the pains of infancy's illness.
+Now he lay crying, too, but without hope, in the agonies of a hell that
+had come before its time, and at last... death. His countenance grew
+frightened, and he raised his hands to his forehead as if trying to
+drive away a troublesome thought. Then he appeared to deliberate.... Why
+not?...
+
+"To end his suffering... to end his suffering!"
+
+He went back to the cabin, only to come out at once with his old
+double-barrelled musket, and he hastened to the little window of the
+sick room as if he feared to lose his determination; he thrust the gun
+through the opening.
+
+Again he heard the agonizing panting, the chattering of teeth, the
+horrible shriek, now very near, as if he were at the victim's bedside.
+His eyes, accustomed to the darkness saw the bed at the back of the
+gloomy room, and the form that lay writhing in it,--the pale spot of the
+face, appearing and disappearing as the sick man twisted about
+desperately.
+
+The father was frightened at the trembling of his hands and the
+agitation of his pulse; he, the son of the _huerta_, without any other
+diversion than the hunt, accustomed to shoot down birds almost without
+aiming at them.
+
+The wailing of the poor mother brought back to his memory other groans
+of long long ago,--twenty-two years before--when she was giving birth to
+her only son upon that same bed.
+
+To come to such an end!... His eyes, gazing heavenward, saw a black sky,
+intensely black, with not a star in sight, and obscured by his tears....
+
+"Lord! To end his sufferings! To end his sufferings!"
+
+And repeating these words he pressed the musket against his shoulder,
+seeking the lock with a tremulous finger.... Bang! Bang!
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+THE WINDFALL
+
+
+"I SIR," said _Magdalena_, the bugler of the prison, "am no saint; I've
+been jailed many times for robberies; some of them that really took
+place and others that I was simply suspected of. Compared to you, who
+are a gentleman, and are in prison for having written things in the
+papers, I'm a mere wretch.... But take my word for it, this time I'm
+here for good."
+
+And raising one hand to his breast as he straightened his head with a
+certain pride, he added, "Petty thefts, that's all I'm not brave; I
+haven't shed a drop of blood."
+
+At break of day, _Magdalena's_ bugle resounded through the spacious
+yard, embroidering its reveille with scales and trills. During the day,
+with the martial instrument hanging from his neck, or caressing it with
+a corner of his smock so as to wipe off the vapor with which the
+dampness of the prison covered it, he would go through the entire
+edifice,--an ancient convent in whose refectories, granaries and garrets
+there were crowded, in perspiring confusion, almost a thousand men.
+
+He was the clock that governed the life and the activities of this mass
+of male flesh perpetually seething with hatred. He made the round of the
+cells to announce, with sonorous blasts, the arrival of the worthy
+director, or a visit from the authorities; from the progress of the sun
+along the white walls of the prison-yard he could tell the approach of
+the visiting hours,--the best part of the day,--and with his tongue
+stuck between his lips he would await orders impatiently, ready to burst
+into the joyous signal that sent the flock of prisoners scampering over
+the stairways in an anxious run toward the locutories, where a wretched
+crowd of women and children buzzed in conversation; his insatiable
+hunger kept him pacing back and forth in the vicinity of the old
+kitchen, in which the enormous stews filled the atmosphere with a
+nauseating odor, and he bemoaned the indifference of the chef, who was
+always late in giving the order for the mess-call.
+
+Those imprisoned for crimes of blood, heroes of the dagger who had
+killed their man in a fierce brawl or in a dispute over a woman and who
+formed an aristocracy that disdained the petty thieves, looked upon the
+bugler as the butt for pranks with which to while away their boredom.
+
+"Blow!" would come the command from some formidable fellow, proud of his
+crimes and his courage.
+
+And _Magdalena_ would draw himself up with military rigidity, close his
+mouth and inflate his cheeks, momentarily expecting two blows, delivered
+simultaneously by both hands, to expel the air from the ruddy globe of
+his face. At other times these redoubtable personages tested the
+strength of their arms upon _Magdalena's_ pate, which was bare with the
+baldness of repugnant diseases, and they would howl with laughter at the
+damage done to their fists by the protuberances of the hard skull. The
+bugler lent himself to these tortures with the humility of a whipped
+dog, and found a certain revenge in repeating, afterwards, those words
+that were a solace to him:
+
+"I'm good; I'm not a brave fellow. Petty thefts, that's all.... But as
+to blood, not a single drop."
+
+Visiting time brought his wife, the notorious _Peluchona_, a valiant
+creature who inspired him with great fear. She was the mistress of one
+of the most dangerous bandits in the jail. Daily she brought that fellow
+food, procuring these dainties at the cost of all manner of vile labors.
+The bugler, upon beholding her, would leave the lucutory, fearing the
+arrogance of her bandit mate, who would take advantage of the occasion
+to humiliate him before his former companion. Many times a certain
+feeling of curiosity and tenderness got the better of his fear, and he
+would advance timidly, looking beyond the thick bars for the head of a
+child that came with _la Peluchona_.
+
+"That's my son, sir," he said, humbly. "My Tonico, who no longer knows
+me or remembers me. They say that he doesn't resemble me at all. Perhaps
+he's not mine.... You can imagine, with the life his mother has always
+led, living near the garrisons, washing the soldiers' clothes!... But he
+was born in my home; I held him in my arms when he was ill, and that's a
+bond as close as ties of blood."
+
+Then he would resume his timid lurking about the locutory, as if
+preparing one of his robberies, to see his Tonico; and when he could see
+him for a moment, the sight was enough to extinguish his helpless rage
+before the full basket of lunch that the evil woman brought to her
+lover.
+
+_Magdalena's_ whole existence was summed up in two facts; he had robbed
+and he had travelled much. The robberies were insignificant; clothes or
+money snatched in the street, because he lacked courage for greater
+deeds. His travels had been compulsory,--always on foot, over the roads
+of Spain, marching in a chain gang of convicts, between the polished or
+white three-cornered hats that guarded the prisoners.
+
+After having been a "pupil" among the buglers of a regiment, he had
+launched upon this life of continuous imprisonment, punctuated by brief
+periods of freedom, in which he lost his bearings, not knowing what to
+do with himself and wishing to return as soon as possible to jail. It
+was the perpetual chain, but finished link by link, as he used to say.
+
+The police never organized a round-up of dangerous persons but what
+_Magdalena_ was found among them,--a timorous rat whose name the papers
+mentioned like that of a terrible criminal. He was always included in
+the trail of vagrant suspects who, without being charged with any
+specific crime, were sent from province to province by the authorities,
+in the hope that they would die of hunger along the roads, and thus he
+had covered the whole peninsula on foot, from Cadiz to Santander, from
+Valencia to La Coruna. With what enthusiasm he recalled his travels! He
+spoke of them as if they were joyous excursions, just like a wandering
+charity-student of the old _Tuna_ converting his tales into courses in
+picturesque geography. With hungry delight he recollected the abundant
+milk of Galicia, the red sausages of Extramadura, the Castilian bread,
+the Basque apples, the wines and ciders of all the districts he had
+traversed, with his luggage on his shoulder. Guards were changed every
+day,--some of them kind or indifferent, others ill-humored and cruel,
+who made all the prisoners fear a couple of shots fired beyond the ruts
+of the road, followed by the papers justifying the killing as having
+been caused by an attempt at flight. With a certain nostalgia he evoked
+the memory of mountains covered with snow or reddened and striped by the
+sun; the slow procession along the white road that was lost in the
+horizon, like an endless ribbon; the highlands, under the trees, in the
+hot noon hours; the storms that assailed them upon the highways;
+inundated ravines that forced them to camp out in the open; the arrival,
+late at night, at certain town prisons, old convenes or abandoned
+churches, in which every man hunted up a dry corner, protected from
+draughts, where he could stretch his mat; the endless journey with all
+the calm of a purposeless procession; the long halts in spots where life
+was so monotonous that the presence of a group of prisoners was an
+event; the urchins would come running up to the bars to speak with them,
+while the girls, impelled by morbid curiosity, would approach within a
+short distance, to hear their songs and their obscene language.
+
+"Some mighty interesting travels, sir," continued the robber. "For those
+of us who had good health and didn't drop by the roadside it was the
+same as a strolling band of students. Now and then a drubbing, but who
+pays any attention to such things!... They don't have these
+_conductions_ now; prisoners are transported by railroad, caged up in
+the cars. Besides, I am held for a criminal offense, and I must live
+inside the walls... jailed for good."
+
+And again he began to lament his bad luck, relating the final deed that
+had landed him in jail.
+
+It was a suffocating Sunday in July; an afternoon in which the streets
+of Valencia seemed to be deserted, under the burning sun and a wind like
+a furnace blast that came from the baked plains of the interior.
+Everybody was at the bull-fight or at the seashore. _Magdalena_ was
+approached by his friend _Chamorra_, an old prison and traveling
+companion, who exercised a certain influence over him. That _Chamorra_
+was a bad soul! A thief, but of the sort that go the limit, not
+recoiling before the necessity of shedding blood and with his knife
+always handy beside his skeleton-keys. It was a matter of cleaning out a
+certain house, upon which this fearful fellow had set his eye.
+_Magdalena_ modestly excused himself. He wasn't made for such things; he
+couldn't go so far. As for gliding up to a roof and pulling down the
+clothes that had been hung out to dry, or snatching a woman's purse with
+a quick pull and making off with it... all right. But to break into a
+house, and face the mystery of a dwelling, in which the people might be
+at home?...
+
+But _Chamorra's_ threatening look inspired him with greater fear than
+did the anticipation of such an encounter, and he finally consented.
+Very well; he would go as an assistant,--to carry the spoils, but ready
+to flee at the slightest alarm. And he refused to accept an old
+jack-knife that his companion offered him. He was consistent.
+
+"Petty thefts aplenty; but as to blood, not a single drop."
+
+Late in the afternoon they entered the narrow vestibule of a house that
+had no janitor, and whose inhabitants were all away. _Chamorra_ knew his
+victim; a comfortably fixed artisan who must have a neat little pile
+saved up. He was surely at the beach with his wife or at the bull-fight.
+Above, the door of the apartment yielded easily, and the two companions
+began to work in the gloom of the shuttered windows.
+
+_Chamorra_ forced the locks of two chiffoniers and a closet. There was
+silver coin, copper coin, several bank-notes rolled up at the bottom of
+a fan-case, the wedding-jewelry, a clock. Not a bad haul. His anxious
+looks wandered over the place, seeking to make off with everything that
+could be carried. He lamented the uselessness of _Magdalena_, who,
+restless with fear and with his arms hanging limp at his sides, was
+pacing to and fro without knowing what to do.
+
+"Take the quilts," ordered _Chamorra_, "We're sure to get something for
+the wool."
+
+And _Magdalena_, eager to finish the job as soon as possible, penetrated
+into the dark alcove, gropingly passing a rope underneath the quilts and
+the bed-sheets. Then, aided by his friend, he hurriedly made a bundle of
+everything, casting the voluminous burden upon his shoulders.
+
+They left without being detected, and walked off in the direction of the
+outskirts of the town, towards a shanty of Arrancapinos, where
+_Chamorra_ had his haunt. The latter walked ahead, ready to run at the
+first sign of danger; _Magdalena_ followed, trotting along, almost
+hidden beneath the tremendous load, fearing to feel at any moment the
+hand of the police upon his neck.
+
+Upon examining the proceeds of the robbery in the remote corral,
+_Chamorra_ exhibited the arrogance of a lion, granting his accomplice a
+few copper coins. This must be enough for the moment. He did this for
+_Magdalena's_ own good, as _Magdalena_ was such a spendthrift. Later he
+would give more.
+
+Then they untied the bundle of quilts, and _Chamorra_ bent over, his
+hands on his hips, exploding with laughter. What a find!... What a
+present!
+
+_Magdalena_ likewise burst into guffaws, for the first time that
+afternoon. Upon the bed-clothes lay an infant, dressed only in a little
+shirt, its eyes shut and its face purple from suffocation, but moving
+its chest with difficulty at feeling the first caress of fresh air.
+_Magdalena_ recalled the vague sensation he had experienced during his
+journey hither,--that of something alive moving inside the thick load on
+his back. A weak, suffocated whining pursued him in his flight.... The
+mother had left the little one asleep in the cool darkness of the
+alcove, and they, without knowing it, had carried it off together with
+the bed-clothes.
+
+_Magdalena's_ frightened eyes now looked questioningly at his companion.
+What were they to do with the child?... But that evil soul was laughing
+away like a very demon.
+
+"It's yours; I present it to you.... Eat it with potatoes."
+
+And he went off with all the spoils. _Magdalena_ was left standing in
+doubt, while he cradled the child in his arms. The poor little thing!...
+It looked just like his own Tono, when he sang him to sleep; just like
+him when he was ill and leaned his little head upon his father's bosom,
+while the parent wept, fearing for the child's life. The same little
+soft, pink feet; the same downy flesh, with skin as soft as silk.... The
+infant had ceased to cry, looking with surprised eyes at the robber, who
+was caressing it like a nurse.
+
+"Lullaby, my poor little thing! There, there, my little king... child
+Jesus! Look at me. I'm your uncle."
+
+But _Magdalena_ stopped laughing, thinking of the mother, of her
+desperate grief when she would return to the house. The loss of her
+little fortune would be her least concern. The child! Where was she to
+find her child?... He knew what mothers were like. _Peluchona_ was the
+worst of women, yet he had seen even her weep and moan before her little
+one in danger.
+
+He gazed toward the sun, which was beginning to sink in a majestic
+summer sunset. There was still time to take the infant back to the house
+before its parents would return. And if he should encounter them, he
+would lie, saying that he had found the infant in the middle of the
+street; he would extricate himself as well as he could. Forward; he had
+never felt so brave.
+
+Carrying the infant in his arms he walked at ease through the very
+streets over which he had lately hastened with the anxious gait of fear.
+He mounted the staircase without encountering anybody. Above, the same
+solitude. The door was still open, the bolt forced. Within, the
+disordered rooms, the broken furniture, the drawers upon the floor, the
+overturned chairs and clothes strewn about, filled him with a sensation
+of terror similar to that which assails the assassin who returns to
+contemplate the corpse of his victim some time after the crime.
+
+He gave a last fond kiss to the child and left it upon the bed.
+
+"Good-bye, my pet!"
+
+But as he approached the head of the staircase he heard footsteps, and
+in the rectangle of light that entered through the open door there
+bulked the silhouette of a corpulent man. At the same time there rang
+out the shrill shriek of a female voice, trembling with fright:
+
+"Robbers!... Help!"
+
+_Magdalena_ tried to escape, opening a passage for himself with his head
+lowered, like a cornered rat; but he felt himself seized by a pair of
+Cyclopean arms, accustomed to beating iron, and with a mighty thrust he
+was sent rolling down the stairs.
+
+On his face there were still signs of the bruises he had received from
+contact with the steps, and from the blows rained upon him by the
+infuriated neighbors.
+
+"In sum, sir. Breaking and entering. I'll get out in heaven knows how
+many years.... All for being kind-hearted. To make matters worse, they
+don't even give me any consideration, looking upon me as a clever
+criminal. Everybody knows that the real thief was _Chamorra_ whom I
+haven't seen since.... And they ridicule me for a silly fool."
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+THE LAST LION
+
+
+SCARCELY had the meeting of the honorable guild of _blanquers_ come to
+order within its chapel near the towers of Serranos, when Senor Vicente
+asked for the floor. He was the oldest tanner in Valencia. Many masters
+recalled their apprentice days and declared that he was the same now as
+then, with his white, brush-like mustache, his face that looked like a
+sun of wrinkles, his aggressive eyes and cadaverous thinness, as if all
+the sap of his life had been consumed in the daily motions of his feet
+and hands about the vats of the tannery.
+
+He was the only representative of the guild's glories, the sole survivor
+of those _blanquers_ who were an honor to Valencian history. The
+grandchildren of his former companions had become corrupted with the
+march of time; they were proprietors of large establishments, with
+thousands of workmen, but they would be lost if they ever had to tan a
+skin with their soft, business-man's hands. Only he could call himself a
+_blanquer_ of the old school, working every day in his little hut near
+the guild house; master and toiler at the same time, with no other
+assistants than his sons and grandchildren; his workshop was of the old
+kind, amid sweet domestic surroundings, with neither threats of strikes
+nor quarrels over the day's pay.
+
+The centuries had raised the level of the street, converting Senor
+Vicente's shop into a gloomy cave. The door through which his ancestors
+had entered had grown smaller and smaller from the bottom until it had
+become little more than a window. Five stairs connected the street with
+the damp floor of the tannery, and above, near a pointed arch, a relic
+of medieval Valencia, floated like banners the skins that had been hung
+up to dry, wafting about the unbearable odor of the leather. The old man
+by no means envied the _moderns_, in their luxuriously appointed
+business offices. Surely they blushed with shame on passing through his
+lane and seeing him, at breakfast hour, taking the sun,--his sleeves and
+trousers rolled up, showing his thin arms and legs, stained red,--with
+the pride of a robust old age that permitted him to battle daily with
+the hides.
+
+Valencia was preparing to celebrate the centenary of one of its famous
+saints, and the guild of _blanquers_, like the other historic guilds,
+wished to make its contribution to the festivities. Senor Vicente, with
+the prestige of his years, imposed his will upon all the masters. The
+_blanquers_ should remain what they were. All the glories of their past,
+long sequestrated in the chapel, must figure in the procession. And it
+was high time they were displayed in public! His gaze, wandering about
+the chapel, seemed to caress the guild's relics; the sixteenth century
+drums, as large as jars, that preserved within their drumheads the
+hoarse cries of revolutionary Germania; the great lantern of carved
+wood, torn from the prow of a galley; the red silk banner of the guild,
+edged with gold that had become greenish through the ages.
+
+All this must be displayed during the celebration, shaking off the dust
+of oblivion; even the famous lion of the _blanquers_!
+
+The _moderns_ burst into impious laughter. The lion, too?... Yes, the
+lion, too. To Senor Vicente it seemed a dishonor on the part of the
+guild to forget that glorious beast. The ancient ballads, the accounts
+of celebrations that might be read in the city archives, the old folks
+who had lived in the splendid epoch of the guilds with their fraternal
+camaraderie,--all spoke of the _blanquers_' lion; but now nobody knew
+the animal, and this was a shame for the trade, a loss to the city.
+
+Their lion was as great a glory as the silk mart or the well of San
+Vicente. He knew very well the reason for this opposition on the part of
+the _moderns_. They feared to assume the role of the lion. Never fear,
+my young fellows! He, with his burden of years, that numbered more than
+seventy, would claim this honor. It belonged to him in all justice; his
+father, his grandfather, his countless ancestors, had all been lions,
+and he felt equal to coming to blows with anybody who would dare dispute
+his right to the role of the lion, traditional in his family.
+
+With what enthusiasm Senor Vicente related the history of the lion and
+the heroic _blanquers_! One day the Barbary pirates from Bujia had
+landed at Torreblanca, just beyond Castellon, and sacked the church,
+carrying off the Shrine. This happened a little before the time of Saint
+Vicente Ferrer, for the old tanner had no other way of explaining
+history than by dividing it into two periods; before and after the
+Saint... The population, which was scarcely moved by the raids of the
+pirates, hearing of the abduction of pale maidens with large black eyes
+and plump figures, destined for the harem, as if this were an inevitable
+misfortune, broke into cries of grief upon learning of the sacrilege at
+Torreblanca.
+
+The churches of the town were draped in black; people went through the
+streets wailing loudly, striking themselves as a punishment. What could
+those dogs do with the blessed Host? What would become of the poor,
+defenseless Shrine?... Then it was that the valiant _blanquers_ came
+upon the scene. Was not the Shrine at Bujia? Then on to Bujia in quest
+of it! They reasoned like heroes accustomed to beating hides all day
+long, and they saw nothing formidable about beating the enemies of God.
+At their own expense they fitted out a galley and the whole guild went
+aboard, carrying along their beautiful banner; the other guilds, and
+indeed the entire town, followed this example and chartered other
+vessels.
+
+The Justice himself cast aside his scarlet gown and covered himself with
+mail from head to foot; the worthy councilmen abandoned the benches of
+the Golden Chamber, shielding their paunches with scales that shone like
+those of the fishes in the gulf; the hundred archers of la Pluma, who
+guarded _la Senera_ filled their quivers with arrows, and the Jews from
+the quarter of la Xedrea did a rushing business, selling all their old
+iron, including lances, notched swords and rusty corselets, in exchange
+for good, ringing pieces of silver.
+
+And off sped the Valencian galleys, with their jib-sails spread to the
+wind, convoyed by a shoal of dolphins, which sported about in the foam
+of their prows!... When the Moors beheld them approaching, the infidels
+began to tremble, repenting of their irreverence toward the Shrine. And
+this, despite the fact that they were a set of hardened old dogs.
+Valencians, headed by the valiant _blanquers_! Who, indeed, would dare
+face them!
+
+The battle raged for several days and nights, according to the tale of
+Senor Vicente. Reinforcements of Moors arrived, but the Valencians,
+loyal and fierce, fought to the death. And they were already beginning
+to feel exhausted from the labor of disembowelling so many infidels,
+when behold, from a neighboring mountain a lion comes walking down on
+his hind paws, for all the world like a regular person, carrying in his
+forepaws, most reverently, the Shrine,--the Shrine that had been stolen
+from Torreblanca! The beast delivered it ceremoniously into the hands of
+one of the guild, undoubtedly an ancestor of Senor Vicente, and hence
+for centuries his family had possessed the privilege of representing
+that amiable animal in the Valencian processions.
+
+Then he shook his mane, emitted a roar, and with blows and bites in
+every direction cleared the field instantly of Moors.
+
+The Valencians sailed for home, carrying the Shrine back like a trophy.
+The chief of the _blanquers_ saluted the lion, courteously offering him
+the guild house, near the towers of Serranos, which he could consider as
+his own. Many thanks; the beast was accustomed to the sun of Africa and
+feared a change of climate.
+
+But the trade was not ungrateful, and to perpetuate the happy
+recollection of the shaggy-maned friend whom they possessed on the other
+shore of the sea, every time the guild banner floated in the Valencian
+celebrations, there marched behind it an ancestor of Senor Vicente, to
+the sound of drums, and he was covered with hide, with a mask that was
+the living image of the worthy lion, bearing in his hands a Shrine of
+wood, so small and poor that it caused one to doubt the genuine value of
+Torreblanca's own Shrine.
+
+Perverse and irreverent persons even dared to affirm, to the great
+indignation of Senor Vicente, that the whole story was a lie. Sheer
+envy! Ill will of the other trades, which couldn't point to such a
+glorious history! There was the guild chapel as proof, and in it the
+lantern from the prow of the vessel, which the conscienceless wretches
+declared dated from many centuries after the supposed battle; and there
+were the guild drums, and the glorious banner; and the moth-eaten hide
+of the lion, in which all his predecessors had encased themselves, lay
+now forgotten behind the altar, covered with cobwebs and dust, but it
+was none the less as authentic and worthy of reverence as the stones of
+el Miguelete.[1]
+
+[Note 1: A belfry in Valencia.]
+
+And above all there was his faith, ardent and incontrovertible, capable
+of receiving as an affront to the family the slightest irreverence
+toward the African lion, the illustrious friend of the guild.
+
+The procession took place on an afternoon in June. The sons, the
+daughters-in-law and the grandsons of Senor Vicente helped him to get
+into the costume of the lion, perspiring most uncomfortably at the mere
+touch of that red-stained wool. "Father, you're going to
+roast."--"Grandpa, you'll melt inside of this costume."
+
+The old man, however, deaf to the warnings of the family, shook his
+moth-eaten mane with pride, thinking of his ancestors; then he tried on
+the terrifying mask, a cardboard arrangement that imitated, with a faint
+resemblance, the countenance of the wild beast.
+
+What a triumphant afternoon! The streets crowded with spectators; the
+balconies decorated with bunting, and upon them rows of variegated
+bonnets shading fair faces from the sun; the ground covered with myrtle,
+forming a green, odorous carpet whose perfume seemed to expand the
+lungs.
+
+The procession was headed by the standard-bearers, with beards of hemp,
+crowns and striped dalmatics, holding aloft the Valencian banners
+adorned with enormous bats and large L's beside the coat of arms; then,
+to the sound of the flageolet, the retinue of brave Indians, shepherds
+from Belen, Catalans and Mallorcans; following these passed the dwarfs
+with their monstrously huge heads, clicking the castanets to the rhythm
+of a Moorish march; behind these came the giants of the Corpus and at
+the end, the banners of the guilds; an endless row of red standards,
+faded with the years, and so tall that their tops reached higher than
+the first stories of the buildings.
+
+Flom! Rotoplom! rolled the drums of the _blanquers_,--instruments of
+barbarous sonority, so large that their weight forced the drummers to
+bow their necks. Flom! Rotoplom! they resounded, hoarse and menacing,
+with savage solemnity, as if they were still marking the tread of the
+revolutionary German regiments, sallying forth to the encounter with the
+emperor's young leader,--that Don Juan of Aragon, duke of Segorbe, who
+served Victor Hugo as the model for his romantic personage _Hernani_!
+Flom! Rotoplom! The people ran for good places and jostled one another
+to obtain a better view of the guild members, bursting into laughter and
+shouts. What was that? A monkey?... A wild man?... Ah! The faith of the
+past was truly laughable.
+
+The young members of the trade, their shirts open at the neck and their
+sleeves rolled up, took turns at carrying the heavy banner, performing
+feats of jugglery, balancing it on the palms of their hands or upon
+their teeth, to the rhythm of the drums.
+
+The wealthy masters had the honor of holding the cords of the banner,
+and behind them marched the lion, the glorious lion of the guild, who
+was now no longer known. Nor did the lion march in careless fashion; he
+was dignified, as the old traditions bade him be, and as Senor Vicente
+had seen his father march, and as the latter had seen his grandfather;
+he kept time with the drums, bowing at every step, to right and to left,
+moving the Shrine fan-wise, like a polite and well-bred beast who knows
+the respect due to the public.
+
+The farmers who had come to the celebration opened their eyes in
+amazement; the mothers pointed him out with their fingers so that the
+children might see him; but the youngsters, frowning, tightened their
+grasp upon their mothers' necks, hiding their faces to shed tears of
+terror.
+
+When the banner halted, the glorious lion had to defend himself with his
+hind paws against the disrespectful swarm of gamins that surrounded him,
+trying to tear some locks out of his moth-eaten mane. At other times the
+beast looked up at the balconies to salute the pretty girls with the
+Shrine; they laughed at the grotesque figure. And Senor Vicente did
+wisely; however much of a lion one may be, one must be gallant toward
+the fair sex.
+
+The spectators fanned themselves, trying to find a momentary coolness in
+the burning atmosphere; the _horchateros_[2] bustled among the crowds
+shouting their wares, called from all directions at once and not knowing
+whither to go first; the standard-bearers and the drummers wiped the
+sweat off their faces at every restaurant door, and at last went inside
+to seek refreshment.
+
+[Note 2: Vendors of _horchata_, iced orgeat.]
+
+But the lion stuck to his post. His mask became soft; he walked with a
+certain weariness, letting the Shrine rest upon his stomach, having by
+this time lost all desire to bow to the public.
+
+Fellow tanners approached him with jesting questions.
+
+"How are things going, _so Visent?"_
+
+And _so Visent_ roared indignantly from the interior of his cardboard
+disguise. How should things go? Very well. He was able to keep it up,
+without failing in his part, even if the parade continued for three
+days. As for getting tired, leave that to the young folks. And drawing
+himself proudly erect, he resumed his bows, marking time with his
+swaying Shrine of wood.
+
+The procession lasted three hours. When the guild banner returned to the
+Cathedral night was beginning to fall.
+
+Plom! Retoplom! The glorious banner of the _blanquers_ returned to its
+guild house behind the drums. The myrtle on the streets had disappeared
+beneath the feet of the paraders. Now the ground was covered with drops
+of wax, rose leaves and strips of tinsel. The liturgic perfume of
+incense floated through the air. Plom! Retoplom! The drums were tired;
+the strapping youths who had carried the standards were now panting,
+having lost all desire to perform balancing tricks; the rich masters
+clutched the cords of the banner tightly, as if the latter were towing
+them along, and they complained of their new shoes and their bunions;
+but the lion, the weary lion (ah, swaggering beast!), who at times
+seemed on the point of falling to the ground, still had strength left to
+rise on his hind paws and frighten the suburban couples, who pulled at a
+string of children that had been dazzled by the sights.
+
+A lie! Pure conceit! Senor Vicente knew what it felt like to be inside
+of the lion's hide. But nobody is obliged to take the part of the lion,
+and he who assumes it must stick it out to the bitter end.
+
+Once home, he sank upon the sofa like a bundle of wool; his sons,
+daughters-in-law and grandchildren hastened to remove the mask from his
+face. They could scarcely recognize him, so congested and scarlet were
+his features, which seemed to spurt water from every line of his
+wrinkles.
+
+They tried to remove his skins; but the beast was oppressed by a
+different desire, begging in a suffocated voice. He wished a drink; he
+was choking with the heat. The family, warning against illness,
+protested in vain. The deuce! He desired a drink right away. And who
+would dare resist an infuriated lion?...
+
+From the nearest cafe they brought him some ice-cream in a blue cup; a
+Valencian ice cream, honey-sweet and grateful to the nostrils,
+glistening with drops of white juice at the conical top.
+
+But what are ice creams to a lion! _Haaam_! He swallowed it at a single
+gulp, as if it were a mere trifle! His thirst and the heat assailed him
+anew, and he roared for other refreshment.
+
+The family, for reasons of economy, thought of the _horchata_ from a
+near-by restaurant. They would see; let a full jar of it be brought. And
+Senor Vicente drank and drank until it was unnecessary to remove the
+skins from him. Why? Because an attack of double pneumonia finished him
+inside of a few hours. The glorious, shaggy-haired _uniform_ of the
+family served him as a shroud.
+
+Thus died the lion of the _blanquers_,--the last lion of Valencia.
+
+And the fact is that _horchata_ is fatal for beasts.... Pure poison!
+
+END
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Luna Benamor, by Vicente Blasco Ibanez
+
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