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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:19:11 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:19:11 -0700 |
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diff --git a/2465-0.txt b/2465-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8288eb1 --- /dev/null +++ b/2465-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2441 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 2465 *** + + + + +CARMEN + +by Prosper Merimee + + +Translated by Lady Mary Loyd + + + + +CHAPTER I + +I had always suspected the geographical authorities did not know what +they were talking about when they located the battlefield of Munda in +the county of the Bastuli-Poeni, close to the modern Monda, some two +leagues north of Marbella. + +According to my own surmise, founded on the text of the anonymous author +of the _Bellum Hispaniense_, and on certain information culled from the +excellent library owned by the Duke of Ossuna, I believed the site of +the memorable struggle in which Caesar played double or quits, once and +for all, with the champions of the Republic, should be sought in the +neighbourhood of Montilla. + +Happening to be in Andalusia during the autumn of 1830, I made a +somewhat lengthy excursion, with the object of clearing up certain +doubts which still oppressed me. A paper which I shall shortly publish +will, I trust, remove any hesitation that may still exist in the minds +of all honest archaeologists. But before that dissertation of mine +finally settles the geographical problem on the solution of which the +whole of learned Europe hangs, I desire to relate a little tale. It will +do no prejudice to the interesting question of the correct locality of +Monda. + +I had hired a guide and a couple of horses at Cordova, and had +started on my way with no luggage save a few shirts, and Caesar’s +_Commentaries_. As I wandered, one day, across the higher lands of the +Cachena plain, worn with fatigue, parched with thirst, scorched by a +burning sun, cursing Caesar and Pompey’s sons alike, most heartily, my +eye lighted, at some distance from the path I was following, on a little +stretch of green sward dotted with reeds and rushes. That betokened the +neighbourhood of some spring, and, indeed, as I drew nearer I perceived +that what had looked like sward was a marsh, into which a stream, which +seemed to issue from a narrow gorge between two high spurs of the Sierra +di Cabra, ran and disappeared. + +If I rode up that stream, I argued, I was likely to find cooler water, +fewer leeches and frogs, and mayhap a little shade among the rocks. + +At the mouth of the gorge, my horse neighed, and another horse, +invisible to me, neighed back. Before I had advanced a hundred paces, +the gorge suddenly widened, and I beheld a sort of natural amphitheatre, +thoroughly shaded by the steep cliffs that lay all around it. It was +impossible to imagine any more delightful halting place for a traveller. +At the foot of the precipitous rocks, the stream bubbled upward and fell +into a little basin, lined with sand that was as white as snow. Five or +six splendid evergreen oaks, sheltered from the wind, and cooled by the +spring, grew beside the pool, and shaded it with their thick foliage. +And round about it a close and glossy turf offered the wanderer a better +bed than he could have found in any hostelry for ten leagues round. + +The honour of discovering this fair spot did not belong to me. A man was +resting there already--sleeping, no doubt--before I reached it. Roused +by the neighing of the horses, he had risen to his feet and had moved +over to his mount, which had been taking advantage of its master’s +slumbers to make a hearty feed on the grass that grew around. He was an +active young fellow, of middle height, but powerful in build, and proud +and sullen-looking in expression. His complexion, which may once have +been fine, had been tanned by the sun till it was darker than his hair. +One of his hands grasped his horse’s halter. In the other he held a +brass blunderbuss. + +At the first blush, I confess, the blunderbuss, and the savage looks +of the man who bore it, somewhat took me aback. But I had heard so much +about robbers, that, never seeing any, I had ceased to believe in their +existence. And further, I had seen so many honest farmers arm themselves +to the teeth before they went out to market, that the sight of firearms +gave me no warrant for doubting the character of any stranger. “And +then,” quoth I to myself, “what could he do with my shirts and my +Elzevir edition of Caesar’s _Commentaries_?” So I bestowed a friendly +nod on the man with the blunderbuss, and inquired, with a smile, whether +I had disturbed his nap. Without any answer, he looked me over from +head to foot. Then, as if the scrutiny had satisfied him, he looked as +closely at my guide, who was just coming up. I saw the guide turn pale, +and pull up with an air of evident alarm. “An unlucky meeting!” thought +I to myself. But prudence instantly counselled me not to let any symptom +of anxiety escape me. So I dismounted. I told the guide to take off the +horses’ bridles, and kneeling down beside the spring, I laved my head +and hands and then drank a long draught, lying flat on my belly, like +Gideon’s soldiers. + +Meanwhile, I watched the stranger, and my own guide. This last seemed to +come forward unwillingly. But the other did not appear to have any evil +designs upon us. For he had turned his horse loose, and the blunderbuss, +which he had been holding horizontally, was now dropped earthward. + +Not thinking it necessary to take offence at the scant attention paid +me, I stretched myself full length upon the grass, and calmly asked the +owner of the blunderbuss whether he had a light about him. At the same +time I pulled out my cigar-case. The stranger, still without opening his +lips, took out his flint, and lost no time in getting me a light. He was +evidently growing tamer, for he sat down opposite to me, though he still +grasped his weapon. When I had lighted my cigar, I chose out the best I +had left, and asked him whether he smoked. + +“Yes, senor,” he replied. These were the first words I had heard him +speak, and I noticed that he did not pronounce the letter _s_* in the +Andalusian fashion, whence I concluded he was a traveller, like myself, +though, maybe, somewhat less of an archaeologist. + + * The Andalusians aspirate the _s_, and pronounce it like + the soft _c_ and the _z_, which Spaniards pronounce like the + English _th_. An Andalusian may always be recognised by the + way in which he says _senor_. + +“You’ll find this a fairly good one,” said I, holding out a real Havana +regalia. + +He bowed his head slightly, lighted his cigar at mine, thanked me +with another nod, and began to smoke with a most lively appearance of +enjoyment. + +“Ah!” he exclaimed, as he blew his first puff of smoke slowly out of his +mouth and nostrils. “What a time it is since I’ve had a smoke!” + +In Spain the giving and accepting of a cigar establishes bonds of +hospitality similar to those founded in Eastern countries on the +partaking of bread and salt. My friend turned out more talkative than +I had hoped. However, though he claimed to belong to the _partido_ of +Montilla, he seemed very ill-informed about the country. He did not know +the name of the delightful valley in which we were sitting, he could +not tell me the names of any of the neighbouring villages, and when I +inquired whether he had not noticed any broken-down walls, broad-rimmed +tiles, or carved stones in the vicinity, he confessed he had never paid +any heed to such matters. On the other hand, he showed himself an expert +in horseflesh, found fault with my mount--not a difficult affair--and +gave me a pedigree of his own, which had come from the famous stud at +Cordova. It was a splendid creature, indeed, so tough, according to +its owner’s claim, that it had once covered thirty leagues in one day, +either at the gallop or at full trot the whole time. In the midst of his +story the stranger pulled up short, as if startled and sorry he had said +so much. “The fact is I was in a great hurry to get to Cordova,” he +went on, somewhat embarrassed. “I had to petition the judges about a +lawsuit.” As he spoke, he looked at my guide Antonio, who had dropped +his eyes. + +The spring and the cool shade were so delightful that I bethought me +of certain slices of an excellent ham, which my friends at Montilla had +packed into my guide’s wallet. I bade him produce them, and invited the +stranger to share our impromptu lunch. If he had not smoked for a long +time, he certainly struck me as having fasted for eight-and-forty hours +at the very least. He ate like a starving wolf, and I thought to myself +that my appearance must really have been quite providential for the poor +fellow. Meanwhile my guide ate but little, drank still less, and spoke +never a word, although in the earlier part of our journey he had proved +himself a most unrivalled chatterer. He seemed ill at ease in the +presence of our guest, and a sort of mutual distrust, the cause of which +I could not exactly fathom, seemed to be between them. + +The last crumbs of bread and scraps of ham had disappeared. We had each +smoked our second cigar; I told the guide to bridle the horses, and was +just about to take leave of my new friend, when he inquired where I was +going to spend the night. + +Before I had time to notice a sign my guide was making to me I had +replied that I was going to the Venta del Cuervo. + +“That’s a bad lodging for a gentleman like you, sir! I’m bound there +myself, and if you’ll allow me to ride with you, we’ll go together.” + +“With pleasure!” I replied, mounting my horse. The guide, who was +holding my stirrup, looked at me meaningly again. I answered by +shrugging my shoulders, as though to assure him I was perfectly easy in +my mind, and we started on our way. + +Antonio’s mysterious signals, his evident anxiety, a few words dropped +by the stranger, above all, his ride of thirty leagues, and the far from +plausible explanation he had given us of it, had already enabled me +to form an opinion as to the identity of my fellow-traveller. I had +no doubt at all I was in the company of a smuggler, and possibly of a +brigand. What cared I? I knew enough of the Spanish character to be very +certain I had nothing to fear from a man who had eaten and smoked +with me. His very presence would protect me in case of any undesirable +meeting. And besides, I was very glad to know what a brigand was really +like. One doesn’t come across such gentry every day. And there is a +certain charm about finding one’s self in close proximity to a dangerous +being, especially when one feels the being in question to be gentle and +tame. + +I was hoping the stranger might gradually fall into a confidential +mood, and in spite of my guide’s winks, I turned the conversation to +the subject of highwaymen. I need scarcely say that I spoke of them with +great respect. At that time there was a famous brigand in Andalusia, of +the name of Jose-Maria, whose exploits were on every lip. “Supposing I +should be riding along with Jose-Maria!” said I to myself. I told all +the stories I knew about the hero--they were all to his credit, indeed, +and loudly expressed my admiration of his generosity and his valour. + +“Jose-Maria is nothing but a blackguard,” said the stranger gravely. + +“Is he just to himself, or is this an excess of modesty?” I queried, +mentally, for by dint of scrutinizing my companion, I had ended by +reconciling his appearance with the description of Jose-Maria which I +read posted up on the gates of various Andalusian towns. “Yes, this must +be he--fair hair, blue eyes, large mouth, good teeth, small hands, fine +shirt, a velvet jacket with silver buttons on it, white leather gaiters, +and a bay horse. Not a doubt about it. But his _incognito_ shall be +respected!” We reached the _venta_. It was just what he had described +to me. In other words, the most wretched hole of its kind I had as yet +beheld. One large apartment served as kitchen, dining-room, and sleeping +chamber. A fire was burning on a flat stone in the middle of the room, +and the smoke escaped through a hole in the roof, or rather hung in a +cloud some feet above the soil. Along the walls five or six mule rugs +were spread on the floor. These were the travellers’ beds. Twenty paces +from the house, or rather from the solitary apartment which I have just +described, stood a sort of shed, that served for a stable. + +The only inhabitants of this delightful dwelling visible at the moment, +at all events, were an old woman, and a little girl of ten or twelve +years old, both of them as black as soot, and dressed in loathsome rags. +“Here’s the sole remnant of the ancient populations of Munda Boetica,” + said I to myself. “O Caesar! O Sextus Pompeius, if you were to revisit +this earth how astounded you would be!” + +When the old woman saw my travelling companion an exclamation of +surprise escaped her. “Ah! Senor Don Jose!” she cried. + +Don Jose frowned and lifted his hand with a gesture of authority that +forthwith silenced the old dame. + +I turned to my guide and gave him to understand, by a sign that no one +else perceived, that I knew all about the man in whose company I was +about to spend the night. Our supper was better than I expected. On +a little table, only a foot high, we were served with an old rooster, +fricasseed with rice and numerous peppers, then more peppers in oil, +and finally a _gaspacho_--a sort of salad made of peppers. These three +highly spiced dishes involved our frequent recourse to a goatskin filled +with Montella wine, which struck us as being delicious. + +After our meal was over, I caught sight of a mandolin hanging up against +the wall--in Spain you see mandolins in every corner--and I asked the +little girl, who had been waiting on us, if she knew how to play it. + +“No,” she replied. “But Don Jose does play well!” + +“Do me the kindness to sing me something,” I said to him, “I’m +passionately fond of your national music.” + +“I can’t refuse to do anything for such a charming gentleman, who gives +me such excellent cigars,” responded Don Jose gaily, and having made +the child give him the mandolin, he sang to his own accompaniment. His +voice, though rough, was pleasing, the air he sang was strange and sad. +As to the words, I could not understand a single one of them. + +“If I am not mistaken,” said I, “that’s not a Spanish air you have just +been singing. It’s like the _zorzicos_ I’ve heard in the Provinces,* and +the words must be in the Basque language.” + +* The _privileged Provinces_, Alava, Biscay, Guipuzcoa, and a part of +Navarre, which all enjoy special _fueros_. The Basque language is spoken +in these countries. + +“Yes,” said Don Jose, with a gloomy look. He laid the mandolin down on +the ground, and began staring with a peculiarly sad expression at the +dying fire. His face, at once fierce and noble-looking, reminded me, +as the firelight fell on it, of Milton’s Satan. Like him, perchance, +my comrade was musing over the home he had forfeited, the exile he had +earned, by some misdeed. I tried to revive the conversation, but so +absorbed was he in melancholy thought, that he gave me no answer. + +The old woman had already gone to rest in a corner of the room, behind +a ragged rug hung on a rope. The little girl had followed her into this +retreat, sacred to the fair sex. Then my guide rose, and suggested that +I should go with him to the stable. But at the word Don Jose, waking, as +it were, with a start, inquired sharply whither he was going. + +“To the stable,” answered the guide. + +“What for? The horses have been fed! You can sleep here. The senor will +give you leave.” + +“I’m afraid the senor’s horse is sick. I’d like the senor to see it. +Perhaps he’d know what should be done for it.” + +It was quite clear to me that Antonio wanted to speak to me apart. + +But I did not care to rouse Don Jose’s suspicions, and being as we +were, I thought far the wisest course for me was to appear absolutely +confident. + +I therefore told Antonio that I knew nothing on earth about horses, and +that I was desperately sleepy. Don Jose followed him to the stable, and +soon returned alone. He told me there was nothing the matter with the +horse, but that my guide considered the animal such a treasure that he +was scrubbing it with his jacket to make it sweat, and expected to spend +the night in that pleasing occupation. Meanwhile I had stretched myself +out on the mule rugs, having carefully wrapped myself up in my own +cloak, so as to avoid touching them. Don Jose, having begged me to +excuse the liberty he took in placing himself so near me, lay down +across the door, but not until he had primed his blunderbuss afresh and +carefully laid it under the wallet, which served him as a pillow. + +I had thought I was so tired that I should be able to sleep even in such +a lodging. But within an hour a most unpleasant itching sensation roused +me from my first nap. As soon as I realized its nature, I rose to my +feet, feeling convinced I should do far better to spend the rest of +the night in the open air than beneath that inhospitable roof. Walking +tiptoe I reached the door, stepped over Don Jose, who was sleeping the +sleep of the just, and managed so well that I got outside the building +without waking him. Just beside the door there was a wide wooden +bench. I lay down upon it, and settled myself, as best I could, for the +remainder of the night. I was just closing my eyes for a second time +when I fancied I saw the shadow of a man and then the shadow of a horse +moving absolutely noiselessly, one behind the other. I sat upright, and +then I thought I recognised Antonio. Surprised to see him outside the +stable at such an hour, I got up and went toward him. He had seen me +first, and had stopped to wait for me. + +“Where is he?” Antonio inquired in a low tone. + +“In the _venta_. He’s asleep. The bugs don’t trouble him. But what are +you going to do with that horse?” I then noticed that, to stifle all +noise as he moved out of the shed, Antonio had carefully muffled the +horse’s feet in the rags of an old blanket. + +“Speak lower, for God’s sake,” said Antonio. “You don’t know who that +man is. He’s Jose Navarro, the most noted bandit in Andalusia. I’ve been +making signs to you all day long, and you wouldn’t understand.” + +“What do I care whether he’s a brigand or not,” I replied. “He hasn’t +robbed us, and I’ll wager he doesn’t want to.” + +“That may be. But there are two hundred ducats on his head. Some lancers +are stationed in a place I know, a league and a half from here, and +before daybreak I’ll bring a few brawny fellows back with me. I’d have +taken his horse away, but the brute’s so savage that nobody but Navarro +can go near it.” + +“Devil take you!” I cried. “What harm has the poor fellow done you that +you should want to inform against him? And besides, are you certain he +is the brigand you take him for?” + +“Perfectly certain! He came after me into the stable just now, and said, +‘You seem to know me. If you tell that good gentleman who I am, I’ll +blow your brains out!’ You stay here, sir, keep close to him. You’ve +nothing to fear. As long as he knows you are there, he won’t suspect +anything.” + +As we talked, we had moved so far from the _venta_ that the noise of the +horse’s hoofs could not be heard there. In a twinkling Antonio snatched +off the rags he had wrapped around the creature’s feet, and was just +about to climb on its back. In vain did I attempt with prayers and +threats to restrain him. + +“I’m only a poor man, senor,” quoth he, “I can’t afford to lose two +hundred ducats--especially when I shall earn them by ridding the country +of such vermin. But mind what you’re about! If Navarro wakes up, he’ll +snatch at his blunderbuss, and then look out for yourself! I’ve gone too +far now to turn back. Do the best you can for yourself!” + +The villain was in his saddle already, he spurred his horse smartly, and +I soon lost sight of them both in the darkness. + +I was very angry with my guide, and terribly alarmed as well. After a +moment’s reflection, I made up my mind, and went back to the _venta_. +Don Jose was still sound asleep, making up, no doubt, for the fatigue +and sleeplessness of several days of adventure. I had to shake him +roughly before I could wake him up. Never shall I forget his fierce +look, and the spring he made to get hold of his blunderbuss, which, as a +precautionary measure, I had removed to some distance from his couch. + +“Senor,” I said, “I beg your pardon for disturbing you. But I have a +silly question to ask you. Would you be glad to see half a dozen lancers +walk in here?” + +He bounded to his feet, and in an awful voice he demanded: + +“Who told you?” + +“It’s little matter whence the warning comes, so long as it be good.” + +“Your guide has betrayed me--but he shall pay for it! Where is he?” + +“I don’t know. In the stable, I fancy. But somebody told me--” + +“Who told you? It can’t be the old hag--” + +“Some one I don’t know. Without more parleying, tell me, yes or no, have +you any reason for not waiting till the soldiers come? If you have +any, lose no time! If not, good-night to you, and forgive me for having +disturbed your slumbers!” + +“Ah, your guide! Your guide! I had my doubts of him at first--but--I’ll +settle with him! Farewell, senor. May God reward you for the service +I owe you! I am not quite so wicked as you think me. Yes, I still have +something in me that an honest man may pity. Farewell, senor! I have +only one regret--that I can not pay my debt to you!” + +“As a reward for the service I have done you, Don Jose, promise me +you’ll suspect nobody--nor seek for vengeance. Here are some cigars for +your journey. Good luck to you.” And I held out my hand to him. + +He squeezed it, without a word, took up his wallet and blunderbuss, and +after saying a few words to the old woman in a lingo that I could not +understand, he ran out to the shed. A few minutes later, I heard him +galloping out into the country. + +As for me, I lay down again on my bench, but I did not go to sleep +again. I queried in my own mind whether I had done right to save a +robber, and possibly a murderer, from the gallows, simply and solely +because I had eaten ham and rice in his company. Had I not betrayed my +guide, who was supporting the cause of law and order? Had I not +exposed him to a ruffian’s vengeance? But then, what about the laws of +hospitality? + +“A mere savage prejudice,” said I to myself. “I shall have to answer for +all the crimes this brigand may commit in future.” Yet is that instinct +of the conscience which resists every argument really a prejudice? It +may be I could not have escaped from the delicate position in which I +found myself without remorse of some kind. I was still tossed to and +fro, in the greatest uncertainty as to the morality of my behaviour, +when I saw half a dozen horsemen ride up, with Antonio prudently lagging +behind them. I went to meet them, and told them the brigand had fled +over two hours previously. The old woman, when she was questioned by the +sergeant, admitted that she knew Navarro, but said that living alone, +as she did, she would never have dared to risk her life by informing +against him. She added that when he came to her house, he habitually +went away in the middle of the night. I, for my part, was made to ride +to a place some leagues away, where I showed my passport, and signed a +declaration before the _Alcalde_. This done, I was allowed to recommence +my archaeological investigations. Antonio was sulky with me; suspecting +it was I who had prevented his earning those two hundred ducats. +Nevertheless, we parted good friends at Cordova, where I gave him as +large a gratuity as the state of my finances would permit. + + + +CHAPTER II + +I spent several days at Cordova. I had been told of a certain manuscript +in the library of the Dominican convent which was likely to furnish me +with very interesting details about the ancient Munda. The good fathers +gave me the most kindly welcome. I spent the daylight hours within their +convent, and at night I walked about the town. At Cordova a great many +idlers collect, toward sunset, in the quay that runs along the right +bank of the Guadalquivir. Promenaders on the spot have to breathe the +odour of a tan yard which still keeps up the ancient fame of the country +in connection with the curing of leather. But to atone for this, they +enjoy a sight which has a charm of its own. A few minutes before the +Angelus bell rings, a great company of women gathers beside the river, +just below the quay, which is rather a high one. Not a man would dare +to join its ranks. The moment the Angelus rings, darkness is supposed to +have fallen. As the last stroke sounds, all the women disrobe and step +into the water. Then there is laughing and screaming and a wonderful +clatter. The men on the upper quay watch the bathers, straining +their eyes, and seeing very little. Yet the white uncertain outlines +perceptible against the dark-blue waters of the stream stir the poetic +mind, and the possessor of a little fancy finds it not difficult to +imagine that Diana and her nymphs are bathing below, while he himself +runs no risk of ending like Acteon. + +I have been told that one day a party of good-for-nothing fellows banded +themselves together, and bribed the bell-ringer at the cathedral to ring +the Angelus some twenty minutes before the proper hour. Though it was +still broad daylight, the nymphs of the Guadalquivir never hesitated, +and putting far more trust in the Angelus bell than in the sun, they +proceeded to their bathing toilette--always of the simplest--with an +easy conscience. I was not present on that occasion. In my day, the +bell-ringer was incorruptible, the twilight was very dim, and nobody but +a cat could have distinguished the difference between the oldest orange +woman, and the prettiest shop-girl, in Cordova. + +One evening, after it had grown quite dusk, I was leaning over the +parapet of the quay, smoking, when a woman came up the steps leading +from the river, and sat down near me. In her hair she wore a great +bunch of jasmine--a flower which, at night, exhales a most intoxicating +perfume. She was dressed simply, almost poorly, in black, as most +work-girls are dressed in the evening. Women of the richer class only +wear black in the daytime, at night they dress _a la francesa_. When she +drew near me, the woman let the mantilla which had covered her head +drop on her shoulders, and “by the dim light falling from the stars” I +perceived her to be young, short in stature, well-proportioned, and with +very large eyes. I threw my cigar away at once. She appreciated this +mark of courtesy, essentially French, and hastened to inform me that she +was very fond of the smell of tobacco, and that she even smoked herself, +when she could get very mild _papelitos_. I fortunately happened to have +some such in my case, and at once offered them to her. She condescended +to take one, and lighted it at a burning string which a child brought +us, receiving a copper for its pains. We mingled our smoke, and talked +so long, the fair lady and I, that we ended by being almost alone on +the quay. I thought I might venture, without impropriety, to suggest our +going to eat an ice at the _neveria_.* After a moment of modest demur, +she agreed. But before finally accepting, she desired to know what +o’clock it was. I struck my repeater, and this seemed to astound her +greatly. + + * A _café_ to which a depot of ice, or rather of snow, is + attached. There is hardly a village in Spain without its + _neveria_. + +“What clever inventions you foreigners do have! What country do you +belong to, sir? You’re an Englishman, no doubt!”* + + * Every traveller in Spain who does not carry about samples + of calicoes and silks is taken for an Englishman + (_inglesito_). It is the same thing in the East. + +“I’m a Frenchman, and your devoted servant. And you, senora, or +senorita, you probably belong to Cordova?” + +“No.” + +“At all events, you are an Andalusian? Your soft way of speaking makes +me think so.” + +“If you notice people’s accent so closely, you must be able to guess +what I am.” + +“I think you are from the country of Jesus, two paces out of Paradise.” + +I had learned the metaphor, which stands for Andalusia, from my friend +Francisco Sevilla, a well-known _picador_. + +“Pshaw! The people here say there is no place in Paradise for us!” + +“Then perhaps you are of Moorish blood--or----” I stopped, not venturing +to add “a Jewess.” + +“Oh come! You must see I’m a gipsy! Wouldn’t you like me to tell you _la +baji_?* Did you never hear tell of Carmencita? That’s who I am!” + +* Your fortune. + +I was such a miscreant in those days--now fifteen years ago--that the +close proximity of a sorceress did not make me recoil in horror. “So be +it!” I thought. “Last week I ate my supper with a highway robber. To-day +I’ll go and eat ices with a servant of the devil. A traveller should see +everything.” I had yet another motive for prosecuting her acquaintance. +When I left college--I acknowledge it with shame--I had wasted a certain +amount of time in studying occult science, and had even attempted, more +than once, to exorcise the powers of darkness. Though I had been cured, +long since, of my passion for such investigations, I still felt a +certain attraction and curiosity with regard to all superstitions, and I +was delighted to have this opportunity of discovering how far the magic +art had developed among the gipsies. + +Talking as we went, we had reached the _neveria_, and seated ourselves +at a little table, lighted by a taper protected by a glass globe. I then +had time to take a leisurely view of my _gitana_, while several +worthy individuals, who were eating their ices, stared open-mouthed at +beholding me in such gay company. + +I very much doubt whether Senorita Carmen was a pure-blooded gipsy. At +all events, she was infinitely prettier than any other woman of her race +I have ever seen. For a women to be beautiful, they say in Spain, she +must fulfil thirty _ifs_, or, if it please you better, you must be able +to define her appearance by ten adjectives, applicable to three portions +of her person. + +For instance, three things about her must be black, her eyes, her +eyelashes, and her eyebrows. Three must be dainty, her fingers, her +lips, her hair, and so forth. For the rest of this inventory, see +Brantome. My gipsy girl could lay no claim to so many perfections. Her +skin, though perfectly smooth, was almost of a copper hue. Her eyes +were set obliquely in her head, but they were magnificent and large. Her +lips, a little full, but beautifully shaped, revealed a set of teeth as +white as newly skinned almonds. Her hair--a trifle coarse, perhaps--was +black, with blue lights on it like a raven’s wing, long and glossy. Not +to weary my readers with too prolix a description, I will merely add, +that to every blemish she united some advantage, which was perhaps all +the more evident by contrast. There was something strange and wild about +her beauty. Her face astonished you, at first sight, but nobody could +forget it. Her eyes, especially, had an expression of mingled sensuality +and fierceness which I had never seen in any other human glance. +“Gipsy’s eye, wolf’s eye!” is a Spanish saying which denotes close +observation. If my readers have no time to go to the “Jardin des +Plantes” to study the wolf’s expression, they will do well to watch the +ordinary cat when it is lying in wait for a sparrow. + +It will be understood that I should have looked ridiculous if I had +proposed to have my fortune told in a _café_. I therefore begged the +pretty witch’s leave to go home with her. She made no difficulties +about consenting, but she wanted to know what o’clock it was again, and +requested me to make my repeater strike once more. + +“Is it really gold?” she said, gazing at it with rapt attention. + +When we started off again, it was quite dark. Most of the shops were +shut, and the streets were almost empty. We crossed the bridge over the +Guadalquivir, and at the far end of the suburb we stopped in front of +a house of anything but palatial appearance. The door was opened by a +child, to whom the gipsy spoke a few words in a language unknown to me, +which I afterward understood to be _Romany_, or _chipe calli_--the gipsy +idiom. The child instantly disappeared, leaving us in sole possession of +a tolerably spacious room, furnished with a small table, two stools, and +a chest. I must not forget to mention a jar of water, a pile of oranges, +and a bunch of onions. + +As soon as we were left alone, the gipsy produced, out of her chest, +a pack of cards, bearing signs of constant usage, a magnet, a dried +chameleon, and a few other indispensable adjuncts of her art. Then she +bade me cross my left hand with a silver coin, and the magic ceremonies +duly began. It is unnecessary to chronicle her predictions, and as for +the style of her performance, it proved her to be no mean sorceress. + +Unluckily we were soon disturbed. The door was suddenly burst open, +and a man, shrouded to the eyes in a brown cloak, entered the room, +apostrophizing the gipsy in anything but gentle terms. What he said I +could not catch, but the tone of his voice revealed the fact that he was +in a very evil temper. The gipsy betrayed neither surprise nor anger +at his advent, but she ran to meet him, and with a most striking +volubility, she poured out several sentences in the mysterious language +she had already used in my presence. The word _payllo_, frequently +reiterated, was the only one I understood. I knew that the gipsies use +it to describe all men not of their own race. Concluding myself to be +the subject of this discourse, I was prepared for a somewhat delicate +explanation. I had already laid my hand on the leg of one of the stools, +and was studying within myself to discover the exact moment at which I +had better throw it at his head, when, roughly pushing the gipsy to one +side, the man advanced toward me. Then with a step backward he cried: + +“What, sir! Is it you?” + +I looked at him in my turn and recognised my friend Don Jose. At that +moment I did feel rather sorry I had saved him from the gallows. + +“What, is it you, my good fellow?” I exclaimed, with as easy a smile as +I could muster. “You have interrupted this young lady just when she was +foretelling me most interesting things!” + +“The same as ever. There shall be an end to it!” he hissed between his +teeth, with a savage glance at her. + +Meanwhile the _gitana_ was still talking to him in her own tongue. She +became more and more excited. Her eyes grew fierce and bloodshot, +her features contracted, she stamped her foot. She seemed to me to be +earnestly pressing him to do something he was unwilling to do. What this +was I fancied I understood only too well, by the fashion in which she +kept drawing her little hand backward and forward under her chin. I was +inclined to think she wanted to have somebody’s throat cut, and I had a +fair suspicion the throat in question was my own. To all her torrent of +eloquence Don Jose’s only reply was two or three shortly spoken words. +At this the gipsy cast a glance of the most utter scorn at him, then, +seating herself Turkish-fashion in a corner of the room, she picked out +an orange, tore off the skin, and began to eat it. + +Don Jose took hold of my arm, opened the door, and led me into the +street. We walked some two hundred paces in the deepest silence. Then he +stretched out his hand. + +“Go straight on,” he said, “and you’ll come to the bridge.” + +That instant he turned his back on me and departed at a great pace. I +took my way back to my inn, rather crestfallen, and considerably out +of temper. The worst of all was that, when I undressed, I discovered my +watch was missing. + +Various considerations prevented me from going to claim it next day, or +requesting the _Corregidor_ to be good enough to have a search made +for it. I finished my work on the Dominican manuscript, and went on +to Seville. After several months spent wandering hither and thither in +Andalusia, I wanted to get back to Madrid, and with that object I had to +pass through Cordova. I had no intention of making any stay there, for +I had taken a dislike to that fair city, and to the ladies who bathed +in the Guadalquivir. Nevertheless, I had some visits to pay, and certain +errands to do, which must detain me several days in the old capital of +the Mussulman princes. + +The moment I made my appearance in the Dominican convent, one of the +monks, who had always shown the most lively interest in my inquiries +as to the site of the battlefield of Munda, welcomed me with open arms, +exclaiming: + +“Praised be God! You are welcome! My dear friend. We all thought you +were dead, and I myself have said many a _pater_ and _ave_ (not that I +regret them!) for your soul. Then you weren’t murdered, after all? That +you were robbed, we know!” + +“What do you mean?” I asked, rather astonished. + +“Oh, you know! That splendid repeater you used to strike in the library +whenever we said it was time for us to go into church. Well, it has been +found, and you’ll get it back.” + +“Why,” I broke in, rather put out of countenance, “I lost it--” + +“The rascal’s under lock and key, and as he was known to be a man who +would shoot any Christian for the sake of a _peseta_, we were +most dreadfully afraid he had killed you. I’ll go with you to the +_Corregidor_, and he’ll give you back your fine watch. And after that, +you won’t dare to say the law doesn’t do its work properly in Spain.” + +“I assure you,” said I, “I’d far rather lose my watch than have to +give evidence in court to hang a poor unlucky devil, and especially +because--because----” + +“Oh, you needn’t be alarmed! He’s thoroughly done for; they might hang +him twice over. But when I say hang, I say wrong. Your thief is an +_Hidalgo_. So he’s to be garrotted the day after to-morrow, without +fail.* So you see one theft more or less won’t affect his position. +Would to God he had done nothing but steal! But he has committed several +murders, one more hideous than the other.” + + * In 1830, the noble class still enjoyed this privilege. + Nowadays, under the constitutional _regime_, commoners have + attained the same dignity. + +“What’s his name?” + +“In this country he is only known as Jose Navarro, but he has another +Basque name, which neither your nor I will ever be able to pronounce. +By the way, the man is worth seeing, and you, who like to study the +peculiar features of each country, shouldn’t lose this chance of noting +how a rascal bids farewell to this world in Spain. He is in jail, and +Father Martinez will take you to him.” + +So bent was my Dominican friend on my seeing the preparations for this +“neat little hanging job” that I was fain to agree. I went to see the +prisoner, having provided myself with a bundle of cigars, which I hoped +might induce him to forgive my intrusion. + +I was ushered into Don Jose’s presence just as he was sitting at table. +He greeted me with a rather distant nod, and thanked me civilly for the +present I had brought him. Having counted the cigars in the bundle I +had placed in his hand, he took out a certain number and returned me the +rest, remarking that he would not need any more of them. + +I inquired whether by laying out a little money, or by applying to +my friends, I might not be able to do something to soften his lot. He +shrugged his shoulders, to begin with, smiling sadly. Soon, as by an +after-thought, he asked me to have a mass said for the repose of his +soul. + +Then he added nervously: “Would you--would you have another said for a +person who did you a wrong?” + +“Assuredly I will, my dear fellow,” I answered. “But no one in this +country has wronged me so far as I know.” + +He took my hand and squeezed it, looking very grave. After a moment’s +silence, he spoke again. + +“Might I dare to ask another service of you? When you go back to your +own country perhaps you will pass through Navarre. At all events you’ll +go by Vittoria, which isn’t very far off.” + +“Yes,” said I, “I shall certainly pass through Vittoria. But I may very +possibly go round by Pampeluna, and for your sake, I believe I should be +very glad to do it.” + +“Well, if you do go to Pampeluna, you’ll see more than one thing that +will interest you. It’s a fine town. I’ll give you this medal,” he +showed me a little silver medal that he wore hung around his neck. +“You’ll wrap it up in paper”--he paused a moment to master his +emotion--“and you’ll take it, or send it, to an old lady whose address +I’ll give you. Tell her I am dead--but don’t tell her how I died.” + +I promised to perform his commission. I saw him the next day, and spent +part of it in his company. From his lips I learned the sad incidents +that follow. + + + +CHAPTER III + +“I was born,” he said, “at Elizondo, in the valley of Baztan. My name is +Don Jose Lizzarrabengoa, and you know enough of Spain, sir, to know at +once, by my name, that I come of an old Christian and Basque stock. I +call myself Don, because I have a right to it, and if I were at Elizondo +I could show you my parchment genealogy. My family wanted me to go into +the church, and made me study for it, but I did not like work. I was too +fond of playing tennis, and that was my ruin. When we Navarrese begin +to play tennis, we forget everything else. One day, when I had won the +game, a young fellow from Alava picked a quarrel with me. We took to our +_maquilas_,* and I won again. But I had to leave the neighbourhood. +I fell in with some dragoons, and enlisted in the Almanza Cavalry +Regiment. Mountain folks like us soon learn to be soldiers. Before long +I was a corporal, and I had been told I should soon be made a sergeant, +when, to my misfortune, I was put on guard at the Seville Tobacco +Factory. If you have been to Seville you have seen the great building, +just outside the ramparts, close to the Guadalquivir; I can fancy I see +the entrance, and the guard room just beside it, even now. When Spanish +soldiers are on duty, they either play cards or go to sleep. I, like an +honest Navarrese, always tried to keep myself busy. I was making a chain +to hold my priming-pin, out of a bit of wire: all at once, my comrades +said, ‘there’s the bell ringing, the girls are coming back to work.’ You +must know, sir, that there are quite four or five hundred women employed +in the factory. They roll the cigars in a great room into which no man +can go without a permit from the _Veintiquatro_,** because when the +weather is hot they make themselves at home, especially the young ones. +When the work-girls come back after their dinner, numbers of young men +go down to see them pass by, and talk all sorts of nonsense to them. +Very few of those young ladies will refuse a silk mantilla, and men who +care for that sort of sport have nothing to do but bend down and pick +their fish up. While the others watched the girls go by, I stayed on my +bench near the door. I was a young fellow then--my heart was still in +my own country, and I didn’t believe in any pretty girls who hadn’t +blue skirts and long plaits of hair falling on their shoulders.*** And +besides, I was rather afraid of the Andalusian women. I had not got used +to their ways yet; they were always jeering one--never spoke a single +word of sense. So I was sitting with my nose down upon my chain, when I +heard some bystanders say, ‘Here comes the _gitanella_!’ Then I lifted +up my eyes, and I saw her! It was that very Carmen you know, and in +whose rooms I met you a few months ago. + + * Iron-shod sticks used by the Basques. + + ** Magistrate in charge of the municipal police + arrangements, and local government regulations. + + *** The costume usually worn by peasant women in Navarre and + the Basque Provinces. + +“She was wearing a very short skirt, below which her white silk +stockings--with more than one hole in them--and her dainty red morocco +shoes, fastened with flame-coloured ribbons, were clearly seen. She had +thrown her mantilla back, to show her shoulders, and a great bunch of +acacia that was thrust into her chemise. She had another acacia blossom +in the corner of her mouth, and she walked along, swaying her hips, like +a filly from the Cordova stud farm. In my country anybody who had seen +a woman dressed in that fashion would have crossed himself. At Seville +every man paid her some bold compliment on her appearance. She had +an answer for each and all, with her hand on her hip, as bold as the +thorough gipsy she was. At first I didn’t like her looks, and I fell to +my work again. But she, like all women and cats, who won’t come if you +call them, and do come if you don’t call them, stopped short in front of +me, and spoke to me. + +“‘_Compadre_,’ said she, in the Andalusian fashion, ‘won’t you give me +your chain for the keys of my strong box?’ + +“‘It’s for my priming-pin,’ said I. + +“‘Your priming-pin!’ she cried, with a laugh. ‘Oho! I suppose the +gentleman makes lace, as he wants pins!’ + +“Everybody began to laugh, and I felt myself getting red in the face, +and couldn’t hit on anything in answer. + +“‘Come, my love!’ she began again, ‘make me seven ells of lace for my +mantilla, my pet pin-maker!’ + +“And taking the acacia blossom out of her mouth she flipped it at me +with her thumb so that it hit me just between the eyes. I tell you, sir, +I felt as if a bullet had struck me. I didn’t know which way to look. +I sat stock-still, like a wooden board. When she had gone into the +factory, I saw the acacia blossom, which had fallen on the ground +between my feet. I don’t know what made me do it, but I picked it up, +unseen by any of my comrades, and put it carefully inside my jacket. +That was my first folly. + +“Two or three hours later I was still thinking about her, when a +panting, terrified-looking porter rushed into the guard-room. He told +us a woman had been stabbed in the great cigar-room, and that the guard +must be sent in at once. The sergeant told me to take two men, and go +and see to it. I took my two men and went upstairs. Imagine, sir, that +when I got into the room, I found, to begin with, some three hundred +women, stripped to their shifts, or very near it, all of them screaming +and yelling and gesticulating, and making such a row that you couldn’t +have heard God’s own thunder. On one side of the room one of the women +was lying on the broad of her back, streaming with blood, with an X +newly cut on her face by two strokes of a knife. Opposite the wounded +woman, whom the best-natured of the band were attending, I saw Carmen, +held by five or six of her comrades. The wounded woman was crying out, +‘A confessor, a confessor! I’m killed!’ Carmen said nothing at all. She +clinched her teeth and rolled her eyes like a chameleon. ‘What’s this?’ +I asked. I had hard work to find out what had happened, for all the +work-girls talked at once. It appeared that the injured girl had boasted +she had money enough in her pocket to buy a donkey at the Triana Market. +‘Why,’ said Carmen, who had a tongue of her own, ‘can’t you do with a +broom?’ Stung by this taunt, it may be because she felt herself rather +unsound in that particular, the other girl replied that she knew nothing +about brooms, seeing she had not the honour of being either a gipsy +or one of the devil’s godchildren, but that the Senorita Carmen would +shortly make acquaintance with her donkey, when the _Corregidor_ took +her out riding with two lackeys behind her to keep the flies off. +‘Well,’ retorted Carmen, ‘I’ll make troughs for the flies to drink +out of on your cheeks, and I’ll paint a draught-board on them!’ * And +thereupon, slap, bank! She began making St. Andrew’s crosses on the +girl’s face with a knife she had been using for cutting off the ends of +the cigars. + + * _Pintar un javeque_, “paint a xebec,” a particular type of + ship. Most Spanish vessels of this description have a + checkered red and white stripe painted around them. + +“The case was quite clear. I took hold of Carmen’s arm. ‘Sister mine,’ I +said civilly, ‘you must come with me.’ She shot a glance of recognition +at me, but she said, with a resigned look: ‘Let’s be off. Where is my +mantilla?’ She put it over her head so that only one of her great eyes +was to be seen, and followed my two men, as quiet as a lamb. When we +got to the guardroom the sergeant said it was a serious job, and he must +send her to prison. I was told off again to take her there. I put her +between two dragoons, as a corporal does on such occasions. We started +off for the town. The gipsy had begun by holding her tongue. But when we +got to the _Calle de la Serpiente_--you know it, and that it earns its +name by its many windings--she began by dropping her mantilla on to her +shoulders, so as to show me her coaxing little face, and turning round +to me as well as she could, she said: + +“‘_Oficial mio_, where are you taking me to?’ + +“‘To prison, my poor child,’ I replied, as gently as I could, just as +any kind-hearted soldier is bound to speak to a prisoner, and especially +to a woman. + +“‘Alack! What will become of me! Senor Oficial, have pity on me! You are +so young, so good-looking.’ Then, in a lower tone, she said, ‘Let me get +away, and I’ll give you a bit of the _bar lachi_, that will make every +woman fall in love with you!’ + +“The _bar lachi_, sir, is the loadstone, with which the gipsies declare +one who knows how to use it can cast any number of spells. If you can +make a woman drink a little scrap of it, powdered, in a glass of white +wine, she’ll never be able to resist you. I answered, as gravely as I +could: + +“‘We are not here to talk nonsense. You’ll have to go to prison. Those +are my orders, and there’s no help for it!’ + +“We men from the Basque country have an accent which all Spaniards +easily recognise; on the other hand, not one of them can ever learn to +say _Bai, jaona_!* + + * Yes, sir. + +“So Carmen easily guessed I was from the Provinces. You know, sir, that +the gipsies, who belong to no particular country, and are always moving +about, speak every language, and most of them are quite at home in +Portugal, in France, in our Provinces, in Catalonia, or anywhere else. +They can even make themselves understood by Moors and English people. +Carmen knew Basque tolerably well. + +“‘_Laguna ene bihotsarena_, comrade of my heart,’ said she suddenly. ‘Do +you belong to our country?’ + +“Our language is so beautiful, sir, that when we hear it in a foreign +country it makes us quiver. I wish,” added the bandit in a lower tone, +“I could have a confessor from my own country.” + +After a silence, he began again. + +“‘I belong to Elizondo,’ I answered in Basque, very much affected by the +sound of my own language. + +“‘I come from Etchalar,’ said she (that’s a district about four hours’ +journey from my home). ‘I was carried off to Seville by the gipsies. +I was working in the factory to earn enough money to take me back to +Navarre, to my poor old mother, who has no support in the world but me, +besides her little _barratcea_* with twenty cider-apple trees in it. +Ah! if I were only back in my own country, looking up at the white +mountains! I have been insulted here, because I don’t belong to this +land of rogues and sellers of rotten oranges; and those hussies are +all banded together against me, because I told them that not all their +Seville _jacques_,** and all their knives, would frighten an honest lad +from our country, with his blue cap and his _maquila_! Good comrade, +won’t you do anything to help your own countrywoman?’ + + * Field, garden. + + ** Bravos, boasters. + +“She was lying then, sir, as she has always lied. I don’t know that that +girl ever spoke a word of truth in her life, but when she did speak, I +believed her--I couldn’t help myself. She mangled her Basque words, and +I believed she came from Navarre. But her eyes and her mouth and her +skin were enough to prove she was a gipsy. I was mad, I paid no more +attention to anything, I thought to myself that if the Spaniards had +dared to speak evil of my country, I would have slashed their faces just +as she had slashed her comrade’s. In short, I was like a drunken man, I +was beginning to say foolish things, and I was very near doing them. + +“‘If I were to give you a push and you tumbled down, good +fellow-countryman,’ she began again in Basque, ‘those two Castilian +recruits wouldn’t be able to keep me back.’ + +“Faith, I forgot my orders, I forgot everything, and I said to her, +‘Well, then, my friend, girl of my country, try it, and may our Lady of +the Mountain help you through.’ + +“Just at that moment we were passing one of the many narrow lanes one +sees in Seville. All at once Carmen turned and struck me in the chest +with her fist. I tumbled backward, purposely. With a bound she sprang +over me, and ran off, showing us a pair of legs! People talk about a +pair of Basque legs! but hers were far better--as fleet as they were +well-turned. As for me, I picked myself up at once, but I stuck out my +lance* crossways and barred the street, so that my comrades were checked +at the very first moment of pursuit. Then I started to run myself, and +they after me--but how were we to catch her? There was no fear of that, +what with our spurs, our swords, and our lances. + + * All Spanish cavalry soldiers carry lances. + +“In less time than I have taken to tell you the story the prisoner +had disappeared. And besides, every gossip in the quarter covered her +flight, poked scorn at us, and pointed us in the wrong direction. After +a good deal of marching and countermarching, we had to go back to the +guard-room without a receipt from the governor of the jail. + +“To avoid punishment, my men made known that Carmen had spoken to me in +Basque; and to tell the truth, it did not seem very natural that a blow +from such a little creature should have so easily overthrown a strong +fellow like me. The whole thing looked suspicious, or, at all events, +not over-clear. When I came off guard I lost my corporal’s stripes, and +was condemned to a month’s imprisonment. It was the first time I had +been punished since I had been in the service. Farewell, now, to the +sergeant’s stripes, on which I had reckoned so surely! + +“The first days in prison were very dreary. When I enlisted I had +fancied I was sure to become an officer, at all events. Two of +my compatriots, Longa and Mina, are captains-general, after all. +Chapalangarra was a colonel, and I have played tennis a score of times +with his brother, who was just a needy fellow like myself. ‘Now,’ I kept +crying to myself, ‘all the time you served without being punished +has been lost. Now you have a bad mark against your name, and to get +yourself back into the officers’ good graces you’ll have to work ten +times as hard as when you joined as a recruit.’ And why have I got +myself punished? For the sake of a gipsy hussy, who made game of me, and +who at this moment is busy thieving in some corner of the town. Yet I +couldn’t help thinking about her. Will you believe it, sir, those silk +stockings of hers with the holes in them, of which she had given me such +a full view as she took to her heels, were always before my eyes? I +used to look through the barred windows of the jail into the street, +and among all the women who passed I never could see one to compare with +that minx of a girl--and then, in spite of myself, I used to smell the +acacia blossom she had thrown at me, and which, dry as it was, still +kept its sweet scent. If there are such things as witches, that girl +certainly was one. + +“One day the jailer came in, and gave me an Alcala roll.* + + * _Alcala de los Panaderos_, a village two leagues from + Seville, where the most delicious rolls are made. They are + said to owe their quality to the water of the place, and + great quantities of them are brought to Seville every day. + +“‘Look here,’ said he, ‘this is what your cousin has sent you.’ + +“I took the loaf, very much astonished, for I had no cousin in Seville. +It may be a mistake, thought I, as I looked at the roll, but it was so +appetizing and smelt so good, that I made up my mind to eat it, without +troubling my head as to whence it came, or for whom it was really +intended. + +“When I tried to cut it, my knife struck on something hard. I looked, +and found a little English file, which had been slipped into the dough +before the roll had been baked. The roll also contained a gold piece of +two piastres. Then I had no further doubt--it was a present from Carmen. +To people of her blood, liberty is everything, and they would set a +town on fire to save themselves one day in prison. The girl was artful, +indeed, and armed with that roll, I might have snapped my fingers at the +jailers. In one hour, with that little file, I could have sawn through +the thickest bar, and with the gold coin I could have exchanged my +soldier’s cloak for civilian garb at the nearest shop. You may fancy +that a man who has often taken the eaglets out of their nests in our +cliff would have found no difficulty in getting down to the street +out of a window less than thirty feet above it. But I didn’t choose to +escape. I still had a soldier’s code of honour, and desertion appeared +to me in the light of a heinous crime. Yet this proof of remembrance +touched me. When a man is in prison he likes to think he has a friend +outside who takes an interest in him. The gold coin did rather offend +me; I should have very much liked to return it; but where was I to find +my creditor? That did not seem a very easy task. + +“After the ceremony of my degradation I had fancied my sufferings were +over, but I had another humiliation before me. That came when I left +prison, and was told off for duty, and put on sentry, as a private +soldier. You can not conceive what a proud man endures at such a moment. +I believe I would have just as soon been shot dead--then I should have +marched alone at the head of my platoon, at all events; I should have +felt I was somebody, with the eyes of others fixed upon me. + +“I was posted as sentry on the door of the colonel’s house. The colonel +was a young man, rich, good-natured, fond of amusing himself. All +the young officers were there, and many civilians as well, besides +ladies--actresses, as it was said. For my part, it seemed to me as if +the whole town had agreed to meet at that door, in order to stare at me. +Then up drove the colonel’s carriage, with his valet on the box. And who +should I see get out of it, but the gipsy girl! She was dressed up, this +time, to the eyes, togged out in golden ribbons--a spangled gown, blue +shoes, all spangled too, flowers and gold lace all over her. In her hand +she carried a tambourine. With her there were two other gipsy women, one +young and one old. They always have one old woman who goes with them, +and then an old man with a guitar, a gipsy too, to play alone, and also +for their dances. You must know these gipsy girls are often sent for to +private houses, to dance their special dance, the _Romalis_, and often, +too, for quite other purposes. + +“Carmen recognised me, and we exchanged glances. I don’t know why, but +at that moment I should have liked to have been a hundred feet beneath +the ground. + +“‘_Agur laguna_,’ * said she. ‘Oficial mio! You keep guard like a +recruit,’ and before I could find a word in answer, she was inside the +house. + + * Good-day, comrade! + +“The whole party was assembled in the _patio_, and in spite of the crowd +I could see nearly everything that went on through the lattice.* I +could hear the castanets and the tambourine, the laughter and applause. +Sometimes I caught a glimpse of her head as she bounded upward with her +tambourine. Then I could hear the officers saying many things to her +which brought the blood to my face. As to her answers, I knew nothing +of them. It was on that day, I think, that I began to love her in +earnest--for three or four times I was tempted to rush into the _patio_, +and drive my sword into the bodies of all the coxcombs who were making +love to her. My torture lasted a full hour; then the gipsies came out, +and the carriage took them away. As she passed me by, Carmen looked at +me with those eyes you know, and said to me very low, ‘Comrade, people +who are fond of good _fritata_ come to eat it at Lillas Pastia’s at +Triana!’ + + * In most of the houses in Seville there is an inner court + surrounded by an arched portico. This is used as a sitting- + room in summer. Over the court is stretched a piece of tent + cloth, which is watered during the day and removed at night. + The street door is almost always left open, and the passage + leading to the court (_zaguan_) is closed by an iron lattice + of very elegant workmanship. + +“Then, light as a kid, she stepped into the carriage, the coachman +whipped up his mules, and the whole merry party departed, whither I know +not. + +“You may fancy that the moment I was off guard I went to Triana; but +first of all I got myself shaved and brushed myself up as if I had been +going on parade. She was living with Lillas Pastia, an old fried-fish +seller, a gipsy, as black as a Moor, to whose house a great many +civilians resorted to eat _fritata_, especially, I think, because Carmen +had taken up her quarters there. + +“‘Lillas,’ she said, as soon as she saw me. ‘I’m not going to work any +more to-day. To-morrow will be a day, too.* Come, fellow-countryman, let +us go for a walk!’ + + * _Manana sera otro dia._--A Spanish proverb. + +“She pulled her mantilla across her nose, and there we were in the +street, without my knowing in the least whither I was bound. + +“‘Senorita,’ said I, ‘I think I have to thank you for a present I +had while I was in prison. I’ve eaten the bread; the file will do for +sharpening my lance, and I keep it in remembrance of you. But as for the +money, here it is.’ + +“‘Why, he’s kept the money!’ she exclaimed, bursting out laughing. +‘But, after all, that’s all the better--for I’m decidedly hard up! What +matter! The dog that runs never starves!* Come, let’s spend it all! You +shall treat.’ + + * _Chuquel sos pirela, cocal terela_. “The dog that runs + finds a bone.”--Gipsy proverb. + +“We had turned back toward Seville. At the entrance of the _Calle de +la Serpiente_ she bought a dozen oranges, which she made me put into my +handkerchief. A little farther on she bought a roll, a sausage, and +a bottle of manzanilla. Then, last of all, she turned into a +confectioner’s shop. There she threw the gold coin I had returned to +her on the counter, with another she had in her pocket, and some small +silver, and then she asked me for all the money I had. All I possessed +was one peseta and a few cuartos, which I handed over to her, very much +ashamed of not having more. I thought she would have carried away the +whole shop. She took everything that was best and dearest, _yemas_,* +_turon_,** preserved fruits--as long as the money lasted. And all these, +too, I had to carry in paper bags. Perhaps you know the _Calle del +Candilejo_, where there is a head of Don Pedro the Avenger.*** That head +ought to have given me pause. We stopped at an old house in that street. +She passed into the entry, and knocked at a door on the ground floor. +It was opened by a gipsy, a thorough-paced servant of the devil. Carmen +said a few words to her in Romany. At first the old hag grumbled. To +smooth her down Carmen gave her a couple of oranges and a handful of +sugar-plums, and let her have a taste of wine. Then she hung her cloak +on her back, and led her to the door, which she fastened with a wooden +bar. As soon as we were alone she began to laugh and caper like a +lunatic, singing out, ‘You are my _rom_, I’m your _romi_.’**** + + * Sugared yolks of eggs. + + ** A sort of nougat. + + *** This king, Don Pedro, whom we call “the Cruel,” and whom + Queen Isabella, the Catholic, never called anything but “the + Avenger,” was fond of walking about the streets of Seville + at night in search of adventures, like the Caliph Haroun al + Raschid. One night, in a lonely street, he quarrelled with a + man who was singing a serenade. There was a fight, and the + king killed the amorous _caballero_. At the clashing of + their swords, an old woman put her head out of the window + and lighted up the scene with a tiny lamp (candilejo) which + she held in her hand. My readers must be informed that King + Don Pedro, though nimble and muscular, suffered from one + strange fault in his physical conformation. Whenever he + walked his knees cracked loudly. By this cracking the old + woman easily recognised him. The next day the _veintiquatro_ + in charge came to make his report to the king. “Sir, a duel + was fought last night in such a street--one of the + combatants is dead.” “Have you found the murderer?” “Yes, + sir.” “Why has he not been punished already?” “Sir, I await + your orders!” “Carry out the law.” Now the king had just + published a decree that every duellist was to have his head + cut off, and that head was to be set up on the scene of the + fight. The _veintiquatro_ got out of the difficulty like a + clever man. He had the head sawed off a statue of the king, + and set that up in a niche in the middle of the street in + which the murder had taken place. The king and all the + Sevillians thought this a very good joke. The street took + its name from the lamp held by the old woman, the only + witness of the incident. The above is the popular tradition. + Zuniga tells the story somewhat differently. However that + may be, a street called _Calle del Candilejo_ still exists + in Seville, and in that street there is a bust which is said + to be a portrait of Don Pedro. This bust, unfortunately, is + a modern production. During the seventeenth century the old + one had become very much defaced, and the municipality had + it replaced by that now to be seen. + + **** _Rom_, husband. _Romi_, wife. + +“There I stood in the middle of the room, laden with all her purchases, +and not knowing where I was to put them down. She tumbled them all onto +the floor, and threw her arms round my neck, saying: + +“‘I pay my debts, I pay my debts! That’s the law of the _Cales_.’* + + * _Calo_, feminine _calli_, plural _cales_. Literally + “black,” the name the gipsies apply to themselves in their + own language. + +“Ah, sir, that day! that day! When I think of it I forget what to-morrow +must bring me!” + +For a moment the bandit held his peace, then, when he had relighted his +cigar, he began afresh. + +“We spent the whole day together, eating, drinking, and so forth. When +she had stuffed herself with sugar-plums, like any child of six years +old, she thrust them by handfuls into the old woman’s water-jar. +‘That’ll make sherbet for her,’ she said. She smashed the _yemas_ by +throwing them against the walls. ‘They’ll keep the flies from bothering +us.’ There was no prank or wild frolic she didn’t indulge in. I told her +I should have liked to see her dance, only there were no castanets to +be had. Instantly she seized the old woman’s only earthenware plate, +smashed it up, and there she was dancing the _Romalis_, and making the +bits of broken crockery rattle as well as if they had been ebony and +ivory castanets. That girl was good company, I can tell you! Evening +fell, and I heard the drums beating tattoo. + +“‘I must get back to quarters for roll-call,’ I said. + +“‘To quarters!’ she answered, with a look of scorn. ‘Are you a negro +slave, to let yourself be driven with a ramrod like that! You are as +silly as a canary bird. Your dress suits your nature.* Pshaw! you’ve no +more heart than a chicken.’ + +* Spanish dragoons wear a yellow uniform. + +“I stayed on, making up my mind to the inevitable guard-room. The next +morning the first suggestion of parting came from her. + +“‘Hark ye, Joseito,’ she said. ‘Have I paid you? By our law, I owed you +nothing, because you’re a _payllo_. But you’re a good-looking fellow, +and I took a fancy to you. Now we’re quits. Good-day!’ + +“I asked her when I should see her again. + +“‘When you’re less of a simpleton,’ she retorted, with a laugh. Then, in +a more serious tone, ‘Do you know, my son, I really believe I love you a +little; but that can’t last! The dog and the wolf can’t agree for long. +Perhaps if you turned gipsy, I might care to be your _romi_. But that’s +all nonsense, such things aren’t possible. Pshaw! my boy. Believe me, +you’re well out of it. You’ve come across the devil--he isn’t always +black--and you’ve not had your neck wrung. I wear a woollen suit, but +I’m no sheep.* Go and burn a candle to your _majari_,** she deserves +it well. Come, good-by once more. Don’t think any more about _La +Carmencita_, or she’ll end by making you marry a widow with wooden +legs.’*** + + * _Me dicas vriarda de jorpoy, bus ne sino braco_.--A gipsy + proverb. + + ** The Saint, the Holy Virgin. + + *** The gallows, which is the widow of the last man hanged + upon it. + +“As she spoke, she drew back the bar that closed the door, and once we +were out in the street she wrapped her mantilla about her, and turned on +her heel. + +“She spoke the truth. I should have done far better never to think of +her again. But after that day in the _Calle del Candilejo_ I couldn’t +think of anything else. All day long I used to walk about, hoping I +might meet her. I sought news of her from the old hag, and from the +fried-fish seller. They both told me she had gone away to _Laloro_, +which is their name for Portugal. They probably said it by Carmen’s +orders, but I soon found out they were lying. Some weeks after my day +in the _Calle del Candilejo_ I was on duty at one of the town gates. A +little way from the gate there was a breach in the wall. The masons were +working at it in the daytime, and at night a sentinel was posted on it, +to prevent smugglers from getting in. All through one day I saw Lillas +Pastia going backward and forward near the guard-room, and talking to +some of my comrades. They all knew him well, and his fried-fish and +fritters even better. He came up to me, and asked if I had any news of +Carmen. + +“‘No,’ said I. + +“‘Well,’ said he, ‘you’ll soon hear of her, old fellow.’ + +“He was not mistaken. That night I was posted to guard the breach in +the wall. As soon as the sergeant had disappeared I saw a woman coming +toward me. My heart told me it was Carmen. Still I shouted: + +“‘Keep off! Nobody can pass here!’ + +“‘Now, don’t be spiteful,’ she said, making herself known to me. + +“‘What! you here, Carmen?’ + +“‘Yes, _mi payllo_. Let us say few words, but wise ones. Would you +like to earn a douro? Some people will be coming with bundles. Let them +alone.’ + +“‘No,’ said I, ‘I must not allow them through. These are my orders.’ + +“‘Orders! orders! You didn’t think about orders in the _Calle del +Candilejo_!’ + +“‘Ah!’ I cried, quite maddened by the very thought of that night. ‘It +was well worth while to forget my orders for that! But I won’t have any +smuggler’s money!’ + +“‘Well, if you won’t have money, shall we go and dine together at old +Dorotea’s?’ + +“‘No,’ said I, half choked by the effort it cost me. ‘No, I can’t.’ + +“‘Very good! If you make so many difficulties, I know to whom I can +go. I’ll ask your officer if he’ll come with me to Dorotea’s. He looks +good-natured, and he’ll post a sentry who’ll only see what he had better +see. Good-bye, canary-bird! I shall have a good laugh the day the order +comes out to hang you!’ + +“I was weak enough to call her back, and I promised to let the whole +of gipsydom pass in, if that were necessary, so that I secured the +only reward I longed for. She instantly swore she would keep her word +faithfully the very next day, and ran off to summon her friends, who +were close by. There were five of them, of whom Pastia was one, all well +loaded with English goods. Carmen kept watch for them. She was to warn +them with her castanets the instant she caught sight of the patrol. But +there was no necessity for that. The smugglers finished their job in a +moment. + +“The next day I went to the _Calle del Candilejo_. Carmen kept me +waiting, and when she came, she was in rather a bad temper. + +“‘I don’t like people who have to be pressed,’ she said. ‘You did me a +much greater service the first time, without knowing you’d gain anything +by it. Yesterday you bargained with me. I don’t know why I’ve come, for +I don’t care for you any more. Here, be off with you. Here’s a douro for +your trouble.’ + +“I very nearly threw the coin at her head, and I had to make a violent +effort to prevent myself from actually beating her. After we had +wrangled for an hour I went off in a fury. For some time I wandered +about the town, walking hither and thither like a madman. At last I went +into a church, and getting into the darkest corner I could find, I cried +hot tears. All at once I heard a voice. + +“‘A dragoon in tears. I’ll make a philter of them!’ + +“I looked up. There was Carmen in front of me. + +“‘Well, _mi payllo_, are you still angry with me?’ she said. ‘I must +care for you in spite of myself, for since you left me I don’t know what +has been the matter with me. Look you, it is I who ask you to come to +the _Calle del Candilejo_, now!’ + +“So we made it up: but Carmen’s temper was like the weather in our +country. The storm is never so close, in our mountains, as when the sun +is at its brightest. She had promised to meet me again at Dorotea’s, but +she didn’t come. + +“And Dorotea began telling me again that she had gone off to Portugal +about some gipsy business. + +“As experience had already taught me how much of that I was to believe, +I went about looking for Carmen wherever I thought she might be, and +twenty times in every day I walked through the _Calle del Candilejo_. +One evening I was with Dorotea, whom I had almost tamed by giving her +a glass of anisette now and then, when Carmen walked in, followed by a +young man, a lieutenant in our regiment. + +“‘Get away at once,’ she said to me in Basque. I stood there, +dumfounded, my heart full of rage. + +“‘What are you doing here?’ said the lieutenant to me. ‘Take yourself +off--get out of this.’ + +“I couldn’t move a step. I felt paralyzed. The officer grew angry, and +seeing I did not go out, and had not even taken off my forage cap, he +caught me by the collar and shook me roughly. I don’t know what I said +to him. He drew his sword, and I unsheathed mine. The old woman caught +hold of my arm, and the lieutenant gave me a wound on the forehead, of +which I still bear the scar. I made a step backward, and with one jerk +of my elbow I threw old Dorotea down. Then, as the lieutenant still +pressed me, I turned the point of my sword against his body and he +ran upon it. Then Carmen put out the lamp and told Dorotea, in her own +language, to take to flight. I fled into the street myself, and began +running along, I knew not whither. It seemed to me that some one was +following me. When I came to myself I discovered that Carmen had never +left me. + +“‘Great stupid of a canary-bird!’ she said, ‘you never make anything but +blunders. And, indeed, you know I told you I should bring you bad luck. +But come, there’s a cure for everything when you have a Fleming from +Rome* for your love. Begin by rolling this handkerchief round your head, +and throw me over that belt of yours. Wait for me in this alley--I’ll be +back in two minutes. + + * _Flamenco de Roma_, a slang term for the gipsies. Roma + does not stand for the Eternal City, but for the nation of + the _romi_, or the married folk--a name applied by the + gipsies to themselves. The first gipsies seen in Spain + probably came from the Low Countries, hence their name of + _Flemings_. + +“She disappeared, and soon came back bringing me a striped cloak which +she had gone to fetch, I knew not whence. She made me take off my +uniform, and put on the cloak over my shirt. Thus dressed, and with the +wound on my head bound round with the handkerchief, I was tolerably like +a Valencian peasant, many of whom come to Seville to sell a drink they +make out of ‘_chufas_.’* Then she took me to a house very much like +Dorotea’s, at the bottom of a little lane. Here she and another gipsy +woman washed and dressed my wounds, better than any army surgeon could +have done, gave me something, I know not what, to drink, and finally +made me lie down on a mattress, on which I went to sleep. + + * A bulbous root, out of which rather a pleasant beverage is + manufactured. + +“Probably the woman had mixed one of the soporific drugs of which they +know the secret in my drink, for I did not wake up till very late the +next day. I was rather feverish, and had a violent headache. It was some +time before the memory of the terrible scene in which I had taken part +on the previous night came back to me. After having dressed my wound, +Carmen and her friend, squatting on their heels beside my mattress, +exchanged a few words of ‘_chipe calli_,’ which appeared to me to be +something in the nature of a medical consultation. Then they both of +them assured me that I should soon be cured, but that I must get out +of Seville at the earliest possible moment, for that, if I was caught +there, I should most undoubtedly be shot. + +“‘My boy,’ said Carmen to me, ‘you’ll have to do something. Now that +the king won’t give you either rice or haddock* you’ll have to think of +earning your livelihood. You’re too stupid for stealing _a pastesas_.** +But you are brave and active. If you have the pluck, take yourself off +to the coast and turn smuggler. Haven’t I promised to get you hanged? +That’s better than being shot, and besides, if you set about it +properly, you’ll live like a prince as long as the _minons_*** and the +coast-guard don’t lay their hands on your collar.’ + + * The ordinary food of a Spanish soldier. + + ** _Ustilar a pastesas_, to steal cleverly, to purloin + without violence. + + *** A sort of volunteer corps. + +“In this attractive guise did this fiend of a girl describe the new +career she was suggesting to me,--the only one, indeed, remaining, now +I had incurred the penalty of death. Shall I confess it, sir? She +persuaded me without much difficulty. This wild and dangerous life, it +seemed to me, would bind her and me more closely together. In future, I +thought, I should be able to make sure of her love. + +“I had often heard talk of certain smugglers who travelled about +Andalusia, each riding a good horse, with his mistress behind him and +his blunderbuss in his fist. Already I saw myself trotting up and down +the world, with a pretty gipsy behind me. When I mentioned that notion +to her, she laughed till she had to hold her sides, and vowed there was +nothing in the world so delightful as a night spent camping in the open +air, when each _rom_ retired with his _romi_ beneath their little tent, +made of three hoops with a blanket thrown across them. + +“‘If I take to the mountains,’ said I to her, ‘I shall be sure of you. +There’ll be no lieutenant there to go shares with me.’ + +“‘Ha! ha! you’re jealous!’ she retorted, ‘so much the worse for you. How +can you be such a fool as that? Don’t you see I must love you, because I +have never asked you for money?’ + +“When she said that sort to thing I could have strangled her. + +“To shorten the story, sir, Carmen procured me civilian clothes, +disguised in which I got out of Seville without being recognised. I went +to Jerez, with a letter from Pastia to a dealer in anisette whose house +was the smugglers’ meeting-place. I was introduced to them, and their +leader, surnamed _El Dancaire_, enrolled me in his gang. We started for +Gaucin, where I found Carmen, who had told me she would meet me there. +In all these expeditions she acted as spy for our gang, and she was the +best that ever was seen. She had now just returned from Gibraltar, and +had already arranged with the captain of a ship for a cargo of English +goods which we were to receive on the coast. We went to meet it near +Estepona. We hid part in the mountains, and laden with the rest, we +proceeded to Ronda. Carmen had gone there before us. It was she again +who warned us when we had better enter the town. This first journey, and +several subsequent ones, turned out well. I found the smuggler’s life +pleasanter than a soldier’s: I could give presents to Carmen, I had +money, and I had a mistress. I felt little or no remorse, for, as the +gipsies say, ‘The happy man never longs to scratch his itch.’ We were +made welcome everywhere, my comrades treated me well, and even showed me +a certain respect. The reason of this was that I had killed my man, +and that some of them had no exploit of that description on their +conscience. But what I valued most in my new life was that I often saw +Carmen. She showed me more affection than ever; nevertheless, she would +never admit, before my comrades, that she was my mistress, and she had +even made me swear all sorts of oaths that I would not say anything +about her to them. I was so weak in that creature’s hands, that I obeyed +all her whims. And besides, this was the first time she had revealed +herself as possessing any of the reserve of a well-conducted woman, +and I was simple enough to believe she had really cast off her former +habits. + +“Our gang, which consisted of eight or ten men, was hardly ever together +except at decisive moments, and we were usually scattered by twos and +threes about the towns and villages. Each one of us pretended to have +some trade. One was a tinker, another was a groom; I was supposed to +peddle haberdashery, but I hardly ever showed myself in large places, on +account of my unlucky business at Seville. One day, or rather one night, +we were to meet below Veger. _El Dancaire_ and I got there before the +others. + +“‘We shall soon have a new comrade,’ said he. ‘Carmen has just managed +one of her best tricks. She has contrived the escape of her _rom_, who +was in the _presidio_ at Tarifa.’ + +“I was already beginning to understand the gipsy language, which nearly +all my comrades spoke, and this word _rom_ startled me. + +“What! her husband? Is she married, then?’ said I to the captain. + +“‘Yes!’ he replied, ‘married to Garcia _el Tuerto_*--as cunning a gipsy +as she is herself. The poor fellow has been at the galleys. Carmen has +wheedled the surgeon of the _presidio_ to such good purpose that she +has managed to get her _rom_ out of prison. Faith! that girl’s worth +her weight in gold. For two years she has been trying to contrive his +escape, but she could do nothing until the authorities took it into +their heads to change the surgeon. She soon managed to come to an +understanding with this new one.’ + + * One-eyed man. + +“You may imagine how pleasant this news was for me. I soon saw Garcia +_el Tuerto_. He was the very ugliest brute that was ever nursed +in gipsydom. His skin was black, his soul was blacker, and he was +altogether the most thorough-paced ruffian I ever came across in my +life. Carmen arrived with him, and when she called him her _rom_ in my +presence, you should have seen the eyes she made at me, and the faces +she pulled whenever Garcia turned his head away. + +“I was disgusted, and never spoke a word to her all night. The next +morning we had made up our packs, and had already started, when we +became aware that we had a dozen horsemen on our heels. The braggart +Andalusians, who had been boasting they would murder every one who came +near them, cut a pitiful figure at once. There was a general rout. _El +Dancaire_, Garcia, a good-looking fellow from Ecija, who was called _El +Remendado_, and Carmen herself, kept their wits about them. The rest +forsook the mules and took to the gorges, where the horses could not +follow them. There was no hope of saving the mules, so we hastily +unstrapped the best part of our booty, and taking it on our shoulders, +we tried to escape through the rocks down the steepest of the slopes. We +threw our packs down in front of us and followed them as best we could, +slipping along on our heels. Meanwhile the enemy fired at us. It was +the first time I had ever heard bullets whistling around me and I +didn’t mind it very much. When there’s a woman looking on, there’s no +particular merit in snapping one’s fingers at death. We all escaped +except the poor _Remendado_, who received a bullet wound in the loins. I +threw away my pack and tried to lift him up. + +“‘Idiot!’ shouted Garcia, ‘what do we want with offal! Finish him off, +and don’t lose the cotton stockings!’ + +“‘Drop him!’ cried Carmen. + +“I was so exhausted that I was obliged to lay him down for a moment +under a rock. Garcia came up, and fired his blunderbuss full into his +face. ‘He’d be a clever fellow who recognised him now!’ said he, as he +looked at the face, cut to pieces by a dozen slugs. + +“There, sir; that’s the delightful sort of life I’ve led! That night +we found ourselves in a thicket, worn out with fatigue, with nothing to +eat, and ruined by the loss of our mules. What do you think that devil +Garcia did? He pulled a pack of cards out of his pocket and began +playing games with _El Dancaire_ by the light of a fire they kindled. +Meanwhile I was lying down, staring at the stars, thinking of _El +Remendado_, and telling myself I would just as lief be in his place. +Carmen was squatting down near me, and every now and then she would +rattle her castanets and hum a tune. Then, drawing close to me, as if +she would have whispered in my ear, she kissed me two or three times +over almost against my will. + +“‘You are a devil,’ said I to her. + +“‘Yes,’ she replied. + +“After a few hours’ rest, she departed to Gaucin, and the next morning a +little goatherd brought us some food. We stayed there all that day, and +in the evening we moved close to Gaucin. We were expecting news from +Carmen, but none came. After daylight broke we saw a muleteer attending +a well-dressed woman with a parasol, and a little girl who seemed to +be her servant. Said Garcia, ‘There go two mules and two women whom St. +Nicholas has sent us. I would rather have had four mules, but no matter. +I’ll do the best I can with these.’ + +“He took his blunderbuss, and went down the pathway, hiding himself +among the brushwood. + +“We followed him, _El Dancaire_ and I keeping a little way behind. As +soon as the woman saw us, instead of being frightened--and our dress +would have been enough to frighten any one--she burst into a fit of loud +laughter. ‘Ah! the _lillipendi_! They take me for an _erani_!’ * + + * “The idiots, they take me for a smart lady!” + +“It was Carmen, but so well disguised that if she had spoken any other +language I should never have recognised her. She sprang off her mule, +and talked some time in an undertone with _El Dancaire_ and Garcia. Then +she said to me: + +“‘Canary-bird, we shall meet again before you’re hanged. I’m off to +Gibraltar on gipsy business--you’ll soon have news of me.’ + +“We parted, after she had told us of a place where we should find +shelter for some days. That girl was the providence of our gang. We soon +received some money sent by her, and a piece of news which was still +more useful to us--to the effect that on a certain day two English lords +would travel from Gibraltar to Granada by a road she mentioned. This was +a word to the wise. They had plenty of good guineas. Garcia would have +killed them, but _El Dancaire_ and I objected. All we took from them, +besides their shirts, which we greatly needed, was their money and their +watches. + +“Sir, a man may turn rogue in sheer thoughtlessness. You lose your +head over a pretty girl, you fight another man about her, there is a +catastrophe, you have to take to the mountains, and you turn from a +smuggler into a robber before you have time to think about it. After +this matter of the English lords, we concluded that the neighbourhood of +Gibraltar would not be healthy for us, and we plunged into the _Sierra +de Ronda_. You once mentioned Jose-Maria to me. Well, it was there I +made acquaintance with him. He always took his mistress with him on his +expeditions. She was a pretty girl, quiet, modest, well-mannered, you +never heard a vulgar word from her, and she was quite devoted to him. +He, on his side, led her a very unhappy life. He was always running +after other women, he ill-treated her, and then sometimes he would take +it into his head to be jealous. One day he slashed her with a knife. +Well, she only doted on him the more! That’s the way with women, and +especially with Andalusians. This girl was proud of the scar on her arm, +and would display it as though it were the most beautiful thing in the +world. And then Jose-Maria was the worst of comrades in the bargain. +In one expedition we made with him, he managed so that he kept all the +profits, and we had all the trouble and the blows. But I must go back to +my story. We had no sign at all from Carmen. _El Dancaire_ said: ‘One +of us will have to go to Gibraltar to get news of her. She must have +planned some business. I’d go at once, only I’m too well known at +Gibraltar.’ _El Tuerto_ said: + +“‘I’m well known there too. I’ve played so many tricks on the +crayfish*--and as I’ve only one eye, it is not overeasy for me to +disguise myself.’ + + * Name applied by the Spanish populace to the British + soldiers, on account of the colour of their uniform. + +“‘Then I suppose I must go,’ said I, delighted at the very idea of +seeing Carmen again. ‘Well, how am I to set about it?’ + +“The others answered: + +“‘You must either go by sea, or you must get through by San Rocco, +whichever you like the best; once you are in Gibraltar, inquire in the +port where a chocolate-seller called _La Rollona_ lives. When you’ve +found her, she’ll tell you everything that’s happening.’ + +“It was settled that we were all to start for the Sierra, that I was +to leave my two companions there, and take my way to Gibraltar, in +the character of a fruit-seller. At Ronda one of our men procured me +a passport; at Gaucin I was provided with a donkey. I loaded it with +oranges and melons, and started forth. When I reached Gibraltar I found +that many people knew _La Rollona_, but that she was either dead or had +gone _ad finibus terroe_,* and, to my mind, her disappearance explained +the failure of our correspondence with Carmen. I stabled my donkey, +and began to move about the town, carrying my oranges as though to sell +them, but in reality looking to see whether I could not come across any +face I knew. The place is full of ragamuffins from every country in the +world, and it really is like the Tower of Babel, for you can’t go ten +paces along a street without hearing as many languages. I did see some +gipsies, but I hardly dared confide in them. I was taking stock of them, +and they were taking stock of me. We had mutually guessed each other +to be rogues, but the important thing for us was to know whether we +belonged to the same gang. After having spent two days in fruitless +wanderings, and having found out nothing either as to _La Rollona_ or +as to Carmen, I was thinking I would go back to my comrades as soon as I +had made a few purchases, when, toward sunset, as I was walking along a +street, I heard a woman’s voice from a window say, ‘Orange-seller!’ + + * To the galleys, or else to all the devils in hell. + +“I looked up, and on a balcony I saw Carmen looking out, beside a +scarlet-coated officer with gold epaulettes, curly hair, and all +the appearance of a rich _milord_. As for her, she was magnificently +dressed, a shawl hung on her shoulders, she’d a gold comb in her hair, +everything she wore was of silk; and the cunning little wretch, not a +bit altered, was laughing till she held her sides. + +“The Englishman shouted to me in mangled Spanish to come upstairs, as +the lady wanted some oranges, and Carmen said to me in Basque: + +“‘Come up, and don’t look astonished at anything!’ + +“Indeed, nothing that she did ought ever to have astonished me. I don’t +know whether I was most happy or wretched at seeing her again. At the +door of the house there was a tall English servant with a powdered head, +who ushered me into a splendid drawing-room. Instantly Carmen said to me +in Basque, ‘You don’t know one word of Spanish, and you don’t know me.’ +Then turning to the Englishman, she added: + +“‘I told you so. I saw at once he was a Basque. Now you’ll hear what a +queer language he speaks. Doesn’t he look silly? He’s like a cat that’s +been caught in the larder!’ + +“‘And you,’ said I to her in my own language, ‘you look like an impudent +jade--and I’ve a good mind to scar your face here and now, before your +spark.’ + +“‘My spark!’ said she. ‘Why, you’ve guessed that all alone! Are you +jealous of this idiot? You’re even sillier than you were before our +evening in the _Calle del Candilejo_! Don’t you see, fool, that at this +moment I’m doing gipsy business, and doing it in the most brilliant +manner? This house belongs to me--the guineas of that crayfish will +belong to me! I lead him by the nose, and I’ll lead him to a place that +he’ll never get out of!’ + +“‘And if I catch you doing any gipsy business in this style again, I’ll +see to it that you never do any again!’ said I. + +“‘Ah! upon my word! Are you my _rom_, pray that you give me orders? If +_El Tuerto_ is pleased, what have you to do with it? Oughtn’t you to +be very happy that you are the only man who can call himself my +_minchorro_?’ * + + * My “lover,” or rather my “fancy.” + +“‘What does he say?’ inquired the Englishman. + +“‘He says he’s thirsty, and would like a drink,’ answered Carmen, and +she threw herself back upon a sofa, screaming with laughter at her own +translation. + +“When that girl begins to laugh, sir, it was hopeless for anybody to try +and talk sense. Everybody laughed with her. The big Englishman began to +laugh too, like the idiot he was, and ordered the servant to bring me +something to drink. + +“While I was drinking she said to me: + +“‘Do you see that ring he has on his finger? If you like I’ll give it to +you.’ + +“And I answered: + +“‘I would give one of my fingers to have your _milord_ out on the +mountains, and each of us with a _maquila_ in his fist.’ + +“‘_Maquila_, what does that mean?’ asked the Englishman. + +“‘Maquila,’ said Carmen, still laughing, ‘means an orange. Isn’t it a +queer word for an orange? He says he’d like you to eat _maquila_.’ + +“‘Does he?’ said the Englishman. ‘Very well, bring more _maquila_ +to-morrow.’ + +“While we were talking a servant came in and said dinner was ready. +Then the Englishman stood up, gave me a piastre, and offered his arm +to Carmen, as if she couldn’t have walked alone. Carmen, who was still +laughing, said to me: + +“‘My boy, I can’t ask you to dinner. But to-morrow, as soon as you hear +the drums beat for parade, come here with your oranges. You’ll find a +better furnished room than the one in the _Calle del Candilejo_, and +you’ll see whether I am still your _Carmencita_. Then afterwards we’ll +talk about gipsy business.’ + +“I gave her no answer--even when I was in the street I could hear the +Englishman shouting, ‘Bring more _maquila_ to-morrow,’ and Carmen’s +peals of laughter. + +“I went out, not knowing what I should do; I hardly slept, and next +morning I was so enraged with the treacherous creature that I made up +my mind to leave Gibraltar without seeing her again. But the moment +the drums began to roll, my courage failed me. I took up my net full of +oranges, and hurried off to Carmen’s house. Her window-shutters had been +pulled apart a little, and I saw her great dark eyes watching for me. +The powdered servant showed me in at once. Carmen sent him out with a +message, and as soon as we were alone she burst into one of her fits of +crocodile laughter and threw her arms around my neck. Never had I seen +her look so beautiful. She was dressed out like a queen, and scented; +she had silken furniture, embroidered curtains--and I togged out like +the thief I was! + +“‘_Minchorro_,’ said Carmen, ‘I’ve a good mind to smash up everything +here, set fire to the house, and take myself off to the mountains.’ And +then she would fondle me, and then she would laugh, and she danced about +and tore up her fripperies. Never did monkey gambol nor make such faces, +nor play such wild tricks, as she did that day. When she had recovered +her gravity-- + +“‘Hark!’ she said, ‘this is gipsy business. I mean him to take me to +Ronda, where I have a sister who is a nun’ (here she shrieked with +laughter again). ‘We shall pass by a particular spot which I shall make +known to you. Then you must fall upon him and strip him to the skin. +Your best plan would be to do for him, but,’ she added, with a certain +fiendish smile of hers, which no one who saw it ever had any desire to +imitate, ‘do you know what you had better do? Let _El Tuerto_ come up +in front of you. You keep a little behind. The crayfish is brave, and +skilful too, and he has good pistols. Do you understand?’ + +“And she broke off with another fit of laughter that made me shiver. + +“‘No,’ said I, ‘I hate Garcia, but he’s my comrade. Some day, maybe, +I’ll rid you of him, but we’ll settle our account after the fashion of +my country. It’s only chance that has made me a gipsy, and in certain +things I shall always be a thorough Navarrese,* as the proverb says. + + * _Navarro fino_. + +“‘You’re a fool,’ she rejoined, ‘a simpleton, a regular _payllo_. You’re +just like the dwarf who thinks himself tall because he can spit a long +way.* You don’t love me! Be off with you!’ + + * _Or esorjle de or marsichisle, sin chisnar lachinguel_. + “The promise of a dwarf is that he will spit a long way.”--A + gipsy proverb. + +“Whenever she said to me ‘Be off with you,” I couldn’t go away. I +promised I would start back to my comrades and wait the arrival of the +Englishman. She, on her side, promised she would be ill until she left +Gibraltar for Ronda. + +“I remained at Gibraltar two days longer. She had the boldness to +disguise herself and come and see me at the inn. I departed, I had a +plan of my own. I went back to our meeting-place with the information as +to the spot and the hour at which the Englishman and Carmen were to pass +by. I found _El Dancaire_ and Garcia waiting for me. We spent the night +in a wood, beside a fire made of pine-cones that blazed splendidly. I +suggested to Garcia that we should play cards, and he agreed. In the +second game I told him he was cheating; he began to laugh; I threw the +cards in his face. He tried to get at his blunderbuss. I set my foot on +it, and said, ‘They say you can use a knife as well as the best ruffian +in Malaga; will you try it with me?’ _El Dancaire_ tried to part us. I +had given Garcia one or two cuffs, his rage had given him courage, he +drew his knife, and I drew mine. We both of us told _El Dancaire_ he +must leave us alone, and let us fight it out. He saw there was no means +of stopping us, so he stood on one side. Garcia was already bent double, +like a cat ready to spring upon a mouse. He held his hat in his +left hand to parry with, and his knife in front of him--that’s their +Andalusian guard. I stood up in the Navarrese fashion, with my left arm +raised, my left leg forward, and my knife held straight along my right +thigh. I felt I was stronger than any giant. He flew at me like an +arrow. I turned round on my left foot, so that he found nothing in front +of him. But I thrust him in the throat, and the knife went in so far +that my hand was under his chin. I gave the blade such a twist that it +broke. That was the end. The blade was carried out of the wound by a +gush of blood as thick as my arm, and he fell full length on his face. + +“‘What have you done?’ said _El Dancaire_ to me. + +“‘Hark ye,’ said I, ‘we couldn’t live on together. I love Carmen and I +mean to be the only one. And besides, Garcia was a villain. I remember +what he did to that poor _Remendado_. There are only two of us left now, +but we are both good fellows. Come, will you have me for your friend, +for life or death?’ + +“_El Dancaire_ stretched out his hand. He was a man of fifty. + +“‘Devil take these love stories!’ he cried. ‘If you’d asked him for +Carmen he’d have sold her to you for a piastre! There are only two of us +now--how shall we manage for to-morrow?’ + +“‘I’ll manage it all alone,’ I answered. ‘I can snap my fingers at the +whole world now.’ + +“We buried Garcia, and we moved our camp two hundred paces farther on. +The next morning Carmen and her Englishman came along with two muleteers +and a servant. I said to _El Dancaire_: + +“‘I’ll look after the Englishman, you frighten the others--they’re not +armed!’ + +“The Englishman was a plucky fellow. He’d have killed me if Carmen +hadn’t jogged his elbow. + +“To put it shortly, I won Carmen back that day, and my first words were +to tell her she was a widow. + +“When she knew how it had all happened-- + +“‘You’ll always be a _lillipendi_,’ she said. ‘Garcia ought to have +killed you. Your Navarrese guard is a pack of nonsense, and he has sent +far more skilful men than you into the darkness. It was just that his +time had come--and yours will come too.’ + +“‘Ay, and yours too!--if you’re not a faithful _romi_ to me.’ + +“‘So be it,’ said she. ‘I’ve read in the coffee grounds, more than once, +that you and I were to end our lives together. Pshaw! what must be, will +be!’ and she rattled her castanets, as was her way when she wanted to +drive away some worrying thought. + +“One runs on when one is talking about one’s self. I dare say all these +details bore you, but I shall soon be at the end of my story. Our new +life lasted for some considerable time. _El Dancaire_ and I gathered a +few comrades about us, who were more trustworthy than our earlier ones, +and we turned our attention to smuggling. Occasionally, indeed, I must +confess we stopped travellers on the highways, but never unless we were +at the last extremity, and could not avoid doing so; and besides, we +never ill-treated the travellers, and confined ourselves to taking their +money from them. + +“For some months I was very well satisfied with Carmen. She still served +us in our smuggling operations, by giving us notice of any opportunity +of making a good haul. She remained either at Malaga, at Cordova, or at +Granada, but at a word from me she would leave everything, and come to +meet me at some _venta_ or even in our lonely camp. Only once--it was at +Malaga--she caused me some uneasiness. I heard she had fixed her fancy +upon a very rich merchant, with whom she probably proposed to play her +Gibraltar trick over again. In spite of everything _El Dancaire_ said to +stop me, I started off, walked into Malaga in broad daylight, sought for +Carmen and carried her off instantly. We had a sharp altercation. + +“‘Do you know,’ said she, ‘now that you’re my _rom_ for good and all, I +don’t care for you so much as when you were my _minchorro_! I won’t be +worried, and above all, I won’t be ordered about. I choose to be free to +do as I like. Take care you don’t drive me too far; if you tire me +out, I’ll find some good fellow who’ll serve you just as you served _El +Tuerto_.’ + +“_El Dancaire_ patched it up between us; but we had said things to each +other that rankled in our hearts, and we were not as we had been before. +Shortly after that we had a misfortune: the soldiers caught us, _El +Dancaire_ and two of my comrades were killed; two others were taken. +I was sorely wounded, and, but for my good horse, I should have fallen +into the soldiers’ hands. Half dead with fatigue, and with a bullet in +my body, I sought shelter in a wood, with my only remaining comrade. +When I got off my horse I fainted away, and I thought I was going to +die there in the brushwood, like a shot hare. My comrade carried me to a +cave he knew of, and then he sent to fetch Carmen. + +“She was at Granada, and she hurried to me at once. For a whole +fortnight she never left me for a single instant. She never closed her +eyes; she nursed me with a skill and care such as no woman ever showed +to the man she loved most tenderly. As soon as I could stand on my feet, +she conveyed me with the utmost secrecy to Granada. These gipsy women +find safe shelter everywhere, and I spent more than six weeks in a house +only two doors from that of the _Corregidor_ who was trying to arrest +me. More than once I saw him pass by, from behind the shutter. At last I +recovered, but I had thought a great deal, on my bed of pain, and I had +planned to change my way of life. I suggested to Carmen that we should +leave Spain, and seek an honest livelihood in the New World. She laughed +in my face. + +“‘We were not born to plant cabbages,’ she cried. ‘Our fate is to live +_payllos_! Listen: I’ve arranged a business with Nathan Ben-Joseph at +Gibraltar. He has cotton stuffs that he can not get through till you +come to fetch them. He knows you’re alive, and reckons upon you. What +would our Gibraltar correspondents say if you failed them?’ + +“I let myself by persuaded, and took up my vile trade once more. + +“While I was hiding at Granada there were bull-fights there, to which +Carmen went. When she came back she talked a great deal about a skilful +_picador_ of the name of Lucas. She knew the name of his horse, and how +much his embroidered jacket had cost him. I paid no attention to this; +but a few days later, Juanito, the only one of my comrades who was left, +told me he had seen Carmen with Lucas in a shop in the Zacatin. Then +I began to feel alarmed. I asked Carmen how and why she had made the +_picador’s_ acquaintance. + +“‘He’s a man out of whom we may be able to get something,’ said she. +‘A noisy stream has either water in it or pebbles. He has earned twelve +hundred reals at the bull-fights. It must be one of two things: we +must either have his money, or else, as he is a good rider and a plucky +fellow, we can enroll him in our gang. We have lost such an one an such +an one; you’ll have to replace them. Take this man with you!’ + +“‘I want neither his money nor himself,’ I replied, ‘and I forbid you to +speak to him.’ + +“‘Beware!’ she retorted. ‘If any one defies me to do a thing, it’s very +quickly done.’ + +“Luckily the _picador_ departed to Malaga, and I set about passing in +the Jew’s cotton stuffs. This expedition gave me a great deal to do, and +Carmen as well. I forgot Lucas, and perhaps she forgot him too--for the +moment, at all events. It was just about that time, sir, that I met you, +first at Montilla, and then afterward at Cordova. I won’t talk about +that last interview. You know more about it, perhaps, than I do. Carmen +stole your watch from you, she wanted to have your money besides, and +especially that ring I see on your finger, and which she declared to be +a magic ring, the possession of which was very important to her. We had +a violent quarrel, and I struck her. She turned pale and began to cry. +It was the first time I had ever seen her cry, and it affected me in the +most painful manner. I begged her to forgive me, but she sulked with me +for a whole day, and when I started back to Montilla she wouldn’t kiss +me. My heart was still very sore, when, three days later, she joined me +with a smiling face and as merry as a lark. Everything was forgotten, +and we were like a pair of honeymoon lovers. Just as we were parting she +said, ‘There’s a _fete_ at Cordova; I shall go and see it, and then I +shall know what people will be coming away with money, and I can warn +you.’ + +“I let her go. When I was alone I thought about the _fete_, and about +the change in Carmen’s temper. ‘She must have avenged herself already,’ +said I to myself, ‘since she was the first to make our quarrel up.’ A +peasant told me there was to be bull-fighting at Cordova. Then my blood +began to boil, and I went off like a madman straight to the bull-ring. I +had Lucas pointed out to me, and on the bench, just beside the barrier, +I recognised Carmen. One glance at her was enough to turn my suspicion +into certainty. When the first bull appeared Lucas began, as I had +expected to play the agreeable; he snatched the cockade off the bull and +presented it to Carmen, who put it in her hair at once.* + + * _La divisa_. A knot of ribbon, the colour of which + indicates the pasturage from which each bull comes. This + knot of ribbon is fastened into the bull’s hide with a sort + of hook, and it is considered the very height of gallantry + to snatch it off the living beast and present it to a woman. + +“The bull avenged me. Lucas was knocked down, with his horse on his +chest, and the bull on top of both of them. I looked for Carmen, she had +disappeared from her place already. I couldn’t get out of mine, and I +was obliged to wait until the bull-fight was over. Then I went off to +that house you already know, and waited there quietly all that evening +and part of the night. Toward two o’clock in the morning Carmen came +back, and was rather surprised to see me. + +“‘Come with me,’ said I. + +“‘Very well,’ said she, ‘let’s be off.’ + +“I went and got my horse, and took her up behind me, and we travelled +all the rest of the night without saying a word to each other. When +daylight came we stopped at a lonely inn, not far from a hermitage. +There I said to Carmen: + +“‘Listen--I forget everything, I won’t mention anything to you. But +swear one thing to me--that you’ll come with me to America, and live +there quietly!’ + +“‘No,’ said she, in a sulky voice, ‘I won’t go to America--I am very +well here.’ + +“‘That’s because you’re near Lucas. But be very sure that even if +he gets well now, he won’t make old bones. And, indeed, why should I +quarrel with him? I’m tired of killing all your lovers; I’ll kill you +this time.’ + +“She looked at me steadily with her wild eyes, and then she said: + +“‘I’ve always thought you would kill me. The very first time I saw you I +had just met a priest at the door of my house. And to-night, as we were +going out of Cordova, didn’t you see anything? A hare ran across the +road between your horse’s feet. It is fate.’ + +“‘Carmencita,’ I asked, ‘don’t you love me any more?’ + +“She gave me no answer, she was sitting cross-legged on a mat, making +marks on the ground with her finger. + +“‘Let us change our life, Carmen,’ said I imploringly. ‘Let us go away +and live somewhere we shall never be parted. You know we have a hundred +and twenty gold ounces buried under an oak not far from here, and then +we have more money with Ben-Joseph the Jew.’ + +“She began to smile, and then she said, ‘Me first, and then you. I know +it will happen like that.’ + +“‘Think about it,’ said I. ‘I’ve come to the end of my patience and my +courage. Make up your mind--or else I must make up mine.’ + +“I left her alone and walked toward the hermitage. I found the hermit +praying. I waited till his prayer was finished. I longed to pray myself, +but I couldn’t. When he rose up from his knees I went to him. + +“‘Father,’ I said, ‘will you pray for some one who is in great danger?’ + +“‘I pray for every one who is afflicted,’ he replied. + +“‘Can you say a mass for a soul which is perhaps about to go into the +presence of its Maker?’ + +“‘Yes,’ he answered, looking hard at me. + +“And as there was something strange about me, he tried to make me talk. + +“‘It seems to me that I have seen you somewhere,’ said he. + +“I laid a piastre on his bench. + +“‘When shall you say the mass?’ said I. + +“‘In half an hour. The son of the innkeeper yonder is coming to serve +it. Tell me, young man, haven’t you something on your conscience that is +tormenting you? Will you listen to a Christian’s counsel?’ + +“I could hardly restrain my tears. I told him I would come back, and +hurried away. I went and lay down on the grass until I heard the bell. +Then I went back to the chapel, but I stayed outside it. When he had +said the mass, I went back to the _venta_. I was hoping Carmen would +have fled. She could have taken my horse and ridden away. But I found +her there still. She did not choose that any one should say I had +frightened her. While I had been away she had unfastened the hem of her +gown and taken out the lead that weighted it; and now she was sitting +before a table, looking into a bowl of water into which she had just +thrown the lead she had melted. She was so busy with her spells that at +first she didn’t notice my return. Sometimes she would take out a bit of +lead and turn it round every way with a melancholy look. Sometimes she +would sing one of those magic songs, which invoke the help of Maria +Padella, Don Pedro’s mistress, who is said to have been the _Bari +Crallisa_--the great gipsy queen.* + + * Maria Padella was accused of having bewitched Don Pedro. + According to one popular tradition she presented Queen + Blanche of Bourbon with a golden girdle which, in the eyes + of the bewitched king, took on the appearance of a living + snake. Hence the repugnance he always showed toward the + unhappy princess. + +“‘Carmen,’ I said to her, ‘will you come with me?’ She rose, threw away +her wooden bowl, and put her mantilla over her head ready to start. My +horse was led up, she mounted behind me, and we rode away. + +“After we had gone a little distance I said to her, ‘So, my Carmen, you +are quite ready to follow me, isn’t that so?’ + +“She answered, ‘Yes, I’ll follow you, even to death--but I won’t live +with you any more.’ + +“We had reached a lonely gorge. I stopped my horse. + +“‘Is this the place?’ she said. + +“And with a spring she reached the ground. She took off her mantilla and +threw it at her feet, and stood motionless, with one hand on her hip, +looking at me steadily. + +“‘You mean to kill me, I see that well,’ said she. ‘It is fate. But +you’ll never make me give in.’ + +“I said to her: ‘Be rational, I implore you; listen to me. All the +past is forgotten. Yet you know it is you who have been my ruin--it is +because of you that I am a robber and a murderer. Carmen, my Carmen, let +me save you, and save myself with you.’ + +“‘Jose,’ she answered, ‘what you ask is impossible. I don’t love you +any more. You love me still, and that is why you want to kill me. If +I liked, I might tell you some other lie, but I don’t choose to give +myself the trouble. Everything is over between us two. You are my _rom_, +and you have the right to kill your _romi_, but Carmen will always be +free. A _calli_ she was born, and a _calli_ she’ll die.’ + +“‘Then, you love Lucas?’ I asked. + +“‘Yes, I have loved him--as I loved you--for an instant--less than I +loved you, perhaps. But now I don’t love anything, and I hate myself for +ever having loved you.’ + +“I cast myself at her feet, I seized her hands, I watered them with my +tears, I reminded her of all the happy moments we had spent together, +I offered to continue my brigand’s life, if that would please her. +Everything, sir, everything--I offered her everything if she would only +love me again. + +“She said: + +“‘Love you again? That’s not possible! Live with you? I will not do it!’ + +“I was wild with fury. I drew my knife, I would have had her look +frightened, and sue for mercy--but that woman was a demon. + +“I cried, ‘For the last time I ask you. Will you stay with me?’ + +“‘No! no! no!’ she said, and she stamped her foot. + +“Then she pulled a ring I had given her off her finger, and cast it into +the brushwood. + +“I struck her twice over--I had taken Garcia’s knife, because I had +broken my own. At the second thrust she fell without a sound. It seems +to me that I can still see her great black eyes staring at me. Then they +grew dim and the lids closed. + +“For a good hour I lay there prostrate beside her corpse. Then I +recollected that Carmen had often told me that she would like to lie +buried in a wood. I dug a grave for her with my knife and laid her in +it. I hunted about a long time for her ring, and I found it at last. +I put it into the grave beside her, with a little cross--perhaps I did +wrong. Then I got upon my horse, galloped to Cordova, and gave myself up +at the nearest guard-room. I told them I had killed Carmen, but I would +not tell them where her body was. That hermit was a holy man! He prayed +for her--he said a mass for her soul. Poor child! It’s the _calle_ who +are to blame for having brought her up as they did.” + + + +CHAPTER IV + +Spain is one of the countries in which those nomads, scattered all over +Europe, and known as Bohemians, Gitanas, Gipsies, Ziegeuner, and so +forth, are now to be found in the greatest numbers. Most of these people +live, or rather wander hither and thither, in the southern and eastern +provinces of Spain, in Andalusia, and Estramadura, in the kingdom +of Murcia. There are a great many of them in Catalonia. These last +frequently cross over into France and are to be seen at all our +southern fairs. The men generally call themselves grooms, horse doctors, +mule-clippers; to these trades they add the mending of saucepans and +brass utensils, not to mention smuggling and other illicit practices. +The women tell fortunes, beg, and sell all sorts of drugs, some of which +are innocent, while some are not. The physical characteristics of the +gipsies are more easily distinguished then described, and when you have +known one, you should be able to recognise a member of the race among +a thousand other men. It is by their physiognomy and expression, +especially, that they differ from the other inhabitants of the same +country. Their complexion is exceedingly swarthy, always darker than +that of the race among whom they live. Hence the name of _cale_ (blacks) +which they frequently apply to themselves.* Their eyes, set with a +decided slant, are large, very black, and shaded by long and heavy +lashes. Their glance can only be compared to that of a wild creature. It +is full at once of boldness and shyness, and in this respect their eyes +are a fair indication of their national character, which is cunning, +bold, but with “the natural fear of blows,” like Panurge. Most of the +men are strapping fellows, slight and active. I don’t think I ever saw +a gipsy who had grown fat. In Germany the gipsy women are often very +pretty; but beauty is very uncommon among the Spanish gitanas. When very +young, they may pass as being attractive in their ugliness, but once +they have reached motherhood, they become absolutely repulsive. The +filthiness of both sexes is incredible, and no one who has not seen a +gipsy matron’s hair can form any conception of what it is, not even +if he conjures up the roughest, the greasiest, and the dustiest heads +imaginable. In some of the large Andalusian towns certain of the gipsy +girls, somewhat better looking than their fellows, will take more care +of their personal appearance. These go out and earn money by performing +dances strongly resembling those forbidden at our public balls in +carnival time. An English missionary, Mr. Borrow, the author of two very +interesting works on the Spanish gipsies, whom he undertook to convert +on behalf of the Bible Society, declares there is no instance of any +gitana showing the smallest weakness for a man not belonging to her +own race. The praise he bestows upon their chastity strikes me as being +exceedingly exaggerated. In the first place, the great majority are +in the position of the ugly woman described by Ovid, “_Casta quam nemo +rogavit_.” As for the pretty ones, they are, like all Spanish women, +very fastidious in choosing their lovers. Their fancy must be taken, +and their favour must be earned. Mr. Borrow quotes, in proof of their +virtue, one trait which does honour to his own, and especially to his +simplicity: he declares that an immoral man of his acquaintance offered +several gold ounces to a pretty gitana, and offered them in vain. An +Andalusian, to whom I retailed this anecdote, asserted that the immoral +man in question would have been far more successful if he had shown the +girl two or three piastres, and that to offer gold ounces to a gipsy was +as poor a method of persuasion as to promise a couple of millions to a +tavern wench. However that may be, it is certain that the gitana shows +the most extraordinary devotion to her husband. There is no danger and +no suffering she will not brave, to help him in his need. One of the +names which the gipsies apply to themselves, _Rome_, or “the married +couple,” seems to me a proof of their racial respect for the married +state. Speaking generally, it may be asserted that their chief virtue is +their patriotism--if we may thus describe the fidelity they observe in +all their relations with persons of the same origin as their own, their +readiness to help one another, and the inviolable secrecy which they +keep for each other’s benefit, in all compromising matters. And indeed +something of the same sort may be noticed in all mysterious associations +which are beyond the pale of the law. + + * It has struck me that the German gipsies, though they + thoroughly understand the word _cale_, do not care to be + called by that name. Among themselves they always use the + designation _Romane tchave_. + +Some months ago, I paid a visit to a gipsy tribe in the Vosges country. +In the hut of an old woman, the oldest member of the tribe, I found +a gipsy, in no way related to the family, who was sick of a mortal +disease. The man had left a hospital, where he was well cared for, so +that he might die among his own people. For thirteen weeks he had been +lying in bed in their encampment, and receiving far better treatment +than any of the sons and sons-in-law who shared his shelter. He had a +good bed made of straw and moss, and sheets that were tolerably white, +whereas all the rest of the family, which numbered eleven persons, slept +on planks three feet long. So much for their hospitality. This very same +woman, humane as was her treatment of her guest said to me constantly +before the sick man: “_Singo, singo, homte hi mulo_.” “Soon, soon he +must die!” After all, these people live such miserable lives, that a +reference to the approach of death can have no terrors for them. + +One remarkable feature in the gipsy character is their indifference +about religion. Not that they are strong-minded or sceptical. They +have never made any profession of atheism. Far from that, indeed, the +religion of the country which they inhabit is always theirs; but they +change their religion when they change the country of their residence. +They are equally free from the superstitions which replace religious +feeling in the minds of the vulgar. How, indeed, can superstition exist +among a race which, as a rule, makes its livelihood out of the credulity +of others? Nevertheless, I have remarked a particular horror of touching +a corpse among the Spanish gipsies. Very few of these could be induced +to carry a dead man to his grave, even if they were paid for it. + +I have said that most gipsy women undertake to tell fortunes. They do +this very successfully. But they find a much greater source of profit +in the sale of charms and love-philters. Not only do they supply toads’ +claws to hold fickle hearts, and powdered loadstone to kindle love in +cold ones, but if necessity arises, they can use mighty incantations, +which force the devil to lend them his aid. Last year the following +story was related to me by a Spanish lady. She was walking one day along +the _Calle d’Alcala_, feeling very sad and anxious. A gipsy woman who +was squatting on the pavement called out to her, “My pretty lady, your +lover has played you false!” (It was quite true.) “Shall I get him +back for you?” My readers will imagine with what joy the proposal was +accepted, and how complete was the confidence inspired by a person who +could thus guess the inmost secrets of the heart. As it would have been +impossible to proceed to perform the operations of magic in the most +crowded street in Madrid, a meeting was arranged for the next day. +“Nothing will be easier than to bring back the faithless one to your +feet!” said the gitana. “Do you happen to have a handkerchief, a scarf, +or a mantilla, that he gave you?” A silken scarf was handed her. “Now +sew a piastre into one corner of the scarf with crimson silk--sew half +a piastre into another corner--sew a peseta here--and a two-real piece +there; then, in the middle you must sew a gold coin--a doubloon would be +best.” The doubloon and all the other coins were duly sewn in. “Now give +me the scarf, and I’ll take it to the Campo Santo when midnight strikes. +You come along with me, if you want to see a fine piece of witchcraft. +I promise you shall see the man you love to-morrow!” The gipsy departed +alone for the Campo Santo, since my Spanish friend was too much afraid +of witchcraft to go there with her. I leave my readers to guess whether +my poor forsaken lady ever saw her lover, or her scarf, again. + +In spite of their poverty and the sort of aversion they inspire, the +gipsies are treated with a certain amount of consideration by the more +ignorant folk, and they are very proud of it. They feel themselves to be +a superior race as regards intelligence, and they heartily despise the +people whose hospitality they enjoy. “These Gentiles are so stupid,” + said one of the Vosges gipsies to me, “that there is no credit in taking +them in. The other day a peasant woman called out to me in the street. +I went into her house. Her stove smoked and she asked me to give her a +charm to cure it. First of all I made her give me a good bit of bacon, +and then I began to mumble a few words in _Romany_. ‘You’re a fool,’ I +said, ‘you were born a fool, and you’ll die a fool!’ When I had got near +the door I said to her, in good German, ‘The most certain way of keeping +your stove from smoking is not to light any fire in it!’ and then I took +to my heels.” + +The history of the gipsies is still a problem. We know, indeed, that +their first bands, which were few and far between, appeared in Eastern +Europe towards the beginning of the fifteenth century. But nobody can +tell whence they started, or why they came to Europe, and, what is still +more extraordinary, no one knows how they multiplied, within a short +time, and in so prodigious a fashion, and in several countries, all +very remote from each other. The gipsies themselves have preserved no +tradition whatsoever as to their origin, and though most of them do +speak of Egypt as their original fatherland, that is only because they +have adopted a very ancient fable respecting their race. + +Most of the Orientalists who have studied the gipsy language believe +that the cradle of the race was in India. It appears, in fact, that +many of the roots and grammatical forms of the _Romany_ tongue are to +be found in idioms derived from the Sanskrit. As may be imagined, the +gipsies, during their long wanderings, have adopted many foreign words. +In every _Romany_ dialect a number of Greek words appear. + +At the present day the gipsies have almost as many dialects as there are +separate hordes of their race. Everywhere, they speak the language of +the country they inhabit more easily than their own idiom, which +they seldom use, except with the object of conversing freely before +strangers. A comparison of the dialect of the German gipsies with that +used by the Spanish gipsies, who have held no communication with each +other for several centuries, reveals the existence of a great number of +words common to both. But everywhere the original language is notably +affected, though in different degrees, by its contact with the more +cultivated languages into the use of which the nomads have been forced. +German in one case and Spanish in the other have so modified the +_Romany_ groundwork that it would not be possible for a gipsy from the +Black Forest to converse with one of his Andalusian brothers, although a +few sentences on each side would suffice to convince them that each was +speaking a dialect of the same language. Certain words in very frequent +use are, I believe, common to every dialect. Thus, in every vocabulary +which I have been able to consult, _pani_ means water, _manro_ means +bread, _mas_ stands for meat, and _lon_ for salt. + +The nouns of number are almost the same in every case. The German +dialect seems to me much purer than the Spanish, for it has preserved +numbers of the primitive grammatical forms, whereas the Gitanos have +adopted those of the Castilian tongue. Nevertheless, some words are an +exception, as though to prove that the language was originally common +to all. The preterite of the German dialect is formed by adding _ium_ +to the imperative, which is always the root of the verb. In the +Spanish _Romany_ the verbs are all conjugated on the model of the first +conjugation of the Castilian verbs. From _jamar_, the infinitive of “to +eat,” the regular conjugation should be _jame_, “I have eaten.” From +_lillar_, “to take,” _lille_, “I have taken.” Yet, some old gipsies +say, as an exception, _jayon_ and _lillon_. I am not acquainted with any +other verbs which have preserved this ancient form. + +While I am thus showing off my small acquaintance with the _Romany_ +language, I must notice a few words of French slang which our thieves +have borrowed from the gipsies. From _Les Mysteres de Paris_ honest +folk have learned that the word _chourin_ means “a knife.” This is +pure _Romany_--_tchouri_ is one of the words which is common to every +dialect. Monsieur Vidocq calls a horse _gres_--this again is a gipsy +word--_gras_, _gre_, _graste_, and _gris_. Add to this the word +_romanichel_, by which the gipsies are described in Parisian slang. +This is a corruption of _romane tchave_--“gipsy lads.” But a piece of +etymology of which I am really proud is that of the word _frimousse_, +“face,” “countenance”--a word which every schoolboy uses, or did use, in +my time. Note, in the first place, the Oudin, in his curious dictionary, +published in 1640, wrote the word _firlimouse_. Now in _Romany_, +_firla_, or _fila_, stands for “face,” and has the same meaning--it +is exactly the _os_ of the Latins. The combination of _firlamui_ was +instantly understood by a genuine gipsy, and I believe it to be true to +the spirit of the gipsy language. + +I have surely said enough to give the readers of Carmen a favourable +idea of my _Romany_ studies. I will conclude with the following proverb, +which comes in very appropriately: _En retudi panda nasti abela macha_. +“Between closed lips no fly can pass.” + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 2465 *** |
