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diff --git a/33799.txt b/33799.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..abc5418 --- /dev/null +++ b/33799.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11789 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Blood of the Arena, by Vicente Blasco Ibanez + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Blood of the Arena + +Author: Vicente Blasco Ibanez + +Illustrator: Troy Kinney + Margaret West Kinney + +Translator: Frances Douglas + +Release Date: November 22, 2010 [EBook #33799] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLOOD OF THE ARENA *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images available at The Internet Archive) + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: When the swordsman clasped her hand she looked into his +eyes. "Don't go--come; come!" +[Chapter III]] + + + + +THE BLOOD OF +THE ARENA + +BY + +VICENTE BLASCO IBANEZ + +FROM THE SPANISH, BY FRANCES DOUGLAS + +ILLUSTRATED IN COLOR BY TROY +AND MARGARET WEST KINNEY + +[Illustration: colophon] + +CHICAGO + +A. C. McCLURG & CO. + +1911 + +Copyright + +A. C. McCLURG & CO. + +1911 + +Published November, 1911 + +Entered at Stationers' Hall, London + +W. F. Gall Printing Company + +Chicago + + + + +CONTENTS + + +Chapter Page + + I The Hero and the Public 9 + + II The Matador and the Lady 33 + + III Born for the Bull-ring 64 + + IV At Carmen's Window-grille 80 + + V The Lure of Golden Hair 106 + + VI The Voice of the Siren 126 + + VII The Spanish Wild Beast 153 + +VIII Diamonds in the Ring 178 + + IX Breakfast with the Bandit 195 + + X A Look into the Face of Death 228 + + XI Doctor Ruiz on Tauromachy 256 + + XII Airing the Saints 269 + +XIII The Mastery of Self-preservation 288 + + XIV The Spanish Lilith 307 + + XV Behind the Scenes 328 + + XVI "The Greatest Man in the World" 348 + +XVII The Atonement of Blood 362 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + Page + +When the swordsman clasped her hand she looked +into his eyes. "Don't go--come; come!" Frontispiece + +Gallardo's wedding was a national event. Far into +the night guitars strummed with melancholy plaint.... +Girls, their arms held high, beat the marble +floor with their little feet 96 + +"For me?" asked the bandit in tones of surprise +and wonder. "For me, Senora Marquesa?" 224 + +The animal moved in confusion between the red +cloths, drawing him far away from the swordsman 294 + + + + +THE BLOOD OF THE ARENA + + + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE HERO AND THE PUBLIC + + +JUAN GALLARDO breakfasted early, as he did whenever there was to be a +bull-fight. A slice of roast meat was his only dish. Wine he did not +even touch; the bottle remained unopened before him. He must keep +himself calm. He drank two cups of thick, black coffee, and lighted an +enormous cigar, sitting with his elbows on the table and his chin in his +hands, looking with dreamy eyes at the guests who one by one filled the +dining-room. + +It was a number of years ago, not long after he had been given "the +alternative" in the bull-ring of Madrid, that he came to lodge at a +certain hotel on Alcala Street where his hosts treated him as if he were +one of the family, and the dining-room servants, porters, scullions, and +old waiters adored him as the glory of the establishment. There, too, he +had spent many days wrapped in bandages, in a dense atmosphere heavy +with the smell of iodoform, in consequence of two gorings, but the +unhappy recollection did not weigh upon him. + +In his Southern superstitious mind, exposed to continual danger, he +regarded this hotel as a charmed shelter, and thought that nothing ill +would happen to him while living in it; accidents common to the +profession, rents in his clothing, scratches in his flesh perhaps, but +no last and final fall after the manner of other comrades, the +recollection of whom haunted even his happier hours. + +On the days of the great bull-fights, after the early breakfast, he +enjoyed sitting in the dining-room contemplating the movement of +travellers. They were foreigners, or people from distant provinces, who +passed near with indifferent countenances, and without looking at him; +and then became curious on learning from the servants that the fine +youth with shaven face and black eyes, dressed like a young gentleman, +was Juan Gallardo, by all familiarly called Gallardo, the famous +bull-fighter. Thus were whiled away the long and painful hours before +going to the plaza. + +These moments of uncertainty, in which vague fears emerged from the +depths of his soul, making him doubt himself, were the bitterest in his +professional experience. He would not go out on the street thinking of +the strain of the contest, and of the need of keeping himself rested and +agile; and he could not entertain himself at the table on account of the +necessity of eating a light meal, in order to reach the ring without +disturbance of his digestion. + +He remained at the head of the table, his face between his hands and a +cloud of perfumed smoke before his eyes, turning his gaze from time to +time with a certain fatuousness to look at some ladies who were +contemplating the famous bull-fighter with interest. + +His pride as the idol of the masses made him feel that he could divine +eulogy and flattery in these looks. They thought him smart and elegant. +And, with the instinct of all men accustomed to pose before the public, +forgetting his preoccupation, he sat erect, knocked off with his finger +nails the cigar ashes fallen on his sleeves, and arranged his ring, +which covered the whole joint of one of his fingers with an enormous +diamond surrounded by a nimbus of colors as if its clear liquid depths +burned with magic fire. + +His eyes roved with satisfaction over his person, admiring the suit of +elegant cut, the cap which he wore around the hotel lying on a nearby +chair, the fine gold chain that crossed the upper part of his vest from +pocket to pocket, the pearl in his cravat that seemed to illuminate the +brown tone of his countenance with milky light, and the shoes of Russia +leather showing between their tops and the edge of the rolled-up +trousers socks of open-work silk embroidered like the stockings of a +cocotte. + +An atmosphere of English perfumes, mild and vague, but used with +profusion, arose from his clothing and from his black and brilliant +hair. This he brushed carefully down over his temples, adopting a style +certain to attract feminine curiosity. For a bull-fighter the ensemble +was not bad; he felt satisfied with his appearance. Where was there +another more distinguished, or one who had a better way with women? + +But suddenly his preoccupation returned, the brilliancy of his eyes +clouded, and he rested his chin in his hands again, puffing at his cigar +tenaciously, his gaze lost in the cloud of smoke. He thought wistfully +of the hour of nightfall, wishing it already here; of the return from +the bull-ring, sweaty and tired, but with the joy of danger conquered, +the appetites awakened, a mad desire for sport, and the certainty of a +few days of safety and rest. + +If God would protect him as heretofore he was going to feast with the +appetite of his days of poverty and starvation, get a little drunk, and +go in search of a certain girl who sang in a music-hall, whom he had +seen on his last trip without having a chance to cultivate her +acquaintance. Leading this life of continual change from one end of the +Peninsula to the other he did not have time for much in the way of +pleasure. + +Enthusiastic friends who wished to see the swordsman before going to +breakfast at their homes began entering the dining-room. They were old +admirers anxious to figure in a _banderia_ and to have an idol; they had +made the young Gallardo the _matador_ of their choice, and they gave him +sage counsel, frequently recalling their old-time adoration for +Lagartijo or Frascuelo. + +In addressing Gallardo they called him _thou_, with gracious +familiarity, while he put _don_ before their names with the traditional +class distinction that still exists between the bull-fighter risen from +the social subsoil and his admirers. These men linked their enthusiasm +with memories of the past to make the young _matador_ feel their +superiority of years and experience. They talked of the old plaza of +Madrid where only bulls that _were_ bulls and bull-fighters that _were_ +bull-fighters were recognized. Coming down to the present, they trembled +with emotion on mentioning the Negro, Frascuelo. + +"If thou hadst seen him! But thou and those of thy time were at the +breast then, or were not even born." + +Other enthusiasts began entering the dining-room, poorly clad and +hungry-looking; obscure newspaper reporters; and men of problematical +profession who appeared as soon as the news of Gallardo's arrival was +circulated, besieging him with praises and petitions for tickets. Common +enthusiasm jostled them against great merchants or public functionaries, +who discussed bull-fighting affairs with them warmly, regardless of +their beggarly aspect. + +All, on seeing the swordsman, embraced him or shook his hand with an +accompaniment of questions and exclamations. + +"Juanillo--how goes it with Carmen?" + +"Well, thanks." + +"And how is your mother, Senora Angustias?" + +"Fine, thanks. She's at La Rincona'." + +"And your sister and your little nephews?" + +"As usual, thanks." + +"And that good-for-nothing brother-in-law of yours, how is he?" + +"He's all right--as much of a gabbler as ever." + +"Are there any additions to the family? Any expectations?" + +"No--not even that." + +He made a fingernail crackle between his teeth with a strong negative +expression and then began returning the questions to the new arrivals, +of whose life he knew nothing beyond their inclination for the art of +bull-fighting. + +"And how is your family--all right? Well, glad to hear it. Sit down and +have something." + +Then he inquired about the condition of the bulls that were to be fought +within a few hours, for all these friends had come from the plaza and +from seeing the separation and penning in of the animals; and, with +professional curiosity, he asked news of the Cafe Ingles, a favorite +gathering place of bull-fight fans. + +It was the first bull-fight of the spring season, and Gallardo's +enthusiasts showed great hopes, remembering the glowing accounts in the +newspapers of his recent triumphs in other towns of Spain. He was the +bull-fighter who had the most contracts. Since the Easter _corrida_ in +Seville (the first important one of the taurine year) Gallardo had gone +from plaza to plaza killing bulls. + +When August and September came, he would have to spend his nights on the +train and his afternoons in the rings, without time to rest. His agent +at Seville was almost crazy, so besieged was he by letters and +telegrams, not knowing how to harmonize so many petitions for contracts +with the exigencies of time. The afternoon before he had fought at +Ciudad Real and, still dressed in his spangled costume, he had boarded +the train to reach Madrid by morning. He had spent a wakeful night, only +napping occasionally, crouched in the portion of a seat left him by the +other passengers who crowded close together to give some chance for rest +to this man who was to expose his life on the morrow, and was to afford +them the joy of a tragic emotion without danger to themselves. + +The enthusiasts admired his physical endurance, and the rash daring with +which he threw himself upon the bulls at the moment of killing. + +"We will see what thou art going to do this afternoon," they said with +the fervor of true believers. "The devotees expect a great deal of thee. +Thou wilt win many favors, surely. We shall see if thou dost as well as +at Seville." + +His admirers now began to disperse to go home to breakfast so as to be +able to reach the bull-fight at an early hour. Gallardo, finding himself +alone, was preparing to retire to his room, impelled by the nervous +restlessness that dominated him. A man, leading two children by the +hand, passed through the doorway of the dining-room, paying no attention +to the questions of the servants. He smiled seraphically on seeing the +bull-fighter, and advanced, dragging the little boys, his eyes glued +upon him, taking no thought as to his feet. Gallardo recognized him. + +"How are you, Godfather?" + +And then followed the customary questions regarding the health of the +family. The man turned to his sons, saying gravely: + +"There he is! Are ye not continually asking me about him? Just like he +is in the pictures." + +The two little fellows reverently contemplated the hero whom they had so +often seen in the prints that adorned the rooms of their poor home; he +seemed to them a supernatural being whose heroic deeds and riches were +their greatest marvel as they began to take notice of the things of this +world. + +"Juanillo, kiss thy godfather's hand." + +The smaller of the two boys dashed his red face, freshly scrubbed by his +mother in preparation for this visit, against the swordsman's right +hand. Gallardo patted his head absent-mindedly. It was one of the many +god-children he had throughout Spain. His enthusiastic friends obliged +him to be godfather in baptism to their children, believing thus to +assure them a future. + +To exhibit himself at baptism after baptism was one of the consequences +of his glory. This godchild recalled to his memory the hard times when +he was at the beginning of his career, and he felt a certain gratitude +to the father for the faith he had shown in him in spite of the lack of +it in every one else. + +"And how is business, _compadre_?" asked Gallardo. "Are things going +better?" + +The _aficionado_ made a wry face. He was living, thanks to his +commissions in the barley market, barely living, no more. Gallardo +looked compassionately at his mean dress--a poor man's Sunday best. + +"You want to see the bull-fight, don't you, _compadre_? Go up to my room +and let Garabato give you a ticket. Good-bye, my good fellow. Here, take +this to buy yourselves something." + +As his godson kissed his right hand again, the bull-fighter handed the +boys a couple of _duros_ with his left. The father dragged away his +offspring with expressions of gratitude, not making it clear in his +confusion whether his enthusiasm were for the gift to the children or +for the ticket for the _corrida_ which the swordsman's servant was about +to give him. + +Gallardo allowed a few moments to elapse, so that he would not meet the +enthusiast and his children again in his room. Then he looked at his +watch. One o'clock! How long it was yet before the hour for the +bull-fight! + +As Gallardo walked out of the dining-room and started toward the +stairway a crowd of curiosity-seekers and starvelings hanging around the +street door, attracted by the presence of the bull-fighter, rushed in. +Pushing the servants aside, an irruption of beggars, vagabonds, and +newsboys filed into the vestibule. + +The imps with their bundles of papers under one arm took off their caps, +cheering with lusty familiarity. + +"Gallardo! Hurrah for Gallardo!" + +The most audacious among them grasped his hand and pressed it firmly and +shook it in all directions, anxious to prolong as much as possible this +contact with the great man of the people whose picture they had seen in +the newspapers. Then they rudely invited their companions to participate +in this glory. + +"Shake hands with him! He won't get mad. Why, he's all right." + +They almost knelt before the bull-fighter, so great was their respect +for him. Other curious ones, with unkempt beards, dressed in old clothes +that had once been elegant, moved about the idol in their worn shoes and +held their grimy hats out to him, talking to him in low tones, calling +him _Don_ Juan to differentiate themselves from the enthusiastic and +irreverent mob. As they told him of their misery they solicited alms, or +more audacious, they begged him, in the name of their devotion to the +game, for a ticket for the bull-fight,--with the intention of selling it +immediately. + +Gallardo defended himself, laughing at this avalanche that pushed and +shoved him, the hotel clerks being quite unable to defend him, so awed +were they by the respect that popularity inspires. He searched in all +his pockets till they were empty, distributing silver-pieces blindly +among the greedy, outstretched hands. + +"There's none left now. The coal's all burnt up! Let me alone, +pesterers." + +Pretending to be annoyed by this popularity which really flattered him, +he opened a passage for himself by a push with his strong arms and +escaped by the stairway, running up the steps with the agility of an +athlete, while the servants, no longer restrained by his presence, swept +and pushed the crowd toward the street. + +Gallardo passed the room occupied by Garabato and saw his servant +through the half-opened door bending over valises and boxes getting his +costume ready for the bull-fight. + +Finding himself alone in his room the pleasant excitement caused by the +avalanche of his admirers instantly vanished. The unhappy moments of +these bull-fighting days had come, the trepidation of the last hours +before going to the plaza. Miura bulls and the public of Madrid! The +danger which, when he faced it, seemed to intoxicate him and increase +his boldness, caused him bitter anguish now in his solitude, and seemed +to him something supernatural, awful, on account of its uncertainty. + +He felt crushed, as if suddenly the fatigue of the hideous night before +had fallen upon him. He had a desire to lie down and rest on the bed at +the other end of the room, when again anxiety over what awaited him, +doubtful and mysterious, drove away his drowsiness. + +He strode restlessly up and down the room and lighted another Havana by +the end of the one he had just consumed. + +How would this season which he was about to open in Madrid end for him? +What would his enemies say? How would his professional rivals succeed? +He had killed many Miuras--well, they were bulls like all the others; +but he thought of his comrades who had fallen in the ring, almost all of +them victims of the animals of that stock. Accursed Miuras! It was for a +good reason that he and other swordsmen made out their contracts for a +thousand _pesetas_ more when they had to fight animals of this herd. + +He continued wandering about the room with nervous step. He stopped to +contemplate stupidly well-known objects that were a part of his +equipment; then he let himself fall into an easy chair as if attacked by +sudden weakness. He looked at his watch repeatedly. It was not yet two +o'clock. How the time crept! + +He wished that, as a stimulant for his nerves, the hour for dressing and +going to the ring would come. The people, the noise, the popular +curiosity, the desire to show himself calm and happy in the presence of +the enthusiastic populace, and above all the very nearness of danger, +actual and personal, instantly effaced this anguish of isolation in +which the swordsman, without the aid of external excitement, felt +something akin to fear. + +The need of diverting himself caused him to search in the inside pocket +of his waistcoat. He drew out with his pocket-book a little envelope +which emitted a mild, sweet perfume. Standing by a window through which +the obscure light of an inner courtyard entered, he contemplated the +envelope which had been handed him when he arrived at the hotel, +admiring the fine and genteel elegance of the characters in which the +address was written. + +He drew out the sheet of paper, breathing in its indefinable perfume +with delight. Ah! people of high birth who have travelled widely,--how +they reveal their inimitable superiority, even in the smallest details! + +Gallardo, as though he felt that his person preserved the keen stench of +the misery of his earlier years, perfumed himself with offensive +profusion. His enemies joked about the athletic youth who, by his +excessive use of perfumes, gave the lie to his sex. His admirers smiled +at this weakness, but very often had to turn away their faces, nauseated +by the heavy odors he carried with him. + +A whole perfumery shop accompanied him on his travels, and the most +effeminate essences anointed his body when he descended into the arena +among the dead horses, and foul _debris_ characteristic of the place. +Certain enthusiastic _cocottes_, whom he had met on a trip to the towns +in the south of France, had given him the secret of mixtures and +combinations of strange perfumes; but the fragrance of the +letter--_that_ was like the person of her who had written it--a +mysterious odor, delicate and indefinable, that could not be imitated, +that seemed to emanate from her aristocratic body; it was what he called +"the odor of a lady"! + +He read and re-read the letter with a beaming smile of delight and +pride. It was not a great matter; half a dozen lines--a greeting from +Seville, wishing him good luck in Madrid; anticipated congratulations +for his triumphs. That letter could have gone astray without in the +least compromising the woman who wrote it. "Friend Gallardo" at the +beginning, in elegant lettering that seemed to tickle the bull-fighter's +eyes, and at the end, "Your friend, Sol"; all in a coldly friendly +style, addressing him as _you_, with an amiable tone of superiority as +though the words were not from equal to equal but had descended +mercifully from on high. + +The bull-fighter, gazing at the letter with the adoration which a man of +the people has for caste, though little versed in reading, could not +escape a certain feeling of annoyance, as if he beheld himself +patronized. + +"That baggage," he murmured. "That woman! No one living can break her +pride. Look how she talks to me--_you! you!_--and to me!" + +But happy memories brought a satisfied smile to his lips. This frigid +style was for letters; these were the customs of a great lady; the +precautions of a woman who had travelled over the world. His annoyance +changed to admiration. + +"What that woman doesn't know! And such a cautious creature!" + +And in his smile appeared a professional satisfaction, the pride of the +tamer who, appreciating the strength of the conquered wild beast, extols +his own deed. + +While Gallardo was admiring this letter his servant Garabato came and +went, bringing clothing and boxes which he left on the bed. + +He was a fellow of quiet movements and agile hands, and seemed to take +no notice of the presence of the bull-fighter. For some years he had +accompanied the _diestro_ on all his travels as sword-bearer. He had +commenced in Seville at the same time as Gallardo, serving first as +_capeador_, but the hard blows were reserved for him, while advancement +and glory were for his companion. He was little, dark, and of weak +muscles, and a tortuous and poorly united gash scarred with a whitish +pot-hook his wrinkled, flaccid oldish face. It was from a thrust of a +bull's horn which had left him almost dead in the plaza of a certain +town, and to this atrocious wound others were added that disfigured the +hidden parts of his body. + +By a miracle he escaped with his life from his apprenticeship as a +bull-fighter, and the cruellest part of it all was that the people +laughed at his misfortunes, taking pleasure in seeing him stamped on and +routed by the bulls. Finally his total eclipse took place, and he agreed +to be the attendant, the confidential servant, of his old comrade. He +was Gallardo's most fervent admirer, although he abused the confidence +of intimacy by allowing himself to give advice and to criticise. Had +_he_ been in his master's skin, _he_ would have done better at certain +moments. Gallardo's friends found cause for laughter in the frustrated +ambitions of the sword-bearer, but he paid no attention to their jokes. +Renounce the bulls? Never! And so that the memory of his past should not +be wholly obliterated he combed his coarse hair in shining locks over +his ears and wore on the back of his head the long and sacred great lock +of hair, the _coleta_ of his youthful days, the professional emblem that +distinguished him from common mortals. + +When Gallardo was angry with him his fierce passion always threatened +this capillary adornment. + +"And thou dost wear a _coleta_, shameless one? I'm going to cut that +rat's tail off for thee--brazen-face! _Maleta!_" + +Garabato received these threats with resignation, but he took his +revenge by shutting himself up in the silence of a superior man, +answering the joy of the master with shrugs of his shoulders when the +latter, on returning from the plaza of an afternoon in a happy mood, +asked him with infantile satisfaction: + +"What didst thou think of it? Did I do well, sure?" + +On account of their juvenile comradeship he retained the privilege of +saying _thou_ to his master. He could not talk to the _maestro_ in any +other way, but the _thou_ was accompanied by a grave gesture and an +expression of ingenuous respect. His familiarity was like that of the +ancient shield-bearers to the knights of adventure. + +From his collar up, including the tail on the back of his head, he was a +bull-fighter; the rest of his person resembled a tailor and a valet at +the same time. He dressed in a suit of English cloth, a present from the +_Senor_, wearing the lapels stuck full of pins, and with several +threaded needles on one sleeve. His dry, dark hands possessed a feminine +delicacy for handling and arranging things. + +When he had placed in order all that was necessary for the master's +dressing, he looked over the numerous objects to assure himself that +nothing was lacking. Then he planted himself in the middle of the room +and without looking at Gallardo, as if he were speaking to himself, he +said in a hoarse voice and with a stubborn accent: + +"Two o'clock!" + +Gallardo lifted his head nervously, as if he had not noticed the +presence of his servant until then. He put the letter in his pocket and +went to the lower end of the room with a certain hesitancy, as if he +wished to delay the moment of dressing. + +"Is everything ready?" + +But suddenly his pale face colored with violent emotion. His eyes +opened immeasurably wide as if they had just suffered the shock of a +frightful surprise. + +"What clothes hast thou laid out?" + +Garabato pointed to the bed, but before he could speak the anger of the +_maestro_ fell upon him, loud and terrible. + +"Curses on thee! Dost thou know nothing of the affairs of the +profession? Thou has just come from hay-making, maybe? Bull-fight in +Madrid, with Miura bulls, and thou dost get me out a green costume, the +same that poor Manuel el Espartero wore! My bitterest enemy couldn't do +worse, thou more than shameless one! It seems as if thou wishes to see +me killed, _malaje!_" + +His anger increased as he considered the enormity of this carelessness, +which was like a challenge to ill fortune. To fight in Madrid in a green +costume after what had happened! His eyes flashed with hostile fire as +if he had just received a traitorous attack; the whites of his eyes grew +red, and he seemed about to fall upon poor Garabato with his rough +bull-fighter hands. + +A discreet knock on the door of the room ended this scene. + +"Come in!" + +A young man entered, dressed in light clothes, with a red cravat, and +carrying a Cordovan _sombrero_ in a hand beringed with great brilliants. +Gallardo recognized him instantly, with that gift for remembering faces +possessed by all who live before the public. + +He changed suddenly from anger to smiling amiability as if the visit +were a sweet surprise. It was a friend from Bilbao, an enthusiastic +admirer, a champion of his glory. That was all he could remember. But +his name? He met so many! What could his name be? The only thing he +knew for certain was that he must address him by _thou_, for an old +friendship existed between the two. + +"Sit down! What a surprise! When didst thou come? The family well?" + +And the admirer sat down with the satisfaction of a devotee who enters +the sanctuary of the idol determined not to move until the last instant, +gratifying himself by the attention of the bull-fighter's _thou_, and +calling him _Juan_ at every two words so that furniture, walls, and +whoever might pass along the corridor should know of his intimacy with +the great man. He had arrived from Bilbao this morning and would return +on the following day. He took the trip for no other purpose than to see +Gallardo. He had read of his great exploits; the season was beginning +well; this afternoon would be fine! He had been at the sorting of the +bulls where he had especially noticed a dark beast that would +undoubtedly yield great sport in Gallardo's hands. + +"What costume shall I get out?" interrupted Garabato, with a voice that +seemed even more hoarse with the desire to show himself submissive. + +"The red one, the tobacco-colored, the blue--any one thou wishest." + +Another knock sounded on the door and a new visitor appeared. It was +Doctor Ruiz, the popular physician who for thirty years had been signing +the medical certificates of all the injured and treating every +bull-fighter that fell wounded in the plaza of Madrid. + +Gallardo admired him and regarded him as the highest representative of +universal science, although he indulged in good-natured jokes about his +kindly disposition and his lack of care in his dress. His admiration was +like that of the populace which only recognizes wisdom in a man of ill +appearance and oddity of character that makes him different from +ordinary mortals. + +"He is a saint," Gallardo used to say, "a wise fellow, with wheels in +his head, but as good as good bread, and he never has a _peseta_. He +gives away all he has and he accepts whatever they choose to give him." + +Two grand passions animated the doctor's life, revolution and bulls. A +vague and tremendous revolution was to come that would leave in Europe +nothing now existing; an anarchistic republic which he did not take the +trouble to explain, and as to which he was only clear in his +exterminating negations. The bull-fighters talked to him as to a father. +He spoke as a familiar to all of them, and no more was needed than to +get a telegram from a distant part of the Peninsula, for the good doctor +to take the train on the instant to go to treat the horn-wound received +by one of his _boys_ with no other hope of recompense than whatever they +might freely wish to give him. + +On seeing Gallardo after a long absence he embraced him, pressing his +flabby abdomen against the other's body which seemed made of bronze. +Bravo! He thought the _espada_ looking better than ever. + +"And how is the Republic getting on, doctor? When is it going to +happen?" asked Gallardo with an Andalusian drawl. "Nacional says it's +going to come off soon; that it will be here one of these days." + +"And what does that matter to thee, rogue? Let poor Nacional alone. The +best thing for him to do is to stick in his _banderillas_ better. As for +thee, the only thing that should interest thee is to keep on killing +bulls, like the very God himself. A fine afternoon this is going to be. +They tell me that the bulls--" + +But here the young man who had seen the sorting of the animals and +wished to talk about it, interrupted the doctor to tell of a dark bull +that had caught his eye, and from which he expected the greatest +prowess. The two men, who had remained silent after bowing to one +another, were face to face, and Gallardo thought an introduction +necessary. But what was the name of that friend whom he addressed as +_thou_? He scratched his head, knitting his eyebrows with an effort at +recollection, but his indecision was short. + +"Listen! What is thy name? Pardon, thou seest--with meeting so many +people--" + +The young man concealed beneath a smile of approbation his +disenchantment at seeing himself forgotten by the master, and gave his +name. Gallardo on hearing it felt the past come back suddenly to his +memory, and made reparation for his forgetfulness by adding after the +name, "wealthy miner from Bilbao." Then he presented the "famous Doctor +Ruiz" and both men, as if they had known one another all their lives, +united by the enthusiasm of a common devotion, began to gossip about the +bulls of the afternoon. + +"Sit down." Gallardo motioned to a sofa at the end of the room. "You'll +not be in the way there. Talk and don't notice me. I am going to dress. +I think that, as we're all men--" + +And he took off his clothes, remaining in his under-garments. + +Seated on a chair in the centre of the archway that divided the little +reception room from the sleeping alcove, he gave himself up to the +hands of Garabato, who had opened a bag of Russia-leather and was taking +out of it an almost feminine _necessaire_ for the swordsman's toilet. + +In spite of the fact that the latter was carefully shaved he lathered +his face again and passed the razor over his cheeks with the skill of +one daily accustomed to the task. After washing himself Gallardo +returned to his seat. The servant deluged his hair with brilliantine and +other perfumes, combing it in curls over his forehead and temples; then +he undertook the arrangement of the professional emblem, the sacred +_coleta_. + +With a certain respect he combed the long lock that crowned the occiput +of the _maestro_, braided it and, postponing the completion of the +operation, fixed it on the top of his head with two hairpins, leaving +its final arrangement until later. Now he must occupy himself with the +feet, and he stripped the athlete of his socks, leaving him dressed only +in an undershirt and drawers of silk mesh. + +Gallardo's strong muscles were outlined beneath this clothing in +vigorous protuberances. A hollow in one thigh showed a deep scar where +the flesh had disappeared on account of a horn-stab. Signs of old wounds +were marked by white spots on the brown skin of his arms. His breast, +dark and free from hair, was crossed by two irregular purplish lines, +with a round depression, as if it had served as a mould for a coin. But +his gladiatorial person exhaled an odor of clean brave flesh, mingled +with strong but effeminate perfumes. + +Garabato, with an armful of cotton and white bandages, knelt at the +swordsman's feet. + +"Like the ancient gladiators," said Dr. Ruiz, interrupting his +conversation with the man from Bilbao; "thou hast become a Roman, Juan." + +"Age, doctor," answered Gallardo with a certain melancholy. "We all have +to grow old. When I used to fight bulls and hunger too, I didn't need +this--and I had feet of iron in doing the cape-work." + +Garabato introduced little tufts of cotton between his master's toes; +then he covered the soles and upper part with a layer of this soft +material and, putting on the bandages, began to bind them in tight +spirals, as the ancient mummies are enwrapped. To fasten this +arrangement he took the threaded needles he wore on one sleeve and +carefully sewed the ends of the bandages. + +Gallardo stamped on the floor with his compressed feet, which seemed +firmer inside their soft swathing. Thus encased they felt strong and +agile. The servant then drew on long stockings which reached half way up +his leg; they were thick and flexible like leggings--the only defence of +the legs under the silk of the fighting dress. + +"Be careful about wrinkles. Look out, Garabato, I don't like to wear +pockets!" + +And he stood up to look at himself in the two panels of the mirror, +stooping to pass his hands over his legs and smooth out the wrinkles. +Over the white stockings Garabato drew on others of rose-colored silk. +Then Gallardo thrust his feet into his low shoes, choosing them from +among several pairs that Garabato had put on a trunk, all with white +soles and perfectly new. + +Now the real task of dressing began. The servant handed him his fighting +trousers held by the legs,--tobacco-colored silk with heavy embroideries +of gold on their seams. Gallardo put them on and the thick cords with +gold tassels that closed the knees, congesting the leg with artificial +fulness, hung to his feet. + +Gallardo told his servant to tighten them as much as he could, at the +same time swelling up the muscles of his legs. This operation was one of +the most important. A bull-fighter must wear the _machos_ well +tightened. And Garabato, with deft speed, converted the dangling cords +into little bows. + +The master put on the fine batiste shirt which the servant offered him, +with gatherings on the bosom, soft and transparent as a feminine +garment. Garabato after buttoning it tied the knot of the long cravat +that fell in a red line, dividing the bosom until it was lost in the +waistband of the trousers. + +The most complicated part of the dressing still remained, the _faja_, a +band of silk nearly five yards long, that seemed to fill the whole +apartment, Garabato managing it with the skill of long practice. + +The swordsman walked to the other extreme of the room where his friends +were and put one of the ends around his waist. + +"Come, be very careful!" he said to his servant. "Make the most of thy +little skill." + +Slowly turning on his heels he drew near his servant who held one end of +the belt, thus winding it around his body in regular curves, giving +greater elegance to his waist. Garabato, with rapid movements of his +hands, changed the folds of the band of silk. With some turns the belt +rolled double, with others wide open, and it all adjusted itself to the +bull-fighter's form, smooth as if it were a single piece, without +wrinkles or puffs. Gallardo, scrupulous and fastidious in the +arrangement of his person, stopped his progress in the course of the +rotatory journey to go back two or three times and improve upon the +work. + +"It isn't good," he said with ill-humor. "Damn it all! Be careful +Garabato." + +After many halts Gallardo reached the end with the entire piece of silk +wound around his waist. The skilful servant had sewed and put pins and +safety pins all over his master's body, converting his clothes into one +single piece. To get out of them the bull-fighter would have to resort +to scissors and to others' hands. He could not divest himself of a +single garment until his return to the hotel, unless the bull should +accomplish it for him in the open plaza and they should finish +undressing him in the hospital. + +Gallardo seated himself again and Garabato went about the business of +arranging the queue, taking out the hairpins and adding the _mona_, the +black rosette with streamers which recalled the ancient head-dress of +early bull-fighting times. + +The master, as if he wished to put off the moment of final encasement in +the costume, stretched himself, asked Garabato for the cigar that he had +left on the little night-table, and demanded the time, thinking that all +the clocks were fast. + +"It's early yet. The boys haven't come. I don't like to go to the plaza +early. It makes a fellow tired to be there waiting!" + +A servant of the hotel announced that the carriage with the _cuadrilla_ +had arrived. + +It was time to go. There was no excuse for delaying the moment of +setting forth. He put over his belt the gold-embroidered vest and +outside of this the jacket, a shining garment with enormous embossments, +heavy as armor and resplendent with light as a glowing coal. The silk, +color of tobacco, was only visible on the under side of the arms and in +two triangles on the back. Almost the entire garment disappeared under +the heavy layer of trimmings and gold-embroidered designs forming +flowers with colored stones in their corollas. The shoulder pieces were +heavy masses of gold embroidery from which fell a fringe of the same +metal. The garment was edged with a close fringe that moved at every +step. From the golden opening of the pockets the points of two +handkerchiefs peeped forth, red like the cravat and the tie. + +The cap! + +Garabato took out of an oval box with great care the fighting cap, black +and shining, with two pendent tassels, like ears of passementerie. +Gallardo put it on, taking care that the _coleta_ should remain +unhidden, hanging symmetrically down his back. + +The cape! + +Garabato caught up the cape from off a chair, the _capa de gala_, a +princely mantle of silk of the same shade as the dress and equally +burdened with gold embroidery. Gallardo hung it over one shoulder and +looked at himself in the glass, satisfied with his preparations. It was +not bad. + +"To the plaza!" + +His two friends took their farewells hastily and called a cab to follow +him. Garabato put under one arm a great bundle of red cloths, from the +ends of which peeped the hilts and guards of many swords. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE MATADOR AND THE LADY + + +As Gallardo descended to the vestibule of the hotel he saw the street +filled with a dense and noisy crowd as though some great event had taken +place. The buzzing of the multitude outside the door reached his ears. +The proprietor and all his family appeared with extended hands as if +they would bid him farewell for a long journey. + +"Good luck! May all go well with you!" + +The servants, forgetting distance at the impulse of enthusiasm and +emotion, also held their right hands out to him. + +"Good luck, Don Juan!" + +And he turned in all directions smiling, regardless of the frightened +faces of the ladies of the hotel. + +"Thanks, many thanks! See you later." + +He was a different man. From the moment he had hung the glittering cape +over one shoulder a persistent smile illuminated his countenance. He was +pale, with a sweaty pallor like that of the sick; but he smiled, +satisfied to live and to show himself in public, adopting his new pose +with the instinctive freedom of one who but needs an incentive to parade +before the people. + +He swaggered with arrogance, puffing occasionally at the cigar he +carried in his left hand. He moved his hips haughtily under his handsome +cape and strode with a firm step and with the flippancy of a gay youth. + +"Come, gentlemen, make way! Many thanks; many thanks." + +And he tried to preserve his dress from unclean contact as way was made +among an ill-clad, enthusiastic crowd which surged against the doors of +the hotel. They had no money with which to go to the bull-fight but they +took advantage of the opportunity of pressing the hand of the famous +Gallardo, or of at least touching his garments. + +A coach drawn by four richly caparisoned mules with tassels and bells +stood waiting at the door. Garabato had already seated himself on the +box with his bundle of _muletas_ and swords. Three bull-fighters were +inside with their capes over their knees, dressed in gayly colored +clothes embroidered with as great profusion as the master's, but in +silver. + +Pressed onward by the popular ovation, and having to defend himself with +his elbows from greedy hands, Gallardo reached the carriage-step. + +"Good-afternoon, gentlemen," he said shortly to the men of his +_cuadrilla_. + +He seated himself at the back so that all could see him, and smiled with +responsive nods to the shouts of some ragged women and to the short +applause begun by some newsboys. + +The carriage started with all the impetus of the spirited mules, filling +the street with gay ringing. The mob parted to give passage but many +rushed at the carriage as though they would fall under its wheels. Hats +and canes were waved; an explosion of enthusiasm burst from the crowd, +one of those contagions that agitate and madden the masses at certain +times--making every one shout without knowing why. + +"Hurrah for the brave! _Viva Espana!_" + +Gallardo, ever pale and smiling, saluted, repeating "many thanks," moved +by the contagion of popular enthusiasm and proud of his standing which +united his name to that of his native land. + +A troop of dishevelled youngsters ran after the coach at full speed, as +though convinced that, at the end of the mad race, something +extraordinary surely awaited them. + +For at least an hour Alcala Street had been like a river of carriages +that flowed toward the outskirts of the city between two banks of +close-packed foot passengers. All kinds of vehicles, ancient and modern, +figured in this tumultuous and noisy emigration, from the ancient +diligence, brought to light like an anachronism, to the automobile. +Crowded tramways passed with groups of people overflowing on their +steps. Omnibuses carried people to the corner of Seville Street, while +the conductor shouted "To the plaza! To the plaza!" Tasselled mules with +jingling bells trotted ahead of open carriages in which rode women in +white _mantillas_ with bright flowers in their hair; every instant +exclamations of alarm were heard at the escape, by apelike agility, of +some boy beneath the wheels of a carriage as he crossed by leaps from +one sidewalk to the other defying the current of vehicles. Automobile +horns tooted; coachmen yelled; newsboys shouted the page with the +picture and history of the bulls that were to be fought, or the likeness +and biography of the famous _matadores_, and from time to time an +explosion of curiosity swelled the deafening roar of the crowd. + +Among the dark steeds of the mounted police rode gayly dressed +_caballeros_ with their legs rigidly encased in yellow leggings, +wearing gilded jackets and beaver hats with heavy tassels in lieu of a +cockade, mounted on thin and miserable hacks. They were the _picadores_. +Aft on the crupper, behind the high Moorish saddle, rode an impish +figure dressed in red, the _mono sabio_, or servant who had brought the +troop of horses to their hostelry. + +The _cuadrillas_ passed in open coaches, and the embroidery of the +bull-fighters, reflecting the afternoon light, seemed to dazzle the +crowd and excite its enthusiasm. "That is Fuentes!" "That is Bomba!" And +the people, pleased with the identification, followed the retreating +carriages with greedy stare as if something startling were going to +happen and they feared to be too late. + +From the top of the hill on Alcala Street the broad straight road shone +white in the sun, with its rows of trees turning green at the breath of +spring, the balconies black with people, and the highway only visible at +intervals beneath the ant-like movement of the crowd and the rolling of +the coaches descending to the Fountain of Cibeles. Here the hill rose +again amid groves and tall buildings and the Puerta de Alcala closed the +perspective like a triumphal arch, rearing its perforated white mass +against the blue space in which flecks of clouds floated like solitary +swans. + +Gallardo rode in silence, responding to the multitude with a fixed +smile. Since his greeting to the _banderilleros_ he had not spoken a +word. They were also silent and pale with anxiety over the unknown. +Being all bull-fighters together, they put aside as useless the +gallantries necessary before the public. + +A mysterious influence seemed to tell the crowd of the passing of the +last _cuadrilla_ that wound its way to the plaza. The vagabonds that ran +behind the coach shouting after Gallardo had been outstripped and the +group scattered among the carriages, but in spite of this the people +turned their heads as if they divined the proximity of the celebrated +bull-fighter behind them and they stopped, lining up against the edge of +the sidewalk to see him better. + +The women in the coaches in advance turned their heads, attracted by the +jingling bells of the trotting mules. An indescribable roar rose from +certain groups that barred the passage along the sidewalks. There were +enthusiastic exclamations. Some waved their hats; others lifted canes +and swung them in salutation. + +Gallardo responded to all with grinning smile but in his preoccupation +he seemed to take small account of these greetings. At his side rode +Nacional, his confidential servant, a _banderillero_, older than himself +by ten years, a rugged, strong man with brows grown together and a grave +visage. He was famous among the men of the profession for his good +nature, his manliness, and his political enthusiasms. + +"Juan--don't complain of Madri'," said Nacional; "thou art made with the +public." + +But Gallardo, as if he did not hear him and as if he wished to get away +from the thoughts that occupied him, answered: + +"I feel it in my heart that something's going to happen this afternoon." + +When they arrived at Cibeles the coach stopped. A great funeral was +coming along the Prado from the Castellana, cutting through the +avalanche of carriages from Alcala Street. + +Gallardo turned paler, contemplating with angry eyes the passing of the +cross and the defile of the priests who broke into a grave chant as they +gazed, some with aversion, others with envy, at that God-forgotten +multitude running after amusement. + +Gallardo made haste to take off his cap, in which he was imitated by all +his _banderilleros_ except Nacional. + +"But damn it!" yelled Gallardo, "uncover, _condenao_!" + +He looked furious, as though he would strike him, convinced by some +confused intuition that this rebellion would cause the most terrible +misfortune to befall him. + +"Well, I take it off," said Nacional with the ill grace of a thwarted +child, as he saw the cross pass on, "I take it off, but it is to the +dead." + +They were detained some time to let the long _cortege_ pass. + +"Bad sign!" muttered Gallardo in a voice trembling with anger. "Whoever +would have thought of bringing a funeral along the road to the plaza? +Damn it! I say something's going to happen to-day!" + +Nacional smiled, shrugging his shoulders. + +"Superstitions and fanaticisms! Neither God nor Nature bothers over +these things." + +These words, which irritated Gallardo still more, caused the grave +preoccupation of the other bull-fighters to vanish, and they began to +joke about their companion as they did on all occasions when he dragged +in his favorite expression of "God or Nature." + +When the road was clear the carriage began to move at the full speed of +the mules, crowding along with the other vehicles that flowed to the +plaza. Arrived there it turned to the left toward the gate of the +stables that led to the enclosures and stalls, obliged to move now at +slower pace among the dense crowd. Another ovation to Gallardo when he +descended from the coach followed by his _banderilleros_; blows and +pushes to keep his dress from unclean contact; smiles of greeting; +concealment of the right hand which all wished to press. + +"Make way, gentlemen! many thanks!" + +The large enclosure between the body of the plaza and the walls of the +outbuildings was full of the curious who wished to see the bull-fighters +at close range before taking their seats. Above the heads of the crowd +emerged the _picadores_ and guards on horseback in their seventeenth +century dress. At one side of the enclosure rose one-story brick +buildings with vines over the doors and pots of flowers in the windows, +a small community of offices, shops, stables, and houses in which lived +the stable boys, the carpenters, and other employees of the bull-ring. + +The _matador_ pressed forward laboriously among the assemblage. His name +passed from mouth to mouth with exclamations of enthusiasm. + +"Gallardo! Here is Gallardo! Hurrah! _Viva Espana_!" + +And he, wholly preoccupied by the adoration of the public, advanced +swaggering, serene as a god, happy and satisfied, as if he were +assisting at a feast in his honor. + +Suddenly two arms encircled his neck, and a strong stench of wine +assailed his nostrils. + +"You smasher of women's hearts! You glorious one! Hurrah for Gallardo!" + +It was a man of decent appearance; he rested his head on the +swordsman's shoulder and thus remained as though falling asleep in spite +of his enthusiasm. Gallardo's pushing, and the pulling of his friends, +freed the bull-fighter from this interminable embrace. The drunken man, +finding himself separated from his idol, broke out in shouts of +enthusiasm. "Hurrah! Let all the nations of the world come to admire +bull-fighters like this one and die of envy! They may have ships, they +may have money, but that's trivial! They have neither bulls nor youths +like this--no one to outstrip him in bravery. Hurrah, my boy! _Viva mi +tierra_!" + +Gallardo crossed a great white washed hall bare of furniture where his +professional companions stood surrounded by enthusiastic groups. Way was +immediately made among the crowd which obstructed a door, and he passed +through it into a narrow, dark room, at the end of which shone the +lights of the chapel. An ancient painting representing the Virgin of the +Dove hung over the back of the altar. Four candles were burning before +it and branches of moth-eaten cloth flowers in vases of common +earthenware were falling to dust. + +The chapel was full of people. The devotees of the humbler classes +crowded in to see the great men close by. They remained in the dimness +with uncovered head; some crowded into the foremost ranks, others stood +on chairs and benches, the majority of them with their backs to the +Virgin and looking greedily toward the door, ready to shout a name the +instant they discerned the glitter of a spangled costume. + +The _banderilleros_ and _picadores_, poor devils who were going to +expose their lives as much as were the _maestros_, scarcely raised the +slightest murmur by their presence. Only the most fervent enthusiasts +recognized their nicknames. + +Suddenly a prolonged buzzing, a name repeated from mouth to mouth: + +"Fuentes!--That is Fuentes!" + +And this elegant bull-fighter with his air of gentility and his cape +over his shoulder advanced to the altar and bent one knee with +theatrical arrogance, his gypsy-like eyes reflecting the lights and his +graceful and agile body thrown back as he looked upward. As soon as his +prayer was said and he had made the sign of the cross he rose, walking +backwards toward the door without losing sight of the image, like a +singer who retires bowing to the audience. + +Gallardo was more simple in his devotions. He entered swaggering with no +less arrogance, cap in hand and his cape folded, but on finding himself +in the presence of the image he fell on both knees and gave himself up +to prayer, unconscious of the hundreds of eyes fixed on him. His simple +Christian soul trembled with fear and remorse. He asked protection with +the fervor of ingenuous men who live in continual danger and believe in +all kinds of adverse influences and in supernatural protection. + +For the first time during the whole exciting day he thought of his wife +and mother. Poor Carmen, there in Seville awaiting the telegram! Senora +Angustias, happy with her chickens at the farm of La Rinconada, without +knowing for a certainty in what place her son fought the bulls to-day! +And he with the terrible presentiment that this afternoon something was +going to happen! Virgin of the Dove! Some little protection! He would +be good, he would forget the _other one_, he would live as God commands. + +And with his superstitious spirit strengthened with this vain +repentance, he left the chapel with troubled eyes, still deeply stirred +and heedless of the people who obstructed the way. + +Outside in the room where the bull-fighters were waiting, a shaven-faced +man, dressed in a black habit which he seemed to wear with a certain +slovenliness, greeted him. + +"Bad sign!" murmured the bull-fighter, continuing on his way. "When I +say that something is going to happen to-day--" + +The black-robed man was the chaplain of the plaza, an enthusiast in the +art of bull-fighting, who had come with the Holy Oils beneath his habit. +He was accompanied by a neighbor who served him as sacristan in exchange +for a seat to see the bull-fight. On bull-fight days he hired a +carriage, which the management paid for, and he chose by turns among his +friends and _proteges_ one on whom to confer the favor of the seat +destined for the sacristan, beside his own in the front row near the +doors of the bull-pen. + +The priest entered the chapel with a proprietary air, scandalized at the +behavior of the congregation; all had their hats off, but were talking +in a loud voice and some were even smoking. + +"Gentlemen, this is not a _cafe_. Be so kind as to go out. The +bull-fight is going to begin." + +This news caused a dispersion, while the priest took out the hidden Holy +Oils and placed them in a box of painted wood. Then he too, as soon as +he had secreted the sacred articles, ran out to take his place in the +plaza before the appearance of the _cuadrilla_. + +The crowd had disappeared. No one was to be seen in the enclosure but +men dressed in silk and embroidery, yellow horsemen with great beaver +hats, guards on horseback, and the assistants in their suits of gold and +blue. + +The bull-fighters formed with customary promptness before the horses' +gate beneath an arch that gave exit to the plaza, the _maestros_ at the +front, then the _banderilleros_ keeping far apart, and behind them, in +the enclosure itself, stamped the sturdy rough squadron of the +_picadores_, smelling of burnt hide and dung, mounted on skeleton-like +horses with one eye bandaged. As rearguard of this army the teams of +mules intended for dragging out the slaughtered bulls fretted behind +them; they were restless, vigorous animals with shining coats, covered +with trappings of tassels and bells, and wore on their collars the +waving national flag. + +Beyond the arch, above the wooden gates which half obstructed it, opened +a narrow space, leaving visible a portion of the sky, the tiled roof of +the plaza, and a section of seats with the compact multitude swarming +like ants, amid which fans and papers seemed to flutter like gayly +colored mosquitoes. Through this gallery entered a strong breeze--the +respiration of an immense lung. An harmonious humming was borne on the +undulations of the air, making certain distant music felt, rather +divined than heard. + +About the archway peeped heads, many heads; those of the spectators on +the nearby benches were thrust forward, curious to see the heroes +without delay. + +Gallardo arranged himself in line with the other bull-fighters, who +exchanged among themselves grave inclinations of the head. They did not +speak; they did not smile. Each one thought of himself, letting his +imagination fly far away; or he thought of nothing, lost in that +intellectual void produced by emotion. They occupied themselves with a +ceaseless arranging of the cape, throwing it loosely over the shoulder, +rolling its ends about the waist, and trying to make their legs, encased +in silk and gold, show agile and brave under this gorgeous funnel. Every +face was pale, not with a deathly pallor, but brilliant and livid, with +the sweaty gloss of emotion. They thought of the arena, still unseen, +experiencing that irresistible terror of events that take place on the +other side of a wall, that fear of the hidden, the unknown danger that +makes itself felt though invisible. How would the afternoon end? + +Behind the _cuadrillas_ sounded the trotting of the horses that entered +through the outer arcades of the plaza. They bore the constables with +their long black cloaks and bell-shaped hats decorated with red and +yellow feathers. They had just cleared the ring, emptying it of the +curious, and they came to put themselves at the head of the +_cuadrillas_, serving them as advance guards. + +The doors of the archway and those of the barrier wall opposite opened +wide. The great ring appeared, the real plaza, the circular space of +sand where the tragedy of the afternoon was to be enacted for the +excitement and entertainment of fourteen thousand souls. The harmonious +and confused buzzing increased, developing into gay and bizarre music, a +triumphal march of sounding brass that caused arms to swing martially +and hips to swagger. Forward, ye brave! + +And the bull-fighters, winking at the violent transition, passed from +the shadow to the light, from the silence of the quiet gallery to the +roar of the ring on whose surrounding seats surged the crowd in waves of +curiosity, rising to their feet to see to better advantage. + +The _toreros_ advanced, seeming suddenly to diminish in size in +comparison to the length of the perspective as they trod the arena. They +resembled brilliant little puppets, whose embroideries caught rainbow +reflections from the sun. Their graceful movements fired the people with +an enthusiasm like to that of the child in the presence of a wonderful +toy. The mad gust that stirred the crowds, causing their nerves to +tingle and their flesh to creep, they knew not why, moved the whole +plaza. + +The people applauded, the more enthusiastic and nervous yelled, the +music rumbled and, in the midst of this outburst which spread in every +direction, from the door of the exit to the president's box, the +_cuadrillas_ advanced with solemn pace, the graceful movements of arms +and bodies compensating for the shortness of step. In the ring of blue +ether overhanging above the plaza white doves were winging as if +frightened by the roar that escaped from this crater of brick. + +The athletes felt themselves different men as they advanced across the +arena. They exposed their lives for something more than money. Their +uncertainty and terror in the presence of the unknown were left behind +those barriers; now they were before the public; they faced reality. And +the thirst for glory in their barbarous and simple souls, the desire to +outstrip their comrades, their pride of strength and skill, blinded +them, made them forget fear and filled them with a brutal courage. + +Gallardo had become transfigured. He walked erect, aspiring to be +taller; he moved with the arrogance of a conqueror. He gazed in all +directions with a triumphant air, as though his two companions did not +exist. Everything was his; the plaza and the public. He felt himself +capable of killing every bull that roamed the pastures of Andalusia and +Castile. All the applause was for him, he was sure of it. The thousands +of feminine eyes shaded by white _mantillas_ in boxes and benches, dwelt +only on his person. He had no doubt of it. The public adored him and, as +he advanced, smiling flippantly, as though the entire ovation were +directed to his person, he looked along the rows of seats on the rising +tiers knowing where the greater number of his partisans were grouped and +seeming to ignore those sections where his rivals' friends were +assembled. + +They saluted the president, cap in hand, and the brilliant defile broke +up, lackeys and horsemen scattering about the arena. Then, while a guard +caught in his hat the key thrown by the president, Gallardo turned +toward the rows of seats where sat his greatest admirers and handed them +his glittering cape to keep for him. The handsome garment, grasped by +many hands, was spread over the wall as though it were a banner, a +sacred symbol of loyalty. + +The most enthusiastic partisans stood waving hands and canes, greeting +the _matador_ with shouts manifesting their expectations. "Let the boy +from Seville show what he can do!" + +And he, leaning against the barrier, smiling, sure of his strength, +answered, "Many thanks. What can be done will be done." + +Not only were his admirers hopeful of him, but all the people fixed +their attention upon him in a state of great excitement. He was a +bull-fighter who seemed likely to meet with a catastrophe some day, and +the sort of catastrophe which called for a bed in the hospital. + +Every one believed he was destined to die in the plaza as the result of +a horn-stab, and this very belief caused them to applaud him with +homicidal enthusiasm, with barbaric interest like that of the +misanthrope who follows an animal tamer from place to place, expecting +every moment to see him devoured by his wild beasts. + +Gallardo laughed at the old professors of tauromachy who consider a +mishap impossible as long as the bull-fighter sticks to the rules of the +art. Rules! He knew them not and did not trouble himself to learn them. +Valor and audacity were all that were necessary to win. And, almost +blindly, without other guide than his temerity, or other support than +that of his physical faculties, he had risen rapidly, astonishing the +public into paroxysms, stupefying it with wonder by his mad daring. + +He had not climbed up, step by step, as had other _matadores_, serving +long years first as _peon_ and _banderillero_ at the side of the +_maestros_. He had never known fear of a bull's horns. "Hunger stabs +worse." He had risen suddenly and the public had seen him begin as +_espada_, achieving immense popularity in a few years. + +They admired him for the reason that they held his misfortune a +certainty. He fired the public with devilish enthusiasm for the blind +way in which he defied Death. They gave him the same attention and care +that they would give a criminal preparing for eternity. This +bull-fighter was not one of those who held power in reserve; he gave +everything, his life included. It was worth the money it cost. And the +multitude, with the bestiality of those who witness danger from a point +of safety, admired and urged the hero on. The prudent made wry faces at +his deeds; they thought him a predestined suicide, shielded by luck, and +murmured, "While he lasts!" + +Drums and trumpets sounded and the first bull entered. Gallardo, with +his plain working-cape over one arm, remained near the barrier close to +the ranks of his partisans, in disdainful immobility, believing that the +whole plaza had their eyes glued on him. That bull was for some one +else. He would show signs of existence when his arrived. But the +applause for the skilful cape-work of his companions brought him out of +his quiet, and in spite of his intention he went at the bull, achieving +several feats due more to audacity than to skill. The whole plaza +applauded him, moved by predisposition in his favor because of his +daring. + +When Fuentes killed the first bull and walked toward the president's +box, bowing to the multitude, Gallardo turned paler, as though all show +of favor that was not for him was equivalent to ignominious oblivion. +Now his turn was coming; great things were going to be seen. He did not +know for a certainty what they might be but he was going to astound the +public. + +Scarcely had the second bull appeared when Gallardo, by his activity and +his desire to shine, seemed to fill the whole plaza. His cape was ever +near the bull's nose. A picador of his cuadrilla, the one called Potaje, +was thrown from his horse and lay unprotected near the horns, but the +maestro, grabbing the beast's tail, pulled with herculean strength and +made him turn till the horseman was safe. The public applauded, wild +with enthusiasm. + +When the time for placing the _banderillas_ arrived, Gallardo stood +between the inner and outer barrier awaiting the bugle signal to kill. +Nacional, with the _banderilla_ in his hand, attracted the bull to the +centre of the plaza. No grace nor audacity was in his bearing; it was +merely a question of earning bread. Away in Seville were four small +children who, if he were to die, would not find another father. To +fulfil his duty and nothing more; only to throw his _banderillas_ like a +journeyman of tauromachy, without desire for ovations and merely well +enough to avoid being hissed! + +When he had placed the first pair, some of the spectators in the vast +circle applauded, and others bantered the _banderillero_ in a waggish +tone, alluding to his hobbies. + +"Less politics, and get closer!" + +And Nacional, deceived by the distance, on hearing these shouts answered +smiling, like his master: + +"Many thanks; many thanks." + +When Gallardo leaped anew into the arena at the sound of the trumpets +and drums which announced the last play, the multitude stirred with a +buzzing of emotion. This _matador_ was its own. Now they were going to +see something great. + +He took the _muleta_ from the hands of Garabato, who offered it folded +as he came inside the walls; he grasped the sword which his servant also +presented to him, and with short steps walked over and stood in front of +the president's box carrying his cap in his hand. All craned their +necks, devouring the idol with their eyes, but no one heard his speech. +The arrogant, slender figure, the body thrown back to give greater force +to his words, produced on the multitude the same effect as the most +eloquent address. As he ended his peroration with a half turn, throwing +his cap on the ground, enthusiasm broke out long and loud. Hurrah for +the boy from Seville! Now they were to see the real thing! And the +spectators looked at each other mutely, anticipating stupendous events. +A tremor ran along the rows of seats as though they were in the presence +of something sublime. + +The profound silence produced by great emotions fell suddenly upon the +multitude as though the plaza had been emptied. The life of so many +thousands of persons was condensed into their eyes. No one seemed to +breathe. + +Gallardo advanced slowly toward the bull holding the _muleta_ across his +body like a banner, and waving his sword in his other hand with a +pendulum-like movement that kept time with his step. + +Turning his head an instant he saw that Nacional with another member of +his _cuadrilla_ was following to assist him, his cape over his arm. + +"Stand aside, everybody!" + +A voice rang out in the silence of the plaza making itself heard even to +the farthest seats, and a burst of admiration answered it. "Stand aside, +everybody!" He had said, "Stand aside, everybody!" What a man! + +He walked up to the beast absolutely alone, and instantly silence fell +again. He calmly readjusted the red flag on the stick, extended it, and +advanced thus a few steps until he almost touched the nose of the bull, +which stood stupefied and terrified by the audacity of the man. + +The public dared not speak nor even breathe but admiration shone in +their eyes. What a youth! He walked in between the very horns! He +stamped the ground impatiently with one foot, inciting the beast to +attack, and that enormous mass of flesh, defended by sharp horns fell +bellowing upon him. The _muleta_ passed over his horns, which grazed the +tassels and fringes of the dress of the bull-fighter standing firm in +his place, with no other movement than a backward bending of his body. A +shout from the crowd answered this whirl of the _muleta_. Hurrah! + +The infuriated beast returned; he re-attacked the man with the "rag," +who repeated the pass, with the same roar from the public. The bull, +made more and more furious by the deception, attacked the athlete who +continued whirling the red flag within a short distance, fired by the +proximity of danger and the wondering exclamations of the crowd that +seemed to intoxicate him. + +Gallardo felt the animal snort upon him; the moist vapor from its muzzle +wet his right hand and his face. Grown familiar by contact he looked +upon the brute as a good friend who was going to let himself be killed +to contribute to his glory. + +The bull stood motionless for some seconds as if tired of this play, +gazing with hazy eyes at the man and at the red scarf, suspecting in his +obscure mind the existence of a trick which with attack after attack was +drawing him toward death. + +Gallardo felt the presentiment of his happiest successes. Now! He rolled +the flag with a circular movement of his left hand around the staff and +he raised his right hand to the height of his eyes, standing with the +sword pointing towards the neck of the beast. + +The crowd was stirred by a movement of protest and horror. + +"Don't strike yet," shouted thousands of voices. "No, no!" + +It was too soon. The bull was not in good position; he would make a +lunge and catch him. But Gallardo moved regardless of all rules of the +art. What did either rules or life matter to that desperate man? + +Suddenly he threw himself forward with his sword held before him, at the +same time that the wild beast fell upon him. It was a brutal, savage +encounter. For an instant man and beast formed a single mass and thus +moved together several paces, no one knowing which was the conqueror, +the man with an arm and part of his body lying between the two horns, or +the beast lowering his head and trying to seize with his defences the +puppet of gold and colors which seemed to be slipping away from him. + +At last the group parted, the _muleta_ lay on the ground like a rag, and +the bull-fighter, his hands free, went staggering back from the impulse +of the shock until he recovered his equilibrium a few steps away. His +clothing was in disorder; his cravat floated outside his vest, gored and +torn by one of the horns. + +The bull raced on impelled by the momentum of his start. Above his broad +neck the red hilt of the sword embedded to the cross scarcely protruded. +Suddenly the animal paused, shuddering with a painful movement of +obeisance, doubled his fore legs, inclined his head till his bellowing +muzzle touched the sand, and finished by lying down with shudders of +agony. + +It seemed as if the very building would fall, as if the bricks dashed +against one another, as if the multitude was about to fly +panic-stricken, by the way it rose to its feet, pale, tremulous, +gesticulating and throwing its arms. Dead! What a stroke! Every one had +believed for a second that the _matador_ was caught on the horns. All +had felt sure they would see him fall upon the sand stained with blood +and, as they beheld him standing up still giddy from the shock but +smiling, surprise and amazement augmented the enthusiasm. + +"How fierce!" they shouted from the tiers of seats, not finding a more +fitting word to express their astonishment--" How rash!" + +Hats flew into the arena and a deafening roar of applause, like a shower +of hail, ran from row to row of seats as the _matador_ advanced around +the ring until he stood in front of the president's box. + +The ovation burst out clamorously when Gallardo, extending his arms, +saluted the president. All shouted, demanding for the swordsman the +honors due to mastery. They must give him the ear. Never was this +distinction so merited; few sword-thrusts like that had ever been seen; +and the enthusiasm increased when a _mozo_ of the plaza handed him a +dark triangle, hairy and blood-stained--the point of one of the beast's +ears. + +The third bull was now in the ring, but the ovation to Gallardo +continued as though the public had not yet recovered from its amazement; +as though all that might occur during the rest of the bull-fight would +be tame in comparison. + +The other bull-fighters, pale with professional envy, strove valiantly +to attract the attention of the public. Applause was given, but it was +weak and faint after the former ovations. The public was exhausted by +the delirium of its enthusiasm and heeded absent-mindedly the events +that took place in the ring. Fiery discussions broke out and ran from +tier to tier. The adherents of other bull-fighters, serene and unmoved +by the transports that had overcome the people, took advantage of the +spontaneous movement, to turn the discussion upon Gallardo. Very +valiant, very daring, a suicide, they said, but that was not art. And +the vehement adherents of the idol, proud of his audacity and carried +away by their own feelings, became indignant like the believer who sees +the miracles of his favorite saint held in doubt. + +The attention of the public was diverted by incidents that disturbed the +people on some of the tiers of seats. Suddenly those in one section +moved; the spectators rose to their feet, turning their backs to the +ring; arms and canes whirled above their heads. The rest of the crowd +ceased looking at the arena, directing their attention to the seat of +trouble and to the large numbers, painted on the inner wall, that marked +the different sections of the amphitheatre. + +"Fight in the third!" they yelled joyfully. "Now there's a row in the +fifth!" + +Following the contagious impulse of the crowd, all became excited and +rose to their feet to see over their neighbors' heads but were unable to +distinguish anything except the slow ascent of the police who, opening a +passage from step to step, reached the group where the dispute had +begun. + +"Sit down!" exclaimed the more prudent, deprived of their view of the +ring where the bull-fighters continued the game. + +Little by little the waves of the multitude calmed, the rows of heads +assumed their former regularity on the circular lines of the benches, +and the bull-fight went on. But the nerves of the audience were shaken +and their state of mind manifested itself in unjust animosity toward +certain fighters or by profound silence. + +The public, exhausted by the recent intense emotion, found all the +events tame. They sought to allay their ennui by eating and drinking. +The venders in the plaza went about between _barreras_, throwing with +marvellous skill the articles bought. Oranges flew like red balls to the +highest row, going from the hand of the seller to those of the buyer in +a straight line, as if pulled by a thread. Bottles of carbonated drinks +were uncorked. The liquid gold of Andalusian wines shone in little +glasses. + +A movement of curiosity circulated along the benches. Fuentes was about +to fix the _banderillas_ in his bull and every one expected some +extraordinary show of skill and grace. He advanced alone to the centre +of the plaza with the _banderillas_ in one hand, serene, tranquil, +walking slowly, as though he were to begin a game. The bull followed his +movements with curious eyes, amazed to see the man alone before him +after the former hurly-burly of fluttering and extended capes, of cruel +barbs thrust into his neck, of horses that came and stood within reach +of his horns, as if offering themselves to his attack. + +The man hypnotized the beast. He drew near until he could touch his poll +with the point of the _banderillas_, then he ran slowly away, with short +steps, the bull after him, as though persuaded into obedience and drawn +against his will to the extreme opposite side of the plaza. The animal +seemed to be mastered by the bull-fighter; he obeyed him in all his +movements until the man, calling the game ended, extended his arms with +a _banderilla_ in each hand, raised his small, slender body upon his +toes, advanced toward the bull with majestic ease, and thrust the gayly +colored darts into its neck. + +Three times he performed the same feat, applauded by the public. Those +who considered themselves connoisseurs retaliated now for the explosion +of enthusiasm provoked by Gallardo. This was a bull-fighter! This was +pure art. + +Gallardo, standing near the barrier, wiped the sweat off his face with a +towel which Garabato handed him. Then he turned his back on the ring to +avoid seeing the prowess of his companion. Outside of the plaza he +esteemed his rivals with that feeling of fraternity established by +danger; but as soon as they stepped into the arena all were enemies and +their triumphs pained him as if they were offences. Now the enthusiasm +of the public seemed to him a robbery that diminished his own great +triumph. + +When the fifth bull came out, it was for him, and he sprang into the +arena anxious to again startle the public by his daring. + +When a _picador_ fell he threw his cape and enticed the bull to the +other side of the ring, confusing him with a series of movements until +the beast became stupefied and stood motionless. Then Gallardo touched +his nose with one foot, and took his cap and put it between the horns. +Again, he took advantage of the animal's stupefaction and thrust his +body forward as an audacious challenge, and knelt at a short distance, +all but lying down under the brute's nose. + +The old _aficionados_ protested loudly. Monkey-shines! Clown-tricks, +that would not have been tolerated in olden days! But they had to +subside, wearied by the tumult of the public. + +When the signal for the _banderillas_ was given the people were thrown +into suspense by seeing that Gallardo took the darts from Nacional and +walked towards the beast with them. There was an exclamation of protest. +_He_ to throw the _banderillas_! All knew his inexperience in that +direction. This ought to be left to those who had risen in their career +step by step, for those who had been _banderilleros_ many years at the +side of their _maestros_ before becoming bull-fighters; and Gallardo had +begun at the top, killing bulls ever since he stepped into the plaza. + +"No! No!" clamored the multitude. + +Doctor Ruiz shouted and gesticulated from the _contrabarrera_. + +"Leave off that, boy! Thou knowest but the great act--to kill!" + +But Gallardo scorned the public and was deaf to its protests when he +felt the impulse of audacity. Amidst the outcries he went directly +towards the bull, which never moved and, _zas!_ he stuck in the +_banderillas_. The pair lodged out of place, and only skin deep, and one +of the sticks fell at the beast's movement of surprise. But this +mattered not. With that lenity the multitude ever feels for its idols, +excusing and justifying their defects, the entire public commended this +piece of daring by smiling. He, growing more rash, took other +_banderillas_ and lodged them, heedless of the protests of the people +who feared for his life. Then he repeated the act a third time, each +time doing it crudely but with such fearlessness that what in another +would have provoked hisses was received with great explosions of +admiration. What a man! How luck aided this daring youth! + +The bull stood with only four of the _banderillas_ in his neck, and +those so lightly embedded that he did not seem to feel them. + +"He is perfectly sound," yelled the devotees on the rows of seats, +alluding to the bull, while Gallardo, grasping sword and _muleta_, +marched up to him, with his cap on, arrogant and calm, trusting in his +lucky star. + +"Aside, all!" he shouted again. + +Divining that some one was near him giving no heed to his orders he +turned his head. Fuentes was a few steps away. He had followed him, his +cape over his arm, feigning inattention but ready to come to his aid as +though he felt a premonition of an accident. + +"Leave me alone, Antonio," said Gallardo, with an expression that was at +once angry and respectful, as though he were talking to an elder +brother, at which Fuentes shrugged his shoulders as if he thus threw off +all responsibility, and turned his back and walked away slowly, but +feeling certain of being needed at any moment. + +Gallardo waved his flag in the beast's very face and the latter +attacked. "A pass! Hurrah!" the enthusiasts roared. But the animal +suddenly returned, falling upon the _matador_ again and giving him such +a violent blow with his head that the _muleta_ was knocked from his +hands. Finding himself unarmed and hard-pressed he had to make for the +_barrera_, but at the same instant Fuentes' cape distracted the animal. +Gallardo, who divined during his flight the beast's sudden halt, did +not jump over the _barrera_; he sat on the vaulting wall an instant, +contemplating his enemy a few paces away. The rout ended in applause for +this show of serenity. + +Gallardo recovered the _muleta_ and sword, carefully arranged the red +flag, and again stood in front of the beast's head, less calmly, but +dominated instead by a murderous fury, by a desire to kill instantly the +animal that had made him run in sight of thousands of admirers. + +He had scarcely made a pass with the flag when he thought the decisive +moment had arrived and he squared himself, the _muleta_ held low, the +hilt of the sword raised close to his eyes. + +The public protested again, fearing for his life. + +"He'll throw thee! No! _Aaay!_" + +It was an exclamation of horror that moved the whole plaza; a spasm that +caused the multitude to rise to its feet with eyes staring while the +women covered their faces or grasped the nearest arm in terror. + +At the bull-fighter's thrust the sword struck bone, and, delayed in the +movement of stepping aside on account of this difficulty, Gallardo had +been caught by one of the horns and now hung upon it by the middle of +his body. The brave youth, so strong and wiry, found himself tossed +about on the end of the horn like a miserable manikin until the powerful +beast, with a shake of his head, flung him some yards away, where he +fell heavily on the sand with arms and legs extended, like a frog +dressed in silk and gold. + +"He is killed! A horn-stab in the belly!" They shouted from the rows of +seats. + +But Gallardo got up amidst the capes and the men who rushed to cover +and save him. He smiled; he tested his body; then he raised his +shoulders to indicate to the public that it was nothing. A jar--no more, +and the belt torn to shreds. The horn had only penetrated the wrapping +of strong silk. + +Again he grasped the instruments of death, but now nobody would remain +seated, divining that the encounter would be short and terrible. +Gallardo marched towards the beast with a blind impulse determined to +kill or die immediately, without delay or precaution. The bull or he! He +saw red, as if blood had been injected into his eyes. He heard, as +something distant that came from another world, the outcry of the +multitude counselling calmness. + +He made only two passes, aided by a cape that he held at his side, then +suddenly, with the swiftness of a dream, like a spring that is loosed +from its fastening, he threw himself upon the bull, giving him a stab +that his admirers said was swift as a lightning stroke. He thrust his +arm so far over that on escaping from between the horns he received a +blow from one of them which sent him staggering away; but he kept on his +feet, and the beast, after a mad run, fell at the extreme opposite side +of the plaza and lay with his legs bent under him and the top of his +head touching the sand until the _puntillero_ came to finish him. The +public seemed to go mad with enthusiasm. A glorious bull-fight! It was +surfeited with excitement. That fellow Gallardo did not rob one of his +money; he responded with excess to the price of entrance. The devotees +would have material to talk about for three days at their meetings at +the _cafe_. How brave! how fierce! And the most enthusiastic, with +warlike fervor, looked in every direction as if searching for enemies. + +"The greatest _matador_ in the world! And here am I to face whoever dare +say to the contrary!" + +The remainder of the bull-fight scarcely claimed attention. It all +seemed tasteless and colorless after Gallardo's daring. + +When the last bull fell upon the sand a surging crowd of boys, of +popular devotees, of apprentices of the art of bull-fighting, invaded +the ring. They surrounded Gallardo, following him on his way from the +president's box to the door of exit. They crowded against him, all +wishing to press his hand or touch his dress, and at last, the most +vehement, paying no attention to the gesticulations of Nacional and the +other _banderilleros_, caught the master by the legs and raised him to +their shoulders, carrying him around the ring and through the galleries +to the outer edge of the plaza. + +Gallardo, taking off his cap, bowed to the groups that applauded his +triumph. Wrapped in his glittering cape, he allowed himself to be +carried like a divinity, motionless and erect above the current of +Cordovan hats and Madrid caps, amidst acclamations of enthusiasm. + +As he stepped into his carriage at the lower end of Alcala Street, +hailed by the crowd that had not seen the bull-fight, but which already +knew of his triumphs, a smile of pride, of satisfaction in his own +strength, illuminated his sweaty countenance over which the pallor of +emotion still spread. + +Nacional, anxious about the master's having been caught and about his +violent fall, wished to know if he felt any pain, and if he should call +Doctor Ruiz. + +"It's nothing; a petting, nothing more. No bull alive can kill me." + +But as though in the midst of his pride arose the recollection of his +past weaknesses, and as though he thought he saw in Nacional's eyes an +ironic expression, he added: + +"Those are things that affect me before going to the plaza; something +like hysteria in women. But thou art right, Sebastian. How sayest thou? +God or Nature, that's it; neither God nor Nature should meddle in +affairs of bull-fighting. Every one gets through as he can, by his skill +or by his courage, and recommendations from earth or from heaven are of +no use to him. Thou hast talent, Sebastian; thou shouldst have studied +for a career." + +In the optimism of his joy he looked upon the _banderillero_ as a sage, +forgetting the jests with which he had always received the latter's +topsy-turvy reasoning. + +When he reached his lodging he found many admirers in the vestibule +anxious to embrace him. They talked of his deeds with such hyperbole +that they seemed altered, exaggerated, and transfigured by the comments +made in the short distance from the plaza to the hotel. + +Upstairs his room was full of friends, gentlemen who _thoued_ him, and, +imitating the rustic speech of the country people, shepherds and +cattle-breeders, said to him, slapping his shoulders: + +"Thou hast done very well; but really, very well!" + +Gallardo freed himself from this enthusiastic reception and went out +into the corridor with Garabato. + +"Go and send a telegram home. Thou knowest what to say: '_As usual_.'" + +Garabato protested. He must help the _maestro_ undress. The servants of +the hotel would take charge of sending the despatch. + +"No, I wish it to be thou. I will wait. Thou must send another telegram. +Thou already knowest who to--to that lady; to Dona Sol. Also '_As +usual_.'" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +BORN FOR THE BULL-RING + + +When Senora Angustias was bereft of her husband, Senor Juan Gallardo, +the well known cobbler established in a _portal_ in the ward of the +Feria, she wept with the disconsolateness due the event, but at the same +time, in the depths of her soul, she felt the satisfaction of one who +rests after a long journey, freed from an overwhelming burden. + +"Poor fellow, joy of my heart! May God keep him in His glory. So good! +So industrious!" + +During twenty years of life together, he had not caused her greater +sorrows than those the rest of the women of the ward had to bear. Of the +three _pesetas_ he averaged as a result of his labor he handed over one +to Senora Angustias for the support of the house and family, using the +other two for personal entertainment and for keeping up appearances +among his friends. He was obliged to respond to the attentions of his +companions when they invited him to a convivial glass, and the famous +Andalusian wine, since it is the glory of God, costs dear. Also it was +inevitable that he should go to see the bulls, because a man who does +not drink nor attend bull-fights--why is he in the world? + +Senora Angustias with her two children, Encarnacion and little Juan, had +to sharpen her wits and develop numerous talents in order to keep the +family together. She worked as a servant in the houses nearest her +ward, sewed for the women of the neighborhood, sold clothing and +trinkets for a certain brokeress, a friend of hers, and made cigarettes +for the gentlemen, recalling her youthful aptitude when Senor Juan, an +enthusiastic and favored lover, used to come and wait for her at the +door of the Tobacco Factory. + +Never could she complain of infidelity or ill-treatment on the part of +her husband. On Saturdays when the cobbler used to come home drunk in +the late hours of the night supported by his friends, joy and tenderness +came with him. Senora Angustias had to drag him into the house, for he +was determined to remain outside the door clapping his hands and +intoning, with slobbery voice, tender love songs dedicated to his +corpulent companion. And when the door was at last closed behind him, +depriving the neighbors of a source of entertainment, Senor Juan, in a +state of sentimental drunkenness, insisted on seeing the sleeping +children; he kissed them, wetting their little faces with great +tear-drops, and repeated his verses in honor of Senora Angustias +(Hurrah! the greatest woman in the world!) till finally the good wife +was compelled to cease frowning and to laugh while she undressed him and +managed him as if he were a sick child. + +This was his only vice. Poor fellow! There was not a sign of women or of +gambling. His self-esteem which made him go well dressed while the +family went in rags, and his unequal division of the products of his +labor, were both compensated by generous incentives. Senora Angustias +recollected with pride the great feast days when Juan had her put on her +Manila shawl, her wedding _mantilla_, and, with the children walking in +advance, he strode at her side with white Cordovan hat and silver +handled cane, taking a walk along Delicias with the same air as any +shopkeeper's family from Sierpes Street. On cheap bull-fight days he +courted her pompously before going to the plaza, offering her glasses of +wine at La Campana or at a _cafe_ in the New Plaza. This happy time was +now but a faint and pleasant memory in the recollection of the poor +woman. + +Senor Juan fell ill of phthisis and for two years the wife had to care +for him, making still greater exertions in her industries to compensate +for the lack of the _peseta_ her husband used to turn over to her. At +last he died in the hospital, resigned to his fate, convinced that +existence was of no value without Andalusian wine and without bulls, and +his last look of love and gratitude was for his wife, as if he would +call out with his eyes: "Hurrah! the greatest woman in the world!" + +When Senora Angustias was left alone her position did not change for the +worse,--rather for the better. She enjoyed greater liberty in her +movements, freed from the man who for the last two years had weighed +more heavily upon her than the rest of the family. Being an energetic +woman and of prompt decision, she immediately marked out a career for +her children. Encarnacion, who was now sixteen, went to the Tobacco +Factory, where her mother was able to introduce her, thanks to her +relations with certain friends of her youth who had become overseers. +Juanillo, who as a lad had passed his days in the _portal_ of the Feria +watching his father work, should be a shoemaker, according to the will +of Senora Angustias. She took him out of school, where he had learned +to read but poorly, and at twelve he became an apprentice to one of the +best shoemakers in Seville. + +And now the martyrdom of the poor woman began. + +Ah, that boy! Son of such honorable parents! Almost every day, instead +of going to his master's shop he went to the slaughter-house with +certain rascals who had their meeting place on a bench in the Alameda of +Hercules and who delighted to flaunt a cape under the nose of young +bullocks for the entertainment of herders and butchers, generally +getting upset and trampled upon. Senora Angustias, who often toiled far +into the night, needle in hand, so that the boy might go to the shop +neat, with his clothing clean and mended, met him at the door when he +came home with his pantaloons torn, his jacket dirty, and his face +covered with lumps and scratches, afraid to enter yet without courage to +flee owing to his hunger. + +The welts made by his mother's blows and the marks of the broom-handle +were added to the bruises of the treacherous bullocks, but the hero of +the slaughter-house suffered them all, provided he did not lack his +daily rations. "Beat me, but give me something to eat." And with his +appetite awakened by violent exercise, he devoured the hard bread, the +spoiled beans, the stale cod-fish, all the cheap food the diligent woman +sought in the shops in the effort to maintain the family on her scanty +earnings. + +Toiling all day scrubbing floors, only now and then did she have an +afternoon in which she could concern herself with her son's welfare and +go to the cobbler's to learn of the progress of the apprentice. When she +returned from the shoe-maker's shop she was puffing and blowing with +anger and resolved upon terrible punishments to correct the vagabond. + +Most of the time he failed to present himself at the shop at all. He +spent the morning at the slaughter-house and in the afternoons he formed +one of the group of vagabonds collected at the entrance of Sierpes +Street, admiring at close range the bull-fighters out of work who +gathered in Campana Street, dressed in new clothes, with resplendent +hats but with no more than a _peseta_ in their pockets, though each one +was bragging of his exploits. + +Little Juan contemplated them as if they were beings of marvellous +superiority, envying their fine carriage and the boldness with which +they flattered the women. The idea that each of these had at home a suit +of silk embroidered with gold, and that with it on he strode before the +multitude to the sound of music, produced a thrill of respect. + +The son of Senora Angustias was known as the Little Cobbler among his +ragged friends, and he showed satisfaction at having a nickname, as have +nearly all the great men who appear in the ring. A foundation must be +laid somewhere. He wore around his neck a red handkerchief which he had +pilfered from his sister, and from beneath his cap his hair fell over +his ears in thick locks which he carefully plastered down. He wore his +plaited blouses of drill tucked into his trousers, which were ancient +relics of his father's wardrobe made over by Senora Angustias; he +insisted these must be high in the waist with the legs wide and the hips +well tightened, and wept with humiliation when his mother would not +yield to these exactions. + +A cape! If only he might possess a fighting cape and not have to beg +from other more fortunate boys the loan of the coveted "rag" for a few +minutes! In a poor little room at home lay an old forgotten empty +mattress case. Senora Angustias had sold the wool in days of stress. The +Little Cobbler spent a morning locked in the room, taking advantage of +the absence of his mother who was working as a servant in a priest's +house. + +With the ingenuity of a shipwrecked mariner on a desert isle who, thrown +upon his own resources, must construct everything necessary to his +existence, he cut a fighting cape from the damp and half-frayed cloth. +Then he boiled in a pot a handful of red aniline bought at a druggist's, +and dipped the ancient cotton in this dye. Little Juan admired his +work--a cape of the most vivid scarlet that would arouse the greatest +envy at the bull-baiting in the surrounding towns! Nothing remained but +to dry it and he hung it in the sun beside the neighbor women's white +clothes. The wind blew the dripping cloth about, bespattering the +nearest pieces, until a chorus of curses and threats, clenched fists, +and mouths that pronounced the ugliest of words against him and his +mother, obliged the Little Cobbler to grasp his mantle of glory and take +to his heels, his hands and face dyed red as though he had just +committed a murder. + +Senora Angustias, a strong, corpulent, be-whiskered woman who was not +afraid of men, and inspired the respect of women for her energetic +resolutions, was disheartened and weak in the presence of her son. What +could she do? Her hands had pummelled every part of the boy's body; +brooms were broken on him without beneficial results. That little imp +had, according to her, the flesh of a dog. Accustomed outside of the +house to the tremendous butting of the steers, to the cruel trampling +of the cows, to the clubs of herders and butchers who beat the band of +vagabond bull-fighters without compassion, his mother's blows seemed to +him a natural event, a continuation of his life outside prolonged inside +the home, and he accepted them without the least intention of mending +his ways, as a fee which he must pay in exchange for his sustenance, +chewing the hard bread with hungry enjoyment, while the maternal +maledictions and blows rained on his back. + +Scarcely was his hunger appeased when he fled from the house, taking +advantage of the freedom in which Senora Angustias left him when she +absented herself on her round of duties. + +In Campana Street, that venerable haunt of the bull-fighters where the +gossip of the great doings of the profession circulated, he received +information about his companions that gave him tremors of enthusiasm. + +"Little Cobbler, a bull-fight to-morrow." + +The towns in the province celebrated the feasts of their patron saints +with cape-teasing of bulls which had been rejected from the great +plazas, and to these the young bull-fighters went in the hope of being +able to say on their return that they had held the cape in the glorious +plazas of Aznalcollar, Bollullos, or Mairena. They started on the +journey at night with the cape over the shoulder if it were summer, or +wrapped in it if winter, their stomachs empty, their heads full of +visions of bulls and glory. + +If the trip were of several days' journey they camped in the open, or +they were admitted through charity to the hayloft of an inn. Alas for +the grapes, melons, and figs they found by the way in those happy +times! Their only fear was that another band, another _cuadrilla_, +possessed of the same idea, would present itself in the _pueblo_ and set +up an opposition. + +When they reached the end of their journey, with their eyebrows and +mouths full of dust, tired and foot-sore from the march, they presented +themselves to the alcalde and the boldest among them who performed the +functions of director talked of the merits of his men. All considered +themselves happy if the municipal generosity sheltered them in a stable +of the hostelry and regaled them with a pot of stew in addition, which +they would clean up instantly. In the village plaza enclosed by wagons +and boards, they let loose aged bulls, regular forts of flesh covered +with scabs and scars, with enormous saw-edged horns; cattle which had +been fought many years in all the feasts of the province; venerable +animals that "understood the game," such was their malice. Accustomed to +one continual bull-fight they were in the secret of the tricks of the +contest. + +The youths of the _pueblo_ pricked on the beasts from their place of +safety and the people longed for an object of diversion greater than the +bull--in the bull-fighters from Seville. These waved their capes, their +legs trembling, their courage borne down by the weight of their +stomachs. A tumble, and then great clamor from the public! When one in +sudden terror took refuge behind the palisades, rural barbarity received +him with insults, beating the hands clutching at the wood, pounding him +on the legs to make him jump back into the ring. "Get back there, +poltroon! Fraud, to turn your face from the bull." + +At times one of the young swordsmen was borne out of the ring by four +companions, pale as a sheet of white paper, his eyes glassy, his head +fallen, his breast like a broken bellows. The veterinary came, quieting +them all on seeing no blood. The boy was suffering from the shock of +being thrown some yards and falling on the ground like a rag torn from a +piece of clothing. Again it was the agony of having been stepped on by a +beast of enormous weight. A bucket of water was thrown on his head and +then, when he recovered his senses, they treated him to a long drink of +brandy. A prince could not be better cared for! + +To the ring again! And when the herder had no more bulls to let out and +night was drawing near, two of the _cuadrilla_ grasped the best cape +belonging to the society and holding it by its edges went from one +viewing stand to another soliciting a contribution. Copper coins fell +upon the red cloth in proportion to the pleasure the strangers had given +the country people; and, the bull-baiting ended, they started on their +return to the city, knowing that they had exhausted their credit at the +inn. Often they fought on the way over the distribution of the pieces of +copper which they carried in a knotted handkerchief. Then the rest of +the week, they recounted their deeds before the fascinated eyes of their +companions who had not been members of the expedition. + +Once Senora Angustias spent an entire week without hearing from her son. +At last she heard vague rumors of his having been wounded in a +bull-scrimmage in the town of Tocina. _Dios mio_! Where might that town +be? How reach it? She gave up her son for dead, she wept for him, she +longed to go; and then as she was getting ready to start on her +journey, she saw little Juan coming home, pale, weak, but talking with +manly joy of his accident. + +It was nothing--a horn-stab in one thigh; a wound a fraction of an inch +deep. And in the shamelessness of triumph he wanted to show it to the +neighbors, affirming that a finger could be thrust into it without +reaching its end. He was proud of the stench of iodoform that he shed as +he walked, and he talked of the attention they had shown him in that +town, which he considered the finest in Spain. The wealthiest citizens, +one might say the aristocracy, interested themselves in his case, the +alcalde had been to see him and later paid his way home. He still had +three _duros_ in his pocket, which he handed to his mother with the +generosity of a great man. So much glory at fourteen! His satisfaction +was yet greater when some genuine bull-fighters in Campana Street fixed +their attention on the boy and asked him how his wound was getting +along. + +His companion in poverty was Chiripa, a boy of the same age, with a +small body and malicious eyes, without father or mother, who had tramped +about Seville ever since he had attained the use of his faculties. +Chiripa was a master of the roving life and had travelled over the +world. The two boys started on a journey empty of pocket, without other +equipment than their capes, miserable cast-offs acquired for a few +_reales_ from a second-hand clothing store. + +They clambered cautiously into trains and hid under seats. Often they +were surprised by a trainman and, to the accompaniment of kicks and +blows, were left by him on the platform of some solitary station while +the train vanished like a lost hope. They awaited the arrival of +another, spending the night in the open, employing the cunning of +primitive man to satisfy their necessities, crawling round about country +houses to steal some solitary chicken, which, after wringing the fowl's +neck, they would broil over a fire of dry wood and devour scorched and +half raw, with the voracity of young savages. + +Often when they slept in the open air near a station awaiting the +passing of a train, a couple of guards would come up to them. On seeing +the red bundles that served as pillows for these vagabonds, their +suspicions were quieted. They gently removed the boys' caps, and on +finding the hairy appendage they went away laughing without further +investigation. These were not young thieves; they were apprentices who +were going to the _capeas_. And in this tolerance there was a mixture of +sympathy for the national sport and of respect for the obscure +possibilities of the future. Who could tell if one of these ragged +youths, despite his present appearance of poverty, might not in the +future be a "star of the art," a great man who would kill bulls for the +entertainment of kings, and live like a prince, and whose deeds and +sayings would be exploited in the newspapers? + +One afternoon, the Little Cobbler was left alone in a town of +Extremadura. For the admiration of the rustic audience which applauded +the famous bull-fighters "come purposely from Seville," the two boys +threw _banderillas_ at a fierce and ancient bull. Little Juan stuck his +pair into the beast and was posing near a view-stand, proudly receiving +the popular ovation of tremendous hand-clappings and proffers of cups of +wine, when an exclamation of horror sobered him in his intoxication of +glory. Chiripa was no longer on the ground of the plaza; only the +_banderillas_ rolling in the dust, one slipper and a cap were there. The +bull was moving about as if irritated by some obstacle, carrying hooked +on one of his horns a bundle of clothing resembling a puppet. With the +violent tossing of his head the shapeless roll was loosened from the +horn, ejecting a red stream, but before touching the ground it was +caught by the opposite horn which in its turn tossed it about during +what seemed an interminable time. At last, the sorry bulk fell to the +dust and there it stayed, flabby and inert, like a punctured wine-skin +expelling its contents. + +The herder with his leaders took the bull into the corral, for no one +else dared go near him, and poor Chiripa was carried upon a stretcher to +a wretched little room in the town-house that served as a jail. His +companion looked at him with a face as white as if made of plaster. +Chiripa's eyes were glazed and his body was red with the blood which +could not be stopped by the cloths wet with water and vinegar, which +were applied in lieu of anything better. + +"Adio', Little Cobbler!" he moaned. "Adio', Juanito!" + +And he said no more. The companion of the dead youth, terrified, started +on his return to Seville still seeing his glassy eyes, hearing his +mournful good-bye. He was filled with fear. A gentle cow appearing in +his path would have made him run. He thought of his mother and of the +prudence of her counsel. Would it not be better to dedicate himself to +shoemaking and live tranquilly? But these resolutions only lasted while +he was alone. When he reached Seville he felt the return of +exhilaration. Friends rushed to him to hear about the death of poor +Chiripa in every detail. Professional bull-fighters questioned him in +Campana Street, remembering with pity the little vagabond with the +pock-marked face who had often run errands for them. Juan, fired by such +signs of consideration, gave rein to his powerful imagination, +describing how he had thrown himself upon the bull when he had seen his +poor companion hooked, how he had grabbed the beast by the tail and +achieved even more wonderful feats, in spite of which the other boy had +left this world. + +The impulse of fear vanished. Bull-fighter--nothing but a bull-fighter! +Since others were, why should he not be one? He recollected his mother's +spoiled beans and hard bread; the deprivation each pair of new +pantaloons had cost him; the hunger, that inseparable companion of many +of his expeditions. Moreover he had a vehement desire for all the joys +and displays of life; he gazed with envy at the coaches and the horses; +he stood transfixed before the doors of the great houses through whose +iron grilles he saw courtyards of Oriental sumptuousness and arcades of +colored tiles, pavements with marble and chattering fountains casting a +stream of pearls day and night into a basin surrounded by foliage. His +fate was sealed. To kill bulls or die! To be rich, to have the +newspapers talk of him, and to have the people bow to him, even though +it were at the price of his life. He despised the lower grades of the +art. He saw the _banderilleros_ expose their lives equally with the +swordsmen in exchange for thirty _duros_ for each bull-fight; and, after +a round of toil and horn-stabs, become old, with no other future than +some wretched business bought with paltry savings, or else a position at +the slaughter-house. Some died in the hospital; others begged alms from +their youthful companions. He would have nothing to do with +_banderilleros_ nor with spending long years in a _cuadrilla_ in +submission to the despotism of a _maestro_. He would begin with killing +bulls; he would tread the sand of the plazas as a swordsman! + +The misfortune of poor Chiripa gave him a certain ascendency over his +companions, and he formed a _cuadrilla_ of ragged youths who marched +behind him to the _capeas_ of the _pueblos_. They respected him because +he was braver and better dressed. Some young girls of the street, +attracted by the manly beauty of the Little Cobbler, who was now in his +eighteenth year, and predisposed by his _coleta_, disputed in noisy +competition the honor of taking care of his comely person. Moreover he +counted on a patron, an old magistrate who had a weakness for the +courage of young bull-fighters and whose friendship infuriated Senora +Angustias and caused her to let loose some most indecent expressions +which she had learned at the Tobacco Factory in her younger days. + +The Little Cobbler dressed himself in suits of English cloth well fitted +to the elegance of his figure, and his hat was always resplendent. His +friends took scrupulous care of the whiteness of his collars and +furbelows, and on certain days he proudly wore on his waistcoat a heavy +gold chain, a loan from his respectable friend, that had already figured +around the necks of other "boys who were starting out." + +He mingled with broken-down bull-fighters; he could pay for the drinks +of the old _peones_ who recalled the deeds of famous swordsmen. It was +believed for a certainty that some protectors were exerting themselves +in favor of this "boy," awaiting a propitious occasion for him to make +his _debut_ in a fight of young bullocks in the plaza of Seville. + +The Little Cobbler was now a _matador_. One day, at Lebrija, when a +lively little young bull came into the plaza, his companions had urged +him on to the greatest luck. "Dost thou dare to kill him?" And he killed +him! Henceforward, fired by the ease with which he had escaped danger, +he went to all the _capeas_ in which they announced that a bull was to +be killed, and to all the granges where bulls were to be fought to the +death. + +The proprietor of La Rinconada, a rich farmer with a small bull-ring, +was an enthusiast who kept his table set and his hayloft open for all +the hungry who wished to divert him by fighting his cattle. Juan went +there in days of poverty with other companions, to eat and drink to the +health of the rural hidalgo, although it might be at the price of some +rough tumbling. They arrived afoot after a two days' tramp and the +proprietor, seeing the dusty troop with their bundles of capes, said +solemnly: + +"Whoever does the best work, I'll buy him a ticket that he may return to +Seville on the train." + +Two days the lord of the farm spent smoking on the balcony of his plaza +while the boys from Seville fought young bulls, being frequently caught +and trampled. + +He sharply reproved a poorly executed cape-play, and called out, "Get up +off the ground, you big coward! Come, give him wine to get him over his +fright," when a boy persisted in remaining stretched on the ground after +a bull had passed over his body. + +The Little Cobbler killed a bull in a manner so much to the liking of +the owner that the latter seated him at his table while his comrades +stayed in the kitchen with the herders and farm laborers, dipping their +horn spoons into the steaming broth. + +"Thou hast earned the return by railroad, my brave youth. Thou wilt +travel far if thou dost not lose heart. Thou hast promise." + +The Little Cobbler, starting on his return to Seville second class while +the _cuadrilla_ tramped afoot, thought that a new life was beginning for +him, and he cast a look of covetousness at the enormous plantation with +its extensive olive orchards, its fields of grain, its mills, its +meadows stretching out of sight in which were pasturing thousands of +goats, while bulls and cows lay quietly chewing the cud. What wealth! If +only he might some day come to possess something like that! + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +AT CARMEN'S WINDOW-GRILLE + + +Gallardo's prowess in fighting young bulls in the _pueblos_, heralded in +Seville, caused the restless and insatiable amateurs, ever seeking a new +luminary to eclipse those already discovered, to fix their attention +upon him. + +"He certainly is a boy of wonderful promise," they used to say, on +seeing him pass along Sierpes Street with short step, swinging his arms +arrogantly. "He must be seen on classic ground." This ground for them +and for the Little Cobbler was the ring of the plaza at Seville. The boy +was soon to find himself face to face with the real thing. His protector +had acquired for him a spangled costume, somewhat worn, a cast-off of +some bull-fighter who had failed to win a name. A _corrida_ of young +bulls was arranged for a benefit, and influential devotees, eager for +novelty, managed to include him in the programme gratuitously, as +_matador_. + +The son of Senora Angustias declined to appear in the announcements +under his nickname of Little Cobbler, which he desired to forget. He +would have nothing to do with stage names, and less with menial offices. +He wished to be known by the names of his father, he desired to be Juan +Gallardo; no nickname should recall his origin to the great people who +undoubtedly would become his friends of the future. + +The whole ward of the Feria flocked _en masse_ to the _corrida_ with a +noisy and patriotic fervor. The dwellers in the ward of Macarena also +showed their interest and the other popular wards allowed themselves to +be carried away with equal enthusiasm. A new _matador_ for Seville! +There was not room for all and thousands were left outside the plaza +anxiously awaiting the news of the _corrida_. + +Gallardo fought, killed, was knocked down by a bull without being hurt, +and kept the public in constant anxiety by his daring, which generally +resulted fortunately and provoked colossal bellowings of enthusiasm. +Certain devotees, esteemed for their opinions, smiled complacently. He +had much to learn but he had courage and ambition, which is the +important thing. + +"Above all, he goes in to really kill 'in classic style,' and he keeps +inside the field of reality." + +At the opposite side of the plaza the old magistrate smiled +compassionately beneath his white beard, admiring the boy's bravery and +the fine appearance he made in the spangled costume. When he saw him +knocked down by the bull he fell back into his seat as if he were going +to faint. That was too much for him. + +In one section proudly strutted the husband of Encarnacion, Gallardo's +sister, a leather-worker by trade, a prudent man, an enemy of vagrancy, +who had married the cigarette girl, captured by her charms, but under +the express condition of having nothing to do with her scamp of a +brother. + +Gallardo, offended by his brother-in-law's distrust, had never ventured +into his shop, which was situated in the outskirts of Macarena, nor +descended from the ceremonious you when now and then of an afternoon he +met him at his mother's house. + +"I am going to see how that shameless brother of thine dodges the +oranges," he had said to his wife as he set out for the plaza. + +And now, from his seat, he bowed to the swordsman, calling him Juaniyo, +saying _thou_, playing the peacock, content when the young bull-fighter, +attracted by the many shouts, saw him at last and returned the greeting +with a salute of his sword. + +"He is my brother-in-law," said the leather-worker so that those near +him might admire him. "I have always known the boy would amount to +something at bull-fighting. My wife and I have helped him much." + +The finale was triumphal. The multitude rushed impetuously upon +Juanillo, as if they were about to devour him by their outbursts of +enthusiasm. Fortunately the brother-in-law was present to impose order, +to shield him with his body, and to conduct him to the hired coach in +which he seated himself at the bull-fighter's side. + +When they arrived at the house in the ward of the Feria an immense crowd +was following the carriage with shouts of joy and acclamations of praise +that brought the people crowding to the doors. The news of the triumph +had reached there ahead of the swordsman and the neighbors ran out to +see him and to press his hand. + +Senora Angustias and her daughter were at the door. The leather-worker +stepped out almost arm in arm with his brother-in-law, monopolizing him, +shouting and gesticulating in the name of the family that nobody should +touch him, as if he were a sick man. + +"Here he is, Encarnacion," he said, shoving him toward his wife, "Not +even Roger de Flor himself--" + +And Encarnacion had no need to ask more, for she knew that her husband +vaguely considered this historic individual the personification of all +greatness and that he only ventured to connect his name with portentous +circumstances. + +Certain enthusiastic neighbors who came from the _corrida_ flattered +Senora Angustias, crying, "Blessed be the mother that has given birth to +such a valiant youth!" + +Her friends overwhelmed her with their exclamations. What luck! And what +sums of money he soon was going to earn! + +The poor woman wore in her eyes an expression of astonishment and doubt. +And was it really her little Juan that had made the people run with such +enthusiasm? Had they gone mad? + +But she suddenly fell upon him as if all the past had vanished; as if +her worry and fretting were a dream; as if she confessed a shameful +error. Her great flabby arms wound around the bull-fighter's neck and +her tears wetted his cheeks. + +"My son! Little Juan! If thy poor father could only see thee!" + +"Don't cry, mother--for this is a day of joy. You shall see. If God +gives me luck I will build you a house and your friends shall see you in +a carriage and you shall wear all the Manila shawls you want." + +The leather-worker received these promises of greatness with signs of +affirmation in the presence of his astonished wife, who had not yet +recovered from her surprise at this radical change. + +"Yes, Encarnacion; this youth will do it all if he undertakes it. It was +extraordinary. Not even Roger de Flor himself--!" + +That night in the taverns and _cafes_ of the popular wards they talked +only of Gallardo. The bull-fighter of the future! He has flourished like +the very roses. This boy is going to get away the favors from all the +Cordovan caliphs. + +In these assertions was revealed Sevillian pride in constant rivalry +with the people of Cordova, which was also a land of good bull-fighters. + +Gallardo's existence changed completely from this day. The young +gentlemen greeted him and made him sit among them around the doors of +the _cafes_. The pretty girls who formerly satisfied his hunger and took +care of his adornment, found themselves little by little repelled with +smiling disregard. Even the old protector prudently withdrew in view of +a certain indifference and bestowed his tender friendship on other boys +who were just beginning. + +The management of the bull-plaza sought out Gallardo, humoring him as if +he were already a celebrity. By announcing his name on the programmes +success was assured, the plaza filled. The masses applauded wildly the +"boy of Senora Angustias," giving tongue to tales of his valor. +Gallardo's fame extended through Andalusia, and the leather-worker, +without being solicited, mixed in everything and played the part of +defender of his brother-in-law's interests. A thoughtful and expert man +in business, according to himself, he saw the course of his life marked +out. + +"Thy brother," he would say to his wife at night as they went to bed, +"needs a practical man at his side to manage his interests. Dost thou +suppose he would think well of naming me his manager? A great thing for +him! Not even Roger de Flor himself! And for us--?" + +The leather-worker contemplated in imagination the great riches Gallardo +was going to gain, and he thought also of his own five sons and those +that were still to come. Who could tell if what the swordsman earned +should fall to his nephews? + +For a year and a half Juan killed bullocks in the best plazas of Spain. +His fame had reached Madrid. The devotees at the capital felt a +curiosity to see the "Sevillian boy" of whom the newspapers talked so +much and of whom the "intelligent" Andalusians boasted. + +Gallardo, escorted by a group of friends from his native city who were +residing in Madrid, strutted along the sidewalk of Seville Street near +the Cafe Ingles. The pretty girls smiled at his compliments and their +eyes followed the toreador's heavy gold chain and his big diamond +ornaments acquired with his first earnings and on credit--discounting +the future. A _matador_ must show that he has an overplus of money by +decorating his person and treating everybody generously. How far away +were those days when he, with poor Chiripa, tramped along that same +pavement, afraid of the police, contemplating the bull-fighters with +admiration and picking up the stubs of their cigars! + +His work in Madrid was lucky. He made friends and formed around him a +group of enthusiasts hungry for novelty who also proclaimed him the +"bull-fighter of the future" and complained because he had not yet +received the "alternative." + +"He's going to earn money by basketfuls, Encarnacion," said the +brother-in-law. "He is going to have millions, if he doesn't have some +bad luck." + +The life of the family changed completely. Gallardo, mingling with the +young gentlemen of Seville, did not wish his mother to continue living +in the house where she had passed her days of poverty. On his account +they had moved to a better street in the city, but Senora Angustias +inclined to remain faithful to the ward of the Feria, with the love +which simple people feel as they grow old for the places where their +youth was spent. + +They lived in a much better house. The mother did not work and the +neighbors paid her homage, finding in her a generous lender in their +days of stress. Juan possessed, besides the loud and showy jewels with +which he adorned his person, that supreme luxury of every bull-fighter, +a powerful sorrel mare, with a cowboy saddle and a fine blanket bordered +with multicolored fringe across the pommel. Mounted on her he trotted +along the streets with no other object than to receive the homage of his +friends, who greeted his elegance with noisy _"Oles!"_ This satisfied +his desire for popularity for the moment. On other occasions he rode +with the young bloods, forming a sightly troop of horsemen, to the +pasture of Tablada, on the eve of a great _corrida_, to see the herd +that others had to kill. + +"When I take the 'alternative,'" he was saying at every step, making all +his plans for the future depend on that. + +He deferred until then a series of projects that would surprise his +mother, poor woman, overcome by the good fortune fallen suddenly upon +her house, and which, she thought, could not be surpassed. + +The day of the "alternative" came at last, the day of Gallardo's +recognition as a killer of bulls. A celebrated _maestro_ ceded to him +his sword and _muleta_ in the open ring of Seville and the crowd went +mad with enthusiasm, seeing how he felled with a single sword-thrust the +first "formal" bull that appeared before him. The following month, this +tauromachic degree was bestowed again in the plaza of Madrid where +another _maestro_, not less celebrated, again gave him the "alternative" +in a _corrida_ of Miura bulls. + +He was no longer a _novillero_; he was a _matador_, and his name figured +beside those of old swordsmen whom he had worshipped as unapproachable +gods when he was going about among the little towns taking part in the +bull-baitings. He remembered having lain in wait for one of them at a +station near Cordova to ask aid from him when he passed through on the +train with his _cuadrilla_. That night he had something to eat, thanks +to the generous fraternity that exists among the people of the queue +which impels a swordsman of princely luxury to hand out a _duro_ and a +cigar to the unfortunate little vagabond on the road to his first +_capeas_. + +Contracts began to shower upon the new swordsman. In all the plazas of +the Peninsula they desired to see him, moved by curiosity. The +newspapers devoted to the profession popularized his picture and his +life, distorting the latter with novel episodes. No other _matador_ had +so many engagements. He was going to make money abundantly. + +Antonio, his brother-in-law, told of this success with clouded brow and +loud protestations to his wife and her mother. The swordsman was an +ungrateful fellow--the history of all who rise suddenly. And he had +worked so hard for Juan! With what firmness had he argued with the +managers when the bullock-fight was arranged for him. And now that he +was a _maestro_ he had as a manager a gentleman he had met only a short +time ago; one Don Jose who was not one of the family but one for whom +Gallardo showed esteem on account of his prestige as an old connoisseur. + +"And he will be sorry for it," he ended, adding, "A man has only one +family and where will he find such loving care as we have given him ever +since he was little? He is the loser. With me he would flourish like +Roger de--" + +He interrupted himself, swallowing the famous name for fear of the jokes +of the _banderilleros_ and amateurs who frequented the house and who had +no respect for the historical object of the leather-worker's adoration. + +Gallardo, with the generosity of a victor, gave some satisfaction to his +brother-in-law by putting him in charge of the house he was having +built, with _carte blanche_ as to expenses. The swordsman, overcome by +the ease with which money came into his hands, was willing to let his +brother-in-law rob him, thus compensating him for not having been chosen +as manager. + +The _torero_ was to realize his desire of building a house for his +mother. She, poor woman, who had spent her life scrubbing floors for the +rich, should have her beautiful courtyard with marble pavements, with +tiled wainscot, and rooms with furniture like those of the gentry, with +servants, yes, many servants to wait upon her. He also felt united by a +traditional affection to the ward where his childish poverty had slipped +from him. He rejoiced to outshine the very people who had employed his +mother as a servant and to give a handful of _pesetas_, in moments of +need, to those who had taken shoes to his father or who had given him a +crumb in those sorrowful days. He bought several old houses, one of them +the same in whose _portal_ the cobbler had worked. He had them torn down +and began to build an edifice that was to have white walls with green +painted grilles, a vestibule lined with tiles, and a barred gate of +delicately wrought iron through which should be seen the courtyard with +its fountain in the centre and its marble columns, between which should +hang gilded cages with chattering birds. + +Antonio's satisfaction at having full license in the direction and +profit of the works was diminished somewhat by terrible news,--Gallardo +had a sweetheart! He was travelling now in mid-summer, running over +Spain from one plaza to another, making famous sword-thrusts and +receiving applause; but almost daily he sent a letter to a certain girl +in the ward and in the short respites between wandering from one +_corrida_ to another abandoned his companions and took the train to +spend the night in Seville, courting her. + +"Have you seen?" shouted the leather-worker, scandalized at what was +taking place "in the bosom of the home" before the very eyes of his wife +and mother-in-law. "A sweetheart! without saying a word to the family, +which is the only thing worth while in the whole world! The Senor wants +to marry. Without doubt he is tired of us. What a shameless fellow!" + +Encarnacion approved these assertions with rude grimaces of her strong, +fierce face, content to be able to express herself thus against the +brother who filled her with envy by his good fortune. Yes, he had ever +been a shameless fellow. + +But the mother protested. "No, indeed! I know the girl and her poor +mother was a chum of mine in the Factory. She is as pure as nuggets of +gold, trim, good, fine-looking. I have already told Juan that it would +please me and the sooner the better." + +She was an orphan, living with an aunt and uncle who kept a little +grocery store in the ward. Her father, an old-time dealer in brandies, +had left her two houses on the outskirts of Macarena. + +"A little thing," said Senora Angustias, "but the girl doesn't come +empty-handed. She brings something of her own. And as for +clothes--_Josu!_ you ought to see her little hands of gold; how she +embroiders the clothes, how she is preparing her trousseau." + +Gallardo vaguely recollected having played with her when they were +children near the _portal_ where the cobbler worked while the two +mothers chatted. She was a sprightly creature, thin and dark, with eyes +of a gypsy--the pupils black and sharply rounded like drops of ink, the +corneas bluish white and the corners a pallid rose-hue. In their races +she was as agile as a boy and her legs looked like reeds; her hair hung +about her head in thick rebellious locks twisting like black snakes. +Then she had dropped out of his sight and he did not meet her until many +years afterward when he was a _novillero_, and had begun to make a name. + +It was one Corpus Christi day--one of the few feasts when the women, +shut up in the house through Oriental laziness, go out upon the streets +like Moorish women at liberty, wearing _mantillas_ of silk lace and +carnations on their breasts. Gallardo saw a young girl, tall, slender, +and at the same time strongly built, the waist confined in handsome firm +curves with all the vigor of youth. Her face, of a rice-like pallor, +colored on seeing the bull-fighter; her great luminous eyes hid +themselves beneath their long lashes. + +"That girl knows me," said Gallardo to himself. "She must have seen me +in the ring." + +And when, after having followed her and her aunt, he heard that it was +Carmen, the companion of his infancy, he was astonished and confused by +the marvellous transformation from the dark thin girl of the past. They +became sweethearts and all the neighbors discussed their affair, seeing +in them a new honor for the neighborhood. + +"This is how it is with me," said Gallardo to his enthusiasts, adopting +a princely air. "I don't want to imitate other bull-fighters who marry +_senoritas_ that are all hats and feathers and flounces. For me, those +of my own class; a rich _mantilla_, a fine carriage, grace; that's what +I want--_Ole!_" + +His friends, enraptured, spoke highly of the girl,--a splendid lass, +with curves to her body that would set any one wild, and what an air! +But the bull-fighter only made a wry face. The less they talked of +Carmen the better. + +In the evening, as he conversed with her through a grated window, +contemplating her Moorish face framed in the flowering vines, the +servant of a nearby tavern presented himself, carrying glasses of +Andalusian wine on a painted tray. He was the envoy who came to collect +the toll, the traditional custom of Seville, which demanded pay from +sweethearts who talk through the grille. + +The bull-fighter drank a glass, offering another to the girl, and said +to the boy: + +"Give the gentlemen my thanks, and say I'll come along by the shop after +a while. Also tell Montanes to allow no one else to pay, that Juan +Gallardo will pay for everybody." + +And when he had finished his talk with his betrothed he went into the +tavern where he was awaited by the tipplers, some enthusiastic friends, +others unknown admirers anxious to toast the health of the bull-fighter +in tall glasses of wine. + +On returning from his first trip as a full-fledged matador he spent the +winter evenings close by Carmen's grated window, wrapped in his cape of +greenish cloth, which had a narrow collar and was made generously ample, +with vines and arabesques embroidered in black silk. + +"They say that thou dost drink much," sighed Carmen, pressing her face +against the bars. + +"Nonsense! Courtesies of friends that one has to return and nothing +more. Thou knowest that a bull-fighter is--a bull-fighter, and he is not +going to live like a begging friar." + +"They say that thou goest with bad women." + +"That's a lie! That was in other days, before I met thee. Man alive! I +would like to meet the son of a goat that carries thee such tales." + +"And when shall we get married?" she continued, cutting off her +sweetheart's indignant remarks by a question. + +"As soon as the house is finished, and would to God it were to-morrow! +That worthless brother-in-law of mine will never get it done. He knows +that it's a good thing for him and he is sleeping on his luck." + +"I'll set things to rights, Juaniyo, after we are married. Thou shalt +see how well everything will run along. Thou shalt see how thy mother +loves me." + +And so their dialogues continued while waiting for the hour of the +wedding which was being talked about all over Seville. Carmen's aunt and +uncle and Senora Angustias discussed it whenever they met, but in spite +of this the bull-fighter scarcely ever entered the home of his +betrothed. They preferred to see one another through the grille, +according to custom. + +The winter passed. Gallardo mounted his horse and went hunting in the +pasture lands of some gentlemen who _thou_-ed him with a protecting air. +He must preserve the agility of his body by continual exercise, in +preparation for the next bull-fight season. He feared losing his +strength and nimbleness. + +The most tireless propagandist of his glory was Don Jose, a gentleman +who performed the office of his manager, and always called him _his +matador_. He intervened in all Gallardo's affairs, not admitting a +better right even to his own family. He lived on his rents with no other +occupation than talking about bulls and bull-fighters. For him +bull-fights were the only interesting thing in the world and he divided +the human race into two classes, the elect nations who had bull-rings, +and the dull ones for whom there is no sun, nor joy, nor good +Andalusian wine--in spite of which they think themselves powerful and +happy though they have never seen even a single ill-fought _corrida_ of +bullocks. + +He brought to his enthusiasm the energy of a warrior and the faith of an +inquisitor. Fat, still young, bald, and with a light beard, this father +of a family, happy and gay in everyday life, was fierce and stubborn on +the benches of a ring when his neighbors expressed opinions contrary to +his. He felt himself capable of fighting the whole audience in defence +of a bull-fighter friend, and he disturbed the ovations with +extemporaneous protests when they were offered to an athlete who failed +to enjoy his affection. + +He had been a cavalry officer, more from love of horses than of war. His +corpulence and his enthusiasm for the bulls had caused him to retire +from the service. He spent the summer witnessing bull-fights and the +winter talking about them. He was eager to be the guide, the mentor, the +manager of a bull-fighter, but all the _maestros_ had their own and so +the advent of Gallardo was a stroke of fortune for him. The slightest +aspersion cast upon the merits of his favorite turned him red with fury +and converted the tauromachic dispute into a personal question. He +counted it as a glorious act of war to have come to blows in a _cafe_ +with a couple of contemptuous amateurs who criticised _his matador_ as +being too boastful. + +He felt as though there were not enough papers printed to publish +Gallardo's glory, and on winter mornings he would go and place himself +on a corner touched by a ray of sunlight at the entrance of Sierpes +Street, and as his friends passed, he would say in a loud voice, "No! +there is only one man!" as if he were talking to himself, affecting to +not see those who were drawing near. "The greatest man in the world! And +let him that thinks to the contrary speak out. The only one!" + +"Who?" asked his friends, jestingly, pretending not to understand him. + +"Who can it be? Juan!" + +"What Juan?" + +With a gesture of indignation and surprise he would answer, "What Juan +could it be? As if there were many Juans! Juan Gallardo." + +"But, man alive," some of them would say to him, "one might think you +two lie down together! It is thou, may be, that is going to get married +to him?" + +"Only because he don't want it so," Don Jose would stoutly answer, with +the fervor of idolatry. + +And on seeing other friends approach, he forgot their jibes and +continued repeating: + +"No! there is only one man. The greatest in the world. And he that +doesn't believe it let him open his beak, for here am I!" + +Gallardo's wedding was a great event. The new house was opened with +it--the house of which the leather-worker was so proud, where he showed +the courtyard, the columns, the tiles, as if all were the work of his +hands. + +They were married in San Gil, before the Virgin of Hope, called the +Virgin of Macarena. At the church door the hundreds of Chinese shawls +embroidered with exotic flowers and birds, in which the bride's friends +were draped, glistened in the sunshine. + +A deputy to the Cortes stood as best man. + +Above the black and white felts of the majority of the guests rose the +shining tall hats of the manager and other gentlemen, Gallardo's +devotees. All of them smiled with satisfaction at the deference of +popularity that was shown them on going about with the bull-fighter. + +Alms were given at the door of the house during the day. The poor came +even from the distant towns, attracted by the fame of this gorgeous +wedding. + +There was a great feast in the courtyard. Photographers took +instantaneous views for the Madrid newspapers. Gallardo's wedding was a +national event. Far into the night guitars strummed with melancholy +plaint, accompanied by hand-clapping and the click of castanets. The +girls, their arms held high, beat the marble floor with their little +feet, whirling their skirts and _mantillas_ around their slender bodies, +moving with the rhythm characteristic of the _Sevillanas_. Bottles of +rich Andalusian wines were uncorked by the dozen; from hand to hand +passed cups of ardent sherry, of strong _montilla_, and of the wine of +San Lucar, pale and perfumed. Every one was drunk but their intoxication +left them sweet, subdued, and sad, with no other manifestation than +sighs and songs, many starting at once to intone melancholy chants that +told of prisons, of deaths, and of the poor mother, the eternal theme of +the popular songs of Andalusia. + +The last guests took their leave at midnight and the bride and groom +were left in the house with Senora Angustias. The leather-worker, going +out with his wife, made a gesture of desperation. He was drunk and +furious because no one had paid him any attention during the entire +day. As if he were nobody! As if the family did not exist! + +[Illustration: Gallardo's wedding was a national event. Far into the +night guitars strummed with melancholy plaint.... Girls, their arms held +high, beat the marble floor with their little feet] + +"They cast us out, Encarnacion. That girl, with her little face like the +Virgin of Hope, is going to be mistress of everything and there won't be +even a crumb left for us. Thou shalt see how they will fill the place +with children." + +And the prolific man grew indignant thinking of Gallardo's future +offspring being brought into the world with no other purpose than to +harm his own. + +Time went on. A year passed without Senor Antonio's prediction being +fulfilled. Gallardo and his wife appeared at all the functions with the +pomp and show of a rich and popular bridal pair; she with _mantillas_ +that drew forth screams of admiration from the poor women; he, wearing +his brilliants and ever ready to draw out his pocket-book to treat the +people and to succor the beggars that came in bands. The gypsies, +coppery of skin and chattering like witches, besieged Carmen with happy +prophesies. Might God bless her! She was going to have a boy, a little +prattling babe, more beautiful than the sun itself. They read it in the +white of her eyes. + +But in vain Carmen flushed with joy and modesty, lowering her eyes; in +vain the _espada_ walked erect, proud of his achievements, believing +that the coveted fruit would soon appear. + +And then another year passed without the realization of their hopes. +Senora Angustias was sad when they spoke to her about it. She had other +grandchildren, Encarnacion's little ones, who by order of the +leather-worker spent the day in their grandmother's house trying in +every way to please their uncle. But she, wishing to compensate +Gallardo for the hardships of the past, prayed with fervent affection +for a child of his to care for, yearning to shower upon him all the love +she could not give the father in his infancy because of her poverty. + +"I know what is the matter," said the old woman sadly, "poor Carmen has +no peace of mind. Thou shouldst see that unhappy creature when Juan is +travelling about the world." + +During the winter, in the season of rest when the bull-fighter was at +home or went to the country testing bullocks and joining in the hunt, +all was well. Carmen was then content knowing that her husband was in no +danger. She laughed on the slightest pretext; she ate heartily; her face +was animated by the color of health; but as soon as the spring came and +Juan left home to fight bulls in the rings of Spain the poor girl, pale +and weak, would fall into a painful stupefaction, her eyes enlarged by +fear and ready to shed tears. + +"Seventy-two bull-fights this year," said the friends of the house, +commenting on the swordsman's contracts. "No one is so sought after as +he." + +And Carmen smiled with a grimace of pain. Seventy-two afternoons of +agony like a criminal doomed to death, awaiting the arrival of the +telegram at nightfall and at the same time dreading it! Seventy-two days +of terror, of vague superstitions, thinking that a word forgotten in a +prayer might influence the luck of the absent one! Seventy-two days of +painful paradox, living in a tranquil house, seeing the same people, her +accustomed existence running on, calm and peaceful as though nothing +extraordinary were happening in the world, hearing the play of her +husband's nephews in the courtyard and the flower-seller's song on the +street, while far, very far away, in unknown cities, her Juan, in the +presence of thousands of eyes, fought with wild beasts, seeing death +pass close to his breast at each movement of the red rag he held in his +hands! + +Ah! those days of bull-fights, feast-days, on which the sky seemed more +beautiful and the once solitary street resounded beneath the feet of the +holiday crowd, when guitars strummed with accompaniment of hand-clapping +and song in the tavern at the corner. Carmen, plainly dressed, with her +_mantilla_ over her eyes, left the house as if fleeing from evil dreams, +going to take refuge in the churches. Her simple faith, which +uncertainty burdened with superstitions, made her go from altar to altar +as she recalled to mind the merits and miracles of each image. She went +to San Gil, the church that had seen the happiest day of her existence, +she knelt before the Virgin of Macarena, provided candles, many candles, +and by their ruddy glow contemplated the brown face of the image with +its black eyes and long lashes, which, it was said, resembled her own. +In her she trusted. For a good reason was she Our Lady of Hope. Surely +at this very hour she was protecting Juan by her divine power. + +But suddenly indecision and fear rudely burst through her beliefs, +tearing them asunder. The Virgin was a woman and women are so weak! Her +destiny was to suffer and weep, as she wept for her husband, as the +other had wept for her Son. She must confide in stronger powers; she +must implore the aid of a more vigorous protection. And, in the stress +of her agony, abandoning the Macarena without scruple as a useless +friendship is forgotten, she went at other times to the church of San +Lorenzo in search of Jesus, He of the Great Power, the Man-God crowned +with thorns with the cross on his back, sweaty and tearful, the work of +the sculptor Montanes, an awe-inspiring image. + +The dramatic sadness of the Nazarene stumbling against the stones and +bent beneath the weight of the cross seemed to console the poor wife. +Lord of the Great Power! This vague and grandiose title tranquillized +her. If the god dressed in brown velvet and gold would but deign to +listen to her sighs, to her prayers repeated in eager haste, with dizzy +rapidity, she was sure that Juan would walk unscathed out of the ring +where he was at that moment. Again she would give money to a sacristan +to light candles, and she passed hours contemplating the vacillating +reflection of the red tongues on the image, believing she saw in the +varnished face, by these alternations of shade and light, smiles of +consolation, kind expressions that promised felicity. + +The Lord of Great Power did not deceive her. On her return to the house +she was presented with the little blue paper which she opened with a +trembling hand: "_As usual_." She could breathe again, she could sleep +like the criminal that is freed for the instant from immediate death; +but in two or three days again came the agony of uncertainty, the +terrible torture of doubt. + +Carmen, in spite of the love she professed for her husband, had hours of +rebellion. If she had known what this existence was before she married! +At certain moments, craving the sisterhood of pain, she went in search +of the wives of the bull-fighters who figured in Juan's _cuadrilla_, +hoping they could give her news. + +Nacional's good woman, who kept a tavern in the same ward, received the +master's wife with tranquillity, wondering at her fears. She was +accustomed to such an existence. Her husband must be all right since he +sent no word. Telegrams cost dear and a _banderillero_ earns little. If +the newsboys did not shout an accident it was because none had happened. +And she continued attentive to the service of her establishment as if no +trace of worry could make its way into her blunted sensibility. + +Again, crossing the bridge, Carmen went to the ward of Triana in search +of the wife of Potaje, the _picador_, a kind of gypsy that lived in a +hut like a hen-house surrounded by coppery, dirty youngsters whom she +threatened and terrified with stentorian yells. The visit of the +master's wife filled her with pride, but the latter's anxiety almost +made her laugh. She ought not to be afraid. Those on foot always escaped +the bull and Senor Juan Gallardo's good angel watched over him when he +threw himself upon the beasts. The bulls killed but few. The terrible +thing was being thrown from the horse. It was known to be the end of all +_picadores_ after a life of horrible falls; those who did not die +suddenly from an unforeseen and thundering accident finished their days +in madness. Thus poor Potaje would die--and so many hard struggles in +exchange for a handful of _duros_,--while others-- + +This last she did not say but her eyes revealed the protest against the +favoritism of Fate for those fine youths who, by a thrust of the sword, +took the applause, the popularity, and the money, with no greater risks +than those faced by their humbler associates. + +Little by little Carmen grew accustomed to this new life. The cruel +suspense on bull-fight days, the visits to the saints, the +superstitious fears, she accepted them all as incidents necessary to her +existence. Moreover, her husband's good luck and the continual +conversation in the house on the events of the contest finally +familiarized her with the danger. The fierce bull became for her as for +Gallardo a generous and noble beast come into the world with no other +purpose than to enrich and give fame to those who kill him. + +She never attended a bull-fight. Since that afternoon on which she saw +him who was to be her husband in his first _novillada_, she had not +returned to the plaza. She lacked courage to witness a bull-fight, even +one in which Gallardo did not take part. She would faint with terror on +seeing other men face the danger dressed in the same costume as her +Juan. + +In the third year of their marriage Gallardo was wounded at Valencia. +Carmen did not know it at once. The telegram arrived on time with the +customary, "_As usual_." It was a merciful act of Don Jose, the manager, +who, visiting Carmen every day and resorting to skilful jugglery to +prevent her reading the papers, put off her knowledge of the misfortune +for a week. + +When Carmen heard of it through the indiscretion of some neighbor women +she wished to take the train immediately to go to her husband, to take +care of him, for she imagined him abandoned. It was not necessary. +Before she could start the swordsman arrived, pale from the loss of +blood, and with one leg doomed to a long season of immobility, but happy +and anxious to tranquillize his family. The house was from that time a +kind of sanctuary, hundreds passing through the courtyard to greet +Gallardo, "the greatest man in the world," seated there in a big willow +chair with his leg on a tabourette and smoking as tranquilly as though +his body were not torn by an atrocious wound. + +Doctor Ruiz, who came with him to Seville, prophesied that he would be +well before a month, marvelling at the energy of his constitution. The +facility with which bull-fighters were cured was a mystery to him in +spite of his long practice of surgery. The horn, dirty with blood and +animal excrement, often breaking into splinters at the blow, tore the +flesh, scratched it, perforated it, making at once a deep penetrating +injury and a bruised contusion, and yet these atrocious wounds healed +with greater ease than those in ordinary life. + +"I don't know what it is, this mystery," said the old surgeon with an +air of doubt. "Either those boys have got the flesh of a dog, or else +the horn, with all its filth, carries a curative virtue that is unknown +to us." + +A short time afterward, Gallardo went back to bull-fighting, his ardor +uncooled by the accident, contrary to the prediction of his enemies. + +Four years after his marriage the swordsman gave his wife and mother a +great surprise. They were becoming landed proprietors, yea, proprietors +on a great scale, with lands "stretching beyond view," with olive +orchards, mills, great flocks and herds, and a plantation like those of +the rich gentlemen of Seville. + +Gallardo experienced the desire of all bull-fighters, who long to be +lords over lands, breeders of horses, and owners of herds of cattle. +Urban wealth? No. Values in paper do not tempt them nor do they +understand them. The bull makes them think of the green meadow; the +horse recalls the country to their minds. The continual necessity of +movement and exercise, the hunt, and constant travel during the winter +months, cause them to desire the possession of land. According to +Gallardo the only rich man was he who owned a plantation and great herds +of animals. Since his days of poverty, when he had tramped along the +roads through olive orchards and pasture grounds, he had nursed his +fervent desire to possess leagues and leagues of land, enclosed with +barbed-wire fences against the depredation of other men. + +His manager knew these desires. Don Jose it was who took charge of his +affairs, collecting the money from the ring-managers and carrying an +account that he tried in vain to explain to his _matador_. + +"I don't understand that music," said Gallardo, content in his +ignorance, "I only know how to despatch bulls. Do whatever you wish, Don +Jose; I have confidence in you and I know that you do everything for my +good." So Don Jose, who scarcely ever thought about his own property, +leaving it to the weak administration of his wife, occupied himself at +all hours with the bull-fighter's fortune, placing his money at interest +with the heart of a usurer to make it fruitful. One day he fell upon his +client joyfully. + +"I have what thou desirest, a plantation like a world, and besides, it +is very cheap; a regular bargain. Next week we will get it into +writing." + +Gallardo was eager to know the name and situation of the plantation. + +"It is called La Rinconada." + +His desires were fulfilled! When Gallardo went with his wife and mother +to take possession of the plantation he showed them the hayloft where +he had slept with the companions of his wandering misery, the room in +which he had dined with the master, and the little plaza where he had +stabbed a calf, earning for the first time the right to travel by train +without having to hide beneath the seats. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +THE LURE OF GOLDEN HAIR + + +On winter evenings when Gallardo was not at La Rinconada, a company of +friends gathered in the dining-room of his house after supper. Among the +first arrivals were the leather-worker and his wife, who always had two +of their children in the swordsman's home. Carmen, wishing to forget her +barrenness and oppressed by the silence of the great dwelling, kept her +sister-in-law's youngest children with her most of the time. They, +partly from spontaneous affection and partly by command of their +parents, affectionately caressed with kissings and cat-like purrings +their handsome aunt and their generous and popular uncle. + +When Nacional came to spend an hour with them, although the visit was +rather a matter of duty, the circle was always enlivened. Gallardo, +dressed in a rich jacket like a country gentleman, his head uncovered, +and his coleta smooth and shiny, received his _banderillero_ with +waggish amiability. What were the devotees saying? What lies were they +circulating? How was the republic coming along? + +"Garabato, give Sebastian a glass of wine." + +But Nacional refused this courtesy. No wine for him! He did not drink. +Wine was to blame for the failures of the laboring class; and the whole +party on hearing this broke out into a laugh, as though he had made +some witty remark which they had been expecting. Then the +_banderillero_ began to be entertaining. + +The only one who remained silent, with hostile eyes, was the +leather-worker. He hated Nacional, regarding him as an enemy. He also +was prolific in his fidelity, as befits a man of good principles, so +that a swarm of young children buzzed about the little tavern clinging +to the mother's skirts. Gallardo and his wife had been god-parents to +the two youngest, thus uniting the swordsman and the _banderillero_ in +the relationship of _compadres_. Hypocrite! Every Sunday he brought the +two god-children, dressed in their best, to kiss the hand of their +sponsors in baptism, and the leather-worker paled with indignation +whenever he saw Nacional's children receive a present. They came to rob +his own. Maybe the _banderillero_ even dreamt that a part of the +swordsman's fortune might fall into the hands of these god-children. +Thief! A man who was not of the family! + +When he did not receive Nacional's words in silence and with looks of +hatred he tried to censure him, showing himself in favor of the +immediate shooting of all who stir up rebellion and are in consequence a +danger to good citizens. + +Nacional was ten years older than the _maestro_. When Gallardo began to +fight in the capeas he was already a _banderillero_ in professional +_cuadrillas_ and he had been to America where he had killed bulls in the +plaza at Lima. At the beginning of his career he enjoyed a certain +popularity on account of being young and agile. He had also shone for a +few days as "the bull-fighter of the future," and the Sevillian +connoisseurs, their eyes upon him, expected him to eclipse the +bull-fighters from other lands. But this lasted only a short while. On +his return from his travels with the prestige of hazy and distant +exploits, the populace rushed to the bull-plaza of Seville to see him +kill. Thousands were unable to get in; but at the moment of final trial +"he lacked heart," as the amateurs said. He lodged the _banderillas_ +with skill, like a conscientious and serious workman who fulfils his +duty, but when he went in to kill the instinct of self-preservation, +stronger than his will, kept him at a distance from the bull and +prevented his taking advantage of his stature and his strong arm. +Nacional renounced the highest glories of tauromachy. _Banderillero_, +nothing more! He resigned himself to be a journeyman of his art, serving +others younger than himself and earning a meagre salary as a _peon_ to +support his family and lay by some scanty savings to establish a small +industry by and by. His kindness and his honest habits were proverbial +among the people of the _coleta_. The wife of his _matador_ was fond of +him, believing him a kind of guardian angel of her husband's fidelity. + +When, in summer, Gallardo with all his people went to a music hall in +some provincial capital, eager for gambling and sport after having +despatched the bulls in several _corridas_, Nacional remained silent and +grave among the singing girls with their gauzy dress and their painted +lips, like an anchorite from the desert in the midst of the courtesans +of Alexandria. He was not scandalized but he grew sad thinking of the +wife and children that waited for him in Seville. All defects and +corruptions in the world were, in his opinion, the result of lack of +education. Of course those poor women did not know how to read and +write. The same was true of himself and, as he attributed his +insignificance and poverty of intellect to that, he laid all misery and +degradation in the world to the same cause. In his early youth he had +been an iron-founder and an active member of the International Workmen's +Union, an assiduous listener to his more fortunate fellow-workmen who +could read in a loud voice what the newspapers said of the welfare of +the people. He played at soldiering in the days of the national militia, +figuring in the battalions which wore the red cap as the sign of being +implacable federalist propagandists. He spent whole days before the +platforms raised in the public squares, where various societies declared +themselves in permanent session and orators succeeded one another day +and night, haranguing with Andalusian fluency about the divinity of +Jesus and the increase in the price of articles of prime necessity, +until, when hard times came, a strike left him in the trying situation +of the workman black-listed on account of his ideas, finding himself +turned away from every shop. + +He liked bull-fighting and he became a _torero_ at twenty-four, just as +he might have chosen any other trade. He, moreover, knew a great deal +and talked with contempt of the absurdities of the present state of +society. Not for nothing does one spend years hearing the papers read! +However ill he might fare at bull-fighting he would surely earn more and +have an easier life than if he were a skilled workman. The people, +remembering the time when he shouldered the musket of the popular +militia, nicknamed him Nacional. + +He spoke of the taurine profession with a certain regret, in spite of +the years he had spent therein, and he apologized for belonging to it. +The committee of his district, who had decreed the expulsion of all who +attended bull-fights on account of their barbarous and retrograding +influence, had made an exception in his favor, retaining him as an +active member in good standing. + +"I know," he said in Gallardo's dining-room, "that this business of the +bulls is a reactionary thing--something belonging to the times of the +Inquisition; I don't know whether I explain myself. The people need to +learn to read and write as much as they need bread and it is not well +for them to spend their money on us while they so greatly lack +schooling. That is what the papers that come from Madri' say. But the +club members appreciate me, and the committee, after a long preachment +from Don Joselito, have agreed to keep me on the roll of membership." + +Don Joselito, the school teacher and chairman of the committee of the +district, was a learned young man of Israelitish extraction who brought +to the political struggle the ardor of the Maccabees and was +undistressed by his brown ugliness and his small-pox scars because they +gave him a certain likeness to Danton. Nacional always listened to him +open-mouthed. + +When Don Jose, Gallardo's business manager, and other friends of the +master, jokingly disputed his doctrines at those after-dinner +gatherings, making extravagant objections, poor Nacional was in +suspense, scratching his forehead from perplexity. + +"You are gentlemen and have studied and I don't know how to read or +write. That is why we of the lower class are like sheep. But if only Don +Joselito were here! By the life of the blue dove! If you could hear him +when he lets loose and talks like an angel!" + +To fortify his faith, somewhat weakened by the assaults of the jokers, +he would go the following day to see Don Joselito, who seemed to +luxuriate in bitterness, as a descendant of the persecuted chosen +people, and look over what Joselito called his museum of horrors. The +Hebrew, returned to the native land of his forefathers, was collecting +relics of the Inquisition in a room of the school, with the vengeful +accuracy of a prisoner who might reconstruct bone by bone the skeleton +of his jailor. In a bookcase stood rows of parchment tomes--decrees of +sentences pronounced by the Inquisition and catechisms for interrogating +the offender undergoing torture. On one wall hung a white banner with +the dreaded green cross. In the corners were heaped instruments of +torture--frightful scourges and fiendish devices for cleaving, for +stripping and tearing human flesh, that Don Joselito found in the shops +of the curio-dealers and catalogued as ancient belongings of the Holy +Office. Nacional's kind and simple soul, easily roused to anger, rose in +rebellion at the sight of these rusty irons and green crosses. + +"Man alive! And yet there are those that say--! By the life of the dove! +I would like to see some folks here!" + +Often in summer, when the _cuadrilla_ was going from one province to +another and Gallardo went into the second class carriage in which "the +boys" were travelling, some rural priest or pair of friars would get on +board. The _banderilleros_ would nudge each other with their elbows and +wink one eye looking at Nacional, who seemed even more grave and solemn +in the presence of the enemy. The _picadores_, Potaje and Tragabuches, +lusty aggressive fellows, lovers of riots and fights who felt a decided +aversion to the ecclesiastical dress, urged him on in a loud voice. + +"There's thy chance! Go at him for the good cause! Lodge one of thy +yarns in the nape of his neck." + +The _maestro_, with all his authority as chief of _cuadrilla_, against +which none may parley nor argue, rolled his eyes, and looked at +Nacional, who maintained a silent obedience. But stronger than duty was +the impulse of his simple soul to convert, and an insignificant word was +enough to open a discussion with the travellers, to try to convince them +of the truth; and the truth was for him a kind of confused and +disordered remnant of arguments learned from Don Joselito. + +His comrades looked at each other astonished at the wisdom of their +companion, well pleased that one of them should face professional people +and put them in a tight place, for they were almost invariably priests +of little learning. And the holy men, astounded at Nacional's confused +reasoning and the smiles of the other bull-fighters, finally resorted to +an extreme measure. Did men who continually exposed their lives to peril +take no thought of God and believe in such things as he said? At this +very moment how their wives and mothers must be praying for them! + +The men of the _cuadrilla_ grew serious, thinking with timorous gravity +of the scapularies and medallions feminine hands had sewed to their +fighting garments before they left Seville. The _matador_, his sleeping +superstition aroused, was angry with Nacional, as though in this lack of +piety he foresaw danger to his life. + +"Keep still and don't talk any more of your crudities. Pardon, Senores! +He is a good man but his head has been turned by so many lies. Shut up +and don't give me any impertinence. Damn it all!" + +And Gallardo, to tranquillize these gentlemen whom he believed to be +trustees of the future, overwhelmed the _banderillero_ with threats and +curses. + +Nacional took refuge in disdainful silence. All ignorance and +superstition! All from lack of knowing how to read and write! And firm +in his beliefs, with the simplicity of a man who possesses only two or +three ideas and will not let go of them, he took up the discussion again +in a few hours--paying no heed to the anger of the _matador_. + +He carried his impiety even into the midst of the ring, among _peones_ +and pikemen who, after having said a prayer in the chapel of the plaza, +went into the arena with the hope that the sacred emblems sewed to their +clothing would deliver them from danger. + +When the time came to stick the barbs into some enormous bull of great +weight, thick neck, and deep black color, Nacional stood up before him +with his arms extended and the barbs in his hands, shouting insults at +him: + +"Come on, you old priest!" + +The "priest" dashed forward furiously, and as he approached, Nacional +lodged the _banderillas_ in the nape of his neck with all his strength, +saying in a loud voice, as if he had gained a victory: + +"For the clergy!" + +Gallardo ended by laughing at Nacional's extravagances. + +"Thou makest me ridiculous. Our _cuadrilla_ will be branded as a herd of +heretics. Thou knowest that some audiences don't like that. The +bull-fighter should only fight bulls." + +Nevertheless, he loved his _banderillero_, mindful of his attachment +which had sometimes risen to the point of sacrifice. Nacional cared not +if he were hissed when he lodged the _banderillas_ carelessly in +dangerous bulls as a result of his desire to get through quickly. He +cared nothing for glory and only fought bulls for his wage. But the +moment Gallardo walked sword in hand toward a treacherous bull the +_banderillero_ kept near him, ready to aid him with his heavy cape and +his strong arm which had humbled the necks of so many wild beasts. Twice +when Gallardo rolled on the sand, nearly caught by the dagger-like +horns, Nacional threw himself upon the animal forgetting his wife, his +children, his little tavern, everything, ready to die to save his +_maestro_. He was received in Gallardo's dining-room in the evenings, +therefore, as though he were a member of the family. + +Gallardo and Don Jose, who sat across the table smoking, the glass of +cognac within reach of the hand, liked to start Nacional to talking so +as to laugh at his ideas, and they teased him by insulting Don +Joselito--a liar who turned the heads of the ignorant! + +The _banderillero_ took the jokes of the swordsman and his manager +calmly. Doubt Don Joselito? Such an absurdity could not move him--no +more than if they should attack his other idol, Gallardo, telling him he +did not know how to kill a bull. + +But when the leather-worker, who inspired him with an irresistible +aversion, began to joke him he lost composure. Who was that hungry +fellow who lived by hanging onto his master, to dare to dispute him! +And losing self-command, forgetting the presence of the master's wife +and mother and of Encarnacion, who, imitating her husband, curled her +be-whiskered lip and looked scornfully at the _banderillero_, he rushed +down grade into an exposition of his views with the same fervor with +which he discoursed in the committee. For lack of better arguments he +overwhelmed the ideas of the jokers with insults. + +"The Bible? _Liquid!_ That nonsense about creation of the world in six +days? _Liquid!_ That about Adam and Eve? _Liquid_, also! All lies and +superstition." + +And the word _liquid_, applied to whatever he believed false or +insignificant, fell from his lips as a strong expression of scorn. "That +about Adam and Eve" was for him a subject of sarcasm. How could all +human beings be descendants from one pair only? + +"My name is Sebastian Venegas; and thou, Juaniyo, thy name is Gallardo; +and you, Don Jose, have your surname; and every one has his own, only +those of the parents being alike. If we were all grandchildren of Adam, +and Adam, for example, was named Perez, we would all have Perez for a +surname. Is that clear? But every one of us has his own because there +were many Adams and what the priests tell is all _liquid!_ Superstition +and ignorance! We lack education and they deceive us; I think I explain +myself." + +Gallardo, throwing himself back with laughter, saluted his +_banderillero_, imitating the bellowing of a bull. The business manager, +with Andalusian gravity, offered him his hand, congratulating him. + +"Shake, old boy! Thou hast done well! Not even Castelar could have done +better!" + +Senora Angustias was indignant at hearing such things in her house, +horrified with the terror of an old woman who sees the end of her +existence drawing near. + +"Shut up, Sebastian; shut thy big, wicked mouth, lost soul, or into the +street thou goest! Thou shalt not say those things here, thou devil! If +I did not know thee--If I did not know that thou art a good man--" + +Finally she became reconciled to the _banderillero_, remembering how +much he loved her Juan and what he had done for him in moments of +danger. Moreover, it gave her and Carmen great ease of mind to know that +this serious man of decent habits worked in the _cuadrilla_ by the side +of the other "boys" and of the _matador_ himself, who, when he was +alone, was excessively gay in disposition and let himself be carried +away by the desire to be admired by women. + +The enemy of the clergy and of Adam and Eve guarded a secret of his +_maestro_, however, that made him reserved and grave when he saw him at +home with his mother and Senora Carmen. If these women knew what _he_ +knew! + +In spite of the respect which every _banderillero_ should show his +_matador_ Nacional had dared one day to talk to Gallardo with rough +frankness, relying on his years and on their old friendship. + +"Be careful, Juaniyo, for everybody in Seville knows the whole story! +They talk of nothing else and the news is going to reach your house and +there'll be such a riot it'll set fire to the hair of God himself--Don't +forget about that affair with the singing girl; and that was nothing! +This creature is more forceful and more dangerous." + +"But what creature is that? And what riots are those thou art talking +about?" + +"Who can it be? Dona Sol; that great lady who makes so much talk. The +niece of the Marquis of Moraima, the cattle-breeder." + +And as the swordsman was smiling and silent, flattered by Nacional's +exact information, the latter continued with the air of a preacher +proclaiming the vanities of this world, "The married man should above +all things seek the tranquillity of his house. Women! _Liquid!_ They are +all alike and it is nonsense to embitter one's life jumping from one to +another. I am a married man and in the twenty-four years I have lived +with my Teresa I have never been faithless to her even in thought, +although I am a bull-fighter; and I had my day and more than one lass +has cast tender eyes at me." + +Gallardo burst out laughing at his _banderillero_. He talked like a +father-superior. And was this the same man that wanted to eat the +priests up raw? + +"Nacional, don't be hard on me. Every one is what he is and since the +women come, let them come. What does one live for? Any day he may go out +of the ring foot foremost. Besides, thou knowest nothing of the affair, +nor what a lady is. If thou couldst _see_ that woman!" + +Then he ingenuously added, as if he wished to counter-act the expression +of scandal and sadness engraved on Nacional's countenance: + +"I love Carmen very much, dost thou understand? I love her as well as +ever; but the other I love too. That is different. I don't know how to +explain it to thee. That's another matter. Drop it!" + +And the _banderillero_ could make no further headway in his +expostulation with Gallardo. + +Months before, when with the autumn came the end of the bull-fighting +season, the swordsman had had an adventure at the Church of San Lorenzo. +He was resting in Seville a few days before going to La Rinconada with +his family. To kill more than a hundred bulls a year with all the danger +and strain of the contest did not weary him so much as the ceaseless +travel from one end of Spain to the other during a period of several +months. These journeys were made in mid-summer, under a blistering sun, +over parched plains and in old cars whose roofs seemed to be on fire. +The water-jar belonging to the _cuadrilla_, filled at every station, was +not enough to quench the thirst. Moreover, the trains ran crowded with +passengers--people going to the fairs in the cities to see the +bull-fights. Often Gallardo, for fear of missing the train, killed his +last bull in one plaza, and, still dressed in his fighting costume, +rushed to the train, passing like a meteor of light and color among the +groups of travellers and baggage trucks, and changed his clothes in a +first-class compartment under the gaze of the passengers, who were glad +to travel with a celebrity. + +When he arrived, worn-out, at some city where the streets were in festal +array, decorated with banners and arches, he had to endure the torment +of enthusiastic adoration. The connoisseurs and his personal adherents +met him at the station and accompanied him to his hotel. They were +well-rested and happy folk who grasped him by the hand and expected to +find him expansive and loquacious, as though on meeting them he must +perforce experience the greatest pleasure. + +Frequently a single _corrida_ was not all. He had to fight bulls three +or four days in succession, and when night came, exhausted from +weariness and lack of sleep on account of his recent excitement, he gave +up all social affairs and sat at the door of the hotel in his +shirt-sleeves, enjoying the fresh air of the street. The "boys" of the +_cuadrilla_ lodged at the same inn and kept near the _maestro_, like a +brotherhood in a cloister. Some of the most audacious would ask +permission to take a walk along the illuminated streets and out to the +fair grounds. + +"Miuras to-morrow!" said the _matador_. "I know what those walks are. +Thou wilt return at daybreak with two glasses too many and thou'lt not +fail to have some kind of an affair to take thy strength. No; thou canst +not go. When we get through thou mayest play." + +And the work over, if there were a few days of liberty before the next +_corrida_ in some other city, the _cuadrilla_ would put off the trip, +and then the gay time would begin, far from the restraint of their +families, with abundance of wine and women in company with enthusiastic +devotees, who imagined this to be the everyday life of their idols. + +The divers dates of the _fiestas_ obliged the swordsman to take absurd +journeys. He would leave one city to work in the other extreme of Spain, +and four days later he would return, fighting bulls in a town near the +first one. He almost spent the summer months, when _corridas_ were most +frequent, in the train, making a continual zigzag over all the railroads +of the Peninsula, killing bulls in the plazas, and sleeping on the +cars. + +"If all my summer travel were arranged in a straight line," said +Gallardo, "it would sure reach to the North Pole." + +At the beginning of the season he started on his travels with +enthusiasm, thinking of the multitude that talked of him throughout the +whole year, impatiently awaiting his coming; he thought of the +unforeseen events; of the adventures that feminine curiosity would +frequently yield him; of the life from hotel to hotel, with its changes, +its annoyances, its varied meals, that contrasted strongly with the +placid existence in Seville and the days of mountain solitude at La +Rinconada. But after a few weeks of this giddy life, in which he earned +five thousand pesetas for each afternoon of work, Gallardo began to +lament, like a child far from its family. + +"Ah! My cool house in Seville! Poor Carmen who keeps it shining like a +little silver cup! Ah! _Mamita's_ cooking! So rich!" + +He only forgot Seville on holiday nights, when he did not have to fight +bulls the following day; when all the _cuadrilla_, surrounded by +devotees anxious to give them a good impression of the city, gathered at +a _cafe flamenco_ where women and songs were all for the _maestro_. + +When Gallardo went home to recuperate during the remainder of the year +he felt the satisfaction of the mighty who, forgetting honors, give +themselves up to the comforts of ordinary life. + +He slept late, free from the tyranny of train schedules and unstirred by +any emotion when he thought of bulls. Nothing to do this day, nor the +next, nor the next! His travel ended at Sierpes Street, or the plaza of +San Fernando. The family seemed changed, happier and in better health, +having him safe at home for a few months. He went out with his hat on +the back of his head, twirling his gold-headed cane and admiring the big +brilliants on his fingers. In the vestibule some men were waiting for +him,--sun-browned men with a sour, sweaty, stench, wearing dirty blouses +and broad hats with ragged rims. Some were field laborers out on a +tramp, who thought it quite natural on passing through Seville to obtain +help from the famous _matador_ whom they called Senor Juan. Others lived +in the city, and _thou_-ed the bull-fighter, calling him Juaniyo. + +Gallardo, with a memory for faces characteristic of a public man, +recognized them and permitted their familiarity. They were comrades of +his few school days or his youthful vagabondage. + +"Business not going well, eh? Times are hard for everybody." + +And before this friendliness could encourage them to greater intimacy he +turned to Garabato who stood holding the gate open. + +"Tell the _senora_ to give thee a couple of _pesetas_ for each one." + +Then he went out into the street whistling, pleased with his generosity +and the beauty of his life. He was detained on the next block by a +couple of old women, friends of his mother, who asked him to stand as +godfather to the grandchild of one of them. Her poor daughter was about +to become a mother at any moment; her son-in-law, an ardent Gallardist, +had come to blows several times going out of the plaza in defence of his +idol but dared not speak to him. + +"But, damn it! Do you take me for the director of an orphan asylum? +I've got more god-children than there are in the poor-house." + +To rid himself of them he told them to see his _mamita_. Whatever she +said should stand! And he went on, not stopping until he reached Sierpes +Street, bowing to some and giving others the honor of walking at his +side in glorious intimacy before the gaze of the passersby. + +He looked in at the Forty-five Club, to see if his manager were there. +This was an aristocratic society of a limited membership, as its title +indicated, in which the talk was only of bulls and horses. It was +composed of gentlemen-amateurs and cattle-breeders, the Marquis of +Moraima figuring preeminently, like an oracle. + +On one of these walks, one afternoon, Gallardo found himself sauntering +along Sierpes Street, and took a notion to enter the parish chapel of +San Lorenzo. In the little square before it stood luxurious carriages. +On this day the best families were wont to pray to the miraculous image +of Our Lord Jesus of the Great Power. Ladies stepped out of the coaches, +dressed in black, with rich _mantillas_; and men went into the church +attracted by the feminine assemblage. + +Gallardo entered also. A bull-fighter must take advantage of +opportunities to rub elbows with persons of high position. The son of +Senora Angustias felt the pride of a conqueror when rich gentlemen bowed +to him and elegant ladies murmured his name, turning their eyes upon +him. Moreover, he was a devotee of the Lord of the Great Power. He +tolerated in Nacional his opinions on "God or Nature" without being much +shocked, for the Divinity meant for him something vague and indefinite, +like the existence of a great lord about whom one might listen calmly +to all kinds of blasphemy, because he is only known by hearsay. But the +Virgin of Hope and Jesus of the Great Power he had been accustomed to +seeing since his earliest years, and these must not be maligned. The +susceptibilities of the lusty youth were touched by the theatrical agony +of the Christ with the cross on his back, the sweaty countenance, +painful and livid like that of comrades he had seen stretched out in the +infirmaries of the bull-plazas. He must be on good terms with this +powerful lord and he fervently uttered several _pater-nosters_, standing +before the image, with the candles like red stars reflected in the +corneas of his Moorish eyes. + +A movement among the women kneeling before him distracted his attention, +which had been absorbed in a plea for supernatural intervention whenever +his life should be in danger. + +A lady passed among the worshippers, attracting their notice; she was a +tall, slender woman, of astounding beauty, dressed in light colors and +wearing a great hat with plumes beneath which shone the luminous gold of +her abundant hair. + +Gallardo knew her. It was Dona Sol, the Marquis of Moraima's niece, the +"Ambassadress," as they called her in Seville. She passed among the +women paying no attention to their movements of curiosity, satisfied to +win their glances and to hear the murmur of their words as though this +were a natural homage that should follow her appearance in any public +place. The foreign elegance of her dress and her enormous hat were +outlined in their showy splendor against the dark mass of feminine +toilettes. She knelt, inclined her head as if in prayer for a few +moments, and then her light eyes of greenish blue, with their +reflections of gold, roved about the temple tranquilly as though she +were in a theatre examining the audience, searching for familiar faces. +Those eyes seemed to smile when they encountered the face of a friend +and persisted in their roving until they met Gallardo's, which were +fixed upon her. The _matador_ was not modest. Accustomed to being +himself the object of contemplation of thousands and thousands of +persons on bull-fight afternoons, he might well believe that, wherever +he was, the looks of all must of course be meant for him. Many women, in +hours of confidence, had revealed to him their emotion, the curiosity +and desire they felt on seeing him for the first time in the ring. Dona +Sol's gaze did not fall as it met the bull-fighter's; instead it +remained fixed, with the frigidity of a great lady, obliging the +_matador_, ever respectful to the rich, to turn his eyes away. + +"What a woman!" thought Gallardo, with the petulance of a popular idol. +"Can that _gachi_ be for me?" + +Outside of the church he felt a desire to wait, and he remained near the +door. His heart warned him of something extraordinary, as on afternoons +when good fortune was coming. It was that mysterious presentiment which +in the ring made him deaf to the protests of the public, throwing +himself headlong into the greatest dangers, and always with excellent +results. When she came out of the church she again looked at him +strangely, as if she had guessed that he would be waiting for her. She +stepped into an open carriage accompanied by two friends, and when the +coachman drove away she still turned her head to see the bull-fighter, a +faint smile on her lips. + +Gallardo was distracted the remainder of the afternoon--thinking of his +former love affairs, of the triumphs of admiration and curiosity that +his bull-fighter's arrogance had won for him; conquests that filled him +with pride and made him think himself irresistible, but which now +inspired him with a kind of shame. A woman like that, a great lady, who +had travelled about the world and lived in Seville like an unthroned +queen! That would be a conquest! To his admiration of beauty was united +a certain reverence derived from ancient servitude, of respect for the +rich in a country where birth and fortune possess great importance. If +he should manage to claim the attention of that woman, what a tremendous +triumph! + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +THE VOICE OF THE SIREN + + +Don Jose, firm friend of the Marquis of Moraima, and related to the best +families of Seville, had often talked to Gallardo concerning Dona Sol. + +She had returned to Seville only a few months before, arousing the +enthusiasm of the young people. She came, after a long absence in +foreign lands, eager for everything pertaining to _la tierra_, enjoying +the popular customs and finding it all very interesting, "very +artistic." She went to the bull-fights arrayed in the ancient costume of +a _maja_, imitating the dress and pose of the beautiful women painted by +Goya. Strong, accustomed to sports, and a great horsewoman, the people +saw her galloping around the outskirts of Seville, wearing with her +black riding skirt a man's jacket, a red cravat, and a white beaver hat +perched on top of her golden hair. Sometimes she carried a spear across +the pommel of the saddle and with a party of friends converted into +_piqueros_, she went to the pasture grounds to tease and upset bulls, +enjoying this wild festivity, abounding as it did in danger. She was not +a child. Gallardo had a confused recollection of having seen her in his +youth on the _paseo_ of Delicias, seated beside her mother and covered +with white frills, like a luxurious doll in a show-case, while he, a +miserable vagabond, dashed under the wheels of the carriage in search of +cigar stubs. They were undoubtedly the same age,--she must be at the +end of the twenties; but how magnificent! So different from other women! +She seemed like an exotic bird, a bird of paradise, fallen into a +farmyard among mere shiny, well fed hens. + +Don Jose knew her history. An eccentric mind had Dona Sol! Her mother +was dead and she had a considerable fortune. She had married in Madrid a +certain man older than herself, who offered to a woman eager for +splendor and novelty the advantages of travelling about the world as the +wife of an ambassador who represented Spain at the principal courts. + +"The way that girl has amused herself, Juan!" said the manager. "The +heads she has turned in ten years from one end of Europe to the other! +She must be a regular geography with secret notes at the foot of each +page. Surely she cannot look at the map without making a little cross of +memory near all the great capitals. And the poor ambassador! He died, of +despondency, no doubt, because there was no longer any place to which he +could be sent. The good gentleman, accredited to represent our country, +would go to a court and inside of a year, behold! the queen or the +empress of that land was writing to Spain asking the minister to retire +the ambassador and his dreaded consort, whom the newspapers called 'the +irresistible Spanish woman.' The crowned heads that _gachi_ has turned! +Queens trembled when they saw her come, as if she were the Asiatic +cholera. At last the poor ambassador saw no other place for his talents +but the republics of America, but as he was a gentleman of good +principles and the friend of kings, he preferred to die. And don't think +that the girl contented herself only with personages who eat and dance +in royal palaces. Not if what they say be true! That child is all +extremes; it is all or nothing! She will as soon go after one that digs +in the ground as the highest above it. I have heard that there in Russia +she was running after one of those bushy-haired fellows that throw +bombs, a youth with a woman's face, who paid no attention to her because +she disturbed him in his business. But the girl kept chasing and chasing +after him until finally they hung him. They say, too, that she had an +affair with a painter in Paris, and they even say he painted her in the +nude, with one arm over her face so as not to be recognized, and that +the picture travels around that way on match-boxes. That must be false; +an exaggeration! What seems more certain is that she was the great +friend of a German, a musician--one of those who write operas. If thou +couldst hear her play the piano! And when she sings! Just like one of +those singers that come to the theatre of San Fernando in the Easter +season. And think not that she sings in Italian only; she talks +anything--French, German, English. Her uncle, the Marquis of Moraima, +when he talks about her at the Forty-five says he has his suspicions +that she speaks Latin. What a woman! Eh, Juanillo? What an interesting +creature! + +"In Seville," he went on, "she leads an exemplary life. On that account +I think what they tell of her foreign affairs may be false; lies of +certain young cocks that go for grapes and find them sour." + +And laughing at the spirit of this woman, who at times was as bold and +as aggressive as a man, he repeated the rumors that had circulated in +certain clubs on Sierpes Street. When the "Ambassadress" came to live in +Seville, all the young people had formed a court around her. + +"Imagine, Juanillo, an elegant woman, different from those around here, +bringing her clothes and hats from Paris, her perfume from London; +besides being a friend of kings, branded with the brand of the finest +stock in Europe, so to speak. They followed in her wake like mad men, +and the girl permitted them certain liberties, wanting to live among +them like a man. But some of them transgressed the bounds, mistaking +familiarity for something else, and, at a loss for words, they made too +free with their hands. Then there were blows, Juan, and something worse. +That young lady is dangerous. It seems that she shoots at a mark, that +she knows how to box like an English sailor, and knows besides, that +Japanese way of fighting that they call _jitsu_. To sum it all up, if a +Christian dares to give her a pinch, she, with her dainty little fists, +without even getting angry, will grasp thee and leave thee torn to +shreds. Now they attack her less, but she has enemies who go about +talking evil of her; some praising what is a lie, others even denying +that she is clever." + +Dona Sol, according to the manager, was enthusiastic over life in +Seville. After a long sojourn in cold, foggy lands she admired the +intensely blue sky and the winter sun of soft gold, and she discoursed +on the sweetness of life in this country--_so picturesque!_ + +"The simplicity of our customs fills her with enthusiasm. She is like +one of those English women that come in Holy Week--as if she had not +been born in Seville; as if she saw it for the first time! They say she +spends her summers in foreign cities and her winters here. She is tired +of her life in palaces and courts, and if thou didst but see the people +she goes with! She has made them receive her like a sister in the +convent of Cristo de Triana and that of the Most Holy Cachorro, and she +has spent a pot of money on wine for the brotherhood. Some nights she +fills her house with guitarists and dancers, for so many girls in +Seville are good singers and dancers. With them go their teachers and +their families, even to their most distant relatives; they all stuff +themselves with olives, sausages, and wine, and Dona Sol, seated in a +big chair like a queen, spends the hours demanding dance after dance, +all which must be native to the country. They say this is a diversion +equal to that which was given to I don't know what king, who had operas +sung for himself alone. Her servants, foreign fellows that have come +with her, long-faced and serious as parrots, go about in their evening +dress with great trays, passing glasses to the dancers who in plain +sight box their ears and snap olive stones in their eyes. Most honest +and diverting games! Now, Dona Sol receives Lechuzo in the mornings, an +old gypsy who gives guitar lessons, master of the purest style; and when +her visitors don't find her with the instrument on her lap, she is with +an orange in her hand. The oranges that creature has eaten since she +came! And still she isn't satisfied!" + +Thus continued Don Jose, explaining to his _matador_ the eccentricities +of Dona Sol. + +Four days after Gallardo had seen her in the parish church of San +Lorenzo, the manager approached the _matador_ in a _cafe_ on Sierpes +Street with an air of mystery. + +"_Gacho_, thou art a child of good fortune. Knowest who has been talking +to me about thee?" + +And putting his mouth close to the bull-fighter's ear he whispered, +"Dona Sol!" + +She had asked him about his _matador_, and expressed a desire to meet +him. She was such an original type! So Spanish! + +"She says she has seen thee kill several times, once in Madrid and +again, I know not where. She has applauded thee. She recognizes that +thou are very brave. What if she should take up with thee! Imagine it! +What an honor! Thou wouldst be a brother-in-law, or something like that, +of all the high-toned fellows on the European calendar of swells." + +Gallardo smiled modestly, lowering his eyes, but at the same time he +twisted his handsome person proudly as if he did not consider his +manager's hypothesis either difficult or extraordinary. + +"But do not form illusions, Juanillo," continued he; "Dona Sol wishes to +study a bull-fighter at close range, with the same interest that she +takes lessons from the master Lechuzo. Local color and nothing more! +'Bring him day after to-morrow to Tablada,' she told me. Thou knowest +what that will be--a baiting of the cattle of the Moraima herd; an +entertainment the Marquis has gotten up to divert his niece. We will go; +she has invited me also." + +Two days later, in the afternoon, the _maestro_ and his manager started +from the ward of the Feria like gentlemen _picadores_, eagerly watched +by the people who peeped out of the doors and stood in groups on the +sidewalks. + +"They are going to Tablada," they said. "There is to be a bull-baiting." + +The manager, mounted on a large-boned mare, was in the dress of the +country, short jacket, cloth trousers with yellow gaiters, and leather +leggings. The swordsman had arrayed himself for the event in his usual +bizarre dress of the ancient bull-fighters, before modern fashion had +levelled their apparel to that of other mortals. A crush hat of velvet +with a plaited band was held on by a chin-strap; the collar of the +shirt, innocent of cravat, was fastened with a pair of brilliants and +two larger ones sparkled on the undulating bosom; the jacket and +waistcoat were of wine-colored velvet with black loops and hangings; +lastly there was a red silk belt and tight knee-breeches of dark mixed +weave bound at the knees with garters of black braid. His leggings were +amber-colored, with leather fringes along the side, and boots of the +same color, half hidden in the wide Moorish stirrups, exposed to view +great silver spurs. Over the saddle-horn, on top of the gay Jerez +blanket whose tassels hung on both sides of the horse, lay a gray jacket +with black trimmings and red lining. + +The two horsemen rode at a gallop, carrying on their shoulders javelins +made of fine elastic wood, with balls on the end to guard the tip. Their +passage through the populous ward aroused an ovation. Hurrah! The women +waved their hands. + +"God be with you, Senores! Amuse yourself, Senor Juan!" + +They spurred their horses to escape from the crowd of youngsters that +ran after them, and the narrow lanes with their blue pavements and white +walls rang with the rhythmic beat of the horseshoes. + +On the quiet street of manorial houses with massive grilled gates and +great balconies, where Dona Sol lived, they met other riders before the +door, sitting on their horses, leaning on their lances. They were young +gentlemen, relatives or friends of the lady, who greeted the +bull-fighter with amiable familiarity, happy to have him in the party. +The Marquis of Moraima came out of the house and immediately mounted his +horse. + +"The child will be down immediately. Everybody knows the women--how long +they take to get ready." + +He said this with the sententious gravity that he gave to all his words, +as if he were uttering oracles. He was a tall, big-boned old man, with +long white whiskers in the midst of which his mouth and eyes preserved +an infantile ingenuousness. Courteous and measured in his speech, +genteel in manner, moderate in his smile, the Marquis of Moraima was a +fine gentleman of the type of by-gone days. He was dressed almost always +in riding clothes, hating the city life, bored by the social demands of +his family when detained by them in Seville, and eager to fly to the +country among shepherd-foremen and cattlemen, whom he treated with the +familiarity of comrades. He had almost forgotten how to write, from lack +of practice, but as soon as the talk turned to cattle, to the raising of +bulls and horses, or to agriculture, his eyes shone and he expressed +himself with the skill of one deeply learned. + +The sunlight clouded. The golden glow on the white walls on one side of +the street grew pale. People looked aloft. Along the blue belt between +the two rows of eaves, a dark cloud passed. + +"There is no danger," said the Marquis gravely. "As I came out of the +house I saw a bit of paper which the wind blew in a direction I +understand. It will not rain." + +All were convinced. It could not rain since the Marquis of Moraima so +declared. He was as weather-wise as an old shepherd; there was no fear +of his being mistaken. + +Then he faced Gallardo. + +"This year I am going to provide for thee some magnificent _corridas_. +What bulls! We shall see if thou sendest them to death like good +Christians. Thou knowest that this year I have not been quite satisfied. +The poor things deserved better." + +Dona Sol appeared, holding up her black riding-skirt in one hand and +showing beneath it the tops of her high gray leather boots. She wore a +man's shirt with a red tie, a jacket and waistcoat of violet velvet, a +velvet three-cornered hat gracefully tipped to one side over her curls. +She mounted her horse with ease, in spite of the abundant plumpness of +her well-developed form, and took her javelin from a servant's hands. +She greeted her friends, excusing her tardiness, while her eyes +travelled toward Gallardo. The manager spurred his mare closer to make +the presentation, but Dona Sol, drawing near, rode up to the +bull-fighter. + +Gallardo was disturbed at her presence. What a woman! What should he say +to her? + +He saw that she extended him her hand, a fine hand that was gloriously +fragrant, and in his perturbation he could only press it with his great +fingers that better knew how to throw wild beasts. But the delicate and +rosy palm, instead of cringing under the involuntary and brutal pressure +that would have drawn from another a shriek of pain, tightened its +muscles with vigorous force, freeing itself easily from his clasp. + +"I am most grateful to you for having come, and I am charmed to meet +you." + +And Gallardo, feeling in his confusion the necessity of answering +something, stammered, as if he were greeting a devotee: + +"Thanks. The family well?" + +Dona Sol's discreet laugh was lost in the noise of the horseshoes that +resounded on the stones with the first movement of the cavalcade. The +lady put her horse to a trot and the whole troop followed, forming an +escort around her. Gallardo, abashed, travelled in the rear, not +recovering from his stupefaction, and vaguely guessing that he had said +something foolish. + +They galloped along the outskirts of Seville beside the river; they left +behind them the Tower of Gold; they followed shady avenues of yellow +sand and then a high-road beside which stood inns and lunch-booths. + +As they drew near Tablada they saw, on the green expanse of plain, a +dark mass of people and carriages near the palisade that separated the +pasture from the enclosure containing the cattle. + +The Guadalquivir swept its current through the length of the +pasture-grounds. On the opposite bank rose the hill called San Juan de +Aznalfarache, crowned by a ruined castle. The country houses loomed +white against the silver gray masses of the olive groves. On the +opposite wing of the extended horizon, against a blue background on +which floated fleecy clouds, was Seville, its houses dominated by the +imposing mass of the cathedral and the marvellous Giralda, a tender +rose-color in the afternoon light. + +The riders advanced with much care through the dense crowd. The +curiosity which Dona Sol's eccentricities inspired had attracted nearly +all the ladies of Seville. Her friends bowed to her from their +carriages, thinking her most beautiful in her mannish costume. Her +relatives, the daughters of the Marquis, some unmarried, others +accompanied by their husbands, cautioned her to prudence. "For mercy's +sake, Sol! Don't do crazy things!" + +The bull-baiters entered the enclosure, welcomed as they passed through +the palisade by the applause of the common people who had come to the +festivity. The horses, scenting the enemy, and seeing them in the +distance, rose on their hind legs and began to prance and neigh, held in +by the firm hand of the riders. + +The bulls were grouped in the centre of the enclosure. Some were quietly +feeding, some were lying on the reddish green winter field. Others, more +rebellious, trotted toward the river, and the older bulls, the trained +leaders, ran after them, ringing the bells that hung around their necks, +while the cowboys helped them in this rounding up, slinging well-aimed +stones that struck the horns of the fugitives. The horsemen remained +motionless a long time, as if holding council before the eager gaze of +the public awaiting something extraordinary. + +The first to start was the Marquis, accompanied by one of his friends. +The two riders galloped toward the group of bulls and reined in their +horses when near them, standing in their stirrups, waving their javelins +in the air, and making loud outcries to frighten them. A black bull with +strong legs separated from the band, running toward the end of the +enclosure. + +The Marquis was justly proud of his herd, which was composed of fine +selected animals. They were not oxen destined to the production of meat, +with filthy, loose, and wrinkled hide, nor with broad hoofs, nor +drooping head, nor with big ill-placed horns. These were animals of +nervous vigor, strong and heavy enough to make the earth tremble, +raising a cloud of dust beneath their feet; their hide was fine and +glossy like that of a thoroughbred horse, their eyes flashed, their neck +was thick and proud, and they had short legs, fine delicate tails, +slender horns, sharp and clean, as if polished by hand, and round and +small hoofs, so hard that they cut the grass as though made of steel. + +The two horsemen rode behind the black bull, attacking him on both +sides, barring his way when he tried to make for the river, until the +Marquis, setting spur to his mare, gained distance and rode up to the +bull, with the javelin held before him and, lodging it under his tail, +managed, with the combined strength of his arm and horse, to make the +beast lose his equilibrium, rolling him on the ground, with his belly +up, his horns driven into the earth and his four feet in the air. The +rapidity and ease with which the breeder accomplished this trick +provoked an explosion of enthusiasm from behind the palisade. Hurrah for +the old man! No one understood bulls like the Marquis. He managed them +as if they were his own children, following them from the time of their +birth in the cow-herd until they went to their death in the plazas like +heroes worthy a better fate. + +Other horsemen wished to start at once to win the applause of the crowd +but Moraima held them back, giving preference to his niece. If she were +determined to try her luck it would be better for her to begin now +before the herd grew ugly with continued attacks. Dona Sol spurred on +her horse which was pawing the ground with his fore feet, excited by +the presence of the bulls. The Marquis desired to accompany her in her +race, but she objected. No; she would rather have Gallardo, who was a +bull-fighter. Where was Gallardo? The _matador_, still ashamed of his +stupidity, placed himself at the lady's side without a word. The two set +out on a gallop toward the centre of the drove of bulls. Dona Sol's +horse reared several times, standing almost upright, as if resisting, +but the strong Amazon forced him to advance. Gallardo waved his javelin, +uttering shouts that were more like bellows, just as he did in the ring +when he incited the beasts to show their mettle. + +It took but little urging to make an animal separate from the drove. A +white creature with cinnamon-colored spots, an enormous sloping neck, +and horns of the finest point, started out. He ran toward the end of the +enclosure as if it were his customary haunt, to which he was +irresistibly drawn by instinct, and Dona Sol galloped after him, +followed by the _matador_. + +"Look out, Senora," called Gallardo. "That bull is old and knows the +game! Be careful that he doesn't turn on you!" + +When Dona Sol prepared to achieve the same feat as her uncle, reining +her horse alongside to thrust her javelin under the animal's tail and +upset him, he turned as if he suspected the danger, planting himself in +a threatening attitude before his pursuers. The horse passed in front of +the bull, Dona Sol being unable to rein him in on account of his speed, +and the beast plunged after him, converting the besieger into the +besieged. The lady did not think of flight. Many thousands of people +were watching her from a distance. She feared her friends' laughter and +the commiseration of the men, so she reined in her horse, making him +face the bull. She sat with the javelin under her arm like a _picador_, +and she thrust it into the bull's neck as he came on bellowing, his head +down. The great cervix reddened with a stream of blood, but the beast +continued to advance from mere momentum, not feeling that he enlarged +the wound, till he thrust his horns beneath the horse, shaking him and +lifting his fore feet off the ground. The Amazon was thrown from her +saddle while a shout of horror from hundreds of throats arose in the +distance. The horse, freeing himself from the horns, began to run like +mad, his belly stained with blood, the girths broken, the saddle hanging +over his back. The bull started to follow him, when at that instant +something nearer attracted his attention. It was Dona Sol, who, instead +of lying motionless on the ground, had just arisen, and picking up her +javelin, placed it bravely under her arm to hold off the bull again. It +was mad arrogance, due to her consciousness of the many who watched her. +It was a challenge to death rather than yield to cowardice and ridicule. + +They no longer shouted behind the palisade. The crowd was motionless +with the silence of terror. The whole troop of bull-baiters rode up on a +mad gallop in a cloud of dust, the riders seeming to gain in size at +every bound. Aid would come too late. The bull pawed the ground with his +fore feet and lowered his head to attack the audacious little figure +that stood threatening him with the lance. One little horn-stab would +make an end of it! But at the same instant, a fierce bellowing +distracted the bull's attention and something red passed before his +vision like a flame of fire. It was Gallardo, who had thrown himself +off his mare, abandoning the javelin to grasp the jacket which he +carried on the pommel of his saddle. + +"Aaaa! Come on!" + +The bull came on, running past the red-lined jacket, attracted by an +adversary worthy of him, and turned his hind quarters toward the figure +in the black skirt and violet bodice, that, in the stupefaction of +danger, still stood with the lance under her arm. + +"Have no fear, Dona Sol; he is mine now!" cried the bull-fighter, still +pale with emotion but smiling, sure of his skill. Without other defence +than the jacket, he fought the beast, drawing him away from the lady and +escaping from its furious attacks with graceful movements. + +The crowd, forgetting the recent fright, commenced to applaud, +enraptured. What joy! To go to a simple baiting and to find themselves +at an almost formal _corrida_, seeing Gallardo work gratis. + +The bull-fighter, fired by the violence with which the brute attacked +him, forgot Dona Sol and every one else, intent only on evading his +attacks. The bull became furious, seeing that the man slipped unharmed +from between his horns, and fell upon him again, never encountering +anything but the brilliant red lining of the jacket. + +At last he wearied and stood still, his mouth frothing, his head low, +his legs trembling; then Gallardo took advantage of the brute's +stupefaction and taking off his hat touched his head with it. An immense +shout arose behind the palisade, greeting this heroic exploit. Then +yells and ringing of bells sounded at Gallardo's back, cattlemen with +lead-bulls appeared and, surrounding the animal, drove it slowly toward +the thick of the herd. + +Gallardo went in search of his mare, which stood motionless, accustomed +to being near the bulls. He picked up his javelin, mounted, and rode +back toward the palisade at a gentle gallop, prolonging the noisy +applause of the crowd by this slow riding. The horsemen who had taken +Dona Sol away greeted him with wild enthusiasm. The manager winked one +eye at him, saying mysteriously, "_Gacho_, thou hast not been slow. Very +good, but very good! Now I tell thee that thou'lt get her." + +Dona Sol was in the landau of the Marquis' daughters, outside the +palisade. Her cousins surrounded her, anxious, feeling her over, almost +expecting to find some bone broken by her fall. They gave her glasses of +_manzanilla_ to help her recover from her fright but she smiled with an +air of superiority, passively receiving these feminine demonstrations. + +As she saw Gallardo breaking through the lines of people on his horse, +amidst waving hats and extended hands, the lady smiled yet more +brightly. + +"Come here, Cid Campeador. Give me your hand!" + +And again their hands clasped, with a pressure that lasted long. + +In the evening, in the house of the _matador_, this event, which was +talked about throughout the whole city, was commented upon. Senora +Angustias displayed satisfaction, just as after a _corrida_. Her son +saving one of those _senoras_ on whom she gazed with admiration, +habituated to reverence by long years of servitude! Carmen remained +silent, scarcely knowing what to think. + +Several days passed without Gallardo's receiving news from Dona Sol. +The manager was out of the city hunting with some friends of the +Forty-five. One afternoon, near nightfall, Don Jose sought him in a +_cafe_ on Sierpes Street where the connoisseurs met. He had returned +from the hunt two hours before and had had to go immediately to Dona +Sol's house in response to a certain note that awaited him at his +domicile. + +"But, man alive, thou art worse than a wolf!" said the manager, drawing +his _matador_ out of the _cafe_. "This lady expected thee to go to her +house. She has spent most of her afternoons at home, thinking thou +wouldst come any moment. This shouldn't be. After my having introduced +thee, and after all that happened, thou owest her a call; a question of +asking for her health." + +The _matador_ stopped in his walk and scratched his head beneath his +hat. + +"Well, but," he murmured with indecision, "well, but I am embarrassed. +Yes, that is it; yes, sir, embarrassed. You know that I have my affairs +with women and that I know how to say a half dozen words to any common +_gachi_; but to this one, no. This is a lady, and when I see her I +realize that I am rough and coarse, and I keep my mouth shut, for I +can't speak without putting my foot in it. No, Don Jose, I am not going. +I ought not to go." + +But the manager, sure of convincing him, conducted him toward Dona Sol's +house, talking of his recent interview with the lady. She showed herself +somewhat offended by Gallardo's forgetfulness. The best in Seville had +gone to see her since her accident at Tablada, but not he. + +"Thou knowest that a bull-fighter should stand well with the people who +are worth while. One must have education and show that he is not a +herder raised in the branding-pen. A lady of so much importance who +honors thee and expects thee! Come! I will go with thee." + +"Ah! If you accompany me!" And Gallardo drew a deep breath on hearing +this, as if he were freed from the weight of a great danger. + +They entered Dona Sol's house. The courtyard was in Moorish style, its +many colored arcades of beautiful designs recalling the horseshoe arches +of the Alhambra. The fountain flowing into a basin where gold-fish were +swimming sang with sweet monotony in the afternoon stillness. In the +four surrounding passages with carved ceilings separated from the +courtyard by the marble columns of the arcades, the bull-fighter saw +ancient mosaics, time-darkened paintings, images of saints with livid +countenances, and wood-work worm-eaten as though it had been fusilladed +with small shot. + +A servant conducted them up the broad marble stairway, and there again +the bull-fighter was surprised to see paintings on wood of rude figures +with a gilded background; voluptuous virgins that seemed to be hewn out +with an axe, with delicate colors and faded gold, looted from ancient +altars; tapestries of the soft tone of dry leaves, bordered with flowers +and fruits, some representing scenes from Calvary, others full of hairy +satyrs with hoofs and horns with whom nude girls seemed to play as men +play with bulls in the ring. + +"How vast is ignorance," he said to his manager. "And I had thought that +all this was only good for convents. How much these people seem to value +it." + +Gallardo received new surprises. He was proud of his own furniture +brought from Madrid, all of gaudy silk and complicated design, heavy and +rich, seeming to proclaim, as it were by shouts, the money it had cost, +but here he was dazzled at the sight of delicate and fragile chairs, +white or green, tables and cupboards of simple lines, walls of a single +tint with no other ornament than small paintings separated by great +distances, and hanging by heavy cords, the whole giving a tone of +subdued and quiet elegance that seemed the handiwork of artists. He was +ashamed of his own stupefaction and of what he had admired in his house +as the supreme of luxury. "How vast is ignorance!" And as he seated +himself he did so with care, fearing lest the chair would crumble +beneath his weight. + +Dona Sol's presence banished these thoughts. He saw her, as he had never +before seen her, without _mantilla_ or hat, her glossy hair hanging, and +seeming to justify her romantic name. Her arms, of superlative +whiteness, escaped from the silken funnels of a Japanese tunic crossed +over the breast, which left uncovered a space of adorable neck, slightly +amber-colored, with the lines that suggest the neck of the mother Venus. +Stones of all colors set in rings of strange design covered her fingers +and scintillated with magic splendor as she moved her hands. On her +youthful wrists glistened bracelets of gold, some of Oriental filigree +with mysterious inscriptions, others massive, from which hung amulets +and little foreign figures, mementoes of distant travels. She had +crossed one leg over the other with manlike freedom, and on the point of +one of her feet dangled a red slipper with a high, gilded heel, tiny as +a toy, and covered with heavy embroidery. + +Gallardo's ears buzzed, his vision was clouded, he only managed to +distinguish a pair of blue eyes fixed on him with an expression half +caressing, half ironic. To hide his emotion, he smiled, showing his +teeth,--the expressionless smile of a child who wishes to be amiable. + +"No, Senora--many thanks. That amounted to nothing." + +Thus he received Dona Sol's expressions of gratitude for his heroic feat +of the other afternoon. Little by little Gallardo began to acquire a +certain composure. The lady and the manager talked of bulls, and this +gave the swordsman a sudden confidence. She had seen him kill several +times, and she remembered exactly the principal incidents. Gallardo felt +pride that this woman had gazed upon him at such moments and had even +kept fresh the memory of his deeds. She opened a lacquer box, decorated +with weird flowers, and offered the men cigarettes with golden +mouthpieces which exhaled a strange and pungent perfume. + +"They contain opium; they are very agreeable." + +And she lighted one, following the smoke spirals with her greenish eyes +which acquired a tremor of liquid gold as they refracted the light. The +bull-fighter, accustomed to the strong Havana tobacco, smoked the +cigarette with curiosity. Pure straw; a mere treat for ladies. But the +strange perfume of the smoke slowly overcame his timidity. + +Dona Sol, looking at him fixedly, asked questions about his life. She +wished to get a glimpse behind the scenes of glory, of the subterranean +ways of celebrity, of the miserable wandering life of the bull-fighter +before he gained public acclamation; and Gallardo, with sudden +confidence, talked and talked, telling of his youthful days, dwelling +with proud delectation on the lowliness of his origin, although omitting +all that he considered questionable in his eventful adolescence. + +"Very interesting, very original!" said the handsome lady, and +withdrawing her eyes from the bull-fighter they became lost in wandering +contemplation, as if fixed on something invisible. + +"The greatest man in the world!" exclaimed Don Jose in frank enthusiasm. +"Believe me, Sol; there are no two youths like this. And the way he +recuperates from horn-stabs--!" + +Happy in Gallardo's fortitude, as if he were his progenitor, he +enumerated the wounds he had received, describing them as if they could +be seen through his clothing. The lady's eyes followed him in this +anatomical journey with sincere admiration. A true hero; timid, shy, and +simple, like all strong men. The manager spoke of taking his leave. It +was after seven and he was expected at home. But Dona Sol rose to her +feet with smiling determination as if to oppose his going. He must +remain; they must dine with her; a friendly invitation. That night she +expected no one else. The Marquis and his family had gone to the +country. + +"I am alone--not another word. I command. You will stay and take +pot-luck with me." + +And as if her orders admitted of no question, she left the room. + +The manager protested. No, he could not remain; he had come from outside +the city that very afternoon, and his family had scarcely seen him. +Besides, he had invited two friends. As for his _matador_, it seemed to +him natural and proper that he should stay. Really, the invitation was +meant for him. + +"But stay a while at least!" said the swordsman, distressed. "Damn it! +Don't leave me alone. I shall not know what to do; I shall not know what +to say." + +A quarter of an hour afterward Dona Sol appeared again, dressed in one +of her Paris gowns, a Paquin model, the desperation and wonder of +relatives and friends. + +Don Jose insisted again. He must go, but his _matador_ should stay. He +would take care to let them know at home so that they would not wait for +him. Again Gallardo made a gesture of agony, but he grew calm at a look +from the manager. + +"Don't worry," he whispered, going toward the door, "dost thou think I +am a child? I will say thou art dining with some connoisseurs from +Madrid." + +What torment Gallardo suffered during the first moments of the dinner! +He was intimidated by the grave and lordly luxury of the dining-room in +which he and the lady seemed to be lost, seated face to face at the +centre of a great table, under enormous silver candelabras with electric +lights and rose-colored shades. The imposing servants inspired awe; they +were ceremonious and impassive as if habituated to the most +extraordinary actions; as if nothing this lady did could surprise them. +He was ashamed of his dress and manners, feeling the strong contrast +between the environment and his appearance. But this first impression of +fear and shyness vanished little by little. Dona Sol laughed at his +moderation, at the fear with which he touched the plates and cups. +Gallardo ended by admiring her. What an appetite the blonde woman had! +Accustomed to the squeamishness and abstinence of the _senoritas_ he +had known, who thought it bad taste to eat much, he marvelled at Dona +Sol's voracity and at the naturalness with which she disposed of the +viands. Mouthfuls disappeared between her rosy lips without leaving the +slightest trace of their passage; her jaws worked without in the least +diminishing the beautiful serenity of her countenance; she carried the +glass to her mouth without the slightest drop of liquor spilling a +colored pearl upon her clothing. Surely thus must goddesses eat! + +Gallardo, fired by her example, ate, and above all, drank much, seeking +in the varied and heavy wines a remedy for that stupidity that made him +silent as if abashed in the lady's presence, and unable to do more than +to smile and repeat, "Many thanks." + +The conversation grew animated; the _matador_ became loquacious and +talked of funny incidents in the tauromachic life, ending by telling +about Nacional's original propaganda, and the feats of his _picador_ +Potaje, a wild fellow who swallowed hard-boiled eggs whole; how he was +minus half an ear on account of one of his _compadres_ having bitten it +off, and how, on being carried injured into the infirmaries of the ring, +he would fall on the bed with such a weight of armor and muscle that he +would cut through the mattresses with his enormous spurs, and then had +to be unriveted. + +"Very original! Very interesting!" + +Dona Sol listened, smiling at the details of the existence of these +rough men, ever close to death, whom she had until then admired only at +a distance. + +The champagne completed the work of upsetting Gallardo, and when he +rose from the table he gave his arm to the lady, surprised at his own +audacity. Did not they do so in the great world? He was not so ignorant +as he seemed at first sight! + +In the drawing-room where coffee was served he saw a guitar. Dona Sol +offered it to him, asking him to play. + +"But I don't know how! I am the most unskilled fellow in the world, +aside from killing bulls!" + +He regretted that the _puntillero_ of his _cuadrilla_ was not there, a +boy who set the women crazy with his "hands of gold" for plucking the +strings of a guitar. + +Gallardo was leaning back on a sofa smoking the magnificent Havana a +servant had offered him. Dona Sol was smoking one of the cigarettes +whose perfume created such a vague drowsiness. The heaviness of +digestion weighed upon the bull-fighter, closing his mouth and +permitting him no other sign of life than a fixed smile of stupidity. +The lady, wearied, doubtless, at the silence in which her words were +lost, seated herself before a grand piano, and striking the keys with +virile force, drew forth the gay rhythm of _Malaguenas_ followed by +_Sevillanas_, and then all the old Andalusian songs, melancholy and of +Oriental dreaminess, which Dona Sol had stored in her memory as an +enthusiastic admirer of _la tierra_. + +Gallardo interrupted the music with his exclamations, just as he did +when seated near the stage of a music-hall. + +"Good for those little hands of gold! Let's hear another." + +"Do you enjoy music?" asked the lady. + +"Oh, very much!" Gallardo had never been asked this question until now, +but undoubtedly he enjoyed it. + +Dona Sol passed slowly from the lively rhythm of the popular songs to +other music more slow, more solemn, which the _matador_, in his +philharmonic wisdom, recognized as "church music." He no longer shouted +exclamations of enthusiasm. He was overcome by a delicious quiet, trying +to keep awake by contemplating the handsome lady whose back was turned +toward him. What a figure--Mother of God! His Moorish eyes fastened +themselves on the nape of her neck, round and white, crowned by an +aureole of wild, rebellious, golden hair. An absurd idea danced through +his blunted mind, keeping him awake with the tickling of temptation. + +"What would that _gachi_ do if I should rise and creep up behind her +step by step and give her a kiss on that rich little neck of hers?" + +But his design did not venture beyond a tempting thought. That woman +inspired an irresistible respect. Moreover, he remembered his manager's +talk of the arrogance with which she could frighten away troublesome +bores; of that little game learned in foreign lands which taught her how +to manage a strong man as if he were a rag. He continued gazing at the +white neck, like a moon surrounded by a nimbus of gold seen through the +clouds which drowsiness hung before his eyes. He was going to fall +asleep! He feared that suddenly a loud snore would interrupt the music, +a music incomprehensible to him, and which, consequently, must be +magnificent. He pinched his legs to keep awake; stretched out his arms; +covered his mouth with one hand to stifle his yawns. + +A long time passed. Gallardo was not sure whether he had slept or not. +Suddenly Dona Sol's voice woke him from this painful somnolence. She had +laid down her cigarette with its blue spirals of smoke, and in a low +voice that accentuated the words, giving them impassioned trembling, she +sang, accompanying herself by the melody of the piano. + +The bull-fighter cocked his ears to try to understand something. Not a +word. They were foreign songs. "Damn it! Why not a _tango_ or a _solea_? +And yet a Christian is expected to keep awake." + +Dona Sol ran her fingers over the keys, casting her eyes upward, +throwing her head back, her firm breast trembling with musical sighs. It +was Elsa's prayer, the lament of the blonde virgin thinking of the +strong man, the brave warrior, invincible before men, and sweet and +timid with women. She dreamed awake in her song, throwing into her words +tremors of passion, the moisture rising to her eyes. The simple strong +man! The warrior! Maybe he was behind her! Why not? + +He did not have the legendary aspect of the other; he was rough and +unpolished, but she could yet see, with the clarity of a vivid +recollection, the grace with which days before he had rushed to her +rescue; the smiling confidence with which he had fought a bellowing, +infuriated beast, just as the Wagnerian heroes fought frightful dragons. +Yes; he was _her_ warrior. And shaken from her heels to the roots of her +hair by a voluptuous fear, giving herself up for conquered in advance, +she thought she could divine the sweet danger that was approaching +behind her. She saw the hero, the knight, rise slowly from the sofa, his +Moorish eyes fixed upon her; she heard his cautious steps; she felt his +hands on her shoulders; then a kiss of fire on her neck, a brand of +passion that marked her his slave for all time--But suddenly the romance +ended, and nothing had happened; she had experienced no other impression +than her own thrills of timid desire. + +Disappointed, she turned around on the piano stool; the music ceased. +The warrior was there, buried in the sofa, with a match in his hand, +trying to light his cigar for the fourth time, and opening his eyes +immeasurably wide to drive the torpor from his senses. + +Seeing her eyes fastened upon him, Gallardo rose to his feet. Ah, the +supreme moment was coming! The hero strode toward her, to press her with +manly passion, to conquer her, to make her his. + +"Good-night, Dona Sol. I must go, it is late. You will want to rest." + +Impelled by surprise and dismay, she extended her hand, not knowing what +she did. Strong and simple like a hero! + +All the feminine conventionalisms went rushing in confusion through her +mind, the traditional expressions a woman never forgets, not even in the +moments of her greatest abandon. Her desire was impossible. The first +time he entered her house? Without the slightest pretence of resistance? +Could she go to him? But when the swordsman clasped her hand she looked +into his eyes, eyes that could only gaze with impassioned steadiness, +that in their mute tenacity expressed his timid hopes, his silent +desires. + +"Don't go--come; come!" + +And she said no more. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE SPANISH WILD BEAST + + +A great satisfaction was added to the numerous conceits which served to +flatter Gallardo's vanity. When he talked with the Marquis of Moraima, +he contemplated him now with an almost filial affection. That _senor_ +dressed like a country gentleman, a rude centaur in chaps, with a strong +lance, was an illustrious personage who could cover his breast with +official sashes and wear in the palace of kings a coat covered with +embroidery, with a golden key sewed to one lapel. His most remote +ancestors had come to Seville with the monarch that expelled the Moors, +receiving as a reward for their deeds immense territories taken from the +enemy, of which the great plains where the Marquis' bulls now pastured +were the remains. His nearest forefathers had been friends and +councillors of monarchs, spending a large part of their patrimony in the +pageantry of court life. And this great lord, kind and frank, who +maintained in the simplicity of his country life the distinction of his +illustrious ancestry, was almost like a near relative of Gallardo. The +cobbler's son was as haughty as if he had become a member and formed a +part of a noble family. The Marquis of Moraima was his uncle, although +he could not confess it publicly and, though the relationship was not +legitimate, he consoled himself thinking of the dominion he exercised +over a woman of that family, thanks to a love that seemed to laugh at +all law and class prejudice. His cousins also, and relatives in greater +or less degree of proximity, were all those young gentlemen who used to +receive him with that somewhat disdainful familiarity which connoisseurs +of rank bestow upon bull-fighters; these now began to treat him as +equals. Accustomed to hear Dona Sol speak of them with the familiarity +of kinship, Gallardo thought it disadvantageous to him not to treat them +with equal freedom. + +His life and habits had changed. He seldom entered the _cafes_ on +Sierpes Street where his old admirers gathered. They were good fellows, +simple and earnest, but of little importance; small merchants, workmen +who had risen to be employers; modest employees; vagabonds of no +profession who lived miraculously by unknown expedients, with no other +visible occupation than talking of bulls. + +Gallardo passed the windows of the _cafes_ and bowed to these devotees, +who responded with eager signs for him to come in. "I'll return soon." +But he did not. He entered an aristocratic club on the same street, with +servants in knee breeches, with imposing Gothic decorations and silver +service on its tables. The son of Senora Angustias felt a glow of vanity +whenever he passed among the servants standing so erect, with a military +air, in their black coats, and a lackey, imposing as a magistrate, with +a silver chain around his neck, offered to take his hat and stick. It +pleased him to mix with so many distinguished people. The young men, +sunk down in high chairs like those seen in romantic dramas, talked of +horses and women, and kept account of all the duels that took place in +Spain, for they were men of fastidious honor and unquestioned valor. In +an inside room they shot at targets; in another they gambled from the +early evening hours until after sunrise. They tolerated Gallardo as an +"original" of the club, because he was a reputable bull-fighter, who +dressed well, spent money, and had good connections. + +"He is very celebrated," said the members, with great tact, realizing +that he knew as much as they did. + +The character of Don Jose, who was charming and well-born, served the +bull-fighter as a guarantee in this new existence. Moreover, Gallardo, +with his cleverness as an old-time street gamin, knew how to make +himself popular with this assemblage of gay youths in which he met +acquaintances by the dozens. + +He gambled much. It was the best means of coming into contact with his +"new family" and strengthening the relationship. He gambled and lost +with the bad luck of a man fortunate in other undertakings. He spent his +nights in the "hall of crime," as the gambling room was called, and he +seldom managed to gain. His ill-luck was a cause of pride to the club. + +"Last night Gallardo took a good laying out," said the members. "He lost +at least eleven thousand _pesetas_." + +And this prestige as a strong "bank," as well as the serenity with which +he gave up his money, made his new friends respect him, finding in him a +firm upholder of society's game. The new passion rapidly took possession +of him. The excitement of the game dominated him even to the point of +sometimes making him forget the great lady who was to him the most +interesting object in the world. To gamble with the best in Seville! To +be treated as an equal by the young gentlemen, with the fraternal +feeling that the loaning of money and common emotions creates! + +Suddenly one night a great cluster of electric globes that stood on the +green table and illuminated the room went out. There was darkness and +disorder, but Gallardo's imperious voice rose above the confusion. + +"Silence, gentlemen! Nothing has happened. On with the game! Let them +bring candles!" + +And the game went on, his companions admiring him for his energetic +oratory even more than for the bulls he killed. The manager's friends +asked him about Gallardo's losses. He would be ruined; what he earned by +the bulls was being eaten up by gaming. But Don Jose smiled +disdainfully, doubling the glory of his _matador_. + +"We have more bull-fights for this year than any one else. We're going +to get tired of killing bulls and earning money. Let the boy amuse +himself. That's what he works for, and that's why he is what he is--the +greatest man in the world!" + +Don Jose considered that the people's admiration for the serenity with +which he lost added glory to his idol. A _matador_ could not be like +other men who keep chasing after a cent. He did not earn his money for +nothing. Besides, it pleased him as a personal triumph, as something +that was an accomplishment of his own, to see him established in a +social set which not everybody could join. + +"He is the man of the day," he said with an aggressive air to those who +criticised Gallardo's new habits. "He doesn't go with nobodies, nor does +he sit around taverns like other bull-fighters. And what does that +prove? He is the bull-fighter of the aristocracy, because he wants to +be, and can be. The others are jealous." + +In his new existence, Gallardo not only frequented the club, but some +afternoons he mingled with the Society of the Forty-five. It was a kind +of senate of tauromachy. Bull-fighters did not find easy access to its +_salons_, thus leaving the respectable nobility of the connoisseurs free +to voice their opinions. + +During the spring and summer the Forty-five gathered in the vestibule +and on the sidewalk, seated in willow arm-chairs, to await the telegrams +from the bull-fights. They had little faith in the opinions of the +press; moreover they must get the news before it came out in the papers. +Telegrams from all parts of the Peninsula where bull-fights were held +came at nightfall, and the members, after listening with religious +gravity to their reading, argued and built suppositions upon these +telegraphic brevities. It was a function that filled them with pride, +elevating them above common mortals, this of remaining quietly seated at +the door of the Society, enjoying the cool air and hearing in a certain +manner, without prejudiced exaggerations, what had occurred that +afternoon in the bull plaza of Bilbao, or of Coruna or Barcelona, or +Valencia, of the ears one _matador_ had received or the hisses that had +greeted another, while their fellow-citizens remained in the saddest +depths of ignorance and walked the streets obliged to wait till night +for the coming out of the newspapers. When there was an accident, and a +telegram arrived announcing the terrible goring of a native +bull-fighter, emotion and patriotic sentiment softened the respectable +senators to the point of communicating the important secret to some +passing friend. The news instantly circulated through the _cafes_ on +Sierpes Street, and no one doubted it at all. It was a telegram received +at the Forty-five. + +Gallardo's manager, with his aggressive and noisy enthusiasm, disturbed +the social gravity; but they tolerated him on account of his being an +old friend and they ended by laughing at his ways. It was impossible for +such critical persons to discuss the merits of the bull-fighters +tranquilly with Don Jose. Often, on speaking of Gallardo as "a brave +boy, but with little art," they looked timorously toward the door. + +"Pepe is coming," they said, and the conversation was suddenly broken +off. + +Don Jose entered waving the blue paper of a telegram above his head. + +"Have you got news from Santander? Here it is: Gallardo, two strokes, +two bulls, and with the second, the ear. Now, didn't I tell you? The +greatest man in the world!" + +The telegram for the Forty-five was often different, but the manager +scarcely conceded it a scornful glance, bursting out in noisy protest. + +"Lies! All jealousy! My message is the one that's worth something. That +one shows pique because my boy gets all the favors." + +And the members in the end laughed at Don Jose, touching their foreheads +with a finger to indicate his madness, joking about "the greatest man in +the world" and his funny manager. + +Little by little, as an unheard of privilege, he managed to introduce +Gallardo into the Society. The bull-fighter came under the pretext of +looking for his manager and finally seated himself among the gentlemen, +many of whom were not his friends and had chosen _their matador_ among +the rival swordsmen. + +The decorations of this club-house had distinction, as Don Jose said; +high wainscotings of Moorish tiles, and on the immaculately white walls, +gay posters recalling past bull-fights; mounted heads of bulls famous +for the number of horses they had killed or for having wounded some +celebrated _matador_; glittering capes and swords presented by certain +bull-fighters on "cutting the queue" and retiring from the profession. + +Servants in frock coats waited on gentlemen in country dress or in +negligee during the hot summer afternoons. In Holy Week and during other +great feasts of Seville, when illustrious connoisseurs from all over +Spain called to greet the Forty-five, the servants dressed in knee +breeches and wore white wigs with red and yellow livery. In this guise, +like lackeys of a royal house, they served trays of _manzanilla_ to the +wealthy gentlemen, some of whom had even taken off their cravats. + +In the afternoons, when the dean of the Club, the illustrious Marquis of +Moraima, presented himself, the members formed in a circle in deep +arm-chairs and the famous cattle-breeder occupied a seat higher than the +others like a throne, from which he presided over the conversation. They +always began by talking about the weather. They were mostly breeders and +rich farmers who lived on the products of the earth when favored by the +variable heavens. The Marquis expounded the observations drawn from the +knowledge acquired on interminable horseback rides over the Andalusian +plain. Upon this immense desert, with a boundless horizon like a sea of +land, the bulls resembled drowsy sharks moving slowly among the waves +of herbage. The drought, that cruel calamity of the Andalusian plains, +led to discussions lasting whole afternoons, and when, after long weeks +of expectation, the lowering sky let fall a few drops, big and hot, the +great country gentlemen smiled joyfully, rubbing their hands, and the +Marquis said impressively, looking at the broad circles that wet the +pavement: + +"The glory of God! Every drop of these is a five dollar gold piece!" + +When they were not busying themselves talking about the weather, cattle +became the subject of their conversation, and especially bulls, as +though they were united to them by a blood relationship. The breeders +listened with respect to the Marquis' opinions, recognizing the prestige +of his superior fortune. The mere amateurs, who never went out of the +city, admired his skill as a raiser of noble animals. What that man +knew! He showed himself convinced of the greatness of his occupation +when he talked of the care the bulls needed. Out of every ten calves +eight or nine were only good for meat, after being tested for their +temper. Only one or two which proved themselves ferocious and aggressive +before the point of the spear came to be considered animals suitable for +combat, living apart, with all manner of care--and such care! + +"A herd of fierce bulls," said the Marquis, "should not be treated as a +business. It is a luxury. They give, for a fighting bull, four or five +times more than for an ox for the butcher-shop--but what they cost!" + +They must be cared for at all hours, heed must be taken in regard to +their pasture and water, they must be moved from one place to another +with changes of temperature. Each bull costs more to maintain than a +family. And when he is ready he must be watched till the last minute so +that he may not disgrace himself in the ring but do honor to the emblem +of the breeder which he wears on his neck. + +The Marquis had been compelled to quarrel with the managers and +authorities of certain plazas, and had refused to furnish his animals +because the band of music was placed over the bull-pens. The noise of +the instruments upset the animals, taking away their courage and +serenity when they entered the arena. + +"They are just like ourselves," he said with tenderness. "They lack only +speech. What do I say? Like us? There are some that are better than some +people." + +And he told about Lobito, an old bull, a leader, which he declared he +would not sell even if they would give him the whole of Seville with its +Giralda. He no sooner galloped in sight of the drove in which this jewel +lived on the vast pastures, than a shout was enough to call his +attention. "Lobito!" And Lobito, abandoning his companions, came to meet +the Marquis, moistening the horseman's boots with his gentle muzzle; yet +he was an animal of immense power and the rest of the herd lived in fear +of him. + +The breeder dismounted, and taking a piece of chocolate out of his +saddle bags, he gave it to Lobito, who gratefully bowed his head armed +with its gigantic horns. The Marquis advanced with an arm resting over +the leader's neck, walking quietly through the drove of bulls, which +grew restless and ferocious at the presence of the man. There was no +danger. Lobito marched like a dog, covering the master with his body, +looking in all directions, compelling respect among his companions with +his flashing eyes. If one more audacious drew near to nose the Marquis +he encountered the threatening horns of the leader. If several united +with dull stupidity to bar his passage, Lobito thrust his armed head +among them and opened the way. + +An expression of enthusiasm and tenderness moved the Marquis' beardless +lips and his white side-whiskers as he recalled the great deeds of some +of the animals produced in his pastures. + +"The bull! The noblest animal in the world! If men were more like them +the world would be better off. There was Coronel. Do you remember that +treasure?" + +And he showed an immense photograph with a handsome mounting, that +represented himself in mountaineer dress, much younger and surrounded by +several girls dressed in white, all seated in the centre of a meadow on +a dark mass at one end of which was a pair of horns. This mass was +Coronel. Immense and fierce toward his companions in the herd, he showed +affectionate submission to the master and his family. He was like a +mastiff, fierce to strangers, but letting the children pull him about by +the tail and ears and put up with all their deviltry with growls of +kindness. The Marquis had with him his young daughters, and the animal +smelt of the little girls' white skirts as they timidly clung to their +father's legs, until, with the sudden audacity of childhood, they ended +by rubbing his nose. "Down, Coronel!" Coronel went down on his knees and +the family seated themselves on his side, which moved up and down like a +bellows with the _ru-ru_ of his powerful respiration. + +One day, after much hesitation, the Marquis sold him to the plaza of +Pamplona and attended the bull-fight. Moraima was moved by the +recollection of this event; his eyes filled with emotion. He had never +in all his life seen a bull like that. He came courageously into the +arena and stood planted in the middle of it, surprised at the light +after the darkness of the bull-pen, and at the clamor of thousands of +persons after the silence of the stables. But the moment a _picador_ +pricked him he seemed to fill the whole plaza with his tremendous +fierceness. + +Before him, men, horses, nothing could stand. In one minute he threw the +horses and tossed the _picadores_ into the air. The _peones_ ran. The +plaza was like a regular branding-pen. The public shouted for more +horses, and Coronel, in the meantime, stood waiting for some one to +stand up and face him. Nothing like that for nobility and power will +ever be seen again. + +As soon as they incited him to come on, he rushed up with a courage and +speed that set the public wild. When they gave the sign to kill, with +the fourteen stabs he had in his body, and the complete set of +_banderillas_, he was as brave and valiant as though he had never gone +out of the pasture. Then-- + +The breeder, when he arrived at this point, always stopped, to +strengthen his voice, which grew tremulous. + +Then--the Marquis of Moraima, who had been in a box, found himself, he +knew not how, behind the barrier among attendants who were running about +with the excitement of the eventful contest, and near to the _matador_, +who was making ready his _muleta_ with a certain deliberation, as if +wishing to put off the moment for standing face to face with an animal +of such power. "Coronel!" shouted the Marquis, leaning his body half +over the barrier and beating the boards with his hands. + +The animal stood still but raised his head at these cries--distant calls +from a country he would never see again. "Coronel!" Turning his head the +bull saw a man calling to him from the wall and he started in a direct +line to attack him. But in the midst of his advance he slackened his +pace and slowly approached until he touched with his horns the arms held +out to him. His throat was varnished red with little streams of blood +which escaped from the barbs buried in his neck and from the wounds in +his hide, in which the blue muscle could be seen. "Coronel! My son!" And +the bull, as if he understood these outbursts of tenderness, raised his +dripping muzzle and dampened the Marquis' white beard. "Why hast thou +brought me here?" those wild and blood-shot eyes seemed to say. And the +Marquis, unheeding what he did, pressed kisses upon the animal's nose +that was wet with his furious bellowings. + +"Don't let him be killed!" shouted a good soul in the galleries; and as +if these words reflected the mind of the public, an explosion of voices +filled the plaza, while thousands of handkerchiefs fluttered above the +tiers of seats like flocks of doves. "Don't let him be killed!" For a +moment the multitude, moved by a vague tenderness, despised its own +diversion, hated the bull-fighter with his glittering dress and his +useless heroism, admired the valor of the animal, and felt inferior to +it, recognizing that among so many thousands of reasoning beings the +greater nobility and sensibility were represented by the poor brute. + +"I took him back," said the Marquis, with emotion. "I returned the +management their two thousand _pesetas_. I would have given my whole +hacienda. After he had been pastured in the meadow a month he didn't +even have the scars on his neck. It was my intention to let that brave +beast die of old age, but the good do not prosper in this world. A +tricky bull that was not fit to look him in the face treacherously gored +him to death." + +The Marquis and his fellow cattle-breeders passed suddenly from this +tenderness toward the animals, to the pride they felt in their ferocity. +One should see the scorn with which they talked of the enemies of +bull-fights, of those who protested against this art in the name of +prevention of cruelty to animals. Foreigners' nonsense! Errors of +ignoramuses, who only distinguish animals by their horns and think a +slaughter-house ox the same as a fighting-bull! The Spanish bull was a +wild-beast; the most heroic wild beast in the world. And they recounted +the numerous combats between bulls and terrible felines, always followed +by the noisy triumph of the national wild beast. + +The Marquis laughed as he recollected another of his animals. A combat +was arranged in a plaza between a bull, and a lion, and a tiger +belonging to a certain famous tamer, and the breeder sent Barrabas, a +wicked animal he had always kept by himself in the pasture because he +was ever goring his companions, and had killed many cattle. + +"I saw that, also," said Moraima. "A great iron cage in the centre of +the ring, and in it was Barrabas. First they let the lion loose at him +and the damned beast, taking advantage of the bull's lack of cunning, +jumped onto his hind quarters and began to tear him with his claws and +teeth. Barrabas jumped with fury to unfasten him and get him in front of +his horns where his defences lay. At last, in one of his turns, he +managed to toss the lion in front of him and gored him, and then, +gentlemen, just like a ball, he smelled him from tip to tip a long +while, shook him about like a figure stuffed with straw, till finally, +as if he despised him, he tossed him to one side and there lay what they +call the 'king of beasts' rolled up into a heap, mewing like a cat that +has had a beating. Then they let the tiger at him and the affair was +shorter yet. He had scarcely stuck his nose in before Barrabas hooked +him and tossed him up, and after getting a good shaking, he went into +the corner like the other, curling himself up and playing baby." + +These recollections always provoked great laughter at the Forty-five. +The Spanish bull! Little wild beasts to face him! And in their joyful +exclamations there was an expression of national pride, as if the +arrogant courage of the Spanish wild beast signified equally the +superiority of the land and race over the rest of the world. + +At the time Gallardo began to frequent the Society, a new subject of +conversation interrupted the endless discussions about bulls and the +country's crops. + +At the Forty-five, as well as all over Seville, they talked about +"Plumitas," a bandit celebrated for his audacity, who each day acquired +fresh fame by the fruitless efforts of his pursuers. The newspapers +related his deeds as if he were a national personage; the Government was +interpellated in the Cortes and promised an immediate capture which +never took place; the civil guard concentrated and a regular army was +mobilized for pursuing him while Plumitas, always alone, with no other +auxiliary than his carbine and his restless steed, slipped in and out +among them like a phantom. When their numbers were not great he faced +them and dropped some one of them lifeless, and he was revered and +assisted by the poor country people, miserable slaves on enormous +estates, who saw in the bandit an avenger of the hungry, a quick and +cruel justice, like that exercised by the ancient mail-clad knight +errant. Plumitas demanded money from the rich and, with the air of an +actor who sees himself watched by an immense audience, from time to time +he succored some poor old woman or a laborer burdened with a family. +These acts of generosity were enlarged upon by the gossips of the rural +multitude, who at all hours had the name of Plumitas on their lips but +who were blind and dumb when questioned by the military or the police. + +He passed from one province to another with the ease of one who knew the +country well, and the land-owners of Seville and Cordova contributed +equally to his sustenance. Whole weeks would pass without talk of the +bandit, when he would suddenly present himself on a plantation, or make +his entrance into a town, scornful of danger. + +At the Forty-five they had direct news of him, the same as if he were a +killer of bulls. + +"Plumitas was at my place yesterday," said a rich farmer. "The overseer +gave him thirty _duros_ and he went away after breakfast." + +They patiently tolerated this contribution and did not communicate the +news to any but their friends. A denunciation meant declarations and all +kinds of turmoil. Of what use? The civil guard pursued the bandit +fruitlessly and when he became angry with the informers their property +was at the mercy of his vengeance, utterly unprotected. + +The Marquis talked about Plumitas and his deeds without dismay, smiling +as if he were discussing a natural and inevitable calamity. + +"They are poor boys that have been unlucky and have taken to the woods. +My father (may he rest in peace!) knew the famous Jose Maria and +breakfasted with him twice. I have come across many of less fame who +went around doing mischief. They are like bulls; courageous, simple +people. They only attack when they are pressed, growing hotter under +persecution." + +"He had left orders at his farmhouses and at all the herders' huts on +his vast territories for them to give Plumitas whatever he asked for. +According to tales of the overseers and cowboys, the bandit, with the +old time respect of the peasant for good and generous masters, spoke in +greatest praise of him, offering to kill any one who might offend the +Senor Marques in the least. Poor fellow! For a pittance, which was what +he asked when he presented himself, tired and hungry, it was not worth +while to irritate him and attract his vengeance." + +"The breeder, who galloped alone over the plains where his bulls +pastured, had a suspicion of having several times crossed Plumitas' path +without recognizing him. He must be one of those gaunt-looking horsemen +he met in the country solitudes with no town in sight and who raised his +hand to his grimy hat, saying with respectful simplicity: + +"God be with you, Senor Marques!" + +Moraima, when he talked of Plumitas, sometimes glanced at Gallardo, +who, with the vehemence of the neophyte, railed against the authorities +because they did not protect property. + +"Some fine day he'll present himself to thee at La Rincona', boy," said +the Marquis with his grave drawl. + +"Damn it! Well, that will not please me, Senor Marques. Man alive! And +must one pay such heavy taxes for that?" + +No; it would not please him to run against that bandit on his excursions +at La Rinconada. He was a brave man when killing bulls, and he forgot +his life in the ring; but these professional man-killers inspired him +with the terrors of the unknown. + +His family was at his plantation. Senora Angustias loved country life +after years spent in poverty in city houses. Carmen also enjoyed the +peace of the country. Her industrious disposition inclined her to see to +the work of the farm, enjoying the sweetness of ownership as she +realized the extent of her property. Moreover, the leather-worker's +children, those nephews and nieces who consoled her for her barrenness, +needed the country air for the good of their health. + +Gallardo had promised to join them, but put off his trip with all manner +of pretexts. He lived in his city house without other companionship than +that of Garabato, like a bachelor, and this permitted him complete +liberty in his relations with Dona Sol. He thought this the happiest +time of his life. Sometimes he even forgot the existence of La Rinconada +and its inhabitants. + +Mounted on fiery steeds he and Dona Sol rode out in the same costumes as +on that day when they first met, sometimes alone, sometimes in the +company of Don Jose, who by his presence seemed to mollify the scandal +of the people at this exhibition. They were going to see bulls on the +pastures near Seville, to test calves in the Marquis' herds, and Dona +Sol, eager for danger, was enraptured when a young bull, instead of +running away, turned against her at the prick of her javelin and +attacked her so that Gallardo had to rush to her rescue. + +Again they went to the station at Empalme, if a shipment of bulls had +been announced for the plazas which gave extra bull-fights late in the +winter. + +Dona Sol curiously examined this place, the most important centre of +exportation for the taurine industry. Near the railroad there were +extensive enclosures in which enormous boxes of gray wood, mounted on +wheels, and with two lift-doors, stood by the dozens, awaiting the busy +times of exhibitions, or the summer bull-fights. These boxes had +travelled all over the Peninsula, carrying noble bulls to distant plazas +and returning empty to be occupied by another, and yet another. + +Human fraud and cunning succeeded in managing as easily as merchandise +these wild beasts habituated to the freedom of the country. The bulls +that were to be sent off on the train came galloping along a broad dusty +road between two barbed wire fences. They came from far away pastures, +and as they drew near Empalme their drivers started them on a disorderly +race, so as to deceive them more completely by their scurrying speed. In +advance, at full gallop, rode the overseers and herders, with pikes over +their shoulders, followed by the prudent leaders covering the others +with enormous horns, showing them to be old cattle. After them trotted +the fierce bulls, the wild beasts destined for death, marching well +flanked by tame bulls, who prevented their getting out of the road, and +by strong cowboys who ran, sling in hand, ready to check with an +unerring stone the pair of horns that separated from the group. + +When they reached the enclosures the advance riders separated, remaining +outside the gate, and the whole troop of bulls, an avalanche of dust, +kicking, bellowing, and bell ringing, rushed impetuously into the place, +the barricade suddenly closing behind the tail of the last animal. +People astride the walls or peering through the galleries excited them +with shouts or by waving hats. They crossed the first enclosure, not +noticing that they were shut in, but as though they still ran in the +open country. The leaders, taught by experience and obedient to the +herders, stood to one side as soon as they went through the door, +letting the whirlwind of bulls that ran snorting after them, pass +quietly through. They only stopped, with surprise and uncertainty, in +the second enclosure, seeing the wall ahead of them, and as they turned, +they found the gate closed in the rear. + +Then the boxing up began. One by one the bulls were urged, by the waving +of rags, by shouts and blows, toward a little lane in the centre of +which was placed the travelling box with its lift-doors. It was like a +little tunnel at the end of which could be seen the open space of other +grassy enclosures and leaders that walked peacefully about; a fiction of +a far-away pasture which attracted the wild beast. + +He advanced slowly along the lane, now suspicious of danger and fearing +to set his feet on the gently sloping gangway that led to the box +mounted on wheels. The bull divined peril in this little tunnel which +presented itself before him as an inevitable passage. He felt on his +hind quarters the goad that urged him along the lane, obliging him to +advance; he saw above him two rows of people looking over the barriers +and exciting him with gesticulations and whistles. From the roof of the +box, where the carpenters were hidden ready to let the doors fall, hung +a red rag, waving in the rectangle of light framed by the other exit. +The pricks, the shouts, the shapeless mass that danced before his eyes +as if defying him, and the sight of his tranquil companions pastured on +the other side of the passage, finally decided him. He began to run +through the little tunnel; he made the wooden inclined plane tremble +with his weight, but he had scarcely entered the box when the door in +front fell, and before he could turn back the one behind him slid down. + +The loud grating of the locks was heard and the animal was swallowed up +in darkness and silence, a prisoner in a little space wherein he could +only lie down with his legs doubled up. Through a trap in the roof +armfuls of forage fell upon him; men pushed the perambulating dungeon on +its little wheels toward the nearby railroad, and immediately another +box was placed in the passage, repeating the deception, until all the +animals for the _corrida_ were ready to start on their journey. + +Dona Sol admired these proceedings in the great national industry with +all her enthusiasm for "color," and longed to imitate the overseers and +cowboys. She loved life in the open, the gallop over the immense plains +followed by sharp horns and bony foreheads that could give death with +the slightest movement. Her soul overflowed with strong love for the +pastoral life which we all feel sometimes within us, as an inheritance +from remote ancestors in that epoch in which man, not yet knowing how to +extract riches from the womb of the earth, lived by gathering the beasts +together and depending on their products for his sustenance. To be a +herder, and a herder of wild beasts, seemed to Dona Sol the most +interesting and heroic of professions. + +Gallardo, when he had overcome the first intoxication of his good luck, +contemplated the lady in wonder in the hours when they were alone, +asking himself if all women of the great world were like her. Her +caprices, her versatility, astounded him. He dared not _thou_ her; no, +not that. She had never encouraged him to such familiarity, and once +when he tried it, with hesitating tongue and trembling voice, he saw in +her eyes of gilded splendor such an expression of aloofness that he drew +back ashamed, returning to his old form of address. + +She on the other hand used _thou_ in her speech to him, as did the great +gentlemen friends of the bull-fighter, but this was only in hours of +intimacy. Whenever she had to write him a short note, telling him not to +come because she was obliged to go out with her relatives, she used +_you_, and in her letters were no other expressions of affection than +the coldly courteous ones which she might employ when writing to a +friend of the lower class. + +"That _gachi!_" murmured Gallardo disheartened. "It seems as if she has +always lived with scrubs who might show her letters to everybody and she +is afraid. Anybody would say she doesn't think me a gentleman because I +am a _matador!_" + +Other peculiarities of the great lady made the bull-fighter sulky and +sad. Sometimes, when he presented himself at her house, one of those +servants who looked like fine gentlemen in reduced circumstances coldly +barred the way. "The Senora is not in. The Senora has gone out." And he +guessed it was a lie, feeling Dona Sol's presence a short distance away +on the other side of door and curtains. No doubt she was getting tired, +was feeling a sudden aversion to him, and just at the moment of the call +gave orders to her servants not to receive him. + +"Well; the coal is burned up!" said he as he walked away. "I'll never +come back again. That _gachi_ is amusing herself with me." + +But when he returned he was ashamed of having believed in the +possibility of not seeing Dona Sol again. She received him holding out +to him white firm arms like those of an Amazon, her eyes wide and +wandering, with a strange light that seemed to reflect mental disorder. + +"Why dost thou perfume thyself?" she complained, as though she perceived +the most repugnant odors. "It is something unworthy of thee. I wish thee +to smell of bulls, of horses. What rich odors! Dost thou not love them? +Tell me yes, Juanin; beast of God, my animal!" + +One afternoon the bull-fighter, seeing her inclined to confidences, felt +curiosity regarding her past and asked about the kings and great +personages who, according to gossip, had crossed Dona Sol's life. + +She responded with a cold look in her light eyes. + +"And what does that matter to thee? Thou art jealous, maybe? And even if +it were true, what then?" + +She remained silent a long while, her gaze wandering, her look of +madness accompanied always by fantastic thoughts. + +"Thou must have beaten women," she said, looking at him with curiosity. +"Deny it not. That would greatly interest me! Not thy wife; I know that +she is good. I mean other women, all those that bull-fighters meet; the +women that love with more fury the more they are beaten. No? Truly hast +thou never beaten one?" + +Gallardo protested with the dignity of a brave man, incapable of +ill-treating those who were not so strong as he. Dona Sol showed a +certain disappointment on hearing his explanations. + +"Some day thou must beat me. I want to know what that is." She spoke +with resolution, and then her face clouded, her brows met, a blue +effulgence animated the gold dust of her pupils. + +"No, my strong man; mind me not; risk it not. Thou wouldst come out the +loser." + +The advice was valid and Gallardo had occasion to remember it. One day, +in a moment of intimacy, a somewhat rude caress from his bull-fighter +hands awoke the fury of this woman who was attracted to the fellow--and +hated him at the same time. "Take that!" And her right hand, clenched +and hard as a club, gave a blow up and down the swordsman's jaw, with an +accuracy that seemed to follow fixed rules of defence. + +Gallardo was stupefied with pain and shame, while the lady, as if she +understood the suddenness of her aggression, tried to justify it with a +cold hostility. + +"That is to teach thee a lesson. I know what you are, you bull-fighters. +If I should let myself be trampled on once thou wouldst end by flogging +me every day like a gypsy of Triana. That was well done. Distances must +be preserved." + +One afternoon, in the early spring, they were returning from a testing +of calves in the Marquis' pasture. He, with a troop of horsemen, rode +along the highway. Dona Sol, followed by the swordsman, turned her horse +through the fields, enjoying the elasticity of the sod under the horses' +feet. The setting sun dyed the verdure of the plain a soft purple, the +wild flowers dotted it with white and yellow. Across this expanse, on +which the colors took the ruddy tone of distant fire, the shadows of the +riders were outlined, long and slender. The spears they carried on their +shoulders were so gigantic in the shadow that their dark lines were lost +on the horizon. On one side shone the course of the river like a sheet +of reddish steel--half hidden in the grass. Dona Sol looked at Gallardo +with imperious eyes. + +"Put thy arm around my waist!" + +The swordsman obeyed and thus they rode, the two horses close together, +the riders united from the waist up. The lady contemplated their blended +shadows through the magic light of the meadow moving ahead of their slow +march. + +"It seems as though we were living in another world," she murmured, "a +world of legend; something like the scenes one sees on tapestries or +reads of in books of knight errantry; the knight and the Amazon +travelling together with the lance over the shoulder, enamoured and +seeking adventure and danger. But thou dost not understand that, beast +of my soul. Isn't it true that thou dost not comprehend me?" + +The bull-fighter smiled, showing his wholesome, strong teeth of +gleaming whiteness. She, as if charmed by his rude ignorance, pressed +her body against his, letting her head fall on his shoulder and +trembling at the caress of Gallardo's breath upon her neck. Thus they +rode in silence. Dona Sol seemed to be sleeping. Suddenly she opened her +eyes and in them shone that strange expression that was a forerunner of +the most extravagant questions. + +"Tell me, hast thou ever killed a man?" + +Gallardo was agitated, and in his astonishment drew away from Dona Sol. +Who? He? Never! He was a good fellow who had made his way without doing +harm to anybody. He had scarcely ever quarrelled with his companions in +the _capeas_, not even when they kept the copper coins because they were +stronger. A few fisticuffs in some disputes with his comrades in the +profession; a blow with a flask in a _cafe_; these were the sum of his +deeds. He was inspired with an invincible respect for the life of man. +Bulls were another thing! + +"So thou hast never had a desire to kill a man? And I thought that +bull-fighters--!" + +The sun hid itself, the meadow lost its fantastic illumination, the +light on the river went out, and the lady saw the tapestry scene she had +admired so much become dark and commonplace. The other horsemen rode far +in advance and she spurred her steed to join the group, without a word +to Gallardo, as if she took no heed of his following her. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +DIAMONDS IN THE RING + + +Gallardo's family returned to the city for the _fiestas_ of Holy Week. +He was to fight in the Easter _corrida_. It was the first time he would +kill in the presence of Dona Sol since his acquaintance with her, and +this troubled him and made him doubt his strength. + +Besides he could not fight in Seville without a certain emotion. He +would be resigned to a calamity in any other town of Spain, knowing he +would not return there for a long while; but in his own city, where were +his greatest enemies! + +"We shall see if thou dost shine," said the manager. "Think of those who +will see thee. I want thee to be the greatest man in the world." + +On Holy Saturday the penning in of the bulls destined for the _corrida_ +took place in the small hours of the night, and Dona Sol wished to +assist in this operation as _piquero_. The bulls must be conducted from +the pasture ground of Tablada to the enclosures in the plaza. + +Gallardo did not assist, in spite of his desire to accompany Dona Sol. +The manager opposed it, alleging the necessity of his resting to be +fresh and vigorous on the following afternoon. At midnight the road that +leads from the pasture to the plaza was animated like a fair. The +windows of the taverns were illuminated, and before them passed linked +shadows moving with the steps of the dance to the sound of the pianos. +From the inns, the red doorways flashed rectangles of light over the +dark ground, and in their interiors arose shouts, laughter, twanging of +guitars, and clinking of glasses, a sign that wine circulated in +abundance. + +About one in the morning a horseman passed up the road at a short trot. +He was the herald, a rough herder who stopped before the inns and +illuminated houses, announcing that the bulls for the penning-in were to +pass in a quarter of an hour, and asking that the lights be put out and +all remain in silence. + +This command in the name of the national fiesta was obeyed with more +celerity than an order from high authority. The houses were darkened and +their whiteness was blended with the sombre mass of the trees; the +people became quiet, hiding themselves behind window-grilles, palisades, +and wire-fences, in the silence of those who await an extraordinary +event. On the walks near the river, one by one the gas lights were +extinguished as the herder advanced announcing the penning-in. + +All was silent. In the sky, above the masses of trees, the stars +sparkled in the dense calm of space; below, along the ground, a slight +movement was heard, as if countless insects swarmed thick in the +darkness. The wait seemed long until the solemn tinkling of far away +bells rang out in the cool stillness. They are coming! There they are! + +Louder rose the clash and clamor of the copper bells, accompanied by a +confused galloping that made the earth tremble. First passed a body of +horsemen at full speed, with lances held low, gigantic in the obscure +light. These were the herders. Then a troop of amateur lancers, among +whom was Dona Sol, panting from this mad race through the shadows in +which one false step of the horse, a fall, meant death by being trampled +beneath the hard feet of the ferocious herd that came behind, blind in +their disorderly race. + +The bells rang furiously; the open mouths of the spectators hidden in +the darkness swallowed clouds of dust, and the fierce herd passed like a +nightmare--shapeless monsters of the night that trotted heavily and +swiftly, shaking their masses of flesh, emitting hideous bellowings, +goring at the shadows, but frightened and irritated by the shouts of the +under-herder who followed on foot, and by the galloping of the horsemen +that brought up the rear, harassing them with goads. + +The passage of this heavy and noisy troop lasted but an instant. Now +there was nothing more to be seen. The crowd, satisfied at this fleeting +spectacle after the long wait, came out of their hiding-places, and many +enthusiasts started to run after the herd with the hope of seeing it +enter the enclosures. + +The amateur lancers congratulated themselves on the great success of the +penning-in. The herd had come well flanked without a single bull +straying or getting away or making trouble for lancers and _peones_. +They were fine-blooded animals; the very best of the Marquis' herd. On +the morrow, if the _maestros_ showed bull-fighter pride, they were going +to see great things. And in the hope of a grand _fiesta_ riders and +_peones_ departed. One hour afterward the environs of the plaza were +dark and deserted, holding in their bowels the ferocious beasts which +fell quietly into the last sleep of their lives in this prison. + +The following morning Juan Gallardo rose early. He had slept badly, with +a restlessness that filled his dreams with nightmare. + +He wished they would not give him _corridas_ in Seville! In other towns +he lived like a bachelor, forgetting his family momentarily, in a +strange room in a hotel that did not suggest anything, as it contained +nothing personal. But to dress himself in his glittering costume in his +own bed-chamber, seeing on chairs and tables objects that reminded him +of Carmen; to go out to meet danger from that house which he had built +and which held the most intimate belongings of his existence, +disconcerted him and produced as great uneasiness as if he were going to +kill his first bull. Ah! the terrible moment of leaving, when, dressed +by Garabato in the shining costume, he descended to the silent +courtyard! His nephews approached him awed by the brilliant ornaments of +his apparel, touching them with admiration, not daring to speak; his +be-whiskered sister gave him a kiss with an expression of terror, as if +he were going to his death; his _mamita_ hid herself in the darkest +rooms. No, she could not see him; she felt sick. Carmen was animated but +very pale, her lips, purple from emotion, were compressed, her +eye-lashes moved nervously in the effort to keep herself calm and when +she at last saw him in the vestibule, she suddenly raised her +handkerchief to her eyes, her body was shaken by tremendous sobs, and +his sister and other women had to support her that she might not fall to +the floor. + +It was enough to daunt even the very Roger de Flor of whom his +brother-in-law talked. + +"Damn it! Man alive!" said Gallardo. "Not for all the gold in the world +would I fight in Seville, if it were not to give pleasure to my +countrymen and so that the shameless brutes cannot say that I'm afraid +of the home audiences." + +He walked through the house with a cigarette in his mouth, stretching +himself to see if his muscular arms kept their agility. He took a cup of +Cazalla in the kitchen and watched his _mamita_, ever industrious in +spite of her years and her flesh, moving about near the fireplaces, +treating the servants with maternal vigilance, managing everything for +the good government of the house. + +Garabato came to announce that friends were waiting for him in the +courtyard. They were enthusiastic connoisseurs, the admirers who called +on him on bull-fight days. The _matador_ instantly forgot all his +anxieties and went out smiling, his head thrown back, his bearing +arrogant, as if the bulls that awaited him in the plaza were personal +enemies whom he desired to face as soon as possible and make them bite +the dust with his unerring sword. + +The farewell was, as on other occasions, disconcerting and disturbing to +Gallardo. The women fled so as not to see him go, all except Carmen, who +forced herself to keep serene, and accompanied him to the door; the +astonishment and curiosity of his little nephews annoyed the +bull-fighter, arrogant and manful now that the hour of danger had come. + +"I should think they were taking me to the gallows! Well, see you later! +Don't worry, nothing is going to happen." + +And he stepped into his carriage, forcing his way among the neighbors +and the curious grouped before his house, who wished good luck to Senor +Juan. + +The afternoons when the bull-fighter fought in Seville were agonizing +for his family as well as for himself. They had not the same resignation +as on other occasions when they had to wait patiently for nightfall and +the arrival of the telegram. Here the danger was near at hand and this +aroused anxiety for news and the desire to know the progress of the +_corrida_ every quarter of an hour. + +The leather-worker, dressed like a gentleman, in a fine light woollen +suit and a silky white felt hat, offered his services to the women in +sending messages, although he was furious at the neglect of his +illustrious brother-in-law who had not even offered him a seat in the +coach! At the termination of each bull that Juan killed, he would send +news of the event by one of the boys who swarmed around the plaza. + +The _corrida_ was a noisy success for Gallardo. As he entered the ring +and heard the applause of the multitude, he felt that he had grown +several inches taller. He knew the soil he trod; it was familiar; he +felt it his own. The sand of the various arenas exercised a certain +influence on his superstitious soul. He recollected the great plazas of +Valencia and Barcelona with their whitish ground, the dark sand of the +plazas of the north, and the reddish earth of the great ring of Madrid. +The arena of Seville was different from the others--sand from the +Guadalquivir, a deep yellow, as if it were pulverized paint. When the +disembowelled horses shed their blood upon it, Gallardo thought of the +colors of the national flag, that floated over the roof around the +ring. + +The diverse architecture of the plazas also influenced the +bull-fighter's imagination, which was readily agitated by the +phantasmagoria of uneasiness. There were rings of more or less recent +construction, some in Roman style, others Moorish, which had the +banality of new churches where all seems empty and colorless. The plaza +of Seville was a taurine cathedral of memories familiar to many +generations, with its facade recalling a past century--a time when the +men wore the powdered wig--and its ochre ring, which the most stupendous +heroes had trod. It had known the glorious inventors of difficult feats, +the perfecters of the art, the heavy champions of the _round school_ +with its correct and dignified bull-fighting system, the agile, gay +_maestros_ of the Sevillian school with their plays and mobility that +set the audiences wild--and there he, too, on that afternoon, +intoxicated by the applause, by the sun, by the clamor, and by the sight +of a white _mantilla_ and a blue-clad figure leaning over the railing of +a box, felt equal to the most heroic deeds. + +Gallardo seemed to fill the ring with his agility and daring, anxious to +outshine his companions, and eager that the applause should be for him +alone. His admirers had never seen him so great. The manager, after each +one of his brave deeds, arose and shouted, defying invisible enemies +hidden in the masses on the seats: "Let's see who dares say a word! The +greatest man in the world!" + +The second bull Gallardo was to kill Nacional drew, with skilful +cape-work, to the foot of the box where sat Dona Sol in blue gown and +white _mantilla_, with the Marquis and his two daughters. Gallardo +walked close to the barrier with sword and _muleta_ in one hand, +followed by the eyes of the multitude, and when he stood before the box, +he looked up, taking off his cap. He was going to tender his bull to the +niece of the Marquis of Moraima! Many smiled with a malicious +expression. "Hurrah for the lucky boys!" He gave a half turn, throwing +down his cap to end his speech, and awaited the bull which the _peones_ +were drawing over by the play of the cape. In a short time, managing so +that the bull did not get away from this place, the _matador_ +accomplished his feat. He wished to kill under the very eyes of Dona Sol +so that, at close range, she should see him defying danger. Each pass of +his _muleta_ was accompanied by acclamations of enthusiasm and shouts of +fear. The horns passed close to his breast; it seemed impossible for him +to escape the attacks of the bull without losing blood. Suddenly he +squared himself, with the sword raised for attack, and before the +audience could voice their opinions with shouts and counsel, he swiftly +threw himself upon the brute and man and animal formed but a single +body. + +When the _matador_ drew away and stood motionless, the bull ran with +halting step, bellowing, with distended nostrils, his tongue hanging +between his lips and the red hilt of the sword visible in his +blood-stained neck. He fell a few steps away and the audience rose to +its feet _en masse_ as though it were a single body moved by a powerful +spring; the outburst of applause and the fury of the acclamations broke +out in a violent storm. There was not another brave man in the world +equal to Gallardo! Could that youth ever once have felt fear? + +The swordsman saluted before the box, extending his arms holding the +sword and _muleta_, while Dona Sol's white-gloved hands beat together in +a fever of applause. + +Then something flew past spectator after spectator, from the box to the +barrier. It was a lady's handkerchief, the one she carried in her hand, +a fragrant tiny square of batiste and lace drawn through a ring of +brilliants that she presented to the bull-fighter in exchange for this +honor. + +Applause broke out again at this gift, and the attention of the +audience, fixed until then on the _matador_, was distracted, many +turning their backs to the ring, to look at Dona Sol, praising her +beauty in loud voices with the familiarity of Andalusian gallantry. A +small, hairy triangle, still warm, was passed from hand to hand from the +barrier to the box. It was the bull's ear, which the _matador_ sent in +testimony of his _brindis_. + +At the close of the bull-fight, news of Gallardo's great success spread +throughout the city. When he arrived at his house the neighbors awaited +him at the door, applauding him as if they had actually witnessed the +_corrida_. + +The leather-worker, forgetting his anger at the swordsman, candidly +admired him, though more for his valuable friendship than for his +success as a bull-fighter. He had long kept his eye on a certain +position which he no longer doubted his ability to get, now that his +brother-in-law had friends among the best in Seville. + +"Show them the ring. See, Encarnacion, what a fine gift! Not even Roger +de Flor himself--!" + +And the ring was passed around among the women, who admired it with +exclamations of enthusiasm. Only Carmen made a wry face when she saw it. +"Yes, very pretty," and she passed it to her sister-in-law, as though +it burned her hands. + +After this bull-fight, the season of travel began for Gallardo. He had +more contracts than in any previous year. Following the _corrida_ in +Madrid he had to fight in all the rings in Spain. His manager studied +train schedules and made interminable calculations for the guidance of +his _matador_. + +Gallardo passed from success to success. He had never felt in better +spirits. It seemed as though he carried a new force within him. Before +the bull-fights cruel doubts assailed him, anxieties he had never felt +in the hard times when he was just beginning to make a name for himself; +but the moment he entered the ring these fears vanished and he displayed +a fierce courage accompanied ever by great success. + +After his work, in whatever plaza of the provinces, he returned to his +hotel followed by his _cuadrilla_, for they all lived together. He +seated himself, glowing with the pleasant fatigue of triumph, without +removing his glittering costume, and the connoisseurs of the community +came to congratulate him. He had been colossal! He was the greatest +bull-fighter in the world. That stab when he killed the fourth bull! + +"Is it really so?" asked Gallardo with infantile pride. "That wasn't +bad, sure." + +And with the interminable verbosity of all conversation about bulls, +time passed unheeded by the bull-fighter and his admirers, who never +tired of talking of the _corrida_ of the afternoon and of others that +had taken place some years before. Night closed in, lights were brought, +yet the devotees did not go. The _cuadrilla_, obedient to the +discipline of the profession, silently listened to their gossip at one +end of the room. Until the _maestro_ gave them permission, the boys +could not go to dress and eat. The _picadores_, fatigued by the heavy +iron armor on their legs and by the terrific falls from their horses, +shifted their beaver hats from knee to knee; the _banderilleros_, +prisoners in their garments of silk, wet with sweat, were hungry after +an afternoon of violent exercise. All had but a single thought and cast +terrible glances at the enthusiasts. + +"But when will these tiresome old uncles go? Damn their souls!" + +Finally the _matador_ remembered them. "You may retire." And the +_cuadrilla_ went out crowding each other like a school set free, while +the _maestro_ continued listening to the praises of the "intelligent," +without thinking of Garabato who silently awaited the moment of +undressing him. + +During his days of rest, the _maestro_, free from the excitement and +danger of glory, turned his thoughts to Seville. Now and then he +received one of those brief, perfumed little notes. Ah! if he had Dona +Sol with him! + +In this continual travel from one audience to another, adored by the +enthusiasts, who desired to have him spend a pleasant time in their +town, he met women and attended entertainments gotten up in his honor. +He always went away from these feasts with his brain clouded by wine and +in a fit of ferocious sadness that made him intractable. He felt a cruel +desire to ill-treat the women. It was an irresistible impulse to revenge +himself for the aggressiveness and caprices of that other woman on those +of her own sex. + +There were moments when it was necessary to confide his sorrows to +Nacional with that irresistible impulse to confession felt by those who +carry a great weight on their minds. Moreover the _banderillero_ awoke +in him, when far from Seville, a greater affection, a reflected +tenderness. Sebastian knew of his love affair with Dona Sol. He had seen +it, although from afar, and she had often laughed on hearing Gallardo +tell of the _banderillero's_ eccentricities. + +Nacional received the _maestro's_ confidences with an expression of +severity. + +"The thing thou shouldst do, Juan, is to forget that lady. Remember that +peace in the family is worth more than anything else for us who go about +the world exposed to the danger of coming home useless forever. Remember +that Carmen knows more than thou dost think. She knows everything. She +has asked indirect questions even of me about thy affairs with the +Marquis' niece. Poor girl! It is a sin that thou shouldst make her +suffer. She has her temper, and if she lets it loose she'll give thee +trouble." + +But Gallardo, far from his family, his thought dominated by the memory +of Dona Sol, seemed not to understand the dangers of which Nacional +discoursed, and he shrugged his shoulders at such sentimental scruples. + +He needed to speak his thoughts, to make his friend participate in his +past joys, with the pride of a satisfied lover who wishes to be admired +in his happiness. + +"But thou dost not know that woman! Thou, Sebastian, art an unfortunate +fellow that knowest not the best in life. Imagine all the women of +Seville put together! Nothing! Imagine all those of all the towns where +we have been! Nothing, either! There is only Dona Sol. When one knows a +lady like that one has no mind for any other. If thou didst know her as +I do, boy! The woman of our kind smell of clean flesh, of white +clothing. But this one, Sebastian, this one! Imagine all the roses of +the gardens of the Alcazar together. No, it is something better; imagine +jasmine, honeysuckle, and perfume of vines like those that must grow in +the garden of Paradise. But her sweet odors come from within, as if she +did not put them on, as if they came from her very blood. And besides, +she is not one of those who, once seen, are forever the same. With her +there is always something yet to be desired; something one longs for and +that doesn't come. In fine, Sebastian, I cannot explain myself well--but +thou knowest not what a lady is; so preach not to me and shut thy beak." + +Gallardo no longer received letters from Seville. Dona Sol was +travelling in foreign lands. He saw her once when he fought at San +Sebastian. The beautiful lady was at Biarritz and she came in company +with some French women who wished to meet the bull-fighter. He saw her +one afternoon. She went away and he had only vague knowledge of her +during the summer through the few letters he received and through the +news his manager communicated from chance words dropped by the Marquis +of Moraima. + +She was at elegant watering-places whose very names Gallardo heard for +the first time, and they were of impossible pronunciation for him; then +he heard that she was travelling in England; afterward that she had gone +on to Germany to hear some operas sung in a wonderful theatre that only +opened its doors a few weeks each year. Gallardo lost faith in ever +seeing her again. She was a bird of passage, venturesome and restless, +and he dared not hope that she would seek her nest in Seville again when +winter returned. This possibility saddened him and revealed the power +this woman had exercised over his body and his mind. Never to see her +again? Why then expose his life and be celebrated? Of what use was the +applause of the multitude? + +His manager tried to soothe him. She would return; he was sure. She +would return, if only for a year. Dona Sol, with all her mad caprices, +was a practical woman, who knew how to look out for her property. She +needed the Marquis' help to unravel the business tangles of her own +fortune and that which her husband had left her, both diminished by a +long and luxurious sojourn far from home. + +Gallardo returned to Seville at the end of the summer. He still had a +goodly number of autumn bull-fights, but he wished to take advantage of +nearly a month of rest. His family was at the seashore at Sanlucar, for +the health of the little nephews, who needed the salt-water cure. + +Gallardo was overcome with emotion when his manager announced one day +that Dona Sol had just arrived, unexpected by any one. He went to see +her immediately, but after a few words he felt intimidated by her frigid +amiability and the expression of her eyes. + +She gazed at him as if he were a stranger. He divined in her manner a +certain surprise at the bull-fighter's rough exterior, at the difference +between herself and this youth, a mere killer of beasts. He also divined +the gulf that had opened between the two. She seemed to him a different +woman; a great dame of another land and race. + +They chatted pleasantly. She seemed to have forgotten the past, and +Gallardo lacked the courage to remind her of it, nor did he dare to make +the slightest advance, fearing one of her outbursts of anger. + +"Seville!" said Dona Sol. "Very pretty--very agreeable. But there are +other places in the world. I tell you, Gallardo, that some day I am +going to take my flight forever. I foresee that I am going to be very +much bored here. It seems to me my Seville has changed." + +She no longer _thou_-ed him. Several days passed before the bull-fighter +dared to remind her of other times during his calls. He limited himself +to contemplating her in silence, with his moist, adoring Moorish eyes. + +"I am bored. I may leave any day," exclaimed the lady at every one of +their interviews. + +Once again the servant with the imposing air met the bull-fighter at the +inner gate and told him the Senora had gone out when he knew for a +certainty she was in the house. + +Gallardo told her one afternoon about a short excursion he must take to +his plantation at La Rinconada. He must look at some olive orchards his +manager had bought during his absence to add to his estate; he must also +acquaint himself with the progress of the work on the plantation. + +The idea of accompanying the _matador_ on this excursion occurred to +Dona Sol and made her smile at its absurdity and daring. To go to that +hacienda where Gallardo's family spent a part of the year! To invade +with the scandalous audacity of irregularity and sin that tranquil +atmosphere of domestic life where the poor youth lived with those of his +own home! The very absurdity of the idea decided her. She would go; it +would interest her to see La Rinconada. + +Gallardo was afraid. He thought of the people on the plantation, of the +gossips who would tell his family about this trip. But the look in Dona +Sol's eyes overthrew his scruples. Who could tell! Maybe this trip would +bring back the old situation. + +He wished, however, to offer a final obstacle to this desire. + +"And Plumitas? Remember about him; they say that he is around La +Rinconada." + +"Ah! Plumitas!" Dona Sol's countenance, clouded by _ennui_, seemed to +clear by a sudden flash from within. "How charming! I would be delighted +if you could present him." + +Gallardo arranged the trip. He had expected to go alone, but Dona Sol's +company obliged him to take an escort for fear of an unhappy adventure +on the road. He sought Potaje, the _picador_. He was a rough fellow, and +feared nothing in the world but his gypsy wife, who, when she grew tired +of taking beatings, tried to bite him. No need to give explanations to +him--only wine in abundance. Alcohol and the atrocious falls in the ring +kept him in a perpetual state of stupidity, as if his head buzzed and +prevented him from saying more than a few words and permitted him but a +clouded vision of things in general. + +Gallardo also ordered Nacional to go with them; one more, and that was +discretion beyond all doubt. + +The _banderillero_ obeyed from force of habit but grumbled when he heard +that Dona Sol was going with them. + +"By the life of the blue dove! Must a father of a family see himself +mixed up in these ugly affairs! What will Carmen and Sena' Angustias say +about me if they find it out?" + +When he found himself in the open country, placed beside Potaje on the +seat of an automobile, in front of the _matador_ and the great lady, his +anger little by little vanished. He could not see her well, hidden as +she was in a great blue veil that fell from her travelling cap and +floated over her yellow silk coat; but she was very beautiful. And such +conversation! And such knowledge of things! + +Before half the journey was over, Nacional, with his twenty-five years +of marital fidelity, excused the weakness of the _matador_, and made +vain efforts to explain his enthusiasm to himself. + +"Whoever found himself in the same situation would do the same. + +"Education! A fine thing, capable of giving respectability to even the +greatest sins." + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +BREAKFAST WITH THE BANDIT + + +"Let him tell thee who he is--or else let the devil take him. Damn the +luck! Can't a man sleep?" + +Nacional heard this answer through the door of his master's room, and +transmitted it to a _peon_ belonging to the hacienda who stood waiting +on the stairs. + +"Let him tell thee who he is! Unless he does, the master won't get up." + +It was eight o'clock. The _banderillero_ peeped out of the window, +following with his gaze the _peon_ who ran along the road in front of +the plantation until he came to the farther end of the wire fence that +surrounded the estate. Near the entrance to this enclosure he saw a man +on horseback,--so small in the distance, both man and horse seemed to +have stepped out of a box of toys. + +The laborer soon returned, after having talked with the horseman. +Nacional, interested in these goings and comings, received him at the +foot of the stairs. + +"He says he must see the master," faltered the _peon_. "He looks like an +ill-tempered fellow. He says he wants the master to come down at once +because he's got news for him." + +The _banderillero_ hastened upstairs to pound on the master's door +again, paying no attention to his protests. He must get up; it was late +for the country and that man might bring an important message. + +"I'm coming!" said Gallardo, gruffly, without rising from his bed. + +Nacional peeped out again and saw that the horseman was advancing along +the road toward the farmhouse. + +The _peon_ ran out with the answer. He, poor man, seemed nervous, and in +his two dialogues with the _banderillero_ stammered with an expression +of fear and doubt as though not daring to reveal his thoughts. When he +joined the man on horseback, he listened to him a few moments and then +returned on a run toward the house, this time with even more +precipitation. Nacional heard him come up the stairs with no abatement +of speed, till he stood before him, trembling and pale. + +"It's Plumitas, Senor Sebastian! He says he's Plumitas and that he must +talk to the master. My heart told me that the minute I saw him." + +Plumitas! The voice of the _peon_, in spite of his stammering and his +panting with fatigue, seemed to pierce the walls and scatter through +every room as he pronounced this name. The _banderillero_ was struck +dumb with surprise. The sound of oaths accompanied by the swish of +clothing and the thud of a body that hastily flung itself out of bed +were heard in the master's room. In the one Dona Sol occupied there was +a sudden activity that seemed to respond to the tremendous news. + +"But, damn him! What does that man want with me? Why does he intrude +himself at La Rinconada? And especially just now!" + +It was Gallardo who rushed madly out of his room, with only his trousers +and jacket hurriedly thrown on over his underclothing. He ran past the +_banderillero_, and threw himself down the stairs, followed by +Nacional. + +The rider was dismounting before the door. A herder was holding the +reins of the mare and the other workmen formed a group a short distance +away, contemplating the newcomer with curiosity and respect. + +He was a man of medium stature, stocky rather than tall, full-faced, +blonde, and with short strong limbs. He was dressed in a gray blouse +trimmed with black braid, dark, well-worn breeches with a double +thickness of cloth on the inside of the leg, and leathern leggings +cracked by sun, rain, and mud. Under his blouse his girth was enlarged +by the addition of a heavy girdle and a cartridge-belt, to which were +added the bulkiness of a heavy revolver and a formidable knife. In his +right hand he carried a repeating carbine. A hat which had once been +white covered his head, its brim flapping and worn ragged by the +inclement weather. A red handkerchief knotted around his neck was the +gayest adornment of his person. + +His countenance, broad and chub-cheeked, had the placidity of a full +moon. His cheeks still revealed the fair skin through their heavy tan; +the sharp points of a blonde beard, not shaven for many days, protruded, +gleaming like old gold in the sunlight. His eyes were the only +disquieting feature of his kindly face, which looked like that of a +village sacristan; eyes small and triangular, sunken in bubbles of +fat--narrow eyes, that reminded one of the eyes of pigs, with a wicked +pupil of dark blue. + +When Gallardo appeared at the door of the farmhouse the bandit +recognized him instantly and lifted his hat from his round head. + +"God give you good-day, Senor Juan," he said with the grave courtesy of +the Andalusian country people. + +"Good-day." + +"The family well, Senor Juan?" + +"Well, thanks, and yours?" asked the matador with the automatism of +custom. + +"Well, also, I believe. I haven't seen them for some time." + +The two men had drawn near together, examining one another at close +range with simple frankness as though they were two travellers met in +the open country. The bull-fighter was pale and his lips were compressed +to hide his emotion. Did the bandit think he was going to scare him? On +another occasion perhaps this visit would have frightened him; but now, +having upstairs whom he had, he felt equal to fighting him as though he +were a bull, should he announce any evil intentions. + +Some seconds passed in silence. All the men of the plantation who had +not gone to their labors in the field, obsessed by the dark fame of his +name, contemplated this terrible personage with an amazement that had in +it something infantile. + +"Can they take the mare to the stable to rest a little?" asked the +bandit. + +Gallardo made a sign and a boy tugged at the animal's reins, leading her +away. + +"Care for her well," said Plumitas. "Remember that she's the best thing +I've got in the world and that I love her more than my wife and +children." + +Potaje now came out with his shirt unbuttoned, stretching himself with +all the brutal bigness of his athletic body. He rubbed his eyes, always +blood-shot and inflamed from abuse of drink, and striding up to the +bandit he let a great rough hand fall on one of his shoulders with +studied familiarity, as if he enjoyed making him wince beneath his fist, +but expressing to him at the same time a rude sympathy. + +"How art thou, Plumitas?" + +He had not seen him before. The bandit shrank back as though to spring +from this rude caress, and his right hand raised his rifle, but the blue +eyes, fastened on the _picador_, seemed to recognize him. + +"Thou art Potaje, if I don't deceive myself. I have seen thee stir up +the bulls at Seville and in other plazas. Comrade, what terrible falls +thou hast suffered! How strong thou art! As though made of iron." + +And to return his greeting, he grasped one of Potaje's arms with his +callous hand, feeling his muscle with a smile of admiration. The two +stood gazing at one another with affectionate eyes. The _picador_ +laughed sonorously. + +"Ho! Ho! I imagined thee a bigger man, Plumitas. But it matters not; +take thee altogether, thou art a fine fellow." + +The bandit turned to Gallardo: + +"Can I breakfast here?" + +Gallardo made a gesture of the _gran senor_. + +"Nobody who comes to La Rincona' goes without breakfasting." + +They all entered the kitchen of the farmhouse, a vast room with a +bell-shaped chimney, the habitual place of these gatherings. + +The _matador_ seated himself in an arm-chair; the farmer's daughter +busied herself putting on his shoes, for he had rushed down in his +slippers. + +Nacional, wishing to show signs of existence and tranquillized now by +the courteous aspect of the visitor, appeared with a bottle of native +wine and glasses. + +"I know thee, also," said the bandit with as much politeness as to the +_picador_. "I have seen thee lodge the _banderillas_. When thou wishest +thou dost it well; but thou shouldst get closer." + +Potaje and the _maestro_ laughed at this counsel. When he went to raise +his glass, Plumitas was embarrassed by his carbine, which he held +between his knees. + +"Say, man, put that down," said the _picador_. "Must thou keep on guard +even when thou goest on a visit?" + +The bandit grew serious. It was all right where it was; it was his +custom. The rifle accompanied him always, even when he slept. And this +allusion to the weapon, which was like an additional member, ever united +to his body, turned him grave again. He looked in all directions with a +nervous restlessness. Anxiety showed in his face the habit of living +alert, of trusting nobody, with no other reliance than his own strength, +having a presentiment of danger near him every hour. + +A herder walked through the kitchen in the direction of the door. + +"Where's that man going?" + +As he said this he rose in his seat, drawing the rifle towards his +breast with his knees. + +He was bound for a large field nearby where the farm laborers were +working. Plumitas settled himself peacefully again. + +"Listen, Senor Juan. I have come for the pleasure of seeing you and +because I know you are a gentleman, incapable of breathing a whisper +against me. Besides, you must have heard talk of Plumitas. 'Tis not +easy to catch him and whoever does it shall pay for it." + +The _picador_ intervened before his _maestro_ could speak. + +"Plumitas, don't be silly. Here thou art among comrades while thou dost +behave and carry thyself decently." + +And the bandit, becoming suddenly relieved, began to talk to the +_picador_ about his mare, boasting of her merits. The two men met on a +common ground of enthusiasm as fearless riders, which caused them to +regard horses with more affection than people. + +Gallardo, still somewhat restless, walked about the kitchen, while the +brown, broad-shouldered women of the farm stirred the fire and prepared +breakfast, looking out of the corners of their eyes at the celebrated +Plumitas. In one of his evolutions he drew near Nacional. He must go to +Dona Sol's room and beg her not to come down. The bandit would surely go +after breakfast. Why let herself be seen by this annoying personage? + +The _banderillero_ disappeared, and Plumitas noticing that the _maestro_ +was taking no part in the conversation, turned to him, asking him with +interest about the rest of the season's bull-fights. + +"I am a Gallardist, you know. I have applauded you more times than you +can imagine. I have seen you in Seville, in Jaen, in Cordova, in many +places." + +Gallardo was surprised at this. How could he, who had a veritable army +of persecutors at his heels, quietly attend bull-fights? Plumitas smiled +with an expression of superiority. + +"Bah! I go where I wish. I am everywhere." + +Then he told of the occasions when he had seen the _matador_ on the way +to the plantation, sometimes accompanied, sometimes alone, passing him +close in the road without being noticed, as though he were a humble +herder riding on his nag to carry a message to some nearby hut. + +"When you came from Seville to buy the two mills you have below, I met +you on the road. You were carrying five thousand _duros_. Were you not? +Tell the truth. You see I know all about it. Again I saw you in one of +those 'animals' they call automobiles, with another gentleman from +Seville, your manager, I think. You were going to sign the papers for +the Priests' olive orchard and you were carrying a still larger bag of +money." + +Gallardo little by little recalled the exactness of these facts, and +looked with astonishment at this man who was informed of everything. And +the bandit went on to tell how little respect he had for obstacles. + +"You see those things they call automobiles? Mere trifles! Such vermin I +stop with nothing but this." And he touched his rifle. "In Cordova I had +accounts to settle with a rich _senor_ who was my enemy. I planted my +mare on one side of the road and when the beast came along, raising dust +and stinking of petroleum, I shouted 'Halt!' It wouldn't stop, and I let +the thing that goes around the wheel have a ball. To abbreviate: the +auto stopped a little farther on and I set out at a gallop to join the +_senor_ and settle accounts. A man that can send a ball where he wants +to can stop anything on the road." + +Gallardo listened in astonishment to Plumitas' calm professional talk of +his deeds on the highway. + +"There was no reason for stopping you. You do not belong to the rich. +You spring from the poor as I do, but with better luck, with more of +fortune in your work than I, and if you have made money you have well +earned it. I have great respect for you, Senor Juan. I like you because +you are a brave _matador_ and I have a weakness for valiant men. We two +are almost comrades; we both live by exposing our lives. So, although +you did not know me, I was there, watching you pass, without even asking +for a cigarette, to see that nobody dared so much as touch one of your +finger nails; to see that no shameless fellow took advantage of you by +riding out into the road and saying he was Plumitas, for stranger things +have happened." + +An unexpected apparition ended the bandit's speech and moved the +bull-fighter's countenance to anger. "Damn it! Dona Sol!" But hadn't +Nacional given her his message? The _banderillero_ followed the lady, +and as he stood in the kitchen door he made gestures of despair to +indicate to the _maestro_ that his prayers and counsel had been useless. + +Dona Sol came in wearing her travelling cloak, her golden hair loosely +combed and knotted in all haste. Plumitas at the plantation! What joy! +She had been thinking of him half the night with sweet thrills of +terror, proposing to herself to ride over all the lonely places near La +Rinconada, hoping good luck would cause her to fall in with the +interesting bandit. And, as if her thoughts had exercised a power of +attraction, the highwayman had obeyed her desires and presented himself +at the plantation early in the morning! + +Plumitas! That name brought to her mind the typical figure of a bandit. +She hardly needed to meet him; she would scarcely experience surprise. +She imagined him tall, well-formed, well-browned, with a three-cornered +hat above a red handkerchief, from beneath which fell jet black curls; +his agile body dressed in black velvet; his tapering waist bound by a +belt of purple silk; his legs encased in date-colored leather +leggings--a knight errant of the Andalusian steppes, almost like those +elegant tenors she had seen in "Carmen" who discard the soldiers' +uniform and become contrabandists for the sake of love. + +Her eyes, wide with curiosity, wandered over the kitchen without finding +a three-cornered hat or an ancient fire-lock. She saw an unknown man who +rose to his feet; a kind of a country guard with a carbine, like those +she had often met on the family estates. + +"Good-day, Senora Marquesa. And your uncle, the Marquis, does he keep +well?" + +The gaze of all, converging upon this man, told her the truth. Ah! this +was Plumitas! + +He had removed his hat with rough courtesy, embarrassed by the lady's +presence; he continued standing, the carbine in one hand and the old +felt hat in the other. + +Gallardo wondered at the bandit's words. The man knew everybody. He knew +who Dona Sol was and with a respectful impulse he gave her the family +title. + +The lady, recovering from her surprise, made a sign for him to be seated +and to cover himself, but, although he obeyed the former, he put his hat +on a nearby chair. As if divining a question in Dona Sol's eyes, which +were fixed on him, he added: + +"Let the Senora Marquesa not be surprised that I know her; I have seen +her many times with the Marquis and other gentlemen when they were +going to test calves. I have also seen from a distance how the lady +attacked the beasts. The Senora is very brave and the finest girl I have +seen in this, God's own country! It is perfect joy to see her on +horseback, with her three-cornered hat, her cravat, and her belt. The +men must follow in crowds after her heavenly little eyes!" + +The bandit allowed himself to be drawn by his Southern enthusiasm into +the greatest frankness, seeking new expressions of praise for the lady. + +She turned pale, her eyes grew large with happy terror, and she began to +find the bandit interesting. Could he have come to the plantation solely +on her account? Did he intend to kidnap her and carry her away to his +hiding-place in the mountains with the hungry rapacity of a bird of prey +who returns from the plain to his nest on the heights? + +The bull-fighter also grew alarmed on hearing these expressions of rude +admiration. Damn it! In his own house and in his very face! If this kept +up he was going upstairs after his gun, and even though this were +Plumitas, they should see who would have her! + +The bandit suddenly seemed to understand the annoyance his words caused +and he adopted a respectful attitude. + +"Pardon, Senora Marquesa. It is only banter. I have a wife and four +children. The poor girl weeps more on my account than ever wept the +Virgin of Agonies. I am a peaceful Moor; an unfortunate fellow that is +what he is because an evil shadow follows him." + +And as though he took pains to be agreeable to Dona Sol, he broke out +into enthusiastic praises of her family. The Marquis of Moraima was one +of the men he most respected in all the world. + +"If all the rich were like that! My father worked for him, and told us +about his charity. I had the fever in a herder's hut in a pasture of +his. He knew it but he said nothing. At his farmhouses he leaves an +order for them to give me what I ask and to leave me in peace. Such +things are never forgotten. When I least expect it I meet him alone, +mounted on his horse like a young fellow, as if he did not feel the +passing of the years. 'God be with you, Senor Marques.' 'Greeting, boy.' +He does not guess who I am because I carry my companion"--and he +motioned to his carbine--"under my blanket. I long to stop him and ask +his hand, not to clasp it, no, not that; how could such a good man clasp +hands with me, who have so many killed and maimed to my account? No, to +kiss it, as though he were my father, to kneel before him and give him +thanks for what he does for me." + +The earnestness with which he spoke of his gratitude did not move Dona +Sol. So that was the famous Plumitas! A poor man; a mild rabbit of the +plains whom all thought a wolf, deceived by his fame. + +"There are also bad rich men," continued the bandit. "How some of them +make the poor suffer! Near my town there is one that lends money and is +meaner than Judas. I sent him word not to grind the poor so, and the +vile thief, instead of paying attention to me, told the civil guard to +catch me. Well, I burned a barnful of straw for him and I did other +little things to him and it has been over half a year since he has dared +go to Seville, or even out of the town for fear of meeting Plumitas. +Another one was going to turn out a poor little old woman because for a +year she hadn't paid the rent of the miserable hut she had held ever +since her father's time. I went to see the _senor_, just at nightfall, +when he was going to sit down to supper with his family. 'My master, I +am Plumitas, and I need a hundred _duros_.' He gave them to me and I +went to the old woman with them. 'Grandmother, take this; pay that Jew; +what is left over is for you and may it serve your good health.'" + +Dona Sol contemplated the bandit with more interest. + +"And killed?" she asked. "How many have you killed?" + +"Senora, let us not speak of that," said the bandit gravely. "You would +feel repugnance for me and I am only a poor, unfortunate, persecuted +fellow who must defend himself as he can." + +A long silence fell. + +"You know not how I live, Senora Marquesa," he continued. "The wild +beasts fare better than I. I sleep where I can, or I do not sleep at +all. I get up in one end of the province to lie down in the other. One +must keep his eye well open and his hand firm so they will respect and +not betray one. The poor are good, but poverty is an ugly thing and +turns the best bad. If they hadn't been afraid of me they would have +handed me over to the guards many times. I have no true friends but my +mare and this"--holding up his carbine. "Suddenly I feel a longing to +see my wife and babies, and I enter my town at night while all the +people who recognize me open their eyes wide. But some day it will end +wrong. There are days when I get tired of being by myself and I need to +see people. Long have I wanted to come to La Rincona'. Why should I not +see at close range the Senor Juan Gallardo, I who appreciate him and +have often applauded him? But I always saw you with many friends, or +else your wife and your mother and the children were here. I understand +that; they would have been scared to death at the mere sight of +Plumitas. Now it is different. This time you came with the Senora +Marquesa, and I said to myself: 'Let's go and greet those fine people +and chat with them a while.'" + +The peculiar smile that accompanied these words seemed to recognize a +difference between the bull-fighter's family and the lady, and made it +clear that Gallardo's relations with Dona Sol were no secret to him. +Respect for the legitimacy of matrimony dwelt in the soul of this poor +countryman, and he felt that he was authorized in taking greater +liberties with the bull-fighter's aristocratic friend than with the poor +women who composed his family. + +Dona Sol paid no attention to these words and besieged the highwayman +with questions, wishing to know how he had come to his present state. + +"Nothing, Senora Marquesa; an injustice; one of those misfortunes that +fall on us poor people. I was one of the cleverest in my town and the +workmen always chose me as spokesman when there was anything to be asked +of the rich. I know how to read and write. As a boy I was a sacristan +and they gave me the nickname of Plumitas because I was always after the +chickens to pull out their feathers for my writings." + +A rough caress from Potaje's strong hand interrupted him. + +"_Compadre_, the minute I saw thee I guessed that thou wert a church rat +or something like that." + +Nacional held his peace, respecting these confidences, but he smiled +slightly. A sacristan converted into a bandit! What things Don Joselito +would say when he told him that! + +"I married my wife and we had our first baby. One night a couple of +guards came to the house and took me outside the town to the +threshing-floor. Some shots had been fired into a rich man's door, and +those good gentlemen were determined that it was I who did it. I denied +it and they beat me with their guns. I denied it again and they beat me +more. To abbreviate, they kept me till daybreak, beating me all over, +sometimes with the barrel, sometimes with the butt-end, until they were +worn out and I lay on the ground senseless. They had me tied hand and +foot, and beat me as if I were a bale of goods. And all the while they +kept saying to me, 'Art thou not the bravest man in the town? Come on, +defend thyself; let's see how far thy brags can carry thee.' This was +what hurt most, their jibes. My poor little wife cured me as best she +could, but I never rested, I could not endure the remembrance of those +blows and jibes. To abbreviate again, one day one of the guards was +found dead on that same threshing-floor and I, to avoid trouble, took to +the mountains--and I have lived there to this day." + +"Boy, thou hast a good hand," said Potaje with admiration. "And the +other?" + +"I don't know; he must be somewhere in the world. He left the town; he +asked for transfer in spite of his bravery, but I don't forget him. I +have a message for him. I get sudden news that he is on the other side +of Spain and I go there; I would follow him even into the very Hell +itself. I leave the mare and the carbine with some friend to keep for +me, and I take the train like a gentleman. I have been in Barcelona, in +Valladolid, in many cities. I take my place near the jail and I look +over the guards that go and come. 'This is not my man, nor this either.' +They have given me wrong information, but it doesn't matter. It is years +since I began looking for him, but I shall find him--unless he is dead, +which would be a pity." + +Dona Sol followed this tale with interest. An original creature was this +Plumitas! She had made a mistake in thinking him a rabbit. The bandit +became silent, knitting his brows as if he feared he had said too much, +and meant to avoid a new outburst of confidence. + +"With your permission," he said to the swordsman, "I'll go to the stable +and see how the mare has been treated. Wilt thou come along, comrade? +Thou shalt see something worth while." + +Potaje, accepting the invitation, went out of the kitchen with him. + +When the two were left alone, the bull-fighter and the lady, he showed +his ill-humor. Why had she come down? It was foolhardy to present +herself before a man like that; a bandit whose name was the terror of +the people. + +But Dona Sol, pleased with the excellent success of her encounter, +laughed at the bull-fighter's fears. The bandit seemed to her a decent +man, a poor fellow whose mischievousness was exaggerated by popular +fancy. He was almost a servant in her family. + +"I imagined him different, but anyway I am glad I have seen him. We will +give him an alms when he goes. What an original land this is! What +types! And how interesting his pursuit of that civil guard all over +Spain! What a thrilling article one could write about that!" + +The women of the ranch lifted off the flames of the fireplace two great +frying-pans that shed an agreeable odor of sausage. + +"Come to breakfast, gentlemen," shouted Nacional, who assumed the +functions of _mayordomo_ at his master's farmhouse. + +In the centre of the kitchen stood a great table covered with a cloth, +on which were placed round loaves of bread and numerous bottles of wine. +Plumitas and Potaje and several farm hands answered the call, the +overseer, the farmer, and all those who filled places of greater trust. +They began seating themselves on two benches placed along the length of +the table, while Gallardo glanced undecided at Dona Sol. She ought to +eat upstairs in the rooms set apart for the family. But the lady, +smiling at this suggestion, seated herself at the head of the table. She +enjoyed rustic life and thought it interesting to eat with these people. +She was born to be a soldier. And with a manly air she invited the +_matador_ to be seated, dilating her nostrils with a voluptuous +enjoyment of the savory odor of the sausages. A very rich dish! How +hungry she was! + +"This is right," sententiously remarked Plumitas, looking over the +table; "the masters and servants eating together, as they say was the +custom in olden times. I have never seen it before." And he seated +himself near the _picador_, without letting go of his carbine, which he +held between his knees. + +"Move over, _guason_," he said, shoving Potaje with his body. + +The _picador_, who treated him with rude _camaraderie_, answered with +another shove and the two strong fellows laughed as they pushed back and +forth, amusing every one at the table by their horse-play. + +"But, damn it!" said the _picador_. "Get that blunder-bus out from +between thy knees. Dost thou not see that it is aiming straight at me? +An accident may happen." + +The bandit's carbine, resting between his knees, was pointing its black +muzzle at the _picador_. + +"Hang that up, _malaje!_" he insisted. "Dost thou need it to eat with?" + +"It's all right where it is. Never fear," answered the bandit shortly, +frowning as if he did not like to hear any comments upon his +precautions. + +He grasped his spoon, scooped up a great piece of bread, and impelled by +rural courtesy, glanced at the others to make sure that the moment for +eating had arrived. + +"Good health, gentlemen!" + +He attacked the enormous dish that had been placed in the centre of the +table for him and the two bull-fighters. Another like it steamed farther +down for the farm hands. Suddenly he seemed ashamed of his voracity, and +after a few spoonfuls he stopped, thinking an explanation necessary. + +"Since yesterday morning I have tasted nothing but a crumb and a little +milk they gave me in a herder's hut. A good appetite!" + +He attacked the plate again, winking his eyes and working his jaws +steadily. The _picador_ invited him to drink. Intimidated in the +master's presence, he gazed wistfully at the bottles of wine placed +within reach of his hand. + +"Drink, Plumitas. Dry grazing is bad. It should be moistened." + +Before the bandit accepted his invitation the _picador_ drank, and drank +deeply. Plumitas only occasionally touched his glass after much +vacillation. He was afraid of wine; he had lost the habit of drinking +it. He did not always get it on the plains. Besides, wine was the worst +enemy of a man like him, who must live wide awake and on guard. + +"But here thou art among friends," said the _picador_. "Consider, +Plumitas, that thou art in Seville, beneath the very mantle of the +Virgin of Macarena. There is no one to touch thee. And if by chance the +civil guards should come, I would put myself at thy side, I would grasp +a spear, and we wouldn't leave one of those lazy devils alive. A little +more and I would be willing to become a free-lance of the mountains! +That has always attracted me." + +"Potaje!" admonished the _maestro_ from the end of the table, fearing +the loquacity of the _picador_ and his proximity to the bottles. + +The bandit, in spite of drinking little, was red in the face and his +eyes shone with a happy light. He had chosen his place facing the +kitchen door, from which the entrance to the plantation could be seen, +showing a portion of the solitary road. From time to time, a cow, a hog, +a goat, passed along this belt of land, and the shadow of their bodies, +outlined by the sun on the yellow ground, was enough to make Plumitas +jump, ready to drop his spoon and grasp his rifle. He talked with his +companions at the table, but without withdrawing his attention from what +might be outside the door. It was his habit to live at all hours ready +for resistance or for flight, making it a point of honor never to be +taken by surprise. + +After he had done eating he accepted one more glass from Potaje, his +last, and he sat with a hand beneath his jaw, gazing out of the door, +dulled and silent by his heavy meal. His was the digestion of a boa, or +a stomach accustomed to irregular nourishment by his prodigious +gorgings, and to long periods of fast. Gallardo offered him an Havana. + +"Thanks, Senor Juan. I don't smoke, but I will save it for a companion +of mine who is in the mountains, and the poor boy will value something +to smoke more than a meal itself. He is a young fellow who has had bad +luck and he helps me when there is work for two." + +He put the cigar in his blouse, and the recollection of this companion, +who at this very hour wandered in safety far away, caused him to smile +with a ferocious joy. The wine had animated Plumitas. His countenance +was changed. His eyes had metallic gleams of shifting light. His puffy +face contracted with a grin that seemed to dispel his habitual kindly +aspect. He evinced a desire to talk, to boast of his deeds, to pay for +the hospitality by astonishing his benefactors. + +"You must have heard about what I did last month on the Fregenal +highway. Have you really heard nothing about that? I planted myself in +the road with my young companion--for we had to stop a diligence and +give a message to a rich man, who has had me on his mind for a while. A +domineering fellow was this man, accustomed to ordering _alcaldes_, +important persons, and even civil guards at his will--what they call in +the papers a _cacique_. I sent him a message asking him for a hundred +_duros_ for a pressing need and what he did was to write to the +governor of Seville, raise a row up there in Madrid, and make them chase +me worse than ever. It was his fault that I had a gun-fight with the +civil guards, and I came out of it shot in the leg; and still not +satisfied, he asked them to imprison my wife, as if the poor thing could +know where her husband was plundering. That Judas dared not stir out of +his town for fear of Plumitas; but about then I disappeared. I went on a +trip, one of those trips I've told you about, and my man took courage +and went to Seville one day on business and to set the authorities +against me." + +"We lay in ambush for the coach on its return trip from Seville. My +young companion, who has hands of gold for stopping anything on the +road, ordered the driver to halt. I stuck my head and my carbine in at +the door. Screams of women, cries of children, men who said nothing but +seemed made of wax! I said to the travellers: 'Nothing is going to +happen to you. Calm yourselves, ladies; greeting, gentlemen, and a good +journey. But come, let that fat man step out.' And my man, cringing as +if he were going to hide under the women's skirts, got down, as white as +if his blood had left him, and lisping as if he were drunk. The coach +drove on and we stood in the middle of the road alone. 'Listen; I am +Plumitas, and I am going to give thee something that thou shalt not +forget.' And I gave it to him. But I didn't kill him right off. I hit +him in a place I know, so that he would live twenty-four hours, and so +that when the guards gathered him up he could say it was Plumitas that +had killed him. Thus there could be no mistake nor could others air +themselves with importance." + +Dona Sol listened, intensely pale, her lips compressed in terror, and in +her eyes the strange glitter that accompanied her mysterious thoughts. +Gallardo made a wry face, disturbed at this ferocious tale. + +"Every one knows his trade, Senor Juan," said Plumitas, as if he divined +his thoughts. "We both live by killing; you kill bulls, and I people. +Only you are rich and get the applause and the fine women, while I often +go hungry and if I don't take care I will end riddled like a sieve in +the open plains for the crows to eat. But you don't beat me in knowing +your trade, Senor Juan! You know where to strike the bull so he will +fall at once. I know where to hit a Christian so that he will fall +doubled up and last a while, or else spend a few weeks remembering +Plumitas, who wishes not to mix with anybody, but who knows how to +settle with those who meddle with him." + +Again Dona Sol felt curiosity to know the number of his crimes. + +"And killed? How many people have you killed?" + +"You will take a dislike to me, Senora Marquesa; but since you +persist.... Understand that I cannot recollect them all, no matter how +much I want to remember. They probably amount to thirty or thirty-five; +I don't know for sure. In this wandering life, who thinks of keeping +accounts? But I am a luckless fellow, Senora Marquesa; an unfortunate +fellow. The fault belongs to them that made me bad. That matter of +killing is like eating cherries. You pull one and the others come after, +by dozens. One must kill to go on living and if one feels pity he is +eaten for his pains." + +There was a long silence. The lady contemplated the bandit's short +thick hands with his uneven finger nails. But Plumitas was not looking +at the Senora Marquesa. All his attention was given to the _matador_ in +his desire to show him gratitude for having received him at his table +and to dispel the bad effect his words seemed to have upon him. + +"I respect you, Senor Juan," he said. "The first time I saw you fight +bulls, I said to myself, 'That's a brave fellow.' You have many devotees +who admire you, but not the way I do! Believe me, that to see you, I +have many times disguised myself, and gone into the towns where you were +fighting the bulls with the risk of being captured. Is that devotion?" + +Gallardo smiled with an affirmative nodding of his head, flattered now +in his artistic pride. + +"Besides," continued the bandit, "nobody can say I came to La Rincona' +to ask even a piece of bread. Many times I have gone hungry or have +lacked five _duros_, riding around near here, and never till to-day has +it occurred to me to pass through the wire fence of the plantation. +'Senor Juan is sacred to me,' I said to myself always. 'He earns his +money the same as I do, exposing his life. Comradeship must be +respected.' For you will not deny, Senor Juan, that although you are a +great personage, and I one of the most unfortunate of men, we are alike, +we both live by playing with death. We are quietly eating here, but some +day, if God tires of us and deserts us, they'll gather me up from the +roadside like a mad dog shot to pieces, and you with all your capital +will be carried out of a ring foot foremost; and although the papers may +talk of your misfortune four weeks or so, damned little you will thank +them over there in the other world." + +"It is true--it is true," said Gallardo, with sudden pallor at the +bandit's words. + +The superstitious fear he felt when moments of danger drew near was +reflected in his countenance. His destiny seemed similar to that of this +terrible vagabond who must necessarily fall some day or other in his +unequal struggle. + +"But do you believe I think of death?" continued Plumitas. "I repent of +nothing and I go on my way. I also have my desires and my little pride, +the same as you, when you read in the papers that you did good work on +such a bull and that they gave you the ear. Remember that they talk of +Plumitas all over Spain, that the newspapers tell the greatest lies +about me, and, according to what they say, they are going to bring me +out in the theatres. Even in Madrid, in that palace where the deputies +meet to hold parley, they talk of me nearly every week. + +"On top of all this, the pride of having an army following my steps, of +being able, a lone man, to stir the wrath of thousands who live off of +the government and wield a sword! The other day, on Sunday, I entered a +town at mass time and I stopped my mare in the square near some blind +men who were playing the guitar and singing. The people were staring at +a picture the singers had, representing a fine fellow with a +three-cornered hat, whiskers, dressed in the finest style, mounted on a +magnificent horse, with his blunderbuss on the horn of his saddle and a +plump lass on the crupper. I stopped when I saw that the fine fellow in +the picture was Plumitas! That gives pleasure. When one is condemned +like Adam to work or starve, it is well to have the people imagine his +existence different. I bought the paper from the blind singers and I +carry it here; the complete life of Plumitas, with many lies, but all +set to verse. A fine thing! When I lie down on the mountain I read it to +learn it by heart. Some _senor_ who knows much must have written it." + +The dreaded Plumitas showed an infantile pride as he talked of his +glory. The silent modesty with which he entered the plantation was gone; +the desire that they should forget his fame and look upon him as nothing +but a poor traveller pressed by hunger had vanished. He glowed when he +remembered that his name was famous and that his deeds received the +honors of publicity. + +"Who would have known me," he went on, "if I had kept on living in my +village? I have thought much about that. We downtrodden fellows have no +other recourse than to toil for others, or to follow the only career +that gives money and name--killing! I was no good at killing bulls. My +village is in the mountains and has no fierce cattle. Besides, I am +heavy and unskilled. So I kill people. It is the best thing a poor man +can do to be respected and make his way." + +Nacional, who had listened to the bandit's words with silent gravity, +thought it necessary to intervene. + +"What the poor man needs is education: to know how to read and write." + +Nacional's words provoked the laughter of all who knew his hobby. + +"There thou hast let loose one of thy ideas, comrade," said Potaje. "Let +Plumitas go on explaining himself, for what he says is very good." + +The bandit received the _banderillero's_ interruption with scorn; he had +little respect for him on account of his timidity in the ring. + +"I know how to read and write. And of what use is that? When I lived in +the village it only brought me into notice and made my fate seem harder. +What the poor man needs is justice; let them give him what belongs to +him and if they won't give it to him, let him take it. One must be a +wolf and cause terror. The other wolves will then respect him, and the +cattle even let him eat gratefully. If they find thee a coward and +without strength, even the sheep will despise thee." + +Potaje, who was now drunk, assented with enthusiasm to all Plumitas +said. He did not understand his words well, but through the dark mist of +his intoxication he thought he could distinguish a glow of supreme +wisdom. + +"That's right, comrade. A club to all the world. Go on, for thou art +very clever." + +"I know people," continued the bandit. "The world is divided into two +families, the shearers and the shorn. I don't want to be shorn; I was +born to shear, because I am very brave and am afraid of nobody. The same +thing has happened to you, Senor Juan. By being of good kidney you have +lifted yourself up from the common herd, but your way is better than +mine." + +He sat contemplating the _maestro_ a while and then added with an accent +of conviction: "I think, Senor Juan, that we have come into the world +rather late. What deeds of valor and glory young fellows like ourselves +would have done in other times! You would not kill bulls and I would not +roam over the plains hunted like a wild beast. We would be viceroys, +grand moguls! Some great thing across the seas! You have not heard of +one Pizarro, Senor Juan?" + +Senor Juan made an ambiguous gesture, not wishing to reveal his +ignorance of this mysterious name which he heard for the first time. + +"The Senora Marquesa knows who he is better than I and she will pardon +me if I say wild things. I learned that history when I was a sacristan +and turned myself loose on old romances belonging to the priest. Well, +Pizarro was a poor fellow like us, who crossed the sea with twelve or +thirteen youths as ragged as himself, and entered a country finer than +Paradise--a kingdom where lies Potosi--I need say no more. They had I +don't know how many battles with the natives of the Americas who wear +feathers and carry bows and arrows, and finally they became their +masters, appropriated the treasures of the kings of the country, and the +least of them filled his house to the roof all with gold coins, and +there wasn't one that wasn't made a marquis, a general, or a personage +of power. Many others are like them. Imagine, Senor Juan, if we had only +lived then! What would it have cost us for you and me and some of these +stout fellows who are listening to me to do as much or more than that +Pizarro?" + +And the men of the plantation, ever silent, but with eyes glowing with +emotion at this marvellous history, assented to the bandit's theories, +nodding their heads. + +"I repeat that we are born too late, Senor Juan. Great careers are +closed to the poor. The Spaniard knows not what to do. There is no +longer any place left for him to go. What there used to be in the world +to be divided up, now the English and other foreigners have +appropriated. The door is closed and we brave men have to rot inside +this barn-yard listening to hard words because we don't surrender +ourselves to our fate. I, who like enough would have become a king in +the Americas, or some other place, go along the roads branded as an +outcast, and they even call me a thief! You, who are a valiant man, kill +bulls and get applause, but I know that many gentlemen look upon +bull-fighting as a low-down trade." + +Dona Sol intervened to give the highwayman counsel. Why did he not +become a soldier? He could go to distant lands where there were wars and +utilize his powers nobly. + +"Yes, I would be good for that, Senora Marquesa. I have often thought of +it. When I sleep at some plantation or hide myself in my house a few +days, the first time I get into bed like a Christian and eat a hot meal +on a table like this, my body is grateful for it, but I soon tire, and +it seems to me the mountain calls me with all its poverty, and I long to +sleep in the open wrapped in my blanket with a stone for a pillow. Yes; +I would make a good soldier. But where could I go? There are no longer +any real wars, where each one with a handful of comrades does whatever +seems wisest to him. To-day there are only herds of men all wearing the +same color and the same brand, who live and die like clowns. The same +thing happens as in the world: shearers and shorn. You do a great deed +and the colonel appropriates it; you fight a wild beast and they give +the reward to the general. No, I was also born too late to be a +soldier." + +Plumitas lowered his eyes, remaining a long time as if absorbed in +inward contemplation of his misfortune, realizing that he had no place +in the present epoch. + +Suddenly he grasped his carbine, about to rise. + +"I must go--many thanks, Senor Juan, for your attentions. Farewell, +Senora Marquesa." + +"But where art thou going?" said Potaje pulling him back. "Sit down, +_malaje_. In no place art thou better off than here." + +The _picador_ desired to prolong the highwayman's stay, pleased to be +able to talk with him as with a life-long friend, to be able to tell +afterward in the city about his interesting adventure. + +"I have spent three hours here and I must go. I never stay so long in an +open, level place like La Rincona'. It may be that some one has already +gone with a whisper that I am here." + +"Art thou afraid of the guards?" asked Potaje. "They won't come, and if +they do, I am with thee." + +Plumitas made a deprecatory gesture. The guards! They were men like +others; there might be brave ones, but they were all fathers of families +who tried not to see him, and when they heard he was at a certain place, +they came too late. They only went against him when chance threw them +face to face, without means of evasion. + +"Last month I was at the Five Chimneys plantation breakfasting as I am +here, though not in such good company, when I saw six guards coming +afoot. I am sure that they did not know I was there, and that they came +only for refreshment. Bad luck, but neither they nor I could fly in +plain sight of all the people on the plantation. That would cause talk, +and evil tongues make one lose respect, and they will say we are all +cowards. The owner of the hacienda shut the gate, and the guards began +to beat on it with their muskets to make him open up. I ordered him and +a herder to stand behind the doors. 'When I say _now_, open wide.' I +mounted the mare and held my revolver in my hand. '_Now_!' The gate +opened and I rode off flinging demons! You don't know what my poor +little mare can do. They sent I know not how many shots after me, but +nothing! I, too, let loose as I rode away, and according to what they +say, I hit two guards. To abbreviate: I went leaning along my mare's +neck so they couldn't hit me and the guards took their revenge by giving +the men of the hacienda a beating. That's why it is better to say +nothing about my visits, Senor Juan. Along will come those fellows with +their cocked hats and they'll make you dizzy with questions and +declarations, as though they were going to catch me with that." + +The men of La Rinconada assented dumbly. They already knew it. They must +keep quiet about the visit to avoid trouble, as was done in all the +plantations and herders' ranches. This general silence was the bandit's +most powerful aid. Moreover, all these countrymen were Plumitas' +admirers. In their rude enthusiasm they looked upon him as an avenging +hero. They had nothing to fear from him. His threats only weighed +against the rich. + +"I am not afraid of the guards," continued the bandit. "It's the poor I +fear. They are all good, but what an ugly thing is poverty! I know those +of the cocked hats will not kill me; they have no balls for me. If +anybody kills me, it will be some poor fellow. One lets them come near +without fear, because they are one's own kind, and then they take +advantage of one's carelessness. I have enemies; people sworn against +me. Sometimes there are rascals who carry the whisper in the hope of a +few _pesetas_, or renegades who are sent to do a thing and don't do it, +and one must keep a firm hand to have the respect of all. If one +really harms them the family is left to avenge him. If one is good and +contents himself with giving them a caress with a handful of nettles and +thistles, they remember that joke all their lives--the poor, my own +kind, are those I fear." + +[Illustration: "For me?" asked the bandit in tones of surprise and +wonder. "For me, Senora Marquesa?"] + +Plumitas stopped, and gazing at Gallardo added: + +"Besides, there are the admirers, the pupils, the young fellows that +come chasing along behind. Senor Juan, tell the truth, which tire you +more, the bulls, or all those hungry young bull-fighters who are always +wanting favors of the _maestro_? The same thing happens to me. Didn't I +tell you that we are equals! In every town there's some fine young +fellow who dreams of being my heir and hopes to catch me some day +sleeping in the shade of a tree and-blow my head off. A fine +advertisement it will be for him who catches Plumitas!" + +After this he got up and went to the stable followed by Potaje, and a +quarter of an hour afterward he led out into the courtyard his strong +mare, the inseparable companion of his wanderings. The big-boned animal +seemed larger and handsomer after the brief hours of feasting in the +mangers at La Rinconada. Plumitas stopped arranging his blanket over the +horn to caress her flanks. She might indeed be content. Seldom would she +be so well treated as at this hacienda of Senor Juan Gallardo. Now she +must behave, for the journey would be long. + +"And where art thou going, comrade?" said Potaje. + +"You shouldn't ask that. Abroad through the land! I myself know not. To +meet whatever comes along." + +And putting the toe of his boot in one of the blackened and +mud-bespattered stirrups, he gave a spring and rose into the saddle. +Gallardo moved away from Dona Sol, who contemplated the bandit's +preparation for his journey with her mysterious eyes, her lips pale and +compressed by emotion. The bull-fighter searched in the inside of his +jacket and walked toward the rider offering him without ostentation some +papers crushed in his hand. + +"What is that?" said the bandit. "Money? Thanks, Senor Juan. You have +heard that it is best to give me something when I leave an hacienda, but +that is for others, for the rich who earn their money in flowery ease. +You earn it by exposing your life. We are companions. Keep it, Senor +Juan." + +Senor Juan put the bills back, somewhat annoyed by the bandit's refusal +and by his determination to treat him as a comrade. + +"You may tender me a bull if we ever meet in the ring," added Plumitas. +"That is worth more than all the gold in the world." + +Dona Sol advanced till she stood close to one of the horseman's legs, +and unfastening an autumn rose she wore on her breast she offered it +silently, gazing at him with her gold-green eyes. + +"For me?" asked the bandit in tones of surprise and wonder. "For me, +Senora Marquesa?" + +Seeing the lady's nod of affirmation he accepted the flower with +embarrassment, handling it stupidly as if it were of astonishing weight, +not knowing where to put it, till at last he thrust it into a buttonhole +of his blouse, between the two ends of the red handkerchief he wore +around his neck. + +"This surely is good!" he exclaimed, his round face broadening into a +smile. "Nothing to equal this ever happened to me before in all my +life." + +The rough horseman seemed touched and disturbed at the same time by the +feminine character of the gift. Roses for him--! + +He pulled at his mare's reins. + +"Health to all, gentlemen! Until we meet again! Health, brave fellow! +Sometime I'll throw thee a cigar if thou dost stick thy lance in well." + +He bade the _picador_ farewell, giving him a blow with his hand, and the +centaur answered him with a slap on the thigh that made the bandit's +vigorous muscles tremble. What a fine fellow, that Plumitas! Potaje, in +his mellow state of intoxication, wished to take to the mountains in +company with him. + +"_Adios_! _Adios_!" + +And setting spurs to his steed he rode away from the hacienda at a swift +trot. + +Gallardo manifested satisfaction on seeing him go. Then he looked at +Dona Sol, who stood motionless, following the horseman with her eyes as +he vanished in the distance. + +"What a woman!" murmured the swordsman with dismay. "What a mad lady!" + +It was good luck that Plumitas was ugly, and went ragged and dirty like +a vagabond. If not, verily she would have gone with him. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +A LOOK INTO THE FACE OF DEATH + + +"It seems a lie, Sebastian. A man like thee, with a wife and children, +lending thyself to such wickedness. And I thought better of thee and had +confidence in thee when thou wert travelling with Juaniyo! I worried not +because he went with a person of character. Where are all those fine +things, the honorable ideas and thy religion? Is this what is commanded +in those Jew meetings that gather at the house of Don Joselito, the +teacher?" + +Nacional, alarmed at the indignation of Gallardo's mother, and moved by +Carmen's tears as she wept in silence, her face hidden in her kerchief, +defended himself stupidly. But as he heard the last words he sat erect +with priestly gravity. + +"Sena' Angustia', touch not my ideas and leave Don Joselito in peace, an +it please you, for he has nothing to do with all this. By the life of +the blue dove! I went to La Rincona' because my _matador_ ordered me. Do +you know what a _cuadrilla_ is? Just the same as an army: discipline and +servility! The _matador_ commands and one must obey. For these +bull-fight customs descend from the times of the Inquisition and there +is no more conservative trade." + +"Clown!" screamed Senora Angustias. "Fine thou art with all thy fables +about the Inquisition and Conservatives! Among you all you are killing +that poor girl, who spends the whole day shedding tears like the +Dolorosa. What thou art anxious about is to cover up my son's +rascalities because he feeds thee." + +"You have said it, Sena' Angustia'. Juaniyo feeds me, that's it. And +since he feeds me, I have to obey him. But look here, Senora; put +yourself in my place. My _matador_ tells me I must go to La Rincona'. +Good! And at the hour of leaving I find myself in the automobile with a +very fine great lady. What can I do? My _matador_ commands. Moreover, I +didn't go alone. Potaje went along and he is a person of years and +respect." + +The bull-fighter's mother was more indignant at this excuse. + +"Potaje! A bad man, that Juaniyo would not keep in his _cuadrilla_ if he +had any pride! Don't talk to me about that drunkard that beats his wife +and keeps his children starving." + +"Well, Potaje aside. I say I saw that great lady and what was I to do? +She was not a wanton; she is the niece of the marquis who is patron of +the _maestro_--and you well know that bull-fighters have to be on good +terms with people of power. They have to live off the public. Then, at +the hacienda, nothing! I swear it to you by my own dear ones--nothing! I +would be a fine fellow to stand such bad business, even though my +_matador_ ordered me to! I am a decent man, Sena' Angustia'. By the life +of the dove! When one is on the committee and is consulted on +election-day, and counsellors and deputies clasp this hand you see here, +can one do certain things? I repeat, nothing! They said _you_ in talking +to one another, the same as you and I do; each one spent the night in +his proper place; not a wicked look, not an ugly word. Decency at all +hours. And if you would like to have Potaje come, he will tell you--" + +But Carmen interrupted him with a plaintive voice, broken by sighs. + +"In my house!" she groaned with an expression of agony. "At the +hacienda! And she slept in my bed! I knew all about it before and I kept +still, I kept still! But this! _Josu_! This--there's not another man in +all Seville would dare do as much!" + +Nacional intervened kindly. + +"Be calm, Senora Carmen. Why, that was of no importance! Merely the +visit of a female admirer of the _maestro's_ to the plantation, one who +desired to see at close range how he lived in the country. These half +foreign ladies are always capricious and queer. You ought to have seen +the French women when the _cuadrilla_ went to fight at Nimes and Arles! +The whole thing is nothing! the whole thing, _liquid_! Man alive! by the +blue dove! I would like to see the tattler that brought such news!" + +Carmen continued weeping without listening to the _banderillero's_ +indignant protestations, while Sena' Angustias, seated in an arm-chair +against which her super-abundant obesity rose and fell, frowned and +compressed her hairy, wrinkled lips. + +"Shut up, Sebastian, and don't lie," said the old woman. "I know it all. +That trip to the hacienda was an indecent carousal, a gypsy's revel. +They even say you had Plumitas, the robber, with you." + +Here Nacional gave a start of surprise and anxiety. He imagined he saw +an ill-appearing horseman with a greasy hat entering the courtyard, +treading the marble flags and, dismounting from his mare, pointing a +carbine at him for being a babbler and a coward. Then he seemed to see +cocked hats, many cocked hats of shining rubber, moustached mouths +questioning, hands scribbling, and the whole _cuadrilla_, in their +spangled costumes, bound elbow to elbow on the road to prison. Here +truly he must make energetic denial. + +"_Liquid!_ All _liquid!_ What say you about Plumitas? Everything was +decent there. Man alive! Nothing was lacking but that a citizen like +myself, who carries to the voting boxes more than a hundred votes from +my ward, should be accused of being a friend of Plumitas!" + +Senora Angustias, overcome by Nacional's protests, and a little +uncertain about this last report, ceased insisting on it. Good; nothing +about Plumitas! But the other thing! The trip to the hacienda with +that--woman! And firm in the blindness of motherhood, which would put +all the responsibility for her son's misdeeds upon his companions, she +went on scolding Nacional. + +"I shall tell thy wife what thou art. The poor thing killing herself in +her shop from daybreak till nightfall, and thou going off on revels like +a lad. Thou shouldst be ashamed. At thy years! With such a troop of +children--" + +The _banderillero_ departed, fleeing from Senora Angustias, who in the +storm of her indignation displayed the same nimble tongue as in the days +when she worked in the Tobacco Factory. He resolved not to return to his +master's house. + +He met Gallardo on the street. The latter seemed ill-humored, but on +seeing his _banderillero_ he feigned smiles and animation, as if the +domestic troubles made no impression upon him. + +"Things are going bad, Juaniyo. I shall never go to thy house again, +even though they try to drag me there. Thy mother insults me as though I +were a gypsy of Triana. Thy wife weeps and looks at me, as though it was +all my fault. Man, do me the favor to not remember me again. Take +another associate when thou goest with women." + +Gallardo smiled amiably. That was nothing. That would soon pass. He had +faced worse trials. + +"What thou must do is to keep on coming. With many people there is no +riot." + +"I?" exclaimed Nacional. "To a priest's house first!" + +The _matador_ knew it was useless to insist after that. He spent most of +the day out of the house, away from the women's silent and tearful +reproaches, and when he returned it was with an escort, shielding +himself by his manager and other friends. + +One day Carmen sent for the _banderillero_ to come to see her. She +received Nacional in her husband's office, where they could be alone, +instead of in the busy courtyard or the dining-room. Gallardo was at his +club on Sierpes Street. He fled from the house, and to avoid meeting his +wife, he dined outside many days, going with companions to the Eritana +inn. + +Nacional seated himself on a divan, his head bowed and his hat in his +hands, not wishing to look at his master's wife. How she had failed! Her +eyes were red and encircled by deep, dark hollows. Her cheeks were +sallow and the end of her nose shone with a rosy color that told of much +rubbing with the handkerchief. + +"Sebastian, you must tell me the whole truth. You are good, you are +Juan's best friend. Never mind what _Mamita_ said the other day. You +know how good she is. She speaks her mind hastily, and then it is all +over." + +The _banderillero_ assented with a nod while awaiting her question. What +did the Senora Carmen wish to know? + +"Tell me what happened at La Rincona', what you saw, and what you +think." + +Ah! good Nacional! With what noble pride he held his head high, happy to +be able to do good and to comfort the forlorn soul. See? He had seen +nothing wrong! + +"I swear it by my father, I swear it--by my ideas." + +And without fear he took his oath on the most holy testimony of his +ideas, for in reality he had seen nothing and not seeing it, he +logically thought, in the pride of his perspicacity and wisdom, that +nothing wrong could have happened. + +"I think they are no more than friends--now--if there has been anything +between them before--I don't know. The people say--they talk--they +invent so many lies! Pay no attention, Sena' Carmen. To be happy and to +be alive, that is reality!" + +She insisted again. But what had happened at the hacienda? The hacienda +was her home, and it angered her to see, in addition to infidelity, +something that seemed a sacrilege, a direct insult to her person. + +"Do you think I am a fool, Sebastian? I have seen everything since he +first began to notice that lady, or whatever she may be; I even knew +Juan's thoughts. The day he dedicated a bull to her and brought home +that diamond ring I guessed what was between the two and I felt like +grabbing the ring and stamping on it. From that time I have known +everything, everything! There are always people who take it upon +themselves to carry tales because they can hurt one. And besides, they +haven't been cautious, they have gone everywhere together, just like +gypsies that travel from fair to fair. When I was at the plantation I +heard about all that Juan was doing and afterward at Sanlucar, too." + +Nacional thought it necessary to interrupt, seeing that Carmen was moved +by these memories and was beginning to cry. + +"And do you believe lies, child? Don't you see they are the inventions +of people that want to hurt him? Envy, nothing more." + +"No; I know Juan. Do you think this is the first one? He is what he is. +And he can't be different. Cursed trade, that seems to turn men mad! +After we had been married only two years he had a love affair with a +girl from the market, a butcher girl. What I suffered when I found it +out! But I never said a word. He still thinks I don't know it. After +that, how many he has had! Girls that dance on the stage in _cafes_, +women of the street, and even lost creatures that live in public houses. +I don't know how many there have been--dozens! And I was silent, because +I wished to keep peace in my home. But this woman he has now is not like +the others. Juan is crazy for her; he is foolish; I know he has done +thousands of humiliating things so that she, recollecting that she is a +lady of high birth, will not throw him out into the street in sudden +shame from having relations with a bull-fighter. She has gone now. +Didn't you know it? I found out she had gone because she is bored in +Seville. She left without saying good-bye to Juan, and when he went to +see her the other day, he found the door closed. And there he is, sad as +a sick horse; he goes around among his friends with a funereal face and +drinks to cheer himself up; and when he comes home he acts as if he had +had a beating. No; he can't forget that woman. The senor was proud of +having a woman of that class care for him and his pride is hurt at being +left. Ah, how disgusted I am with him! He is no longer my husband. He +seems to me a different person. We hardly ever speak to one +another--just as if we were strangers, except when quarrelling. I am +alone upstairs and he sleeps downstairs in a room off the courtyard. We +shall never be united again, I swear it! Long ago I could overlook +everything; they were bad habits belonging to the profession; the +bull-fighters' mania. They believe themselves irresistible to women--but +now I don't want to see him any more; he has become repugnant to me." + +She spoke with energy, her eyes shining with the glow of hatred. + +"Ah, that woman! How she has changed him! He is another man! He only +cares to go with rich young fellows, and now the people of our ward and +all the poor in Seville who were his friends, and helped him in the +beginning, complain of him and some fine day they will raise a riot in +the plaza because he is ungrateful. Money comes in here by the +basketful, and it isn't easy to count it. Not even he himself ever knows +what he has, but I see it all. He gambles a great deal to make his new +friends like him, he loses much; the money comes in one door and goes +out the other. I say nothing to him. It is he that earns it. But he has +had to ask a loan from Don Jose for things needed at the hacienda and +some olive orchards he bought this year to add to the property were +purchased with other people's money. Nearly everything he earns during +the coming season will go to pay debts. + +"And if he should have an accident, and have to retire as others do! + +"He has even wanted to change me, just as he is changed. The _senor_ +shows, when he comes home after visiting his Dona Sol, or Dona Devil, +that his _mamita_ and I seem to him very out of date in our shawls and +our loose gowns such as are worn by all the daughters of the land. He it +is who has made me wear those hats brought from Madrid in which I look +so hideous, just like one of those monkeys that dance to the +hand-organs. The _mantilla_ is so rich! And he has bought that +hell-wagon, that automobile, that I am always afraid to ride in and +which smells to heaven. If we would let him he would even put a hat with +rooster's tails on poor _Mamita_. He is a vain fellow who thinks only of +that other woman and wants to make us like her so that he won't be +ashamed of us." + +The _banderillero_ broke forth in protests. Not so! Juan was +good-hearted and he did all this because he loved his family and wanted +them to have luxuries. + +"What you say about Juaniyo may be true, Sena' Carmen, but he must be +forgiven some things. Come! How many there are who die with envy at +sight of you! Is it nothing to be the wife of the bravest of all the +bull-fighters, with handfuls of money and a marvel of a house, of which +you are absolute mistress?--for the master gives you charge of +everything!" + +Carmen's eyes grew moist and she raised her handkerchief to her eyes. + +"I would rather be a shoe-maker's wife! How often I have thought it! If +only Juan had followed his trade instead of catching this bull-fighting +mania! I would be happier in a poor shawl going to carry him his dinner +in the _portal_ where he worked as did his father. There wouldn't be any +smart girls to take him away from me; he would be mine; we might know +want, but on Sundays, dressed in our best, we would go to dine at an +inn. Besides, the agonies of fear those accursed bulls cause me! This is +not living. Plenty of money, plenty! But believe me, Sebastian, it is +like poison to me, and the more that comes into the house the more my +blood chills. What are hats and all this luxury to me? People think I am +happy and they envy me, while my eyes follow the poor women that have +less, but who carry their babies in their arms and when they are in +trouble forget it in looking into the child's eyes and laughing with it. +Ah, children! I know how great is my misfortune. If only we had +children! If Juan could see a child in the house that was his own, all +his own, something nearer than his little nephews!" + +Carmen poured forth a continuous flow of tears that escaped through the +folds of her handkerchief and bathed her reddened cheeks. It was the +sorrow of the childless woman, ever envying the happy fate of mothers; +the desperation of the wife who, on seeing her husband growing distant +to her, pretends to think it due to divers causes, but in the depths of +her soul attributes the misfortune to her barrenness. Ah! for a son to +unite them! And Carmen, convinced by the passing years of the futility +of this desire, was in despair and gazed enviously at her silent +listener, to whom Nature had prodigally given that for which she longed +in vain. + +The _banderillero_ departed from this interview with his head bent low +and went in search of the _maestro_, meeting him at the door of the +Forty-five. + +"Juan, I have seen thy wife. The affair grows worse and worse. Try to +make up with her, to straighten things out." + +"Damn it! May sickness end her, thee, and me! This is not living. God +permit that Sunday a bull may catch me and so it will all be ended! What +is life worth!" + +He was partially drunk. He was desperate over the sullen frown he met in +his house and still more (though he confessed it to none), over the +flight of Dona Sol without leaving a word for him, not even a paper with +four lines of farewell. They had put him out of the door; had treated +him worse than if he had been a servant. He did not even know where the +woman was. The Marquis had interested himself but little in his niece's +journey. The maddest girl! She had not told him, either, about her +going, but not on that account would he think her lost in the world. She +would soon give signs of existence from some strange country where her +caprices had carried her. + +Gallardo did not conceal his desperation in his own house. At the +silence of his wife, who kept her eyes lowered, or looked at him +frowning and refusing to converse, the _matador_ burst forth into deadly +curses. + +"Damn my fate! I hope a Miura will hook me Sunday and shake me like a +bell, and that they will bring me home on a stretcher!" + +"Don't say that, _malaje!_" wailed Senora Angustias. "Don't tempt God. +See if that don't bring bad luck." + +But the brother-in-law intervened with his sententious air, taking +advantage of the opportunity to flatter the swordsman. + +"Never mind, _Mamita_. There isn't a bull alive that can touch him!" + +Sunday was the last bull-fight of the year in which Gallardo was to +work. He spent the morning without the vague fears and superstitious +preoccupations of other occasions. He dressed himself joyfully, with a +nervous excitement that seemed to augment the vigor of his arms and +legs. What joy that he would be able to rush out upon the yellow sand +and astound twelve thousand spectators by his gallantry and daring! His +art was the only reality--something which awakened the enthusiasm of the +multitudes and brought in money without measure. All the rest, family +and love, but served to complicate existence and cause unhappiness. Ah! +What sword-thrusts he was going to make! He felt the strength of a giant +within himself. He was a different man, he had neither fear nor dread. +He even showed impatience that it was not yet the hour for going to the +plaza, contrary to other times when he had put off the dreaded moment. +His fury at his domestic unhappiness and at that flight which wounded +his vanity, made him long to throw himself upon the bulls. + +When the carriage arrived, Gallardo crossed the courtyard, on this +occasion, paying no attention to the women's emotion. Carmen did not +appear. Bah! Women! They only serve to embitter life. Only in men did +one find lasting affection and joyful companionship. There was his +brother-in-law admiring himself before going to the plaza, happy in a +street suit of the master's which had been made over to his measure even +before the owner had worn it. In spite of being a ridiculous charlatan +he was worth more than all the rest of the family. He never abandoned +him. + +"Thou art finer than Roger de Flor himself," Gallardo told him gayly. +"Get into the coach--and I'll take thee to the plaza." + +His brother-in-law seated himself near the great man, trembling with +pride as he rode along the streets of Seville, that all should see him +seated among the silken capes and the heavy gold embroideries of the +bull-fighters. + +The plaza was full. This important _corrida_ at the end of autumn had +attracted a great audience, not only from the city but from the country +as well. Upon the "bleachers" in the sun were seated many people from +the surrounding country towns. + +From the first instant Gallardo showed the nervous activity that +possessed him. He was to be seen far from the _barrera_ advancing to +meet the bull, distracting him with his cape-work, while the _picadores_ +awaited the moment in which the bull would attack their miserable +horses. + +A certain antagonism of the public against the bull-fighter could be +felt. They applauded him as usual, but the demonstrations of enthusiasm +were more hearty and warm on the shady side than on the rows of seats in +the sun, where many sat in their shirt-sleeves in the burning rays. + +Gallardo divined the danger, foresaw that he would have bad luck, and +that half the ring would rise shouting against him, denouncing him as +thankless and ungrateful to those who had elevated him. + +He killed his first bull with middling luck. He threw himself as bravely +as ever between the horns, but the sword struck bone. His admirers +applauded him. The thrust was well aimed and he was not to be blamed for +the futility of his effort. But the second time he went in to kill, the +bull, on chasing after the _muleta_, shook the blade out of the wound, +sending it flying away. Then, taking a new sword from Garabato's hands, +he turned toward the wild beast, which awaited him, with fore-feet +planted forward, his neck streaming blood and his dripping mouth almost +touching the sand. The _maestro_ holding his _muleta_ before the bull's +eyes was tranquilly laying back with the point of his sword the shafts +of the _banderillas_ that hung over his head. He was going to kill him +by a stab in the spinal cord. He placed the steel point on the top of +the bull's head, searching between the horns for the sensitive spot. +With an effort he thrust in the sword and the animal shuddered +painfully, but still kept his feet, resisting the steel with a violent +tossing of his head. + +"One!" clamored the audience on the bleachers in mocking tones. + +"Damn it!" Why did those people attack him with such injustice? + +He raised the sword again and thrust, managing this time to reach the +vulnerable spot. The bull fell instantly, as if struck by a lightning +flash in the very nerve-centre of his life, and he lay with his horns +dug into the ground, his legs rigid in the air. + +The people in the shade applauded with class enthusiasm, while the +audience in the sun broke into hisses and jibes. + +"_Nino litri!_ Aristocrat!" + +Gallardo turned his back to these protests and saluted the enthusiasts +with his _muleta_ and sword. The insults of the populace which had +always been friendly to him hurt him and caused him to clench his fists. + +"But what do those people want? The bull gave no better account of +himself. Damn it! This is the work of enemies." + +He passed a great part of the _corrida_ close to the _barrera_ gazing +disdainfully at what his companions were doing, accusing them mentally +of having prepared these marks of displeasure against him in advance. + +He also broke into curses against the bull and the herder that raised +him. He had come so well prepared to do great deeds and he had +encountered a beast which would not permit him to shine! The breeders +that turned out such animals ought to be shot. + +When he again took up the instruments of death, he ordered Nacional and +another of his _peones_ to draw the bull with the cape toward the part +of the plaza where the populace was seated. + +He knew the public. He must humor the citizens in the sun, those +tumultuous and terrible demagogues who carried class hatred into the +plaza but easily changed hisses into applause when a slight show of +consideration flattered their pride. + +The _peones_, waving their capes at the bull, began a race to attract +him to the sunny side of the ring. A movement of joyful surprise from +the populace welcomed this manoeuvre. The supreme moment, the bull's +death, was to take place before their eyes--and not, as almost always +happened, at a great distance for the convenience of the rich who were +seated in the shade. + +The fierce beast, as he stood alone on that side of the plaza, began to +attack the dead body of a horse. He thrust his head into the open belly +and raised the miserable carcass on his horns like a limp rag. It fell +to the ground, lying almost doubled, and the bull backed away with +indecisive step. He returned again to sniff it with deep bellowings, +while the audience laughed at his stupid tenacity, at this search for +life in the inanimate body. + +"Jam him hard there! Thou hast lots of strength, boy! Keep it up, or +he'll turn on thee!" + +But every one's attention was withdrawn from this venting of the bull's +fury to Gallardo who was crossing the plaza with a short swinging step, +in one hand the rolled _muleta_, in the other flourishing his sword as +though it were a cane. + +The entire audience in the sun applauded, grateful to have the swordsman +come over to them. + +"Thou hast put them into thy pocket," said Nacional, who stood near the +bull with the cape ready. + +The multitude gesticulated, calling to the bull-fighter--"Here, here!" + +Each one wished him to kill the bull before his seat that he might not +lose the slightest detail, and the swordsman hesitated between the +contradictory calls of thousands of mouths. With one foot on the +vaulting wall of the barrier he calculated where best to end the bull. +He must be drawn farther away. The dead horse seemed to fill that whole +side of the plaza and disturbed the bull-fighter. + +He was about to order Nacional to attract the beast away, when he heard +a familiar voice behind him, a voice he did not recognize but which +caused him to turn quickly. + +"Good-afternoon, Senor Juan. We are going to applaud reality!" + +He saw in the first row, under the panel of the inner barrier, a folded +jacket on the edge of the wall, a pair of arms in shirt sleeves crossed +over it, and a broad face recently shaved resting in the hands, with a +hat drawn down to the ears. He looked like a good-natured rustic, come +from a country town to witness the bull-fight. + +Gallardo recognized him. It was Plumitas. + +He had fulfilled his promise and there he was among twelve thousand +people who did not know him, greeting the _matador_, who felt a certain +gratitude for this display of confidence. Gallardo marvelled at his +temerity. To come down to Seville, to enter the plaza, far from the +hills and the deserts where defence was easy for him, without the aid of +his two companions, his mare and his carbine, and all--to see him kill +bulls! Of the two, that man was the brave one. He thought of his +plantation which was at Plumitas' mercy, of the country life which was +only possible by maintaining good relations with this extraordinary +personage. The bull must be for him. + +He smiled at the bandit, who continued contemplating him with placid +countenance; he took off his cap and shouted, turning toward the +boisterous multitude, but with his eyes on Plumitas. + +"_Vaya!_ In honor of you!" + +He threw his cap into the bleachers and many hands were stretched out in +rivalry, struggling to grasp the sacred trust. Gallardo gave signs to +Nacional to bring the bull near him with his skilful cape-work. He +extended his _muleta_ and the beast attacked with sonorous bellowing, +passing beneath the red rag. "_Ole!_" roared the crowd, acknowledging +its old idol again and disposed to admire all that he did. + +He continued making _pases_ at the bull, accompanied by the exclamations +of the people a few feet away. Seeing him near they gave him advice. +"Take care, Gallardo!" The bull was perfectly sound. He must not let +himself get between him and the barrier. He must keep his retreat clear. + +Others more enthusiastic excited him to deeds of daring with audacious +counsel. + +"Let him have one of thy best! _Zas!_ A sword-thrust and thou hast him +in thy pocket!" + +The animal was too big and too cautious to be put in the pocket. He was +excited by the proximity of the dead horse, and kept returning to it as +if the odor intoxicated him. + +In one of his evolutions, the bull, tired by the _muleta_, stood +motionless. Gallardo had the dead horse behind him. It was a bad +situation, but out of worse he had come victorious. He wished to take +advantage of the horse's position. The public excited him to it. Among +the men on the bleachers who had risen to their feet, and were leaning +forward to lose no detail of the decisive moment, he recognized many +popular devotees who had begun to cool toward him but were now +applauding him again, moved by consideration for the populace. + +"Score a point, there! Good boy! Now we'll see the real thing! Strike +true!" + +Gallardo turned his head slightly to salute Plumitas, who sat smiling, +his moon face peeping above his arms and the jacket. + +"For you, comrade!" + +He squared himself with the sword presented ready to kill--but at that +instant the earth seemed to shake and he felt himself hurled to a great +distance; then the plaza fell, everything turned black, and a fierce +hurricane of voices seemed to blow in from off the sea. His body +vibrated painfully, his head buzzed as if it would burst; a mortal +anguish contracted his breast--and he fell into a dark and limitless +void, as into the unconsciousness of death. + +The bull, at the very instant in which Gallardo made ready to thrust, +had suddenly thrown himself upon him, attracted by the horse behind him. +It was a brutal encounter, in which the body of the bull-fighter with +its silk and gold trappings rolled away and disappeared beneath his +feet. He did not gore him with his horns, but the blow was horrible, +staggering. With head and horns the wild beast felled the man as though +he had been struck by a sledge hammer. + +The bull, which saw only the horse, felt an obstacle near his feet, and +scorning the dead body, turned to attack again the brilliant puppet that +lay motionless on the sand. He raised it with one horn, tossed it some +feet away after giving it a brief shaking, and then started to return to +a third attack. + +The multitude, stupefied by the swiftness with which all this had +occurred, remained silent, appalled. The bull was going to kill him! +Perhaps he had already done so! Suddenly a shriek from the entire +audience broke this agonizing silence. A cape was held between the wild +beast and his victim, a rag almost thrust over its head by vigorous arms +which tried to blind the brute. It was Nacional, who, in desperation, +threw himself upon the bull, willing to be caught by him to save his +master. The beast, stupefied by this new obstacle, charged against it, +turning tail to the man lying on the sand. The _banderillero_, in +between the horns, ran backward, waving the cape, not knowing how to +free himself from this perilous situation, but happy to see that he was +drawing the bull away from the wounded man. + +The audience almost forgot the swordsman, so impressed was it by this +new incident. Nacional was going to fall also; he could not get out from +between the horns; the wild beast already had him almost hooked. Men +shouted as if their cries could aid him; women wailed with anguish, +turning away their faces and clutching one another convulsively, until +the _banderillero_, taking advantage of the moment in which the wild +beast lowered his head to charge, rushed from between the horns, +stepping to one side, while the animal ran on blindly, the torn cape +hanging before his eyes. + +Then there broke forth deafening applause. The fickle multitude, +impressed only by the danger of the moment, applauded Nacional. It was +one of the happiest moments of his life. The audience, taken up with +him, scarcely noticed Gallardo's inanimate body as it was carried out of +the ring, the head hanging limp, by bull-fighters and employees of the +plaza. + +At nightfall the only subject of conversation in the city was Gallardo's +injury, the most terrible of his life. Extras were being published in +many cities and newspapers all over Spain gave accounts of the events +with lengthy comment. The telegraph worked as if a political personage +had just been the victim of an assassin. + +Terrifying news circulated along Sierpes Street exaggerated by Southern +hyperbolic commentary. Poor Gallardo had just died. He who gave the sad +news had seen him in a bed in the infirmary of the plaza, white as +paper, a cross in his hands. Another presented himself with less +lugubrious news. He was not dead yet, but he would die any moment. + +"He has lost everything! Everything! Disembowelled! The brute has left +the poor fellow punctured like a sieve." + +Guards had been placed at the entrances to the plaza so that the people, +anxious for news, should not invade the infirmary. The multitude surged +outside the ring asking news of the master's condition from those who +came and went. + +Nacional, still dressed in his fighting costume, peered out several +times, ill-humored and frowning, blustering and angry, because +arrangements for moving the _maestro_ to his house had not been made. +The people seeing the _banderillero_ forgot the injured man and +congratulated him. + +"Senor Sebastian, you have done very well. If it hadn't been for you--!" + +But what mattered it to him what he had done? All--_liquid_. The only +thing of importance was poor Juan who lay in the infirmary fighting +death. + +"And how is he, Senor Sebastian?" + +"Very bad. He has just regained his senses. He has one leg ground to +dust; a horn-stab under the arm; and what more I know not! The poor boy +is as dear to me as my patron-saint. We are going to carry him home." + +When night fell Gallardo was taken from the ring on a stretcher. The +multitude marched silently after him. The journey was long. Every moment +Nacional, who walked with his cape hanging over his arm, mingling in his +glittering bull-fighter's dress with the vulgar crowd, bent over the +rubber cover of the litter and ordered the bearers to halt. + +The doctors from the plaza walked behind and with them the Marquis of +Moraima and Don Jose, who seemed ready to faint and fall into the arms +of companions from the Forty-five, who were all jumbled together and +mixed in with the ragged mob that followed the bull-fighter. + +The crowd was in a state of consternation. It was a gloomy procession, +as if one of those national disasters that overcome differences of class +and level all men by general misfortune had taken place. + +"What a calamity, Senor Marques," said a chubby-cheeked, blonde rustic, +his jacket hanging over one shoulder. + +Twice he had rudely shoved away one of the stretcher bearers in his +desire to help carry it. The Marquis looked at him sympathetically. He +must be one of those country men who were accustomed to greet him on the +high-road. + +"Yes; a great calamity, boy." + +"Do you think he will die, Senor Marques?" + +"They fear so--unless a miracle saves him. He is ground to dust." + +The Marquis, laying his right hand on the stranger's shoulder, seemed to +be grateful for the sadness reflected in his countenance. + +The arrival at Gallardo's house was painful. Cries of despair arose in +the courtyard. On the street, the women, neighbors, and friends of the +family, screamed and tore their hair, believing Juan already dead. +Potaje and some comrades were obliged to stand in the doorway scattering +blows and cuffs so that the multitude following the stretcher should not +besiege the house. The street was filled with a crowd that surged about +commenting on the event. All stared at the house anxious to divine +something through the walls. + +The stretcher was carried into a room off the courtyard and the +_matador_ was moved to a bed with great care. He was enwrapped in cloths +and blood-stained bandages that smelled of strong antiseptics. A pink +stocking was all that remained of his fighting costume. His +underclothing was torn in some places and cut by scissors in others. + +His _coleta_ hung about his neck disordered and tangled; his face had +the pallor of death. He opened his eyes as he felt a hand pressed into +one of his and smiled slightly on seeing Carmen, a Carmen as white as +himself, with dry eyes, livid lips, and an expression of dread, as if +this were her husband's last moment. + +Gallardo's grave gentlemen friends prudently intervened. That could not +continue; Carmen must retire. As yet, only preliminary treatment had +been given the wound, and there was still much work for the doctors, so +the wife was taken out of the room. The wounded man made a sign with his +eyes to Nacional, who bent over him straining to catch his faint +whisper. + +"Juan says," he murmured, going out into the courtyard, "to telegraph to +Doctor Ruiz." + +The manager answered, happy at his foresight that he had done so in the +middle of the afternoon, as soon as he became convinced of the +seriousness of the calamity. He was sure the doctor must already be on +the way and would arrive the next morning. + +After this, Don Jose continued questioning the doctors who had treated +him in the plaza. Their first, perturbation over, they grew more +optimistic. It was possible he might not die. His constitution was so +strong! The greatest thing to fear was the shock he had suffered, the +shaking which was enough to kill another instantly; but he had already +come out of the first collapse and had recovered his senses, although +his weakness was great. As for the wounds, they did not consider them +dangerous. That on the arm was a slight thing; perhaps it would be less +agile than before. As for the leg, there was less hope. The bone was +fractured; Gallardo might be left lame. + +Don Jose, who had made every effort to be impassive when, hours before, +the swordsman's death was considered inevitable, shuddered on hearing +this. His _matador_ lame? Then he could never again fight bulls! He was +indignant at the calmness with which the doctors talked of the +possibility of Gallardo's being left useless for bull-fighting. + +"That cannot be. Do you think it logical that Juan will live and not +fight bulls? Who would take his place? It cannot be, I say! The greatest +man in the world, and they want him to retire!" + +He spent the night watching with the men of the _cuadrilla_ and +Gallardo's brother-in-law. The next morning he rushed to the station. +The express from Madrid arrived and on it Doctor Ruiz. He came without +baggage, dressed with his usual carelessness, smiling beneath his +yellowish white beard, his big abdomen shaking like a Buddha, in his +loose waistcoat, with the movements of his short legs. He had received +the news in Madrid as he was coming away from a fight of young bullocks +arranged to introduce a certain boy from Las Ventas. It was a clownish +exhibition which had greatly amused him and he laughed after a night of +weariness in the train, remembering this grotesque _corrida_, as if he +had forgotten the object of his journey. + +As he entered the sick room the bull-fighter, who seemed overcome with +weakness, opened his eyes and recognized him, and his face lighted with +a smile of confidence. Ruiz, after listening in a corner to the whispers +of the doctors who had given first aid, approached the invalid with a +resolute air. + +"Courage, my good fellow, thou are not going to die of this! Thou hast +ever such rare luck!" + +And then he added, turning to his colleagues: "But what a magnificent +animal this Juanillo is! Any other, by this time, would not have left us +anything to do." + +He examined him with care. A bad horn-wound; but he had seen many worse! +In cases of sickness that he called _ordinary_, he vacillated undecided, +not venturing to express an opinion. But the goring of a bull was his +speciality and he always expected the most remarkable recoveries, as if +the horns gave the wound and the remedy at once. + +"The man that doesn't die in the ring itself," he said, "can almost say +he is saved. The cure is just a question of time." + +For three days Gallardo was subjected to atrocious operations and +groaned with pain, for his weak state did not permit of the use of +anaesthetics. Doctor Ruiz extracted various splinters from one leg, +fragments of the fractured shin-bone. + +"Who said thou wouldst be left useless for fighting?" exclaimed the +doctor, happy in his skill. "Thou wilt fight bulls again, son; the +public will still be obliged to applaud thee much." + +The manager assented to these words. He had thought the same. Could that +youth, who was the greatest man in the world, die thus? + +By Doctor Ruiz' order, the bull-fighter's family had moved to Don Jose's +house. The women bothered him; their proximity was intolerable during +operating hours. A moan from the bull-fighter was enough to awaken +instant response from all parts of the house; the mother's and sister's +screams were like painful echoes. Carmen had to be held by force, and +she fought like a mad woman in her desire to go to her husband's side. + +Grief had changed the wife, making her forget her animosity. Often her +tears were caused by remorse, for she believed herself the unconscious +author of the calamity. + +"The fault is mine; I know it," she said in despair to Nacional. "He +said over and over again he wished a bull would gore him to finish it +all! I have been very wicked. I have embittered his life." + +In vain the _banderillero_ recounted the event in all its details to +convince her that the calamity had been accidental. No; Gallardo, +according to her, had wanted to end his life, and had it not been for +the _banderillero_, he would have been carried out of the ring dead. + +When the operations were over, the family returned to the house. Carmen +entered the wounded man's room with a light step and lowered eyes, as if +ashamed of her former hostility. + +"How art thou?" she asked, clasping one of Juan's hands between both her +own. She remained thus, silent and timid in the presence of Dr. Ruiz and +other friends who stayed by the sick man's bedside. Had she been left +alone perhaps she would have knelt beside her husband asking his +forgiveness. Poor fellow! She had made him desperate by her cruelty, +sending him to his death. She wished to forget it all. And her simple +soul looked out of her eyes with self-abnegation, her humility mingled +with wifely love and tenderness. + +Gallardo seemed to have grown smaller with so much suffering; he was +thin, pale, and shrunken. Nothing was left of the arrogant youth who +fired the public with his daring. He complained of his inactivity and of +his useless leg, heavy as lead. The terrible operations he had undergone +in full consciousness seemed to have made him a coward. His fortitude in +bearing pain had disappeared and he groaned at the slightest +molestation. + +His room was like a place of reunion through which the most celebrated +connoisseurs of the city passed. The smoke of their cigars was mingled +with the stench of iodoform and strong liniments. Bottles of wine that +had been presented by the callers stood on the tables among medicine +flasks and packages of cotton and bandages. + +"That is nothing," shouted his friends, wishing to encourage the +bull-fighter with their noisy optimism. "Inside of a couple of months +thou wilt be fighting bulls again. Thou hast fallen into good hands. +Doctor Ruiz works miracles." + +The doctor was equally encouraging. + +"We have a man on our hands again. Look at him; he is smoking. And a +sick man that smokes--" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +DOCTOR RUIZ ON TAUROMACHY + + +Far into the night the doctor, the manager, and members of the +_cuadrilla_ kept the wounded man company. When Potaje came he sat near +the table trying to keep the bottles within reach of his hand. The +conversation between Ruiz, the manager, and Nacional was always about +bulls. It was impossible to be with Don Jose and talk of anything else. +They commented on all bull-fighters' defects, discussed their merits and +the money they earned, while the convalescent listened in forced +inactivity or fell into a drowsy torpor stupefied by the murmur of +conversation. + +Generally the doctor was the only one who talked, followed in his +pompous argument by Nacional's grave and admiring eyes. "Bull-fighting +is an evolution," said he. "Dost thou understand, Sebastian? A +development from the customs of our country, a modification of the +popular diversions which Spaniards of olden times were given to; those +times of which Don Joselito must often have talked of to thee." + +Dr. Ruiz, with a glass in one hand, talked and talked, only stopping to +take a sip. + +The idea that bull-fighting as we know it is an ancient sport is nothing +but a tremendous lie. They killed wild beasts in Spain for the diversion +of the people but bull-fighting did not then exist as it is known +to-day. The Cid speared bulls skilfully and Christian and Moorish +gentlemen diverted themselves in the bull-ring, but bull-fighting as a +profession did not exist nor did they send the animals to a noble death +according to rules. + +The doctor related the history of the national sport for centuries past. +Only on rare occasions, when kings married, when a treaty of peace was +signed, or a chapel in a cathedral was dedicated, were such events as +bull-fights celebrated. There was no regularity in the repetition of +these feasts, nor were there any professional fighters. Titled gentlemen +dressed in costumes of silks went into the bull-ring mounted on their +chargers to spear the beast, or to fight it with lances before the eyes +of the ladies. If the bull managed to throw them off their horses they +drew their swords, and with the assistance of their lackeys put it to +death, wounding it wherever they could, without conforming to any rules. +When the _corrida_ was for the people the multitude descended into the +arena, attacking the bull _en masse_ until they succeeded in routing it, +killing it by dagger thrusts. + +"Bull-fights did not exist," continued the doctor. "That was hunting +wild cattle. In fact, the people had other occupations, and reckoned on +other sports peculiar to their epoch, and did not need to perfect this +diversion." + +The warlike Spaniard had a sure means of making his career in his +incessant wars in divers parts of Europe, and the exploration of the +Americas always called for valiant men. Moreover, religion afforded +frequent emotional spectacles, full of the thrill provided by the sight +of suffering in others by which indulgences for the soul could be +obtained. The sentences pronounced by the Inquisition and the burning +of human beings at the stake were spectacles that took away interest in +games with mere wild animals. The Inquisition became the great national +festival. + +"But there came a day," continued Doctor Ruiz with a fine smile, "in +which the Inquisition began to lose ground. Everything comes to an end +in this world. It finally died of old age, long before the reform +statutes suppressed it. It wore itself out; the world had changed and +such diversions became something like what a bull-fight in Norway would +be among the snows and beneath the gloomy sky. They lacked atmosphere. +They began to be ashamed of burning men, with all the pomp of sermons, +ridiculous vestures, and recantations. They no longer dared pass +Inquisition sentences. When it was necessary to show that it still +existed they contented themselves with beatings given behind closed +doors. At the same time we Spaniards, weary of roving over the world in +search of adventure, began to stay at home. There were no longer wars in +Flanders or in Italy; the conquest of America, with its continual +embarkation of adventurers, terminated, and then it was that the art of +bull-fighting began, that permanent plazas were constructed and +_cuadrillas_ of professional bull-fighters were formed; the game was +adjusted to rules, and the feats of _banderillas_ and of killing, as we +know them to-day, were recognized. The multitude found the sport much to +its liking. Bull-fighting became democratic when it was converted into a +profession. Gentlemen were substituted by plebians who demanded pay for +exposing their lives, and the people flocked to the bull-rings of their +own free will, and dared to insult from their seats in the plaza the +very authority which inspired their terror in the streets. The sons of +those who had frequented with religious and intense enthusiasm the +burning of heretics and the baiting of Jews gave themselves up to +witnessing, with noisy shouts, the struggle between the man and the +bull, in which only occasionally death comes to the man. Is this not +progress?" + +Ruiz insisted on his idea. In the middle of the eighteenth century when +Spain retired within herself, renouncing distant wars, and new +colonizations, and when religious cruelty languished for lack of +atmosphere, then was the time when bull-fighting flourished forth. +Popular heroism needed new heights to scale for notoriety and fortune. +The ferocity of the multitude, accustomed to orgies of death, needed a +safety valve to give expansion to its soul, educated for centuries to +the contemplation of torture. The Order of the Inquisition was replaced +by the bull-fight. He who a century before would have been a soldier in +Flanders, or a military colonizer in the solitudes of the New World, +became a bull-fighter. The people, finding their avenues of expansion +closed, saw in the new national sport a glorious opening for all the +ambitious ones who had valor and courage. + +"It was progress!" continued the doctor. "That seems clear to me. So I, +who am revolutionary in everything, am not ashamed to say I like the +bulls. Man needs a spice of wickedness to enliven the monotony of +existence. Alcohol is bad also and we know it does us harm, but nearly +all of us drink it. A little savagery now and then gives one new energy +to go on living. We all like to take a look into the past once in a +while and live the life of our remote ancestors. Brutality renews those +mysterious inner forces that it is not well to let die. You say +bull-fights are barbarous? So they are; but they are not the only +barbarous sport in the world. The turning to violent and savage joys is +a human ailment that all people suffer equally. For that reason I am +indignant when I see foreigners turn contemptuous eyes on Spain, as if +such things only existed here." + +And the doctor railed against horse-races, in which many more men are +killed than in bull-fights; against fox hunting with trained dogs, +witnessed by civilized spectators; against many modern games out of +which the champions come with broken legs, fractured skulls, or +flattened noses; against the duel, fought in the majority of cases +without other cause than an unhealthy desire for publicity. + +"The bull and the horse," railed Ruiz, "bring to tears the very people +that don't raise the slightest outcry in their own countries when they +see a racing animal fall in the hippodrome, ruptured, or with broken +legs, the very people who think the establishment of a zoological garden +the complement to the beauty of every great city." + +Doctor Ruiz was indignant because, in the name of civilization, +bull-fights were anathematized as barbarous and sanguinary, while in the +name of the same civilization the most useless as well as harmful +animals on earth were lodged and fed and warmed in princely luxury. Why +is that? Science knows them perfectly and has them catalogued. If their +extermination is objected to, one must still protest against the dark +tragedies that take place every day in the cages in the zoological +parks, the goat bleating piteously as he is thrust defenceless into the +panther's den, to be crushed to death by the wild beast burying his +claws in the victim's entrails, and his chops in his steaming blood; +timid rabbits, torn from the mountain's fragrant peace, trembling at the +breath of the boa which hypnotizes them with its eyes and winds the +coils of its grotesque rings about them. Hundreds of poor animals which +should be protected because of their weakness die to sustain absolutely +useless ferocious wild beasts that are kept and feasted in cities which +boast of belonging to the higher civilization; and from these same +cities insults are hurled against Spanish cruelty, because brave and +expert men, following rules of undisputed wisdom, kill a proud and +fearful wild beast face to face, in broad day, beneath the blue heavens, +in the presence of a noisy, gay-colored multitude, adding the charm of +picturesque beauty to the emotion of danger. _Vive Dios!_ + +"They insult us because we have become weak," said Ruiz, waxing +indignant over what he considered universal injustice. "Our world is +like a monkey that imitates the gestures and joys of the one he respects +as a master. Just now England leads, and both hemispheres approve +horse-racing; crowds stupidly gather to watch lank nags run around a +race-track, a spectacle that could not be surpassed in insipidity. If in +the days of Spain's supremacy bull-fighting had been as popular as +to-day, there would now be bull-rings in many European countries. Don't +talk to me about the superior foreigners! I admire them because they +have made revolutions, and we owe much of our thought to them; but +regarding bulls, heavens, man, they talk nothing but nonsense!" + +And the vehement doctor, with the blindness of fanaticism, condemned in +his execration everybody on the planet who abominated the Spanish sport +while at the same time they upheld other sanguinary diversions which +cannot even justify themselves with the pretext of beauty. + +After a stay of ten days in Seville the doctor had to return to Madrid. + +"Well, young fellow," he said to the sick man, "thou dost not need me +now and I have a great deal to do. Don't be imprudent. After two months +thou wilt be well and strong. It is possible thou mayest be a little +stiff in the leg, but thou hast a constitution of iron and thou wilt +mend." + +Gallardo's recovery took place within the time set by Ruiz. When at the +end of a month his leg was freed from its enforced quiet, the +bull-fighter, weak and limping slightly, could go out and sit in an +arm-chair in the courtyard, where he received his friends. + +During his illness, when the fever was high and he was lost in delirium, +one thought, ever the same, held firm in the midst of his imaginative +wanderings. Dona Sol--did that woman know of his misfortune? + +While he was still in bed he ventured to ask his manager about her one +day when they were alone. + +"Yes, man," said Don Jose, "she has thought of thee. She sent me a +telegram from Nice, asking about thy health three days after the +accident. Doubtless she heard of it through the newspapers. They have +talked about thee everywhere, as if thou wert a king." + +The manager had answered the telegram but had heard nothing from her +since. + +Gallardo was satisfied with this news for some days but then he began +to ask again, with the insistence of a sick man who thinks the whole +world interested in the state of his health. Had she not written? Had +she not asked for more news of him? The manager tried to excuse Dona +Sol's silence and thus console his _matador_. He must remember that the +lady was always travelling. How could any one know where she might be at +that moment? + +But the bull-fighter's sorrow at thinking himself forgotten obliged Don +Jose to lie out of pity. Days before he had received a short note from +Italy in which Dona Sol asked for news of the wounded man. + +"Let me see it," said Gallardo eagerly. + +When he pretended to have forgotten it at home, Gallardo implored him, +"Bring it to me. I so long to see her writing, to convince myself that +she remembers me." + +To avoid new complications, Don Jose invented a correspondence which +never reached his hands because it was directed to some one else. Dona +Sol wrote, according to him, to the marquis in regard to business +connected with her fortune, and at the end of every letter she asked +about Gallardo's health. Again, the letters were to a cousin of hers and +in them was the same thought of the bull-fighter. + +Gallardo heard this news joyfully but at the same time shook his head +with a doubtful expression. When would he see her again! Would he ever +see her? Ah, that erratic woman, who had flown without reason at the +caprice of her strange disposition! + +"What thou shouldst do," said the manager, "is to forget women and think +about business a little. Thou art no longer in bed. How dost thou feel +in regard to strength? Tell me, shall we fight bulls or not? Thou hast +the rest of the winter in which to grow strong. Shall we accept +contracts to fight this year, or shall we refuse?" + +Gallardo raised his head proudly, as if something dishonorable had been +proposed to him. Give up bull-fighting? Pass a year without being seen +in the ring? Was it possible the public could be resigned to such an +absence? + +"Accept, Don Jose. From now till spring there is time to get strong. I +will fight whatever they put before me. You can make a contract for the +Easter bull-fight. It seems to me this leg is going to give me a good +deal of trouble, but by then, God willing, I'll be as if made of iron." + +It was two months before the bull-fighter grew strong. He limped +slightly and felt less agility in his arms; but he made light of these +troubles as insignificant when he began to feel the power of health +reanimating his vigorous body. + +Finding himself alone in his wife's room (for he had returned to it when +he abandoned the sick chamber), he stood before a mirror and squared +himself as though facing a bull, placing one arm above the other in the +form of a cross as though holding the sword and _muleta_ in his hands. +_Zas!_ A sword-thrust at the invisible bull. To the very hilt! He smiled +proudly thinking how his enemies were going to be deceived, those who +prophesied his immediate decadence whenever he was gored. + +It would be a long time yet before he could enter the ring. He longed +for the glory of applause and the acclamation of the multitudes with the +eagerness of a beginner,--as though the recent injury had closed a past +existence; as if the former Gallardo were another man while now he had +to begin his career anew. + +He decided to pass the rest of the winter at La Rinconada with his +family, to gain strength. Hunting and long trips would improve his +broken leg. Besides, he would ride on horseback overseeing the work, he +would visit the flocks of goats, the herds of swine, the droves of +cattle and horses pastured in the meadows. The administration of the +plantation was not getting on well. Everything cost him more than other +proprietors and the profits were less. It was the estate of a +bull-fighter of generous habits accustomed to earning great quantities +of money without knowing the restriction of economy. His travels during +a part of the year, and his accident, which had brought stupefaction and +disorder into his house, caused business to go awry. + +Antonio, his brother-in-law, who had established himself at the +plantation for a season with the airs of a dictator intending to set +everything in order, had only impeded the progress of the work and +provoked the ire of the laborers. Fortunately Gallardo counted on +certain returns from the bull-fights, an inexhaustible source of wealth +for repairing his prodigality. + +Before leaving for La Rinconada Senora Angustias begged her son to go +and kneel before the Virgin of Hope. It was to fulfil a promise she had +made in that dismal twilight when she had seen him brought home upon a +stretcher, pale and motionless as a dead man. How often had she wept +before the Macarena, the beautiful Queen of Heaven with her long lashes +and olive cheeks, asking her not to forget her poor Juanillo! + +The occasion was a popular event. The gardeners of the Macarena ward +were called upon by the master's mother, and the Church of San Gil was +filled with flowers arranged in tall heaps like pyramids on the altars, +or hanging in garlands between the arches and suspended from the lamps +in great clusters. + +The sacred ceremony took place one bright morning. In spite of its being +a week-day the church was filled with the best families of the nearby +wards; stout women with black eyes and short necks, with waists and hips +outlined in coarse curves, wearing black silk gowns with lace +_mantillas_ over their pale faces; workmen recently shaven, in new +suits, round hats, and with great gold chains on their waistcoats. +Beggars came in bands as if a wedding were to be celebrated and stood at +the doors of the temple in double file. The good wives of the ward, +unkempt and with babies in their arms, formed groups, impatiently +awaiting the arrival of Gallardo and his family. + +A mass was to be sung with accompaniment of orchestra and voices, +something extraordinary, like the opera in the theatre of San Fernando +at Christmas time. Then the priests would sing the _Te Deum_ as a +thanksgiving for the recovery of Senor Juan Gallardo, just as when the +king entered Seville. + +The _cortege_ appeared making its way through the crowd. The +bull-fighter's mother and wife, with relatives and friends, walked in +advance, while the heavy silk of their skirts rustled as they passed, +smiling sweetly beneath their _mantillas_. + +Behind came Gallardo, followed by an interminable escort of +bull-fighters and friends, all dressed in light colors, with chains and +rings of amazing splendor, wearing on their heads white felt hats which +contrasted with the blackness of the feminine headgear. + +Gallardo was grave. He was a sincere believer. He thought little about +God and blasphemed Him in difficult moments with the automatism of +custom; but this was a different thing; he was going to give thanks to +the Most Holy Macarena, and he entered the temple with an air of pious +compunction. + +All went in except Nacional, who abandoned his wife and offspring and +remained outside in the churchyard. + +"I am a free-thinker," he believed the time opportune to declare before +a group of friends. "I respect all beliefs; but what is going on inside, +for me is--_liquid!_ I don't want to be lacking in respect to the +Macarena, nor to rob her of her due, but, comrade, if I had not arrived +in time to attract the bull away when Juaniyo was stretched on the +ground--!" + +The sound of the instruments was borne out to the churchyard, with the +voices of the singers, a sweet, voluptuous harmony, accompanied by +breaths of perfume from the flowers and the odor of wax candles. + +The bull-fighters and devotees of Gallardo who were gathered outside the +temple smoked cigarette after cigarette. From time to time some of them +strayed off to while away the time in the nearest tavern. + +When the company came forth again the poor appeared smiling and +gesticulating, their hands full of coin. There was money for all. The +_maestro_ Gallardo was liberal. + +Senora Angustias wept, with her head reclining on a friend's shoulder. + +At the door of the church the _matador_, smiling and magnificent, gave +his arm to his wife, who walked tremulous with emotion and with lowered +eyes, a tear quivering on her lashes. + +Carmen felt as if she had just been married a second time. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +AIRING THE SAINTS + + +As Holy Week drew near, Gallardo gave his mother a great joy. In former +years the swordsman used to join the procession of the San Lorenzo +parish as a devotee of Our Lord Jesus of the Great Power, dressed in a +black tunic with a tall hood and a mask that left only his eyes visible. +It was a gentleman's fraternity, and the bull-fighter, finding himself +on the road to fortune, had joined it, forsaking popular brotherhoods in +which devotion was accompanied by drunkenness and scandal. + +Gallardo talked with pride of the seriousness of this religious +association. Everything was orderly and well disciplined, as in the +army. On the night of Holy Thursday, when the clock on San Lorenzo was +striking the second stroke of two at break of day, the doors opened +instantaneously and the whole interior of the temple, full of lights and +with the fraternity in line, appeared before the eyes of the multitude +which was crowded together in the darkness of the churchyard. + +The black-cowled figures, silent and gloomy, with no other expression of +life than the glitter of their eyes behind the dark mask, advanced two +by two with slow step, keeping a wide space between pair and pair, +grasping their torches of livid flame and trailing their long tunics on +the floor. + +The multitude, with that impressionability inherent in Southern peoples, +contemplated intently the passing of the hooded brethren whom they +called Nazarenes, mysterious maskers who perhaps were great gentlemen, +moved by traditional devotion to figure in this nocturnal procession +which ended immediately at sunrise. + +It was a silent fraternity. The Nazarenes must not speak, and they +marched escorted by municipal guards who took care that the importunate +should not molest them. Drunkards abounded in the multitude. There +wandered through the streets tireless devotees who, in memory of the +Passion of Our Lord, began on Holy Wednesday to demonstrate their piety +by walking from tavern to tavern, and did not reach the last station +until Saturday, in which they took final refuge after innumerable falls +by the way which had been for them likewise a sort of Via Dolorosa. + +As the members of the fraternity, sentenced to silence under heavy +penalty, marched along in procession, the drunken concourse drew near +and murmured in their ears the most atrocious insults against the +maskers and their families, whom perhaps they did not know. The Nazarene +held his peace and suffered in silence, swallowing the outrages and +offering them as a sacrifice to the Lord of Great Power. But these +troublesome fellows, like flies that would not be driven away, incited +to further activity by this meekness, redoubled their offensive buzzing +until at last some pious masker thought that, although silence was +obligatory, inaction was not, and without speaking a word, raised the +torch and struck a drunkard who had disturbed the sacred order of the +ceremony. + +During the course of the procession, when the bearers of the statues +halted for rest and the heavy platforms of the images hung about with +lanterns stood still, at a light hiss the hooded brethren stopped, the +couples standing face to face, with the flambeau resting on one foot, +gazing at the crowd through the masks with their mysterious eyes. They +were like gloomy apparitions escaped from an Inquisition sentence, +grotesque beings seeming to shed perfumes of incense and stench of +burning flesh. + +The mournful blast of the copper trumpets sounded, breaking the silence +of the night. Above the points of the hoods the pennants of the +fraternity, squares of black velvet edged with gold fringe, moved in the +breeze; the Roman anagram, S. P. Q. R., recalled the intervention of the +Prefect of Judea in the death of the Saviour. + +The image of Our Father Jesus of the Great Power advanced on a heavy +platform of wrought metal with black velvet hangings that grazed the +ground, hiding the feet of the twenty sweaty, half-naked men who walked +beneath carrying it. Four groups of lanterns with golden angels shone at +the corners; in the centre was Jesus, a Jesus tragic, painful, bleeding, +crowned with thorns, bent beneath the weight of the cross, his face +cadaverous and his eyes tearful, dressed in an ample velvet tunic so +covered with golden flowers that the rich cloth could scarcely be +distinguished beneath the delicate arabesque in the complicated design +of the embroidery. + +The presence of the Lord of the Great Power called forth sighs from +hundreds. "Father Josu!" murmured the old women, their eyes fixed on the +image with hypnotic stare. "Lord of the Great Power! Remember us!" + +The image rested in the centre of a plaza with its escort of hooded +inquisitionists, and the devotion of the Andalusian people, which +confides all conditions of its soul to song, greeted the float with +bird-like trills and interminable lamentations. + +An infantile voice of tremulous sweetness broke the silence. It was a +young woman who, advancing through the crowd until she stood in the +first row, broke into a _saeta_ to Jesus. The three verses of the song +were for the Lord of Great Power, for the most divine statue, and for +the sculptor Montanes, one of the great Spanish artists of the golden +age. + +This _saeta_ was like the first shot of a battle that starts an +interminable outburst of explosions. Hers was not yet ended when another +was heard from a different quarter, and another and another, as if the +plaza were a great cage of mad birds which, on being awakened by the +voice of a companion, all joined in song at once in bewildering +confusion. Masculine voices, grave and hoarse, united their sombre tones +to the feminine trilling. All sang with their eyes fixed on the image, +as if they stood alone before it, forgetting the crowd that surrounded +them, deaf to the other voices, without losing place or hesitating in +the complicated trills of the _saeta_, which made discord and mingled +inharmoniously with the chanting of the others. The hooded brethren +listened motionless, gazing at the Jesus, who received these warblings +without ceasing to shed tears beneath the weight of the cross and the +stinging pain of the thorns, until the conductor of the image, deciding +that the halt be over, rang a silver bell on the fore-end of the +platform. "Arise!" The Lord of Great Power, after several vibrations, +rose higher and the feet of the invisible bearers began to move along +the ground like tentacles. + +Next came the Virgin, "Our Lady of the Greater Sorrow," for every parish +paraded two images--one of the Son of God and the other of His Holy +Mother. Beneath a velvet canopy the golden crown of the Lady of Greater +Sorrow trembled, surrounded by lights. The train of her mantle, many +yards long, fell behind the image, held out by a kind of wooden +hoop-skirt, showing the splendor of its heavy embroideries, glittering +and costly, on which the skill and patience of an entire generation had +been spent. + +The hooded brethren, with sputtering torches, escorted the Virgin, the +reflection of their lights trembling on this regal mantle which filled +the scene with glittering splendor. To the sound of the double beat of +drums marched a group of women, their bodies in shadow and their faces +reddened by the flame of the candles they carried in their hands; old +women in _mantillas_, with bare feet; young women dressed in white gowns +originally intended as winding-sheets; women who walked with difficulty +as though suffering from painful maladies--a whole battalion of +suffering humanity, delivered from death through the mercy of the Lord +of Great Power and His Most Holy Mother, walking behind their images to +fulfil a vow. + +The procession, after marching slowly through the streets, with long +halts accompanied by songs, entered the cathedral, which remained open +all night. The defile of lights on entering the enormous naves of this +temple brought out from obscurity the gigantic columns wrapped in +purple hangings edged with lines of gold, without dissipating the thick +darkness of the vaulted roof. The hooded men marched like black insects +in the ruddy light of the torches below, while night was still massed +above. They went out into the starlight again, leaving this crypt-like +obscurity, and the sun surprised the procession in the open street, +extinguishing the brilliancy of their torches, causing the gold of the +holy vestments and the tears and sweat of agony on the images to glisten +in the light of dawn. + +Gallardo was devoted to the Lord of the Great Power and to the majestic +silence of his fraternity, but this year he decided to parade with those +of the Macarena who escorted the miraculous Virgin of Hope. + +Senora Angustias was overjoyed when she heard his decision. Well did he +owe it to this Virgin for having saved him from his last goring. +Besides, this flattered her sentiments of plebian simplicity. + +"Every one with his kind, Juaniyo. Thou goest with the upper class, but +remember that the poor always loved thee and that they had begun to talk +against thee, thinking that thou didst despise them." + +The bull-fighter knew it too well. The tumultuous populace which +occupied the bleachers in the plaza had begun to show a certain +animosity toward him, thinking themselves forgotten. They criticised his +intercourse with the rich and his drawing away from those who had been +his first admirers. To overcome this animosity, Gallardo took advantage +of every opportunity, flattering the rabble with the unscrupulous +servility of those who must live by public applause. He had sent for the +most influential brethren of the Macarena to explain to them that he +would be in the procession. The people must not know of it. He did it as +a devotee and wished his act to remain a secret. But in a few days, +nothing else was discussed in the whole ward. The Macarena would be +carried this year in great beauty! They scorned the rich devotees of the +Great Power with its orderly, insipid procession, and they gave +attention only to their rivals of the boisterous Triana on the other +side of the river, who were so arrogant over their objects of devotion, +Our Lady of Protection and Christ of the Expiration, whom they called +the Most Holy _Cachorro_. + +Gallardo collected all his own and his wife's jewels to contribute to +the Macarena's splendor. In her ears he would put some pendants of +Carmen's which he had bought in Madrid, investing in them the profits of +several bull-fights. On her breast she should wear his chain of rolled +gold, and hanging from it all his rings and the great diamond buttons +which he put in his shirt bosom when he went out dressed in courtly +style. + +"_Josu!_ How fine our brunette will be," said the women of the +neighborhood speaking of the Virgin. "Senor Juan is running everything. +Half Seville will go mad with enthusiasm." + +The _matador_ believed in the Virgin and with devout egoism he wished to +enter into her favor in view of future dangers, but he trembled as he +thought of the jokes of his friends when they gathered in the _cafes_ +and societies on Sierpes Street. + +"They will cut off my _coleta_ if they recognize me. But one has to get +along with everybody." + +On Holy Thursday he went to the cathedral at night with his wife to hear +the _Miserere_. The temple, with its stupendously high vaulted arches, +was without other light than that of the ruddy glow from the candles on +the columns. The people of the better class were caged behind the +grilles of the chapels on the sides, avoiding contact with the sweaty +crowd that surged in the naves. The lights destined for the musicians +and singers shone from out the obscurity of the choir like a +constellation of red stars. Eslava's _Miserere_ sent forth its sweet +Italian melodies into this awesome atmosphere of shade and mystery. It +was an Andalusian _Miserere_, somewhat playful and gay, like the +flapping of bird wings, with romances like love serenades and choruses +like revellers' roundelays, the joy of living in a fair land that causes +forgetfulness of death and protests against the sorrow of the Passion. + +When the tenor's voice ended the last romance and his lamentations were +lost in the vaulted ceiling, apostrophizing the deicide city, +"Jerusalem, Jerusalem!" the crowd scattered, desiring to return as soon +as possible to the streets, which had the aspect of a theatre, with the +electric lights, their rows of chairs on the sidewalks, and their boxes +in the plazas. + +Gallardo returned home to dress himself as a Nazarene. Senora Angustias +had given much care to his costume, which took her back to the days of +her youth. Ah! her poor husband, who on this night had put on his +warlike trappings and, throwing his lance over his shoulder, had gone +out into the streets not to return till the following day, when he came +back with his helmet dented and his armour covered with filth, after +having camped with his brothers-in-arms in all the taverns in Seville! + +The swordsman cared for his underwear with feminine scrupulousness. He +paid the Nazarene costume the same attentions he gave a fighting dress +on a bull-fight afternoon. He put on silk stockings and patent leather +shoes, and the white sateen gown prepared by his mother's hands, and +over this the pointed cape of green velvet that fell from his shoulders +to his knees, like a chasuble. The coat of arms of the fraternity was +richly and carefully embroidered with a profusion of colors on one side +of the breast. Then he drew on white gloves and grasped a tall cane, +emblem of dignity in the fraternity; a staff covered with green velvet +and tipped with silver. + +In a narrow street Gallardo met the procession of the Company of the +Jews, a troop of men in coats of mail, who, eager to show their warlike +discipline, kept step as they marched in time to a drum that beat +ceaselessly. They were young men and old, with their countenances framed +by the metallic chin-straps of the helmet, wearing wine-colored habits, +flesh-colored cotton hose, and high sandals. They wore the Roman sword +at the belt, and, to imitate modern soldiers, the cord that held their +lances hung from one shoulder, like a gun-case. At the head of the +company floated the Roman banner with its senatorial inscription. + +The procession marched with traditional slowness, stopping whole hours +at the crossways. They did not value time. It was twelve o'clock at +night and the Macarena would not return to her abode until twelve on the +following morning, taking more time to travel about the city than is +needed to go from Seville to Madrid. + +First came the _paso_ of the "Sentence of Our Lord Jesus Christ," a +float filled with figures representing Pilate seated on a golden throne +surrounded by soldiers in colored skirts and plumed helmets, watching +the sad Jesus soon to march to the place of execution in a tunic of +brown velvet covered with embroideries, and three golden plumes that +signified rays of divinity above his crown of thorns. This _paso_ +proceeded without attracting attention, as if humbled by the proximity +of the one that came after, the Queen of the popular wards, the +miraculous Virgin of Hope, the Macarena. When the Virgin with the rosy +cheeks and long lashes left San Gil beneath a trembling canopy of +velvet, bowing with the movement of the hidden bearers, a deafening +acclamation arose from the multitude that surged through the small +plaza. But how pretty the great Senora! She never grew older! + +The mantle, splendid, immense, with heavy gold embroidery that resembled +the meshes of a net, hung behind the float, like the wide-spread tail of +a gigantic peacock. Her glass eyes shone as if filled with tears of +emotion in response to the acclamations of the faithful, and to this +glitter was added the scintillation of the jewels that covered her body, +forming an armor of gold and precious stones over the embroidered +velvet. She seemed sprinkled with a shower of luminous drops, in which +flamed all the colors of the rainbow. From her neck hung strings of +pearls, chains of gold with dozens of rings linked together that +scattered magic splendors as she moved. The tunic and the front of the +mantle were hung with gold watches fastened on with pins, pendants of +emeralds and diamonds, rings with enormous stones like luminous pebbles. +All the devotees sent their jewels that they might light the most Holy +Macarena on her journey. The women exhibited their hands divested of +ornaments on this night of religious sacrifice, happy to have the Mother +of God display jewels that were their pride. The public knew them from +having seen them every year. That one which the Virgin displayed on her +breast, hanging from a chain, belonged to Gallardo, the bull-fighter. +But others shared the popular honors along with him. Feminine glances +devoured rapturously two enormous pearls and a strand of rings. They +belonged to a girl of the ward who had gone to Madrid two years before, +and being a devotee of the Macarena, returned to see the feast with an +old gentleman. The luck of that girl--! + +Gallardo, with his face covered, and leaning on a staff, the emblem of +authority, marched before the _paso_ with the dignitaries of the +brotherhood. Other hooded brothers carried long trumpets adorned with +green bannerets with fringes of gold. They raised the mouthpiece to an +aperture in the masks, and an ear-splitting blast, an agonizing sound, +rent the silence. But this hair-raising roar awoke no echo of death in +the hearts that beat around them. + +Along the dark and solitary cross-streets came whiffs of springtime +breezes laden with garden perfumes, the fragrance of orange blossoms, +and the aroma of flowers in pots ranged behind grilles and balconies. +The blue of the sky paled at the caress of the moon which rested on a +downy bed of clouds, thrusting its face between two gables. The +melancholy defile seemed to march against the current of Nature, losing +its funereal gravity at each step. In vain the trumpets sounded +lamentations of death, in vain the minstrels wept as they intoned the +sacred verses, and in vain the grim executioners kept step with +hangman's frown. The vernal night laughed, scattering its breath of +perfumed life. No one dwelt on death. + +Enthusiastic _Macarenos_ surrounded the Virgin like a troop of +revellers. Gardeners came from the suburbs with their dishevelled women +who dragged a string of children by the hand, taking them on an +excursion lasting until the dawn. Young fellows of the ward with new +hats and with curls smoothed down over their ears flourished clubs with +warlike fervor, as though some one were likely to display lack of +respect for the beautiful Lady, so that the support of their arm would +be necessary. All jostled together, crowding into the narrow streets +between the enormous _paso_ and the walls, but with their eyes fixed on +those of the image, talking to her, hurling compliments to her beauty +and miraculous power with the inconsistency produced by wine and their +frivolous bird-like minds. + +"_Ole, la Macarena!_ The greatest Virgin in the world! She who excels +all other Virgins!" + +Every fifty steps the sacred platform was halted. There was no hurry. +The journey was long. At many houses they demanded that the Virgin stop +so that they could gaze on her at leisure. Every tavern keeper also +asked for a pause at the door of his establishment, alleging his rights +as a citizen of the ward. A man crossed the street directing his steps +toward the hooded brethren with the staffs who walked in advance of the +float. + +"Hold! Let them stop! For here is the greatest singer in the world who +wishes to sing a couplet to the Virgin." + +"The greatest singer in the world," leaning against one friend, and +handing his glass to another, advanced toward the image with shaking +legs, and after clearing his throat delivered a torrent of hoarse sounds +in which trills obliterated the clarity of the words. It could only be +understood that he sang to the "Mother," the Mother of God, and as he +uttered this word, his voice acquired additional tremors of emotion with +that sensibility to popular poesy that finds its most sincere +inspiration in maternal love. + +Another and then another voice was heard, as if the minstrel had started +a musical contest; as if the street were filled with invisible birds, +some hoarse and rasping, others shrill, with a penetrating screech that +suggested a red and swollen throat, ready to burst. Most of the singers +kept hidden in the crowd, with the simplicity of devotion that does not +crave to be seen in its manifestations; others were eager to exhibit +themselves, planting themselves in the midst of the crowd before the +holy Macarena. + +When the songs ended the public burst into vulgar exclamations of +enthusiasm, and again the Macarena, the beautiful, the only, was +glorified, and wine circulated in glasses around the feet of the image; +the most vehement threw their hats at her as if she were a real girl, a +pretty girl, and it was not clear now whether it was the fervor of the +faithful who sang to the Virgin, or a pagan orgy that accompanied her +transit through the streets. + +In advance of the float went a youth dressed in a violet tunic and +crowned with thorns. He trod the bluish paving stones with bare feet and +marched with his body bowed beneath the weight of a cross twice as big +as himself, and when after a long wait he rejoined the float, good +souls aided him to drag his burden. + +The women wept with tender compassion as they saw him. Poor boy! With +what holy fervor he performed his penance. Every one in the ward +remembered his sacrilegious crime. Accursed wine, that turns men mad! +Three years before, on the morning of Holy Friday, when the Macarena was +about to retire to her church after having wandered all night through +the streets of Seville, this sinner, who was really a good boy and had +been revelling with his friends overnight, had compelled the float to +stop at a tavern on the plaza of the marketplace. He sang to the Virgin, +and then, possessed of a holy enthusiasm, burst into endearing +expressions, _Ole!_ Pretty Macarena! He loved her more than his +sweetheart! To better express his faith, he threw at her feet what he +had in his hand, thinking it was his hat, and a wine glass burst on the +handsome face of the great Lady. They took him weeping to the police +station. But he loved the Macarena as if she were his mother! It was the +accursed wine that made men do they knew not what! He trembled with fear +at the years of imprisonment awaiting him for disrespect to religion; he +shed tears of repentance for his sacrilege; until finally, even the most +indignant interceded in his favor and the matter was settled by his +promise to give an example to sinners by performing an extraordinary +penance. Sweaty and panting he dragged the cross, changing the position +of the burden when one of his shoulders became numbed by the painful +weight. His comrades pitied him; they dared not laugh at his penance, +and they compassionately offered him glasses of wine. But he turned his +eyes away from the offering, fixing them on the Virgin to make her a +witness to his martyrdom. He would drink the next day without fear, when +the Macarena was left safe in her church. + +The float halted in a street of the ward of the Feria, and now the head +of the procession had reached the centre of Seville. The green-hooded +brethren and the company wearing the coats of mail advanced with warlike +mien like an army marching to attack. They wished to reach Campana +Street and take possession of the entrance to Sierpes Street before +another fraternity should present itself. The vanguard once in control +of this position could tranquilly await the Virgin's arrival. The +_Macarenos_ each year made themselves masters of the famous street and +took whole hours to pass through it, enjoying the impatient protests of +the fraternities of other wards. + +Sierpes Street was converted into a sort of reception hall with the +balconies thronged with people, electric globes hanging from wires +strung from wall to wall, and all the _cafes_ and stores illuminated; +the windows were filled with heads, and rows of chairs along the walls, +with crowds, rising in their seats each time the distant trumpeting and +beating of the drums announced the proximity of a float. + +It was three in the morning and nothing indicated the lateness of the +hour. People were eating in _cafes_ and taverns. The thick odor of oil +escaped through the doors of the places where fish was frying. Itinerant +venders stationed themselves in the centre of the street crying sweets +and drinks. Whole families who only came to light on occasions of great +festivity, had been there from two o'clock in the afternoon watching +the passing of processions and more processions. There were Virgins with +mantles of overwhelming sumptuousness which drew shouts of admiration by +their display of velvet; Redeemers, crowned with gold and wearing +vestments of brocade, and a whole world of absurd images whose tragic, +bleeding, or tearful faces contrasted with the theatrical luxury and +richness of their clothing. Foreigners, attracted by the strangeness of +this Christian ceremony, joyous as a pagan feast in which there were no +faces of woe and sadness but those of the images, heard their names +called out by Sevillians seated near them. The floats started off--those +of the Sacred Decree of the Holy Christ of Silence; of Our Lady of +Sorrows; of Jesus with the Cross on His Shoulder; of Our Lady of the +Valley; of Our Father Jesus of the Three Falls; of Our Lady of Tears; of +the Lord of Good Death; and of Our Lady of the Three Necessities, +accompanied by Nazarenes black and white, red, green, blue and violet, +all masked, hiding their mysterious personality beneath their pointed +hoods. + +The heavy platforms advanced slowly and with great difficulty because of +the narrowness of the street. On reaching the plaza of San Francisco, +opposite the viewing stand built in front of the Government palace, the +floats made a half-turn until they stood facing the images and by a +genuflexion of their bearers they saluted the illustrious strangers and +royal personages gathered to witness the feast. + +Near the floats marched boys with pitchers of water. The catafalque had +scarcely stopped when a fold of the velvet hangings which hid its +interior was raised and twenty or thirty men appeared, sweaty, purple +from fatigue, half naked, with handkerchiefs bound around their heads, +and looking like tired savages. They were the so-called "Galicians," in +which geographic appellative are confounded all lusty workmen whatever +may be their origin, as though the other sons of the country were not +capable of constant or fatiguing labor. They greedily drank the water, +or, if there were a tavern near, they rebelled against the director of +the float and demanded wine. Thus the festivities were prolonged through +the whole night, frivolous, gay, and theatrical. In vain the brass horns +sent forth their death-laments proclaiming the greatest of crimes, the +unjust death of a God. Nature did not respond to this traditional +sorrow. The river went purling on beneath the bridges, spreading its +luminous sheet through the silent fields; the orange trees, +incense-givers of the night, opened their thousand white mouths and shed +the fragrance of voluptuous fruit upon the air; the palms waved their +clusters of plumes over the Moorish ramparts of the Alcazar; the +Giralda, a blue phantom, vanished in the heavens, eclipsing stars and +hiding a portion of the sky behind its shapely mass; and the moon, +intoxicated by nocturnal perfumes, seemed to smile at the earth swollen +with the nutrient sap of spring, at the luminous furrow-like streets of +the city in whose ruddy depths swarmed a multitude content just to be +alive, which drank and sang and found a pretext for interminable +feasting in a tragic death of long ago. + +At the door of a _cafe_ stood Nacional with all his family watching the +passing of the brotherhood. "Superstition and ignorance!" But he +followed the custom, coming every year to witness the invasion of +Sierpes Street by the noisy Macarenes. + +He immediately recognized Gallardo by his genteel bearing and the +athletic jauntiness with which he wore the inquisitorial vestment. + +"Juanillo; have the procession stop. There are some foreign ladies in +the _cafe_ who want to get a good look at the Macarena." + +The sacred platform came to a halt; the band played a gay march, one of +those that enlivens the audience at the bull-ring, and immediately the +hidden conductors of the float commenced to raise one leg in unison, +then the other, executing a dance that made the catafalque move with +violent undulations, crowding the people against the walls. The Virgin, +with the burden of her heavy mantle, jewels, flowers, and lanterns, +danced to the music. This exhibition was the result of practice and one +which was the pride of the _Macarenos_. The good youths of the ward, +holding both sides of the float, supported it during this violent +commotion and shouted with enthusiasm at this exhibition of strength and +skill. + +"Let all Seville come to see this! It is great! This only the +_Macarenos_ do!" + +And when the music and the undulations ceased and the float again stood +still there was thunderous applause mingled with impious and vulgar +compliments to the Most Holy Macarena. They shouted _vivas_ to the Most +Holy Macarena, the sainted, the only. + +The brotherhood continued on its triumphal march, leaving stragglers in +every tavern and fallen on every street. The sun, as it rose, surprised +it far from the parish at the extreme opposite side of Seville, made +the jewelled armor on the image scintillate with its first rays, and +lighted up the livid countenances of the Nazarenes who had taken off +their masks. The image and her attendants, overtaken by the dawn, +resembled a dissolute troop returning from an orgy. The two floats were +abandoned in the middle of the street near the market, while the whole +procession took an eye-opener in the nearby taverns, substituting great +glasses of Cazalla and Rute brandy for native wine. The hooded +brethren's white garments were now filthy rags; nothing but miserable +relics remained of the brilliant "Jewish" army which looked as though +returning from a defeat. The captain walked with unsteady step, the +melancholy plumes fallen over his livid countenance, his only thought to +defend his glorious raiment from being rubbed and pulled to pieces. +Respect the uniform! + +Gallardo left the procession soon after sunrise. He had done enough in +accompanying the Virgin all night and surely she would take it into +account. Besides, this last part of the feast, until the Macarena +entered San Gil, now nearly mid-day, was the most disagreeable. The +people who arose fresh and tranquil from sleep jested at the hooded +brethren so ridiculous in the sunlight, dragging along in their +drunkenness and filth. It was not prudent for a matador to be seen with +them. + +Senora Angustias kept watch for him in the courtyard and helped the +Nazarene take off his vestments. He must rest after having fulfilled his +duty to the Virgin. Easter Sunday he was to have a bull-fight; the first +after his accident. Accursed trade! For him rest was impossible, and the +poor women, after a period of tranquillity, saw their old fears and +anguish renewed. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE MASTERY OF SELF-PRESERVATION + + +Saturday and Sunday morning Gallardo received calls from enthusiastic +connoisseurs from outside Seville who had come for the _fiestas_ of Holy +Week and to the Feria. All were smiling, confident of his future +heroism. + +"We'll see how thou'lt stand up! The devotees have their eyes fixed on +thee. How is thy strength?" + +Gallardo did not doubt his vigor. The months spent in the country had +strengthened him. He was now as strong as before he had been gored. The +only thing that made him recall his accident when hunting on the +plantation was a certain weakness in the wounded leg. But this he only +noticed after long trips. + +"I'll do all I know how to do," murmured Gallardo. "I don't think I'll +be altogether bad." + +The manager put in a word with the mad blindness of his faith. + +"Thou'lt flourish like the roses themselves--like an angel." + +Then, forgetting the bull-fight for a moment, they commented on a piece +of news that had just circulated through the city. + +On a mountain in the province of Cordova the civil guard had found a +decomposed body with a head mutilated and almost blown off by a +gun-shot. It was impossible to recognize it, but the clothing, the +carbine, all made them believe it was Plumitas. Gallardo listened in +silence. He had not seen the bandit since his accident, but he +remembered him well. His plantation hands had told him that while he was +in danger Plumitas twice presented himself at La Rinconada to inquire +for his health. Afterward, while living there with his family, herders +and laborers spoke to him several times mysteriously about Plumitas, +who, when he met them on the highway and learned that they were from La +Rinconada, gave them greetings for Senor Juan. Poor man! Gallardo pitied +him, recalling his predictions. The civil guard had not killed him. He +had been assassinated while asleep. He had perished at the hands of one +of his kind, of one of his followers, seeking notoriety. + +Sunday his departure for the plaza was more trying than ever. Carmen +made strong efforts to be calm and was even present while Garabato +dressed the _maestro_. She smiled, with a sad smile; she feigned gayety, +thinking she noticed in her husband an equal anxiety which he also tried +to hide under a forced exhilaration. Senora Angustias paced up and down +outside the room to see her Juan once more, as though she were about to +lose him. When Gallardo went out into the courtyard with his cap on and +his cape over his shoulder the mother threw her arms around his neck, +shedding tears. She did not utter a word, but her heavy sobs revealed +her thoughts. To fight for the first time after his accident, in the +same plaza where he had been gored! The superstition of the woman of the +people rebelled against this foolhardiness. Ah! When would he retire +from the accursed trade? Had he not enough money yet? + +But the brother-in-law intervened with authority as the grave family +counsellor. "Come, _Mamita_, this does not amount to so much--a +bull-fight like all the others! Juan must be left in peace and his +serenity must not be upset by this continual crying just as he is to +start for the plaza." + +Carmen accompanied her husband to the door; she wished to encourage him. +Besides, since her love had been reawakened by the accident and she and +Juan had again been living happily together, she would not believe that +a new misfortune would come to disturb her joy. That goring was an act +of God, who often brings good out of ill, and He wished to draw them +together again by this means. Juan would fight bulls as before and would +come home well and sound. + +"Good luck to thee!" + +With loving eyes she watched the carriage that drove away followed by a +troop of ragamuffins. When the poor woman was left alone she went up to +her room and lighted candles before an image of the Virgin of Hope. + +Nacional rode in the coach at his master's side, frowning and gloomy. +That Sunday was election day, but his companions in the _cuadrilla_ had +not heard of it. The people only talked of Plumitas' death and of the +bull-fight. The _banderillero_ had remained with his fellow committeemen +until past mid-day, "working for the idea." Accursed _corrida_ that came +to interrupt his duties as a good citizen, preventing him from taking to +the polls several friends who would not vote if he did not go for them. +Only "those of the idea" went to the voting places; the city seemed to +ignore the existence of the elections. There were great groups in the +streets arguing passionately; but they only talked of bulls. What +people! Nacional recollected with indignation the schemes and outrages +of the opposition to bring about this neglect of civic duty. Don +Joselito, who had protested with all his forensic eloquence, was in +prison with other companions. The _banderillero_, who would gladly have +shared their martyrdom, had been obliged to abandon them, to put on his +glittering costume and follow his master. Was this outrage to good +citizens to go unrebuked? Would not the people rise in retaliation? + +As the coach passed the vicinity of Campana Street the bull-fighters saw +a great crowd flourishing clubs and heard them shouting. The police, +sabres in hand, were charging upon them, receiving blows and returning +them two for one. + +Ah, at last! The moment had arrived! + +"The revolution! The fight is on!" + +But the _maestro_, half smiling, half angry, pushed him back into his +seat. + +"Don't be a fool, Sebastian; thou seest nothing but revolutions and +hobgoblins everywhere." + +The members of the _cuadrilla_ smiled, divining the fact that it was +only the noble people, angered at not being able to get tickets for the +bull-fight at the office on Campana Street, and who now wanted to attack +and burn it, but were held in check by the police. Nacional sadly hung +his head. + +"Reaction and ignorance! The lack of knowing how to read and write." + +They arrived at the plaza. A noisy ovation, an interminable outburst of +hand-clapping, greeted the appearance of the _cuadrillas_ in the ring. +All the applause was for Gallardo. The public hailed his first +appearance in the arena after the terrible injury that had caused so +much talk all over the Peninsula. + +When the moment came for Gallardo to kill his first bull the explosion +of enthusiasm was repeated. The women in white _mantillas_ watched him +from the boxes with their glasses. On the "bleachers" they applauded and +acclaimed him, as did those in the shade. Even his enemies were won by +this sympathetic impulse. Poor boy! He had suffered so much! The plaza +was all his own. Gallardo had never seen an audience so completely given +over to himself. + +He took off his cap before the president's box to offer his bull. _Ole! +Ole!_ No one heard a word, but all were wild with enthusiasm. He must +have said very fine things. The applause accompanied him when he turned +toward the bull, and hushed in expectant silence when he stood near the +wild beast. He extended the _muleta_, standing planted before the +creature, but at some distance, not as on former occasions, when he had +fired the audience by thrusting the red rag almost into the animal's +eyes. In the silence of the plaza there was a movement of surprise--but +no one spoke. Gallardo stamped the ground several times to incite the +animal, and at last the bull attacked mildly, barely passing beneath the +_muleta_, for the bull-fighter hurriedly moved aside with shameless +precipitation. The people looked at one another in surprise. What was +that? + +The _matador_ saw Nacional at his side and not far off another _peon_ of +the _cuadrilla_, but he did not shout, "Stand aside, everybody!" On the +great tiers of seats a murmur arose, the noise of vehement conversation. +Gallardo's friends thought it well to explain in the name of their +idol. + +"He is not wholly recovered yet. He ought not to fight. That leg--don't +you see it?" + +The two lackeys' capes assisted the swordsman in his _pases_. The animal +moved in confusion between the red cloths and no sooner had he attacked +the _muleta_ than he noticed the cape-work of another bull-fighter, +distracting his attention from the swordsman. Gallardo, as if eager to +get out of the situation quickly, squared himself with his sword held +high, and threw himself upon the bull. + +A murmur of stupefaction followed the stroke. The sword was plunged in +less than a third of its length, and hung vibrating, ready to fall out +of the neck. Gallardo had jumped back from the horns, without burying +his sword down to the hilt as he used to do. + +"But it is well placed!" shouted his partisans, pointing to the sword, +and they applauded clamorously to make up in noise for lack of numbers. + +The "intelligent" smiled with pity. That boy was going to lose the only +notable thing he had--valor, daring. They had seen him bend his arm +instinctively at the moment of walking up to the bull with the sword; +they had seen him turn away his face with that movement of terror that +impels men to close their eyes to hide a danger. + +The sword rolled along the ground and Gallardo, taking another, turned +upon the bull again accompanied by his _peones_. Nacional's cape was +ever ready to be spread out before him, to distract the wild beast; +besides, the bellowing of the _banderillero_ confused the bull and made +him turn whenever he drew near to Gallardo. + +Another thrust of the same kind, more than half of the steel blade +remaining in sight. + +"He doesn't get close!" they began to protest on the tiers of seats. +"He's afraid of the horns!" + +Gallardo extended his arms before the bull, his body making the figure +of the cross, as if giving the audience behind him to understand that +the animal already had enough with that thrust and would fall at any +moment. But the wild beast remained standing, shaking his head from side +to side. + +Nacional, exciting him with the rag, made him run, taking advantage of +every opportunity to beat him on the neck lustily, with all the force of +his arm. The audience, divining his intentions, began to protest. He was +making the animal run so that the motion would work the sword in deeper. +His heavy blows with his cape were to drive in the sword. They called +him a thief; they alluded to his mother with ugly words, impugning the +legitimacy of his birth; menacing clubs waved above the "bleachers" in +the sun; oranges and bottles began to fly into the arena, but he acted +as if deaf and blind to this shower of insults and projectiles, and kept +on chasing the bull with the satisfaction of one who fulfils his duty +and saves a friend. + +Suddenly a stream of blood gushed from the beast's mouth, and he doubled +up his forelegs and knelt motionless but with his head high, ready to +get up and attack. The _puntillero_ came up eager to finish him and get +the _maestro_ out of his embarrassing position. Nacional helped him, +leaning cunningly against the sword and driving it in up to the hilt. +The people in the sun, who saw this manoeuvre, rose to their feet with +angry protest. + +[Illustration: The animal moved in confusion between the red cloths +drawing him far away from the swordsman.] + +"Thief! Assassin!" + +They protested in the name of the poor bull, as though he were not +destined to die at all hazards; they threatened Nacional with their +fists, as though they had witnessed a crime, and the _banderillero_, +with bowed head, finally took refuge behind the barrier. Gallardo, +meanwhile, walked toward the president's box to salute him, and his +undaunted admirers accompanied him with a din of applause. + +"He's had bad luck," they said with ardent faith, refusing to be +undeceived. "But the sword-thrusts, how well aimed! No one can dispute +that." + +Gallardo went and stood an instant before the seats where sat his most +fervent partisans, and leaned against the barrier, making his +explanations. The bull was bad; it was impossible to make a good job of +him. His enthusiasts, Don Jose at their head, assented to these excuses, +which were the same that they themselves had invented. + +During a great part of the bull-fight Gallardo remained on the vaulting +wall of the _barrera_. Such explanations might suffice for his +partisans, but he felt a cruel doubt, a lack of self-confidence, the +like of which he had never known before. The bulls seemed bigger, as if +possessed of _double life_, giving them greater resistance against +death. They used to fall beneath his sword with such miraculous ease. +No, they had let the worst of the herd out for him to disconcert him. An +intrigue of his enemies! Another suspicion dwelt confusedly in the +obscure depths of his mind, but he did not wish to consider it close; he +had no interest in extracting it from its mysterious shade. His arm +seemed shorter the moment he held it before him with the sword. It used +to reach the wild beast's neck with the swiftness of a lightning flash; +now the distance seemed interminable, a terrifying void which he knew +not how to bridge. His legs also seemed to be other and different, to +live apart, with a will of their own, independent of the rest of his +body. In vain he ordered them to remain quiet and firm as before. They +did not obey. They seemed to have eyes, to see the danger, to spring +with unwonted lightness, without the self-control to stand still when +they felt the vibrations of the air stirred by the rush of the wild +beast. + +In the blindness of his rage at his own sudden weakness Gallardo blamed +the public for his mortification. What did these people want?--that he +should let himself be killed to give them pleasure? Signs enough of mad +audacity he bore on his body. He did not need to prove his courage. That +he was alive was due to a miracle, thanks to celestial intervention, to +God's goodness, and to his mother's and his poor little wife's prayers. +He had seen the dry face of Death as few see it, and he knew the worth +of life better than any other. + +"Perhaps you think you're going to take my scalp!" he thought, while he +contemplated the multitude. + +He would fight bulls in future as did many of his friends, some days he +would do it well, others ill. Bull-fighting was nothing but a trade, and +once the highest places were gained the important thing was to live and +keep oneself out of danger as best one could. He was not going to let +himself be caught merely for the pleasure of having the people give +tongue to his courage. + +When the moment came for killing his second bull, these thoughts +inspired a quiet courage within him. No animal should finish him! He +would do all he could without placing himself within reach of the horns. +As he strode up to the wild beast he wore the same arrogant mien as on +his great afternoons. "Stand aside, everybody!" + +The crowd stirred with a murmur of satisfaction. He had said, "Stand +aside, everybody!" He was going to do some of his greatest feats. But +what the public expected did not take place, nor did Nacional cease +walking behind him, his cape over his arm, divining, with the cunning of +an old _peon_ accustomed to bull-fighters' artful tricks, the theatrical +falseness of his master's command. Gallardo held the rag some distance +away from the bull and began to make _pases_ with visible caution, each +time remaining at a good distance from the wild beast and aided always +by Sebastian's cape. + +As he stood an instant with his _muleta_ held low the bull made a +movement as if to charge, but did not stir. The swordsman, excessively +alert, was deceived by this movement and sprang backward, fleeing from +the animal that had not attacked him. This needless retreat placed him +in a ridiculous position and part of the audience laughed, while others +uttered exclamations of surprise. Some hisses were heard. + +"Ouch, he'll catch thee!" shouted an ironic voice. + +"_Sarasa!_" groaned another with effeminate intonation. + +Gallardo reddened with fury. This to him! And in the plaza of Seville! +He felt the bold heart-throb of earlier days and a mad desire to fall +blindly upon the bull and to let happen whatever God willed. But his +body refused to obey him! His arm seemed to think; his legs saw the +danger, mocking the demands of his will with their rebellion! Yet the +audience, resenting the insult, came to his aid and imposed silence. +Treat a man thus who was convalescing from a serious injury! This was +unworthy the plaza of Seville! Let it be seen if there were such a thing +as decency! + +Gallardo made the most of this sympathetic compassion, to extricate +himself from the difficulty. Walking sideways beside the bull, he +stabbed him with a sidelong treacherous plunge. The animal fell like a +slaughter-house beast, a stream of blood gushing out of his mouth. Some +applauded without knowing why, others hissed, and the great mass +remained silent. + +"They have let insidious dogs out to him!" clamored the manager from his +seat, although the _corrida_ was supplied with bulls from the Marquis' +own herd. "Why, those are not bulls! We shall see what he will do the +next time, when he has truly noble beasts." + +Gallardo noted the silence of the crowd as he left the plaza. The groups +near him passed without a greeting, without one of those acclamations +with which they used to receive him on happier afternoons. The miserable +gang that stays outside the plaza awaiting news, and before the finish +of the _corrida_ knows all its incidents, did not even follow the +carriage. + +Gallardo tasted the bitterness of defeat for the first time. Even his +_banderilleros_ rode frowning and silent like soldiers in retreat. But +when he reached home and felt around his neck his mother's arms, +Carmen's, and even his sister's, and his little nephews' caresses as +they hugged his legs, he felt his dejection vanish. Curse it! The +important thing was to live; to keep his family happy; to earn the +public's money as other bull-fighters did without those daring deeds +which sooner or later would cause his death. + +The next few days he felt that he ought to exhibit himself and talk with +his friends in the popular _cafes_ and clubs on Sierpes Street. He +thought he could impose a courteous silence upon his detractors and +prevent comment on his ill success. He spent whole afternoons in the +gatherings of humble admirers he had abandoned long before when seeking +the friendship of the rich. And finally he entered the Forty-five where +the manager imposed his opinions by loud talking and gesticulation, +upholding Gallardo's glory as of old. + +Great Don Jose! His enthusiasm was immovable, bomb-proof! It never +occurred to him that his _matador_ could cease to be all that he had +believed. Not one criticism, not one reproach for his downfall! Instead +he took it upon himself to excuse him, adding to this the consolation of +his good advice. + +"Thou still dost feel thy wound. What I say is, 'You shall see, when he +is quite well, and you will talk differently then.' Thou wilt do as +before--thou wilt walk straight up to the bull, with that courage God +has given thee, and, _zas!_ a stab up to the cross--and thou wilt put +him in thy pocket." + +Gallardo approved with an enigmatical smile. "Put the bulls in his +pocket!" He desired nothing else. But, alas! they had become so big and +unmanageable! They had grown during the time of his absence from the +arena! + +Gambling consoled him and made him forget his troubles. He went back +with fresh passion to losing money over the green table, impelled by +that spirit of youth which was undaunted by lack of luck. One night +they took him to dine at the Eritana Inn where there was a great revel +in honor of three foreign women of the gay life whom some of the young +men had met in Paris. They had come to Seville to see the feasts of Holy +Week and the Feria, and they were eager for the picturesque features of +the country. Their beauty was somewhat faded, but was retouched by the +arts of the toilet. The rich young fellows pursued them, attracted by +their exotic charm, soliciting generous favors which were seldom +refused. They expressed a wish to know a celebrated bull-fighter, one of +the smartest _matadores_, that fine Gallardo whose picture they had so +often looked at in the papers and on match-boxes. After having seen him +in the plaza they had asked their friends to present him. + +The gathering took place in the great dining-room of the Eritana, a +_salon_ opening on the garden with tawdry Moorish decorations, a poor +imitation of the splendors of the Alhambra. Here balls and political +banquets were held. Here they toasted the regeneration of the country +with fervent oratory, and here the charms of the fair sex were displayed +to the rhythm of the _tango_, and the twang-twang of the guitars, while +kisses and screams were heard in the corners, and bottles were uncorked +lavishly. Gallardo was received like a demi-god by the three women who, +ignoring their friends, stared only at him, and disputed for the honor +of sitting beside him, caressing him with the eyes of she-wolves in the +mating season. They reminded him of another--of the absent, the almost +forgotten one--with their golden hair, their elegant gowns, and the +atmosphere of perfumed and tempting flesh which seemed to envelope him +in a swirl of intoxication. + +His comrades' presence further contributed to making this memory more +vivid. They were all Dona Sol's friends; some of them even belonged to +her family and he had looked upon them as relatives. + +They ate and drank with that savage voracity of nocturnal feasts, to +which people go with the fixed intention of excess in everything, taking +refuge in drunkenness as soon as possible to acquire the happiness of +stupidity. + +In one end of the _salon_ some gypsies strummed their guitars, intoning +melancholy songs. One of the foreign women, with the enthusiasm of the +neophyte, sprang upon a table and began to slowly move her well rounded +hips, seeking to imitate the native dances, showing off her progress +after a few days of instruction by a Sevillian teacher. + +"_Asaura! Malaje! Sosa!_" the friends shouted ironically, encouraging +her with rhythmic hand-clappings. + +They jested at her heaviness, but with devouring eyes they admired the +beauty of her body. And she, proud of her art, taking these +incomprehensible calls for enthusiastic praise, went on moving her hips +and raised her arms above her head like the handles of a jar, with her +gaze aloft. + +After midnight they were all drunk. The women, lost to shame, besieged +the swordsman with their admiring glances. He impassively let himself be +managed by the hands that disputed for him, while lips surprised him +with burning kisses on his cheeks and neck. He was drunk, but his +drunkenness was sad. Ah! the other woman! The true blonde! The gold of +these unbound locks that floated around him was artificial, gilded by +chemicals applied to coarse strong hair. The lips had a flavor of +perfumed ointment. Through the aroma his imagination detected an odor +of vulgarity. Ah! the other one! the other one! + +Gallardo, without knowing how, found himself in the gardens, beneath the +solemn silence that seemed to fall from the stars, among arbors of +luxurious vegetation, following a tortuous path, seeing the dining-room +windows through the foliage illuminated like mouths of Hell before which +passed and repassed shadows like black demons. A woman was dragging him +by the arm, and he let himself be taken, without even seeing her, with +his thoughts far, far away. + +An hour afterwards he returned to the dining-room. His companion, her +hair disordered, her eyes brilliant and hostile, was talking with her +friends. They laughed and pointed him out with a deprecatory gesture to +the other men, who laughed also--Ah! Spain! Land of disillusion, where +all was but legend, even to the prowess of her heroes! + +Gallardo drank more and more. The women who had quarrelled over him, +besieging him with their caresses, turned their backs on him, falling +into the arms of the other men. The guitarists scarcely played; +surfeited with wine, they leaned over their instruments in pleasant +drowsiness. + +The bull-fighter also was going to sleep on a bench when one of his +friends, who was obliged to retire before his mother, the countess, +arose, as she did every day to attend mass at daybreak, offered to take +him home in his carriage. The night wind did not dissipate the +bull-fighter's intoxication. When the friend left him at the corner of +his street Gallardo walked with vacillating step in the direction of his +home. Near the door he stopped, grasping the wall with both hands and +resting his head on his arms as if he could not bear the weight of his +thoughts. + +He had completely forgotten his friends, the supper at Eritana, and the +three painted foreign women who had quarrelled for him and then insulted +him. Something remained in his memory of the other one, ever there, but +indefinite and vague! Now his mind, by one of those capricious bounds of +intoxication, reverted wholly to bull-fighting. He was the greatest +_matador_ in the world. _Ole!_ So his manager and his friends declared, +and it was true. His adversaries should see something when he went back +to the plaza. What happened the other day was simple carelessness; Bad +Luck that had played one of her tricks on him. + +Proud of the omnipotent strength that intoxication communicated to him +at the moment, he saw all the Andalusian and Castilian bulls transformed +into weak goats that he could overthrow with but a blow from his hand. +What occurred the other day was nothing--_liquid!_ as Nacional said. The +best singer lets slip a false note now and then. + +And this aphorism, learned from the mouths of venerable patriarchs of +the bull-fighting profession on afternoons of misfortune, stimulated him +with an irresistible desire to sing, and he filled the silence of the +solitary street with his voice. With his head resting on his arms he +began to hum a strophe of his own composition which was an extravagant +hymn of praise to his own merits. "I am Juaniyo Gallardo--with more +c--c--courage than God." Not being able to improvise more in his own +honor, he repeated the same words over and over in a hoarse and +monotonous voice that broke the silence and set an invisible dog down +the street to barking. + +It was the paternal heritage revived in him; the singing mania that +accompanied Senor Juan the cobbler on his weekly drunken rounds. + +The house door opened and Garabato, still half asleep, thrust out his +head to see the drunken man, whose voice he thought he recognized. + +"Ah! Is it thou?" said the _matador_. "Wait till I sing the last one." + +He repeated the incomplete song in honor of his valor several times, +until he finally decided to enter the house. He felt no desire to go to +bed. Divining his condition, he put off the moment of going up to his +room where Carmen awaited him, perhaps awake. + +"Go to sleep, Garabato. I have a great deal to do." + +He did not know what, but his office, with its decoration of +vainglorious pictures, favors won in the bull-ring, and posters that +proclaimed his fame, attracted him. + +When the globes of electric light illuminated the room and the servant +went out, Gallardo stood in the centre of the office, vacillating on his +legs, casting a glance of admiration around the walls, as if he +contemplated this museum of glory for the first time. + +"Very good, but very good!" he murmured. "That fine fellow is me; and +that one too, and all! And yet there are some people that talk against +me! Curse it! I'm the greatest man in the world! Don Jose says so, and +he tells the truth." + +He threw his hat upon the divan as if he were taking off a crown of +glory that oppressed his forehead, and staggered over to the desk, +leaning against it, his gaze fixed on an enormous bull's head that +adorned the wall at the lower end of the office. + +"Hello! Good-evening, my good boy! What art thou pretending to do there? +Moo! Moo!" + +He greeted him with bellowings, childishly imitating the lowing of the +bulls in the pasture and in the plaza. He did not recognize him; he +could not remember why the hairy head with its threatening horns was +there. Gradually he began to recollect. + +"I know thee, boy! I remember how thou madest me rage that afternoon. +The people hissed, they threw bottles at me, they even insulted my poor +mother, and thou, so gay, what fun thou hadst!--eh?--shameless beast!" + +In his intoxicated state he thought he saw the varnished muzzle and the +light in the glass eyes tremble with laughter. He even imagined that the +horns moved the head, assenting to this question, with an undulation of +the hanging neck. + +The drunken man, until then smiling and good natured, felt his anger +rise with the recollection of that afternoon of misfortune. And even +that evil beast smiled? Those wicked, crafty, scheming bulls, which +seemed to jest at the combatant, were to blame when a man was ridiculed. +Ah! how Gallardo detested them! What a look of hatred he fastened on the +glass eyes of the horned head! + +"Still laughing? Damn thee, _guason!_ Cursed be the cow that bore thee +and thy thief of a master that gave thee grass in his pasture! I hope +he's in prison. Still laughing? Still making faces at me?" + +In his fury he leaned his body on the table stretching out his arms and +opening the drawers. Then he stood erect, raising one hand toward the +horned head. + +Bang! bang! Two shots from a revolver. + +A glass globe in the hollow of one eye burst into tiny fragments and a +round black hole, circled by singed hair, opened in the forehead. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +THE SPANISH LILITH + + +With the extreme violence characteristic of the changeable and erratic +climate of Madrid in the midspring the temperature gave a jump +backwards. + +It was cold. The gray sky was lavish of terrific rains, accompanied +sometimes by flakes of snow. The people, already dressed in light +clothing, opened wardrobes and chests to get out wraps and overcoats. +The rain blackened and ruined the white spring hats. + +No functions had been given in the bull plaza for two weeks. The Sunday +_corrida_ was postponed until a week-day when the weather should be +fine. The management, the employees of the plaza, and the innumerable +devotees whom this forced suspension cast into an ill humor, watched the +firmament with the anxiety of the peasant who fears for his crops. A +clearing in the sky, or the appearance of a few stars at midnight when +they left the _cafes_, made them cheerful again. + +"It's going to clear up--bull-fight day after to-morrow." + +But the clouds gathered again, the dark gloomy weather with its +continual rain persisted, and the devotees of the game grew indignant at +a climate that seemed to have declared war on the national sport. +Unhappy country! Even bull-fights were becoming impossible in it! + +Gallardo had spent two weeks in enforced rest. His _cuadrilla_ +complained of the inactivity. In any other town in Spain the +bull-fighters would have endured this lack of work resignedly. The +_matador_ paid their board in the hotels everywhere except in Madrid. It +was a bad rule established long ago by the _maestros_ who lived in the +capital. It was assumed that all bull-fighters must have their own home +in the court city. And the poor lackeys and _picadores_, who lived at a +miserable boarding-house kept by the widow of a _banderillero_, cut down +their living by all manner of economies, smoking little and standing in +the doors of _cafes_. They thought of their families with the longing of +men who in exchange for their blood receive but a handful of _pesetas_. +When the two bull-fights were over the proceeds from them would already +be eaten up. + +The _matador_ was equally ill-humored in the solitude of his hotel, not +because of the weather, but rather on account of his poor luck. He had +fought his first _corrida_ in Madrid with a deplorable result. The +public had changed toward him. He still had partisans of dauntless faith +who were strong in his defence; but these enthusiasts, noisy and +aggressive a year ago, now showed a certain indifference, and when they +found occasion to applaud him they did so with timidity. On the other +hand, his enemies and that great mass of the public that look for +dangers and deaths,--how unjust in their condemnations! How bold in +insulting him! What they tolerated in other _matadores_ they prohibited +in him. + +With the eagerness of a celebrity who feels that he is losing prestige, +Gallardo exhibited himself prodigally in the places frequented by the +devotees of the game. He went into the Cafe Ingles, where the partisans +of the Andalusian bull-fighters gather, and by his presence prevented +implacable commentaries being heaped upon his name. He himself, smiling +and modest, started the conversation with a humility that disarmed the +most hostile. + +"It's true I didn't do well; I know it. But you will see at the next +bull-fight, when the weather clears up. What can be done will be done." + +He dared not enter certain _cafes_ near the Puerta del Sol, where other +devotees of a more modest class gathered. They were the enemies of +Andalusian bull-fighting, genuine _Madrilenos_, embittered by the unfair +prevalence of _matadores_ from Cordova and Seville, while the capital +had not a single glorious representative. The memory of Frascuelo, whom +they considered a son of Madrid, was perpetuated in these gatherings +like the veneration of a miraculous saint. There were among them some +who for many years had not gone to the plaza, not since the Negro +retired. Why go? They contented themselves by reading the reviews in the +newspapers, convinced that there were no bulls, nor even bull-fighters, +since Frascuelo's death--Andalusian boys, nothing else; dancers who made +monkey-shines with their capes and bodies without knowing what it was to +_receive_ a bull. + +Occasionally a breath of hope circulated among them. Madrid was going to +have a great _matador_. They had just discovered a bullock fighter, a +son of the suburbs, who, after covering himself with glory in the plazas +of Vallecas and Tetuan, worked in the great plaza Sundays in cheap +bull-fights. + +His name became popular. In the barber-shops in the lesser wards they +talked of him with enthusiasm, prophesying great triumphs. The hero went +from tavern to tavern drinking and increasing the nucleus of his +partisans. + +But time passed and their prophecies remained unfulfilled. Either this +hero fell with a mortal horn wound, with no other recognition of his +glory than four lines in the newspapers, or another subsided after a +goring, becoming one of the many tramps who exhibit the _coleta_ at the +Puerta del Sol, waiting for imaginary contracts. Then the devotees +turned their eyes on other beginners, expecting with an Hebraic faith +the coming of the _matador_ glory to Madrid. + +Gallardo dared not go near these tauromachic demagogues who had always +hated him and hailed his decadence. The majority of them did not go to +see him in the ring, nor did they admire the present-day bull-fighters. +They were waiting for their Messiah before deciding to return to the +plaza. + +When he wandered at nightfall through the centre of Madrid near the +Puerta del Sol and Seville Street, he allowed himself to be accosted by +the vagabonds of the profession who form groups at these places, +boasting of their achievements. They were youths who greeted him as +"_maestro_," or "Senor Juan"; many with a hungry air, leading up to a +petition for a few _pesetas_, but well dressed, clean, spick and span, +adopting gallant airs, as if they were surfeited with the pleasures of +existence, and wearing a scandalous display of brass in rings and +imitation chains. Some were honorable fellows who were trying to make +their way in tauromachy to maintain their families on something more +than the workman's daily wage. Others, less scrupulous, had female +friends who worked at unmentionable occupations, willing to sacrifice +their bodies to support and keep decent some fine fellow, who, to +believe his words, would sometime be a celebrity. + +Without other belongings than the clothes they wore they strutted from +morning till night in the centre of Madrid, talking about the contracts +they had not cared to make, and spying on one another to find out who +had money and could treat his comrades. When one, by a capricious turn +of luck, managed to get a fight of young bullocks in some place in the +province, he first had to redeem his glittering costume from a pawn +shop--venerable and tarnished garments that had belonged to various +heroes of the past. + +Among this tauromachic crowd, embittered by misfortune, and kept in +obscurity through stupidity or fear, there were men who commanded +general respect. One who fled before the bulls was feared for the skill +with which he used his knife. Another had been in prison for killing a +man with his fist. The famous _Swallow-hats_ enjoyed the honors of +celebrity since one afternoon when, in a tavern at Vallecas, he ate a +Cordovan felt hat torn into pieces and fried, with wine at discretion to +make the mouthfuls go down. + +Some, suave mannered, always well dressed and freshly shaved, fastened +themselves upon Gallardo, accompanying him on his walks in the hope that +he would invite them to dine. Others with an arrogant look in their bold +eyes entertained the swordsman gayly with the relation of their +adventures. + +On sunny mornings they went to the Castellana in search of game, when +the governesses of the great houses take the children out for an airing. +These were English misses or German _frauleins_, who had just come to +Madrid with their heads filled with picturesque ideas about this land of +legend, and when they saw a young fellow with shaven face and broad hat, +they immediately imagined him to be a bull-fighter--a bull-fighter +lover--how fine! + +"They are girls as insipid as bread without salt, you know, _maestro_. +Big feet and hempen hair, but they have their good points, you bet they +have! As they scarcely catch on to what one says to them, they're all +smiles, showing their teeth, which are very white. And they open their +big eyes wide. They don't talk Christian but they understand when one +makes signs of asking a tip, and as one is a gentleman and is always +lucky, they give money for tobacco and other things--and one manages to +live. I have three on hand now." + +The speaker boasted of his indefatigable cleverness which absorbed the +savings of the governesses. + +Others devoted themselves to the foreign women of the music-halls, +dancers and singers who came to Spain with the desire of immediately +experiencing the joys of having a bull-fighter lover. They were lively +French women, with snub noses and straight corsets, so spiritually +slender there seemed to be nothing tangible under their perfumed and +rustling, cabbage-like, crimpled skirts; German girls with solid flesh, +heavy, imposing, and blonde as Valkyries; Italians with black, oily +hair, with a greenish brown complexion and a tragic air. + +The young bull-fighters laughed, recollecting their first private +interviews with these devout enthusiasts. The foreign woman was always +afraid of being deceived, dreading to find that her legendary hero was +but an ordinary man. Really, was he a bull-fighter? And they looked for +his queue, smiling complacently at their wit when they felt the hairy +appendage in their fingers, which was equivalent to a certificate of +identification. + +"You know what these women are, _maestro_. They spend the whole evening +kissing and caressing the _coleta_. To entertain them one has to jump up +and perform in the middle of the room and explain how bulls are fought, +turning over a chair, doing cape-work with a sheet, and lodging +_banderillas_ with the fingers. Holy Sea! And then, as they are girls +who go about the world dragging money out of every Christian that comes +near them, they begin their begging in their broken Spanish that even +God himself couldn't understand: 'Bull-fighter sweetheart, wilt thou +give me one of thy capes, all embroidered in gold, to wear when I come +on to dance?' You see, _maestro_, how greedy these girls are. As if one +bought capes as freely as newspapers. As if one had oceans of them--!" + +The young bull-fighter promised the cape with generous arrogance. All +bull-fighters are rich. And while the gorgeous gift was on the way, they +became more intimate, and the lover asked loans of his friend, who, if +she did not have money, pawned a jewel; and he, growing bolder, began +helping himself to anything that lay within reach of his hand. When she +happened to awaken from her amorous dream, protesting at such liberties, +the fine fellow demonstrated the vehemence of his passion and returned +the loans to her legendary hero in the form of a beating. + +Gallardo enjoyed this tale, particularly when he heard the last part. + +"Aha! thou doest well!" he said with savage joy. "Be firm with those +girls. Thou knowest them. Thus they love thee more! The worst thing a +Christian can do is to humble himself before certain women. Man must +make himself respected." + +He ingenuously admired the lack of scruple in these youths who lived by +levying a contribution on the illusions of passing foreign women, and he +pitied himself thinking of his weakness before a certain one. + +At sunset, one afternoon, the swordsman on entering Alcala Street from +the Puerta del Sol, stopped, struck by surprise. A blonde lady was +getting out of a carriage at the door of the Hotel de Paris. A man who +looked like a foreigner gave her his hand, assisting her to alight, and +after speaking a few words he drove away while she went into the hotel. + +It was Dona Sol. The bull-fighter did not doubt her identity. Neither +did he doubt the relations that united her to the foreigner after seeing +her glances and the smile with which they said farewell. Thus she used +to look at him, thus she used to smile at him in those happy days when +they rode together in the deserted fields illuminated by the soft +rose-color of the setting sun--"Curse it!" + +He spent the evening in ill-humor in the company of some friends; then +he slept badly, many scenes of the past being reproduced in his dreams. +When he rose the dark and livid light of a gloomy day entered through +the balconies. It was raining, the water drops mingled with flakes of +snow. Everything was black; the sky, the walls opposite, a dripping +gable within view, the muddy pavement, the roofs of the coaches shining +like mirrors, the movable cupolas of the umbrellas. + +Eleven o'clock! Should he go to see Dona Sol? Why not! The night before +he had put aside this thought with a rush of anger. That would be to +humble himself. She had run away from him without any explanation +whatever, and later, when she heard of his being wounded unto death, she +had scarcely interested herself in his health. A simple telegram at +first and nothing more, not even a poor letter of a few lines; she, who +with such ease wrote to her friends. No; he would not go to see her. He +was very proud. + +But the next morning his determination seemed to have softened during +the night. "Why not?" he asked himself. He must see her again. For him +she was first among all the women he had ever known; she attracted him +with a force different from the affection he felt for others. "I have a +right to her," the bull-fighter said to himself, realizing his weakness. +Ah! how he had felt the violent separation! + +The atrocious goring in the plaza of Seville, with the rigor of physical +pain, had softened the force of his amorous torment. Illness, and then +his tender reinstatement in the good graces of Carmen during +convalescence, had made him resigned to his fate. But forget? Never! He +had made every effort not to think of the past, but the most +insignificant circumstance--passing along a road on which he had +galloped with the beautiful Amazon; meeting on the street an English +blonde; contact with those young Sevillian gentlemen who were her +relatives, all resurrected the image of Dona Sol. Ah, this woman! He +would never find another like her. When he lost her, Gallardo believed +the decadence of his life had begun. He was no longer the same. He +deemed himself many steps lower in social consideration. He even +attributed his downfall in his art to this abandonment. When he had her +he was more valiant. When the blonde girl fled bad luck had begun for +the bull-fighter. If she would return to him, surely the sun of his +glory would rise again. His spirit, at times sustained, at others +weakened by the mirage of superstition, believed this firmly. + +Perhaps his desire to see her might stir again a joyful heart-throb, +like that which had often saved him in the ring. Why not? He had great +confidence in himself. His easy triumphs with women dazzled by his +success made him believe in the irresistible charm of his person. It +might be that Dona Sol, seeing him after a long absence--who could tell! +The first time they were alone it happened so. + +And Gallardo, trusting in his lucky star, with the arrogant tranquillity +of a man of fortune, who necessarily must awaken desire wherever his +gaze falls, marched over to the Hotel de Paris, which was situated a +short distance from his own. + +He had to wait more than half an hour subjected to the curious gaze of +employees and guests who turned their faces on hearing his name. + +A servant invited him to enter the elevator and conducted him to a +little _salon_ on the next floor from which the Puerta del Sol could be +seen with the black roofs of the houses opposite, the pavements +concealed beneath the meeting streams of umbrellas, and the shining +asphalt of the plaza furrowed by swift coaches, which seemed to whip +the rain, or by tram cars that crossed in every direction and rang an +incessant warning to the foot passengers. + +A little door concealed by hangings opened and Dona Sol appeared, amid a +rustling of silk, and a sweet perfume of fresh pink flesh, in all the +splendor of the summer of her existence. + +Gallardo devoured her with his eyes, inspecting her with the exactitude +of one who knew her well and did not forget details. + +Just as she was in Seville! No--more beautiful, if possible, with the +added temptation of a long absence. + +She presented herself in elegant abandon, wearing an odd costume with +strange jewels, as he first saw her in her house in Seville. Her feet +were thrust into slippers covered with heavy gold embroideries which, +when she sat down and crossed her limbs, hung loose, ready to fall off +her pointed toes. She extended him her hand, smiling with amiable +frigidity. + +"How are you, Gallardo? I knew you were in Madrid. I have seen you." + +You! She no longer used the _thou_ of the great lady, to which he had +responded with respectful courtesy as her lover in a class beneath. This +_you_ that seemed to put them on a level drove the swordsman to despair. +He wished to be a kind of serf, elevated by love to the great lady's +arms, and he found himself treated with the cold and courteous +consideration which an ordinary friend inspires. + +She explained that she had attended the only bull-fight Gallardo had +given in Madrid and had seen him there. She had gone to see the bulls +with a foreigner who desired a glimpse of things Spanish; a friend who +accompanied her on her travels but who lived in another hotel. + +Gallardo responded to this with an affirmative movement of the head. He +remembered the foreigner; he had seen him with her. + +The two fell into a long silence, not knowing what to say. Dona Sol was +the first to break the pause. + +She found the bull-fighter looking well; she vaguely recollected about a +great wound he had received; she was almost certain of having +telegraphed to Seville, asking for news of him. With the life she lived, +with continual change of country and new friendships, her thoughts were +in such confusion! But he appeared now as usual, and in the _corrida_ he +had seemed to her arrogant and strong, although rather unlucky. She did +not understand much about bulls. "Was it nothing, that goring?" + +Gallardo was irritated by the accent of indifference with which the +woman asked the question. And he, when he considered himself between +life and death, had thought only of her! + +With the gloom of dismay he told her about his being caught, and of his +convalescence which had lasted all winter. + +She listened to him with feigned interest, while her eyes revealed +indifference. The misfortunes of the gladiator were of no importance to +her. They were accidents of his trade which could only be of interest to +him. + +Gallardo, as he spoke of his convalescence at the plantation, thought of +the man he and Dona Sol had met together there. "And Plumitas? Do you +remember that poor fellow? He was killed. I don't know whether you +heard about it." + +Dona Sol also vaguely remembered this. Possibly she had read it in the +Paris newspapers, which printed a great deal about the bandit as an +interesting type of picturesque Spain. + +"Poor man," said Dona Sol with indifference. "I barely recall him as a +clownish and uninteresting rustic. At a distance things are seen at +their true values. What I do remember is the day he breakfasted with us +at the farmhouse." + +Gallardo had not forgotten this event. Poor Plumitas! With what emotion +he took the flower offered by Dona Sol! Did she not remember? + +Dona Sol's eyes showed sincere astonishment. + +"Are you sure?" she asked. "Is that so? I swear I remember nothing about +it. Ah! that land of the sun! The intoxication of the picturesque! The +follies one commits!" + +Her exclamations, revealed a vague repentance. Then she began to laugh. + +"And maybe that poor rustic kept the flower until his last moment; no, +Gallardo? Don't tell me he did not. Perhaps no one ever gave him a +flower before in all his life. And it is possible also they found that +dried flower on his dead body, a mysterious token no one could explain. +Don't you know anything about it, Gallardo? Didn't the newspapers +mention it? Hush; don't tell me no; don't dispel my illusions. It must +have been so; I want it to be so. Poor Plumitas! How interesting! And I +had forgotten all about the flower! I will tell my friend, who thinks he +will write on things Spanish." + +The recollection of this friend, who within a few minutes was brought +into the conversation for a second time, depressed the bull-fighter. + +He sat gazing steadily at the beautiful lady with a tearful melancholy +in his Moorish eyes which seemed to implore compassion. + +"Dona Sol! Dona Sol!" he murmured with an accent of despair, as if he +would reproach her for her cruelty. + +"What is it, my friend?" she asked smiling. "What is the matter with +you?" + +Gallardo kept silence and bowed his head, intimidated by the ironic +reflection in those blue eyes, sparkling with their tiny flakes of gold. + +After a moment he sat erect as does one who adopts a resolution. + +"Where have you been all this time, Dona Sol?" + +"Travelling about the world," she answered simply. "I am a bird of +passage. In innumerable cities whose very names you do not know." + +"And that foreigner who accompanies you now--is--?" + +"He is a friend," she said coldly. "A friend who has had the kindness to +accompany me, taking advantage of the opportunity to see Spain; a fine +man who bears an illustrious name. From here we go to Andalusia when he +gets through seeing the museums. What more do you desire to know?" + +In that question, asked with hauteur, an imperious intention of keeping +the bull-fighter at a distance was apparent, of establishing social +differences between the two. Gallardo was disconcerted. + +"Dona Sol!" he moaned with ingenuousness. "God cannot forgive what you +have done to me! You have been unkind to me, very unkind. Why did you +run away without a word?" + +His eyes moistened, he clenched his fists in desperation. + +"Don't act so, Gallardo. What I did was a great favor to you. Don't you +know me well enough yet? Did you not weary of that affair? If I were a +man I would run away from women of my character. The unhappy man who +falls in love with me is a suicide." + +"But why did you go?" insisted Gallardo. + +"I went because I was bored. Do I speak clearly? And when a woman is +bored, I believe she has a right to escape in search of new diversions. +I am bored to death everywhere; pity me." + +"But I love you with all my soul!" exclaimed the bull-fighter with a +dramatic and ingenuous expression that would have been ridiculous in +another man. + +"I love you with all my soul!" repeated Dona Sol imitating his accent +and gesture. "And what of that? Ah, these egotistical men, who are +applauded by the people and imagine that everything has been created for +them. 'I love thee with all my soul and therefore thou must love me +also'--But no, _senor_. I do not love you, Gallardo. You are my friend +and nothing more. That affair in Seville was a dream, a mad caprice, +which I barely recollect and which you should forget." + +The bull-fighter rose, drawing near Dona Sol with extended hands. In his +ignorance he did not know what to say, divining that his rude words were +inefficient to convince that woman. He trusted his desires and hopes to +action, with the vehemence of an impulsive man, intending to overpower +the woman, to attract her and dispel by contact the chill which +separated them. + +"Dona Sol!" he supplicated, grasping her hands. + +But she, with a simple turn of her agile right hand, disengaged herself +from the bull-fighter. A flash of pride and anger darted from her eyes +and she bent forward aggressively, as if she had suffered an insult. + +"Silence, Gallardo! If you go on thus you will not be my friend and I +will show you the door." + +The bull-fighter's attitude changed to one of despair; he was humbled +and ashamed. + +"Don't be a baby," she said. "Why remember what is no longer possible? +Why think of me? You have your wife, who, I hear, is pretty and simple; +a good companion. And if not she, there are others. Think how many +clever girls you can find there in Seville, those who wear the +_mantilla_, with flowers in their hair, those that used to please me so +much, who would think it a joy to be loved by Gallardo. My infatuation +is over. It hurts your pride, being a famous man accustomed to success; +but so it is; it's over; friend and nothing more. I am changed. I have +become bored and I never retrace my steps. My illusions last but a short +time and pass, leaving no trace. I deserve pity, believe me." + +She gazed at the bull-fighter with eyes of commiseration, with pitying +curiosity, as if she suddenly saw him in all his defects and crudeness. + +"I think things that you could not understand," she continued. "You seem +to me changed. The Gallardo of Seville was different from the one here. +Are you really the same person? I do not doubt it, yet to me you are a +different man. How can I explain it to you? Once I met a rajah in +London. Do you know what a rajah is?" + +Gallardo negatively shook his head blushing at his ignorance. + +"It is an Indian prince." + +The old-time ambassadress recalled the Hindoo magnate, his coppery face +shaded by a black beard, his enormous white turban with a great dazzling +diamond above his forehead and the rest of his body enwrapped in white +vestments of thin and innumerable veils, like the petals of a flower. + +"He was handsome, he was young, he adored me with the mysterious eyes of +an animal of the forest, but he seemed to me ridiculous, and I jested at +him every time he stammered one of his Oriental compliments in English. +He shook with cold, the fogs made him cough, he moved around like a bird +in the rain, waving his veils as if they were wet wings. When he talked +to me of love, gazing at me with his moist gazelle-like eyes, I longed +to buy him an overcoat and a cap, so that he would not shake any longer. +However, I realized that he was handsome and could have been the joy, +for quite a few months, of a woman desirous of something extraordinary. +It was a question of atmosphere, of scene. You, Gallardo, do you know +what that is?" + +And Dona Sol remained pensive, recalling the poor rajah always shaking +with cold in his absurd vestments amid the foggy light of London. In her +imagination she beheld him there in his own country transfigured by the +majesty of power and by the light of the sun, his coppery complexion, +with the greenish reflexions of the tropical vegetation, taking on a +tone of artistic bronze. She saw him mounted on his elephant on parade, +with long golden hangings that swept the ground, escorted by warlike +horsemen and slaves bearing censers with perfumes, his great turban +crowned with white feathers set with precious stones, his bosom covered +with breast-plates of diamonds, his waist bound by a belt of emeralds, +from which hung a golden scimitar; she saw him surrounded by bayaderes +with painted eyes and firm breasts, forests of lances, and, in the +background, pagodas with multiple roofs one above another, with little +bells that chimed mysterious symphonies at the slightest whisper of the +breeze; palaces of more mystery; dense thickets in whose shadows leaped +and growled ferocious multicolored animals. Ah, atmosphere! Seeing the +poor rajah thus, proud as a god, beneath an arid sky of intense blue, +and in the splendor of an ardent sun, it would never have occurred to +her to present him with an overcoat. It was almost certain that she +herself might have fallen into his arms giving herself up as a serf of +love. + +"You remind me of the rajah, friend Gallardo. There in Seville, in your +native costume, with the lance over your shoulder, you were all right. +You were a complement to the landscape. But here! Madrid has become very +much Europeanized; it is a city like others. Native costumes are no +longer worn. Manila shawls are seldom seen off the stage. Don't be +offended, Gallardo; but I don't know why you remind me of the rajah." + +She looked through the windows at the wet ground and the rainy sky, at +the scattering flakes of snow, and the crowd that moved with accelerated +step under the dripping umbrellas. Then she turned her gaze on the +swordsman, stared strangely at the braid hanging from his head, at the +way his hair was combed, at his hat, at all the details that revealed +his profession, which contrasted with his elegant and modern costume. + +The bull-fighter was--in Dona Sol's opinion--out of his element. Ah, +this Madrid; rainy and dismal! Her friend who had come with the illusion +of a Spain of eternal blue sky, was disappointed. She herself, seeing on +the walk near the hotel the groups of young bull-fighters in gallant +attitudes, inevitably thought of exotic animals brought from sunny +countries to zoological gardens beneath a rainy sky in a gray light. +There in Andalusia Gallardo was the hero, the spontaneous product of a +cattle country. Here he seemed to her a comedian, with his shaven face +and the stage manners of one accustomed to public homage; a comedian who +instead of speaking dialogues with his equals awoke the tragic thrill in +combat with wild beasts. + +Ah! The seductive mirage of the lands of the sun! The deceitful +intoxication of light and color! And she had been able to love that +rough, uncouth fellow a few months, she had extolled the crudities of +his ignorance, and she had even demanded that he should not abandon his +habits, that he should smell of bulls and horses, so as not to dispel +with perfumes the odors of wild animals that enveloped his person! Ah, +atmosphere! To what mad deeds it drives one! + +She remembered the danger in which she had stood of being killed by a +bull's horns; then the breakfast with a bandit, to whom she had listened +speechless with admiration and in the end had given a flower. What +nonsense! And how far away it seemed now! + +Nothing remained of this past which caused her to feel repentance for +its absurdity except that lusty youth motionless before her with his +supplicating eyes and his infantile effort to resurrect those days. Poor +man! As if the madness could be repeated when one thinks calmly, and +illusion, blind enchantress of life, has vanished! + +"It is all over," said the lady. "The past must be forgotten, now that +looking back it does not appear in the same colors. What would I not +give to have the eyes I used to have! On returning to Spain I find it +changed. You also are different. It even seemed to me the other day, +seeing you in the plaza, that you were less daring--that the people were +less enthusiastic." + +She said this simply, without malice, but Gallardo imagined he divined +in her voice a trace of mockery; he bowed his head and his cheeks +reddened. + +"Curse it!" Professional worries surged through his mind. Everything +that happened was because he no longer got _close_ to the bulls. She had +said it plainly. He seemed to her a different man. If he became the +Gallardo of former times perhaps she would receive him better. Women +love none but the brave. + +The bull-fighter deceived himself with these illusions, taking what was +a caprice, dead forever, for a momentary aversion that he could conquer +by force of prowess. + +Dona Sol arose. The call had been long and the bull-fighter did not seem +disposed to go; he was content to be near her, vaguely trusting to +circumstance to draw them together. But he was obliged to imitate her. +She excused herself, pleading an engagement. She was expecting her +friend; they were going together to the Prado Gallery. + +Then she invited him to breakfast the next morning; a quiet breakfast in +her apartments. Her friend would also come. Undoubtedly it would be a +pleasure to him to see a bull-fighter at close range. He scarcely spoke +Spanish but he would be pleased to meet Gallardo. + +The swordsman pressed her hand, answering with incoherent words, and +left the room. Fury clouded his vision; his ears buzzed. + +Thus she bade him good-bye--coldly, as she would an occasional friend. +And that was the same woman he had known in Seville! And she invited him +to breakfast with her friend who would amuse himself by examining him +close at hand, as if he were a rare beast. + +Curse it! He was a brave man. He was done. He would never go to see her +again. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +BEHIND THE SCENES + + +Just at that time Gallardo received several letters from Don Jose and +from Carmen. The manager tried to encourage his _matador_, counselling +him to walk straight up to the bulls--"_Zas!_ a thrust and thou wilt put +him in thy pocket." But underlying his enthusiasm a certain depression +might be detected, as if his faith were dwindling and he had begun to +doubt that Gallardo was "the greatest man in the world." He knew of the +discontent and hostility with which the public received him. The last +bull-fight in Madrid disheartened Don Jose completely. No; Gallardo was +not like other swordsmen who went on in spite of public derision, +satisfied with earning money. His _matador_ had bull-fighter pride and +could only show himself in the ring to advantage when received with +great enthusiasm. + +Don Jose pretended to understand what ailed his swordsman. Want of +courage? Never. He would suffer death before he would recognize this +defect in his hero. It was because he was tired, because he was not yet +recovered from his goring. "And so," he advised in all his letters, "it +would be better for thee to retire and rest a season. Afterward thou +wilt fight again like thine old self." He offered to arrange everything. +A doctor's certificate was enough to certify his temporary weakness, +and the manager would settle with the plaza impresarios to arrange the +pending contracts by sending a _matador_ from the beginners' ranks, who +would substitute Gallardo for a modest sum. They would still make money +by this arrangement. + +Carmen was more vehement in her petitions. He must retire immediately; +he must "cut his queue." She was more afraid now than in the first years +of her married life, when the bull-fights and the fearful suspense +seemed to her conditions of existence that destroyed her peace of mind. +Her heart told her, with that feminine instinct seldom mistaken in its +forebodings, that something grave was going to happen. She scarcely +slept; she dreaded the night hours, broken as they were by sanguinary +visions. She waxed furious at the public in her letters--a crowd of +ingrates who forgot what the bull-fighter had done when he was himself; +evil-minded people who wished to see him die for their diversion, as +though she did not exist, as though he had no mother. "Juan, _Mamita_ +and I ask it of thee. Retire. Why go on bull-fighting? We have enough to +live on and it pains me to have to see thee insulted by people who are +beneath thee. And if another accident should happen--Heavens!--I believe +I should go mad." + +Gallardo remained thoughtful after reading these letters. Retire! What +nonsense! Women's notions! They could say this easily on the impulse of +affection, but it was impossible. "Cut his queue" at thirty! How his +enemies would laugh! He had no right to retire while his members were +sound and he could fight. Such an absurd thing had never happened. Money +was not all. How about glory? And professional pride? What would the +thousands and thousands of enthusiastic partisans who admired him say of +him? What answer would they make to the enemies who threw it in their +faces that Gallardo had retired through cowardice? + +Moreover, the _matador_ stopped to consider whether his fortune would +permit this solution. He was rich, and yet he was not. His social +position was not established. What he possessed was the work of the +early years of his married life, when one of his greatest joys consisted +in saving, and in surprising Carmen and the _mamita_ with news of fresh +acquisitions. Later he had gone on earning money, maybe in greater +quantity, but it was wasted and had disappeared through various leaks in +his new existence. He had gambled a great deal and had lived a life of +splendor. His gambling had caused him to ask loans of various devotees +in the provinces. He was rich, but if he retired, thus losing the income +of the _corridas_ (some years two hundred thousand _pesetas_, others +three hundred thousand) he would have to retrench, after paying his +debts, by living like a country gentleman off the product of La +Rinconada, practising economies and overseeing the estate himself, for +up to that time the plantation, abandoned to mercenary hands, had +produced almost nothing. + +In former times he would have considered himself extremely wealthy with +a small part of what he actually possessed. Now he seemed almost a poor +man if he gave up bull-fighting. He would have to forego the Havana +cigars which he distributed prodigally, and the high-priced Andalusian +wines; he would have to curtail the impulses of a _gran senor_ and no +longer shout in _cafes_ and taverns, "It's all paid for!" with the +generous impulse of a man accustomed to defy death, which led him to +conduct his life with mad extravagance. He would have to dismiss the +troop of parasites and flatterers that swarmed around him, making him +laugh with their whining petitions; and when a smart woman of equivocal +class came to him (if any would come, after he had retired), he could no +longer make her turn pale with emotion by putting into her ears hoops of +gold and pearls, nor could he amuse himself by spotting her rich Chinese +shawl with wine to surprise her afterwards with a finer one. + +So had he lived, and so must he continue to live. He was a bull-fighter +of the good old times, such as the people represent a _matador_ of bulls +to be, liberal, proud, a reveller in scandalous extravagances and quick +to succor the unfortunate with princely alms whenever they touched his +rude sentiments. + +Gallardo jested at many of his companions, bull-fighters of a new kind, +vulgar members of the guild of the industry of killing bulls, who +journeyed from plaza to plaza like commercial travellers, and were +careful and mean in all their expenditures. Some of them, who were +almost boys, carried in their pocket an account book of income and +expenses, marking down even the five centimes for a glass of water at a +station. They only mingled with the rich to accept their attentions and +it never occurred to them to treat anybody. Others boiled great pots of +coffee at home when the travelling season came on and carried the black +liquid with them in bottles, having it reheated, to avoid this expense +in hotels. The members of certain _cuadrillas_ endured hunger and +growled in public about the avarice of their _maestros_. + +Gallardo was not tired of his life of splendor. And they wanted him to +renounce it! + +Moreover, he thought of the necessities of his own house, where all were +accustomed to an easy existence; the full and unembarrassed life of a +family which does not count money or worry about its coming in, seeing +it drip ceaselessly as from a faucet. Besides his wife and mother, he +had taken upon himself another family, his sister, his chattering +brother-in-law as idle as though his relationship to a celebrated man +gave him the right to vagrancy, and all the troop of little nephews who +were growing up and becoming constantly more expensive. He would have to +call to an order of economy and parsimony all these people accustomed to +live at his cost in merry and open-handed carelessness! And everybody, +even poor Garabato, would have to go to the plantation, to parch in the +sun and become brutish as rustics! Poor _Mamita_ could no longer gladden +her last days with pious generosity dispensing money among the needy +women in the ward, shrinking like a bashful girl when her son pretended +to be angry at finding she had nothing left of the hundred _duros_ he +had given her two weeks before! Carmen naturally would try to cut down +expenses, sacrificing herself first, depriving her existence of many +frivolities that made it bright. + +"Curse it!" All this meant the degradation of his family--on his +account. Gallardo felt ashamed that such a thing might happen. It would +be a crime to deprive them after having accustomed them to luxury. And +what must he do to avoid it? Simply get _closer_ to the bulls; to go on +fighting as in former times. + +He would get _closer_! + +He answered his manager's and Carmen's letters with brief and labored +lines that revealed his firm intention. Retire? Never! + +He was resolved to be the same as ever, he swore it to Don Jose. He +would follow his advice. "Zas! A thrust, and the beast in his pocket." +His courage rose, and he felt equal to taking care of all the bulls in +the universe no matter how big they might be. + +He was gay toward his wife, although his pride was rather hurt because +she doubted his strength. She should hear news after the next _corrida_! +He meant to astonish the public to shame it for its injustice. If the +bulls were good, he would be like the very Roger de Flor himself! + +Good bulls! This was Gallardo's worry. It used to be one of his vanities +that he never gave them a thought, and he never went to see them in the +plaza before the _corrida_. + +"I kill everything they let out to me," he used to say arrogantly. And +he beheld the bulls for the first time when he saw them enter the ring. + +Now he wished to examine them, to choose them, to prepare for success by +a careful study of their condition. + +The weather had cleared, the sun shone; the following day the second +bull-fight was to take place. + +In the afternoon Gallardo went alone to the plaza. The amphitheatre of +red brick, with its Moorish windows, stood by itself at the base of +green hills. In the background of this broad and monotonous landscape +something resembling a distant flock of sheep shone white on the slope +of a hill. It was a cemetery. + +Seeing the bull-fighter in the vicinity of the plaza some slovenly +individuals, parasites of the ring, vagabonds who slept in the stables +through charity, living at the cost of devotees and on the leavings of +patrons of the nearby taverns, approached him. Some of them had come +from Andalusia with a shipment of bulls and hung about in the vicinity +of the plaza. Gallardo distributed some coins among these beggars, who +followed him cap in hand, and entered the ring through the door of the +_Caballerizas_. + +In the _corral_ he saw a group of devotees watching the _picadores_ +testing horses. Potaje, with great cowboy spurs on his heels, was +grasping a spear, preparing to mount. Those in charge of the stables +escorted the manager of the horses, an obese man in a great Andalusian +hat, slow of speech, who responded calmly to the insulting and abusive +wrangling of the _picadores_. + +The "wise monkeys," with arms bared were pulling the hacks by the bridle +reins for the riders to try them. For several days they had been riding +and training these miserable horses which still bore on their flanks the +red gashes of the spurs. They brought them out to trot over the +clearings adjacent to the plaza, making them acquire an artificial +energy with the iron on their heels and obliging them to make turns to +accustom them to running in the ring. They came back to the plaza with +their sides dyed with blood, and before entering the stables they +received a baptism of several bucketfuls of water. Near the trough not +far away the water standing between the stones was dark red, like +spilled wine. + +The horses destined for the bull-fight the following day were almost +dragged out of the stables to be examined and passed upon by the +_picadores_. These worn-out remnants of wretched horse-flesh advanced, +with tremulous flanks drooping with old age and sickness, a reproach to +human ingratitude so forgetful of past service. Some were mere +skeletons with sharp protruding ribs that seemed about to break through +their hairy hide. Others walked proudly, stamping their strong hoofs, +their coats shining and their eyes bright; beautiful animals that it was +hard to imagine among outcasts destined to death, magnificent beasts +that seemed to have been recently unharnessed from a luxurious carriage. +These were the most dreaded, for they were horses afflicted with vertigo +and other maladies, and behind these specimens of misery and infirmity, +rang the sad hoof-beats of steeds past work, mill and factory horses, +farm horses, public cab nags, all dulled by years of pulling the plough +or the cart, unhappy pariahs who were going to be exploited until the +last instant, forced to provide diversion to men with their pawing and +springing when the bull's horns gored their shrinking bodies. To mount +this miserable horse-herd, tremulous with madness or ready to drop with +misery, as much courage was needed as to stand before the bull. Heavy +Moorish saddles with high pommel, yellow seat, and cowboy stirrups were +thrown upon them, and as they received this weight their legs almost +gave way. + +Potaje wore a haughty mien in his discussions with the overseer of the +horses, speaking for himself and for his comrades, making even the "wise +monkeys" laugh with his gypsy-like maledictions. Let the other +_picadores_ leave it to him to come to an understanding with the +horse-traders. Nobody knew better than he how to make these people stand +around. + +A servant approached him, dragging after him a dejected hack with long +hair and ribs in painful relief. + +"What art thou bringing there?" said Potaje facing the man. "That can't +be received. That's an animal no man alive could mount. Take it to thy +mother!" + +The phlegmatic contractor answered with grave calmness. If Potaje dared +not mount him it was because the _piqueros_ now-a-days were afraid of +everything. With a horse like this, kind and gentle, Senor Calderon, +Trigo, or any of the good-old-time horsemen could have fought bulls two +consecutive afternoons without getting a fall and without the animal +receiving a scratch. But now! Now there was much fear and very little +shame. + +The _picador_ and the contractor insulted one another with friendly +calmness, for among them abusive language lost significance from force +of habit. + +"What thou art," answered Potaje, "is a freshy, a bigger thief than Jose +Maria the _Earlybird_. Get out, and let thy bald-headed grandmother that +rode on a broom every Saturday at the stroke of twelve get on that +raw-boned, hard-gaited beast." + +Those present laughed and the contractor merely shrugged his shoulders. + +"But what's the matter with that horse?" he said coolly. "Look at him, +thou evil soul. Better is he than others that have glanders, or get +dizzy and that have thrown thee off over their ears before thou wast +even near the bull. He is sounder than an apple, for he has been +twenty-eight years in a gas factory doing his duty like a decent person, +without ever being found fault with. And now along comest thou, thou +street-crier, abusing him with thy 'buts' and thy fault finding, as if +he were a bad Christian." + +"But I don't want him! Get out! Keep him!" + +The contractor slowly approached Potaje, and with the ease of a man +expert in these transactions whispered in his ear. The _picador_, +pretending to be offended, finally walked up to the hack. He shouldn't +miss the sale on his account! He didn't want to be taken for an +intractable man, capable of injuring a comrade. + +Putting a foot in the stirrup he swung the weight of his body upon the +poor horse. Then, holding the spear under his arm, he thrust it into a +great post embedded in the wall, spearing it several times with +tremendous force, as if he had a stout bull at the end of his lance. The +poor hack trembled and bent his legs under these shocks. + +"He don't turn badly," said Potaje with conciliating tone. "The _penco_ +is better than I thought. He's got a good mouth, good legs. Thou hast +won. Let him be kept." + +The _picador_ dismounted, disposed to accept anything the contractor +offered him after his mysterious "aside." + +Gallardo left the group of devotees who had laughingly witnessed this +performance. A porter of the plaza went with him to where the bulls were +kept. He passed through a little door entering the _corrales_. + +A rubble wall that reached the height of a man's neck surrounded the +_corral_ on three sides, strengthened by heavy posts united to the +little upper balcony. Passages so narrow that a man could only go +through them side-wise opened at certain distances. Eight bulls were in +the spacious _corral_, some lying down, others standing with lowered +heads sniffing at the pile of hay before them. The bull-fighter walked +the length of these galleries examining the animals. At times he would +come outside the barricade, his body looming up through the narrow +openings. He waved his arms, giving savage whoops of challenge that +stirred the bulls out of their immobility. Some sprang nervously, +attacking with lowered head this man who came to disturb the peace of +their enclosure. Others stood firm on their legs, waiting with raised +heads and threatening mien for the rash being to approach them. + +Gallardo, who quickly hid himself again behind the barricades, examined +the appearance and character of the wild beasts, without deciding which +two he desired to choose. + +The plaza overseer was near him; a big athletic man, with leggings and +spurs, dressed in coarse cloth and wearing a broad hat held by a chin +strap. They had nicknamed him Young Wolf; he was a rough rider who spent +the greater part of the year in the open country, coming to Madrid like +a savage, with no curiosity to see its streets nor desire to pass beyond +the vicinity of the plaza. + +To his mind the capital of Spain was a ring with clearings and waste +lands in its environs, and beyond these a mysterious series of houses +with which he had felt no desire to become acquainted. The most +important establishment in Madrid was, in his opinion, Gallina's tavern, +situated near the plaza, a pleasant realm of joy; an enchanting palace +where he supped and ate at the manager's cost, before returning to the +pastures mounted on his steed, with his dark blanket over the pommel, +his saddle bags on the croup, and his spear over his shoulder. He +rejoiced in terrifying the servants of the tavern with his friendly +greetings; terrible hand-clasps that made the bones crack and drew +shrieks of terror. He smiled, proud of his strength and proud to be +called "brute," and seated himself before his meal, a plate the size of +a dishpan, full of meat and potatoes, besides a jug of wine. + +He tended the bulls acquired by the manager, sometimes in the pasture +grounds of Munoza, or, when the heat was excessive, in the meadows among +the Guadarramas. He brought them to the enclosure two days before the +_corrida_, at midnight, crossing the arroyo Abronigal, at the outskirts +of Madrid, accompanied by horsemen and cowboys. He was in despair when +bad weather prevented the bull-fight and the herd had to remain in the +plaza, and he could not return immediately to the tranquil solitudes +where he pastured the other bulls. + +Slow of speech, dull of thought, this centaur who smelled of hide and +hay expressed himself with warmth when he talked of his pastoral life +herding wild beasts. The sky of Madrid seemed to him narrow and to have +fewer stars. He described with picturesque loquacity the nights in the +pasture with his bulls sleeping in the diffused light of the firmament +and in the dense silence broken only by the mysterious noises from the +thickets. The mountain snakes sang with a strange voice in this +stillness. They sang, _si, senor_! No one cared to dispute Young Wolf; +he had heard it a thousand times, and to doubt this were to call him a +liar, exposing oneself to feel the weight of his heavy hands. And as the +reptiles sang, so the bulls talked, only that he had not managed to +penetrate all the mysteries of their tongue. They were Christians +although they walked on four legs and had horns. It was a fine sight to +see them awaken when the morning light appeared. They sprang up +joyfully like children; they played, pretending to attack, locking +horns; they tried to ride one another with a noisy joy, as if they +greeted the presence of the sun which is God's glory. Then he told of +his long excursions through the Guadarramas, following the course of the +stream of liquid snow that flowed down from the mountain peaks, like +transparent crystal, feeding the rivers and the meadows with their +herbage dotted with tiny flowers; of the flapping of the wings of the +birds that came and perched on the sleeping bulls' horns; of the wolves +that howled through the night, ever far away, very far away, as if +frightened by the procession of primeval beasts that followed the +leader's bell to dispute with them the wild solitude. Let them not talk +to him of Madrid, where the people were suffocated! The only acceptable +things in this forest of houses were Gallina's wine and his savory +stews. + +Young Wolf talked to the swordsman and helped him by his advice to +choose two animals. The overseer showed neither respect nor wonder in +the presence of this famous man, so admired by the people. The +bull-herder almost hated the bull-fighter. Kill one of those noble +animals, with all kinds of deceptions! A braver man was he who lived +among them, passing before their horns in the solitude, without other +defence than his arm, and with no applause whatever. + +As Gallardo left the _corral_ another joined the group, greeting the +_maestro_ with great respect. He was an old man, charged with the +cleanliness of the plaza. He had spent many years in this employment and +had known all the famous bull-fighters of his time. He went poorly clad, +but frequently women's rings glistened on his fingers, and he blew his +nose upon a dainty lace-edged linen handkerchief, which he drew out of +the depths of his blouse. + +Alone during the week he swept the immense ring, the tiers of seats and +the boxes, without complaint as to the magnitude of this task. Whenever +the manager found fault and threatened to punish him by opening the door +to the vagabonds who idled around outside the plaza, the poor man in +desperation promised to mend, so that this unwelcome irruption of +scavengers might not cheat him of his spoil. At the most, he admitted +half a dozen rogues, bull-fight apprentices, who were faithful to him in +exchange for his permitting them on festal days to see the _corrida_ +from "the dogs' box," a door with a grille situated near the bull-pens, +through which the wounded combatants were carried out. These assistants, +clutching the iron bars, witnessed the _corrida_, struggling and +fighting like monkeys in a cage to occupy the front row. + +The old man distributed them skilfully during the week as the cleaning +of the plaza progressed. The youngsters worked in the seats in the sun +occupied by the poor and dirty public, which leaves in its wake a +scrap-heap of orange skins, papers, and cigar stubs. + +"Look out for the tobacco," he ordered his troop. "Any one that holds on +to a single cigar stub won't see the bull-fight Sunday." + +He patiently cleaned the shady side, bending over like a treasure-seeker +in the mystery of the boxes to put the findings in his pockets; ladies' +fans, rings, handkerchiefs, lost coins, all that an invasion of fourteen +thousand persons leaves in its wake. He heaped up the smokers' +leavings, mincing the stubs and selling them for pulverized tobacco +after exposing them to the sun. The valuables were for a pawnbrokeress +who bought these spoils of a public forgetful or overcome by emotion. + +Gallardo answered the old man's pleasant greetings by giving him a +cigar, and he took leave of Young Wolf. It was agreed with the overseer +that he should shut up the two chosen bulls for him. The other swordsmen +would not protest. They were boys in good luck, in the flower of their +youthful bravery, who killed whatever was put before them. + +Going out into the courtyard again where the horse-testing was going on +Gallardo saw a man move away from the group of spectators; he was tall, +spare, and of a coppery complexion, dressed like a bull-fighter. Beneath +his black hat locks of grayish hair fell over his ears, and he was +wrinkled around the mouth. + +"Pescadero! How art thou?" said Gallardo, pressing his hand with sincere +effusion. + +He was an old-time swordsman who had had hours of glory in his youth, +but whose name few remembered. Other _matadores_ coming after had +obscured his poor fame, and Pescadero, after fighting bulls in America +and suffering various wounds, had retired with a small capital of +savings. Gallardo knew that he was the owner of a tavern in the vicinity +of the ring where he vegetated far from the devotees and bull-fighters' +trade. He did not expect to see him in the plaza, but Pescadero said +with a melancholy expression: "What brings me here? Devotion to the +game. I seldom come to the bull-fights, but affairs of the trade still +attract me, and I come in a neighborly fashion to see these things. Now +I am nothing but a tavern keeper." + +Gallardo, contemplating his forlorn appearance, thought of the Pescadero +he had known in his youth, one of his most admired heroes, arrogant, +favored by the women, a notable figure in Campana Street when he went to +Seville, with his velvet hat, his wine-colored jacket, and his silken +girdle, leaning on a gold-headed cane. And thus would _he_ become, +common and forgotten if he retired from bull-fighting. + +They discussed professional matters a long time. Pescadero, like all old +men embittered by bad luck, was a pessimist. There were no good +bull-fighters any more. Only Gallardo and a few others killed bulls in +classic style. Even the beasts seemed less powerful. And after these +lamentations he insisted on his friend accompanying him to his house. +Since they had met, and the _matador_ had nothing to do, he must visit +his establishment. + +Gallardo smiled, and asked about the school of tauromachy established by +Pescadero near his tavern. + +"What wouldst thou, son!" said the latter apologetically. "One has to +help oneself, and the school yields more than all the customers of the +tavern. Very good people come, young gentlemen who want to learn so as +to shine in bullock-fights, foreigners that grow enthusiastic at the +bull-fights and get a crazy notion to become bull-fighters in their old +age. I have one taking a lesson now. He comes every afternoon. Thou +shalt see." + +After taking a glass of wine at the tavern they crossed the street and +entered a place surrounded by a high wall. On the boards nailed +together, that served as a door, was posted a great bill which +announced, "School of Tauromachy." + +They entered. The first thing that claimed Gallardo's attention was the +bull, an animal made of wood and rushes, mounted on wheels, with a tail +of tow, head of braided straw, a section of cork in place of a neck, and +a pair of genuine and enormous horns which inspired the pupils with +terror. + +A bare-breasted youth, wearing a cap and two hanks of hair over his +ears, communicated activity to the beast by pushing it when the students +stood before it cape in hand. + +In the centre of the enclosure a round, corpulent old man with a red +face stood in his shirt-sleeves holding an armful of _banderillas_. Near +the wall, slouching in one chair and resting her arms on another, was a +lady of about the same age and not less voluminous, wearing a beflowered +hat. Her florid face, with spots as yellow as chaff, dilated with +enthusiasm every time her companion performed a good feat. The roses on +her hat, and her false curls of a ridiculous blonde hue, shook with +laughter as she applauded. + +Standing in the doorway Pescadero explained these people to Gallardo. +They must be French, or natives of some other foreign country--he was +not sure where they were from nor did it matter to him. They were a +married couple who travelled about the world and seemed to have lived +everywhere. He had had a thousand trades, to judge from his tales; miner +in Africa; colonist in distant isles; hunter of horses with a lasso in +the solitudes of America. Now he wished to fight bulls--to earn money +as did the Spaniards; and he attended the school every afternoon, with +the determination of a stubborn child, paying generously for his +lessons. + +"Imagine it; a bull-fighter with that shape and well past fifty years of +age!" + +When the pupil saw the two men enter, he lowered his arms laden with +_banderillas_, and the lady arranged her skirt and flowery hat. Oh, +_cher maitre_!-- + +"Good-afternoon _Mosiu_; greetings, _Madame_," said the master, raising +his hand to his hat. "Let us see, _Mosiu_, how the lesson is getting on. +You know what I have told you. Firm on your ground, you stir up the +beast, you let him come on, and when you have him beside you, aim, and +put the barbs in his neck. You don't have to worry yourself about +anything; the bull will do everything for you. Attention! Are we ready?" + +The master moved away, and the pupil faced the terrible bull, or rather +the gamin who was behind it, his hands on its hind quarters to push it. + +"A-a-a-a! Come on, Morito!" + +Pescadero gave a frightful bellow to cause the animal to charge, +exciting, with yells and with furious stamping on the ground, this +animal with entrails of air and rushes, and a head of straw. Morito +charged like a wild beast, with great clatter of wheels, bobbing his +head up and down as he moved, the page who pushed him bringing up the +rear. Never could bull of famous breed compare in intelligence with this +Morito, immortal beast, stuck full of barbs and sword-thrusts thousands +of times, suffering no other wounds than such insignificant ones as a +carpenter cures. He seemed as wise as man. On drawing near the pupil, he +changed his course so as not to touch him with his horns, moving away +with the barbs lodged in his cork neck. + +An ovation greeted this heroic feat, the _banderillero_ remaining firm +in his place, arranging the suspenders of his trousers and the cuffs of +his shirt. + +"Masterful, _Mosiu_!" shouted Pescadero. "That pair is first class!" + +The foreigner, moved by the professor's applause, responded with +modesty, beating his breast: + +"Me got the most important. Courage, _mucho_ courage." + +Then, to celebrate his deed, he turned to Morito's page, who seemed to +lick his lips in anticipation of the order. Let a bottle of wine be +fetched. Three empty ones lay on the ground near the lady, who was +constantly growing more purple in the face, wriggling in her clothing, +greeting her companion's tauromachic exploits with great shouts of +laughter. + +On learning that he who had just arrived with the teacher was the famous +Gallardo, and on recognizing his countenance so often admired by her in +the newspapers and on match-boxes, the foreign woman lost color and her +eyes grew tender. Oh, _cher maitre_! She smiled at him, she rubbed +against him, desiring to fall into his arms with all the weight of her +voluminous and flabby person. + +Glasses were clinked to the glory of the new bull-fighter. Even Morito +took part in the feast, the steward who acted as nurse drinking in his +name. + +"Before two months, _Mosiu_," said Pescadero, with his Andalusian +gravity, "you will be sticking _banderillas_ in the plaza of Madrid like +the very God himself, and you will have all the applause, all the money, +and all the women--with your lady's permission." + +The lady, without ceasing to gaze upon Gallardo with tender eyes, was +moved with joy, and a noisy laugh shook her waves of fat. + +Pescadero accompanied Gallardo down the street. + +"_Adios_, Juan," he said gravely. "Maybe we'll see each other in the +plaza to-morrow. Thou seest what I have come to--to earn my bread by +these frauds and clown-tricks." + +Gallardo walked away, thoughtful. Ah! that man whom he had seen throw +money around in his good times with the arrogance of a prince, sure of +his future! He had lost his savings in bad speculations. A +bull-fighter's life was not one in which to learn the management of a +fortune. And yet they proposed that _he_ retire from his profession! +Never. + +He must get _close_ to the bulls! + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +"THE GREATEST MAN IN THE WORLD" + + +During the whole night one dominant thought floated over the dark lake +of Gallardo's dreams. He must get _close_! And the next morning the +resolution was firmly rooted in his mind. He _would_ get close, and +astound the public by his brave deeds. Such was his mettle that he went +to the plaza free from the superstitious fears of former times. He felt +the certainty of triumph, the presentiment of his glorious afternoons. + +The _corrida_ was unlucky from the start. The first bull "came in +fighting," furiously attacking the men on horseback. In an instant he +had thrown the three _picadores_ who awaited him lance in socket, and +two of the hacks, lay dying, streams of dark blood gushing from their +perforated chests. The other horse ran across the plaza, mad with pain +and surprise. The bull, attracted by this race, ran after him, and +lowering his powerful head beneath his belly, raised him on his horns +and threw him on the ground, venting his rage on the poor broken and +punctured hulk. As the wild beast left it kicking and dying, a _mono +sabio_ approached to finish it, burying his dagger blade in the crown of +his head. The wretched hack showed the fury of a lion in his death +struggles and bit the man, who gave a scream and shook his bleeding +right hand, pressing on the dagger until the horse ceased kicking and +lay with rigid limbs. Other plaza employees came running from all +directions with great baskets of sand to throw in heaps over the pools +of blood and the dead bodies of the horses. + +The public was on its feet, gesticulating and vociferating. It was +filled with enthusiasm by the bull's fierceness and protested because +there was not a _picador_ in the ring, shouting in chorus: "Horses, +horses!" + +Everybody knew they would come in immediately, but it infuriated them to +have an interval pass without new carnage. The bull stood alone in the +centre of the ring proud and bellowing, raising his blood-stained horns, +the ribbons of the emblem on his lacerated neck fluttering in the +breeze. + +New horsemen appeared and the repugnant spectacle was repeated. The +_picador_ had barely approached with spear held in advance, reining his +horse to one side so that the bandaged eye would prevent his seeing the +bull, when the shock and fall were instantaneous. Javelins broke with +the cracking sound of dry wood; the gored horse was raised on the +powerful horns; blood spouted; bits of hide and flesh fell after the +shock of mortal combat; the _picador_ rolled along the sand like a +yellow-legged puppet and was immediately covered by the attendants' +capes. + +The public hailed the riders' noisy falls with shouting and laughter. +The arena resounded with the shock of their heavy bodies and their +iron-covered legs. Some fell backwards like stuffed sacks, and their +heads, as they encountered the boards of the barricade, awoke a dismal +echo. + +"He'll never get up again," shouted the people. "He must have busted his +melon." + +But he did get up again; he extended his arms, scratched his head, +recovered his heavy beaver hat lost in the fall, and remounted the same +horse which the _monos sabios_ forced upon its feet with pushes and +blows. The gay horseman urged his steed into a trot, and astride the +agonized wreck rode to meet the wild beast again. + +"Good for you!" he shouted, throwing his hat at a group of friends. + +No sooner did he stand before the bull, thrusting his lance into the +neck, than man and horse rose on high, the two immediately falling apart +from the violence of the shock, and rolling in different directions. +Again, before the bull attacked, the _monos sabios_ and some of the +audience warned the horseman. "Dismount!" But before his rigid legs +would allow him to do so, the horse fell flat, instantly dead, and the +_picador_ was hurled over his ears his head striking the arena with a +resounding thud. + +The bull's horns never managed to gore the riders, but those lying on +the ground apparently lifeless were carried by the _peones_ to the +infirmary to have their broken bones set or to be resuscitated from +deathlike unconsciousness. + +Gallardo, eager to attract the sympathy of the audience, hurried from +place to place; he received great applause at one time for pulling a +bull's tail to save a _picador_ who lay on the ground at the point of +being gored. + +While the _banderillas_ were being placed, Gallardo leaned against the +barrier and gazed along the boxes. Dona Sol must be in one of them. At +last he saw her, but without her white _mantilla_, without anything to +remind him of that Sevillian lady dressed like one of Goya's _majas_. +One might think her, with her blonde hair and her novel and elegant hat, +one of those foreign women attending a bull-fight for the first time. +At her side was the friend, that man of whom she talked with admiration +and to whom she was showing the interesting features of the country. Ah, +Dona Sol! Soon she should see of what mettle was the brave youth she had +abandoned! She would have to applaud him in the presence of the hated +stranger; she would be transported and moved against her will by the +enthusiasm of the audience. + +When the moment arrived for Gallardo to kill his first bull, the second +on the programme, the public received him kindly as if it had forgotten +its anger at the previous bull-fight. The two weeks of suspension on +account of the rain seemed to have produced great tolerance in the +multitude. They were willing to find everything acceptable in a +_corrida_ so long awaited. Besides, the fierceness of the bulls and the +great mortality of horses had put the public in a good humor. + +Gallardo strode up to the bull, his head uncovered after his salutation, +with the _muleta_ held before him, and swinging his sword like a cane. +Behind him, although at a prudent distance, followed Nacional and +another bull-fighter. A few voices from the rows of seats protested. +"How many acolytes!" It resembled a parish priest going to a funeral. + +"Stand aside, everybody!" shouted Gallardo. + +The two _peones_ paused, because he said it as if he meant it, with an +accent that left no room for doubt. + +He strode ahead until near the wild beast, and there he unrolled his +_muleta_, making a few passes more like those of his old times, until he +thrust the rag near the drivelling muzzle. "A good play! Hurrah!" A +murmur of satisfaction ran along the tiers of seats. The bull-fighter +of Seville had redeemed his name; he had bull-fighter pride! He was +going to do some of his own feats, as in his better days. His _pases de +muleta_ were accompanied by noisy exclamations of enthusiasm, while his +partisans became reanimated and rebuked their enemies. What did they +think of that? Gallardo was careless sometimes--they knew that--but any +afternoon when he wished--! + +That was one of the good afternoons. When he saw the bull standing with +motionless fore-feet, the public itself fired him with its advice. "Now! +Thrust!" + +Gallardo threw himself against the wild beast with the sword presented, +but rapidly moved away from the danger of the horns. + +Applause arose, but it was short; a threatening murmur cut by strident +hisses followed. The enthusiasts ceased looking at the bull to face the +rest of the public with indignation. What injustice! What lack of +knowledge! He had started in at the killing well enough-- + +But the enemies pointed to the bull derisively persisting in their +protests, and the whole plaza joined in a deafening explosion of hisses. +The sword had penetrated obliquely--passing through the bull's body, its +point appearing through one side, near his fore-leg. The people +gesticulated and waved their arms with roars of indignation. What a +scandal! Even a bad bullock-fighter would not make such a stroke as +that! + +The animal, with the hilt of the sword in his neck, and the point +protruding through the joint of his fore-leg, began to limp, his +enormous mass quivering with the movement of his unsteady tread. This +spectacle seemed to move the audience with generous indignation. Poor +bull! So good; so noble. Some leaned forward, raging with fury, as if +they would throw themselves head foremost into the ring. Thief--son of a +thief! To thus martyrize an animal that was better than he. And all +shouted with impetuous sympathy for the animal's suffering, as if they +had not paid their money to witness his death. + +Gallardo, astounded at his act, bowed his head beneath the storm of +insults and threats. "Cursed be the luck." He had started in to kill +just as in his better epoch, dominating the nervous feeling that forced +him to turn away his face as if he could not bear the sight of the wild +beast that charged him. But desire to avoid danger, to immediately +escape from between the horns, had caused him to lose his luck again +with that stupid and scandalous thrust. + +The people on the tiers of seats stirred restlessly with the fervor of +numerous disputes. "He doesn't understand. He turns away his face. He +has made a fool of himself." Gallardo's partisans excused their idol, +but with less fervency. "That might happen to anybody. It is a +misfortune. The important thing is to start in to kill with spirit as he +does." + +The bull, after running and limping with painful steps which made the +crowd howl with indignation, stood motionless, so as not to prolong his +martyrdom. + +Gallardo grasped another sword, walked up and faced the bull. + +The public divined his task. He must finish him by pricking him in the +base of the brain; the only thing he could do after his crime. + +He held the point of the sword between the two horns, while with the +other hand he shook the _muleta_ so that the animal, attracted by the +rag, would lower his head to the ground. He pressed on the sword, and +the bull, feeling himself wounded, tossed his head throwing out the +instrument. + +"One!" shouted the multitude with mocking unanimity. + +The _matador_ repeated his play and again drove in the sword, making the +wild beast shudder. + +"Two!" they sang mockingly from the bleachers. + +He tried again to touch the vulnerable spot with no other result than a +bellow of pain from the animal, tortured by this martyrdom. + +"Three!" + +Hisses and shouts of protest were united to this ironic chorus on the +part of the public. When was that fool going to get through? + +Finally he succeeded in touching with the point of his sword the +beginning of the spinal cord, the centre of life, and the bull fell +instantly, lying on his side with rigid legs. + +The swordsman wiped the sweat off his brow and began his return to the +president's box with slow step, breathing heavily. At last he was free +of that animal. He had thought he would never finish. The public +received him with sarcasms as he passed, or with disdainful silence. +None applauded. He saluted the president in the midst of general +indifference, and took refuge behind the barrier, like a pupil shamed by +his faults. While Garabato offered him a glass of water, the _matador_ +looked at the boxes, meeting the eyes of Dona Sol which had followed him +into his retreat. What must that woman think of him! How she and her +friend would laugh on seeing him insulted by the public! What a damnable +idea of that lady to come to the bull-fight! + +He remained between barriers avoiding all fatigue until the next bull he +was to kill should be let out. His wounded leg pained him on account of +his having run so much. He was no longer himself; he knew it now. His +arrogance and his resolve to get closer resulted in nothing. His legs +were no longer swift and sure as in former times, nor had his right arm +that daring that made him extend it fearlessly, eager to reach the +bull's neck without delay. Now it bent disobedient to his will, with the +blind instinct of certain animals that shrink and hide their faces, +thinking thus to avoid danger. + +His old-time superstitions suddenly awoke, terrifying and obsessing him. + +"I feel that something is going to happen," thought Gallardo. "My heart +tells me that the fifth bull will catch me--he'll catch me--there is no +escape." + +However, when the fifth bull came out, the first thing he met was +Gallardo's cape. What an animal! He seemed different from the one he had +chosen in the _corral_ the day before. Surely they had changed the order +in regard to letting out the bulls. Fear kept ringing in the +bull-fighter's ears. "Bad sign! He'll catch me; I'll go out of the ring +to-day foot foremost." + +In spite of this he kept on fighting the wild beast and drawing it away +from _picadores_ in danger. At first his feats were received in silence. +Then the public, softening, applauded him mildly. When it came time for +the death-stroke and Gallardo squared himself before the wild beast, +every one seemed to divine the confusion of his mind. He moved as if +disconcerted; the bull no sooner tossed his head than, taking the +attitude for an advance, he stepped back, receding by great springs, +while the public greeted these attempts at flight with a chorus of +jests. + +"Ouch! Ouch! He'll catch thee!" + +Suddenly, as if he wished to end it by any means, he threw himself upon +the animal with the sword, but obliquely, so as to escape from danger as +soon as possible. An explosion of hisses and voices! The sword was +embedded but a few inches, and after vibrating in the wild beast's neck, +was shaken out and hurled far away. + +Gallardo took his sword again and approached the bull. He squared +himself to go in to kill and the wild beast charged at the same instant. +He longed to flee but his legs no longer had the agility of other times. +He was struck and rolled over from the shock. Aid came, and Gallardo +arose covered with dirt, with a great rent in the seat of his trousers +through which his white underclothing escaped, and minus a slipper and +the _mona_ which adorned his queue. + +The arrogant youth whom the public had so much admired for his elegance, +presented a pitiful and absurd appearance with his clothes awry, his +hair disarranged, his _coleta_ fallen and undone like a limp tail. + +Several capes were mercifully extended around him to aid and shield him. +The other bull-fighters, with generous comradeship, even prepared the +bull so that he could finish with it quickly. But Gallardo seemed blind +and deaf; no sooner did he see the animal than he stepped back at his +lightest charges, as if the recent upsetting had maddened him with +fear. He did not understand what his comrades said to him, but, with his +face intensely pale, and frowning as though to concentrate his mind, he +stammered, not knowing what he said: + +"Stand aside, everybody! Leave me alone!" + +Meanwhile fear kept singing through his brain: "To-day thou diest. +To-day is thy last goring." + +The public divined the swordsman's thought from his confused movements. + +"The bull makes him sick. He has become afraid!" + +Even Gallardo's most fervent partisans kept silent through shame, unable +to explain this occurrence never before seen. + +The people seemed to revel in his terror, with the undaunted courage of +those who are in a place of safety. Others, thinking of their money, +shouted against this man who let himself be ruled by the instinct of +self-preservation, defrauding them of their joy. A robbery! Vile people +insulted the swordsman, expressing doubt as to his sex. Odium had +brought to light and spread abroad, after many years of adulation, +certain memories of the bull-fighter's youth, forgotten even by himself. +They recalled his nocturnal life with the vagabonds on the Alameda of +Hercules. They laughed at his torn breeches and at the white clothing +that escaped through the rent. + +"If thou couldst see thyself!" shouted shrill voices, with feminine +accent. + +Gallardo, protected by his companions' capes, took advantage of all the +bull's distractions to wound him with his sword, deaf to the mocking of +the public. + +He dealt thrusts that the animal barely felt. His terror at being +caught lengthened his arm and caused him to stand at a distance, +wounding only with the point of the sword. + +Some blades were scarcely embedded in the flesh, and fell; others +remained lodged in bone but were uncovered in their greater length, +vibrating with the movements of the bull which walked with lowered head, +following the contour of the wall, bellowing as if with weariness at the +useless torment. The swordsman followed him, _muleta_ in hand, eager to +finish him, yet fearful of exposing himself, and behind came the whole +troop of assistants moving their capes as if they wished to induce the +animal by the waving of their rags to bend his legs and lie down. + +The bull's journey about the ring close to the barrier, his muzzle +drivelling, his neck bristling with swords, provoked an explosion of +mockery and insult. + +"It is the Via Dolorosa," they said. + +Others compared the animal to a cushion full of pins. Thief! Miserable +bull-puncher! + +Some, more vile, persisted in their insults to Gallardo's sex, changing +his name. + +"Juanita, don't get lost!" + +A long time passed and a part of the public, wishing to discharge its +fury against something higher than the bull-fighter, turned towards the +presidential box. "_Senor Presidente!_" How long was this scandal going +to last? + +The president made a sign that quieted the protestants and gave an +order. A minor official with his plumed shovel-hat and floating cape was +seen to run along behind the barrier until he stood near the bull. +There, turning to Gallardo, he held out his hand, with his index finger +raised. The public applauded. It was the first notice. If the bull was +not killed before the third, he would be returned to the _corral_, +leaving the swordsman under the stain of the greatest dishonor. + +Gallardo, as if awakening from his dream, terrified at this threat, +raised his sword and threw himself upon the bull. Another thrust that +barely penetrated the bull's body. + +The swordsman let fall his arms in dejection. Surely the beast was +immortal. Sword-thrusts made no impression on him. It seemed as if he +would never fall. + +The inefficiency of the last stroke infuriated the public. Every one +rose to his feet. The hisses were deafening, obliging the women to cover +their ears. Many waved their arms, bending forward, as if they wished to +hurl themselves into the plaza. Oranges, bread crusts, seat cushions, +flew into the ring like swift projectiles aimed at the _matador_. +Stentorian voices rose from the seats in the sun, roars like those of a +steam siren, which it seemed incredible should be produced by the human +throat. From time to time a deafening clamor of bells pealed forth with +furious strokes. A derisive chorus near the bull pens chanted the +_gorigori_ of the dead. + +Many turned towards the president. When would the second notice be +given? Gallardo wiped off the sweat with his handkerchief, gazing in all +directions as if surprised at the injustice of the public, and making +the bull responsible for all that occurred. At that moment his eyes +rested on Dona Sol's box. She turned her back so as not to see the ring; +perhaps she felt pity for him; perhaps she was ashamed of her +condescensions in the past. + +Again he threw himself upon the animal to kill, but few could see what +he did, for he was hidden by the open capes hung continually about him. +The bull fell, a stream of blood gushing out of his mouth. + +At last! The public became less restless, ceasing to gesticulate, but +the shouts and hisses continued. The beast was finished by the +_puntillero_; the swords were drawn out, he was harnessed by the head to +a team of mules and dragged from the ring, leaving a broad belt of +smoothed earth and pools of blood which the attendants obliterated with +the rake and baskets of sand. + +Gallardo hid himself between barriers, fleeing from the insulting +protests which his presence raised. There he remained, tired and panting +for breath, with his leg aching, but in the midst of his dejection +feeling satisfaction at being free from danger. He had not died on the +wild beast's horns, but he owed his safety to his prudence. Ah, the +public! A multitude of assassins that hankers for a man's death as if +they alone made good use of life and had a family. + +His departure from the plaza was sad, behind the crowd that filled the +environs of the ring, the carriages, the automobiles, the long rows of +tram-cars. + +His coach rolled along slowly to avoid driving over the groups of +spectators coming out of the plaza. These separated to let the mules +pass, but as they recognized the swordsman they seemed to repent their +amiability. In the movement of their lips Gallardo read tremendous +insults. Other carriages in which rode handsome women in white +_mantillas_ passed near his. Some turned their heads so as not to see +the bull-fighter; others looked on him with eyes of pitying +commiseration. + +The _matador_ shrank as if he wished to pass unnoticed. He hid behind +the corpulence of Nacional who rode silent and frowning. + +A crowd of boys following the carriage broke out into hisses. Many who +were standing on the sidewalks imitated them, thinking thus to avenge +themselves for their poverty, which had compelled them to remain outside +the plaza the whole afternoon in a vain hope of seeing something. + +The news of Gallardo's failure had circulated among them and they +insulted him, glad to humiliate a man who earned enormous riches. + +This outburst aroused the swordsman from the mute resignation into which +he had fallen. + +"Curse it! But why do they hiss? Have they been at the bull-fight? Have +they paid out their money?" + +A stone struck against a wheel of the coach. The vagabonds were shouting +at the very steps, but two guards rode up on horseback and quelled the +disturbance, afterward escorting all the way up Alcala Street the famous +Juan Gallardo--"the greatest man in the world." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE ATONEMENT OF BLOOD + + +The _cuadrillas_ had just entered the ring when loud blows were heard on +the door of the _Caballerizas_. + +A plaza employee approached it shouting with ill-humor. Nobody entered +there; they must go to another door. But an insistent voice answered him +from without, and he opened it. + +A man and a woman entered; he wearing a white Cordovan hat, she dressed +in black and with a _mantilla_ over her head. + +The man grasped the employee's hand, leaving something in it that +humanized his fierce aspect. + +"You know me, don't you?" said the newcomer. "Really, don't you know me? +I am Gallardo's brother-in-law and this lady is his wife." + +Carmen gazed all around the abandoned courtyard. In the distance, behind +the thick brick walls, sounded music, and the respiration of the +multitude could be felt, broken by shouts of enthusiasm and murmurs of +curiosity. The _cuadrillas_ were defiling before the president. + +"Where is he?" anxiously inquired Carmen. + +"Where should he be, woman?" replied the brother-in-law brusquely. "In +the plaza, doing his duty. It is madness to have come; nonsense. Oh, +this weak character of mine!" + +Carmen continued gazing about her, but with a certain indecision, as if +repentant for having come there. What was she to do? + +The employee moved by Antonio's hand pressure, or by the relationship of +those two persons to the _matador_ of fame, became obsequious. If the +lady wished to await the termination of the bull-fight, she might rest +at the _concierge's_ house. If they chose to see the _corrida_, he could +get them a good place, although they had no tickets. + +Carmen shuddered at this proposition. See the bull-fight? No. She had +come to the plaza by an effort of her will, and she regretted it. It was +impossible for her to endure the sight of her husband in the ring. She +had never seen him fighting bulls. She would wait there until she could +bear it no longer. + +"God help me!" said the leather-worker with resignation. "We will stay, +though I don't know what we shall do here in front of the stables." + +Encarnacion's husband had been following after his sister-in-law since +the day before, putting up with her hysteria and tears of nervousness +excited by fear. + +Saturday at mid-day Carmen had talked to him in her husband's office. +She was going to Madrid! She was determined on taking this journey. She +could not live in Seville. She had spent a week of insomnia, seeing +horrible visions. Her feminine instinct warned her of some great danger. +She must rush to Juan's side. She did not know why, nor what she could +accomplish by the journey, but she longed to be near Gallardo, with that +affectionate desire that believes it can minimize danger by being close +to the person beloved. + +This was not living! She had learned through the daily papers about +Juan's bad luck the Sunday before in the Plaza of Madrid. She understood +bull-fighter professional pride. She guessed that he would not tolerate +this misfortune with resignation. He would do mad deeds to reconquer the +applause of the public. The last letter she had received from him gave +her to understand it vaguely. + +"Yes, yes!" she said energetically to her brother-in-law, "I am going to +Madrid this very afternoon. If thou wishest, thou mayest accompany me; +if thou dost not wish to come, I will go alone. Above all--not a word to +Don Jose; he would prevent the trip. No one knows about it but +_Mamita_." + +The leather-worker accepted. A free trip to Madrid, although in such sad +company! On the way, Carmen gave expression to her fears. She would talk +to her husband forcefully. Why continue fighting bulls? Had they not +enough to live on? He must retire, and immediately; if not, she would +die. This _corrida_ must be the last. Even this one seemed more than she +could bear. She would arrive in Madrid in time to prevent her husband +working that afternoon. Her heart told her that by her presence she +would prevent a great calamity. But her brother-in-law protested in +consternation on hearing this. + +"What barbarity! What women are! They get an idea in the head, and +things must be so. Dost thou believe, then, that there is no authority, +nor laws, nor rules of the plaza, and that it is enough for a woman to +take a notion to embrace her husband when she gets frightened, to +suspend a _corrida_ and leave the public with its thumb on its nose? +Thou mayest say what thou wilt to Juan, but it must be after the +bull-fight. Authority can't be played with; we would all go to jail." + +The leather-worker imagined the most dramatic consequences if Carmen +persisted in her absurd idea of presenting herself to her husband in +order to prevent his bull-fighting. They would all be locked up. He +already saw himself in prison as an accomplice to this act which in his +simplicity he considered a crime. + +When they reached Madrid he had to make renewed efforts to prevent his +companion from rushing to the hotel where her husband was. What good +would that do? + +"Thou wilt confuse him by thy presence and he will go to the plaza in a +bad humor, excited, and if anything happens to him the fault will be +thine." + +This idea subdued Carmen and caused her to follow her brother-in-law's +advice. She allowed herself to be taken to a hotel of his selection, and +she remained there all the morning lying on a sofa in her room, weeping +as if she were sure of coming adversity. The leather-worker, happy to be +in Madrid, well housed, waxed indignant against this despair which +seemed to him absurd. + +"Man alive! What women are! Any one would think thou art a widow, while +thy husband is at this very moment getting ready for the _corrida_ hale +and hearty as Roger de Flor himself. What nonsense!" + +Carmen scarcely ate any breakfast, deaf to the praises her +brother-in-law rendered the cook of the establishment. In the afternoon +her resignation vanished again. + +The hotel was situated near the Puerta del Sol and the noise and stir of +the people going to the bull-fight reached her. No, she could not stay +in that strange room while her husband risked his life. She must see +him. She lacked courage to witness the spectacle, but she longed to be +near him; she must go to the plaza. Where was the plaza? She had never +seen it. If she could not enter, she would wander around its environs. +The important thing was to feel herself near, believing that by this +proximity she could influence Gallardo's luck. + +The leather-worker protested. By the life of--! He intended to see the +bull-fight; he had gone out and bought a ticket and now Carmen spoiled +his pleasure by her determination to go to the plaza. + +"But what wilt thou do there, girl? What wilt thou better by thy +presence? Imagine if Juaniyo should chance to see thee." + +They argued long, but the woman answered all his reasoning with the same +firm reply: + +"Thou needst not accompany me; I will go alone." + +The brother-in-law at last surrendered and they rode to the plaza in a +hired coach. The leather-worker remembered a great deal about the +amphitheatre and its dependencies from having accompanied Gallardo on +one of his trips to Madrid for the spring bull-fights. + +He and the employee were undecided and ill humored in the presence of +this woman with reddened eyes and sunken cheeks who stood planted in the +courtyard uncertain what to do. The two men felt themselves drawn by the +murmur of the crowd and the music that rose from the plaza. Must they +stand there the whole afternoon and not see the bull-fight? + +The employee had a brilliant inspiration. + +If the lady wished to pass into the chapel-- + +The defiling of the _cuadrillas_ was over. Some horsemen came trotting +out of the door that gave access to the ring. They were _picadores_ who +were not on duty and were retiring from the arena to substitute their +companions when their turn came. Hitched to some rings in the wall stood +a row of six saddled horses, the first that must enter the plaza to +supply those fallen. Behind them the lancers passed the time making +evolutions with their steeds. A stable boy mounted a skittish wild mare +and galloped her along the _corral_ to tire her, and then turned her +over to the _piqueros_. + +The hacks, tortured by the flies, stamped their feet, pulling on the +rings as if they divined the coming danger. The other horses trotted, +urged on by the riders' spurs. + +Carmen and her brother-in-law had to take refuge under the arcades, and +finally the bull-fighter's wife accepted the invitation to pass into the +chapel. It was a safe and tranquil place and there she could do +something useful for her husband. + +When she entered the sacred room with its atmosphere made dense by the +respiration of the public that had witnessed the bull-fighters' prayers, +Carmen gazed upon the poverty of the altar. Four lights were burning +before the Virgin of the Dove, but this tribute seemed niggardly to her. + +She opened her purse to give a _duro_ to an employee. Could he not bring +more tapers? The man scratched his head. Tapers? Tapers? He did not +believe he could find any among the chattels belonging to the plaza. But +he suddenly recalled to mind the sisters of a _matador_ who brought +candles whenever he fought bulls. Maybe they were not all gone, and +there might be a few in some corner of the chapel. After a long search +he found them. There were no candlesticks, but the employee, a man of +resources, brought a couple of empty bottles, and sticking the candles +into their necks, he lit them and placed them near the other lights. + +Carmen had knelt and the two men took advantage of her immobility to +rush to the plaza, eager to witness the first events of the _corrida_. + +The woman remained lost in contemplation of the crude image reddened by +the lights. She was not familiar with this Virgin, but she must be sweet +and kind like the one in Seville to whom she had so often made +supplication. Moreover, she was the Virgin of the bull-fighters, she +heard their last prayers when danger near at hand gave sincere piety to +those rough men. On that floor her husband had knelt many times. And +this thought was enough to cause her to feel attracted to the image and +to contemplate her with religious trust, as if she had known her since +childhood. + +Her lips moved, repeating the supplications with automatic haste, but +her thoughts fled away from prayer, as if drawn by the noises of the +multitude that reached her. + +Ah! that intermittent volcano-like bellowing, that roar of distant +waves, broken from time to time by pauses of tragic silence! Carmen +imagined herself witnessing the invisible bull-fight. She divined by the +variations in the sounds from the plaza the progress of the tragedy that +was taking place within the ring. Sometimes there was an explosion of +angry shouts with accompaniment of hisses; again thousands and thousands +of voices uttered unintelligible words. Suddenly rose a shriek of +terror, prolonged, shrill, that seemed to rise to heaven; a fearful and +halting exclamation that brought to mind thousands of heads in a row, +blanched by emotion, following the swift race of a bull in pursuit of a +man--until it was suddenly broken by a shout, re-establishing calm. The +danger had passed. + +There were long intervals of silence; a silence absolute; the silence of +the void, in which the buzzing of the flies hovering around the horses +was magnified, as though the immense amphitheatre were deserted, as +though the fourteen thousand persons seated on its surrounding seats had +become motionless and breathless, and Carmen were the only living being +that existed within its heart. + +Suddenly this silence was animated by a loud and indescribable shock as +though every brick in the plaza were loosened from its place and all +were dashing against one another. It was the prolonged applause that +made the ring tremble. In the nearby courtyard sounded blows of the rod +on the hide of the wretched horses, blasphemy, clatter of hoofs, and +voices. "Whose turn?" New lancers were called into the plaza. + +To these noises others nearer were added. Footsteps sounded in the +adjoining rooms, doors opened suddenly, voices and labored breathing of +several men were heard, as if they walked burdened by great weight. + +"It is nothing--a bruise. Thou'rt not bleeding. Before the _corrida_ is +over thou'lt be lancing again." + +A hoarse voice, weakened by pain, groaned between gasps with an accent +that reminded Carmen of home: + +"Virgin of Solitude! I must have broken something. Look well, doctor. +Alas, my children!" + +Carmen shuddered with horror. She raised her eyes that had wandered in +fear to the Virgin. Her nose seemed drawn out by her emotion to a sharp +point between sunken and pallid cheeks. She felt sick; she feared that +she would fall to the floor in a faint from terror. She tried to pray +again, to isolate herself in prayer; to not hear the noises from +without, transmitted through the walls with a tone of despair. But in +spite of her a dismal sound reached her ear of sponges being wet in +water and voices of men who must be doctors and nurses stimulating the +_picador_, who complained with the energy of a mountaineer, at the same +time striving to hide the pain of his broken bones through manly pride. + +"Virgin of Solitude! My children! What will the poor babes have to eat +if their father cannot use the lance?" + +Carmen arose. Ah, she could bear no more! She would fall fainting if she +remained in that gloomy place trembling at the echoes of pain. She +thought she felt in her own bones the same torture that caused that +unknown man to groan. + +She went out into the courtyard. Blood on all sides; blood on the floor +and around some casks where water mingled with the red fluid. + +The _picadores_ were retiring from the ring. The sign for the display of +the _banderillas_ had been given, and the riders came out on their +bleeding horses. They dismounted, talking with animation of the +incidents of the bull-fight. Carmen saw Potaje let his vigorous person +down off his horse hurling a string of curses at the _mono sabio_ who +stupidly assisted him in his descent. He seemed benumbed by his hidden +iron greaves and from the pain of several violent falls. He raised one +hand to his back to ease himself with painful stretches, but he smiled, +showing his yellow horse-like teeth. + +"Have ye seen how well Juan does to-day?" he said to those who +surrounded him. "To-day he surely is all right." + +Seeing a solitary woman in the courtyard, and recognizing her, he showed +no surprise. + +"You here, Sena' Carmen? How good!" + +He spoke tranquilly, as if he, in the stupor which wine and his own +bestiality kept him, could not be surprised by anything in the world. + +"Have you seen Juan?" he continued. "He laid down on the ground before +the bull, under his very nose. Nobody else can do what that fellow does. +Peep in and see him, for he is very fine to-day." + +Some one called him from the door of the infirmary. His companion, the +_picador_, wanted to speak to him before being taken to the hospital. + +"Adio', Sena' Carmen. I must see what that poor fellow wants. A fall +with a fracture, they say. He won't use the lance again this whole +season." + +Carmen took refuge under the arcades and closed her eyes to the +repugnant spectacle in the courtyard, yet at the same time fascinated by +the sickening sight of the blood. + +The _monos sabios_ led in the wounded horses by the bridle reins. A +stable boy, seeing them, began to bestir himself, in a fever of +activity. + +"Courage, brave boys!" he shouted, addressing the youths with the +horses. "Firm! Firm there!" + +A stable-boy carefully approached a horse that was struggling in pain, +took off his saddle, fastened leather straps around his legs, binding +the four extremities, and threw the animal to the ground. + +"There, there! Firm! Firm with him!" the one in charge of the horses +continued shouting, without ceasing his activity. + +Another held the reins of the fallen animal and pressed his poor head +against the ground by placing his foot on it. The nose contracted with +distortions of pain, the long yellow teeth gritted with a chill of +martyrdom, his stifled whinnies lost in the dust from the pressure of +the foot. The gory hands of the others worked to return the flaccid +entrails to the open cavity of the abdomen or stuffed it with handfuls +of tow while still others, with a skill acquired by practice, sewed up +the hide. + +When the horse was "fixed" with barbaric promptness, they threw a bucket +of water over his head, loosed his feet from the straps and gave him +several blows with a rod to make him stand up. Some, after walking +barely two steps, fell flat, shedding a stream of blood from the wound +stitched with pack-thread. It was instantaneous death. Others were kept +alive by some marvellous resource of animal vigor, and the lackeys, +after this "fixing," took them to the "varnishing," inundating their +feet and bellies with strong ablutions from casks of water. The white or +chestnut color of the animals became glossy and the hair dripped a +rose-colored liquid, a mixture of water and blood. The horses were +patched up as if they were old shoes; their waning strength was +exploited to the last breath, prolonging their agony and death. The +important thing was to keep these animals on their feet a few minutes +longer, until the _picadores_ could get into the plaza again; the bull +would take charge of finishing the work. + +Carmen wished to go. Virgin of Hope! What was she doing there? She did +not know the order the _matadores_ were to follow in their work. Maybe +that last trumpet-blast signalled the moment in which her husband would +stand before the wild beast. And she there, a few steps from him, and +not seeing him! She wished to escape, to free herself from this torment. + +Moreover, the blood that ran through the courtyard, and the torment of +those poor beasts, caused her the greatest anguish. Her womanly delicacy +rebelled against these tortures, while she held her handkerchief to her +nostrils to stifle the slaughter-house odors. + +She had never been to a bull-fight. A great part of her existence had +been spent hearing conversation about bulls, but in the tales of these +sports she saw only the external, what all the world saw, the events in +the ring, in the light of the sun, with glitter of silks and +embroideries and the ostentatious spectacle, without realizing the +odious preparations that took place in the mystery of the wings. And +they lived off this "sport," with its repugnant martyrdom of guiltless +animals; and their fortune had been made at the cost of such spectacles! + +A loud applause broke out within the ring. Orders were issued in the +courtyard with imperious voice. The first bull had just died. The +barricade at the end of the passage that communicated with the ring was +opened and the noises of the multitude and the echoes of the music were +borne in with more intensity. + +The mules were in the plaza; one team to collect the dead horses, +another to drag out the bull's carcass. + +Carmen saw her brother-in-law coming along the arcades. He was still +tremulous with enthusiasm over what he had seen. + +"Juan--colossal! This afternoon as he never was before! Fear not. Why, +that boy eats the bulls up alive!" + +Then he glanced at her uneasily, fearful that she would make him lose so +interesting an afternoon. What did she decide? Did she think she had the +courage to peep into the plaza? + +"Take me away!" she said with an agonized accent. "Get me out of here +quickly. I am sick. Leave me in the first church we can find." + +The leather-worker made a wry face. By the life of Roger--! Leave such a +magnificent bull-fight! And as they walked toward the door he was +calculating where he could abandon Carmen so as to immediately return to +the plaza. + + +When the second bull came in, Gallardo, still leaning against the +barrier, was receiving felicitations from his admirers. What courage +that boy had--"when he wished." The whole plaza had applauded the first +bull, forgetting their anger at the former _corridas_. When a _picador_ +fell and lay senseless from the terrible shock, Gallardo had rushed up +with his cape, drawing the wild beast into the centre of the ring. He +made some bold _veronicas_ that at last held the bull motionless and +exhausted, after turning from the lure of the red rag. The bull-fighter, +taking advantage of the animal's stupefaction, stood erect within a few +steps of his muzzle, thrusting his body forward as if in challenge. He +felt the heart-throbbing, that happy precursor of his great daring. He +must conquer the public with a dash of audacity, and he knelt before +the horns with a certain precaution, ready to arise at the slightest +sign of charging. + +The bull stood quiet. Gallardo reached out a hand until he touched the +drivelling muzzle and the animal made no movement whatever. Then he +dared something that held the public in palpitating silence. Slowly he +laid himself down on the sand, with the cape between his arms serving as +a pillow, and thus he remained some seconds lying beneath the nose of +the bull who sniffed him with a kind of fear, as if he suspected danger +in this body that audaciously placed itself beneath his horns. + +When the bull, recovering his aggressive fierceness, lowered his horns, +the bull-fighter rolled toward his feet, in this way putting himself out +of his reach, and the animal passed over him, vainly seeking in his +ferocious blindness the bulk that attacked him. + +Gallardo rose brushing off the dust, and the public, which adored feats +of daring, applauded him with the old-time enthusiasm. It hailed not +alone his audacity, it applauded itself, admiring its own majesty, +guessing that the bull-fighter's daring was to reconcile himself with +it, to regain its affection. Gallardo came to the _corrida_ disposed to +the most daring deeds to reconquer applause. + +"He is careless," they said on the tiers of seats, "often he is slack; +but he has bull-fighter pride and he is going to redeem his name." + +But the enthusiasm of the public, their gay excitement over Gallardo's +achievement, and the true sword-thrust with which the other _matador_ +had killed the first bull, turned to ill-humor and protest as they saw +the second in the ring. He was enormous and of beautiful build, but he +ran through the centre of the arena looking with surprise at the noisy +multitude on the bleachers, frightened at the voices and hisses that +were meant to excite him, fleeing from his own shadow, as if he divined +all kinds of intrigue. The _peones_ ran, waving the cape at him. He +charged at the red rag, following it some instants, but suddenly he gave +a snort of surprise and, turning his hind quarters, fled in the opposite +direction with violent springs. His eagerness for flight infuriated the +public. + +"That's no bull--it's a monkey." + +The swordsmen's capes finally managed to attract it toward the barrier, +where the _picadores_ waited motionless on their mounts, with lance +under arm. He approached a rider with lowered head and with fierce +snorts as if to charge. But before the iron could be lodged in his neck, +he gave a spring and ran, passing through the capes the _peones_ waved +at him. In his flight he met another lancer and repeated the springing, +the snorting and the flight. Then he met the third horseman, who, +thrusting forward his lance, speared him in the neck, by this punishment +only augmenting his fear and his speed. + +The public had risen to its feet _en masse_, gesticulating and shouting. +A tame bull! What an abomination! Every one turned toward the president +roaring his protest. "_Senor Presidente!_" That could not be allowed. + +A chorus of voices that repeated the same words with monotonous +intonation began to rise from some sections. + +"Fire! Fi-i-ire!" + +The president seemed to hesitate. The bull was running, followed by the +combatants, who chased after him, their capes over their arms. When any +of these managed to head him off, or to stop him, he smelt the cloth +with the usual snort and ran in a different direction, jumping and +kicking. + +The noisy protest against these flights increased. "_Senor Presidente_!" +Was his lordship deaf? Bottles, oranges, and seat cushions began to fall +into the ring around the fugitive animal. The public hated it for its +cowardice. One bottle struck on one of the horns and the people +applauded this true shot though not knowing who it was. Many of the +audience leaned forward as if about to throw themselves into the ring to +destroy the bad beast with their hands. What a scandal! To see in the +plaza of Madrid oxen that were only fit for meat! "Fire! Fire!" + +At last the president waved a red handkerchief and a salvo of applause +greeted this signal. + +The fire _banderillas_ were an extraordinary sight; something +unexpected, that augmented the interest of the _corrida_. Many who had +protested until they were hoarse felt inward satisfaction at this +incident. They were going to see the bull roasted alive, running mad +with terror at the fire-streams that would be hanging from his neck. + +Nacional advanced carrying, hanging from his hands, with the points +downward, two thick _banderillas_ that seemed to be encased in black +paper. He went toward the bull without great precaution, as if his +cowardice merited no art whatever, and he lodged the infernal barbs to +the accompaniment of the vengeful applause of the multitude. + +There was a crackling sound as if something broke and two spirals of +white smoke began to blaze on the animal's neck. In the light of the sun +the fire could not be seen, but the hair singed and disappeared and a +black mark extended around the neck. The bull ran, surprised at the +attack, accelerating his flight as though thus to free himself from +torment, until suddenly detonations like gunshots began to burst on his +neck, the burning embers of paper flying around his eyes. The animal +sprang aloft, filled with terror, his four feet in the air at once, +vainly twisting his horned head to pull out with his mouth those demons +clutched upon his neck. The people laughed and applauded, thinking his +springs and contortions funny. It seemed as if, with his strong heavy +body, he were executing a trained animal's dance. + +"How they sting him," they exclaimed, with ferocious laughter. + +The _banderillas_ ceased crackling and bursting. His carbonized neck was +covered with blisters of fat. The bull, no longer feeling the burning of +the fire, stood motionless, breathing hard, his head lowered, thrusting +out his dry dark-red tongue. + +Another _banderillero_ approached him and put in a second pair. The +smoke spirals rose again above the charred flesh, the shots resounded +and the bull ran madly, trying to reach his neck with his mouth by +twisting his massive body; but now his movements were less violent, as +though the vigorous animal began to habituate itself to martyrdom. + +Still a third pair was lodged, and his neck became carbonized, shedding +through the ring a nauseating odor of melted grease, burnt hide, and +hair consumed by fire. + +The public continued applauding with vengeful frenzy, as though the +gentle animal were an adversary of their beliefs and they did a pious +deed in burning him. They laughed when they saw him tremulous on his +legs, moving his flanks like the sides of a bellows, lowing with a +shrieking howl of pain, his eyes reddened, and dragging his tongue over +the sand, greedy for a sensation of coolness. + +Gallardo, leaning against the barrier, near the president's box, awaited +the sign to kill. Garabato had the sword and _muleta_ ready on the edge +of the wall. + +"Curse it!" The bull-fight had begun so well, and for bad luck to +reserve this bull for him, the one he himself had chosen on account of +its fine appearance, but which now that it trod the arena turned out to +be tame! + +He excused himself in advance for defective work, talking with the +"intelligent" who occupied seats near the barrier. + +"What can be done will be done--and no more," he said, shrugging his +shoulders. + +Then he turned toward the boxes, gazing at Dona Sol's. She had applauded +him before, when he achieved his stupendous feat of lying down before +the bull. Her gloved hands clapped with enthusiasm when he turned toward +the barrier, bowing to the public. When Dona Sol saw that the +bull-fighter was looking at her, she bowed to him with an affectionate +manner, and even her companion, despicable fool! had joined this +salutation with a stiff inclination of the body as if he were going to +break off at the waist. Afterward he had several times surprised her +glasses directed persistently at him, seeking him out in his retirement +between barriers. That _gachi_! Perhaps she felt re-attracted to him. +Gallardo decided to call on her next day, to see if the wind had +changed. + +The signal to kill was given and the swordsman, after a short speech, +strode up to the animal. + +His admirers shouted advice. + +"Despatch him quick! He is an ox that deserves nothing." + +The bull-fighter held his _muleta_ before the animal, which charged, but +with a slow step made cautious by torture, with a manifest intention of +crushing, of wounding, as if martyrdom had awakened all his ferocity. +That man was the first object which had placed itself before his horns +since the torture. + +The multitude felt its vengeful animosity against the bull vanish. He +did not recover himself badly; he charged. _Ole!_ And all hailed the +_pases de muleta_ with enthusiasm, including combatant and wild beast in +common approbation. + +The bull stood motionless, lowering his head, with his tongue +protruding. Silence, the forerunner of the mortal thrust, fell; a +silence greater than that of absolute solitude, product of many +thousands of bated breaths; silence so intense that the faintest sound +in the ring carried to the most distant seats. All heard a slight +clashing of sticks striking against each other. It was the sound made +when Gallardo with the point of his sword laid back over the bull's neck +the charred shafts of the _banderillas_ that rested between the horns. +After this arrangement to facilitate the blow, the multitude thrust +their heads still farther forward, responsive to the mysterious +correspondence that had just been established between its will and that +of the _matador_. "Now!" He was going to fell the bull with a masterful +stroke. All divined the swordsman's resolution. + +Gallardo threw himself upon the bull and the whole audience breathed +hard in unison after the nerve-straining pause. The animal drew away +from the encounter, running, bellowing with fury, while the rows of +seats burst out into hisses and protests. As usual! Gallardo had turned +away his face and bent his arm at the moment of killing. The animal bore +in his neck the loose and wavering sword, and after taking a few steps +the steel blade sprang out of the flesh and rolled on the sand. + +Part of the public rebuked Gallardo. The charm that had united the +swordsman to the multitude at the beginning of the feast was broken. +Lack of confidence reappeared; criticism of the bull-fighter spread. All +seemed to have forgotten the enthusiasm of a short time before. + +Gallardo recovered his sword and with bowed head, lacking spirit to +protest at the ingratitude of a multitude tolerant to others, inflexible +with him, strode up to the bull again. + +In his confusion he thought he saw a bull-fighter place himself at his +side. It must be Nacional. + +"Be calm, Juan! Don't get rattled." + +"Damn it!" Must the same thing always happen to him? Could he no longer +thrust his arm between the horns, as in other times, burying the sword +to the hilt? Was he to spend the rest of his life making audiences +laugh? An ox which they had had to set on fire! + +He placed himself before the animal, which seemed to await him, his legs +motionless as if he wished to put an end immediately to his long +torture. He would not make more passes with the _muleta_. He squared +himself, the red rag held near the ground, the sword horizontal at the +height of his eyes. Now for the stroke! + +The audience rose to its feet with a sudden impulse. For some seconds +man and beast formed but a single mass and thus moved a few steps. The +most intelligent raised their hands ready to applaud. He had thrown +himself to kill as in his better days. A master stroke! + +But suddenly the man emerged from between the horns hurled like a +projectile by a powerful toss of the bull's head, and rolled along the +sand. The bull lowered his head and his horns hooked up the body, +raising it from the ground an instant and letting it fall, to continue +on his race, bearing in his neck the blade of the sword, embedded to the +cross! + +Gallardo slowly raised himself and the plaza burst forth into a +deafening applause, eager to repair its injustice. Hurrah! Good for the +bull-fighter of Seville! He had done well! + +But the bull-fighter did not respond to these exclamations of +enthusiasm. He put his hands on his abdomen, bent over in an attitude of +pain, and took a few hesitating steps with lowered head. Twice he raised +it and looked toward the door of exit--as if he feared he could not find +it, staggering blindly as though intoxicated. + +Suddenly he fell upon the sand--contracted like an enormous worm of silk +and gold. Four _mozos_ of the plaza slowly lifted him up until they +raised him on their shoulders. Nacional joined the group holding the +swordsman's ghastly head with its glassy eyes showing through their +half-closed lashes. + +The public made a movement of surprise, ceasing their applause. Every +one gazed about, undecided as to the gravity of the event. But suddenly +optimistic news circulated, coming from no one knew where; that +anonymous opinion, which all heed and which at certain moments fires a +multitude or causes it to remain motionless. It was nothing. A wound in +the abdomen that deprived him of his senses. No one had seen blood. + +The crowd, suddenly tranquillized, began to be seated again, turning its +attention from the wounded bull-fighter to the wild beast, which was +still on its feet, resisting the agonies of death. + +Nacional helped to place his _maestro_ on a bed in the infirmary. He +fell on it like a sack, inanimate, his arms hanging outside the couch. + +Sebastian, though he had often seen his _maestro_ wounded and bleeding, +and had kept his serenity in spite of it, now felt an agony of fear, +seeing him inert and of a greenish white color, as if he were dead. + +"By the life of the blue dove!" he moaned. "Are there no doctors? Is +there nobody here?" + +The man in charge of the hospital, after sending away the mangled +_picador_, had rushed back to his box in the plaza. + +The _banderillero_ was in despair; the seconds seemed hours; he screamed +to Garabato and to Potaje who had followed after him, not sure what he +was trying to tell them. + +Two doctors came and after closing the door so that no one could disturb +them, they stood undecided before the swordsman's inanimate body. He +must be undressed. Garabato began to unbutton, rip, and tear the +bull-fighter's clothing, by the light that entered through a window in +the ceiling. + +Nacional could hardly see the body. The doctors stood around the wounded +man, consulting each other with significant glances. It must be a +collapse that had apparently deprived him of life. No blood was seen. +The rents in his clothing were the effect, no doubt, of the tumbling the +bull had given him. + +Doctor Ruiz entered hastily and his colleagues made way for him, +respecting his skill. He swore in his nervous precipitation while he +began to assist Garabato to open the bull-fighter's clothing. + +There was a movement of astonishment, of painful surprise, around the +bed. The _banderillero_ dared not inquire. He looked between the heads +of the doctors and saw Gallardo's body with the shirt raised above his +breast. The naked abdomen was gashed by a tortuous aperture like +bleeding lips, through which appeared patches of bright blue. + +Doctor Ruiz sadly shook his head. Besides the atrocious and incurable +wound, the bull-fighter had received a tremendous shock from the bull's +tossing. He did not breathe. + +"Doctor--doctor!" cried the _banderillero_, begging to know the truth. + +Doctor Ruiz, after a long silence, shook his head again. + +"It is all over, Sebastian. Thou must seek another _matador_." + +Nacional raised his eyes aloft. Thus to end a man like that, unable to +press the hand of his friends, without a word, suddenly, like a +miserable rabbit struck in the neck! + +In despair he left the infirmary. Ah, he could not see that! He was not +like Potaje who stood quiet and frowning at the foot of the bed, +contemplating the body as though he did not see it, while he twirled his +beaver hat in his fingers. + +He was about to cry like a child. His breast heaved with anguish, and +his eyes filled with tears. + +He had to make way through the courtyard to give passage to the +_picadores_ who were entering the ring again. + +The terrible news began to circulate through the plaza. Gallardo was +dead! Some doubted the truth of the information; others accepted it; +still no one moved from his seat. The third bull was soon to come in. +The _corrida_ had not yet reached its first half, and there was no +reason for abandoning it. + +Through the door of the ring came the murmur of the multitude and the +sound of music. + +The _banderillero_ felt a fierce hatred born within him for all that +surrounded him; an aversion to his profession and to the public that +supported it. In his memory danced the sonorous words with which he had +made the people laugh, finding in them now a new expression of justice. + +He thought of the bull which was at that moment being dragged out of the +arena, its neck burned and blood-stained, its legs rigid, and its glassy +eyes staring at blue space as do those of the dead. + +Then in imagination he saw the friend who lay but a few steps away from +him on the other side of a brick wall, also motionless and stiff, his +breast bare, his abdomen torn open, a glazed and mysterious brilliancy +between his half-closed lashes. + +Poor bull! Poor _matador_! + +Suddenly the murmuring amphitheatre burst forth into a bellowing, +hailing the continuation of the spectacle. Nacional closed his eyes and +clenched his fists. + +It was the bellowing of the wild beast, the real and only one! + + +THE END + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Blood of the Arena, by Vicente Blasco Ibanez + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLOOD OF THE ARENA *** + +***** This file should be named 33799.txt or 33799.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/7/9/33799/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images available at The Internet Archive) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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