“Several dozens, of which more than half were given, and for the rest we paid six reales and a half. A few were not willing to give.”
“All right. To think that a man like me should occupy himself with fowls in days like these! What’s that you say? Some were not willing to give? The Captain-General authorized me to impose fines upon those who do not contribute to the defence. We will just gently get the law on those milksops and traitors. Hark, señors! A bomb fell then in the neighborhood of the Torre Nueva. Did you see it? Did you hear it? What a horrible explosion! I’ll wager that it is Divine Providence more than the French batteries that have sent it against the house of that petrified, soulless Jew who looks on with indifference and contempt at his neighbors’ distress. People are running that way. It seems that the house is on fire, or falling down. No, don’t you run, you miserable fellows. Let it burn, let it fall to the earth in a thousand pieces. It is the house of the miser Candiola, who would not give one peseta to save the whole human race from a new deluge. Eh, where are you going? You are going to run there too? No, come along. Follow me! We can be of more use elsewhere.”
We were going in a crowd to the Orphanage. Augustine, impelled no doubt by the beating of his heart, suddenly started as if to direct his steps towards the Plazuela San Felipe, following the great crowd hastening towards that place. But detained forcibly by his father he continued, though with bad grace, in our company. Something was certainly burning near the Torre Nueva, and on the tower the precious arabesques and bricks shone redly, because of the nearness of the fire. That graceful leaning column could be distinguished, crimson in the black night, and at the same time from its huge belfry a great lamentation fell upon the air.
We reached San Pablo.
“Go on, boys, loungers! Help those who are opening the ditch. It must be wide and deep. It is a garment wherein they will enrobe forty bodies.”
We began upon the work, digging earth from the ditch which was being opened in the court of the church. Augustine was digging with me, but at every instant he turned his eyes in the direction of the Torre Nueva.
“It is a terrible fire. It seems as if it is going down a little, Gabriel. I long to throw myself into this grave which we are opening.”
“Don’t be in a hurry,” I answered him. “Perhaps tomorrow will throw us into it without our asking. This is no time for foolishness; it is time to work.”
“Do you not see? I believe that the fire is extinguished.”
“Yes, the whole house has probably burned down. Candiola was sure to be shut up in his cellar with his money, and the fire couldn’t reach him. Don’t worry.”
“Gabriel, I must go there, if only for a moment. I wish to see if the fire was really in his house. If my father returns, tell him that I will be back in a second.”
The sudden appearance of Don José de Montoria prevented Augustine making the flight which he had just planned, and we two continued digging in the great sepulchre. They began to bring out bodies; and the sick and wounded, who were constantly being brought from without, saw, as they were taken into the church, the wide bed which we were preparing for them. At last the ditch was sufficiently deep, and we were ordered to cease digging. The work went on, and corpses were brought, one by one, and cast into the great sepulchre, while clergymen and pious women upon their knees repeated the mournful words of the service. There was room enough for all, and nothing remained to be done for them but to cover them with earth. Don José Montoria, with head uncovered, reciting in a low voice a paternoster, threw the first handful. Then our shovels and spades began with all speed to cover them. Our work ended, we all knelt down, and prayed in hushed tones. Augustine Montoria said to me when this was done—
“We will go now. My father will march himself off. Go and tell him that we are going to relieve two friends on duty who have a sick one in their family and wish us to see him. Tell him, for God’s sake! I haven’t the courage, then in an instant we can be there.”
XV
We deceived the old man and went. The night was now far advanced, as the interment which I have just described had lasted more than three hours. The light of the fire could no longer be seen. The mass of the tower was lost in the darkness of night, and its great bell did not sound except now and then to announce the coming of a bomb. We arrived soon at the Plazuela of San Felipe. Seeing the roof of a house near the church still smoking, we knew that it was this, and not the house of Candiola, which three hours before the flames had attacked.
“God has preserved it!” cried Augustine, joyously. “If the meanness of her father should bring divine anger upon that roof, the virtues and innocence of Mariquilla would preserve it! Let us go there.”
In the Plazuela of San Felipe there were a few people, but the Calle de Anton Trillo
