CARMEN

by Prosper Merimee

Translated by Lady Mary Loyd

CHAPTER I

I had always suspected the geographical authorities did not know whatthey were talking about when they located the battlefield of Munda inthe county of the Bastuli-Poeni, close to the modern Monda, some twoleagues north of Marbella. 

According to my own surmise, founded on the text of the anonymous authorof the _Bellum Hispaniense_, and on certain information culled from theexcellent library owned by the Duke of Ossuna, I believed the site ofthe memorable struggle in which Caesar played double or quits, once andfor all, with the champions of the Republic, should be sought in theneighbourhood of Montilla. 

Happening to be in Andalusia during the autumn of 1830, I made asomewhat lengthy excursion, with the object of clearing up certaindoubts which still oppressed me. A paper which I shall shortly publishwill, I trust, remove any hesitation that may still exist in the mindsof all honest archaeologists. But before that dissertation of minefinally settles the geographical problem on the solution of which thewhole of learned Europe hangs, I desire to relate a little tale. It willdo no prejudice to the interesting question of the correct locality ofMonda. 

I had hired a guide and a couple of horses at Cordova, and hadstarted on my way with no luggage save a few shirts, and Caesar's_Commentaries_. As I wandered, one day, across the higher lands of theCachena plain, worn with fatigue, parched with thirst, scorched by aburning sun, cursing Caesar and Pompey's sons alike, most heartily, myeye lighted, at some distance from the path I was following, on a littlestretch of green sward dotted with reeds and rushes. That betokened theneighbourhood of some spring, and, indeed, as I drew nearer I perceivedthat what had looked like sward was a marsh, into which a stream, whichseemed to issue from a narrow gorge between two high spurs of the Sierradi Cabra, ran and disappeared. 

If I rode up that stream, I argued, I was likely to find cooler water, fewer leeches and frogs, and mayhap a little shade among the rocks. 

At the mouth of the gorge, my horse neighed, and another horse, invisible to me, neighed back. Before I had advanced a hundred paces, the gorge suddenly widened, and I beheld a sort of natural amphitheatre, thoroughly shaded by the steep cliffs that lay all around it. It wasimpossible to imagine any more delightful halting place for a traveller. At the foot of the precipitous rocks, the stream bubbled upward and fellinto a little basin, lined with sand that was as white as snow. Five orsix splendid evergreen oaks, sheltered from the wind, and cooled by thespring, grew beside the pool, and shaded it with their thick foliage. And round about it a close and glossy turf offered the wanderer a betterbed than he could have found in any hostelry for ten leagues round. 

The honour of discovering this fair spot did not belong to me. A man wasresting there already--sleeping, no doubt--before I reached it. Rousedby the neighing of the horses, he had risen to his feet and had movedover to his mount, which had been taking advantage of its master'sslumbers to make a hearty feed on the grass that grew around. He was anactive young fellow, of middle height, but powerful in build, and proudand sullen-looking in expression. His complexion, which may once havebeen fine, had been tanned by the sun till it was darker than his hair. One of his hands grasped his horse's halter. In the other he held abrass blunderbuss. 

At the first blush, I confess, the blunderbuss, and the savage looksof the man who bore it, somewhat took me aback. But I had heard so muchabout robbers, that, never seeing any, I had ceased to believe in theirexistence. And further, I had seen so many honest farmers arm themselvesto the teeth before they went out to market, that the sight of firearmsgave me no warrant for doubting the character of any stranger. "Andthen, " quoth I to myself, "what could he do with my shirts and myElzevir edition of Caesar's _Commentaries_?" So I bestowed a friendlynod on the man with the blunderbuss, and inquired, with a smile, whetherI had disturbed his nap. Without any answer, he looked me over fromhead to foot. Then, as if the scrutiny had satisfied him, he looked asclosely at my guide, who was just coming up. I saw the guide turn pale, and pull up with an air of evident alarm. "An unlucky meeting!" thoughtI to myself. But prudence instantly counselled me not to let any symptomof anxiety escape me. So I dismounted. I told the guide to take off thehorses' bridles, and kneeling down beside the spring, I laved my headand hands and then drank a long draught, lying flat on my belly, likeGideon's soldiers. 

Meanwhile, I watched the stranger, and my own guide. This last seemed tocome forward unwillingly. But the other did not appear to have any evildesigns upon us. For he had turned his horse loose, and the blunderbuss, which he had been holding horizontally, was now dropped earthward. 

Not thinking it necessary to take offence at the scant attention paidme, I stretched myself full length upon the grass, and calmly asked theowner of the blunderbuss whether he had a light about him. At the sametime I pulled out my cigar-case. The stranger, still without opening hislips, took out his flint, and lost no time in getting me a light. He wasevidently growing tamer, for he sat down opposite to me, though he stillgrasped his weapon. When I had lighted my cigar, I chose out the best Ihad left, and asked him whether he smoked. 

"Yes, senor, " he replied. These were the first words I had heard himspeak, and I noticed that he did not pronounce the letter _s_* in theAndalusian fashion, whence I concluded he was a traveller, like myself, though, maybe, somewhat less of an archaeologist. 

 * The Andalusians aspirate the _s_, and pronounce it like the soft _c_ and the _z_, which Spaniards pronounce like the English _th_. An Andalusian may always be recognised by the way in which he says _senor_. 

"You'll find this a fairly good one, " said I, holding out a real Havanaregalia. 

He bowed his head slightly, lighted his cigar at mine, thanked mewith another nod, and began to smoke with a most lively appearance ofenjoyment. 

"Ah!" he exclaimed, as he blew his first puff of smoke slowly out of hisears and nostrils. "What a time it is since I've had a smoke!"

In Spain the giving and accepting of a cigar establishes bonds ofhospitality similar to those founded in Eastern countries on thepartaking of bread and salt. My friend turned out more talkative thanI had hoped. However, though he claimed to belong to the _partido_ ofMontilla, he seemed very ill-informed about the country. He did not knowthe name of the delightful valley in which we were sitting, he couldnot tell me the names of any of the neighbouring villages, and when Iinquired whether he had not noticed any broken-down walls, broad-rimmedtiles, or carved stones in the vicinity, he confessed he had never paidany heed to such matters. On the other hand, he showed himself an expertin horseflesh, found fault with my mount--not a difficult affair--andgave me a pedigree of his own, which had come from the famous stud atCordova. It was a splendid creature, indeed, so tough, according toits owner's claim, that it had once covered thirty leagues in one day, either at the gallop or at full trot the whole time. In the midst of hisstory the stranger pulled up short, as if startled and sorry he had saidso much. "The fact is I was in a great hurry to get to Cordova, " hewent on, somewhat embarrassed. "I had to petition the judges about alawsuit. " As he spoke, he looked at my guide Antonio, who had droppedhis eyes. 

The spring and the cool shade were so delightful that I bethought meof certain slices of an excellent ham, which my friends at Montilla hadpacked into my guide's wallet. I bade him produce them, and invited thestranger to share our impromptu lunch. If he had not smoked for a longtime, he certainly struck me as having fasted for eight-and-forty hoursat the very least. He ate like a starving wolf, and I thought to myselfthat my appearance must really have been quite providential for the poorfellow. Meanwhile my guide ate but little, drank still less, and spokenever a word, although in the earlier part of our journey he had provedhimself a most unrivalled chatterer. He seemed ill at ease in thepresence of our guest, and a sort of mutual distrust, the cause of whichI could not exactly fathom, seemed to be between them. 

The last crumbs of bread and scraps of ham had disappeared. We had eachsmoked our second cigar; I told the guide to bridle the horses, and wasjust about to take leave of my new friend, when he inquired where I wasgoing to spend the night. 

Before I had time to notice a sign my guide was making to me I hadreplied that I was going to the Venta del Cuervo. 

"That's a bad lodging for a gentleman like you, sir! I'm bound theremyself, and if you'll allow me to ride with you, we'll go together. "

"With pleasure!" I replied, mounting my horse. The guide, who washolding my stirrup, looked at me meaningly again. I answered byshrugging my shoulders, as though to assure him I was perfectly easy inmy mind, and we started on our way. 

Antonio's mysterious signals, his evident anxiety, a few words droppedby the stranger, above all, his ride of thirty leagues, and the far fromplausible explanation he had given us of it, had already enabled meto form an opinion as to the identity of my fellow-traveller. I hadno doubt at all I was in the company of a smuggler, and possibly of abrigand. What cared I? I knew enough of the Spanish character to be verycertain I had nothing to fear from a man who had eaten and smokedwith me. His very presence would protect me in case of any undesirablemeeting. And besides, I was very glad to know what a brigand was reallylike. One doesn't come across such gentry every day. And there is acertain charm about finding one's self in close proximity to a dangerousbeing, especially when one feels the being in question to be gentle andtame. 

I was hoping the stranger might gradually fall into a confidentialmood, and in spite of my guide's winks, I turned the conversation tothe subject of highwaymen. I need scarcely say that I spoke of them withgreat respect. At that time there was a famous brigand in Andalusia, ofthe name of Jose-Maria, whose exploits were on every lip. "Supposing Ishould be riding along with Jose-Maria!" said I to myself. I told allthe stories I knew about the hero--they were all to his credit, indeed, and loudly expressed my admiration of his generosity and his valour. 

"Jose-Maria is nothing but a blackguard, " said the stranger gravely. 

"Is he just to himself, or is this an excess of modesty?" I queried, mentally, for by dint of scrutinizing my companion, I had ended byreconciling his appearance with the description of Jose-Maria which Iread posted up on the gates of various Andalusian towns. "Yes, this mustbe he--fair hair, blue eyes, large mouth, good teeth, small hands, fineshirt, a velvet jacket with silver buttons on it, white leather gaiters, and a bay horse. Not a doubt about it. But his _incognito_ shall berespected!" We reached the _venta_. It was just what he had describedto me. In other words, the most wretched hole of its kind I had as yetbeheld. One large apartment served as kitchen, dining-room, and sleepingchamber. A fire was burning on a flat stone in the middle of the room, and the smoke escaped through a hole in the roof, or rather hung in acloud some feet above the soil. Along the walls five or six mule rugswere spread on the floor. These were the travellers' beds. Twenty pacesfrom the house, or rather from the solitary apartment which I have justdescribed, stood a sort of shed, that served for a stable. 

The only inhabitants of this delightful dwelling visible at the moment, at all events, were an old woman, and a little girl of ten or twelveyears old, both of them as black as soot, and dressed in loathsome rags. "Here's the sole remnant of the ancient populations of Munda Boetica, "said I to myself. "O Caesar! O Sextus Pompeius, if you were to revisitthis earth how astounded you would be!"

When the old woman saw my travelling companion an exclamation ofsurprise escaped her. "Ah! Senor Don Jose!" she cried. 

Don Jose frowned and lifted his hand with a gesture of authority thatforthwith silenced the old dame. 

I turned to my guide and gave him to understand, by a sign that no oneelse perceived, that I knew all about the man in whose company I wasabout to spend the night. Our supper was better than I expected. Ona little table, only a foot high, we were served with an old rooster, fricasseed with rice and numerous peppers, then more peppers in oil, and finally a _gaspacho_--a sort of salad made of peppers. These threehighly spiced dishes involved our frequent recourse to a goatskin filledwith Montella wine, which struck us as being delicious. 

After our meal was over, I caught sight of a mandolin hanging up againstthe wall--in Spain you see mandolins in every corner--and I asked thelittle girl, who had been waiting on us, if she knew how to play it. 

"No, " she replied. "But Don Jose does play well!"

"Do me the kindness to sing me something, " I said to him, "I'mpassionately fond of your national music. "

"I can't refuse to do anything for such a charming gentleman, who givesme such excellent cigars, " responded Don Jose gaily, and having madethe child give him the mandolin, he sang to his own accompaniment. Hisvoice, though rough, was pleasing, the air he sang was strange and sad. As to the words, I could not understand a single one of them. 

"If I am not mistaken, " said I, "that's not a Spanish air you have justbeen singing. It's like the _zorzicos_ I've heard in the Provinces, * andthe words must be in the Basque language. "

* The _privileged Provinces_, Alava, Biscay, Guipuzcoa, and a part ofNavarre, which all enjoy special _fueros_. The Basque language is spokenin these countries. 

"Yes, " said Don Jose, with a gloomy look. He laid the mandolin down onthe ground, and began staring with a peculiarly sad expression at thedying fire. His face, at once fierce and noble-looking, reminded me, as the firelight fell on it, of Milton's Satan. Like him, perchance, my comrade was musing over the home he had forfeited, the exile he hadearned, by some misdeed. I tried to revive the conversation, but soabsorbed was he in melancholy thought, that he gave me no answer. 

The old woman had already gone to rest in a corner of the room, behinda ragged rug hung on a rope. The little girl had followed her into thisretreat, sacred to the fair sex. Then my guide rose, and suggested thatI should go with him to the stable. But at the word Don Jose, waking, asit were, with a start, inquired sharply whither he was going. 

"To the stable, " answered the guide. 

"What for? The horses have been fed! You can sleep here. The senor willgive you leave. "

"I'm afraid the senor's horse is sick. I'd like the senor to see it. Perhaps he'd know what should be done for it. "

It was quite clear to me that Antonio wanted to speak to me apart. 

But I did not care to rouse Don Jose's suspicions, and being as wewere, I thought far the wisest course for me was to appear absolutelyconfident. 

I therefore told Antonio that I knew nothing on earth about horses, andthat I was desperately sleepy. Don Jose followed him to the stable, andsoon returned alone. He told me there was nothing the matter with thehorse, but that my guide considered the animal such a treasure that hewas scrubbing it with his jacket to make it sweat, and expected to spendthe night in that pleasing occupation. Meanwhile I had stretched myselfout on the mule rugs, having carefully wrapped myself up in my owncloak, so as to avoid touching them. Don Jose, having begged me toexcuse the liberty he took in placing himself so near me, lay downacross the door, but not until he had primed his blunderbuss afresh andcarefully laid it under the wallet, which served him as a pillow. 

I had thought I was so tired that I should be able to sleep even in sucha lodging. But within an hour a most unpleasant itching sensation rousedme from my first nap. As soon as I realized its nature, I rose to myfeet, feeling convinced I should do far better to spend the rest ofthe night in the open air than beneath that inhospitable roof. Walkingtiptoe I reached the door, stepped over Don Jose, who was sleeping thesleep of the just, and managed so well that I got outside the buildingwithout waking him. Just beside the door there was a wide woodenbench. I lay down upon it, and settled myself, as best I could, for theremainder of the night. I was just closing my eyes for a second timewhen I fancied I saw the shadow of a man and then the shadow of a horsemoving absolutely noiselessly, one behind the other. I sat upright, andthen I thought I recognised Antonio. Surprised to see him outside thestable at such an hour, I got up and went toward him. He had seen mefirst, and had stopped to wait for me. 

"Where is he?" Antonio inquired in a low tone. 

"In the _venta_. He's asleep. The bugs don't trouble him. But what areyou going to do with that horse?" I then noticed that, to stifle allnoise as he moved out of the shed, Antonio had carefully muffled thehorse's feet in the rags of an old blanket. 

"Speak lower, for God's sake, " said Antonio. "You don't know who thatman is. He's Jose Navarro, the most noted bandit in Andalusia. I've beenmaking signs to you all day long, and you wouldn't understand. "

"What do I care whether he's a brigand or not, " I replied. "He hasn'trobbed us, and I'll wager he doesn't want to. "

"That may be. But there are two hundred ducats on his head. Some lancersare stationed in a place I know, a league and a half from here, andbefore daybreak I'll bring a few brawny fellows back with me. I'd havetaken his horse away, but the brute's so savage that nobody but Navarrocan go near it. "

"Devil take you!" I cried. "What harm has the poor fellow done you thatyou should want to inform against him? And besides, are you certain heis the brigand you take him for?"

"Perfectly certain! He came after me into the stable just now, and said, 'You seem to know me. If you tell that good gentleman who I am, I'llblow your brains out!' You stay here, sir, keep close to him. You'venothing to fear. As long as he knows you are there, he won't suspectanything. "

As we talked, we had moved so far from the _venta_ that the noise of thehorse's hoofs could not be heard there. In a twinkling Antonio snatchedoff the rags he had wrapped around the creature's feet, and was justabout to climb on its back. In vain did I attempt with prayers andthreats to restrain him. 

"I'm only a poor man, senor, " quoth he, "I can't afford to lose twohundred ducats--especially when I shall earn them by ridding the countryof such vermin. But mind what you're about! If Navarro wakes up, he'llsnatch at his blunderbuss, and then look out for yourself! I've gone toofar now to turn back. Do the best you can for yourself!"

The villain was in his saddle already, he spurred his horse smartly, andI soon lost sight of them both in the darkness. 

I was very angry with my guide, and terribly alarmed as well. After amoment's reflection, I made up my mind, and went back to the _venta_. Don Jose was still sound asleep, making up, no doubt, for the fatigueand sleeplessness of several days of adventure. I had to shake himroughly before I could wake him up. Never shall I forget his fiercelook, and the spring he made to get hold of his blunderbuss, which, as aprecautionary measure, I had removed to some distance from his couch. 

"Senor, " I said, "I beg your pardon for disturbing you. But I have asilly question to ask you. Would you be glad to see half a dozen lancerswalk in here?"

He bounded to his feet, and in an awful voice he demanded:

"Who told you?"

"It's little matter whence the warning comes, so long as it be good. "

"Your guide has betrayed me--but he shall pay for it! Where is he?"

"I don't know. In the stable, I fancy. But somebody told me--"

"Who told you? It can't be the old hag--"

"Some one I don't know. Without more parleying, tell me, yes or no, haveyou any reason for not waiting till the soldiers come? If you haveany, lose no time! If not, good-night to you, and forgive me for havingdisturbed your slumbers!"

"Ah, your guide! Your guide! I had my doubts of him at first--but--I'llsettle with him! Farewell, senor. May God reward you for the serviceI owe you! I am not quite so wicked as you think me. Yes, I still havesomething in me that an honest man may pity. Farewell, senor! I haveonly one regret--that I can not pay my debt to you!"

"As a reward for the service I have done you, Don Jose, promise meyou'll suspect nobody--nor seek for vengeance. Here are some cigars foryour journey. Good luck to you. " And I held out my hand to him. 

He squeezed it, without a word, took up his wallet and blunderbuss, andafter saying a few words to the old woman in a lingo that I could notunderstand, he ran out to the shed. A few minutes later, I heard himgalloping out into the country. 

As for me, I lay down again on my bench, but I did not go to sleepagain. I queried in my own mind whether I had done right to save arobber, and possibly a murderer, from the gallows, simply and solelybecause I had eaten ham and rice in his company. Had I not betrayed myguide, who was supporting the cause of law and order? Had I notexposed him to a ruffian's vengeance? But then, what about the laws ofhospitality?

"A mere savage prejudice, " said I to myself. "I shall have to answer forall the crimes this brigand may commit in future. " Yet is that instinctof the conscience which resists every argument really a prejudice? Itmay be I could not have escaped from the delicate position in which Ifound myself without remorse of some kind. I was still tossed to andfro, in the greatest uncertainty as to the morality of my behaviour, when I saw half a dozen horsemen ride up, with Antonio prudently laggingbehind them. I went to meet them, and told them the brigand had fledover two hours previously. The old woman, when she was questioned by thesergeant, admitted that she knew Navarro, but said that living alone, as she did, she would never have dared to risk her life by informingagainst him. She added that when he came to her house, he habituallywent away in the middle of the night. I, for my part, was made to rideto a place some leagues away, where I showed my passport, and signed adeclaration before the _Alcalde_. This done, I was allowed to recommencemy archaeological investigations. Antonio was sulky with me; suspectingit was I who had prevented his earning those two hundred ducats. Nevertheless, we parted good friends at Cordova, where I gave him aslarge a gratuity as the state of my finances would permit. 

CHAPTER II

I spent several days at Cordova. I had been told of a certain manuscriptin the library of the Dominican convent which was likely to furnish mewith very interesting details about the ancient Munda. The good fathersgave me the most kindly welcome. I spent the daylight hours within theirconvent, and at night I walked about the town. At Cordova a great manyidlers collect, toward sunset, in the quay that runs along the rightbank of the Guadalquivir. Promenaders on the spot have to breathe theodour of a tan yard which still keeps up the ancient fame of the countryin connection with the curing of leather. But to atone for this, theyenjoy a sight which has a charm of its own. A few minutes before theAngelus bell rings, a great company of women gathers beside the river, just below the quay, which is rather a high one. Not a man would dareto join its ranks. The moment the Angelus rings, darkness is supposed tohave fallen. As the last stroke sounds, all the women disrobe and stepinto the water. Then there is laughing and screaming and a wonderfulclatter. The men on the upper quay watch the bathers, strainingtheir eyes, and seeing very little. Yet the white uncertain outlinesperceptible against the dark-blue waters of the stream stir the poeticmind, and the possessor of a little fancy finds it not difficult toimagine that Diana and her nymphs are bathing below, while he himselfruns no risk of ending like Acteon. 

I have been told that one day a party of good-for-nothing fellows bandedthemselves together, and bribed the bell-ringer at the cathedral to ringthe Angelus some twenty minutes before the proper hour. Though it wasstill broad daylight, the nymphs of the Guadalquivir never hesitated, and putting far more trust in the Angelus bell than in the sun, theyproceeded to their bathing toilette--always of the simplest--with aneasy conscience. I was not present on that occasion. In my day, thebell-ringer was incorruptible, the twilight was very dim, and nobody buta cat could have distinguished the difference between the oldest orangewoman, and the prettiest shop-girl, in Cordova. 

One evening, after it had grown quite dusk, I was leaning over theparapet of the quay, smoking, when a woman came up the steps leadingfrom the river, and sat down near me. In her hair she wore a greatbunch of jasmine--a flower which, at night, exhales a most intoxicatingperfume. She was dressed simply, almost poorly, in black, as mostwork-girls are dressed in the evening. Women of the richer class onlywear black in the daytime, at night they dress _a la francesa_. When shedrew near me, the woman let the mantilla which had covered her headdrop on her shoulders, and "by the dim light falling from the stars" Iperceived her to be young, short in stature, well-proportioned, and withvery large eyes. I threw my cigar away at once. She appreciated thismark of courtesy, essentially French, and hastened to inform me that shewas very fond of the smell of tobacco, and that she even smoked herself, when she could get very mild _papelitos_. I fortunately happened to havesome such in my case, and at once offered them to her. She condescendedto take one, and lighted it at a burning string which a child broughtus, receiving a copper for its pains. We mingled our smoke, and talkedso long, the fair lady and I, that we ended by being almost alone onthe quay. I thought I might venture, without impropriety, to suggest ourgoing to eat an ice at the _neveria_. * After a moment of modest demur, she agreed. But before finally accepting, she desired to know whato'clock it was. I struck my repeater, and this seemed to astound hergreatly. 

 * A _café_ to which a depot of ice, or rather of snow, is attached. There is hardly a village in Spain without its _neveria_. 

"What clever inventions you foreigners do have! What country do youbelong to, sir? You're an Englishman, no doubt!"*

 * Every traveller in Spain who does not carry about samples of calicoes and silks is taken for an Englishman (_inglesito_). It is the same thing in the East. 

"I'm a Frenchman, and your devoted servant. And you, senora, orsenorita, you probably belong to Cordova?"

"No. "

"At all events, you are an Andalusian? Your soft way of speaking makesme think so. "

"If you notice people's accent so closely, you must be able to guesswhat I am. "

"I think you are from the country of Jesus, two paces out of Paradise. "

I had learned the metaphor, which stands for Andalusia, from my friendFrancisco Sevilla, a well-known _picador_. 

"Pshaw! The people here say there is no place in Paradise for us!"

"Then perhaps you are of Moorish blood--or----" I stopped, not venturingto add "a Jewess. "

"Oh come! You must see I'm a gipsy! Wouldn't you like me to tell you _labaji_?* Did you never hear tell of Carmencita? That's who I am!"

* Your fortune. 

I was such a miscreant in those days--now fifteen years ago--that theclose proximity of a sorceress did not make me recoil in horror. "So beit!" I thought. "Last week I ate my supper with a highway robber. To-dayI'll go and eat ices with a servant of the devil. A traveller should seeeverything. " I had yet another motive for prosecuting her acquaintance. When I left college--I acknowledge it with shame--I had wasted a certainamount of time in studying occult science, and had even attempted, morethan once, to exorcise the powers of darkness. Though I had been cured, long since, of my passion for such investigations, I still felt acertain attraction and curiosity with regard to all superstitions, and Iwas delighted to have this opportunity of discovering how far the magicart had developed among the gipsies. 

Talking as we went, we had reached the _neveria_, and seated ourselvesat a little table, lighted by a taper protected by a glass globe. I thenhad time to take a leisurely view of my _gitana_, while severalworthy individuals, who were eating their ices, stared open-mouthed atbeholding me in such gay company. 

I very much doubt whether Senorita Carmen was a pure-blooded gipsy. Atall events, she was infinitely prettier than any other woman of her raceI have ever seen. For a women to be beautiful, they say in Spain, shemust fulfil thirty _ifs_, or, if it please you better, you must be ableto define her appearance by ten adjectives, applicable to three portionsof her person. 

For instance, three things about her must be black, her eyes, hereyelashes, and her eyebrows. Three must be dainty, her fingers, herlips, her hair, and so forth. For the rest of this inventory, seeBrantome. My gipsy girl could lay no claim to so many perfections. Herskin, though perfectly smooth, was almost of a copper hue. Her eyeswere set obliquely in her head, but they were magnificent and large. Herlips, a little full, but beautifully shaped, revealed a set of teeth aswhite as newly skinned almonds. Her hair--a trifle coarse, perhaps--wasblack, with blue lights on it like a raven's wing, long and glossy. Notto weary my readers with too prolix a description, I will merely add, that to every blemish she united some advantage, which was perhaps allthe more evident by contrast. There was something strange and wild abouther beauty. Her face astonished you, at first sight, but nobody couldforget it. Her eyes, especially, had an expression of mingled sensualityand fierceness which I had never seen in any other human glance. "Gipsy's eye, wolf's eye!" is a Spanish saying which denotes closeobservation. If my readers have no time to go to the "Jardin desPlantes" to study the wolf's expression, they will do well to watch theordinary cat when it is lying in wait for a sparrow. 

It will be understood that I should have looked ridiculous if I hadproposed to have my fortune told in a _café_. I therefore begged thepretty witch's leave to go home with her. She made no difficultiesabout consenting, but she wanted to know what o'clock it was again, andrequested me to make my repeater strike once more. 

"Is it really gold?" she said, gazing at it with rapt attention. 

When we started off again, it was quite dark. Most of the shops wereshut, and the streets were almost empty. We crossed the bridge over theGuadalquivir, and at the far end of the suburb we stopped in front ofa house of anything but palatial appearance. The door was opened by achild, to whom the gipsy spoke a few words in a language unknown to me, which I afterward understood to be _Romany_, or _chipe calli_--the gipsyidiom. The child instantly disappeared, leaving us in sole possession ofa tolerably spacious room, furnished with a small table, two stools, anda chest. I must not forget to mention a jar of water, a pile of oranges, and a bunch of onions. 

As soon as we were left alone, the gipsy produced, out of her chest, a pack of cards, bearing signs of constant usage, a magnet, a driedchameleon, and a few other indispensable adjuncts of her art. Then shebade me cross my left hand with a silver coin, and the magic ceremoniesduly began. It is unnecessary to chronicle her predictions, and as forthe style of her performance, it proved her to be no mean sorceress. 

Unluckily we were soon disturbed. The door was suddenly burst open, and a man, shrouded to the eyes in a brown cloak, entered the room, apostrophizing the gipsy in anything but gentle terms. What he said Icould not catch, but the tone of his voice revealed the fact that he wasin a very evil temper. The gipsy betrayed neither surprise nor angerat his advent, but she ran to meet him, and with a most strikingvolubility, she poured out several sentences in the mysterious languageshe had already used in my presence. The word _payllo_, frequentlyreiterated, was the only one I understood. I knew that the gipsies useit to describe all men not of their own race. Concluding myself to bethe subject of this discourse, I was prepared for a somewhat delicateexplanation. I had already laid my hand on the leg of one of the stools, and was studying within myself to discover the exact moment at which Ihad better throw it at his head, when, roughly pushing the gipsy to oneside, the man advanced toward me. Then with a step backward he cried:

"What, sir! Is it you?"

I looked at him in my turn and recognised my friend Don Jose. At thatmoment I did feel rather sorry I had saved him from the gallows. 

"What, is it you, my good fellow?" I exclaimed, with as easy a smile asI could muster. "You have interrupted this young lady just when she wasforetelling me most interesting things!"

"The same as ever. There shall be an end to it!" he hissed between histeeth, with a savage glance at her. 

Meanwhile the _gitana_ was still talking to him in her own tongue. Shebecame more and more excited. Her eyes grew fierce and bloodshot, her features contracted, she stamped her foot. She seemed to me to beearnestly pressing him to do something he was unwilling to do. What thiswas I fancied I understood only too well, by the fashion in which shekept drawing her little hand backward and forward under her chin. I wasinclined to think she wanted to have somebody's throat cut, and I had afair suspicion the throat in question was my own. To all her torrent ofeloquence Don Jose's only reply was two or three shortly spoken words. At this the gipsy cast a glance of the most utter scorn at him, then, seating herself Turkish-fashion in a corner of the room, she picked outan orange, tore off the skin, and began to eat it. 

Don Jose took hold of my arm, opened the door, and led me into thestreet. We walked some two hundred paces in the deepest silence. Then hestretched out his hand. 

"Go straight on, " he said, "and you'll come to the bridge. "

That instant he turned his back on me and departed at a great pace. Itook my way back to my inn, rather crestfallen, and considerably outof temper. The worst of all was that, when I undressed, I discovered mywatch was missing. 

Various considerations prevented me from going to claim it next day, orrequesting the _Corregidor_ to be good enough to have a search madefor it. I finished my work on the Dominican manuscript, and went onto Seville. After several months spent wandering hither and thither inAndalusia, I wanted to get back to Madrid, and with that object I had topass through Cordova. I had no intention of making any stay there, forI had taken a dislike to that fair city, and to the ladies who bathedin the Guadalquivir. Nevertheless, I had some visits to pay, and certainerrands to do, which must detain me several days in the old capital ofthe Mussulman princes. 

The moment I made my appearance in the Dominican convent, one of themonks, who had always shown the most lively interest in my inquiriesas to the site of the battlefield of Munda, welcomed me with open arms, exclaiming:

"Praised be God! You are welcome! My dear friend. We all thought youwere dead, and I myself have said many a _pater_ and _ave_ (not that Iregret them!) for your soul. Then you weren't murdered, after all? Thatyou were robbed, we know!"

"What do you mean?" I asked, rather astonished. 

"Oh, you know! That splendid repeater you used to strike in the librarywhenever we said it was time for us to go into church. Well, it has beenfound, and you'll get it back. "

"Why, " I broke in, rather put out of countenance, "I lost it--"

"The rascal's under lock and key, and as he was known to be a man whowould shoot any Christian for the sake of a _peseta_, we weremost dreadfully afraid he had killed you. I'll go with you to the_Corregidor_, and he'll give you back your fine watch. And after that, you won't dare to say the law doesn't do its work properly in Spain. "

"I assure you, " said I, "I'd far rather lose my watch than have togive evidence in court to hang a poor unlucky devil, and especiallybecause--because----"

"Oh, you needn't be alarmed! He's thoroughly done for; they might hanghim twice over. But when I say hang, I say wrong. Your thief is an_Hidalgo_. So he's to be garrotted the day after to-morrow, withoutfail. * So you see one theft more or less won't affect his position. Would to God he had done nothing but steal! But he has committed severalmurders, one more hideous than the other. "

 * In 1830, the noble class still enjoyed this privilege. Nowadays, under the constitutional _regime_, commoners have attained the same dignity. 

"What's his name?"

"In this country he is only known as Jose Navarro, but he has anotherBasque name, which neither your nor I will ever be able to pronounce. By the way, the man is worth seeing, and you, who like to study thepeculiar features of each country, shouldn't lose this chance of notinghow a rascal bids farewell to this world in Spain. He is in jail, andFather Martinez will take you to him. "

So bent was my Dominican friend on my seeing the preparations for this"neat little hanging job" that I was fain to agree. I went to see theprisoner, having provided myself with a bundle of cigars, which I hopedmight induce him to forgive my intrusion. 

I was ushered into Don Jose's presence just as he was sitting at table. He greeted me with a rather distant nod, and thanked me civilly for thepresent I had brought him. Having counted the cigars in the bundle Ihad placed in his hand, he took out a certain number and returned me therest, remarking that he would not need any more of them. 

I inquired whether by laying out a little money, or by applying tomy friends, I might not be able to do something to soften his lot. Heshrugged his shoulders, to begin with, smiling sadly. Soon, as by anafter-thought, he asked me to have a mass said for the repose of hissoul. 

Then he added nervously: "Would you--would you have another said for aperson who did you a wrong?"

"Assuredly I will, my dear fellow, " I answered. "But no one in thiscountry has wronged me so far as I know. "

He took my hand and squeezed it, looking very grave. After a moment'ssilence, he spoke again. 

"Might I dare to ask another service of you? When you go back to yourown country perhaps you will pass through Navarre. At all events you'llgo by Vittoria, which isn't very far off. "

"Yes, " said I, "I shall certainly pass through Vittoria. But I may verypossibly go round by Pampeluna, and for your sake, I believe I should bevery glad to do it. "

"Well, if you do go to Pampeluna, you'll see more than one thing thatwill interest you. It's a fine town. I'll give you this medal, " heshowed me a little silver medal that he wore hung around his neck. "You'll wrap it up in paper"--he paused a moment to master hisemotion--"and you'll take it, or send it, to an old lady whose addressI'll give you. Tell her I am dead--but don't tell her how I died. "

I promised to perform his commission. I saw him the next day, and spentpart of it in his company. From his lips I learned the sad incidentsthat follow. 

CHAPTER III

"I was born, " he said, "at Elizondo, in the valley of Baztan. My name isDon Jose Lizzarrabengoa, and you know enough of Spain, sir, to know atonce, by my name, that I come of an old Christian and Basque stock. Icall myself Don, because I have a right to it, and if I were at ElizondoI could show you my parchment genealogy. My family wanted me to go intothe church, and made me study for it, but I did not like work. I was toofond of playing tennis, and that was my ruin. When we Navarrese beginto play tennis, we forget everything else. One day, when I had won thegame, a young fellow from Alava picked a quarrel with me. We took to our_maquilas_, * and I won again. But I had to leave the neighbourhood. I fell in with some dragoons, and enlisted in the Almanza CavalryRegiment. Mountain folks like us soon learn to be soldiers. Before longI was a corporal, and I had been told I should soon be made a sergeant, when, to my misfortune, I was put on guard at the Seville TobaccoFactory. If you have been to Seville you have seen the great building, just outside the ramparts, close to the Guadalquivir; I can fancy I seethe entrance, and the guard room just beside it, even now. When Spanishsoldiers are on duty, they either play cards or go to sleep. I, like anhonest Navarrese, always tried to keep myself busy. I was making a chainto hold my priming-pin, out of a bit of wire: all at once, my comradessaid, 'there's the bell ringing, the girls are coming back to work. ' Youmust know, sir, that there are quite four or five hundred women employedin the factory. They roll the cigars in a great room into which no mancan go without a permit from the _Veintiquatro_, ** because when theweather is hot they make themselves at home, especially the young ones. When the work-girls come back after their dinner, numbers of young mengo down to see them pass by, and talk all sorts of nonsense to them. Very few of those young ladies will refuse a silk mantilla, and men whocare for that sort of sport have nothing to do but bend down and picktheir fish up. While the others watched the girls go by, I stayed on mybench near the door. I was a young fellow then--my heart was still inmy own country, and I didn't believe in any pretty girls who hadn'tblue skirts and long plaits of hair falling on their shoulders. *** Andbesides, I was rather afraid of the Andalusian women. I had not got usedto their ways yet; they were always jeering one--never spoke a singleword of sense. So I was sitting with my nose down upon my chain, when Iheard some bystanders say, 'Here comes the _gitanella_!' Then I liftedup my eyes, and I saw her! It was that very Carmen you know, and inwhose rooms I met you a few months ago. 

 * Iron-shod sticks used by the Basques. 

 ** Magistrate in charge of the municipal police arrangements, and local government regulations. 

 *** The costume usually worn by peasant women in Navarre and the Basque Provinces. 

"She was wearing a very short skirt, below which her white silkstockings--with more than one hole in them--and her dainty red moroccoshoes, fastened with flame-coloured ribbons, were clearly seen. She hadthrown her mantilla back, to show her shoulders, and a great bunch ofacacia that was thrust into her chemise. She had another acacia blossomin the corner of her mouth, and she walked along, swaying her hips, likea filly from the Cordova stud farm. In my country anybody who had seena woman dressed in that fashion would have crossed himself. At Sevilleevery man paid her some bold compliment on her appearance. She hadan answer for each and all, with her hand on her hip, as bold as thethorough gipsy she was. At first I didn't like her looks, and I fell tomy work again. But she, like all women and cats, who won't come if youcall them, and do come if you don't call them, stopped short in front ofme, and spoke to me. 

"'_Compadre_, ' said she, in the Andalusian fashion, 'won't you give meyour chain for the keys of my strong box?'

"'It's for my priming-pin, ' said I. 

"'Your priming-pin!' she cried, with a laugh. 'Oho! I suppose thegentleman makes lace, as he wants pins!'

"Everybody began to laugh, and I felt myself getting red in the face, and couldn't hit on anything in answer. 

"'Come, my love!' she began again, 'make me seven ells of lace for mymantilla, my pet pin-maker!'

"And taking the acacia blossom out of her mouth she flipped it at mewith her thumb so that it hit me just between the eyes. I tell you, sir, I felt as if a bullet had struck me. I didn't know which way to look. I sat stock-still, like a wooden board. When she had gone into thefactory, I saw the acacia blossom, which had fallen on the groundbetween my feet. I don't know what made me do it, but I picked it up, unseen by any of my comrades, and put it carefully inside my jacket. That was my first folly. 

"Two or three hours later I was still thinking about her, when apanting, terrified-looking porter rushed into the guard-room. He toldus a woman had been stabbed in the great cigar-room, and that the guardmust be sent in at once. The sergeant told me to take two men, and goand see to it. I took my two men and went upstairs. Imagine, sir, thatwhen I got into the room, I found, to begin with, some three hundredwomen, stripped to their shifts, or very near it, all of them screamingand yelling and gesticulating, and making such a row that you couldn'thave heard God's own thunder. On one side of the room one of the womenwas lying on the broad of her back, streaming with blood, with an Xnewly cut on her face by two strokes of a knife. Opposite the woundedwoman, whom the best-natured of the band were attending, I saw Carmen, held by five or six of her comrades. The wounded woman was crying out, 'A confessor, a confessor! I'm killed!' Carmen said nothing at all. Sheclinched her teeth and rolled her eyes like a chameleon. 'What's this?'I asked. I had hard work to find out what had happened, for all thework-girls talked at once. It appeared that the injured girl had boastedshe had money enough in her pocket to buy a donkey at the Triana Market. 'Why, ' said Carmen, who had a tongue of her own, 'can't you do with abroom?' Stung by this taunt, it may be because she felt herself ratherunsound in that particular, the other girl replied that she knew nothingabout brooms, seeing she had not the honour of being either a gipsyor one of the devil's godchildren, but that the Senorita Carmen wouldshortly make acquaintance with her donkey, when the _Corregidor_ tookher out riding with two lackeys behind her to keep the flies off. 'Well, ' retorted Carmen, 'I'll make troughs for the flies to drinkout of on your cheeks, and I'll paint a draught-board on them!'* Andthereupon, slap, bank! She began making St. Andrew's crosses on thegirl's face with a knife she had been using for cutting off the ends ofthe cigars. 

 * _Pintar un javeque_, "paint a xebec, " a particular type of ship. Most Spanish vessels of this description have a checkered red and white stripe painted around them. 

"The case was quite clear. I took hold of Carmen's arm. 'Sister mine, ' Isaid civilly, 'you must come with me. ' She shot a glance of recognitionat me, but she said, with a resigned look: 'Let's be off. Where is mymantilla?' She put it over her head so that only one of her great eyeswas to be seen, and followed my two men, as quiet as a lamb. When wegot to the guardroom the sergeant said it was a serious job, and he mustsend her to prison. I was told off again to take her there. I put herbetween two dragoons, as a corporal does on such occasions. We startedoff for the town. The gipsy had begun by holding her tongue. But when wegot to the _Calle de la Serpiente_--you know it, and that it earns itsname by its many windings--she began by dropping her mantilla on to hershoulders, so as to show me her coaxing little face, and turning roundto me as well as she could, she said:

"'_Oficial mio_, where are you taking me to?'

"'To prison, my poor child, ' I replied, as gently as I could, just asany kind-hearted soldier is bound to speak to a prisoner, and especiallyto a woman. 

"'Alack! What will become of me! Senor Oficial, have pity on me! You areso young, so good-looking. ' Then, in a lower tone, she said, 'Let me getaway, and I'll give you a bit of the _bar lachi_, that will make everywoman fall in love with you!'

"The _bar lachi_, sir, is the loadstone, with which the gipsies declareone who knows how to use it can cast any number of spells. If you canmake a woman drink a little scrap of it, powdered, in a glass of whitewine, she'll never be able to resist you. I answered, as gravely as Icould:

"'We are not here to talk nonsense. You'll have to go to prison. Thoseare my orders, and there's no help for it!'

"We men from the Basque country have an accent which all Spaniardseasily recognise; on the other hand, not one of them can ever learn tosay _Bai, jaona_!*

 * Yes, sir. 

"So Carmen easily guessed I was from the Provinces. You know, sir, thatthe gipsies, who belong to no particular country, and are always movingabout, speak every language, and most of them are quite at home inPortugal, in France, in our Provinces, in Catalonia, or anywhere else. They can even make themselves understood by Moors and English people. Carmen knew Basque tolerably well. 

"'_Laguna ene bihotsarena_, comrade of my heart, ' said she suddenly. 'Doyou belong to our country?'

"Our language is so beautiful, sir, that when we hear it in a foreigncountry it makes us quiver. I wish, " added the bandit in a lower tone, "I could have a confessor from my own country. "

After a silence, he began again. 

"'I belong to Elizondo, ' I answered in Basque, very much affected by thesound of my own language. 

"'I come from Etchalar, ' said she (that's a district about four hours'journey from my home). 'I was carried off to Seville by the gipsies. I was working in the factory to earn enough money to take me back toNavarre, to my poor old mother, who has no support in the world but me, besides her little _barratcea_* with twenty cider-apple trees in it. Ah! if I were only back in my own country, looking up at the whitemountains! I have been insulted here, because I don't belong to thisland of rogues and sellers of rotten oranges; and those hussies areall banded together against me, because I told them that not all theirSeville _jacques_, ** and all their knives, would frighten an honest ladfrom our country, with his blue cap and his _maquila_! Good comrade, won't you do anything to help your own countrywoman?'

 * Field, garden. 

 ** Bravos, boasters. 

"She was lying then, sir, as she has always lied. I don't know that thatgirl ever spoke a word of truth in her life, but when she did speak, Ibelieved her--I couldn't help myself. She mangled her Basque words, andI believed she came from Navarre. But her eyes and her mouth and herskin were enough to prove she was a gipsy. I was mad, I paid no moreattention to anything, I thought to myself that if the Spaniards haddared to speak evil of my country, I would have slashed their faces justas she had slashed her comrade's. In short, I was like a drunken man, Iwas beginning to say foolish things, and I was very near doing them. 

"'If I were to give you a push and you tumbled down, goodfellow-countryman, ' she began again in Basque, 'those two Castilianrecruits wouldn't be able to keep me back. '

"Faith, I forgot my orders, I forgot everything, and I said to her, 'Well, then, my friend, girl of my country, try it, and may our Lady ofthe Mountain help you through. '

"Just at that moment we were passing one of the many narrow lanes onesees in Seville. All at once Carmen turned and struck me in the chestwith her fist. I tumbled backward, purposely. With a bound she sprangover me, and ran off, showing us a pair of legs! People talk about apair of Basque legs! but hers were far better--as fleet as they werewell-turned. As for me, I picked myself up at once, but I stuck out mylance* crossways and barred the street, so that my comrades were checkedat the very first moment of pursuit. Then I started to run myself, andthey after me--but how were we to catch her? There was no fear of that, what with our spurs, our swords, and our lances. 

 * All Spanish cavalry soldiers carry lances. 

"In less time than I have taken to tell you the story the prisonerhad disappeared. And besides, every gossip in the quarter covered herflight, poked scorn at us, and pointed us in the wrong direction. Aftera good deal of marching and countermarching, we had to go back to theguard-room without a receipt from the governor of the jail. 

"To avoid punishment, my men made known that Carmen had spoken to me inBasque; and to tell the truth, it did not seem very natural that a blowfrom such a little creature should have so easily overthrown a strongfellow like me. The whole thing looked suspicious, or, at all events, not over-clear. When I came off guard I lost my corporal's stripes, andwas condemned to a month's imprisonment. It was the first time I hadbeen punished since I had been in the service. Farewell, now, to thesergeant's stripes, on which I had reckoned so surely!

"The first days in prison were very dreary. When I enlisted I hadfancied I was sure to become an officer, at all events. Two ofmy compatriots, Longa and Mina, are captains-general, after all. Chapalangarra was a colonel, and I have played tennis a score of timeswith his brother, who was just a needy fellow like myself. 'Now, ' I keptcrying to myself, 'all the time you served without being punishedhas been lost. Now you have a bad mark against your name, and to getyourself back into the officers' good graces you'll have to work tentimes as hard as when you joined as a recruit. ' And why have I gotmyself punished? For the sake of a gipsy hussy, who made game of me, andwho at this moment is busy thieving in some corner of the town. Yet Icouldn't help thinking about her. Will you believe it, sir, those silkstockings of hers with the holes in them, of which she had given me sucha full view as she took to her heels, were always before my eyes? Iused to look through the barred windows of the jail into the street, and among all the women who passed I never could see one to compare withthat minx of a girl--and then, in spite of myself, I used to smell theacacia blossom she had thrown at me, and which, dry as it was, stillkept its sweet scent. If there are such things as witches, that girlcertainly was one. 

"One day the jailer came in, and gave me an Alcala roll. *

 * _Alcala de los Panaderos_, a village two leagues from Seville, where the most delicious rolls are made. They are said to owe their quality to the water of the place, and great quantities of them are brought to Seville every day. 

"'Look here, ' said he, 'this is what your cousin has sent you. '

"I took the loaf, very much astonished, for I had no cousin in Seville. It may be a mistake, thought I, as I looked at the roll, but it was soappetizing and smelt so good, that I made up my mind to eat it, withouttroubling my head as to whence it came, or for whom it was reallyintended. 

"When I tried to cut it, my knife struck on something hard. I looked, and found a little English file, which had been slipped into the doughbefore the roll had been baked. The roll also contained a gold piece oftwo piastres. Then I had no further doubt--it was a present from Carmen. To people of her blood, liberty is everything, and they would set atown on fire to save themselves one day in prison. The girl was artful, indeed, and armed with that roll, I might have snapped my fingers at thejailers. In one hour, with that little file, I could have sawn throughthe thickest bar, and with the gold coin I could have exchanged mysoldier's cloak for civilian garb at the nearest shop. You may fancythat a man who has often taken the eaglets out of their nests in ourcliff would have found no difficulty in getting down to the streetout of a window less than thirty feet above it. But I didn't choose toescape. I still had a soldier's code of honour, and desertion appearedto me in the light of a heinous crime. Yet this proof of remembrancetouched me. When a man is in prison he likes to think he has a friendoutside who takes an interest in him. The gold coin did rather offendme; I should have very much liked to return it; but where was I to findmy creditor? That did not seem a very easy task. 

"After the ceremony of my degradation I had fancied my sufferings wereover, but I had another humiliation before me. That came when I leftprison, and was told off for duty, and put on sentry, as a privatesoldier. You can not conceive what a proud man endures at such a moment. I believe I would have just as soon been shot dead--then I should havemarched alone at the head of my platoon, at all events; I should havefelt I was somebody, with the eyes of others fixed upon me. 

"I was posted as sentry on the door of the colonel's house. The colonelwas a young man, rich, good-natured, fond of amusing himself. Allthe young officers were there, and many civilians as well, besidesladies--actresses, as it was said. For my part, it seemed to me as ifthe whole town had agreed to meet at that door, in order to stare at me. Then up drove the colonel's carriage, with his valet on the box. And whoshould I see get out of it, but the gipsy girl! She was dressed up, thistime, to the eyes, togged out in golden ribbons--a spangled gown, blueshoes, all spangled too, flowers and gold lace all over her. In her handshe carried a tambourine. With her there were two other gipsy women, oneyoung and one old. They always have one old woman who goes with them, and then an old man with a guitar, a gipsy too, to play alone, and alsofor their dances. You must know these gipsy girls are often sent for toprivate houses, to dance their special dance, the _Romalis_, and often, too, for quite other purposes. 

"Carmen recognised me, and we exchanged glances. I don't know why, butat that moment I should have liked to have been a hundred feet beneaththe ground. 

"'_Agur laguna_, '* said she. 'Oficial mio! You keep guard like arecruit, ' and before I could find a word in answer, she was inside thehouse. 

 * Good-day, comrade!

"The whole party was assembled in the _patio_, and in spite of the crowdI could see nearly everything that went on through the lattice. * Icould hear the castanets and the tambourine, the laughter and applause. Sometimes I caught a glimpse of her head as she bounded upward with hertambourine. Then I could hear the officers saying many things to herwhich brought the blood to my face. As to her answers, I knew nothingof them. It was on that day, I think, that I began to love her inearnest--for three or four times I was tempted to rush into the _patio_, and drive my sword into the bodies of all the coxcombs who were makinglove to her. My torture lasted a full hour; then the gipsies came out, and the carriage took them away. As she passed me by, Carmen looked atme with those eyes you know, and said to me very low, 'Comrade, peoplewho are fond of good _fritata_ come to eat it at Lillas Pastia's atTriana!'

 * In most of the houses in Seville there is an inner court surrounded by an arched portico. This is used as a sitting- room in summer. Over the court is stretched a piece of tent cloth, which is watered during the day and removed at night. The street door is almost always left open, and the passage leading to the court (_zaguan_) is closed by an iron lattice of very elegant workmanship. 

"Then, light as a kid, she stepped into the carriage, the coachmanwhipped up his mules, and the whole merry party departed, whither I knownot. 

"You may fancy that the moment I was off guard I went to Triana; butfirst of all I got myself shaved and brushed myself up as if I had beengoing on parade. She was living with Lillas Pastia, an old fried-fishseller, a gipsy, as black as a Moor, to whose house a great manycivilians resorted to eat _fritata_, especially, I think, because Carmenhad taken up her quarters there. 

"'Lillas, ' she said, as soon as she saw me. 'I'm not going to work anymore to-day. To-morrow will be a day, too. * Come, fellow-countryman, letus go for a walk!'

 * _Manana sera otro dia. _--A Spanish proverb. 

"She pulled her mantilla across her nose, and there we were in thestreet, without my knowing in the least whither I was bound. 

"'Senorita, ' said I, 'I think I have to thank you for a present Ihad while I was in prison. I've eaten the bread; the file will do forsharpening my lance, and I keep it in remembrance of you. But as for themoney, here it is. '

"'Why, he's kept the money!' she exclaimed, bursting out laughing. 'But, after all, that's all the better--for I'm decidedly hard up! Whatmatter! The dog that runs never starves!* Come, let's spend it all! Youshall treat. '

 * _Chuquel sos pirela, cocal terela_. "The dog that runs finds a bone. "--Gipsy proverb. 

"We had turned back toward Seville. At the entrance of the _Calle dela Serpiente_ she bought a dozen oranges, which she made me put into myhandkerchief. A little farther on she bought a roll, a sausage, anda bottle of manzanilla. Then, last of all, she turned into aconfectioner's shop. There she threw the gold coin I had returned toher on the counter, with another she had in her pocket, and some smallsilver, and then she asked me for all the money I had. All I possessedwas one peseta and a few cuartos, which I handed over to her, very muchashamed of not having more. I thought she would have carried away thewhole shop. She took everything that was best and dearest, _yemas_, *_turon_, ** preserved fruits--as long as the money lasted. And all these, too, I had to carry in paper bags. Perhaps you know the _Calle delCandilejo_, where there is a head of Don Pedro the Avenger. *** That headought to have given me pause. We stopped at an old house in that street. She passed into the entry, and knocked at a door on the ground floor. It was opened by a gipsy, a thorough-paced servant of the devil. Carmensaid a few words to her in Romany. At first the old hag grumbled. Tosmooth her down Carmen gave her a couple of oranges and a handful ofsugar-plums, and let her have a taste of wine. Then she hung her cloakon her back, and led her to the door, which she fastened with a woodenbar. As soon as we were alone she began to laugh and caper like alunatic, singing out, 'You are my _rom_, I'm your _romi_. '****

 * Sugared yolks of eggs. 

 ** A sort of nougat. 

 *** This king, Don Pedro, whom we call "the Cruel, " and whom Queen Isabella, the Catholic, never called anything but "the Avenger, " was fond of walking about the streets of Seville at night in search of adventures, like the Caliph Haroun al Raschid. One night, in a lonely street, he quarrelled with a man who was singing a serenade. There was a fight, and the king killed the amorous _caballero_. At the clashing of their swords, an old woman put her head out of the window and lighted up the scene with a tiny lamp (candilejo) which she held in her hand. My readers must be informed that King Don Pedro, though nimble and muscular, suffered from one strange fault in his physical conformation. Whenever he walked his knees cracked loudly. By this cracking the old woman easily recognised him. The next day the _veintiquatro_ in charge came to make his report to the king. "Sir, a duel was fought last night in such a street--one of the combatants is dead. " "Have you found the murderer?" "Yes, sir. " "Why has he not been punished already?" "Sir, I await your orders!" "Carry out the law. " Now the king had just published a decree that every duellist was to have his head cut off, and that head was to be set up on the scene of the fight. The _veintiquatro_ got out of the difficulty like a clever man. He had the head sawed off a statue of the king, and set that up in a niche in the middle of the street in which the murder had taken place. The king and all the Sevillians thought this a very good joke. The street took its name from the lamp held by the old woman, the only witness of the incident. The above is the popular tradition. Zuniga tells the story somewhat differently. However that may be, a street called _Calle del Candilejo_ still exists in Seville, and in that street there is a bust which is said to be a portrait of Don Pedro. This bust, unfortunately, is a modern production. During the seventeenth century the old one had become very much defaced, and the municipality had it replaced by that now to be seen. 

 **** _Rom_, husband. _Romi_, wife. 

"There I stood in the middle of the room, laden with all her purchases, and not knowing where I was to put them down. She tumbled them all ontothe floor, and threw her arms round my neck, saying:

"'I pay my debts, I pay my debts! That's the law of the _Cales_. '*

 * _Calo_, feminine _calli_, plural _cales_. Literally "black, " the name the gipsies apply to themselves in their own language. 

"Ah, sir, that day! that day! When I think of it I forget what to-morrowmust bring me!"

For a moment the bandit held his peace, then, when he had relighted hiscigar, he began afresh. 

"We spent the whole day together, eating, drinking, and so forth. Whenshe had stuffed herself with sugar-plums, like any child of six yearsold, she thrust them by handfuls into the old woman's water-jar. 'That'll make sherbet for her, ' she said. She smashed the _yemas_ bythrowing them against the walls. 'They'll keep the flies from botheringus. ' There was no prank or wild frolic she didn't indulge in. I told herI should have liked to see her dance, only there were no castanets tobe had. Instantly she seized the old woman's only earthenware plate, smashed it up, and there she was dancing the _Romalis_, and making thebits of broken crockery rattle as well as if they had been ebony andivory castanets. That girl was good company, I can tell you! Eveningfell, and I heard the drums beating tattoo. 

"'I must get back to quarters for roll-call, ' I said. 

"'To quarters!' she answered, with a look of scorn. 'Are you a negroslave, to let yourself be driven with a ramrod like that! You are assilly as a canary bird. Your dress suits your nature. * Pshaw! you've nomore heart than a chicken. '

* Spanish dragoons wear a yellow uniform. 

"I stayed on, making up my mind to the inevitable guard-room. The nextmorning the first suggestion of parting came from her. 

"'Hark ye, Joseito, ' she said. 'Have I paid you? By our law, I owed younothing, because you're a _payllo_. But you're a good-looking fellow, and I took a fancy to you. Now we're quits. Good-day!'

"I asked her when I should see her again. 

"'When you're less of a simpleton, ' she retorted, with a laugh. Then, ina more serious tone, 'Do you know, my son, I really believe I love you alittle; but that can't last! The dog and the wolf can't agree for long. Perhaps if you turned gipsy, I might care to be your _romi_. But that'sall nonsense, such things aren't possible. Pshaw! my boy. Believe me, you're well out of it. You've come across the devil--he isn't alwaysblack--and you've not had your neck wrung. I wear a woollen suit, butI'm no sheep. * Go and burn a candle to your _majari_, ** she deservesit well. Come, good-by once more. Don't think any more about _LaCarmencita_, or she'll end by making you marry a widow with woodenlegs. '***

 * _Me dicas vriarda de jorpoy, bus ne sino braco_. --A gipsy proverb. 

 ** The Saint, the Holy Virgin. 

 *** The gallows, which is the widow of the last man hanged upon it. 

"As she spoke, she drew back the bar that closed the door, and once wewere out in the street she wrapped her mantilla about her, and turned onher heel. 

"She spoke the truth. I should have done far better never to think ofher again. But after that day in the _Calle del Candilejo_ I couldn'tthink of anything else. All day long I used to walk about, hoping Imight meet her. I sought news of her from the old hag, and from thefried-fish seller. They both told me she had gone away to _Laloro_, which is their name for Portugal. They probably said it by Carmen'sorders, but I soon found out they were lying. Some weeks after my dayin the _Calle del Candilejo_ I was on duty at one of the town gates. Alittle way from the gate there was a breach in the wall. The masons wereworking at it in the daytime, and at night a sentinel was posted on it, to prevent smugglers from getting in. All through one day I saw LillasPastia going backward and forward near the guard-room, and talking tosome of my comrades. They all knew him well, and his fried-fish andfritters even better. He came up to me, and asked if I had any news ofCarmen. 

"'No, ' said I. 

"'Well, ' said he, 'you'll soon hear of her, old fellow. '

"He was not mistaken. That night I was posted to guard the breach inthe wall. As soon as the sergeant had disappeared I saw a woman comingtoward me. My heart told me it was Carmen. Still I shouted:

"'Keep off! Nobody can pass here!'

"'Now, don't be spiteful, ' she said, making herself known to me. 

"'What! you here, Carmen?'

"'Yes, _mi payllo_. Let us say few words, but wise ones. Would youlike to earn a douro? Some people will be coming with bundles. Let themalone. '

"'No, ' said I, 'I must not allow them through. These are my orders. '

"'Orders! orders! You didn't think about orders in the _Calle delCandilejo_!'

"'Ah!' I cried, quite maddened by the very thought of that night. 'Itwas well worth while to forget my orders for that! But I won't have anysmuggler's money!'

"'Well, if you won't have money, shall we go and dine together at oldDorotea's?'

"'No, ' said I, half choked by the effort it cost me. 'No, I can't. '

"'Very good! If you make so many difficulties, I know to whom I cango. I'll ask your officer if he'll come with me to Dorotea's. He looksgood-natured, and he'll post a sentry who'll only see what he had bettersee. Good-bye, canary-bird! I shall have a good laugh the day the ordercomes out to hang you!'

"I was weak enough to call her back, and I promised to let the wholeof gipsydom pass in, if that were necessary, so that I secured theonly reward I longed for. She instantly swore she would keep her wordfaithfully the very next day, and ran off to summon her friends, whowere close by. There were five of them, of whom Pastia was one, all wellloaded with English goods. Carmen kept watch for them. She was to warnthem with her castanets the instant she caught sight of the patrol. Butthere was no necessity for that. The smugglers finished their job in amoment. 

"The next day I went to the _Calle del Candilejo_. Carmen kept mewaiting, and when she came, she was in rather a bad temper. 

"'I don't like people who have to be pressed, ' she said. 'You did me amuch greater service the first time, without knowing you'd gain anythingby it. Yesterday you bargained with me. I don't know why I've come, forI don't care for you any more. Here, be off with you. Here's a douro foryour trouble. '

"I very nearly threw the coin at her head, and I had to make a violenteffort to prevent myself from actually beating her. After we hadwrangled for an hour I went off in a fury. For some time I wanderedabout the town, walking hither and thither like a madman. At last I wentinto a church, and getting into the darkest corner I could find, I criedhot tears. All at once I heard a voice. 

"'A dragoon in tears. I'll make a philter of them!'

"I looked up. There was Carmen in front of me. 

"'Well, _mi payllo_, are you still angry with me?' she said. 'I mustcare for you in spite of myself, for since you left me I don't know whathas been the matter with me. Look you, it is I who ask you to come tothe _Calle del Candilejo_, now!'

"So we made it up: but Carmen's temper was like the weather in ourcountry. The storm is never so close, in our mountains, as when the sunis at its brightest. She had promised to meet me again at Dorotea's, butshe didn't come. 

"And Dorotea began telling me again that she had gone off to Portugalabout some gipsy business. 

"As experience had already taught me how much of that I was to believe, I went about looking for Carmen wherever I thought she might be, andtwenty times in every day I walked through the _Calle del Candilejo_. One evening I was with Dorotea, whom I had almost tamed by giving hera glass of anisette now and then, when Carmen walked in, followed by ayoung man, a lieutenant in our regiment. 

"'Get away at once, ' she said to me in Basque. I stood there, dumfounded, my heart full of rage. 

"'What are you doing here?' said the lieutenant to me. 'Take yourselfoff--get out of this. '

"I couldn't move a step. I felt paralyzed. The officer grew angry, andseeing I did not go out, and had not even taken off my forage cap, hecaught me by the collar and shook me roughly. I don't know what I saidto him. He drew his sword, and I unsheathed mine. The old woman caughthold of my arm, and the lieutenant gave me a wound on the forehead, ofwhich I still bear the scar. I made a step backward, and with one jerkof my elbow I threw old Dorotea down. Then, as the lieutenant stillpressed me, I turned the point of my sword against his body and heran upon it. Then Carmen put out the lamp and told Dorotea, in her ownlanguage, to take to flight. I fled into the street myself, and beganrunning along, I knew not whither. It seemed to me that some one wasfollowing me. When I came to myself I discovered that Carmen had neverleft me. 

"'Great stupid of a canary-bird!' she said, 'you never make anything butblunders. And, indeed, you know I told you I should bring you bad luck. But come, there's a cure for everything when you have a Fleming fromRome* for your love. Begin by rolling this handkerchief round your head, and throw me over that belt of yours. Wait for me in this alley--I'll beback in two minutes. 

 * _Flamenco de Roma_, a slang term for the gipsies. Roma does not stand for the Eternal City, but for the nation of the _romi_, or the married folk--a name applied by the gipsies to themselves. The first gipsies seen in Spain probably came from the Low Countries, hence their name of _Flemings_. 

"She disappeared, and soon came back bringing me a striped cloak whichshe had gone to fetch, I knew not whence. She made me take off myuniform, and put on the cloak over my shirt. Thus dressed, and with thewound on my head bound round with the handkerchief, I was tolerably likea Valencian peasant, many of whom come to Seville to sell a drink theymake out of '_chufas_. '* Then she took me to a house very much likeDorotea's, at the bottom of a little lane. Here she and another gipsywoman washed and dressed my wounds, better than any army surgeon couldhave done, gave me something, I know not what, to drink, and finallymade me lie down on a mattress, on which I went to sleep. 

 * A bulbous root, out of which rather a pleasant beverage is manufactured. 

"Probably the woman had mixed one of the soporific drugs of which theyknow the secret in my drink, for I did not wake up till very late thenext day. I was rather feverish, and had a violent headache. It was sometime before the memory of the terrible scene in which I had taken parton the previous night came back to me. After having dressed my wound, Carmen and her friend, squatting on their heels beside my mattress, exchanged a few words of '_chipe calli_, ' which appeared to me to besomething in the nature of a medical consultation. Then they both ofthem assured me that I should soon be cured, but that I must get outof Seville at the earliest possible moment, for that, if I was caughtthere, I should most undoubtedly be shot. 

"'My boy, ' said Carmen to me, 'you'll have to do something. Now thatthe king won't give you either rice or haddock* you'll have to think ofearning your livelihood. You're too stupid for stealing _a pastesas_. **But you are brave and active. If you have the pluck, take yourself offto the coast and turn smuggler. Haven't I promised to get you hanged?That's better than being shot, and besides, if you set about itproperly, you'll live like a prince as long as the _minons_*** and thecoast-guard don't lay their hands on your collar. '

 * The ordinary food of a Spanish soldier. 

 ** _Ustilar a pastesas_, to steal cleverly, to purloin without violence. 

 *** A sort of volunteer corps. 

"In this attractive guise did this fiend of a girl describe the newcareer she was suggesting to me, --the only one, indeed, remaining, nowI had incurred the penalty of death. Shall I confess it, sir? Shepersuaded me without much difficulty. This wild and dangerous life, itseemed to me, would bind her and me more closely together. In future, Ithought, I should be able to make sure of her love. 

"I had often heard talk of certain smugglers who travelled aboutAndalusia, each riding a good horse, with his mistress behind him andhis blunderbuss in his fist. Already I saw myself trotting up and downthe world, with a pretty gipsy behind me. When I mentioned that notionto her, she laughed till she had to hold her sides, and vowed there wasnothing in the world so delightful as a night spent camping in the openair, when each _rom_ retired with his _romi_ beneath their little tent, made of three hoops with a blanket thrown across them. 

"'If I take to the mountains, ' said I to her, 'I shall be sure of you. There'll be no lieutenant there to go shares with me. '

"'Ha! ha! you're jealous!' she retorted, 'so much the worse for you. Howcan you be such a fool as that? Don't you see I must love you, because Ihave never asked you for money?'

"When she said that sort to thing I could have strangled her. 

"To shorten the story, sir, Carmen procured me civilian clothes, disguised in which I got out of Seville without being recognised. I wentto Jerez, with a letter from Pastia to a dealer in anisette whose housewas the smugglers' meeting-place. I was introduced to them, and theirleader, surnamed _El Dancaire_, enrolled me in his gang. We started forGaucin, where I found Carmen, who had told me she would meet me there. In all these expeditions she acted as spy for our gang, and she was thebest that ever was seen. She had now just returned from Gibraltar, andhad already arranged with the captain of a ship for a cargo of Englishgoods which we were to receive on the coast. We went to meet it nearEstepona. We hid part in the mountains, and laden with the rest, weproceeded to Ronda. Carmen had gone there before us. It was she againwho warned us when we had better enter the town. This first journey, andseveral subsequent ones, turned out well. I found the smuggler's lifepleasanter than a soldier's: I could give presents to Carmen, I hadmoney, and I had a mistress. I felt little or no remorse, for, as thegipsies say, 'The happy man never longs to scratch his itch. ' We weremade welcome everywhere, my comrades treated me well, and even showed mea certain respect. The reason of this was that I had killed my man, and that some of them had no exploit of that description on theirconscience. But what I valued most in my new life was that I often sawCarmen. She showed me more affection than ever; nevertheless, she wouldnever admit, before my comrades, that she was my mistress, and she hadeven made me swear all sorts of oaths that I would not say anythingabout her to them. I was so weak in that creature's hands, that I obeyedall her whims. And besides, this was the first time she had revealedherself as possessing any of the reserve of a well-conducted woman, and I was simple enough to believe she had really cast off her formerhabits. 

"Our gang, which consisted of eight or ten men, was hardly ever togetherexcept at decisive moments, and we were usually scattered by twos andthrees about the towns and villages. Each one of us pretended to havesome trade. One was a tinker, another was a groom; I was supposed topeddle haberdashery, but I hardly ever showed myself in large places, onaccount of my unlucky business at Seville. One day, or rather one night, we were to meet below Veger. _El Dancaire_ and I got there before theothers. 

"'We shall soon have a new comrade, ' said he. 'Carmen has just managedone of her best tricks. She has contrived the escape of her _rom_, whowas in the _presidio_ at Tarifa. '

"I was already beginning to understand the gipsy language, which nearlyall my comrades spoke, and this word _rom_ startled me. 

"What! her husband? Is she married, then?' said I to the captain. 

"'Yes!' he replied, 'married to Garcia _el Tuerto_*--as cunning a gipsyas she is herself. The poor fellow has been at the galleys. Carmen haswheedled the surgeon of the _presidio_ to such good purpose that shehas managed to get her _rom_ out of prison. Faith! that girl's worthher weight in gold. For two years she has been trying to contrive hisescape, but she could do nothing until the authorities took it intotheir heads to change the surgeon. She soon managed to come to anunderstanding with this new one. '

 * One-eyed man. 

"You may imagine how pleasant this news was for me. I soon saw Garcia_el Tuerto_. He was the very ugliest brute that was ever nursedin gipsydom. His skin was black, his soul was blacker, and he wasaltogether the most thorough-paced ruffian I ever came across in mylife. Carmen arrived with him, and when she called him her _rom_ in mypresence, you should have seen the eyes she made at me, and the facesshe pulled whenever Garcia turned his head away. 

"I was disgusted, and never spoke a word to her all night. The nextmorning we had made up our packs, and had already started, when webecame aware that we had a dozen horsemen on our heels. The braggartAndalusians, who had been boasting they would murder every one who camenear them, cut a pitiful figure at once. There was a general rout. _ElDancaire_, Garcia, a good-looking fellow from Ecija, who was called _ElRemendado_, and Carmen herself, kept their wits about them. The restforsook the mules and took to the gorges, where the horses could notfollow them. There was no hope of saving the mules, so we hastilyunstrapped the best part of our booty, and taking it on our shoulders, we tried to escape through the rocks down the steepest of the slopes. Wethrew our packs down in front of us and followed them as best we could, slipping along on our heels. Meanwhile the enemy fired at us. It wasthe first time I had ever heard bullets whistling around me and Ididn't mind it very much. When there's a woman looking on, there's noparticular merit in snapping one's fingers at death. We all escapedexcept the poor _Remendado_, who received a bullet wound in the loins. Ithrew away my pack and tried to lift him up. 

"'Idiot!' shouted Garcia, 'what do we want with offal! Finish him off, and don't lose the cotton stockings!'

"'Drop him!' cried Carmen. 

"I was so exhausted that I was obliged to lay him down for a momentunder a rock. Garcia came up, and fired his blunderbuss full into hisface. 'He'd be a clever fellow who recognised him now!' said he, as helooked at the face, cut to pieces by a dozen slugs. 

"There, sir; that's the delightful sort of life I've led! That nightwe found ourselves in a thicket, worn out with fatigue, with nothing toeat, and ruined by the loss of our mules. What do you think that devilGarcia did? He pulled a pack of cards out of his pocket and beganplaying games with _El Dancaire_ by the light of a fire they kindled. Meanwhile I was lying down, staring at the stars, thinking of _ElRemendado_, and telling myself I would just as lief be in his place. Carmen was squatting down near me, and every now and then she wouldrattle her castanets and hum a tune. Then, drawing close to me, as ifshe would have whispered in my ear, she kissed me two or three timesover almost against my will. 

"'You are a devil, ' said I to her. 

"'Yes, ' she replied. 

"After a few hours' rest, she departed to Gaucin, and the next morning alittle goatherd brought us some food. We stayed there all that day, andin the evening we moved close to Gaucin. We were expecting news fromCarmen, but none came. After daylight broke we saw a muleteer attendinga well-dressed woman with a parasol, and a little girl who seemed tobe her servant. Said Garcia, 'There go two mules and two women whom St. Nicholas has sent us. I would rather have had four mules, but no matter. I'll do the best I can with these. '

"He took his blunderbuss, and went down the pathway, hiding himselfamong the brushwood. 

"We followed him, _El Dancaire_ and I keeping a little way behind. Assoon as the woman saw us, instead of being frightened--and our dresswould have been enough to frighten any one--she burst into a fit of loudlaughter. 'Ah! the _lillipendi_! They take me for an _erani_!'*

 * "The idiots, they take me for a smart lady!"

"It was Carmen, but so well disguised that if she had spoken any otherlanguage I should never have recognised her. She sprang off her mule, and talked some time in an undertone with _El Dancaire_ and Garcia. Thenshe said to me:

"'Canary-bird, we shall meet again before you're hanged. I'm off toGibraltar on gipsy business--you'll soon have news of me. '

"We parted, after she had told us of a place where we should findshelter for some days. That girl was the providence of our gang. We soonreceived some money sent by her, and a piece of news which was stillmore useful to us--to the effect that on a certain day two English lordswould travel from Gibraltar to Granada by a road she mentioned. This wasa word to the wise. They had plenty of good guineas. Garcia would havekilled them, but _El Dancaire_ and I objected. All we took from them, besides their shirts, which we greatly needed, was their money and theirwatches. 

"Sir, a man may turn rogue in sheer thoughtlessness. You lose yourhead over a pretty girl, you fight another man about her, there is acatastrophe, you have to take to the mountains, and you turn from asmuggler into a robber before you have time to think about it. Afterthis matter of the English lords, we concluded that the neighbourhood ofGibraltar would not be healthy for us, and we plunged into the _Sierrade Ronda_. You once mentioned Jose-Maria to me. Well, it was there Imade acquaintance with him. He always took his mistress with him on hisexpeditions. She was a pretty girl, quiet, modest, well-mannered, younever heard a vulgar word from her, and she was quite devoted to him. He, on his side, led her a very unhappy life. He was always runningafter other women, he ill-treated her, and then sometimes he would takeit into his head to be jealous. One day he slashed her with a knife. Well, she only doted on him the more! That's the way with women, andespecially with Andalusians. This girl was proud of the scar on her arm, and would display it as though it were the most beautiful thing in theworld. And then Jose-Maria was the worst of comrades in the bargain. In one expedition we made with him, he managed so that he kept all theprofits, and we had all the trouble and the blows. But I must go back tomy story. We had no sign at all from Carmen. _El Dancaire_ said: 'Oneof us will have to go to Gibraltar to get news of her. She must haveplanned some business. I'd go at once, only I'm too well known atGibraltar. ' _El Tuerto_ said:

"'I'm well known there too. I've played so many tricks on thecrayfish*--and as I've only one eye, it is not overeasy for me todisguise myself. '

 * Name applied by the Spanish populace to the British soldiers, on account of the colour of their uniform. 

"'Then I suppose I must go, ' said I, delighted at the very idea ofseeing Carmen again. 'Well, how am I to set about it?'

"The others answered:

"'You must either go by sea, or you must get through by San Rocco, whichever you like the best; once you are in Gibraltar, inquire in theport where a chocolate-seller called _La Rollona_ lives. When you'vefound her, she'll tell you everything that's happening. '

"It was settled that we were all to start for the Sierra, that I wasto leave my two companions there, and take my way to Gibraltar, inthe character of a fruit-seller. At Ronda one of our men procured mea passport; at Gaucin I was provided with a donkey. I loaded it withoranges and melons, and started forth. When I reached Gibraltar I foundthat many people knew _La Rollona_, but that she was either dead or hadgone _ad finibus terroe_, * and, to my mind, her disappearance explainedthe failure of our correspondence with Carmen. I stabled my donkey, and began to move about the town, carrying my oranges as though to sellthem, but in reality looking to see whether I could not come across anyface I knew. The place is full of ragamuffins from every country in theworld, and it really is like the Tower of Babel, for you can't go tenpaces along a street without hearing as many languages. I did see somegipsies, but I hardly dared confide in them. I was taking stock of them, and they were taking stock of me. We had mutually guessed each otherto be rogues, but the important thing for us was to know whether webelonged to the same gang. After having spent two days in fruitlesswanderings, and having found out nothing either as to _La Rollona_ oras to Carmen, I was thinking I would go back to my comrades as soon as Ihad made a few purchases, when, toward sunset, as I was walking along astreet, I heard a woman's voice from a window say, 'Orange-seller!'

 * To the galleys, or else to all the devils in hell. 

"I looked up, and on a balcony I saw Carmen looking out, beside ascarlet-coated officer with gold epaulettes, curly hair, and allthe appearance of a rich _milord_. As for her, she was magnificentlydressed, a shawl hung on her shoulders, she'd a gold comb in her hair, everything she wore was of silk; and the cunning little wretch, not abit altered, was laughing till she held her sides. 

"The Englishman shouted to me in mangled Spanish to come upstairs, asthe lady wanted some oranges, and Carmen said to me in Basque:

"'Come up, and don't look astonished at anything!'

"Indeed, nothing that she did ought ever to have astonished me. I don'tknow whether I was most happy or wretched at seeing her again. At thedoor of the house there was a tall English servant with a powdered head, who ushered me into a splendid drawing-room. Instantly Carmen said to mein Basque, 'You don't know one word of Spanish, and you don't know me. 'Then turning to the Englishman, she added:

"'I told you so. I saw at once he was a Basque. Now you'll hear what aqueer language he speaks. Doesn't he look silly? He's like a cat that'sbeen caught in the larder!'

"'And you, ' said I to her in my own language, 'you look like an impudentjade--and I've a good mind to scar your face here and now, before yourspark. '

"'My spark!' said she. 'Why, you've guessed that all alone! Are youjealous of this idiot? You're even sillier than you were before ourevening in the _Calle del Candilejo_! Don't you see, fool, that at thismoment I'm doing gipsy business, and doing it in the most brilliantmanner? This house belongs to me--the guineas of that crayfish willbelong to me! I lead him by the nose, and I'll lead him to a place thathe'll never get out of!'

"'And if I catch you doing any gipsy business in this style again, I'llsee to it that you never do any again!' said I. 

"'Ah! upon my word! Are you my _rom_, pray that you give me orders? If_El Tuerto_ is pleased, what have you to do with it? Oughtn't you tobe very happy that you are the only man who can call himself my_minchorro_?'*

 * My "lover, " or rather my "fancy. "

"'What does he say?' inquired the Englishman. 

"'He says he's thirsty, and would like a drink, ' answered Carmen, andshe threw herself back upon a sofa, screaming with laughter at her owntranslation. 

"When that girl begins to laugh, sir, it was hopeless for anybody to tryand talk sense. Everybody laughed with her. The big Englishman began tolaugh too, like the idiot he was, and ordered the servant to bring mesomething to drink. 

"While I was drinking she said to me:

"'Do you see that ring he has on his finger? If you like I'll give it toyou. '

"And I answered:

"'I would give one of my fingers to have your _milord_ out on themountains, and each of us with a _maquila_ in his fist. '

"'_Maquila_, what does that mean?' asked the Englishman. 

"'Maquila, ' said Carmen, still laughing, 'means an orange. Isn't it aqueer word for an orange? He says he'd like you to eat _maquila_. '

"'Does he?' said the Englishman. 'Very well, bring more _maquila_to-morrow. '

"While we were talking a servant came in and said dinner was ready. Then the Englishman stood up, gave me a piastre, and offered his armto Carmen, as if she couldn't have walked alone. Carmen, who was stilllaughing, said to me:

"'My boy, I can't ask you to dinner. But to-morrow, as soon as you hearthe drums beat for parade, come here with your oranges. You'll find abetter furnished room than the one in the _Calle del Candilejo_, andyou'll see whether I am still your _Carmencita_. Then afterwards we'lltalk about gipsy business. '

"I gave her no answer--even when I was in the street I could hear theEnglishman shouting, 'Bring more _maquila_ to-morrow, ' and Carmen'speals of laughter. 

"I went out, not knowing what I should do; I hardly slept, and nextmorning I was so enraged with the treacherous creature that I made upmy mind to leave Gibraltar without seeing her again. But the momentthe drums began to roll, my courage failed me. I took up my net full oforanges, and hurried off to Carmen's house. Her window-shutters had beenpulled apart a little, and I saw her great dark eyes watching for me. The powdered servant showed me in at once. Carmen sent him out with amessage, and as soon as we were alone she burst into one of her fits ofcrocodile laughter and threw her arms around my neck. Never had I seenher look so beautiful. She was dressed out like a queen, and scented;she had silken furniture, embroidered curtains--and I togged out likethe thief I was!

"'_Minchorro_, ' said Carmen, 'I've a good mind to smash up everythinghere, set fire to the house, and take myself off to the mountains. ' Andthen she would fondle me, and then she would laugh, and she danced aboutand tore up her fripperies. Never did monkey gambol nor make such faces, nor play such wild tricks, as she did that day. When she had recoveredher gravity--

"'Hark!' she said, 'this is gipsy business. I mean him to take me toRonda, where I have a sister who is a nun' (here she shrieked withlaughter again). 'We shall pass by a particular spot which I shall makeknown to you. Then you must fall upon him and strip him to the skin. Your best plan would be to do for him, but, ' she added, with a certainfiendish smile of hers, which no one who saw it ever had any desire toimitate, 'do you know what you had better do? Let _El Tuerto_ come upin front of you. You keep a little behind. The crayfish is brave, andskilful too, and he has good pistols. Do you understand?'

"And she broke off with another fit of laughter that made me shiver. 

"'No, ' said I, 'I hate Garcia, but he's my comrade. Some day, maybe, I'll rid you of him, but we'll settle our account after the fashion ofmy country. It's only chance that has made me a gipsy, and in certainthings I shall always be a thorough Navarrese, * as the proverb says. 

 * _Navarro fino_. 

"'You're a fool, ' she rejoined, 'a simpleton, a regular _payllo_. You'rejust like the dwarf who thinks himself tall because he can spit a longway. * You don't love me! Be off with you!'

 * _Or esorjle de or marsichisle, sin chisnar lachinguel_. "The promise of a dwarf is that he will spit a long way. "--A gipsy proverb. 

"Whenever she said to me 'Be off with you, " I couldn't go away. Ipromised I would start back to my comrades and wait the arrival of theEnglishman. She, on her side, promised she would be ill until she leftGibraltar for Ronda. 

"I remained at Gibraltar two days longer. She had the boldness todisguise herself and come and see me at the inn. I departed, I had aplan of my own. I went back to our meeting-place with the information asto the spot and the hour at which the Englishman and Carmen were to passby. I found _El Dancaire_ and Garcia waiting for me. We spent the nightin a wood, beside a fire made of pine-cones that blazed splendidly. Isuggested to Garcia that we should play cards, and he agreed. In thesecond game I told him he was cheating; he began to laugh; I threw thecards in his face. He tried to get at his blunderbuss. I set my foot onit, and said, 'They say you can use a knife as well as the best ruffianin Malaga; will you try it with me?' _El Dancaire_ tried to part us. Ihad given Garcia one or two cuffs, his rage had given him courage, hedrew his knife, and I drew mine. We both of us told _El Dancaire_ hemust leave us alone, and let us fight it out. He saw there was no meansof stopping us, so he stood on one side. Garcia was already bent double, like a cat ready to spring upon a mouse. He held his hat in hisleft hand to parry with, and his knife in front of him--that's theirAndalusian guard. I stood up in the Navarrese fashion, with my left armraised, my left leg forward, and my knife held straight along my rightthigh. I felt I was stronger than any giant. He flew at me like anarrow. I turned round on my left foot, so that he found nothing in frontof him. But I thrust him in the throat, and the knife went in so farthat my hand was under his chin. I gave the blade such a twist that itbroke. That was the end. The blade was carried out of the wound by agush of blood as thick as my arm, and he fell full length on his face. 

"'What have you done?' said _El Dancaire_ to me. 

"'Hark ye, ' said I, 'we couldn't live on together. I love Carmen and Imean to be the only one. And besides, Garcia was a villain. I rememberwhat he did to that poor _Remendado_. There are only two of us left now, but we are both good fellows. Come, will you have me for your friend, for life or death?'

"_El Dancaire_ stretched out his hand. He was a man of fifty. 

"'Devil take these love stories!' he cried. 'If you'd asked him forCarmen he'd have sold her to you for a piastre! There are only two of usnow--how shall we manage for to-morrow?'

"'I'll manage it all alone, ' I answered. 'I can snap my fingers at thewhole world now. '

"We buried Garcia, and we moved our camp two hundred paces farther on. The next morning Carmen and her Englishman came along with two muleteersand a servant. I said to _El Dancaire_:

"'I'll look after the Englishman, you frighten the others--they're notarmed!'

"The Englishman was a plucky fellow. He'd have killed me if Carmenhadn't jogged his elbow. 

"To put it shortly, I won Carmen back that day, and my first words wereto tell her she was a widow. 

"When she knew how it had all happened--

"'You'll always be a _lillipendi_, ' she said. 'Garcia ought to havekilled you. Your Navarrese guard is a pack of nonsense, and he has sentfar more skilful men than you into the darkness. It was just that histime had come--and yours will come too. '

"'Ay, and yours too!--if you're not a faithful _romi_ to me. '

"'So be it, ' said she. 'I've read in the coffee grounds, more than once, that you and I were to end our lives together. Pshaw! what must be, willbe!' and she rattled her castanets, as was her way when she wanted todrive away some worrying thought. 

"One runs on when one is talking about one's self. I dare say all thesedetails bore you, but I shall soon be at the end of my story. Our newlife lasted for some considerable time. _El Dancaire_ and I gathered afew comrades about us, who were more trustworthy than our earlier ones, and we turned our attention to smuggling. Occasionally, indeed, I mustconfess we stopped travellers on the highways, but never unless we wereat the last extremity, and could not avoid doing so; and besides, wenever ill-treated the travellers, and confined ourselves to taking theirmoney from them. 

"For some months I was very well satisfied with Carmen. She still servedus in our smuggling operations, by giving us notice of any opportunityof making a good haul. She remained either at Malaga, at Cordova, or atGranada, but at a word from me she would leave everything, and come tomeet me at some _venta_ or even in our lonely camp. Only once--it was atMalaga--she caused me some uneasiness. I heard she had fixed her fancyupon a very rich merchant, with whom she probably proposed to play herGibraltar trick over again. In spite of everything _El Dancaire_ said tostop me, I started off, walked into Malaga in broad daylight, sought forCarmen and carried her off instantly. We had a sharp altercation. 

"'Do you know, ' said she, 'now that you're my _rom_ for good and all, Idon't care for you so much as when you were my _minchorro_! I won't beworried, and above all, I won't be ordered about. I choose to be free todo as I like. Take care you don't drive me too far; if you tire meout, I'll find some good fellow who'll serve you just as you served _ElTuerto_. '

"_El Dancaire_ patched it up between us; but we had said things to eachother that rankled in our hearts, and we were not as we had been before. Shortly after that we had a misfortune: the soldiers caught us, _ElDancaire_ and two of my comrades were killed; two others were taken. I was sorely wounded, and, but for my good horse, I should have falleninto the soldiers' hands. Half dead with fatigue, and with a bullet inmy body, I sought shelter in a wood, with my only remaining comrade. When I got off my horse I fainted away, and I thought I was going todie there in the brushwood, like a shot hare. My comrade carried me to acave he knew of, and then he sent to fetch Carmen. 

"She was at Granada, and she hurried to me at once. For a wholefortnight she never left me for a single instant. She never closed hereyes; she nursed me with a skill and care such as no woman ever showedto the man she loved most tenderly. As soon as I could stand on my feet, she conveyed me with the utmost secrecy to Granada. These gipsy womenfind safe shelter everywhere, and I spent more than six weeks in a houseonly two doors from that of the _Corregidor_ who was trying to arrestme. More than once I saw him pass by, from behind the shutter. At last Irecovered, but I had thought a great deal, on my bed of pain, and I hadplanned to change my way of life. I suggested to Carmen that we shouldleave Spain, and seek an honest livelihood in the New World. She laughedin my face. 

"'We were not born to plant cabbages, ' she cried. 'Our fate is to live_payllos_! Listen: I've arranged a business with Nathan Ben-Joseph atGibraltar. He has cotton stuffs that he can not get through till youcome to fetch them. He knows you're alive, and reckons upon you. Whatwould our Gibraltar correspondents say if you failed them?'

"I let myself by persuaded, and took up my vile trade once more. 

"While I was hiding at Granada there were bull-fights there, to whichCarmen went. When she came back she talked a great deal about a skilful_picador_ of the name of Lucas. She knew the name of his horse, and howmuch his embroidered jacket had cost him. I paid no attention to this;but a few days later, Juanito, the only one of my comrades who was left, told me he had seen Carmen with Lucas in a shop in the Zacatin. ThenI began to feel alarmed. I asked Carmen how and why she had made the_picador's_ acquaintance. 

"'He's a man out of whom we may be able to get something, ' said she. 'A noisy stream has either water in it or pebbles. He has earned twelvehundred reals at the bull-fights. It must be one of two things: wemust either have his money, or else, as he is a good rider and a pluckyfellow, we can enroll him in our gang. We have lost such an one an suchan one; you'll have to replace them. Take this man with you!'

"'I want neither his money nor himself, ' I replied, 'and I forbid you tospeak to him. '

"'Beware!' she retorted. 'If any one defies me to do a thing, it's veryquickly done. '

"Luckily the _picador_ departed to Malaga, and I set about passing inthe Jew's cotton stuffs. This expedition gave me a great deal to do, andCarmen as well. I forgot Lucas, and perhaps she forgot him too--for themoment, at all events. It was just about that time, sir, that I met you, first at Montilla, and then afterward at Cordova. I won't talk aboutthat last interview. You know more about it, perhaps, than I do. Carmenstole your watch from you, she wanted to have your money besides, andespecially that ring I see on your finger, and which she declared to bea magic ring, the possession of which was very important to her. We hada violent quarrel, and I struck her. She turned pale and began to cry. It was the first time I had ever seen her cry, and it affected me in themost painful manner. I begged her to forgive me, but she sulked with mefor a whole day, and when I started back to Montilla she wouldn't kissme. My heart was still very sore, when, three days later, she joined mewith a smiling face and as merry as a lark. Everything was forgotten, and we were like a pair of honeymoon lovers. Just as we were parting shesaid, 'There's a _fete_ at Cordova; I shall go and see it, and then Ishall know what people will be coming away with money, and I can warnyou. '

"I let her go. When I was alone I thought about the _fete_, and aboutthe change in Carmen's temper. 'She must have avenged herself already, 'said I to myself, 'since she was the first to make our quarrel up. ' Apeasant told me there was to be bull-fighting at Cordova. Then my bloodbegan to boil, and I went off like a madman straight to the bull-ring. Ihad Lucas pointed out to me, and on the bench, just beside the barrier, I recognised Carmen. One glance at her was enough to turn my suspicioninto certainty. When the first bull appeared Lucas began, as I hadexpected to play the agreeable; he snatched the cockade off the bull andpresented it to Carmen, who put it in her hair at once. *

 * _La divisa_. A knot of ribbon, the colour of which indicates the pasturage from which each bull comes. This knot of ribbon is fastened into the bull's hide with a sort of hook, and it is considered the very height of gallantry to snatch it off the living beast and present it to a woman. 

"The bull avenged me. Lucas was knocked down, with his horse on hischest, and the bull on top of both of them. I looked for Carmen, she haddisappeared from her place already. I couldn't get out of mine, and Iwas obliged to wait until the bull-fight was over. Then I went off tothat house you already know, and waited there quietly all that eveningand part of the night. Toward two o'clock in the morning Carmen cameback, and was rather surprised to see me. 

"'Come with me, ' said I. 

"'Very well, ' said she, 'let's be off. '

"I went and got my horse, and took her up behind me, and we travelledall the rest of the night without saying a word to each other. Whendaylight came we stopped at a lonely inn, not far from a hermitage. There I said to Carmen:

"'Listen--I forget everything, I won't mention anything to you. Butswear one thing to me--that you'll come with me to America, and livethere quietly!'

"'No, ' said she, in a sulky voice, 'I won't go to America--I am verywell here. '

"'That's because you're near Lucas. But be very sure that even ifhe gets well now, he won't make old bones. And, indeed, why should Iquarrel with him? I'm tired of killing all your lovers; I'll kill youthis time. '

"She looked at me steadily with her wild eyes, and then she said:

"'I've always thought you would kill me. The very first time I saw you Ihad just met a priest at the door of my house. And to-night, as we weregoing out of Cordova, didn't you see anything? A hare ran across theroad between your horse's feet. It is fate. '

"'Carmencita, ' I asked, 'don't you love me any more?'

"She gave me no answer, she was sitting cross-legged on a mat, makingmarks on the ground with her finger. 

"'Let us change our life, Carmen, ' said I imploringly. 'Let us go awayand live somewhere we shall never be parted. You know we have a hundredand twenty gold ounces buried under an oak not far from here, and thenwe have more money with Ben-Joseph the Jew. '

"She began to smile, and then she said, 'Me first, and then you. I knowit will happen like that. '

"'Think about it, ' said I. 'I've come to the end of my patience and mycourage. Make up your mind--or else I must make up mine. '

"I left her alone and walked toward the hermitage. I found the hermitpraying. I waited till his prayer was finished. I longed to pray myself, but I couldn't. When he rose up from his knees I went to him. 

"'Father, ' I said, 'will you pray for some one who is in great danger?'

"'I pray for every one who is afflicted, ' he replied. 

"'Can you say a mass for a soul which is perhaps about to go into thepresence of its Maker?'

"'Yes, ' he answered, looking hard at me. 

"And as there was something strange about me, he tried to make me talk. 

"'It seems to me that I have seen you somewhere, ' said he. 

"I laid a piastre on his bench. 

"'When shall you say the mass?' said I. 

"'In half an hour. The son of the innkeeper yonder is coming to serveit. Tell me, young man, haven't you something on your conscience that istormenting you? Will you listen to a Christian's counsel?'

"I could hardly restrain my tears. I told him I would come back, andhurried away. I went and lay down on the grass until I heard the bell. Then I went back to the chapel, but I stayed outside it. When he hadsaid the mass, I went back to the _venta_. I was hoping Carmen wouldhave fled. She could have taken my horse and ridden away. But I foundher there still. She did not choose that any one should say I hadfrightened her. While I had been away she had unfastened the hem of hergown and taken out the lead that weighted it; and now she was sittingbefore a table, looking into a bowl of water into which she had justthrown the lead she had melted. She was so busy with her spells that atfirst she didn't notice my return. Sometimes she would take out a bit oflead and turn it round every way with a melancholy look. Sometimes shewould sing one of those magic songs, which invoke the help of MariaPadella, Don Pedro's mistress, who is said to have been the _BariCrallisa_--the great gipsy queen. *

 * Maria Padella was accused of having bewitched Don Pedro. According to one popular tradition she presented Queen Blanche of Bourbon with a golden girdle which, in the eyes of the bewitched king, took on the appearance of a living snake. Hence the repugnance he always showed toward the unhappy princess. 

"'Carmen, ' I said to her, 'will you come with me?' She rose, threw awayher wooden bowl, and put her mantilla over her head ready to start. Myhorse was led up, she mounted behind me, and we rode away. 

"After we had gone a little distance I said to her, 'So, my Carmen, youare quite ready to follow me, isn't that so?'

"She answered, 'Yes, I'll follow you, even to death--but I won't livewith you any more. '

"We had reached a lonely gorge. I stopped my horse. 

"'Is this the place?' she said. 

"And with a spring she reached the ground. She took off her mantilla andthrew it at her feet, and stood motionless, with one hand on her hip, looking at me steadily. 

"'You mean to kill me, I see that well, ' said she. 'It is fate. Butyou'll never make me give in. '

"I said to her: 'Be rational, I implore you; listen to me. All thepast is forgotten. Yet you know it is you who have been my ruin--it isbecause of you that I am a robber and a murderer. Carmen, my Carmen, letme save you, and save myself with you. '

"'Jose, ' she answered, 'what you ask is impossible. I don't love youany more. You love me still, and that is why you want to kill me. IfI liked, I might tell you some other lie, but I don't choose to givemyself the trouble. Everything is over between us two. You are my _rom_, and you have the right to kill your _romi_, but Carmen will always befree. A _calli_ she was born, and a _calli_ she'll die. '

"'Then, you love Lucas?' I asked. 

"'Yes, I have loved him--as I loved you--for an instant--less than Iloved you, perhaps. But now I don't love anything, and I hate myself forever having loved you. '

"I cast myself at her feet, I seized her hands, I watered them with mytears, I reminded her of all the happy moments we had spent together, I offered to continue my brigand's life, if that would please her. Everything, sir, everything--I offered her everything if she would onlylove me again. 

"She said:

"'Love you again? That's not possible! Live with you? I will not do it!'

"I was wild with fury. I drew my knife, I would have had her lookfrightened, and sue for mercy--but that woman was a demon. 

"I cried, 'For the last time I ask you. Will you stay with me?'

"'No! no! no!' she said, and she stamped her foot. 

"Then she pulled a ring I had given her off her finger, and cast it intothe brushwood. 

"I struck her twice over--I had taken Garcia's knife, because I hadbroken my own. At the second thrust she fell without a sound. It seemsto me that I can still see her great black eyes staring at me. Then theygrew dim and the lids closed. 

"For a good hour I lay there prostrate beside her corpse. Then Irecollected that Carmen had often told me that she would like to lieburied in a wood. I dug a grave for her with my knife and laid her init. I hunted about a long time for her ring, and I found it at last. I put it into the grave beside her, with a little cross--perhaps I didwrong. Then I got upon my horse, galloped to Cordova, and gave myself upat the nearest guard-room. I told them I had killed Carmen, but I wouldnot tell them where her body was. That hermit was a holy man! He prayedfor her--he said a mass for her soul. Poor child! It's the _calle_ whoare to blame for having brought her up as they did. "

CHAPTER IV

Spain is one of the countries in which those nomads, scattered all overEurope, and known as Bohemians, Gitanas, Gipsies, Ziegeuner, and soforth, are now to be found in the greatest numbers. Most of these peoplelive, or rather wander hither and thither, in the southern and easternprovinces of Spain, in Andalusia, and Estramadura, in the kingdomof Murcia. There are a great many of them in Catalonia. These lastfrequently cross over into France and are to be seen at all oursouthern fairs. The men generally call themselves grooms, horse doctors, mule-clippers; to these trades they add the mending of saucepans andbrass utensils, not to mention smuggling and other illicit practices. The women tell fortunes, beg, and sell all sorts of drugs, some of whichare innocent, while some are not. The physical characteristics of thegipsies are more easily distinguished then described, and when you haveknown one, you should be able to recognise a member of the race amonga thousand other men. It is by their physiognomy and expression, especially, that they differ from the other inhabitants of the samecountry. Their complexion is exceedingly swarthy, always darker thanthat of the race among whom they live. Hence the name of _cale_ (blacks)which they frequently apply to themselves. * Their eyes, set with adecided slant, are large, very black, and shaded by long and heavylashes. Their glance can only be compared to that of a wild creature. Itis full at once of boldness and shyness, and in this respect their eyesare a fair indication of their national character, which is cunning, bold, but with "the natural fear of blows, " like Panurge. Most of themen are strapping fellows, slight and active. I don't think I ever sawa gipsy who had grown fat. In Germany the gipsy women are often verypretty; but beauty is very uncommon among the Spanish gitanas. When veryyoung, they may pass as being attractive in their ugliness, but oncethey have reached motherhood, they become absolutely repulsive. Thefilthiness of both sexes is incredible, and no one who has not seen agipsy matron's hair can form any conception of what it is, not evenif he conjures up the roughest, the greasiest, and the dustiest headsimaginable. In some of the large Andalusian towns certain of the gipsygirls, somewhat better looking than their fellows, will take more careof their personal appearance. These go out and earn money by performingdances strongly resembling those forbidden at our public balls incarnival time. An English missionary, Mr. Borrow, the author of two veryinteresting works on the Spanish gipsies, whom he undertook to converton behalf of the Bible Society, declares there is no instance of anygitana showing the smallest weakness for a man not belonging to herown race. The praise he bestows upon their chastity strikes me as beingexceedingly exaggerated. In the first place, the great majority arein the position of the ugly woman described by Ovid, "_Casta quam nemorogavit_. " As for the pretty ones, they are, like all Spanish women, very fastidious in choosing their lovers. Their fancy must be taken, and their favour must be earned. Mr. Borrow quotes, in proof of theirvirtue, one trait which does honour to his own, and especially to hissimplicity: he declares that an immoral man of his acquaintance offeredseveral gold ounces to a pretty gitana, and offered them in vain. AnAndalusian, to whom I retailed this anecdote, asserted that the immoralman in question would have been far more successful if he had shown thegirl two or three piastres, and that to offer gold ounces to a gipsy wasas poor a method of persuasion as to promise a couple of millions to atavern wench. However that may be, it is certain that the gitana showsthe most extraordinary devotion to her husband. There is no danger andno suffering she will not brave, to help him in his need. One of thenames which the gipsies apply to themselves, _Rome_, or "the marriedcouple, " seems to me a proof of their racial respect for the marriedstate. Speaking generally, it may be asserted that their chief virtue istheir patriotism--if we may thus describe the fidelity they observe inall their relations with persons of the same origin as their own, theirreadiness to help one another, and the inviolable secrecy which theykeep for each other's benefit, in all compromising matters. And indeedsomething of the same sort may be noticed in all mysterious associationswhich are beyond the pale of the law. 

 * It has struck me that the German gipsies, though they thoroughly understand the word _cale_, do not care to be called by that name. Among themselves they always use the designation _Romane tchave_. 

Some months ago, I paid a visit to a gipsy tribe in the Vosges country. In the hut of an old woman, the oldest member of the tribe, I founda gipsy, in no way related to the family, who was sick of a mortaldisease. The man had left a hospital, where he was well cared for, sothat he might die among his own people. For thirteen weeks he had beenlying in bed in their encampment, and receiving far better treatmentthan any of the sons and sons-in-law who shared his shelter. He had agood bed made of straw and moss, and sheets that were tolerably white, whereas all the rest of the family, which numbered eleven persons, slepton planks three feet long. So much for their hospitality. This very samewoman, humane as was her treatment of her guest said to me constantlybefore the sick man: "_Singo, singo, homte hi mulo_. " "Soon, soon hemust die!" After all, these people live such miserable lives, that areference to the approach of death can have no terrors for them. 

One remarkable feature in the gipsy character is their indifferenceabout religion. Not that they are strong-minded or sceptical. Theyhave never made any profession of atheism. Far from that, indeed, thereligion of the country which they inhabit is always theirs; but theychange their religion when they change the country of their residence. They are equally free from the superstitions which replace religiousfeeling in the minds of the vulgar. How, indeed, can superstition existamong a race which, as a rule, makes its livelihood out of the credulityof others? Nevertheless, I have remarked a particular horror of touchinga corpse among the Spanish gipsies. Very few of these could be inducedto carry a dead man to his grave, even if they were paid for it. 

I have said that most gipsy women undertake to tell fortunes. They dothis very successfully. But they find a much greater source of profitin the sale of charms and love-philters. Not only do they supply toads'claws to hold fickle hearts, and powdered loadstone to kindle love incold ones, but if necessity arises, they can use mighty incantations, which force the devil to lend them his aid. Last year the followingstory was related to me by a Spanish lady. She was walking one day alongthe _Calle d'Alcala_, feeling very sad and anxious. A gipsy woman whowas squatting on the pavement called out to her, "My pretty lady, yourlover has played you false!" (It was quite true. ) "Shall I get himback for you?" My readers will imagine with what joy the proposal wasaccepted, and how complete was the confidence inspired by a person whocould thus guess the inmost secrets of the heart. As it would have beenimpossible to proceed to perform the operations of magic in the mostcrowded street in Madrid, a meeting was arranged for the next day. "Nothing will be easier than to bring back the faithless one to yourfeet!" said the gitana. "Do you happen to have a handkerchief, a scarf, or a mantilla, that he gave you?" A silken scarf was handed her. "Nowsew a piastre into one corner of the scarf with crimson silk--sew halfa piastre into another corner--sew a peseta here--and a two-real piecethere; then, in the middle you must sew a gold coin--a doubloon would bebest. " The doubloon and all the other coins were duly sewn in. "Now giveme the scarf, and I'll take it to the Campo Santo when midnight strikes. You come along with me, if you want to see a fine piece of witchcraft. I promise you shall see the man you love to-morrow!" The gipsy departedalone for the Campo Santo, since my Spanish friend was too much afraidof witchcraft to go there with her. I leave my readers to guess whethermy poor forsaken lady ever saw her lover, or her scarf, again. 

In spite of their poverty and the sort of aversion they inspire, thegipsies are treated with a certain amount of consideration by the moreignorant folk, and they are very proud of it. They feel themselves to bea superior race as regards intelligence, and they heartily despise thepeople whose hospitality they enjoy. "These Gentiles are so stupid, "said one of the Vosges gipsies to me, "that there is no credit in takingthem in. The other day a peasant woman called out to me in the street. I went into her house. Her stove smoked and she asked me to give her acharm to cure it. First of all I made her give me a good bit of bacon, and then I began to mumble a few words in _Romany_. 'You're a fool, ' Isaid, 'you were born a fool, and you'll die a fool!' When I had got nearthe door I said to her, in good German, 'The most certain way of keepingyour stove from smoking is not to light any fire in it!' and then I tookto my heels. "

The history of the gipsies is still a problem. We know, indeed, thattheir first bands, which were few and far between, appeared in EasternEurope towards the beginning of the fifteenth century. But nobody cantell whence they started, or why they came to Europe, and, what is stillmore extraordinary, no one knows how they multiplied, within a shorttime, and in so prodigious a fashion, and in several countries, allvery remote from each other. The gipsies themselves have preserved notradition whatsoever as to their origin, and though most of them dospeak of Egypt as their original fatherland, that is only because theyhave adopted a very ancient fable respecting their race. 

Most of the Orientalists who have studied the gipsy language believethat the cradle of the race was in India. It appears, in fact, thatmany of the roots and grammatical forms of the _Romany_ tongue are tobe found in idioms derived from the Sanskrit. As may be imagined, thegipsies, during their long wanderings, have adopted many foreign words. In every _Romany_ dialect a number of Greek words appear. 

At the present day the gipsies have almost as many dialects as there areseparate hordes of their race. Everywhere, they speak the language ofthe country they inhabit more easily than their own idiom, whichthey seldom use, except with the object of conversing freely beforestrangers. A comparison of the dialect of the German gipsies with thatused by the Spanish gipsies, who have held no communication with eachother for several centuries, reveals the existence of a great number ofwords common to both. But everywhere the original language is notablyaffected, though in different degrees, by its contact with the morecultivated languages into the use of which the nomads have been forced. German in one case and Spanish in the other have so modified the_Romany_ groundwork that it would not be possible for a gipsy from theBlack Forest to converse with one of his Andalusian brothers, although afew sentences on each side would suffice to convince them that each wasspeaking a dialect of the same language. Certain words in very frequentuse are, I believe, common to every dialect. Thus, in every vocabularywhich I have been able to consult, _pani_ means water, _manro_ meansbread, _mas_ stands for meat, and _lon_ for salt. 

The nouns of number are almost the same in every case. The Germandialect seems to me much purer than the Spanish, for it has preservednumbers of the primitive grammatical forms, whereas the Gitanos haveadopted those of the Castilian tongue. Nevertheless, some words are anexception, as though to prove that the language was originally commonto all. The preterite of the German dialect is formed by adding _ium_to the imperative, which is always the root of the verb. In theSpanish _Romany_ the verbs are all conjugated on the model of the firstconjugation of the Castilian verbs. From _jamar_, the infinitive of "toeat, " the regular conjugation should be _jame_, "I have eaten. " From_lillar_, "to take, " _lille_, "I have taken. " Yet, some old gipsiessay, as an exception, _jayon_ and _lillon_. I am not acquainted with anyother verbs which have preserved this ancient form. 

While I am thus showing off my small acquaintance with the _Romany_language, I must notice a few words of French slang which our thieveshave borrowed from the gipsies. From _Les Mysteres de Paris_ honestfolk have learned that the word _chourin_ means "a knife. " This ispure _Romany_--_tchouri_ is one of the words which is common to everydialect. Monsieur Vidocq calls a horse _gres_--this again is a gipsyword--_gras_, _gre_, _graste_, and _gris_. Add to this the word_romanichel_, by which the gipsies are described in Parisian slang. This is a corruption of _romane tchave_--"gipsy lads. " But a piece ofetymology of which I am really proud is that of the word _frimousse_, "face, " "countenance"--a word which every schoolboy uses, or did use, inmy time. Note, in the first place, the Oudin, in his curious dictionary, published in 1640, wrote the word _firlimouse_. Now in _Romany_, _firla_, or _fila_, stands for "face, " and has the same meaning--itis exactly the _os_ of the Latins. The combination of _firlamui_ wasinstantly understood by a genuine gipsy, and I believe it to be true tothe spirit of the gipsy language. 

I have surely said enough to give the readers of Carmen a favourableidea of my _Romany_ studies. I will conclude with the following proverb, which comes in very appropriately: _En retudi panda nasti abela macha_. "Between closed lips no fly can pass. "