On the day following the death of his cousin Manuel eagerly bought the newspapers; they all had accounts of the murder at the restaurant; the customers present at the time were clearly described; Vidal’s body had been identified and it had been established that the assassin was El Bizco, a jail bird who had already been tried for two robberies, and assaults, and the alleged2 perpetrator of a murder committed upon the Aravaca road.
La Justa and Manuel were thrown into a terrible panic; they feared lest they should be involved in the crime and be summoned to testify; they were completely at a loss.
After much cogitation3, they decided4 that the most sensible course would be to move off somewhere into the suburbs. La Justa and Manuel sought a place, finding one at last in a house on the Calle de Galileo, near the Tercer Depósito, in Vallehermoso.
The rent was cheap,—three duros per month. The house had two balconies, which looked out upon a large clearing or vacant lot where the stone cutters hewed6 large boulders7. This lot was marked off by a wall of chips left over from the stone cutting, and[298] in the centre was a shack8 where the watchman lived with his family.
The rooms were flooded with light from sunrise to sunset. Save for the terror produced in Manuel by Vidal’s tragic9 end or by some inner impulse thus stirred, Manuel felt his soul quiver with eagerness to begin life anew; he hunted work and found it in a printing-shop of Chamberí. This being shut up all day within the walls of the shop was a violent trial for him; but the very violence that he was forced to practise upon himself gave him courage to persevere10. La Justa, on the other hand, found the time heavy on her hands and went about forever in a glum11, moody12 humour.
One Saturday, after a week of this exemplary life, Manuel returned to the house and did not find La Justa waiting for him. He spent a restless night hoping for her to come back; she did not appear.
The next day she did not return, either; Manuel broke into tears. He understood now that she had deserted13 him. This was the cruel awakening14 from a wondrous15 dream; he had flattered himself that at last they two had risen out of wretched poverty and dishonour16.
During the previous days he had heard La Justa complain of headache, of lack of appetite; but never had he suspected this plot, never could he have believed that she would abandon him like this, in such cold blood.
And he felt so alone, so miserable17, so cowed again! This room, inundated18 with sunshine, which[299] formerly19 he had found so cheery, now seemed sad and sombre. From the balcony he gazed out upon the distant houses with their red roofs. Far off lay Madrid, bathed in a clear, bright atmosphere under a golden sun. Some white clouds sailed slowly, majestically20 by, dissolving and re-forming into their fantastic shapes.
Workingmen’s families, dressed in their Sunday best, tripped by in groups; faintly there came the gay strains of the barrel-organs.
Manuel sat down upon the bed and pondered. How many excellent projects, how many plans cherished in his mind had come to nought21 in his soul! Here he was, only at the beginning of life, and already he felt himself without the strength to fight the battle. Not a hope, not an illusion smiled at him. Work? What for? Set up one column after another of type, walk to work and then back to the house, day in and day out, sleep,—all for what? He was bereft22 of plan, idea, inspiration. He stared into the merry Sunday afternoon, the splashing sunlight,—gazed at the blue heavens, the distant spires23....
Immersed in his hazy24 thoughts Manuel did not hear the knocking at the door; it grew louder with each repetition.
“Can it be La Justa?” he thought. “Impossible.”
Yet he opened the door in the vague hope of confronting her. Two men greeted his sight.
“Manuel Alcázar,” declared one of them, “you are under arrest.”
[300]
“What for?”
“The judge will tell you. Slip into your shoes and come along with us.”
“Am I going to be locked up?” asked Manuel.
“Not unless you do something foolish. Up! Get a move on!”
The three men reached the street and walked to the Paseo de Areneros.
“We’ll take a tram,” said one of the policemen.
They entered the tram; it was so crowded that they were compelled to remain upon the platform. Reaching the Plaza25 de Santa Barbara they got off, and crossing two or three thoroughfares they brought up before Las Salesas; here they turned a corner, passed through a gate, and walked down a long passageway at the end of which was a dungeon. They thrust Manuel in and locked the cell from outside.
They say that solitude26 and silence are, as it were, the father and mother of deep thoughts. Manuel, in the midst of this silence and solitude, could not discover the most insignificant27 idea. And speaking of discovery, he could not discover even in the world of phenomena28 a place where to sit; nor was this so strange, for there wasn’t a chair or bench, however humble29, in the hole. Dejected and exhausted30, he sank to the ground. He lay thus for several hours; all at once a pale illumination entered from above the door, through a transom.
“They’ve put on the lights,” said Manuel to himself. “It must be night now.”
[301]
“You’d better obey orders, now, or you’ll be the worse off for it,” said a grave voice.
“But se?or officer, I’m not the man. I’m not the man,” protested a supplicating32 prisoner. “Please let me go home.”
“Come along with you. Get inside!”
“In God’s name! For the love of God! I’m not the man.”
“In with you!”
There was the noise of the man being pushed into the dungeon, followed by the violent slamming of the door. The entreating33 voice continued to cry with wearing monotony:
“I’m not the man.... I’m not the man.... I’m not the man.”
“Good Lord, here’s a bore for you!” said Manuel to himself. “If he runs on like that all night long, I’m in for a fine time!”
Little by little his neighbour’s lamentations abated35, finally subsiding36 into a silent weeping. From the corridor came the rhythmic37 footfalls of some one who was pacing up and down.
Manuel rummaged38 desperately39 through his mind for some idea, if only to amuse himself with it; he could find nothing. The one conclusion he could reach was that it had grown light.
Such a lack of ideas led him, as if by the hand, into a deep slumber40, which in all likelihood did not last more than a couple of hours, yet to him seemed a year. He awoke all mauled up, with a cramp41 in his side; throughout his sleep he had not been able[302] to shake off the realization42 that he was in a cell, but his brief period of rest had been so restorative that he felt strong, ready for whatever should arise.
He still had in his pocket the wages he had received at the printing-shop. Softly he knocked at the cell door.
“I’d like to step out for a moment.”
“Step out.”
He walked into the corridor.
“Could you fetch me a coffee?” he asked of a guard.
“If you pay for it....”
“Of course I’ll pay. Send for a cup of coffee and toast, and a package of cigarettes.”
“Right away,” said the guard.
“What’s the time?” asked Manuel.
“Twelve.”
“If I didn’t have to stick in that hole I’d invite you to have a coffee with me; but....”
“You can have it out here. There’s enough in one cup for two.”
A waiter came with the coffee and cigarettes. They sipped44 the coffee, smoked a cigarette, and the guard, already won over, said to Manuel:
“Take one of these benches in with you to sleep on.”
Manuel took a bench and stretched out at full length. On the previous day, though free, he had felt weak and crestfallen45; now, though in custody,[303] he felt strong. Plans piled up in his thoughts, but he could not sleep.
Physical exhaustion46 consumes the strength and excites the brain; the imagination wings in the darkness as do nocturnal birds; and, again like them, it takes refuge in ruins.
Manuel did not sleep; but he dreamed and planned a thousand things; some logical, the majority of them absurd. The light of day, filtering dimly in through the transom, scattered47 his ideas upon the future and restored him to thoughts of the immediate48 present.
They would soon be along to take him before the judge. Now what was he going to answer? He’d cook up a story. Accident had brought him to the Sotillo Bridge; he did not know Calatrava. But suppose they confronted him with these people? He’d surely get all muddled49. It would be better to come right out with the truth and soften50 it down as much as he could, so as to favour his case. He had become acquainted with Calatrava through his cousin; he saw him from time to time at the Salón; he worked in a printing-shop....
He had just about decided upon this plan when a guard entered the cell.
“Manuel Alcázar.”
“At your service.”
“Proceed to the judge’s room.”
The two men filed down a long corridor and the guard knocked at a door.
“Have we your grace’s permission?” asked the guard.
[304]
“Come in.”
They entered an office with two large windows that afforded a view of the trees on the square. Before the desk was the judge, seated in a high-backed chair. Opposite the desk was a closet in the Gothic style, filled with books. A clerk kept entering and leaving, carrying heaps of documents under his arm; the judge would ask him a stray question and then hurriedly sign a paper.
When he had finished, the guard, cap in hand, approached the judge and informed him in a few words as to Manuel. The magistrate51 threw a hurried glance at the boy, who, at that moment, was thinking:
“I’ll have to tell the truth; for, if I don’t, they’ll tear it out of me and it’ll be so much the worse.”
This decision infused him with a great tranquillity52.
“Step closer,” said the judge.
Manuel came over to the desk.
“What’s your name?”
“Manuel Alcázar.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Trade?”
“Typesetter.”
“Do you swear to answer the truth to all questions put to you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“If you do, then may Heaven reward you for it; if you don’t, may it visit proper punishment upon[305] you. What did you do on the day of the crime?”
“On the night before, Vidal and myself, together with two women, went to see the execution of a soldier. After that we slept for a while in the morning, and at eleven I went with a woman to the restaurant near the Sotillo Bridge, where we had an appointment with Vidal.”
“What relation are you to the murdered man?”
“I was his cousin.”
“Did you ever quarrel with him?”
“No, sir.”
“How did you make a living up to the day on which Vidal died?”
“What did you do to live on gambling?”
“I played with the money that was given to me, at the Círculo de la Amistad, and I handed over my winnings sometimes to Vidal and other times to a lame34 fellow named Calatrava.”
“What offices did Vidal and this cripple fill at the Círculo?”
“The Cripple was secretary to the Master, and Vidal was secretary to the Cripple.”
“What’s the Cripple’s real name?”
“Marcos Calatrava.”
“Through whom did you come to know the Cripple?”
“Through Vidal.”
“Where?”
“How long since is this?”
[306]
“A year.”
“Who took you into the Círculo de la Amistad?”
“Vidal.”
“Do you know a fellow nicknamed El Bizco?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How do you come to know him?”
“He was a friend of Vidal’s when we were kids.”
“Wasn’t he a friend of yours, too?”
“Friend? No. I never had any use for him.”
“Why?”
“Because he struck me as a bad one.”
“Just what do you mean by that?”
“What everybody means; that he was hard-hearted and that he tortured anybody who was weaker than himself.”
“Have you a sweetheart?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is she a public woman?”
“What’s her name?”
“Justa.”
“Where does she live?”
“I don’t know. She left my house day before yesterday.”
“Where did you get to know her?”
“At the home of a ragpicker where I was a servant.”
“What’s that ragpicker’s name?”
“Se?or Custodio.”
“Is it you who are responsible for her being a prostitute?”
[307]
“Not I, sir.”
“When you made her acquaintance, was she already a public woman?”
“No, sir. When I made her acquaintance she was a modiste; a man took her away from home; when I met her for the second time, she was already on the streets.”
The judge contemplated57 him coldly.
“Whose suggestion was it to go to the restaurant near the Sotillo Bridge?”
“Vidal’s.”
“Did you see El Bizco hanging around the restaurant?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Didn’t that surprise you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you know that El Bizco had murdered a woman on the Aravaca road?”
“Vidal told me.”
“After that crime of El Bizco’s, did you ever speak to him?”
“No, sir.”
“Never?”
“No, sir.”
“Be very careful of what you say,” and the judge fixed58 his stare upon Manuel. “After the death of that woman, didn’t you ever—not even once—speak to El Bizco?”
“No, sir,” and Manuel firmly sustained the judge’s stare.
[308]
“Didn’t it strike you as strange that El Bizco should be hanging around the restaurant?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then why didn’t you let Vidal know?”
“Because my cousin had told me never to mention El Bizco to him.”
“Why?”
“Because he was afraid of him. I knew this, and I didn’t want to scare him.”
“When you saw that he was going, why didn’t you warn him that it might be El Bizco?”
“It never occurred to me.”
“What did you do when you heard Vidal’s outcry?”
“I ran out to the restaurant veranda59 together with three women and the Cripple, and from there we saw Vidal and El Bizco on the little island, fighting.”
“How did you know it was they?”
“From Vidal’s cry, and also because he was wearing a white Cordovan hat.”
“What time was it when this happened?”
“I couldn’t say exactly. It was just getting dark.”
“How did you recognize El Bizco?”
“I didn’t make him out; I thought it might be him.”
“Did Vidal have any money on his person?”
“I don’t know.”
“How long did the struggle last?”
“A moment.”
[309]
“Didn’t you men have time to run to his assistance?”
“No, sir. Very soon after we ran to the balcony, Vidal fell to the ground, and the other fellow made for the river and disappeared.”
“Very well. What happened after that?”
“The Cripple and myself hurdled60 the balustrade, jumped into the river and ran over to the island. The Cripple grabbed Vidal’s hand and said, ‘He’s dead.’ Then we both went back to the restaurant and left.”
The judge turned to the clerk:
“You will read him this declaration later, and have him sign it.”
He then rang the bell and the guard appeared.
Manuel left the office, walking out erect62. Several of the judge’s expressions had cut him to the soul, but he was satisfied with his deposition63; they hadn’t got him all mixed up.
He returned to the dungeon and stretched out upon the bench.
“The judge wants to make me out as an accomplice64 in the crime. Either that fellow is mighty65 stupid or mighty wicked. Well, let’s hope for the best.”
At noon the dungeon door opened to admit two men. One was Calatrava; the other, El Garro.
“Hello, kid; I’ve just read in the papers that you were arrested,” said Calatrava.
“As you see. Here they’ve got me.”
[310]
“Have you made a statement?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“Say! What did you think I’d say? The truth.”
“Did you mention my name?”
“I should say so. I mentioned you, the Master and the whole crowd.”
“The hell you did! What a beast!”
“Not at all. Did you imagine that I was going to rot here, though I wasn’t in any way to blame, while the rest of you walked the streets in freedom?”
“You deserve to stick here forever,” exclaimed Calatrava. “Yes, for being such an idiot and a squealer66.”
Manuel simply shrugged67 his shoulders. Calatrava and El Garro exchanged inquiring glances and then left the dungeon.
Manuel went back to his bench. The afternoon was half gone when once more the door opened, admitting the guard. He brought a dish of stew68, some bread, and a bottle of wine.
“Who has sent me this?” asked Manuel.
“A girl named Salvadora.”
The memory suffused69 Manuel with tenderness, and since tenderness did not take away his appetite, he ate his fill and then stretched out on the bench.
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1
dungeon
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| n.地牢，土牢 | |
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alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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cogitation
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| n.仔细思考，计划，设计 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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din
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| n.喧闹声，嘈杂声 | |
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6
hewed
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| v.（用斧、刀等）砍、劈( hew的过去式和过去分词 )；砍成；劈出；开辟 | |
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boulders
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| n.卵石( boulder的名词复数 )；巨砾；（受水或天气侵蚀而成的）巨石；漂砾 | |
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shack
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| adj.简陋的小屋，窝棚 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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10
persevere
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| v.坚持，坚忍，不屈不挠 | |
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glum
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| adj.闷闷不乐的，阴郁的 | |
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moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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14
awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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15
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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16
dishonour
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| n./vt.拒付（支票、汇票、票据等）；vt.凌辱，使丢脸；n.不名誉，耻辱，不光彩 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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inundated
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| v.淹没( inundate的过去式和过去分词 )；（洪水般地）涌来；充满；给予或交予（太多事物）使难以应付 | |
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formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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21
nought
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| n.／adj.无，零 | |
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bereft
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| adj.被剥夺的 | |
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spires
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| n.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的名词复数 ) | |
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hazy
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| adj.有薄雾的，朦胧的；不肯定的，模糊的 | |
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plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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27
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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wails
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| 痛哭，哭声( wail的名词复数 ) | |
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supplicating
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| v.祈求，哀求，恳求( supplicate的现在分词 ) | |
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entreating
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的现在分词 ) | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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abated
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| 减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 )； 减去； 降价； 撤消（诉讼） | |
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subsiding
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的现在分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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rhythmic
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| adj.有节奏的，有韵律的 | |
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rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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cramp
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| n.痉挛；[pl.](腹)绞痛；vt.限制，束缚 | |
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realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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query
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| n.疑问，问号，质问；vt.询问，表示怀疑 | |
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sipped
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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crestfallen
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| adj. 挫败的，失望的，沮丧的 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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muddled
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| adj.混乱的；糊涂的；头脑昏昏然的v.弄乱，弄糟( muddle的过去式)；使糊涂；对付，混日子 | |
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50
soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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magistrate
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| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
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tranquillity
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| n. 平静, 安静 | |
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gambling
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| n.赌博；投机 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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contemplated
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| adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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58
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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59
veranda
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| n.走廊；阳台 | |
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60
hurdled
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| vi.克服困难（hurdle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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61
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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62
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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63
deposition
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| n.免职，罢官；作证；沉淀；沉淀物 | |
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64
accomplice
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| n.从犯，帮凶，同谋 | |
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65
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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66
squealer
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| 发出尖叫声的人；雏鸽；小松鸡；小鹌鹑 | |
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67
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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68
stew
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| n.炖汤，焖，烦恼；v.炖汤，焖，忧虑 | |
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suffused
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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