Carmen
altogether the most thorough-paced ruffian I ever came across in my
life. Carmen arrived with him, and when she called him her _rom_ in my
presence, you should have seen the eyes she made at me, and the faces
she pulled whenever Garcia turned his head away.
“I was disgusted, and never spoke a word to her all night. The next
morning we had made up our packs, and had already started, when we
became aware that we had a dozen horsemen on our heels. The braggart
Andalusians, who had been boasting they would murder every one who came
near them, cut a pitiful figure at once. There was a general rout. _El
Dancaire_, Garcia, a good-looking fellow from Ecija, who was called _El
Remendado_, and Carmen herself, kept their wits about them. The rest
forsook the mules and took to the gorges, where the horses could not
follow them. There was no hope of saving the mules, so we hastily
unstrapped the best part of our booty, and taking it on our shoulders,
we tried to escape through the rocks down the steepest of the slopes. We
threw our packs down in front of us and followed them as best we could,
slipping along on our heels. Meanwhile the enemy fired at us. It was
the first time I had ever heard bullets whistling around me and I
didn’t mind it very much. When there’s a woman looking on, there’s no
particular merit in snapping one’s fingers at death. We all escaped
except the poor _Remendado_, who received a bullet wound in the loins. I
threw away my pack and tried to lift him up.
“‘Idiot!’ shouted Garcia, ‘what do we want with offal! Finish him off,
and don’t lose the cotton stockings!’
“‘Drop him!’ cried Carmen.
“I was so exhausted that I was obliged to lay him down for a moment
under a rock. Garcia came up, and fired his blunderbuss full into his
face. ‘He’d be a clever fellow who recognised him now!’ said he, as he
looked at the face, cut to pieces by a dozen slugs.
“There, sir; that’s the delightful sort of life I’ve led! That night
we found ourselves in a thicket, worn out with fatigue, with nothing to
eat, and ruined by the loss of our mules. What do you think that devil
Garcia did? He pulled a pack of cards out of his pocket and began
playing games with _El Dancaire_ by the light of a fire they kindled.
Meanwhile I was lying down, staring at the stars, thinking of _El
Remendado_, and telling myself I would just as lief be in his place.
Carmen was squatting down near me, and every now and then she would
rattle her castanets and hum a tune. Then, drawing close to me, as if
she would have whispered in my ear, she kissed me two or three times
over almost against my will.
“‘You are a devil,’ said I to her.
“‘Yes,’ she replied.
“After a few hours’ rest, she departed to Gaucin, and the next morning a
little goatherd brought us some food. We stayed there all that day, and
in the evening we moved close to Gaucin. We were expecting news from
Carmen, but none came. After daylight broke we saw a muleteer attending
a well-dressed woman with a parasol, and a little girl who seemed to
be her servant. Said Garcia, ‘There go two mules and two women whom St.
Nicholas has sent us. I would rather have had four mules, but no matter.
I’ll do the best I can with these.’
“He took his blunderbuss, and went down the pathway, hiding himself
among the brushwood.
“We followed him, _El Dancaire_ and I keeping a little way behind. As
soon as the woman saw us, instead of being frightened--and our dress
would have been enough to frighten any one--she burst into a fit of loud
laughter. ‘Ah! the _lillipendi_! They take me for an _erani_!’ *
* “The idiots, they take me for a smart lady!”
“It was Carmen, but so well disguised that if she had spoken any other
language I should never have recognised her. She sprang off her mule,
and talked some time in an undertone with _El Dancaire_ and Garcia. Then
she said to me:
“‘Canary-bird, we shall meet again before you’re hanged. I’m off to
Gibraltar on gipsy business--you’ll soon have news of me.’
“We parted, after she had told us of a place where we should find
shelter for some days. That girl was the providence of our gang. We soon
received some money sent by her, and a piece of news which was still
more useful to us--to the effect that on a certain day two English lords
would travel from Gibraltar to Granada by a road she mentioned. This was
a word to the wise. They had plenty of good guineas. Garcia would have
killed them, but _El Dancaire_ and I objected. All we took from them,
besides their shirts, which we greatly needed, was their money and their
watches.
“Sir, a man may turn rogue in sheer thoughtlessness. You lose your
head over a pretty girl, you fight another man about her, there is a
catastrophe, you have to take to the mountains, and you turn from a
smuggler into a robber before you have time to think about it. After
this matter of the English lords, we concluded that the neighbourhood of
Gibraltar would not be healthy for us, and we plunged into the _Sierra
de Ronda_. You once mentioned Jose-Maria to me. Well, it was there I
made acquaintance with him. He always took his mistress with him on his
expeditions. She was a pretty girl, quiet, modest, well-mannered, you
never heard a vulgar word from her, and she was quite devoted to him.
He, on his side, led her a very unhappy life. He was always running
after other women, he ill-treated her, and then sometimes he would take
it into his head to be jealous. One day he slashed her with a knife.
Well, she only doted on him the more! That’s the way with women, and
especially with Andalusians. This girl was proud of the scar on her arm,
and would display it as though it were the most beautiful thing in the
world. And then Jose-Maria was the worst of comrades in the bargain.
In one expedition we made with him, he managed so that he kept all the
profits, and we had all the trouble and the blows. But I must go back to
my story. We had no sign at all from Carmen. _El Dancaire_ said: ‘One
of us will have to go to Gibraltar to get news of her. She must have
planned some business. I’d go at once, only I’m too well known at
Gibraltar.’ _El Tuerto_ said:
“‘I’m well known there too. I’ve played so many tricks on the
crayfish*--and as I’ve only one eye, it is not overeasy for me to
disguise myself.’
* Name applied by the Spanish populace to the British
soldiers, on account of the colour of their uniform.
“‘Then I suppose I must go,’ said I, delighted at the very idea of
seeing Carmen again. ‘Well, how am I to set about it?’
“The others answered:
“‘You must either go by sea, or you must get through by San Rocco,
whichever you like the best; once you are in Gibraltar, inquire in the
port where a chocolate-seller called _La Rollona_ lives. When you’ve
found her, she’ll tell you everything that’s happening.’
“It was settled that we were all to start for the Sierra, that I was
to leave my two companions there, and take my way to Gibraltar, in
the character of a fruit-seller. At Ronda one of our men procured me
a passport; at Gaucin I was provided with a donkey. I loaded it with
oranges and melons, and started forth. When I reached Gibraltar I found
that many people knew _La Rollona_, but that she was either dead or had
gone _ad finibus terroe_,* and, to my mind, her disappearance explained
the failure of our correspondence with Carmen. I stabled my donkey,
and began to move about the town, carrying my oranges as though to sell
them, but in reality looking to see whether I could not come across any
face I knew. The place is full of ragamuffins from every country in the
world, and it really is like the Tower of Babel, for you can’t go ten
paces along a street without hearing as many languages. I did see some
gipsies, but I hardly dared confide in them. I was taking stock of them,
and they were taking stock of me. We had mutually guessed each other
to be rogues, but the important thing for us was to know whether we
belonged to the same gang. After having spent two days in fruitless
wanderings, and having found out nothing either as to _La Rollona_ or
as to Carmen, I was thinking I would go back to my comrades as soon as I
had made a few purchases, when, toward sunset, as I was walking along a
street, I heard a woman’s voice from a window say, ‘Orange-seller!’
* To the galleys, or else to all the devils in hell.
“I looked up, and on a balcony I saw Carmen looking out, beside a
scarlet-coated officer with gold epaulettes, curly hair, and all
the appearance of a rich _milord_. As for her, she was magnificently
dressed, a shawl hung on her shoulders, she’d a gold comb in her hair,
everything she wore was of silk; and the cunning little wretch, not a
bit altered, was laughing till she held her sides.
“The Englishman shouted to me in mangled Spanish to come upstairs, as
the lady wanted some oranges, and Carmen said to me in Basque:
“‘Come up, and don’t look astonished at anything!’
“Indeed, nothing that she did ought ever to have astonished me. I don’t
know whether I was most happy or wretched at seeing her again. At the
door of the house there was a tall English servant with a powdered head,
who ushered me into a splendid drawing-room. Instantly Carmen said to me
in Basque, ‘You don’t know one word of Spanish, and you don’t know me.’
Then turning to the Englishman, she added:
“‘I told you so. I saw at once he was a Basque. Now you’ll hear what a
queer language he speaks. Doesn’t he look silly? He’s like a cat that’s
been caught in the larder!’
“‘And you,’ said I to her in my own language, ‘you look like an impudent
jade--and I’ve a good mind to scar your face here and now, before your
spark.’
“‘My spark!’ said she. ‘Why, you’ve guessed that all alone! Are you
jealous of this idiot? You’re even sillier than you were before our
evening in the _Calle del Candilejo_! Don’t you see, fool, that at this
moment I’m doing gipsy business, and doing it in the most brilliant
manner? This house belongs to me--the guineas of that crayfish will
belong to me! I lead him by the nose, and I’ll lead him to a place that
he’ll never get out of!’
“‘And if I catch you doing any gipsy business in this style again, I’ll
see to it that you never do any again!’ said I.
“‘Ah! upon my word! Are you my _rom_, pray that you give me orders? If
_El Tuerto_ is pleased, what have you to do with it? Oughtn’t you to
be very happy that you are the only man who can call himself my
_minchorro_?’ *
* My “lover,” or rather my “fancy.”
“‘What does he say?’ inquired the Englishman.
“‘He says he’s thirsty, and would like a drink,’ answered Carmen, and
she threw herself back upon a sofa, screaming with laughter at her own
translation.
“When that girl begins to laugh, sir, it was hopeless for anybody to try
and talk sense. Everybody laughed with her. The big Englishman began to
laugh too, like the idiot he was, and ordered the servant to bring me
something to drink.
“While I was drinking she said to me:
“‘Do you see that ring he has on his finger? If you like I’ll give it to
you.’
“And I answered:
“‘I would give one of my fingers to have your _milord_ out on the
mountains, and each of us with a _maquila_ in his fist.’
“‘_Maquila_, what does that mean?’ asked the Englishman.
“‘Maquila,’ said Carmen, still laughing, ‘means an orange. Isn’t it a
queer word for an orange? He says he’d like you to eat _maquila_.’
“‘Does he?’ said the Englishman. ‘Very well, bring more _maquila_
to-morrow.’
“While we were talking a servant came in and said dinner was ready.
Then the Englishman stood up, gave me a piastre, and offered his arm
to Carmen, as if she couldn’t have walked alone. Carmen, who was still
laughing, said to me:
“‘My boy, I can’t ask you to dinner. But to-morrow, as soon as you hear