"This is the pedestal for the statue of the Duke," said the manager of the mines, in a loud voice.
"Ah, ah! They are going to put up a statue to you?" said one and another, gathering round the great man. He shrugged his shoulders with a deprecating gesture.
"I am sure I don't know. Some absurd notion that has been started in the miners' wine-shops, I suppose."
"No, indeed, Señor Duque," exclaimed the manager, whose duty it had been to start the idea which Llera had suggested to him at a hint from Salabert himself. "No, indeed. The town of Riosa is anxious to erect a monument of its gratitude and respect to a noble patron who, in the most critical circumstances, did not hesitate to risk an enormous sum in the purchase of a half-ruined undertaking, and so to save it from utter disaster."
"What a beautiful thing it is to do good!" exclaimed Lola, in a voice full of feeling; and her pretty eyes rested admiringly on Requena.
Every one complimented him; though many of those present knew the meaning of this magnificent sacrifice. They looked at the work for a minute or two, and then proceeded on their way. The mines were close to the town, on the further side. Outwardly they looked like a manufactory on a small scale, with a few tall chimneys vomiting black smoke. There was nothing to betray their colossal value. The party went into the buildings and over the premises where the subsidiary processes of the works were carried on, and which included carpenters' sheds and forges, the engineers' office and private room, &c. But what impressed them all was the sad and sickly appearance of the operatives. They were all broken with decrepitude, and the Condesa de Cotorraso could not help saying:
"Only old men seem to be employed."
The manager smiled. "They are not old, though they look so, Señora."
"But they are all wrinkled, and their eyes are sunken and dim."
"There is not a man of forty among them. Those whom you see at work here are too far gone to work underground. We employ them up here, but they get less wages."