"Embraced her," echoed Don Benigno.
"Embraced her," corroborated Señor Anselmo.
"Really embraced her," added Don Segis in a lugubrious tone.
Their minds were occasionally exercised on the subject of dovecots. Señor Anselmo and Don Benigno were devotedly attached to this pursuit; each had his dovecot, his doves, and mode of management, and long and lively discussions were held occasionally on the subject. The others listened without daring to give an opinion, as they raised their glasses to their lips in solemn silence.
The crime of Las Acenas horrified them, but it did not cause as great a commotion as in the rest of the neighborhood.
At the end of five or six days they returned to their patriarchal customs, and such was their bravery that the majority left their arms behind in the shop.
It was nearer one o'clock than twelve when Don Roque, who had exceeded by three quarterns his usual six, sallied forth with the other five frequenters of the confectioner's in a serried line to their different homes.
Marcones closed the file with his gun on his shoulder. The first of the line was Don Segis, who lived in a little two-windowed house, close to the Augustine convent; then came Don Juan "the Salt," then the coadjutor, and finally Señor Anselmo, pulling out the enormous shining key with which he beat time when he conducted the orchestra, and opened the apartment where he slept.
The mayor remained with his aide-de-camp. He said something, but his aide-de-camp did not hear him. They directed their steps toward home, which was not far off. But before arriving there, Don Roque, who puffed and blew like a whale, and whose walk was unmistakably like the gait of that creature, suddenly stopped and gave a long discourse in a loud voice, of which Marcones caught nothing but the word "robbers" repeated several times. The official, alarmed, looked all round to see if he could see anybody while loading his gun, but he saw nothing to give him reason to suppose that the villains were at hand. Don Roque made another remark, if such a term can be applied to a series of strange, intermittent sounds, both horrible and depressing, but Marcones managed to gather that his chief wished a hunt made in search of the criminals of Las Acenas. Marcones thought that the force was hardly equal to the undertaking; but discipline forbade objections. Moreover, he nourished the hope that few murderers cared about taking the fresh air at such an hour. So, after a careful examination of their weapons, they took their dangerous course through all the streets and alleys of the town.
One is in honor bound to state that Don Roque walked in front as the leader of the valorous enterprise, with his revolver in his left hand, and his sword-stick in his right, leaving his noble breast a mark for the enemy's bullet. Marcones, weighed down by the weight of his gun and his eighty-two years of age, walked six steps behind.