"Yes, the whole house has probably burned down. Candiola was sure to be shut up in his cellar with his money, and the fire couldn't reach him. Don't worry."
"Gabriel, I must go there, if only for a moment. I wish to see if the fire was really in his house. If my father returns, tell him that I will be back in a second."
The sudden appearance of Don José de Montoria prevented Augustine making the flight which he had just planned, and we two continued digging in the great sepulchre. They began to bring out bodies; and the sick and wounded, who were constantly being brought from without, saw, as they were taken into the church, the wide bed which we were preparing for them. At last the ditch was sufficiently deep, and we were ordered to cease digging. The work went on, and corpses were brought, one by one, and cast into the great sepulchre, while clergymen and pious women upon their knees repeated the mournful words of the service. There was room enough for all, and nothing remained to be done for them but to cover them with earth. Don José Montoria, with head uncovered, reciting in a low voice a paternoster, threw the first handful. Then our shovels and spades began with all speed to cover them. Our work ended, we all knelt down, and prayed in hushed tones. Augustine Montoria said to me when this was done,—
"We will go now. My father will march himself off. Go and tell him that we are going to relieve two friends on duty who have a sick one in their family and wish us to see him. Tell him, for God's sake! I haven't the courage, then in an instant we can be there."
CHAPTER XV
We deceived the old man and went. The night was now far advanced, as the interment which I have just described had lasted more than three hours. The light of the fire could no longer be seen. The mass of the tower was lost in the darkness of night, and its great bell did not sound except now and then to announce the coming of a bomb. We arrived soon at the Plazuela of San Felipe. Seeing the roof of a house near the church still smoking, we knew that it was this, and not the house of Candiola, which three hours before the flames had attacked.
"God has preserved it!" cried Augustine, joyously. "If the meanness of her father should bring divine anger upon that roof, the virtues and innocence of Mariquilla would preserve it! Let us go there."
In the Plazuela of San Felipe there were a few people, but the Calle de Anton Trillo was deserted. We stopped close to the wall of the garden and listened attentively. All was in such deep silence that the house seemed abandoned. Could it really be abandoned? Although this quarter was one of those least damaged by the bombardment, many families had left it, or were living as refugees in their own cellars.
"If I go in," said Augustine to me, "you must come in with me. After the scene of to-day, I am afraid that Don Jeronimo, suspicious and cowardly, like a good miser, will be up all night and about his garden, lest they return and carry off his whole place."