I understood what she meant; some of those little flowers, or stiff, hooked plants, had stuck to her so closely that she could not get them off. Immediately I knelt down, and commenced to take off the loves, right and left. The pests stuck to my clothes also. Without changing my position, I raised my eyes toward her and murmured softly:
“They cling to me, too.”
Just at that moment an ugly bat came in, with its heavy and stupid flight, and made the circuit of the room several times; making its appearance where we least expected it, and beating its wings against the wall or brushing against our heads, when we were most unprepared. We laughed and shouted, and armed ourselves with whatever we could lay our hands on—handkerchiefs, tidies—and pursued the hideous monster. Serafín was the first to lay hand upon it. In spite of the sharp cries it uttered on being caught, the acolyte held it tightly, asked for two pins, and, stretching out its membranous wings, fastened it against the window frame. Afterward he stuck a cigarette into its mouth, and lit it with a match; and while the bat struggled in its death agony, its persecutor made a thousand gestures and grimaces at it.
It was a grotesque scene which caused us to shout with laughter, and I was giving myself up to the enjoyment of it when I heard Carmen, ask impatiently:
“Candidiña,—where is Candidiña?”
The girl did not appear. Then Carmen went to the window, and cried:
“Papa, papa, come up here. Come and see the bat we have caught.”
Don Román answered from the garden, “I am coming;” and presently the old man came in with flashing eyes.
The torment of the bat amused him very much; but Carmen interceded for the victim.
“Serafín, leave that poor thing alone. It is all right to kill it, but not to torture it. Don’t be a Jew!”