"Go, child, go to bed quickly. Mademoiselle, see that she says her prayers!"
XIII.
The proximity of the feasts put an end to long walks. The promenaders confined themselves to walks on the highroad, returning soon to the town, where the plaza was crowded with busy people. The promenaders included the young ladies of the Combist party, gayly attired, parish priests, ill-shaven, of sickly aspect and dejected looking, gamblers of doubtful appearance and strangers from the Border—all types which Agonde criticised with mordacity, to Nieves' great amusement.
"Do you see those women there? They are the Señoritas de Gondas, three old maids and a young lady, whom they call their niece, but as they have no brother——Those other two are the Molendes, from Cebre, very aristocratic people, God save the mark! The fat one thinks herself superior to Lucifer, and the other writes poetry, and what poetry! I tell Segundo García that he ought to propose to her; they would make an excellent pair. They are staying at Lamajosa's; there they are in their element, for Doña Mercedes Lamajosa, when any visitor comes, in order that it may be known that they are noble, says to her daughters: 'Girls, let one of you bring me my knitting; it must be in the press, where the letters-patent of nobility are.' Those two handsome, well-dressed girls are the Caminos, daughters of the judge."
On the eve of the fair the musicians paraded the streets morning and afternoon, deafening everybody with the noise of their triumphal strains. The plaza in front of the townhall was dotted with booths, which made a gay confusion of brilliant and discordant colors. Before the townhall were erected some odd-looking objects which with equal probability might be taken for instruments of torture, children's toys, or scarecrows, but which were in reality fireworks—trees and wheels which were to burn that night, with magnificent pomp, favored by the stillness of the atmosphere. From the window of the building issued, like a Titanic arm, the pole on which was to be hoisted the gigantic balloon, and along the balustrade ran a series of colored glasses, forming the letters V. A. D. L. C.—a delicate compliment to the representative of the district.
It was already dark when Don Victoriano, accompanied by his wife and daughter, set out for the townhall to see the fireworks. It was with difficulty they made their way through the crowd which filled the plaza, where a thousand discordant noises filled the air—now the timbrel and castanets in some dance, now the buzz of the zanfona, now some slow and melancholy popular copla, now the shout of some aggressive and quarrelsome drunkard. Agonde gave his arm to Nieves, made way for her among the crowd, and explained to her the programme of the night's entertainment.
"Never was there seen a balloon like this year's," he said; "it is the largest we have ever had here. The Romerists are furious."
"And how has my likeness turned out?" asked Don Victoriano with interest.