Toward nightfall the scene grew gayer. More bonfires were lighted. A second, third, and fourth brass band marched through the streets to their own lively strains of music. Jose's quick ear caught many a tune which he afterward played upon his violin. Candles were lighted now on the shrines of the holiday saint. The cathedral bells rang forth a beautiful vesper hymn. And almost before the sun had set, the fireworks began.
"HE AND JOSE LOOKED ACROSS THE CITY."
Antonio bought a bagful of buns and seed-cakes, which they ate as they sat in the ox-cart on the edge of the crowd. It was not long before he saw that Jose was growing very tired.
Antonio stepped down from the cart. "We will start now, Jose. We can watch the fireworks as we move away from the city. Then we can stop outside and let the oxen feed a while. They must be very hungry."
And because the big brother had been so kind, Jose did not object now to the homeward start.
A half mile out in the country, just before they reached the borders of the pine forest, Antonio turned the willing oxen aside to let them crop the thick grass. Seated on a high rock, he and Jose looked across at the city.
Wonderful gleams of colored light—red, blue, green and orange—shot out over the surrounding valleys. Showers of bright stars fell, it seemed, as if at their very feet. The tall granite castle ruin was lighted up with a red glow. The city itself, with its many towers and tops showing in the blaze of color, with its bursts of music which floated across on the soft night air, was like a story or a dream.
At last Antonio turned the oxen to the road again. "Truly we have had a wonderful end to our holiday, Jose," he said.
"Truly we have," Jose replied drowsily. The rest by the roadside had made him very sleepy, and the glare of light had almost blinded his eyes.