"'And some say he ees to be betrothed to her, yes. Señor—Mister Guavera, yes—that ees heem. A splendid man. Poor Torellas. Ah-h, but here ees Juan coming. He speaks the most beautee-full English. Behold—Juan!'
"Ferrero was pointing out a square-shouldered, compactly built, bronzed man of five feet seven or so, who was carving curved shapes out of the air with his hands and pointing to one horse and then another in the parade to illustrate his words. To further illustrate, he carved beautiful figures with his cane and raised one knee after the other violently to depict the animal's action. A man full of gimp, Juan seemed to be. 'It is his new horse,' explained Ferrero. 'He will tell us of it, too.' And he did—went over it all again after he had been introduced to Cogan. 'Oh, a marvel of a horse,' he wound up, 'and I shall ride him in the next fiesta.'
"Ferrero reintroduced Cogan to Juan as one who knew his brother Luis.
"'But I met him only once,' added Cogan.
"'Once? It is sufficient,' assured Juan. 'Fully [pg 302] sufficient. To meet Luis once is to meet him forever. He is always the same. But some others—not so. You have been shipwrecked, yes? You lost everything? Ah-h, that is most hard luck, but do not despair. I, too, was a sailor—one time. One time only, gracias a Dios! My ancestors, I think, were of the land entirely. The sea-sickness—pir-r-h—no, no, not for me. But do not mind. But pardon, señor'—he turned to Ferrero—'attend to me, Ferrero. I am grieved to-day. It is the señora again. What matters it whether a man is a muletero, gaucho, toreador, or what? Torellas, now, has been all—so have I, her brother-in-law—or a seller of hats or a member of the cabinet? What, I ask you'—he turned to Cogan—'are we señor? We are men or we are not? So? Very well, let us say no more, but find a café and have our coffee. It has been very dusty to-day—very.'
"Two cups of coffee, and Juan was talking to Cogan like a brother. And he could talk like a highspeed dynamo. 'A man—can he be no greater than a man, I ask you, sir? Luis, he will be glad to see you, if you came in rags—no matter—he is always the same, always. But the señora—pir-r-h. That is it—you have it—Proud! A good woman, mind'—Juan leaned over and tapped Cogan's arm to let him know there must be no mistake on that point—'the best of women, but'—he sighed—'Luis, [pg 303] he is from home six months in the year, and she it is who has the training of Valera. And once she was as like her father as—oh, and such a heart! But she will become—I fear it now—like her mother. And her mother does not want Torellas.
"'And Torellas! A torero, yes. But whether a man is muletero, vaquero, or torero, what matters it? Torellas has been all three, and I, too—I, her brother-in-law, but what matters it? Luis, my brother, was, oh, so poor when they married, but, my friend, I who say it—I, his brother—a scamp possibly, yes, but we had family. A handsome boy was Luis, and she—I admit it—very beautiful and good. But Luis—Luis becomes wealthy. At once the señora must have a grand son-in-law. Torellas is a toreador,—yes,—but also Torellas is something more than that. The strong arm, the quick eye, the'—Juan slapped himself on the left breast—'the brave heart, yes. But more than that. I know, señor, I who have been'—he touched them off on succeeding finger-tips—'gaucho in Argentina, cowboy in your country, a soldier in the Chilean war, horse-breaker—but I have not fingers sufficient—I who have roamed far, I know men. And Torellas—but you have seen him, señor? Ah-h—then you, too, know. Is he not a man? Ah-h—and surely a man can be but a man. And Torellas,'—Juan pounded the table,—'he is a man—Pir-r'—Juan [pg 304] whirled in his chair—'Pedro, café—al instante. Tres, si, si—tres.'
"'But, Juan,' asks Ferrero when the coffee came, 'a few months ago we thought—'
"'Exactly—we all thought. It is the señora. Listen, Mr. Cogan. You have the warm heart, the friendly eye, you, too, shall know. Torellas and my niece they have regard for each other, and she, the señora, sees no harm until this Guavera, the politician, comes. Oh, a great man—he is to be in the next cabinet—possibly. I repeat—possibly. The señora waits for a chance to terminate with Torellas. Very well. Torellas receives many letters from foolish girls. So do I, and Ferrero. Pir-r-h—what torero of fame does not? And the señora, she points to me—as an example. It is true that I am a weak man and I have no wife—no family—'
"Ferrero began to laugh. 'Mr. Cogan, there was a lady'—begins Ferrero.