“He’s given up the ghost.”
La Flora broke into a wail, but Calatrava seized her violently by the arm and enforced silence.
“Come on ... clear out,” he ordered. With the utmost self-composure he paid the bill, took his guitar and they all left the restaurant.
It was now night; in the distance, Madrid, a pale coppery hue, rose against the soft, melancholy, azure sky which was streaked in the west by long purplish and greenish bands. The stars began to shine and twinkle languidly; the river shot back silvery reflections.
Silently they crossed the Toledo Bridge, each one given up to his own meditations and fears. At the end of the Paseo de los Ocho Hilos they found two carriages; Calatrava, La Aragonesa and La Flora stepped into one, and La Justa and Manuel got into the other.
CHAPTER V
The Police Court Dungeon—Digressions—Manuel’s Statement
On the day following the death of his cousin Manuel eagerly bought the newspapers; they all had accounts of the murder at the restaurant; the customers present at the time were clearly described; Vidal’s body had been identified and it had been established that the assassin was El Bizco, a jail bird who had already been tried for two robberies, and assaults, and the alleged perpetrator of a murder committed upon the Aravaca road.