"What a poor man wants is education—to know how to read and write."
This was greeted with shouts of laughter by all who knew El Nacional's mania.
"Now you have given us your ideas, comrade," said Potaje, "let Plumitas go on with his stories; what he is telling us is capital."
The bandit received the banderillero's remarks contemptuously, indeed he thought very little of him owing to his prudence in the circus.
"I know how to read and write. And what good has it done me? When I lived in my village it was useful to get me noticed and to make life seem a little less hard.... What a poor man wants is justice; that he may have his rights, but if they are not given then let him take them. One must be a wolf and spread fear. The other wolves will respect you, and the herds will let themselves be devoured with pleasure. If they find you cowardly and without strength even the sheep will spit on you."
Potaje, who was now very drunk, assented delightedly. He did not exactly understand, still through the mists of drink he seemed to perceive the brilliancy of supreme wisdom.
"That is true, comrade. Go on; capital."
"I have seen what the world is," continued the bandit. "The world is divided into two classes—the shorn and the shearers. I do not wish to be shorn. I was born to be a shearer, because I am a man who fears nothing. The same thing has happened to you, Seño Juan. By struggling we have risen from the low herd, but your path is better than mine."
He was silent for some time, considering the espada. At last he went on in a tone of conviction:
"I believe, Seño Juan, that we have come into the world too late. What things men of valour and enterprise, like ourselves, might have done in former days! You would not have been killing bulls, neither should I be wandering over the country hunted like a wild beast. We might have been viceroys, archipampanos,[93] or something great across the seas. Have you never heard of Pizarro, Seño Juan?"