Blood and Sand

by Vicente Blasco Ibáñez

"God's will be done!" said the saddler resignedly. "We will stay here, though what we shall see opposite this doorway I don't know."

About mid-day on the Saturday, Carmen had called Antonio into the matador's study, and told him of her intention to go at once to Madrid. She could not stay in Seville, she had had a week of restless nights, which her imagination had peopled with horrible scenes, and her feminine instinct made her fear some great disaster. She felt she must be by Juan's side, she did not know why, nor what would happen on the journey, all she wanted was to be near Gallardo.

Life was not worth living like this. She had seen in the papers Juan's great fiasco on the previous Sunday. She knew his professional pride, and knew he could not bear this misfortune patiently. The last letter she had received from him had plainly showed her this.

"No, and again no," she said energetically to her brother-in-law's objection. "I start for Madrid this afternoon; if you like to come, well and good, if not, I shall go alone. Above all, not a word to Don José; he would try to prevent my journey!"...

The saddler finally agreed. After all a free journey to Madrid was not a thing to be refused, even though it were in such dismal company. During the journey, Carmen made up her mind; she would speak earnestly to her husband. Why go on bull-fighting? Had they not enough to live on? He must retire at once if he did not wish to kill her. This corrida must be the last one ... and even this was one too many. She hoped to arrive in Madrid in time to prevent her husband fighting, feeling that by her presence she might prevent some catastrophe.

"What rubbish! Just like a woman! If they get a thing into their heads it must be so. Do you think there are no authorities, or laws, or rules in a Plaza? that it is enough for a woman to be frightened and want to run and kiss her husband for the corrida to be stopped and the public disappointed? You may say whatever you like to Juan afterwards, but by now he will be at the corrida. There is no trifling with the authorities; we should all be sent to jail."

When they arrived in Madrid, he had to exert all his powers of persuasion to prevent his companion rushing to her husband's hotel. What would be the result? She would disturb him by her presence, send him to the Plaza in a bad humour, upset his calmness, and then if anything happened all the fault would be hers.

This reflection steadied Carmen, making her give in to her brother-in-law's wishes and go to an hotel of his choosing, where she spent the morning lying on a sofa crying as if she considered misfortune imminent. The saddler, delighted to find himself in Madrid and comfortably lodged, was furious with this despair, which seemed to him ridiculous.

The hotel was near the Puerta del Sol, and the noise of the carriages and people going to the corrida reached her. She could not stay in the house, she must see him. She had not courage enough to go to the spectacle, but she wished to feel near him, and she wished to go to the Plaza. Where was the Plaza? She had never seen it. Even if she could not go in, she could wander round it, feeling that her near presence might influence Gallardo's luck.