It was good luck that Plumitas was ugly, and went ragged and dirty like a vagabond. If not, verily she would have gone with him.
CHAPTER X
A LOOK INTO THE FACE OF DEATH
IT seems a lie, Sebastián. A man like thee, with a wife and children, lending thyself to such wickedness. And I thought better of thee and had confidence in thee when thou wert travelling with Juaniyo! I worried not because he went with a person of character. Where are all those fine things, the honorable ideas and thy religion? Is this what is commanded in those Jew meetings that gather at the house of Don Joselito, the teacher?"
Nacional, alarmed at the indignation of Gallardo's mother, and moved by Carmen's tears as she wept in silence, her face hidden in her kerchief, defended himself stupidly. But as he heard the last words he sat erect with priestly gravity.
"Seña' Angustia', touch not my ideas and leave Don Joselito in peace, an it please you, for he has nothing to do with all this. By the life of the blue dove! I went to La Rincona' because my matador ordered me. Do you know what a cuadrilla is? Just the same as an army: discipline and servility! The matador commands and one must obey. For these bull-fight customs descend from the times of the Inquisition and there is no more conservative trade."
"Clown!" screamed Señora Angustias. "Fine thou art with all thy fables about the Inquisition and Conservatives! Among you all you are killing that poor girl, who spends the whole day shedding tears like the Dolorosa. What thou art anxious about is to cover up my son's rascalities because he feeds thee."
"You have said it, Seña' Angustia'. Juaniyo feeds me, that's it. And since he feeds me, I have to obey him. But look here, Señora; put yourself in my place. My matador tells me I must go to La Rincona'. Good! And at the hour of leaving I find myself in the automobile with a very fine great lady. What can I do? My matador commands. Moreover, I didn't go alone. Potaje went along and he is a person of years and respect."
The bull-fighter's mother was more indignant at this excuse.
"Potaje! A bad man, that Juaniyo would not keep in his cuadrilla if he had any pride! Don't talk to me about that drunkard that beats his wife and keeps his children starving."
"Well, Potaje aside. I say I saw that great lady and what was I to do? She was not a wanton; she is the niece of the marquis who is patron of the maestro—and you well know that bull-fighters have to be on good terms with people of power. They have to live off the public. Then, at the hacienda, nothing! I swear it to you by my own dear ones—nothing! I would be a fine fellow to stand such bad business, even though my matador ordered me to! I am a decent man, Seña' Angustia'. By the life of the dove! When one is on the committee and is consulted on election-day, and counsellors and deputies clasp this hand you see here, can one do certain things? I repeat, nothing! They said you in talking to one another, the same as you and I do; each one spent the night in his proper place; not a wicked look, not an ugly word. Decency at all hours. And if you would like to have Potaje come, he will tell you—"