THE cuadrillas had just entered the ring when loud blows were heard on the door of the Caballerizas.
A plaza employee approached it shouting with ill-humor. Nobody entered there; they must go to another door. But an insistent voice answered him from without, and he opened it.
A man and a woman entered; he wearing a white Cordovan hat, she dressed in black and with a mantilla over her head.
The man grasped the employee's hand, leaving something in it that humanized his fierce aspect.
"You know me, don't you?" said the newcomer. "Really, don't you know me? I am Gallardo's brother-in-law and this lady is his wife."
Carmen gazed all around the abandoned courtyard. In the distance, behind the thick brick walls, sounded music, and the respiration of the multitude could be felt, broken by shouts of enthusiasm and murmurs of curiosity. The cuadrillas were defiling before the president.
"Where is he?" anxiously inquired Carmen.
"Where should he be, woman?" replied the brother-in-law brusquely. "In the plaza, doing his duty. It is madness to have come; nonsense. Oh, this weak character of mine!"
Carmen continued gazing about her, but with a certain indecision, as if repentant for having come there. What was she to do?
The employee moved by Antonio's hand pressure, or by the relationship of those two persons to the matador of fame, became obsequious. If the lady wished to await the termination of the bull-fight, she might rest at the concièrge's house. If they chose to see the corrida, he could get them a good place, although they had no tickets.