“One day the jailer came in and gave me an Alcalac loaf.
“ ‘Here,’ said he, ‘your cousin sends you this.’
“I took the loaf, greatly surprised, for I had no cousin in Seville. ‘It may be a mistake,’ I thought as I glanced at the loaf; but it was so appetising, it smelt so good, that, without disturbing myself as to whence it came or for whom it was intended, I determined to eat it. On attempting to cut it my knife came in contact with something hard. I investigated and found a small English file, which had been slipped into the dough before baking. There was also in the loaf a gold piece of two piasters. There was no more doubt in my mind; it was a gift from Carmen. To people of her race freedom is everything, and they would set fire to a city to save themselves from a day in prison. However, she was a shrewd minx, and with that loaf one could snap one’s fingers at jailers. In an hour’s time the stoutest bar could be sawed through with the little file; and with the two piastres I could exchange my uniform for a civilian’s coat at the first old clo’-man’s. You may imagine that a man who had many a time taken young eaglets from their nests on our cliffs would not have been at a loss to climb down into the street from a window less than thirty feet high. But I did not wish to escape. I still possessed my honour as a soldier, and to desert seemed to me a heinous crime. However, I was touched by that token of remembrance. When you are in prison you like to think that you have a friend outside who is interested in you. The gold piece disturbed me a little, and I would have liked to return it; but where was I to find my creditor? That did not seem to me a simple matter.
“After the ceremony of reduction to the ranks, I thought that I could not suffer any more; but I had still another humiliation to undergo: when, on my release from prison, I was restored to duty and made to take my turn at sentry-go like any private. You cannot conceive what a man of spirit feels at such a time. I believe that I would as lief have been shot. Then, at all events, you walk alone, in front of the platoon; you feel that you are somebody; people look at you.
“I was stationed at the colonel’s door. He was a wealthy young man, a good fellow who liked to enjoy himself. All the young officers were at his house, and many civilians—women, too, actresses, so it was said. For my own part, it seemed to me as if the whole city had arranged to meet at his door, in order to stare at me. Finally, the colonel’s carriage drives up, with his valet on the box. Whom do I see alight from it?—the gitanella! She was arrayed like a shrine this time, bedizened and bedecked, all gold and ribbons. A spangled dress, blue slippers, also with spangles, and flowers and lace everywhere. She had a tambourine in her hand. There were two other gypsy women with her, one young and one old. There always is an old woman to go about with them. Then there was an old man, also a gypsy, with a guitar, to play for them to dance. You know that it is the fashion to hire gypsies to go about to parties, to dance the romalis—that is their national dance—and oftentimes for something else.
“Carmen recognised me and we exchanged a glance. I do not know why, but at that moment I would have liked to be a hundred feet underground.
“ ‘Agur laguna,’d she said; ‘you seem to be mounting guard, like a raw recruit, my officer!’
“And before I had thought of a word to say in reply, she was inside the house.
“The whole company was in the patio, and in spite of the crowd, I could see through the gate almost everything that took place.e I heard the castanets, the tambourine, the laughter and applause; sometimes I could see her head when she leaped into the air with her tambourine. And then I heard some of the officers say to her many things that brought the blood to my cheeks. I did not know what she replied. It was that day, I believe, that I began to love her in good earnest; for I was tempted three or four times to go into the patio and run my sabre into the bellies of those popinjays who were making love to her. My torture lasted a good hour; then the gypsies came out and the carriage took them away. Carmen, as she passed, glanced at me again with the eyes that you know, and said, very low:
“ ‘My countryman, when one likes nice fried things, one goes to Lillas Pastia’s at Triana for them.’
“Nimble as a kid, she jumped into the carriage, the coachman whipped his mules, and the whole merry band drove away I know not where.
“You will readily guess that when I was relieved from duty I went to Triana; but I was shaved first, and brushed my clothes as for a dress parade. She was at Lillas Pastia’s, an old gypsy, black as a Moor, who kept an eating-house, to which many civilians came to eat fried fish—especially, I rather think, since Carmen had taken up her quarters there.
“ ‘Lillas,’ she said, as soon as she saw me, ‘I shall do nothing more to-day. It will be light to-morrow.f Come, my countryman, let’s go for a walk.’
“She put her mantilla over her face, and behold, we were in the street, I with no idea where we were going.
“ ‘Señorita,’ I said, ‘I believe that I have to thank you for a present which you sent me when I was in prison. I ate the bread; I shall use the file to sharpen my lance, and I shall keep it in memory of you; but here is the money.’
“ ‘My word! he has kept the money!’ she exclaimed, laughing heartily. ‘However, it’s all the better, for I am not in funds. But what does it matter? the dog that keeps going always finds a bone.g Come on, we will eat it all up. You shall treat me.’
“We were walking in the direction of Seville. As we entered Rue de Serpent, she bought a dozen oranges and bade me put them in my handkerchief. A little farther on she bought bread and sausages, and a bottle of Manzanilla; and finally she entered a confectioner’s shop. There she tossed on the counter the gold piece I had given back to her with another that she had in her pocket and some small silver; then she asked me for all that I had. I had only a piecette and a few cuartos, which I gave her, sorely vexed because I had no more. I thought that she intended to carry off the whole shop. She selected all the best and most expensive sweetmeats: yemas,h turon,i preserved fruits, so long as the money held out. All those things too I must needs carry in paper bags. Perhaps you know Rue de Candilejo, where there’s a head of King Don Pedro the Justiciary?j That head should have suggested some salutary reflections to my mind. We stopped in front of an old house on that street. She entered the passage and knocked at a door on the ground floor. A gypsy woman, a veritable handmaid of Satan, opened the door. Carmen said a few words to her in rommani. The old woman grumbled at first, and Carmen, to pacify her, gave her two oranges and a handful of bonbons, and allowed her to taste the wine. Then she put her cloak over her shoulders and escorted her to the door, which she secured behind her with an iron bar. As soon as we were alone, she began to dance and laugh like a mad woman, saying:
“ ‘You are my rom, and I am your romi!’k
“I stood in the middle of the room, laden with all her purchases, not knowing where to put them. She threw them all on the floor and jumped on my neck, saying:
“ ‘I pay my debts, I pay my debts! That is the law of the cales.’l
“Ah! that day, señor! that day! When I think of it, I forget to-morrow!”
The bandit was silent for a moment; then, having relighted his cigar, he continued:
“We passed the whole day together, eating, drinking, and the rest. When she had eaten her fill of bonbons, like a child of six, she stuffed handfuls of them into the old woman’s water-jar.—‘That’s to make sherbet for her,’ she said. She crushed yemas by throwing them against the wall. “That’s to induce the flies to let us alone,’ she said. There is no conceivable trick and no folly that she did not commit. I told her that I would like to see her dance; but where was she to obtain castanets? She instantly took the old woman’s only plate, broke it in pieces, and in a moment she was dancing the romalis, clapping the pieces of crockery in as perfect time as if they had been castanets of ebony or ivory. One was never bored with that girl, I assure you.
“Night came on and I heard the drums beating the retreat.
“ ‘I must g
o to quarters for the roll-call,’ I said.
“ ‘To quarters?’ she repeated, contemptuously. ‘Are you a negro, pray, that you allow yourself to be led by a stick? You are a regular canary, in dress and in temper!m Go! you are a chicken-hearted fellow!’
“I remained, with my mind made up beforehand to the guard-room. The next morning, she was the first to mention parting.
“ ‘Look you, Joseito,’ she said, ‘have I paid you? According to our law, I owed you nothing, as you are a payllo; but, you are a comely youth, and you took my fancy. We are quits. Good-day.’
“I asked her when I should see her again.
“ ‘When you are less stupid,’ she replied with a laugh. Then, in a more serious tone: ‘Do you know, my son, that I believe that I love you a little bit? But it can’t last. Dog and wolf don’t live happily together for long. Perhaps, if you should swear allegiance to Egypt, I should like to be your romi. But this is foolish talk; it can never be. Believe me, my boy, you have come off cheap. You have met the devil, yes, the devil; he isn’t always black, and he didn’t wring your neck. I am dressed in wool, but I am no sheep.n Go and put a wax candle in front of your majari.o She has well earned it. Well, good-bye once more. Think no more of Carmencita, or she might be the cause of your marrying a widow with wooden legs.’p
“As she spoke she removed the bar that secured the door, and once in the street, she wrapped herself in her mantilla and turned her back on me.
“She spoke truly. I should have been wise to think no more of her; but after that day on Rue de Candilejo, I could think of nothing else. I walked about all day long, hoping to meet her. I asked the old woman and the eating-house keeper for news of her. Both replied that she had gone to Laloro,q which was their way of designating Portugal. Probably they said that in accordance with Carmen’s instructions, but I very soon found out that they lied. Several weeks after my day on Rue de Candilejo, I was on duty at one of the gates of the city. A short distance from the gate there was a breach in the wall; men were at work repairing it during the day, and at night a sentinel was posted there to prevent smuggling. During the day I saw Lillas Pastia going to and fro around the guard-house, and talking with some of my comrades; all of them knew him, and they knew his fish and his fritters even better. He came to me and asked me if I had heard from Carmen.
“ ‘No,’ said I.
“ ‘Well, you will, compadre.’
“He was not mistaken. At night I was stationed at the breach. As soon as the corporal had retired, I saw a woman coming towards me. My heart told me that it was Carmen. However, I shouted:
“ ‘Go back! You cannot pass!’
“ ‘Don’t be disagreeable,’ she said, showing me her face.
“ ‘What! is it you, Carmen?’
“ ‘Yes, my countryman. Let us talk a little and talk quick. Do you want to earn a douro. There are some men coming with bundles; let them alone.’
“ ‘No,’ I replied. ‘I must prevent them from passing; those are my orders.’
“ ‘Orders! orders! So you’ve forgotten the Rue de Candilejo?’
“ ‘Ah!’ I exclaimed, completely overwhelmed by the bare memory of that day. ‘That would be well worth the penalty of forgetting orders; but I want no smugglers’ money.’
“ ‘Well, if you don’t want money, would you like to go again to old Dorothy’s and dine?’
“ ‘No,’ I said, half suffocated by the effort it cost me, ‘I cannot.’
“ ‘Very good. If you are so stiff-backed, I know whom to apply to. I will go to your officer and offer to go to Dorothy’s with him. He looks like a good fellow, and he will put some man on duty who will see no more than he ought to see. Farewell, Canary. I shall laugh with all my heart on the day when the orders are to hang you.’
“I was weak enough to call her back, and I promised to allow all gypsydom to pass, if necessary, provided that I obtained the only reward that I desired. She instantly swore to keep her word on the next day, and hastened away to notify her friends, who were close by. There were five of them,—Pastia was one—all well laden with English goods. Carmen kept watch. She was to give warning with her castanets the instant that she saw the patrol; but she did not need to do it. The smugglers did their work in an instant.
“The next day I went to Rue de Candilejo. Carmen kept me waiting, and when she came she was in a villainous temper.
“ ‘I don’t like people who make you ask them so many times,’ she said. ‘You did me a very great service the first time, without knowing whether you would gain anything by it. Yesterday, you bargained with me. I don’t know why I came, for I don’t love you any more. Here, take this douro for your trouble.’
“I was within an ace of throwing the money at her head, and I was obliged to make a violent effort over myself to keep from striking her. After we had quarrelled for an hour, I left the house in a rage. I wandered about the city a long while, tramping hither and thither like a madman; at last I entered a church, and, seeking out the darkest corner, wept scalding tears. Suddenly I heard a voice:
“ ‘A dragoon’s tears! I must make a love-philtre of them!’
“I raised my eyes; Carmen stood in front of me.
“ ‘Well, my countryman, are you still angry with me?’ she said. ‘It must be that I love you, in spite of what I know of you, for since you left me, I don’t know what is the matter with me. See, I am the one now who asks you to come to Rue de Candilejo.’
“So we made our peace; but Carmen’s moods were like the weather in our country. Among our mountains a storm is never so near as when the sun shines brightest. She promised to meet me again at Dorothy’s, and she did not come. And Dorothy told me coolly that she had gone to Laloro on business of Egypt.
“As I knew already from experience what to think on that subject, I sought Carmen wherever I thought that she could possibly be, and I passed through Rue de Candilejo twenty times a day. One evening I was at Dorothy’s having almost tamed her by treating her now and then to a glass of anisette, when Carmen came in, followed by a young officer, a lieutenant in our regiment.
“ ‘Off with you, quick,’ she said to me in Basque.
“I sat as if stupefied, with rage in my heart.
“ ‘What are you doing here?’ the lieutenant asked me. ‘Decamp, leave this house!’
“I could not take a step; I was like a man who has lost the use of his limbs. The officer, seeing that I did not withdraw, and that I had not even removed my forage cap, lost his temper, seized me by the collar, and shook me roughly. I do not know what I said to him. He drew his sword, and I my sabre. The old woman grasped my arm, and the lieutenant struck me a blow on the forehead, the mark of which I still bear. I stepped back and knocked Dorothy down with a blow of my elbow; then, as the lieutenant followed me, I held the point of my sabre to his breast, and he spitted himself on it. Thereupon Carmen put out the lamp and told Dorothy in her language to fly. I myself rushed out into the street and started to run, I knew not whither. It seemed to me that some one was following me. When I came to my senses, I found that Carmen had not left me.
“ ‘You great idiot of a canary!’ she exclaimed. ‘You can’t do anything but make a fool of yourself! I told you, you know, that I should bring you bad luck. Well! there’s a cure for everything when one has for one’s friend a Roman Fleming.r First of all, put this handkerchief on your head, and toss me that belt. Wait for me in this passage. I will return in two minutes.’
“She disappeared, and soon brought me a striped cloak, which she had obtained heaven knows where. She bade me take off my uniform and put on the cloak over my shirt. Thus attired, with the handkerchief with which she had bound up the wound on my head, I looked not unlike a peasant from Valencia, so many of whom came to Seville to sell their chufass orgeat. Then she took me into a house much like Dorothy’s, at the end of a narrow lane. She and another gypsy washed me and dressed my wound better than any surgeon could have done, and gave me something, I don’t know wha
t, to drink; finally, they laid me on a mattress, and I went to sleep.
“Probably those women had mingled with my drink one of those soporific drugs of which they know the secret, for I did not wake until very late the next day. I had a terrible headache and a little fever. It was some time before I remembered the terrible scene in which I had taken part the night before. After dressing my wound, Carmen and her friend, both squatting beside my mattress, exchanged a few words of chipe calli, which seemed to be a medical consultation. Then they united in assuring me that I should soon be cured, but that I must leave Seville at the earliest possible moment; for, if I should be caught, I would inevitably be shot.
“ ‘My boy,’ said Carmen, ‘you must do something. Now that the king gives you neither rice nor dried fish,t you must think about earning your living. You are too stupid to steal à pastesas;u but you are strong and active; if you have any pluck, go to the coast and be a smuggler. Haven’t I promised to be the cause of your being hung? That’s better than being shot? However, if you go about it the right way you will live like a prince as long as the miñonsv and the coast-guards don’t get their hands on your collar.’
“In this engaging way did that diabolical girl point out to me the new career for which she destined me, the only one, to tell the truth, which remained open to me, now that I had incurred the death penalty. Need I tell you, señor? she prevailed upon me without much difficulty. It seemed to me that I should become more closely united to her by that life of perils and of rebellion. Thenceforth I felt that I was sure of her love. I had often heard of a band of smugglers who infested Andalusia, mounted on good horses, blunderbuss in hand, and their mistresses en croupe. I imagined myself trotting over mountain and valley with the pretty gypsy behind me. When I spoke to her about it she laughed until she held her sides, and told me that there was nothing so fine as a night in camp, when every rom retires with his romi under the little tent formed of three hoops with canvas stretched over them.
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