Then Sandoval turned to him again. Well, he
calmly waited for his approach, and his long sword met him
between the horns. As lightly as a lady touches her cavalier,
he seemed to touch Sandoval; but the brute fell like a stone
at his feet. What a storm of vivas! What clapping of hands
and shouts of `valiente!' And the ladies flung their flowers,
and the men flung their hats into the arena, and Jarocho
stepped proudly enough on them, I can tell you, though he was
watching the door for the next bull."
"Ah, Senor, why will men fight each other, when it is so much
more grand and interesting to fight bulls?"
"Senorita Isabel, if you could only convince them of
that! But then, it is not always interesting to the matadore;
for instance, it is only by the mercy of God and the skill of
an Americano that Jarocho is at this moment out of purgatory."
The Senora raised herself from among the satin pillows of her
sofa, and asked, excitedly; "Was there then some accident,
Senor? Is Jarocho wounded? Poor Jarocho!"
"Not a hair of his head is hurt, Senora. I will tell you.
Saint Jago, who followed Sandoval, was a little devil. He was
light and quick, and had intelligence. You could see by the
gleam in his eyes that he took in the whole scene, and
considered not only the people in the ring, but the people in
the amphitheatre also, to be his tormentors.
Pages:
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230