Carmen (5 page)

“ ‘If I should push you and you should fall, my countryman,’ she continued, in Basque, ‘it would take more than these two Castilian recruits to hold me.’

“Faith, I forgot orders and everything, and said to her:

“ ‘Well, my dear, my countrywoman, try it, and may Our Lady of the Mountain be with you!’

“At that moment we were passing one of the narrow lanes of which there are so many in Seville. All of a sudden Carmen turned and struck me with her fist in the breast. I purposely fell backward. With one spring she leaped over me and began to run, showing us a fleet pair of legs! Basque legs are famous; hers were quite equal to them—as swift and as well moulded. I sprang up instantly; but I held my lance horizontally so as to block the street, so that my men were delayed for a moment when they attempted to pursue her. Then I began to run myself, and they at my heels. But overtake her! there was no danger of that, with our spurs, and sabres, and lances!
^b
In less time than it takes to tell it, the prisoner had disappeared. Indeed, all the women in the quarter favoured her flight, laughed at us, and sent us in the wrong direction.
After much marching and countermarching, we were obliged to return to the guard-house without a receipt from the governor of the prison.

“My men, to avoid being punished, said that Carmen had talked Basque with me; and to tell the truth, it did not seem any too natural that a blow with the fist of so diminutive a girl should upset a fellow of my build so easily. It all seemed decidedly suspicious, or rather it seemed only too clear. When I went off duty I was reduced to the ranks and sent to prison for a month. That was my first punishment since I had been in the service. Farewell to the uniform of a quartermaster, which I fancied that I had already won!

“My first days in prison passed dismally enough. When I enlisted I had imagined that I should at least become an officer. Longa and Mina, countrymen of mine, are captains-general; Chapalangarra, who, like Mina, is a negro and is a refugee in your country—Chapalangarra was a colonel, and I have played tennis twenty times with his brother, who was a poor devil like myself. Now I said to myself: ‘All the time that you have served without punishment is time thrown away. Here you are blacklisted, and to regain the good graces of your superiors, you will have to work ten times harder than when you first enlisted! And why did you receive punishment? For a gypsy hussy, who made a fool of you, and who is doubtless stealing at this moment in some corner of the city.’—But I could not help thinking of her. Would you believe it, señor? I had always before my eyes her silk stockings, full of holes, which she had shown me from top to bottom when she ran away. I looked through the bars into the street, and among all
the women who passed I did not see a single one who could be compared with that devil of a girl! And then, too, in spite of myself, I smelt of the cassia flower she had thrown at me, which, although it had withered, still retained its sweet odour. If there are such things as witches, that girl was one!

“One day the jailer came in and gave me an Alcala
^c
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 go 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.