The Little Spanish Dancer Part 13

Suddenly Carmen cannot look to see her dear friend tortured. She hides her eyes, her delicate little white hands held in front of her face.

But when she hears the crowd yelling, "Pedro! Pedro! Ole! Ole!" she knows that she must uncover her eyes, for soon it will be her turn to act.

A cry from the crowd. The bull has charged and has caught young Pedro by the coat. But Pedro is quick. He finds his feet and twists himself to safety. The crowd cheers loudly.

Backward and forward he dances like a graceful reed, playing with the great beast, and the crowd are wild at his skill. Some throw their hats into the ring.

But Carmen sees the fury and the pain in Rey's eyes. He is wounded. He is frantic. She knows that now her turn has really come and she must call to him with her castanets. There is no time to lose.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BULLFIGHT, MADRID]

Oh, will he remember those peaceful fields and come to her when she plays? For if he does, it has been arranged that he shall live.

But should he not, the end must be the same with Rey as with every other bull in every other fight. Pedro will have to plunge a dagger into the head of his friend.

"Oh, let us win!" prays little Carmen, and she opens her bag where she keeps her castanets.

The magic castanets are gone!

For a moment the world turns around in a crazy whirl. Fear clutches sharply at Carmen's heart. The beast is blind with rage. Soon Pedro will be obliged to make the final dagger thrust or--!

What must Pedro think? That she, his faithful little Carmen, has betrayed him and Rey?

Where are the castanets? Carmen knows well that she brought them with her. Someone has stolen them.

Suddenly Carmen remembers the figure she saw behind the tree that day in the meadow.

Down there, close to the fence, she sees the same man! It is the jealous torero.

He pa.s.ses by, his set face wickedly content, and to Carmen's keen ears comes a familiar sound. From the man's pocket, faint, yet unmistakable, she hears the click of her castanets.

Carmen is out of her seat, past the guards, and inside that dangerous arena. A gasp goes through the audience--a horrified shudder. But Carmen, her black eyes snapping, is as dangerous now as any wild bull.

She has caught the man by the arm, swung him around, and s.n.a.t.c.hed from his pocket her castanets.

Now she stands very still. With her small body drawn up straight and taut, she begins to play.

Pedro is fighting desperately. But everybody knows that soon it must be man or beast. The torero must kill or be killed. The audience is breathless.

Carmen's castanets sing shrilly, with a rolling trill, and, all at once, Rey lifts his ma.s.sive head and listens. The call is sweet. It speaks to him of pleasant things.

What shall he do? Obey that call and follow? Or shall he stay and fight it out with all his sharp-horned strength until the end?

A frenzied murmur issues from the crowd. Slowly the people rise together in their seats, as if a mountain heaved. The bull has turned and now begins to trot toward Carmen's side.

A woman shrieks. Another faints. But proudly Carmen stands, bringing magic rhythm out of her magic castanets. And then she starts to walk away, her wooden clappers coaxing like the Piper's reed and urging Rey to follow her.

He does. The huge beast, like a docile dog, allows the girl with her charm-sound, to lead him out of the arena--out of death and into life.

Little Carmen has won.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE PRADO, MADRID]

CHAPTER XIV

WHERE IS PILAR?

When Pilar left the cathedral, she hurried toward the Street of the Serpents. She would have to be quick. It was growing late, and her grandfather would be waiting for her.

As soon as she had sold the castanets to Juan, she would shop at the market. Then she would go home and cook the dinner.

She made herself think of the good things she would cook. But her eyes filled with tears. How could she think of eating when her precious castanets were soon to be gone?

Besides, what would she and her grandfather live on, after this money was spent? Would they be obliged to ask for charity? Pilar shuddered.

The sound of a hurdy-gurdy came from the Murillo Garden as she pa.s.sed.

She remembered how she used to dance there every evening before her grandfather had become ill.

Her friends were dancing there now--all of them: Maria, Guadalupe, Teresa--yes, even Baby Dolores, happy, carefree, whirling about in their dance.

They had no troubles. They could stay out, dancing, singing, playing as long as they pleased.

She would join them. She must dance just once more to her golden-voiced castanets--just once more before she gave them up to Juan!

Pilar entered the garden.

Meanwhile, at home Pilar's grandfather awoke. He had been dreaming. He had dreamed of that eventful bullfight when his daughter Carmen had saved the life of Pedro's bull, Rey.

Carmen had later married Pedro, and Pilar was their child. But both had pa.s.sed away, leaving their little girl in the old man's care.

What was keeping Pilar now? Where had she gone, and what was taking her such a long time?

Her grandfather began to worry. He raised himself on the pillow. Dusk had fallen. The room was growing dark. Yet he could discern a white object lying on the floor just inside the door. Why, it looked like a letter. But few letters ever arrived at this house. Still it was a letter!

Oh, if Pilar would only come home! She had never been so late before.

"Suppose," he thought, "she has sold the magic castanets, and something terrible has happened to her! Suppose--"

[Ill.u.s.tration: TOLEDO]

But he quickly laughed at his foolish fears, and just then the door swung open and Pilar burst in.

She was weeping bitterly, her arm flung across her eyes. She threw herself down beside her grandfather's bed, sobs shaking her.