CHAPTER XIX
The firing of the guns and cannon ceased. A great splendor wasillumining the city. It was the burning of the Audiencia. The fire,beginning about midnight, was devouring all four sides of that splendidedifice at one time. Without heeding anything but my errand, I hurriedto the Calle de Anton Trillo. The house of Candiola had been burningall day. At last the flame had been stifled by pieces of falling roofs,and between the portions of walls still standing issued black columnsof smoke. Through the window-frames showed patches of sky, and thebricks, crumbling away, had made a ragged-toothed looking thing of thatwhich had been an architrave. Part of the wall which fronted on thegarden had fallen down over the balcony, covering the end where therailing and the stone stairway had been, its stones spreading forwardto the street wall. In the midst of these ruins the cypress stoodunharmed, like the life which remains when the substance is gone. Itraised its black head like a memorial. The gate had been destroyed bythe axes of those who had rushed up at first to try to put out the fire.
When I penetrated into the garden, I saw some people at the right andnear the grating of a lower window. It was the part of the house whichwas best preserved. And, indeed, the lower floor had suffered little,perhaps nothing; the bulging out of the roof of the principal part hadnot affected this, although it was to be expected that it would giveway sooner or later under the great weight. I approached the group tofind Candiola. He was there, seated close to the grating with his handscrossed, his head upon his breast, his clothing torn and burned. He wassurrounded by a little crowd of women and boys, who were buzzing abouthim like bees, pouring forth the whole gamut of insults and taunts. Itcost me no great trouble to put the swarm to flight; and although theydid not all go far away, and persisted in hanging about, thinking toget a chance at the gold of the rich Candiola, he was at least freedfrom the annoyance of their immediate presence, and the sneers andcruel jests with which he had been tormented.
"Se?or soldier," he said to me, "I am grateful to you for putting thisvile mob to flight. Here my house is burned and no one helps me. Arethere no authorities now in Saragossa, se?or? What a people! What apeople! It is not because we have not paid our taxes."
"The civil authorities do not occupy themselves except with themilitary operations," I answered him; "and so many houses have beendestroyed that it is impossible to run to them all."
"May he be cursed a thousand times!" he cried, "a thousand curses be onthe head of him who has brought all this distress upon us! May he betormented in hell for a thousand eternities, and then he would not paythe penalty of his crime. But what the devil are you looking for here,se?or soldier? Are you not willing to leave me in peace?"
"I have come in search of Se?or Candiola," I replied, "in order to takehim where he can be looked after, have his wounds dressed, and be givena little food."
"For me? I will not leave my house," he cried in a sad voice. "Thecommittee will have to rebuild it for me. Where do you want to takeme? I am in the situation now to be offered alms. My enemies havetheir will, which was to put me in the position of begging alms. ButI shall not beg, no. I will sooner eat my own flesh and drink my ownblood than humble myself before those who have brought me to such astate. Perhaps they have sold themselves to the French, and prolong theresistance to earn their money. Then they will deliver the city, andthey will be all right."
"Do leave all those considerations for another time!" I said. "Andfollow me now, because it is not the time to think about all that. Yourdaughter has found a place of safety, and we will give you a refuge inthe same place."
"I do not move from here. Where is my daughter?" he asked anxiously."She must be mad not to stay beside her father in his distress. Itis because she is ashamed, that she deserted me. Curse her, and thehour when I begat her! Lord Jesus of Nazareth and thou my patron,Saint Dominguito del Val, tell me what have I done to deserve so manymisfortunes in the same day? Am I not good? Do I not do all the good Ican? Do I not favor my neighbors, lending them money at low interest?Suppose I do ask a trifle of three or four reales on the dollar by themonth? If I am a good man, exact and careful, why is such distressheaped upon me? I am thankful that I have not lost the little that byhard work I have got together, because it is in a place where the bombscannot reach it; but the house and the furniture, and the receipts, andthat which was left in the storehouse! May I be damned, and may thedevils eat me, if when this is all over, and I get together the littlethat I have here, I do not leave Saragossa, never again to return!"
"Nothing of all this is to the point now, Se?or Candiola," I saidimpatiently; "come with me!"
"No," said he furiously. "No, it would be madness! My daughter hasdisgraced herself. I do not know why I did not kill her this morning.Until now I had supposed Mariquilla a model of virtue and honesty. Idelighted in her companionship; and out of every good deal I set aparta real to buy her finery,--money badly spent! My God, dost thou punishme for wasting good money on useless things which if placed at interestwould have been tripled? I had confidence in my daughter. This morningat daybreak, I began by praying with fervor to the Virgin del Pilar tofree me from the bombardment. I tranquilly opened the window to seewhat the weather was. Put yourself in my place, se?or soldier, and youwill understand my surprise and pain at seeing two men right overthere in that balcony,--two men, sir. I see them now! One of them wasembracing my daughter. They were both dressed in uniform. I could notsee their faces, for the light of day was yet faint. Hurriedly I leftmy room; but when I descended to the garden, the two were already inthe street. My daughter was dumb at seeing her lightness discovered.Reading in my face the indignation which such vile conduct rousedin me, she threw herself on her knees before me, begging my pardon.'Wretch!' I said in a rage, 'you are not my daughter! You are not thedaughter of this honorable man who has never done wrong to anybody.Mad child, shameless, you are not my daughter! Leave this place! Twomen, two men in my house at night, with you! Have you not been makingit easy for those men to rob me? Have you not shown them this housewhere there are a thousand objects of value which can be concealed ina pocket? You deserve death. If,--yes,--I am not deceived, those mencarried away something. Two men, two sweethearts! And receiving themat night and in my house, dishonoring your father and offending God.And I from my room saw the light in yours, and believed that youwere wakeful and working. You wretched little thing, while you werein the garden that light in your room was wasting, burning uselessly.You miserable woman!' Oh, se?or soldier, I could not contain myindignation. I seized her by the arm and dragged her along to throwher out. In my anger I knew not what I did. The wretched girl beggedmy pardon, saying, 'I love him, father, I cannot deny that I lovehim.' My fury was redoubled at this, and I cried, 'Cursed be the breadthat I have given you for nineteen years, to invite thieves into myhouse! Cursed be the hour when you were born, and the linens in whichwe wrapped you on the third of February in the year '91! Sooner shallthe heavens fall, sooner shall the Virgin del Pilar let me go fromher hand, than I will again be your father, and you be for me theMariquilla that I have so much loved!'
"I had scarcely said this, se?or, when it seemed as if the very heavenswere rent in pieces, falling upon my house. What a terrible noise itwas! A bomb fell upon the roof, and within five minutes two othersfell. We ran in; the flames were spreading hungrily, and the fallingof the roof threatened to bury us where we stood. We tried in greathaste to save some few little things; but it was not possible. Thishouse, this house which I bought in the year '87 for almost nothing,because the mortgage on it was foreclosed against a debtor who owedme five thousand reales with thirteen thousand reales interest,--thishouse was fairly crumbling to bits. Over there a plank fell; over therea pane of glass leaped out; on the side yonder the walls burst in. Thecat yowled, and Do?a Guedita fairly clawed me in the face as we gotout of the room. I ventured into my own room to try to get some littlereceipts, and came near perishing."
Candiola's distress and moral suffering made it seem as if he had anervous disorder. It w
as plain to be seen that terror and grief hadcompletely upset him. His talkativeness was not of the sort thatsoothes the soul, it was a nervous overflow; and although he appearedto talk with me, he was in reality addressing himself to invisiblebeings. To judge by his gestures, they talked to him in turn. He wenton talking, and answering questions which his imaginary interlocutorswere asking him.
"I have said already that I shall not leave this place while sucha quantity of things which can still be saved is not recovered.Indeed, am I going to abandon my estate? Are there no authoritiesin Saragossa? If there are, then a hundred or two workmen should besent here to remove this d?bris and take out something. But, se?or,is there no one who has any charity for, any compassion upon thisunhappy old man who has never harmed anybody? Shall one sacrifice allone's life for others, and, coming into such a plight as this, find nofriendly hand held out to help him? No, no one comes, or if they do,it is to see if they can find any money among the ruins. Ha, ha, ha!"he laughed like a madman. "It is a good joke on them. I have alwaysbeen a cautious man, and since the siege began I have put my frugalsavings in a place so secure that I alone can find them. No, thieves!no, swindlers! no, selfish ones!--you would not find a real, though youshould lift every fragment and break into bits the ruins of this house,though you make toothpicks of all the wood in it, though you reduceeverything to powder and sift it!"
"Then, Se?or Candiola," I said, taking him resolutely by the arm tolead him away, "if your treasures are safe, what is the good of stayinghere to watch them? Let us go!"
"Have you not understood me, you meddlesome fellow?" he cried, loosinghis arm forcibly; "go to the devil, and leave me in peace! How do yousuppose I am going to leave my house when the authorities of Saragossahave not sent a detachment of troops to guard it? Indeed! Do yousuppose that my house is not full of valuable things? How can you thinkthat I would go from here without taking them? You can see that thisfirst story is unhurt? By removing this grating, it could be easilyentered and everything taken away. If I tear myself from here for asingle moment, the thieves will come, the refuse of the neighborhood,and woe to all my work and my savings then, to the furniture andutensils which represent forty years of hard work. Look on the tableof my room, se?or soldier, and you will find a copper dish whichweighs no less than three pounds. That must be saved at any cost. Ifthe authorities would send a company of engineers here, as it is theirduty to do--There is a table service in the cupboard in the dining-roomwhich must remain intact. By entering carefully, propping up the roof,they could save it. Oh, yes, it is absolutely necessary to save thatset. It is not merely that, se?or. In a tin box are my receipts. Ihope to save them. There is also a trunk where I keep two old coatsand some shoes and three hats. All these things are down here on thisstory, and are not likely to be hurt. My daughter's clothing is allirrecoverably lost. Her dresses, her jewelry, her handkerchiefs, herbottles of perfume would be worth a good sum of money if they wereto be had now. How could it be that all this should be destroyed? MyLord, what trouble! It must be true that God wished to punish the sinof my daughter, and the bombs fell upon her bottles of perfume. Ileft my waistcoat upon the bed, and in the pocket there was a pesetaand a half. And there are not even twenty men here yet with picks andspades. Just and merciful Heaven, what are the authorities of Saragossathinking about! The double-wicked lamp will not be ruined. It is thebest olive-oil burner in the world. We might find it over yonder, bylifting carefully the fragments of that corner room. Let them sendworkmen here, and see that they do it quickly. How can any one expectme to leave this place? If I should go, or if I should sleep for asingle instant, the thieves would come. Yes, they will come, and takeaway that piece of copper from Palma."
The obstinacy of the miser was so persistent that I resolved to gowithout him, leaving him given over to his delirious anxiety. Do?aGuedita now arrived, walking hastily. She brought a pick and spade, anda little basket in which I saw some provisions.
"Se?or," she said, sitting down tired and breathless, "here's the pickand spade my nephew has given me. They will not need them any more,because they are not going to make any more fortifications. Here aresome half-spoiled raisins and some crusts of bread." The old woman atehungrily; not so Candiola, who, despising the bread, seized the pick.Resolutely, as if his body were suddenly filled with new energy, hetried to unhinge the grating; working with eager activity, he said,--
"If the authorities of Saragossa are not willing to do their duty byme, Do?a Guedita, between you and me, we will do it all! You take thespade and get ready to move the fragments as I dig. Look out for thebeams that are still smoking. Look out for the nails!"
I was trying to interpret the signs of intelligence made me by thehousekeeper, when he turned to me, saying,--
"Go to the devil! What business have you in my house? Get out of here!We understand you,--you have come to see if you can pick up anything.There is nothing here. Everything is burned up."
There was certainly no hope of taking him with me to Las Tenerias toset poor Mariquilla's mind at rest, and so, not being able to stay anylonger, I went. Master and servant were working away with great vigor.
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