The firing of the guns and cannon ceased. A great splendor was
illumining the city. It was the burning of the Audiencia. The fire,
beginning about midnight, was devouring all four sides of that splendid
edifice at one time. Without heeding anything but my errand, I hurried
to the Calle de Anton Trillo. The house of Candiola had been burning
all day. At last the flame had been stifled by pieces of falling roofs,
and between the portions of walls still standing issued black columns
of smoke. Through the window-frames showed patches of sky, and the
bricks, crumbling away, had made a ragged-toothed looking thing of that
which had been an architrave. Part of the wall which fronted on the
garden had fallen down over the balcony, covering the end where the
railing and the stone stairway had been, its stones spreading forward
to the street wall. In the midst of these ruins the cypress stood
unharmed, like the life which remains when the substance is gone. It
raised its black head like a memorial. The gate had been destroyed by
the 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 and
near the grating of a lower window. It was the part of the house which
was best preserved. And, indeed, the lower floor had suffered little,
perhaps nothing; the bulging out of the roof of the principal part had
not affected this, although it was to be expected that it would give
way sooner or later under the great weight. I approached the group to
find Candiola. He was there, seated close to the grating with his hands
crossed, his head upon his breast, his clothing torn and burned. He was
surrounded by a little crowd of women and boys, who were buzzing about
him like bees, pouring forth the whole gamut of insults and taunts. It
cost me no great trouble to put the swarm to flight; and although they
did not all go far away, and persisted in hanging about, thinking to
get a chance at the gold of the rich Candiola, he was at least freed
from the annoyance of their immediate presence, and the sneers and
cruel jests with which he had been tormented.
"Señor soldier," he said to me, "I am grateful to you for putting this
vile mob to flight. Here my house is burned and no one helps me. Are
there no authorities now in Saragossa, señor? What a people! What a
people! It is not because we have not paid our taxes."
"The civil authorities do not occupy themselves except with the
military operations," I answered him; "and so many houses have been
destroyed that it is impossible to run to them all."
"May he be cursed a thousand times!" he cried, "a thousand curses be on
the head of him who has brought all this distress upon us! May he be
tormented in hell for a thousand eternities, and then he would not pay
the penalty of his crime. But what the devil are you looking for here,
señor soldier? Are you not willing to leave me in peace?"
"I have come in search of Señor Candiola," I replied, "in order to take
him where he can be looked after, have his wounds dressed, and be given
a little food."
"For me? I will not leave my house," he cried in a sad voice. "The
committee will have to rebuild it for me. Where do you want to take
me? I am in the situation now to be offered alms. My enemies have
their will, which was to put me in the position of begging alms. But
I shall not beg, no. I will sooner eat my own flesh and drink my own
blood than humble myself before those who have brought me to such a
state. Perhaps they have sold themselves to the French, and prolong the
resistance to earn their money. Then they will deliver the city, and
they will be all right."
"Do leave all those considerations for another time!" I said. "And
follow me now, because it is not the time to think about all that. Your
daughter has found a place of safety, and we will give you a refuge in
the 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. It
is because she is ashamed, that she deserted me. Curse her, and the
hour 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 many
misfortunes in the same day? Am I not good? Do I not do all the good I
can? 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 the
month? If I am a good man, exact and careful, why is such distress
heaped upon me? I am thankful that I have not lost the little that by
hard work I have got together, because it is in a place where the bombs
cannot reach it; but the house and the furniture, and the receipts, and
that which was left in the storehouse! May I be damned, and may the
devils eat me, if when this is all over, and I get together the little
that I have here, I do not leave Saragossa, never again to return!"
"Nothing of all this is to the point now, Señor Candiola," I said
impatiently; "come with me!"
"No," said he furiously. "No, it would be madness! My daughter has
disgraced 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. I
delighted in her companionship; and out of every good deal I set apart
a real to buy her finery,--money badly spent! My God, dost thou punish
me for wasting good money on useless things which if placed at interest
would have been tripled? I had confidence in my daughter. This morning
at daybreak, I began by praying with fervor to the Virgin del Pilar to
free me from the bombardment. I tranquilly opened the window to see
what the weather was. Put yourself in my place, señor soldier, and you
will understand my surprise and pain at seeing two men right over
there in that balcony,--two men, sir. I see them now! One of them was
embracing my daughter. They were both dressed in uniform. I could not
see their faces, for the light of day was yet faint. Hurriedly I left
my room; but when I descended to the garden, the two were already in
the street. My daughter was dumb at seeing her lightness discovered.
Reading in my face the indignation which such vile conduct roused
in 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 the
daughter of this honorable man who has never done wrong to anybody.
Mad child, shameless, you are not my daughter! Leave this place! Two
men, two men in my house at night, with you! Have you not been making
it easy for those men to rob me? Have you not shown them this house
where there are a thousand objects of value which can be concealed in
a pocket? You deserve death. If,--yes,--I am not deceived, those men
carried away something. Two men, two sweethearts! And receiving them
at night and in my house, dishonoring your father and offending God.
And I from my room saw the light in yours, and believed that you
were wakeful and working. You wretched little thing, while you were
in the garden that light in your room was wasting, burning uselessly.
You miserable woman!' Oh, señor soldier, I could not contain my
indignation. I seized her by the arm and dragged her along to throw
her out. In my anger I knew not what I did. The wretched girl begged
my pardon, saying, 'I love him, father, I cannot deny that I love
him.' My fury was redoubled at this, and I cried, 'Cursed be the bread
that I have given you for nineteen years, to invite thieves into my
house! Cursed be the hour when you were born, and the linens in which
we wrapped you on the third of February in the year '91! Sooner shall
the heavens fall, sooner shall the Virgin del Pilar let me go from
her hand, than I will again be your father, and you be for me the
Mariquilla that I have so much loved!'
"I had scarcely said this, señor, when it seemed as if the very heavens
were rent in pieces, falling upon my house. What a terrible noise it
was! A bomb fell upon the roof, and within five minutes two others
fell. We ran in; the flames were spreading hungrily, and the falling
of the roof threatened to bury us where we stood. We tried in great
haste to save some few little things; but it was not possible. This
house, this house which I bought in the year '87 for almost nothing,
because the mortgage on it was foreclosed against a debtor who owed
me five thousand reales with thirteen thousand reales interest,--this
house was fairly crumbling to bits. Over there a plank fell; over there
a pane of glass leaped out; on the side yonder the walls burst in. The
cat yowled, and Doña Guedita fairly clawed me in the face as we got
out of the room. I ventured into my own room to try to get some little
receipts, and came near perishing."
Candiola's distress and moral suffering made it seem as if he had a
nervous disorder. It was plain to be seen that terror and grief had
completely upset him. His talkativeness was not of the sort that
soothes the soul, it was a nervous overflow; and although he appeared
to talk with me, he was in reality addressing himself to invisible
beings. To judge by his gestures, they talked to him in turn. He went
on talking, and answering questions which his imaginary interlocutors
were asking him.
"I have said already that I shall not leave this place while such
a quantity of things which can still be saved is not recovered.
Indeed, am I going to abandon my estate? Are there no authorities
in Saragossa? If there are, then a hundred or two workmen should be
sent here to remove this débris and take out something. But, señor,
is there no one who has any charity for, any compassion upon this
unhappy old man who has never harmed anybody? Shall one sacrifice all
one's life for others, and, coming into such a plight as this, find no
friendly 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 always
been a cautious man, and since the siege began I have put my frugal
savings 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 you
should lift every fragment and break into bits the ruins of this house,
though you make toothpicks of all the wood in it, though you reduce
everything to powder and sift it!"
"Then, Señor Candiola," I said, taking him resolutely by the arm to
lead him away, "if your treasures are safe, what is the good of staying
here to watch them? Let us go!"
"Have you not understood me, you meddlesome fellow?" he cried, loosing
his arm forcibly; "go to the devil, and leave me in peace! How do you
suppose I am going to leave my house when the authorities of Saragossa
have not sent a detachment of troops to guard it? Indeed! Do you
suppose that my house is not full of valuable things? How can you think
that I would go from here without taking them? You can see that this
first story is unhurt? By removing this grating, it could be easily
entered and everything taken away. If I tear myself from here for a
single moment, the thieves will come, the refuse of the neighborhood,
and woe to all my work and my savings then, to the furniture and
utensils which represent forty years of hard work. Look on the table
of my room, señor soldier, and you will find a copper dish which
weighs no less than three pounds. That must be saved at any cost. If
the authorities would send a company of engineers here, as it is their
duty to do--There is a table service in the cupboard in the dining-room
which must remain intact. By entering carefully, propping up the roof,
they could save it. Oh, yes, it is absolutely necessary to save that
set. It is not merely that, señor. In a tin box are my receipts. I
hope to save them. There is also a trunk where I keep two old coats
and some shoes and three hats. All these things are down here on this
story, and are not likely to be hurt. My daughter's clothing is all
irrecoverably lost. Her dresses, her jewelry, her handkerchiefs, her
bottles of perfume would be worth a good sum of money if they were
to be had now. How could it be that all this should be destroyed? My
Lord, what trouble! It must be true that God wished to punish the sin
of my daughter, and the bombs fell upon her bottles of perfume. I
left my waistcoat upon the bed, and in the pocket there was a peseta
and a half. And there are not even twenty men here yet with picks and
spades. Just and merciful Heaven, what are the authorities of Saragossa
thinking about! The double-wicked lamp will not be ruined. It is the
best olive-oil burner in the world. We might find it over yonder, by
lifting carefully the fragments of that corner room. Let them send
workmen here, and see that they do it quickly. How can any one expect
me to leave this place? If I should go, or if I should sleep for a
single instant, the thieves would come. Yes, they will come, and take
away that piece of copper from Palma."
The obstinacy of the miser was so persistent that I resolved to go
without him, leaving him given over to his delirious anxiety. Doña
Guedita now arrived, walking hastily. She brought a pick and spade, and
a little basket in which I saw some provisions.
"Señor," she said, sitting down tired and breathless, "here's the pick
and spade my nephew has given me. They will not need them any more,
because they are not going to make any more fortifications. Here are
some half-spoiled raisins and some crusts of bread." The old woman ate
hungrily; not so Candiola, who, despising the bread, seized the pick.
Resolutely, as if his body were suddenly filled with new energy, he
tried to unhinge the grating; working with eager activity, he said,--
"If the authorities of Saragossa are not willing to do their duty by
me, Doña Guedita, between you and me, we will do it all! You take the
spade and get ready to move the fragments as I dig. Look out for the
beams that are still smoking. Look out for the nails!"
I was trying to interpret the signs of intelligence made me by the
housekeeper, 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 to
set poor Mariquilla's mind at rest, and so, not being able to stay any
longer, I went. Master and servant were working away with great vigor.