The Torrent

, and absolute mistress of her home, s

d see what a

loser than ever to her now; and on the prestige of Rafael, the yo

of relations with the authorities at the provincial capital and with the still bigger fish in Madrid. Petitions were heard in the patio the same as ever. Loyal party adherents were

d been dictated from Madrid. Don Ramón had left the party machine in perfect condition; all it needed was enough "grease" to

they spoke of the Distric

on is as powerful as

fellow partisans would bore him with their uncouth merriment and ill-mannered flattery. "You really ought to give your horse a couple of days' rest. Instead of going out for a ride, spend your afternoon at the Club! Our fellows are complaining they never get a sight of you." Whereupon Rafael would give up his rides-his sole pleasure practically-and plunge into a thick smoke-laden atmosphe

Morality" and "Liberty and Faith,"-the rehashings of a faithful, industrious plodder at school, prolix commonplaces seasoned with what metaphysical terminology he rememb

ne dare to argue with him....

canon, but works that he bought himself, following the recommendations of the press, and that his mother respected with the veneration always inspired in her by printed paper sewed and bound, an

n the one known to those about him. French novels transported him to a Paris that far outshone the Madrid he had known for a moment in his graduate days. Love stories awoke in his youthful imagination an ardor for adventure and involved passions in which there was

disguise, with the narrow, selfish, stingy instincts of their parents. They knew the exact market price of oranges and just how much land was owned by each aspirant to their hand; and they adju

so far removed from that other purely imaginative life which rose from

of liberation would come when he got to be deputy. He waited for his com

the great event which would cut his life in two, opening

rare moments of affectionate expansiveness, "the girls will fight

call should come to enter on his heritage. He was like those noble youngsters of bygone centuries who, graced in their cradles by the rank of colonel from the monarch, played around with hoop an

an churches, but paused always to venerate some relic with miracles as famous as absurd. Even so, Rafael managed to catch a confused and passing glimpse of a world different from the one in which he was predestined to pass his life. From a distance he sensed something of the love of pleasure and romance he had drunk in like an intoxicating wine from his reading. In Milan he admired a gilded, adventurous bohemia

itious respect of a rustic churl. "A wretched, ruined lot who haven't even a bed to die on," his mother viewed such people; but Rafael nourished a secret envy for all who lived in that ideal world, which he was certain must be filled with pleasures and exciting things he had scarcely dared to dream of. What would he not give to be a bohemian like the personages he met in the books of Murger, member of a merry band of "intellectuals," leading a life of joy and proud devotion to higher things in a bourgeois age that knew only thirst for money and prejudice of class! Talent for saying pretty things, for writing winged ve

the Club, to court the solitude of the hills and fields. There his imagination could range in greater freedom, peopling the roads, the meadows, the orange groves

m the eminence he was fond of looking out over the vast domains of his family. For all the inhabitants of that fertile plain w

with pines and cypresses rising from the hollows, and extending black, winding, snaky roots out over the fallow soil. At intervals, white shrines with tiny roofs harbored mosaics of glazed tiles depicting the Stations on the Via Dolorosa. The pointed green caps of the cypresses, a

ill-tops. From below, the noises of the restless life and labor of the plain came weakened, softened, by the wind, like the murmuring of waves breaking on a distant shore. Among the prickly-pears that grew in close thicket

ient owners, Moors from the magic gardens of Bagdad, accustomed to the splendors of The Thousand and One Nig

white farmhouses half concealed behind green swirls of forest; spindling smokestacks of irrigation engines, with yellow sooty tops; Alcira, its houses clustered on the island and overflowing to the opposite bank, all of whitish, bony hue, pock-marked with tiny windows; beyond, Carcagente, the rival city, girdled in its belt of leafy orchards; off to

hen, Albufera, with its lake, a sheet of silver glistening in the sunlight; then, Valencia, like a cloud of smoke drifting along the base of a mountain range of hazy blue; and, at last, in the background, the halo, as it were,

ned the fate of those farmer-warriors whose white cloaks he could imagine as still floating among the groves of those magic trees of Asia's paradise. It was the influence of

the Valencian Moor, while beautiful maidens listened from behind the blossoming rose-bushes. And then the catastrophe came. In a torrent of steel, barbarians swept down from the arid hills of Aragon to appease their hunger in the bounty of the plain-the almogávares-naked, wild, bloodthirsty savages, who never washed. And as allies of this horde, bankrupt Christian noblemen, their worn-out lands mortgaged to the Israelite, but good cavalrymen, withal, armored, and with drag

seemed to fly over the ground, their legs horizontal, their nostrils belching smoke, the Moors, the real people of Valencia, conquered, degenerated by the very abundance of their soil, abandoning their gardens before the onrush of brutal, primitive invaders, speeding on their way toward the unen

darting about the roof of the Hermitage. On the mountain side a flock of dark-fleeced sheep was grazing; and when any o

parasols that were gradually rising to view over the edge of his bench. One was of flaming red silk, skilfully embroidered and sugges

acknowledged his courtesy with a slight bow, went on to the other end of the esplanade, and stood, with her back turned to

Rafael knew the whole cit

om her broad, flat, finger-nails; and from her large ungainly feet, quite out of harmony with the pair of stylish boots she was wearing-cast-off articles, doubtless, of the lady. She was pretty, nevertheless, with a fresh exuberance of youth. Her large, gray, credulous eyes were those of a stupid but playful lamb; her h

; on a pair of broad, lithe shoulders, hidden under a blue silk blouse, the lines tapering rapidly, gracefully toward the waist; on a gray skirt, finally, falling in harmonious

only the accented syllables of her words, that seemed to melt together in the melodious silence of t

could make out clearly. Who was this woman whom he had never seen, who spoke a foreign language and yet knew the ribera well? Perhaps the wife of one of the French or English orange-d

the heights. Attracted by the promising appearance of the strange lady, the hermit came forward to greet h

emed to cloud his vision as he looked into her large eyes, so green, so luminous! The golden hair fell forward upon a forehead of pearly whiteness, veined at the temples with delicate lines of blue. Viewed in profile her gracefully moulded nose, quivering with vitality at the nostrils, filled out a beauty that was distinctly modern, piquantly charming. In those lineaments, Rafael thought he could

of the hermitage, where his wife and daughter had appeared, to feast th

ame here alone all the way from Majorca. People down in Palma claim they have the real Virgin. But what can they say for themselve

my as a cellar. At the rear, on a baroque altar of tarnished gold

irgin from profanation he brought her to Alcira, and built this sanctuary for her. Later people from Majorca came to return her to their island. But the celestial lady had taken a liking to Alcira and its inhabitants. Over the water, and without even wetting her feet, she came gliding back. Then the Majorcans, t

easant eyes traveling from the Virgin to the hermit and from the hermit to the Virgin, plainly expressing the wonder she was feeling at such a porten

e rustic had finished his story. "You understand, of co

," the lady a

t my grandfather and all the folk of his day used to say; and that's what people stil

inkled paper, all the crevices and hollows of her cranium showing, her eyes sunken and dull, her unkempt hair escaping from beneath her knotted kerchief. She was barefoot, carrying her shoes in her hand. She

anting with the effort of the climb, sank upon a little bench

the Virgin del Lluch would ultimately cure her. And, though at home she could scarcely move from her chair and was always being scol

pting a copper coin she offered. A few cou

And his daughter came into the chapel-a dirty, dark-skinned creatu

ed to do a dull task day after day; and in a hoarse, harsh, almost frantic voice, which echoed deafeningly in that small

under her skirts, repeated a refrain at the end of each stanza, imploring the protection of the Virgin. Her voice had a weak and hollow sound, like the wail of a child.

maid had knelt and was following the sing-song rhythm of the chant, wi

faith is!" the lady

a; a beauti

one of the other "sound" authors he had studied. But he ransacked his memory in vain. Nothing!

etter? Were the visits to the Virgin doing good?... The unfortunate woman did not dare to answer, for fear of offending the miraculous Lady. She did not know!... Yes ... she really must be a little better ... But that climb!... This offering had not had such good results as the previous ones, she t

er swoon, opened her eyes and gazed vacantly at the stranger, n

itnessing. Rafael followed, with affected absent-mindedness, somewhat ashamed of his i

panorama, where the eye ran unobstructed to the very limit of t

f. "How sad and yet how wonderful! This view is eve

ime, though he had scarcely ever deigned to notice her before. "Our peasants are queer people. They despise doctors, and refu

can do for it about as much as faith-sometimes, even less.... But here we are laughing and enjo

s friends, and still under the influence of this meeting, which had so deeply disturbed him, the poor boy imagined himself in the presence of a sage in sk

r attractive sensuous lips, through which two rows of shining, dazzling teeth were

med, without turning toward her compani

e question he had been so eager to put: an

a tremulous voice, fearing lest his

lady repl

range. I have ne

nge about that. I arr

ty. My name is Rafael Brull. I'm the son of d

he "Open Sesame" to that wonderful stranger's grace! After that, perhaps, she would tell him who she was! But the lady commented on his declaration with an "Ah!" of cold indi

king, but wh

in volunteering his name with the pompousness he

ce, that disdainful courtesy, which, without a trace of rudeness, still kept him at a distance,

ng of remaining in

glance from those green eyes! But, alas, this time it was cold and

stakable scorn. "I usually leave places the moment they begin to bore me." And loo

fternoo

tionately over the sick orchard-woman, open a little pink bag that her maid handed her, and, rummaging about among some sparkling trinkets and embroidered handkerchiefs, draw out a hand filled with shining silve

a barely perceptible inclination of her head; and, without lo

h the pines and the cypresses as her proud

she had gone, obsessing him with the atmosphere of superio

s approaching, unable to restrain a desire

ied, rolling his eyes to e

e the poor invalid sat at the door of the Hermitage, staring into her apron blankly, hypnotized by the glitter of all that wealth

ral astonishment. But who

e of the maid," he went on with great conviction: "I should say she

lope. They were barely visible now. The larger of the two, a mere speck of red, was already blen

dious to him now. He fumed with vexation at the memory of that cold glance, which had checked any advance t

here, some time, he knew not when nor how. The heir of don Ramón, the hope of the District, strode furiously on, his arms aquiver with a nervous

!... You peasant! You prov