The Little Spanish Dancer Part 11

As their boat now moved gently along the water, Fernando's companions slept. All night they had labored, and they were weary. But Fernando could not sleep. Somehow his thoughts kept taking him to Seville, to his parents and his sister Maria. What had become of them?

In all these years he had heard no word from them, and until now, he had barely given them a thought. But tonight--How strange that they should creep into his mind!

A shot rang out hideously. The customs men were after them! Another shot! And another and another! One by one, the smugglers in the little boat crumpled where they sat. Then the small craft itself began to sink--down, down.

All was silent upon the surface of the water. All was silent for a long time, and then Fernando, holding to a floating board, slowly raised his head.

The morning had begun to dawn over the Spanish Pyrenees. A hoa.r.s.e church bell rang out. Fernando looked about him. The customs' men had gone back to France. The smugglers, too, had gone, but not to France; to the bottom of the river.

Fernando swam to sh.o.r.e, and the next day he set off for Seville. He had one aim: to find his family and to try to make up for the heartache he had caused them.

But Fernando was never to see his parents again. Long since the old people had died, and only his sister Maria remained. He found her living in a poor and squalid alley. Yet when he walked into her shabby room, she did not seem in the least surprised to see him.

"I knew that you would come back, Fernando," she said quietly. "I expected you."

Puzzled, he started to speak, but she silenced him.

Then thrusting her hand inside her blouse, she drew out the magic castanets, saying, "They were brought back to me, Fernando!"

Fernando stood fixed to the spot, his eyes upon the old clappers, which he had given away so many years ago in a fit of boyish rage. Then a sudden curious idea occurred to him.

"When were they returned to you?" he asked Maria.

She told him, and he knew then that it had been upon the very same night when his life had been spared, out there upon those dangerous waters--the very same night when he had been thinking so earnestly of his family.

His sister listened while he told her of his many adventures as a smuggler. He promised to give it all up, to help her, and to become an honest man.

"For," he ended, laughing, "there is an old Basque saying, 'If a smuggler is an honest man, then legends are the truth.'"

"But surely, Fernando," said his sister, "you must believe in the legends of the castanets after what has happened to us."

Fernando shook his head.

"I believe only in the power for good," he replied.

Some years later, Fernando had a little son of his own who danced in the cathedral of Seville. And do you see those two old people who sit there watching, solemn-eyed and happy?

They are Fernando and his wife, and they are very proud that their boy is taking his place in this age-old ceremony of their forefathers.

CHAPTER XII

PILAR'S GRANDFATHER REMEMBERS

After Pilar went out, her grandfather lay thinking. Somehow the old man felt better today. He did not fall asleep as soon as Pilar left the house.

He began to wonder where she had gone and why she had taken the castanets with her. He knew that she had been obliged to sell many of her mother's souvenirs, so that they might live. But he hoped that soon he would be able again to provide for his granddaughter and himself.

"Suppose Pilly has gone out to sell the castanets," he thought.

The idea frightened him. Yet he tried to tell himself that he was just a foolish old man, to believe in a fairy tale about the charm of a pair of castanets.

Still he could not help remembering the legends which had been handed down through his family.

He lay dreaming, and before him pa.s.sed the days when Pilar's mother had been young. Her name had been Carmen Pilar Innocentia Gonzales, but she had been known as "Carmen, the Little Spanish Dancer."

As a little girl, she had been just such a graceful dancer as Pilar. And one day a great teacher from Madrid had seen her and had taken her away to study in the capital.

But before that, she had spent much time on the streets of Seville. Her father could still see her playing there with her little friend Tony, who had lived next door.

Tony and his comrades had often staged a bullfight. Tony would be the brave torero (t[+o]-r[=a]'r[=o]) or fighter, while all the neighbors would gather round to watch the sport.

When Tony would plunge his make-believe sword into the make-believe bull, everyone would cheer loudly.

[Ill.u.s.tration: BOYS PLAYING BULLFIGHT]

Bullfighting is still Spain's favorite sport, though recently football has arrived there. The Spanish call it "futbol," and it has become very popular.

But Tony had always wanted to be a torero. Pilar's grandfather lay smiling as he thought of that same Tony, now a wealthy tobacco merchant living in America. He was far from being a bullfighter today.

However, when Pilar's mother, Carmen, grew older, she had been courted by a young man who was a bullfighter. The memory of this young man brought to mind again the fear of losing the castanets.

For Pilar's grandfather recalled a very real and dramatic story about Carmen and Pedro, the young torero.

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

CHAPTER XIII

BULLFIGHT IN MADRID

(A LEGEND OF THE CASTANETS)

In the opera, "Carmen," a girl who works in a cigarette factory of Seville, is loved by a torero, or bullfighter.

The Carmen of this story did not work in a cigarette factory. She was a dancer. But she, too, had an admirer who was a torero. His name was Pedro.

In a few days Pedro was going to fight in a most important corrida, or bullfight, in the city of Madrid. He was going to fight a very fierce and savage bull. But, strange to say, Pedro did not want to kill that bull.

Now, as a general rule, toreros would rather kill bulls than be killed by them, for which you cannot blame the toreros.

In this case, however, it was different. Pedro's father had raised this great bull, Rey, and Pedro was very fond of the animal. In a few days he was expected to go into the arena and kill his pet.