death drama most bulls would be breathing hard; but though the brown
velvet of Vivillo's neck was stained dark crimson, neither fatigue nor
pain made his strong heart labour.

More horses were given him, to die as others had died, all save one, which
the bull refused to touch because it was of the colour he knew and was
friendly with at home. It was led at last unscathed; but Vivillo had now
six horses to his credit, and his popularity with the audience had already
risen far beyond that of his predecessors. Still, his activity, instead of
diminishing, seemed to grow with the rising fever of his fury.

In ordinary cases the trumpet would now have sounded for the second act,
dismissing the picadors and summoning the _banderilleros_; but Vivillo in
his present condition was too formidable a foe to be teased by the bravest
with barbed, beribboned darts; and "_Caballos--caballos!_" was the cry.

Four more sacrificial beasts were brought, and he dealt with all, so
nearly goring one picador that an _espada_, dashing to the rescue, was
raced to the barrier, and had his stocking crimsoned as he vaulted over
it.

Vivillo's list of victims had now swelled to ten, and though he had
accepted thirty-three _varas_, or thrusts of the lance, his great
shoulders scarcely shuddered under the red rain of his blood. Still, the
first act could not be further prolonged. The sharp, cruel blast of the
cornet gave the signal for the second to begin.

Dick and I had not spoken, and I dared not look towards Pilar. As the
crowd shouted an imperious demand for the great Fuentes to come into the
ring as _banderillero_, it seemed to me that centuries were swept away by
their wild voices; that this was not the bull-ring of Madrid, but the
Coliseum of Rome.

Vivillo waited, his head up, undaunted; and though his face and attitude
were menacing, the brown eyes, set wide apart, were radiantly innocent. He
seemed a creature made up of nature's best, a product of blue sky, sweet
meadow, and pure air; of his kind, perfection. Did he think now of his old
home in the rich pasture-land, and the tinkle of the friendly _cabestros'_
bells? If he did, the home-sick thought did not make him fear to face what
was to come. Never once had he followed the example of two or three among
his predecessors, and turned towards the shut door of the _toril_ as if
for refuge. Always he had faced the enemy; and now he rushed to play with
his horns for the glittering _bande