he had had, on his own account, a feeling that he was really looking at
some one else--though just whom, he could not quite say!

Pascualo pressed a pair of clenched fists to his chest as though his
heart were burning inside him and he were trying to tear it out; then he
brought them down with a noisy thud upon his temples.
"_Recontracordons!_ God of God of God of Gods!" he groaned in a voice of
agony that terrified Rosario. "Holy Christ of the Grao!" He staggered a
few steps across the room, like a drunken man, and threw himself flat on
the floor with a crash that shook the rickety building. He rolled over,
and his legs seemed to bound from the violence of the fall.

When the Rector came to his senses again, he found himself lying on his
back, and something warm and tickling was running over his cheeks, like
a soft wriggling snake. He wiped his face where it hurt, with his hand,
and the hand came back, as he saw in the murky candle light, all covered
with blood. His nose felt hot and swollen. He understood what had
happened. In going to the floor he had struck hard on his face. His nose
had been bleeding in streams. Rosario was just kneeling beside him to
wash the blood away with a damp cloth. The girl's look of terror brought
him back to all he had been hearing, and he repelled her with a gesture
of hatred.

"Don't touch me! I can get up by myself. And much obliged for all you
have told me! No, no! Don't bother to excuse yourself! I'm delighted!
Favors like that are never forgotten. And lucky I bumped my nose.
Otherwise I might have burst a blood vessel. God, how my head aches! But
never mind! Cheer up! What a time I'm going to have! I've been too
good-natured in my life, I have! But why should a fellow try to do right
and put his whole life into working for his family? There's plenty of
loafers, and gossips, and rotten women, standing around to bring an
honest man to ruin. But now watch me, and you'll see something worth
while. This town is going to have something to remember the Rector by,
Pascualo _el Retor_, the most famous _lanudo_ of the Gulf! Ho! Ha!"

Meanwhile, as he muttered on, cursing, bellowing, puffing, threatening,
he had been wiping his face with the wet cloth, as though the cool touch
of it relieved the biting agony within him. Now he strode toward the
door, thrusting his big hands into his sash, in a demeanor of determined
resolution. Rosario rushed in front of him, an expression of horror
writt