where he tried
to pass himself off for a Secretary of Legation. He used to come in
and talk for hours, twisting his felt hat in his hairy paws, and his
ambition seemed to become a sort of Duc de Morny to a sort of Napoleon.
Already, then, he used to talk of his brother in inflated terms. He
seemed fairly safe from being found out, because the students, all of
the Blanco families, did not, as you may imagine, frequent the Legation.
It was only Decoud, a man without faith and principles, as they used to
say, that went in there sometimes for the sake of the fun, as it were to
an assembly of trained monkeys. I know his intentions. I have seen him
change the plates at table. Whoever is allowed to live on in terror, I
must die the death.

"No, I didn't stay to the end to hear Don Juste Lopez trying to persuade
himself in a grave oration of the clemency and justice, and honesty, and
purity of the brothers Montero. I went out abruptly to seek Antonia.
I saw her in the gallery. As I opened the door, she extended to me her
clasped hands.

"'What are they doing in there?' she asked.

"'Talking,' I said, with my eyes looking into hers.

"'Yes, yes, but--'

"'Empty speeches,' I interrupted her. 'Hiding their fears behind
imbecile hopes. They are all great Parliamentarians there--on the
English model, as you know.' I was so furious that I could hardly speak.
She made a gesture of despair.

"Through the door I held a little ajar behind me, we heard Dun Juste's
measured mouthing monotone go on from phrase to phrase, like a sort of
awful and solemn madness.

"'After all, the Democratic aspirations have, perhaps, their legitimacy.
The ways of human progress are inscrutable, and if the fate of the
country is in the hand of Montero, we ought--'

"I crashed the door to on that; it was enough; it was too much. There
was never a beautiful face expressing more horror and despair than the
face of Antonia. I couldn't bear it; I seized her wrists.

"'Have they killed my father in there?' she asked.

"Her eyes blazed with indignation, but as I looked on, fascinated, the
light in them went out.

"'It is a surrender,' I said. And I remember I was shaking her wrists I
held apart in my hands. 'But it's more than talk. Your father told me to
go on in God's name.'

"My dear girl, there is that in Antonia which would make me believe in
the feasibility of anything. One look at her face is enough to set
my brain on fire. And yet I love her