e soldiers with a firm
look. He was very pale and his lips were trembling or murmuring a
prayer. The haughtiness of his desperation seemed to have disappeared,
or at least to have weakened. A number of times he bent his head,
fixed his eyes on the ground, resigned to his suffering.

They took him to one side of the stone wall. Dona Consolacion followed
smiling. The unfortunate wretch glanced enviously toward the pile of
dead bodies, and a sigh escaped from his breast.

"Speak now!" said the directorcillo again. "They will certainly drown
you. At least, die without having suffered so much."

"When you come out of this, you will die," said a cuaderillero.

They took the gag out of his mouth and hung him by his feet. He had
to go down head first and remain under the water some time just like
a bucket, except that a man is left under the water a longer time.

The alferez went to look for a watch that he might count the minutes.

In the meantime, Tarsilo was hanging, his long hair waving in the
air and his eyes half closed.

"If you are Christians, if you have hearts," he begged, in a low voice,
"let me down rapidly and make my head strike against the wall that I
may die. God would reward such a good deed.... Perhaps some day you
will be in the same straits as I am now."

The alferez returned and with watch in hand witnessed the descent.

"Slowly, slowly!" cried Dona Consolacion following the poor fellow
with her eyes. "Be careful!"

The pole was being lowered slowly. Tarsilo rubbed against
the projecting stones and the dirty plants which grew in the
crevices. Then, the pole ceased to move. The alferez was counting
the seconds.

"Up!" he ordered dryly, at the end of a half minute.

The silvery harmony of the drops of water falling back into the well,
announced the return of the unfortunate man to the light. As the
weight on the end of the lever was heavy, he came up quickly. The
rough pieces of stone and pebbles, torn loose from the walls, fell
with splashes to the bottom.

His face and hair full of filthy mud, his body wet and dripping,
he appeared again in the sight of the silent crowd. The wind made
him shiver with cold.

"Do you want to make a declaration?" they asked him.

"Take care of my sister!" the unhappy one murmured, looking at the
cuaderillero, with supplication.

The bamboo pole creaked again, and again the condemned man
disappeared. Dona Consolacion observed that the water remained
still.