give his brother sufficient for two days' maintenance; he wished to
work, not to be a heavy charge on him.

Wooden Staff was softened.

"You idiot, have I asked anything of you? Do I want anything else but
that you should live quietly and get better?"

But, as though he wished to acknowledge this exertion on his brother's
part by something which would please him, when he returned to the
Claverias he dropped his usual sullen face, and spoke to his daughter
during the meal.

Towards evening the Claverias were quite deserted. Don Antolin hurried
down with his tickets, rejoicing in the knowledge that many strangers
were waiting for him. The Tato and the bell-ringer had slipped
furtively down the tower stairs, dressed in their best clothes; they
were going to the bull-fight. Sagrario obliged to be idle in order to
keep the feast day holy, had gone to the shoemaker's house, and while
he was showing the giants to the servants and soldiers of the academy,
and the peasants from the country, Luna's niece helped to mend the
clothes for the poor woman crushed by poverty and the superabundance
of children.

When the Chapel-master and the Wooden Staff went down to the choir,
Gabriel went out into the cloister. He could only see there a cadet
who was walking up and down, with his hand on the pommel of his sword,
holding it horizontally like the fiery tizonas[1] of former days. Luna
recognised him by the full pantaloons and the wasplike waist, which
made the Tato declare that this particular cadet wore stays--it was
Juanito the cardinal's nephew. He often walked in the cloister, hoping
for an opportunity to talk with Leocadia, the beautiful daughter of
the Virgin's sacristan. From the parents he had nothing to fear, but
the future warrior had a certain dread of Tomasa, as the old lady
looked on these visits with an evil eye, and threatened to make them
known to his uncle the Cardinal.

[Footnote 1: _Tizona_--name of the Cid's sword.]

Gabriel had often spoken to the cadet, for when the youth met him
in the cloister he always stopped to speak, endeavouring by the
platitudes of his conversation to justify his presence in the
Claverias; but Luna was surprised to meet him there on a festival
afternoon.

"Are you not going to the bull-fight?" he inquired. "I thought
everyone from the academy would be in the Plaza."

Juanito smiled, caressing his moustache; it was his favourite gesture,
as it raised his arm, giving him the satis