more about _La
Carmencita_, or she'll end by making you marry a widow with wooden
legs.'***

* _Me dicas vriarda de jorpoy, bus ne sino braco_.--A gipsy
proverb.

** The Saint, the Holy Virgin.

*** The gallows, which is the widow of the last man hanged
upon it.

"As she spoke, she drew back the bar that closed the door, and once we
were out in the street she wrapped her mantilla about her, and turned on
her heel.

"She spoke the truth. I should have done far better never to think of
her again. But after that day in the _Calle del Candilejo_ I couldn't
think of anything else. All day long I used to walk about, hoping I
might meet her. I sought news of her from the old hag, and from the
fried-fish seller. They both told me she had gone away to _Laloro_,
which is their name for Portugal. They probably said it by Carmen's
orders, but I soon found out they were lying. Some weeks after my day
in the _Calle del Candilejo_ I was on duty at one of the town gates. A
little way from the gate there was a breach in the wall. The masons were
working at it in the daytime, and at night a sentinel was posted on it,
to prevent smugglers from getting in. All through one day I saw Lillas
Pastia going backward and forward near the guard-room, and talking to
some of my comrades. They all knew him well, and his fried-fish and
fritters even better. He came up to me, and asked if I had any news of
Carmen.

"'No,' said I.

"'Well,' said he, 'you'll soon hear of her, old fellow.'

"He was not mistaken. That night I was posted to guard the breach in
the wall. As soon as the sergeant had disappeared I saw a woman coming
toward me. My heart told me it was Carmen. Still I shouted:

"'Keep off! Nobody can pass here!'

"'Now, don't be spiteful,' she said, making herself known to me.

"'What! you here, Carmen?'

"'Yes, _mi payllo_. Let us say few words, but wise ones. Would you
like to earn a douro? Some people will be coming with bundles. Let them
alone.'

"'No,' said I, 'I must not allow them through. These are my orders.'

"'Orders! orders! You didn't think about orders in the _Calle del
Candilejo_!'

"'Ah!' I cried, quite maddened by the very thought of that night. 'It
was well worth while to forget my orders for that! But I won't have any
smuggler's money!'

"'Well, if you won't have money, shall we go and dine together at old
Dorotea's?'

"'No,' said I, half choked by the effort it cost me. 'No,