arrier for the house sold him his suit, which was
certainly not remarkably new or cleanly.

After spending an hour in making up his disguise, touching his cheeks
with vermilion, dishevelling his hair, soiling his hands, etc., our
revolutionist went to the library, with his cask on his shoulder, and
stood before the looking-glass.

"I recognize myself!" he exclaimed, with such a look of anxiety that
Miguel and Maximina laughed till their sides ached.

IX.

Miguel's cousin Enrique had at last succeeded in embracing the divine
phantasm of glory in pursuit of which so many men run in vain. It was in
the plaza of Vallecas, on the day of Our Lady of Carmen. The
entertainment[24] had been organized at Madrid for the purpose of aiding
some unfortunates suffering from a flood in the province of Valencia,
and as he was one of the amateurs who liked to take part in sports of
this sort, he was gallantly invited to thrust the _banderillas_ into the
bull's shoulder--an honor which he declined.

The committee afterwards discovered the true inwardness of his not
accepting, and after making certain calculations and combinations, they
invited him once more to be the _estoqueador_,[25] and this time he did
not hesitate to accept, seeing that his dignity was saved. It was less
than a year since he had chosen the alternative.

And as we have already hinted, he had covered himself with glory, his
rivals with envy, and the respectable family to which he belonged with
honor, though its worthy head had a quite different idea of it.

After a battle he had the fortune to kill the bull with a superb lunge
at a half-run, wetting his fingers, and entering and leaving the ring
without a stain.

There was a perfect delirium of clapping, of waving cigars and hats; all
the bull-fighting amateurs vied with each other in embracing him; he was
carried triumphantly to his carriage, and sent back victorious to
Madrid: on the next day the newspapers, in their reviews of the
entertainment, raised him "to the very horns of the moon." _El Tabano_,
a most dignified paper, dedicated exclusively to the interests of
bull-fighting, declared that he showed _blood_ and _modesty_; and this
eulogium, in spite of its brutality, for some reason or other made him
stagger with delight.

He spent a feverish, wakeful night, though his soul was caressed by a
thousand brilliant visions. When morning came, he gave himself up to
cleaning his long knife, and whil