value compared
with the triptich. The good humor into which this recollection put
Vincente resulted in his being anxious to do everything to gratify his
cousin.

"You want to speak with papa, do you? Now see here, he's engaged in
going through his gymnastic exercises; but I'll take you to him, at all
events."

"Gymnastic exercises?" exclaimed Miguel, in surprise.

"It was prescribed by the doctor because he had lost his appetite; do
you see? He did not eat a mouthful, and even now he takes very little.
He has been sallow and weak this two months, so that you would scarcely
know him."

On entering his uncle's stern and gloomy room, Miguel was, indeed,
surprised to see the change that had taken place in that excellent
gentleman's physique; the strange garb that he wore contributed in no
small degree to give him a sinister and terrible appearance: he wore
nothing except a gauze shirt, through which could be seen his lean and
bony frame; also full trousers of drilling, in which his shins could
scarcely be made out. His face, always broad and lean, seemed more
fleshless than ever; the yellowish complexion, the sad and glassy eyes,
and, as his razor never ceased to perform its devastating work, his
mustache had come to be only a slight speck beneath his nose.

His library had been turned into a gymnasium; there were parallel bars,
a few pairs of dumb-bells on the floor, and a number of iron rings
swinging from the ceiling.

When Miguel went in, his uncle was going through his evolutions on the
parallels; he had the opportunity of watching him at his ease, and it
pained him. Seeing the rapid and astonishing decline, he could not help
saying to himself:--

"It must be that my uncle has some grievous sorrow."

And as the old gentleman, absorbed in his painful task of walking on
his hands over the bars, did not perceive his presence, he said aloud:--

"Good afternoon, uncle."

Don Bernardo dropped to the floor, and gazing with bleared, vacant eyes,
replied:--

"_Hola!_ What brings you here?"

"Go ahead, uncle; don't let me interrupt you. How do you find yourself?"

"So, so. And your wife?"

"She is very well; go on, go on!"

Don Bernardo gave a jump, and again perched on the parallels.

"You can tell me what you want; I am listening."

Miguel looked at him a moment, and perceiving that the best thing to do
was to attack the business in hand directly, and without any beating
about the bush, he began to say: