rengthened from time to time
by a chance peseta. As was to be expected, the ex-cadet resolutely
refused to believe it. But when he found the evidence overwhelming, he
stood like a statue--not a Greek one, however; his nostrils dropped, and
his dull, myoptic eyes expressed absolutely nothing except imbecility:
his Adam's apple stood out in a manner truly monstrous.

After the first shock was past, Utrilla considered what was befitting
for him to do in this most extraordinary juncture. He thought of
starting after the fugitives, overtaking them, and killing the seducer
with one stab; but above and beyond the great difficulty of overtaking
them, in what character should he present himself before them, being
neither brother nor husband of the stolen damsel. This project having
been rejected, it came to him clear as the day that the only thing left
worthy of such a misfortune was suicide. After racking his brains for a
whole day he found no other adequate solution.

Jacobo Utrilla, with that marvellous perspicacity with which he was
endowed in these delicate matters pertaining to honor, made up his mind
that the world would never forgive him unless he put an end to his
existence on this occasion. And as a man who valued his dignity above
all things, he resolved to sacrifice on this altar his own life, so
sweet to all created things.

Melancholy night that which preceded this tragic event! Utrilla was
perfectly well aware of what he had to do in such a situation as this;
without any trouble at all, he could have written a _Handbook of
Suicide_. Thus he spent the time till dawn in writing letters and
drinking black coffee.

One of them was to his father, asking his pardon, but, at the same time,
making him to see by weighty reasons that if he had acted in any other
way, he would have dishonored the noble name that he bore; another, to
Julia, very dignified, very courteous, very generous; the only favor
that he asked was that sometimes she should place a flower on his tomb;
the last was, in fact, to the judge of the police, giving him to
understand "that no one was to blame for his death," etc.

Having scrupulously fulfilled those lofty duties, he washed his face and
hands, and dressed with all care, and asked for chocolate. Dona
Adelaida, who always arose at peep of day, gave it to him, though she
was not a little surprised to see him so early in the morning dressed in
such elegant style.

"Jacobito, why have you dresse