oment a powerful temptation assailed the young lad's constant
soul. It occurred to him that perhaps there was no reason for him to
commit suicide; that it would be better to let things run their course;
that the world had many revolutions to make, and he was too young to
deprive himself of existence. If Julita had run away, that was her own
affair: to kill himself was a serious, a very serious matter!

Still his bravery, which had never yet played him false, was able to
conquer this horrible temptation. "No," he said to himself, "I cannot
live honorably any longer. All those who were acquainted with these
relations of mine would have the right to laugh at me. And Jacobo was
not born that any one should laugh at him!"

He leaned back, placed his left elbow on the back of the bench, with his
head poetically resting on his hand. With his right hand he aimed his
revolver at his temple and fired.

Either because his hand trembled a little (a suspicion which would not
amount to anything if it were not regarding this invincible youth of
indomitable courage), or because the pistol did not shoot quite
accurately, at all events Utrilla fell, badly wounded, but not killed.
He was taken to the hospital,[61] and thence home. His condition was
very serious.

When Miguel arrived from Lisbon three days after this tragic event, he
immediately went to see him. He was deeply and painfully impressed. The
bullet had cut the optic nerve, and the unhappy boy was hopelessly
blind. The consultation of doctors had not given a favorable verdict. As
the ball was still in the head, very near the brain, they judged that it
was impossible for him to live very long. Any movement might bring with
it instant death.

But the strange and terrible part of the affair was, that the hapless
lad, already blind, lying in his bed suffering tremendous and unceasing
anguish, did not want to die. With lamentable cries, which tore the
heart and brought tears from all who were present, he begged his father
and brothers to _make_ him live--to live under any circumstances, even
though he should be blind.

It was impossible. In the course of twelve days that intrepid and
unfortunate young man had passed away. Miguel was with him till the very
last.

XXVIII.

By the advice of all, it was determined that _la brigadiera_ and her
daughter should leave Madrid and go to live at the Astillero of
Santander. It was the only place, as they already had a house re