he people now saw through it all. The women were impatient to spread
the news. As we left, _la Soberana_, humiliated and in tears, tried to
kneel before the doctor and kiss his hand. 'Ay, Don Antoni!... Don
Antoni!' She asked pardon for her insults; she despaired when she
thought of the village comments. What they would have to suffer now!...
On the following day the youths that sang as they arranged their nets
would invent new verses. The song of the toad! Her life would become
impossible!... But even more than this, the thought of _Carafosca_
terrified her. She knew very well what sort of brute that was. He would
kill poor Visanteta the first time she appeared on the street; and she
herself would meet the same fate for being her mother and not having
guarded her well. 'Ay, Don Antoni!' She begged him, upon her knees, to
see _Carafosca_. He, who was so good and who knew so much, could
convince the fellow with his reasoning, and make him swear that he would
not do the women any harm,--that he would forget them.

"The doctor received these entreaties with the same indifference as he
had received the threats, and he answered sharply. He would see about
it; it was a delicate affair. But once in the street, he shrugged his
shoulders with resignation. 'Let's go and see that animal.'

"We pulled him out of the tavern and the three of us began to walk along
the beach through the darkness. The fisherman seemed to be awed at
finding himself between two persons of such importance. Don Antonio
spoke to him of the indisputable superiority of men ever since the
earliest days of creation; of the scorn with which women should be
regarded because of their lack of seriousness; of their immense number
and the ease with which we could pick another if the one we had happened
to displease us... and at last, with brutal directness, told what had
happened.

"_Carafosca_ hesitated, as if he had not understood the doctor's words
very well. Little by little the certainty dawned upon his dense
comprehension. 'By God! By God!' And he scratched himself fearfully
under his cap, and brought his hands to his sash as if he were seeking
his redoubtable knife.

"The physician tried to console him. He must forget Visanteta; there
would be no sense or advantage in killing her. It wasn't worth while for
a splendid chap like him to go to prison for slaying a worthless
creature like her. The real culprit was that unknown laborer; but... and
she! And how e