Juanita la Larga: a Novel

Chapter 31

Chapter 31 M aking no noise, Don Paco reached the hut and saw that the door was locked with an inside latch. The light came out through an ugly little window on which, instead of panes, a dirty rag had been stretched as protection against rain and cold. With the obstruction of the rag, objects on the inside could not be seen, but Don Paco drew near and noticed three or four holes in the rag. He put an eye to the closest one, which was quite big, and what he saw through it, before reflecting and explaining it all, gave him a scare. He imagined that he was seeing Lucifer in person, although dressed as an Andalusian peasant, in a hat with a turned-up brim, long jacket, chaps, and leggings. The face of the person thus dressed was almost black, motionless, with a frightful and wide mouth and with enormous nostrils full of warts and in the shape of a parrot’s bill. Don Paco calmed down, however, on realizing that said face was one of the masks worn by those who are Jews in Villalegre’s processions . The masked individual kept silent, seated in a chair and leaning his elbows on an old and filthy pine table. In another chair across from him was another person in whom Don Paco instantly recognized Don Ramón, the Murcian shopkeeper from his town, the richest man after Don Andrés and the most inveterate chatterbox that at the time existed on our planet. Don Ramón was a little man, old and thin, but he had a lot of spirit and a lot of courage and was not easily intimidated. Don Paco saw that his hands were tied behind his back with cord, and deduced that he had been brought there and retained by 166 Juanita la Larga 167 force. The very words of the Murcian shopkeeper, who was so prodigal with them, soon confirmed Don Paco’s deduction. “Man or devil,” he said, “whoever you are, take pity on me and don’t torment me to no purpose. How was I going to imagine, on returning this afternoon from my country house to Villalegre, which is not even a full mile from here, that I would run into you and your partner, who were lying in ambush by the willow trees at Hondón brook, and that the two of you would bring me to this hut by force? I didn’t suspect that there were kidnappers nowadays, and I felt very safe. Believe me when I tell you that the gain you sought is already in your hands. Don’t try to come up with more. Greed will be your undoing. You two may kill me, but you’ll die too, garroted.” The masked individual persisted in his silence, and with the mention of the garrote he only responded with a snort, a kind of interjection that is used in those parts. Don Ramón continued: “I have no idea how you managed to learn that I had just sold my best wine to the dealers from Jerez and that I was carrying twelve thousand reales in my pocket. But, in any case, you already have the twelve thousand reales. Why aren’t you satisfied? With the horn inkwell that you brought in preparation, you’ve made me write to my wife so that she’ll pay two thousand duros if she doesn’t want me to be hanged.” “And we will hang you and quarter you unless she pays up,” said the man in the mask in an odd, disguised voice. “Well, you can go ahead and hang and quarter me already, without continuing to harass me, because before giving up the money my wife—and well do I know her!—will give up my life and the lives of all her relations, even though she loves us and would cry her eyes out over us afterwards. Listen, have you seen the tragedy Guzmán the Good?”1 1. Antonio Gil y Zárate wrote this historical play (Guzmán el Bueno, 1842) about the defense of Tarifa, a city at the southern tip of Spain in the province of Cádiz. The infante Don Juan, brother of King Sancho, was a traitor who held Guzmán’s son and threatened 168 Juanita la Larga The masked individual said neither yes nor no; he...