had wrangled for an hour I went off in a fury. For some time I wandered about the town, walking hither and thither like a madman. At last I went into a church, and getting into the darkest corner I could find, I cried hot tears. All at once I heard a voice.
“‘A dragoon in tears. I’ll make a philter of them!’
“I looked up. There was Carmen in front of me.
“‘Well, mi payllo, are you still angry with me?’ she said. ‘I must care for you in spite of myself, for since you left me I don’t know what has been the matter with me. Look you, it is I who ask you to come to the Calle del Candilejo, now!’
“So we made it up: but Carmen’s temper was like the weather in our country. The storm is never so close, in our mountains, as when the sun is at its brightest. She had promised to meet me again at Dorotea’s, but she didn’t come.
“And Dorotea began telling me again that she had gone off to Portugal about some gipsy business.
“As experience had already taught me how much of that I was to believe, I went about looking for Carmen wherever I thought she might be, and twenty times in every day I walked through the Calle del Candilejo. One evening I was with Dorotea, whom I had almost tamed by giving her a glass of anisette now and then, when Carmen walked in, followed by a young man, a lieutenant in our regiment.
“‘Get away at once,’ she said to me in Basque. I stood there, dumfounded, my heart full of rage.
“‘What are you doing here?’ said the lieutenant to me. ‘Take yourself off—get