peseta and a half. And there are not even twenty men here yet with picks and spades. Just and merciful Heaven, what are the authorities of Saragossa thinking about! The double-wicked lamp will not be ruined. It is the best olive-oil burner in the world. We might find it over yonder, by lifting carefully the fragments of that corner room. Let them send workmen here, and see that they do it quickly. How can anyone expect me to leave this place? If I should go, or if I should sleep for a single instant, the thieves would come. Yes, they will come, and take away that piece of copper from Palma.”
The obstinacy of the miser was so persistent that I resolved to go without him, leaving him given over to his delirious anxiety. Doña Guedita now arrived, walking hastily. She brought a pick and spade, and a little basket in which I saw some provisions.
“Señor,” she said, sitting down tired and breathless, “here’s the pick and spade my nephew has given me. They will not need them any more, because they are not going to make any more fortifications. Here are some half-spoiled raisins and some crusts of bread.” The old woman ate hungrily; not so Candiola, who, despising the bread, seized the pick. Resolutely, as if his body were suddenly filled with new energy, he tried to unhinge the grating; working with eager activity, he said—
“If the authorities of Saragossa are not willing to do their duty by me, Doña Guedita, between you and me, we will do it all! You take the spade and get ready to move the fragments as I dig. Look out for the beams that are still smoking. Look out for the nails!”
I was trying to interpret the signs of intelligence made me by the housekeeper, when he turned to me, saying—
“Go to the devil! What business have you in my house? Get out of here! We understand you—you have come to see if you can pick up anything. There is nothing here. Everything is burned up.”