“It was some weeks later, when I had been placed as a night sentinel at one of the town gates that I saw Carmen.  I was put there to prevent smuggling; but Carmen persuaded me to let five of her friends pass in, and they were all well laden with English goods.  She told me I might come and see her next day at the same house I had visited before.

“Carmen had moods, like the weather in our country.  She would make appointments and not keep them, and at another time, would be full of affection.

“One evening when I had called on a friend of Carmen’s the gipsy entered the room, followed by a young man, a lieutenant in our regiment.

“He told me to decamp, and I said something sharp to him.  We soon drew our swords, and presently the point of mine entered his body.  Then Carmen extinguished the lamp, and, wounded though I was, we started running down the street.  ‘Great fool,’ she said.  ’You can do nothing but foolish things.  Besides, I told you I would bring you bad luck.’  She made me take off my uniform and put on a striped cloak, and this with a handkerchief over my head, enabled me to pass fairly well for a peasant.  Then she took me to a house at the end of a little lane, and she and another gipsy washed and dressed my wounds.  Next day Carmen pointed out to me the new career she destined me for.  I was to go to the coast and become a smuggler.  In truth it was the only one left me, now that I had incurred the punishment of death.  Besides, I believed I could make sure of her love.  Carmen introduced me to her people, and at first the freedom of the smuggler’s life pleased me better than the soldier’s life.  I saw Carmen often, and she showed more liking for me than ever; but, she would not admit that she was willing to be my wife.”

IV.—­The End of Don Jose’s Story

“One becomes a rogue without thinking, sir.  A pretty girl makes one lose one’s head, one fights for her, a misfortune happens, one is driven to the mountains, from smuggler one becomes robber before reflecting.

“Carmen often made me jealous, especially after she accepted me as her husband, and she warned me not to interfere with her freedom.  On my part I wanted to change my way of life, but when I spoke to her about quitting Spain and trying to live honestly in America, she laughed at me.

“‘We are not made for planting cabbages,’ she said; ’our destiny is to live at the expense of others.’  Then she told me of a fresh piece of smuggling on hand, and I let myself be persuaded to resume the wretched traffic.

“While I was in hiding at Granada, there were bullfights to which Carmen went.  When she returned, she spoke much of a very skilful picador, named Lucas.  She knew the name of his horse, and how much his embroidered jacket cost him.  I paid no heed to this, but began to grow alarmed when I heard that Carmen had been seen about with Lucas.  I asked her how and why she had made his acquaintance.