the possession of which was very important to her.  We had a violent quarrel, and I struck her.  She turned pale and began to cry.  It was the first time I had ever seen her cry, and it affected me in the most painful manner.  I begged her to forgive me, but she sulked with me for a whole day, and when I started back to Montilla she wouldn’t kiss me.  My heart was still very sore, when, three days later, she joined me with a smiling face and as merry as a lark.  Everything was forgotten, and we were like a pair of honeymoon lovers.  Just as we were parting she said, ’There’s a fete at Cordova; I shall go and see it, and then I shall know what people will be coming away with money, and I can warn you.’

“I let her go.  When I was alone I thought about the fete, and about the change in Carmen’s temper.  ‘She must have avenged herself already,’ said I to myself, ‘since she was the first to make our quarrel up.’  A peasant told me there was to be bull-fighting at Cordova.  Then my blood began to boil, and I went off like a madman straight to the bull-ring.  I had Lucas pointed out to me, and on the bench, just beside the barrier, I recognised Carmen.  One glance at her was enough to turn my suspicion into certainty.  When the first bull appeared Lucas began, as I had expected to play the agreeable; he snatched the cockade off the bull and presented it to Carmen, who put it in her hair at once.*

* La divisa.  A knot of ribbon, the colour of which indicates the pasturage from which each bull comes.  This knot of ribbon is fastened into the bull’s hide with a sort of hook, and it is considered the very height of gallantry to snatch it off the living beast and present it to a woman.

“The bull avenged me.  Lucas was knocked down, with his horse on his chest, and the bull on top of both of them.  I looked for Carmen, she had disappeared from her place already.  I couldn’t get out of mine, and I was obliged to wait until the bull-fight was over.  Then I went off to that house you already know, and waited there quietly all that evening and part of the night.  Toward two o’clock in the morning Carmen came back, and was rather surprised to see me.

“‘Come with me,’ said I.

“‘Very well,’ said she, ‘let’s be off.’

“I went and got my horse, and took her up behind me, and we travelled all the rest of the night without saying a word to each other.  When daylight came we stopped at a lonely inn, not far from a hermitage.  There I said to Carmen: 

“’Listen—­I forget everything, I won’t mention anything to you.  But swear one thing to me—­that you’ll come with me to America, and live there quietly!’

“‘No,’ said she, in a sulky voice, ’I won’t go to America—­I am very well here.’

“’That’s because you’re near Lucas.  But be very sure that even if he gets well now, he won’t make old bones.  And, indeed, why should I quarrel with him?  I’m tired of killing all your lovers; I’ll kill you this time.’