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WOLFF ESTATE, NEW YORK. - MANUFACTURED IN iEIOL UNITED STATES OF AMERICA OCT 24 '24 J ©C1A814353 CONTENTS Prologue: Juan Deserts the Seminary i PART ONE I A Sepulchral District—Transcendental Divaga¬ tions—Electricity and Tonsorial Artistry— Queer Types and Kindly Folk 27 II The Life Led by Manuel—The Dwarf’s Circle —Señor Canuto and His Phraseology 40 III The Two Brothers—Juan’s Story—Recollec¬ tions of Hunger and Bohemia 48 IV The Bust of La Salvadora—Impressions of Kiss —Bad News-—La Violeta—Life Is Not All Sorrow 60 V “The Pleasures of Venus”—A Poetic Restau¬ rant-Keeper—“Kill Her!”—Women Hate One Another—So Do Men 71 VI Manuel’s Vague Ambitions—The Women Rule —Roberto—The Printing-Shop is Opened 83 VII Love and Weakness—Fever and Swallows— The Christening of His Majesty Jag the First in a Printery 91 PART TWO I Game of Ninepins, Game of Ideas, Game of Men 103 CONTENTS II Rights — Law — Slavery — Cows — Negroes — Whites—Other Trifles I2i III There’s No Relying on Clocks or on the Sol¬ diery—Women Are Good, Even Those Who Say That They’re Bad—Drunkards and Dogs 131 IV The Englishman Wishes to Run Things—Races —Machines—Fine Ideas and Handsome Projects 143 V The Good Socialist Workingman—Jesus Has a Fine Time—What Use Are Corpses? 152 VI The Singing Frenchman—Protylus—How Ideas Come to Be Held—Symphony in Red 163 VII A Paradise in a Graveyard—It’s All One and the Same 178 VIII How They Caught El Bizco and Good Times Never Came—For the Unfortunate Good Times Never Come 185 IX The Woman in the Black Gown—Her Friends —The Dainty, Dainty Little Page 202 PART THREE I El Bolo’s Career—Danton, Danton . That Was the Man—Anarchism or Socialism? ... As You Like It 217 II A Night Stroll—The Votaries of Saint Dyna¬ mite—The Hospital of Cerro del Pimiento 236 III The Meeting at Barbieri—A Young Man in Frock-coat—The Carpentry of Noah’s Ark —Hurrah for Literature! 251 IV Homeless Folk—El Mangue and El Polaca— A Vender of Pea-Shooters—A Gipsy—El CONTENTS Corbata—Saint Tecla and His Wife—La Filipina—The Hidden Treasure 271 V Sociological Snobism—Intellectual Anarchists— Smoke 281 VI Childish Fears—Noblemen—The Man of the Puerta del Sol—The Passalacqua Mystery 292 VII Roberto Again—The Struggle for Life—The Englishman’s Gift—Love 313 VIII The Coronation—The Women Responsible for the High Price of Beans—Señor Canuto Meets His Finish 326 IX Night—The Crows—Dawn—All’s Well at Last—The Libertarian Speaks 336 PROLOGUE Juan Deserts the Seminary HE two boys had gone for a stroll through the outskirts of the town. On the way back they had sat down upon a stone wall by the road and at long intervals exchanged a casual remark. One was a tall, strong youth with grey eyes and a jovial expression; the other was stunted, weakly, his face spotted with rash, his look sullen and some¬ what gloomy. Both, in their black clothes—the one still beard¬ less, the other clean-shaven—looked like theological students. The taller was carving with his penknife various designs and ornaments in the bark of a twig; the other, his hands on his knees, in a melancholy pose, half absorbed and half absent-minded, sat con¬ templating the landscape. It was an autumn day, damp and dreary. In the distance, squatting upon a hill, one could make out the village with its blackish cottages and its towers blacker still. Into the sky, which was as grey as a sheet of unpolished steel, thin spirals of smoke rose languidly from the chimneys of the town. The air was silent; the river, hidden behind the woods, mur¬ mured indistinctly amidst the solitude. 2 RED DAWN There was a tinkling of sheep and cattle-bells and, farther off, the pealing of a church-bell. Soon the piercing whistle of the locomotive rent the air; then white clouds of smoke were visible among the trees, soon dissolving into a thin mist. “Let’s be going,” suggested the taller of the youths. “Come along,” replied the other. They rose from the wall on which they had been sitting and set out in the direction of the town. A filmy, melancholy haze began to settle upon the country-side. The cart-road, like a violet ribbon spotted by the yellow and red of the dead leaves, wound in and out among the tall trees that had been stripped bare by autumn, until its vast curve was lost to sight in the distance. The gusts of wind shook the dry leaves off the branches and sent them scudding along the road. “Morning after next we’ll be back there again,” said the well-built youth in a merry voice. “Who knows?” queried his companion. “What do you mean—who knows? I know, and so do you.” “You may know that you’re going back. As for me, I know I’m not.” “You’re not?” “No.” “And why not?” “Because I’ve made up my mind not to become a priest. The y°uth dropped the stick he had been carv¬ ing and stared at his friend in amazement. JUAN DESERTS 3 “Why, Juan! You’re crazy!” “No. I’m not crazy, Martin.” “Don’t you intend to return to the seminary?” “No.” “What’ll you do, then?” “Anything. Anything, except become a priest. I haven’t the vocation.” “Listen to him! Vocation! Vocation! I haven’t heard the call myself, either.” “The fact is, I don’t believe in anything.” The jovial young man shrugged his shoulders ingenuously. “And do you suppose Father Pulpón believes in anything?” “Father Pulpón’s a bandit, an impostor,” re¬ torted the shorter, vehemently. “I don’t want to deceive people, as he does.” “But a man’s got to live, my boy. If I had money, would I be studying for the priesthood? Not a bit of it. I’d go off to the country and live a rustic life, tilling the soil with my own oxen, as Horace says: Paterna rura bobis, exercet suis. But I haven’t a farthing, and my mother and brothers are waiting for me to finish my studies. So what am I going to do? Just what you’ll do, too.” “No, I tell you. No. I’ve made up my mind once and for all, unshakably, never to go back to the seminary.” “And how are you going to live?” “I don’t know. The world is big.” “It’s a childish notion. You’re well fixed; you 4 RED DAWN have a fellowship in the seminary; you have no family. The professors have been kind to you . you can get your doctor’s degree . you can preach . become a canon . perhaps even a bishop.” “Even if they promised to make me Pope, I would not return to the seminary.” “But why?” “Because I don’t believe, because I don’t believe now and because I never will again.” Juan was silent and his companion made no reply; they continued walking, side by side.