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"Why did he not throw it to Jovita?" she said, and with a cruel, careless little movement she swept the devisa from her knee; it fell, and she set her foot upon it. "She has trodden upon it," said old Jovita. "She has done it for pride, and to show herself above others. She is ready for the devil. Some one should beat her." "It was the devisa," gasped José. "Sebastiano." Pepita left her seat.
It was the devisa she had stolen from Jovita, and which had not been thrown away at all. In the daytime it was hidden in the bosom of her dress; at night it hung by a cord and her hand held it. By this time a sort of terror had mingled itself with her passion of anger and pain, and she lay trembling because she was saying to herself again and again: "I am like Sarita! I am like Sarita!"
It was the women who said this, and who saw the richness of his dress, the colors of his devisa, the close curl of his crisp hair, the grace of his movement. The men saw his superb limbs, his firm step, his quick glance, his bright sword. "Come, little slayer of bulls," they shouted, "and show us what you would have taught the people of America."
She looked like one dead three days; and Sebastiano there is a man for you! tore the devisa from his shoulder and dropped it at her feet; and she snatched it up all wet with his blood and thrust it in her breast, and dropped like a stone. It is said that he loved her, and she had a devil of a temper and treated him badly.
It seemed as if something strange must have happened to her. The crimson had leaped to her cheeks, and her eyes were ablaze. "What is it to me, his devisa?" she said. "I do not want it. I will not have it. Let him throw a thousand, and I will tread upon them all, one after the other. Let it lie in the dirt. Let him give it to those others, those women who want it and him."
Pepita showed all her little gleaming teeth, and then put the stem of a rose between them and held it there like a cigarette as she looked under her eyelashes at the people. The rose was not as red as her scornful little mouth. "He was always kind to her when he saw her," continued Manuel. "Once he gave her his devisa. When she died she held it in her hand and would not let it go.
Some day you will not cast the devisa under your feet. You will take it and hide it in your breast. It will not be mine, but some other man's who loves you less. I loved you, I was mad for you; but it shall cease. It is better to think only of the bulls than to play the fool for a woman who has no love in her heart. You are pretty, but that is not everything.
"It is the devisa!" exclaimed Isabella, in an awestruck tone. "It is his devisa," cried José "his devisa, Pepita. He has thrown it to you yourself Sebastiano." The next moment he was struck dumb with amazement. Pepita sat upright and broke into a little laugh. She lightly waved her fan.
I said I could force you to remain on earth. I love you I love you. It has all happened, that which you said would happen; and when the devisa fell at my feet I hid it in my breast with the other which was there before. And because I love you so, you cannot die. I will do anything you say I must do. I am Pepita, and I give myself to you. I would give my blood and my life and my soul for you.
"What has happened?" he asked. "She has thrown away the devisa, which I had saved," answered Jovita. "I laid it away, and she has taken it. What harm did it do her that it should lie out of her sight in peace?" "Did you do that?" José said to Pepita. "Was it meant for her?" said Pepita. "I told you he ought to have thrown it to her and not to me."
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