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Updated: June 13, 2025
Then, they sat at table without speaking, the mother and the son: she, the silent Franchita, absent minded, with tears shining in her eyes; he, worried also, but in a different manner, by the thought of that uncle living in adventures over there.
As for Franchita, who never mingles in the Sunday festivals, she takes the path to her house, silent and haughty, after a smile to her son, whom she will not see again until to-night after the dances have come to an end.
I said: "'The old people are dead, the elder brother was killed in smuggling, the second has disappeared in America; there remain only Franchita and her son, Ramuntcho, a handsome young fellow who must be about eighteen years old today. "He was thinking deeply while he was listening to me. "'Well, he said at last, 'since you are going back there, you will say good-day to them for Ignacio.
And he was going down quickly, through valleys soon darkened, toward the lowland where the railway train passes At twilight, Franchita was returning from escorting her son and was trying to regain her habitual face, her air of haughty indifference, to pass through the village.
Franchita, as every evening, looked long at her son, looked at him embellishing and growing, taking more and more an air of decision and of force, as his brown mustache was more and more marked above his fresh lips.
Something new, some sudden revelation must have impelled her to take this attitude of aggressive defiance, this expression of provoking irony, and Franchita then stopped, she also, while this phrase, almost involuntary, came through her set teeth: "What is the matter with that woman? Why does she look at me so " "He will not come to-night, the lover, will he?" responded the enemy.
"At least, my poor Franchita, my daughter, are you in a country where the men are pious and go to church regularly?
Then, as soon as she was near him, in the nocturnal shade of the trees, he put his arm around her waist and announced to her, brusquely, the great piece of news which, since the morning, troubled his young head and that of Franchita, his mother. "Uncle Ignacio has written." "True? Uncle Ignacio!"
And it happened to him at times to rise abruptly, to stretch himself in the manner of a cat, she said, as formerly at Erribiague when he felt a dangerous thrill and a more imperious temptation to leave life with her in a moment of ineffable death Franchita, however, was astonished by the unexplained attitude of her son, who, apparently, never saw Gracieuse and yet never talked of her.
"And after offering a drink to me he went away " Franchita had risen, trembling and paler than ever. Ignacio, the most adventurous in the family, her brother who had disappeared for ten years without sending any news ! How was he? What face? Dressed how? Did he seem happy, at least, or was he poorly dressed?
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