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Updated: June 8, 2025
And there would be a bit left over for old age! Gloating over his good fortune, Pascualo quickened his lumbering pace as a corpulent sea-dog, and rubbed his hands with satisfaction. But in the darkness ahead of him a figure suddenly appeared, advancing slowly in his direction. Only a woman! Some beggar, probably, making the rounds of the fleet to pick up a spare fish here and there!
Besides, the moment the whole story had gone the rounds, Pascualo became the lion of the Valencian water-front. A stroke of genius, that break from the Columbretas in a full gale! The cutter put in there at the height of the storm and that was no child's play either but she had her trouble for her pains! The Rector stood quite aghast at his own good fortune.
What she had to say would hurt him terribly, and he must not hate her so for it. She had had her time of it too. She had suffered now till she could stand it no longer. She hated Tonet, and she hated that infamous Dolores! For her Pascualo was simply a comrade in misfortune. Dolores had been deceiving him. "Oh, it's not a matter of yesterday or day before.
Poor old Pascualo would have turned out better if he'd stuck to that business and not gone back to fishing! Well, how much did the Rector need? Quite frank now! as though he were talking to a father. If it had been a matter of fishing, not a penny. Hell of a trade for a fellow, that, where you killed yourself working and died poor as a rat.
There was Rosario reminding him that Tonet was his brother! Wasn't it just as monstrous for a brother to kill a brother as to betray him? One such case in the history of the world Cain, and what sort of a chap had Cain been? Not much, to judge by what don Santiago said of him! And then again, was Tonet really to blame? "No, Pascualo! You're to blame yourself, and nobody else.
Tio Pascualo rose before her memory, strong, young, handsome, as she had known him in the days of their courtship. And his departure from life became as bitterly sorrowful as if he had vanished but the day before. "My boy, my boy fill meu, fill meu!" she sobbed, throwing her arms about the sturdy neck of the Rector, who at that moment seemed to be the resurrection of his father's very self.
Pascualo had jumped down from the deck and gone to Dolores, his face wreathed in smiles at sight of her standing there with her apron caught up to hold a peck or more of silver coins that represented her cash sales. Fairly good for two days' work, eh! A few trips like that and they'd have a pretty pile! And there was a good chance for the luck to hold!
His arms began to gesticulate, and his voice rose and rose, till his words were audible yards away. "Is that you, Pascualo?" The call came from behind the curtains in Siñá Tona's stateroom, hoarse and halting, but affectionate withal. "Yes, ma, it's me. Just going down to the boat to see what's going on. I wouldn't get up, just yet, if I were you. Going to be bad weather!"
And he ceased to be at all impressed at the sermons of the patrolman, which he now rebutted by thumbing his nose and going off down the beach cavorting and turning handsprings. Meanwhile Tona was passing through a new honeymoon in the full maturity of life. In comparison, her marriage with Pascualo seemed like monotony itself.
By the time the pair had reached the bakery of Figuetes, Pascualo had lapsed into his normal taciturnity, and Roseta held the floor, dealing with the forewomen in the tobacco factory in terms that such cattle deserved. "Work the life out of you, they do! It was all I could do to keep myself from waiting outside and pulling the topknot of that wench as she came out!
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