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Updated: June 10, 2025
But when the waters have withdrawn, as at this moment, there remains between the two countries only a sort of lowland, uncertain and of changing color, where walk men with bare legs, where barks drag themselves, creeping. They were now in the middle of this lowland, Ramuntcho and his band, half dozing under the dawning light. The colors of things began to appear, out of the gray of night.
Ramuntcho, Arrochkoa and Florentino were to play against three celebrated ones of Spain; they were to practice that evening, limber their arms on the square of Etchezar, and Gracieuse, with other little girls of her age, had taken seats on the granite benches to look at them.
Ramuntcho would have kissed him with all his heart for the last farewell, and in this embrace of the brother of the beloved one, he would have shed doubtless good, hot tears which, for a moment at least, would have cured him a little. But no, Arrochkoa has become again the Arrochkoa of the bad days, the gambler without soul, that only bold things interest.
And people looked at the two little strangers, so attentive, in the first row, so pretty also with their elegant pink waists, and people said: "They are the sweethearts of the two good players." Then Gracieuse, who heard everything, felt proud of Ramuntcho. Noon. They had been playing for almost an hour.
And Ramuntcho thinks that it will be perhaps real, in a moment, that she will be perhaps there, at his side, very near, on that narrow seat, enveloped with him in the same travelling blanket, flying in the midst of night, to belong to him, at once and forever; and in thinking of this too much, he feels again a shudder and a dizziness
She, from her bed having recognized her son's step, has straightened up, all stiff, all white in the twilight: "Ramuntcho," she says, in a veiled and aged voice. She extends her arms to him and as soon as she holds him, enlaces and embraces him: "Ramuntcho!
For whenever these men of justice put their noses into anything, they seek for things that happened long ago, and the inquiry never ends " In his eyes, suddenly expressive, appeared crime and fear. And Ramuntcho looked with an increase of anxiety at this man, who was believed to be solidly established in the country with lands in the sunlight, and who accepted so easily the idea of running away.
And little by little, under the influence of the ancient melody, of the wind and of the solitude, Ramuntcho found himself as he was at the beginning of his walk, a simple Basque mountaineer, sixteen or seventeen years old, formed like a man, but retaining the ignorance and the candor of a little boy.
And Ramuntcho suddenly feels like throwing himself on his knees in front of her; his head on the hem of her veil, sobbing all the tears that stifle him; like begging for mercy, like begging for mercy also of that Mother Superior who has so soft an air; like telling both of them that this sweetheart of his childhood was his hope, his courage, his life, and that people must have a little pity, people must give her back to him, because, without her, there is no longer anything.
"Where shall we live, Gracieuse?" asked Ramuntcho one night. "At your house, I had thought." "Ah! yes, so thought I only I thought it would make you sad to be so far from the parish, from the church and the square " "Oh with you, I could find anything sad? "Then, we would send away those who live on the first floor and take the large room which opens on the road to Hasparitz "
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