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Updated: June 26, 2025
"To buy a house for nothing, sell his consignment of galvanized iron well, get into partnership with a Simoun, and marry his son to a rich heiress just say if those aren't strokes of luck that all honorable men don't have!" "If you only knew whence came that luck of Señor Pelaez's!" another responded, in a tone which indicated that the speaker did know.
To all the remedies suggested Simoun responded with a sarcastic and unfeeling exclamation about nonsense, until one of them in exasperation asked him for his opinion. "My opinion?" he retorted. "Study how other nations prosper, and then do as they do." "And why do they prosper, Señor Simoun?" Simoun replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
During the morning Simoun had not left his house, busied as he was in packing his arms and his jewels. His fabulous wealth was already locked up in the big steel chest with its canvas cover, there remaining only a few cases containing bracelets and pins, doubtless gifts that he meant to make.
Perhaps that wonderful bridge was built in the same way. Now tell me, did these people rebel?" "The fact is they have rebelled before," replied the Dominican, "and ab actu ad posse valet illatio!" "No, no, nothing of the kind," continued Simoun, starting down a hatchway to the cabin. "What's said, is said! And you, Padre Sibyla, don't talk either Latin or nonsense.
"Señor Simoun, when our people is unprepared, when it enters the fight through fraud and force, without a clear understanding of what it is doing, the wisest attempts will fail, and better that they do fail, since why commit the wife to the husband if he does not sufficiently love her, if he is not ready to die for her?"
Fuming, and disregarding the excuses of Padre Irene, who tried to explain while he rubbed the tip of his beak in order to conceal his sly smile, he went into the billiardroom. "Padre Fernandez, would you like to take a hand?" asked Fray Sibyla. "I'm a very poor player," replied the friar with a grimace. "Then get Simoun," said the General. "Eh, Simoun! Eh, Mister, won't you try a hand?"
Then came a suspicion: that afternoon, upon leaving the prison, he had proceeded to the former house of Capitan Tiago to get his few personal effects and had found it transformed, prepared for a fiesta the wedding of Juanito Pelaez! Simoun had spoken of a fiesta.
At that moment there appeared the face of Placido Penitente, who was accompanied by the pyrotechnician that we saw receiving orders from Simoun. The newcomers were surrounded and importuned for news. "I haven't been able to talk with the prisoners," explained Placido. "There are some thirty of them." "Be on your guard," cautioned the pyrotechnician, exchanging a knowing look with Placido.
"Like the government!" again interrupted Simoun. "Several nights ago he awoke in the dark and thought that he had gone blind. He raised a disturbance, lamenting and scolding me, saying that I had put his eyes out. When I entered his room with a light he mistook me for Padre Irene and called me his saviour." "Like the government, exactly!"
"T-that V-victorina!" Don Tiburcio had stammered. "S-she's c-capable of having me s-shot!" Padre Florentino was unable to reassure him. Vainly he pointed out to him that the word cojera should have read cogerá, and that the hidden Spaniard could not be Don Tiburcio, but the jeweler Simoun, who two days before had arrived, wounded and a fugitive, begging for shelter.
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