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Updated: May 3, 2025
She seemed to be breathlessly counting those dry, dull strokes and those heartrending groans. It was Tarsilo's sister. Meanwhile, the scene in the hall continued. The wretched boy, overcome with pain, silently waited for his executioners to become weary. At last the panting soldier let his arm fall, and the alferez, pale with anger and astonishment, made a sign for them to untie him.
"He's thirsty," she commented with a laugh. The water again became still. This time the alferez did not give the signal for a minute and a half. Tarsilo's features were now no longer contracted. The half-raised lids left the whites of his eyes showing, from his mouth poured muddy water streaked with blood, but his body did not tremble in the chill breeze.
At a signal from the alferez, a guard armed with a rattan whip began his gruesome task. Tarsilo's whole body contracted, and a stifled, prolonged cry escaped from him in spite of the piece of cloth which covered his mouth. His head drooped and his clothes became stained with blood.
In the street, he saw a girl, leaning her back against the wall, rigid, immovable, listening attentively, looking into space, her marble-like hands extended along the old wall. The sun was shining full upon her. She was counting, it seemed without breathing, the sharp blows and listening to that heart-rending groan. She was Tarsilo's sister. In the meantime, the scene was continuing in the sala.
That filthy curtain closed from him the sight of the world. A minute passed. The Muse saw large bubbles of air come up to the surface of the water. "He is thirsty," said she, laughing. The water was again smooth. This time a minute and a half had passed when the alferez gave the signal. Tarsilo's features were no longer contracted. The half opened lids showed the white of his eyes.
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