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Updated: May 2, 2025
"He is a crafty fellow," said the alferez, speaking to the curate. "He wanted to flee, but had received a flesh wound." "What is your name?" asked the alferez, speaking to Tarsilo. "Tarsilo Alasigan." "What did Don Crisostomo promise you for attacking the cuartel?" "Don Crisostomo has never communicated with us." "Don't deny it! You wanted to surprise us for him!" "You are mistaken.
The wretched boy looked about him as if seeking something and noticed Doña Consolacion, at sight of whom he smiled sardonically. In surprise the bystanders followed his glance and saw the señora, who was lightly gnawing at her lips. "I've never seen an uglier woman!" exclaimed Tarsilo in the midst of a general silence.
Tarsilo remained silent and thoughtful. With the arm of his camisa, he wiped away the sweat which formed in drops on his forehead. "Brother," said Bruno, "I am decided, even if you are not. The lásak ought to win and we ought not to lose the opportunity. I want to bet on the next fight. What does it matter? Thus, we will avenge our father." "Wait!" said Tarsilo to him, and looked him in the eyes.
They took away the gag and hung him up by his feet, for he must go down head foremost and remain some time under the water, just as the bucket does, only that the man is left a longer time. While the alferez was gone to look for a watch to count the minutes, Tarsilo hung with his long hair streaming down and his eyes half closed.
"You need not meddle in our history," interrupted Tarsilo, the older. "That is a disgrace. If we did not have a sister, we would have been hanged long ago." "Hanged? They only hang cowards, or some one who has no money or protection. Certainly the mountains are near." "A hundred against twenty on the blanco," cried one as he passed the group.
The two then exchanged some words in secret and separated, apparently satisfied. "Pedro must have agreed. That's what it is to be decided," sighed Bruno. Tarsilo remained gloomy and thoughtful, wiping away with the cuff of his camisa the perspiration that ran down his forehead. "Brother," said Bruno, "I'm going to accept, if you don't decide.
The Muse turned pale. "You are going to whip me to death, alferez," he continued, "but to-night I will be avenged by your woman." "Gag him!" shouted the alferez, furious and trembling with rage. It seemed as though Tarsilo had wanted the gag, for when he had it in his mouth, his eyes gleamed with a ray of satisfaction. At a signal from the alferez a guard, armed with a whip, began his cruel task.
Doña Consolacion's body was bent forward, the muscles of her neck were rigid, her eyes riveted to the half open door. Between the soldiers came out Tarsilo, the brother of Bruno. He wore handcuffs. His torn clothes disclosed well-developed muscles. His eyes were fixed insolently on the alferez's wife.
Doña Consolacion a number of times applied the lighted end of her cigar to the bare legs of Tarsilo, but his body did not quiver. It put out the light. "He has asphyxiated himself," murmured a cuaderillero. "See how his tongue is turned, as if he wanted to swallow it." The other prisoner, trembling and perspiring, contemplated the scene. Like a madman he looked about him.
"He does not want to! If you could lend us something: you have already said that you knew us...." Lucas scratched his head, pulled down his camisa and replied: "Yes, I know you. You are Tarsilo and Bruno, both young and strong. I know that your brave father died from the result of the hundred lashes which the soldiers gave him. I know that you do not think of avenging him."
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