"
As he finished his tale Don Alonso made a most expressive grimace, and
left with his _Infiel_ Tower for the street. Aristas, Rebolledo
and Manuel applauded the old circus man's stories, and the apprentice
gymnast felt more determined than ever to continue practicing upon the
trapeze and the springboard, so that some day he might behold those
distant lands of which Don Alonso spoke.
A few weeks later there occurred one of the events that left upon
Manuel the deepest impression of his entire career. It was Sunday; the
boy went to his mother's place, and helped her, as usual, to wash the
dishes. Then came Petra's daughters, and they spent the whole
afternoon quarrelling over a skirt or a petticoat that the younger had
bought with the elder sister's money.
Manuel, bored by the chatter, invented some excuse and left the house.
The rain was coming down in bucketfuls; Manuel reached the Puerta del
Sol, entered the cafe de Levante and sat down near the window. The
people outside, dressed in their Sunday clothes, scampered by to
places of refuge in the wide doorways of the big square; the coaches
rumbled hurriedly on amidst the downpour; umbrellas came and went and
their black tops, glistening with rain, collided and intertwined like
a shoal of tortoises. Presently it cleared up and Manuel left the
cafe; it was still too early to return to the house; he crossed the
Plaza de Oriente and stopped on the Viaduct, watching from that point
the people strolling along Segovia street.
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