IV
"GASPAR RUIZ had clambered up on the sill, and sat down there with hisfeet against the thickness of the wall and his knees slightly bent.The window was not quite broad enough for the length of his legs. Itappeared to my crestfallen perception that he meant to keep the windowall to himself. He seemed to be taking up a comfortable position. Nobodyinside dared to approach him now he could strike with his hands.
"'Por Dios!' I heard the sergeant muttering at my elbow, 'I shall shoothim through the head now, and get rid of that trouble. He is a condemnedman.'
"At that I looked at him angrily. 'The general has not confirmed thesentence,' I said--though I knew well in my heart that these were butvain words. The sentence required no confirmation. 'You have no right toshoot him unless he tries to escape,' I added firmly.
"'But sangre de Dios!' the sergeant yelled out, bringing his musket upto the shoulder, 'he is escaping now. Look!'
"But I, as if that Gaspar Ruiz had cast a spell upon me, struck themusket upward, and the bullet flew over the roofs somewhere. Thesergeant dashed his arm to the ground and stared. He might havecommanded the soldiers to fire, but he did not. And if he had he wouldnot have been obeyed, I think, just then.
"With his feet against the thickness of the wall, and his hairy handsgrasping the iron bar, Gaspar sat still. It was an attitude. Nothinghappened for a time. And suddenly it dawned upon us that he wasstraightening his bowed back and contracting his arms. His lips weretwisted into a snarl. Next thing we perceived was that the bar of forgediron was being bent slowly by the mightiness of his pull. The sunwas beating full upon his cramped, unquivering figure. A shower ofsweat-drops burst out of his forehead. Watching the bar grow crooked, Isaw a little blood ooze from under his finger-nails. Then he let go.For a moment he remained all huddled up, with a hanging head, lookingdrowsily into the upturned palms of his mighty hands. Indeed he seemedto have dozed off. Suddenly he flung himself backwards on the sill, andsetting the soles of his bare feet against the other middle bar, he bentthat one too, but in the opposite direction from the first.
"Such was his strength, which in this case relieved my painful feelings.And the man seemed to have done nothing. Except for the change ofposition in order to use his feet, which made us all start by itsswiftness, my recollection is that of immobility. But he had bent thebars wide apart. And now he could get out if he liked; but he droppedhis legs inwards; and looking over his shoulder beckoned to thesoldiers. 'Hand up the water,' he said. 'I will give them all a drink.'
"He was obeyed. For a moment I expected man and bucket to disappear,overwhelmed by the rush of eagerness; I thought they would pull him downwith their teeth. There was a rush, but holding the bucket on his lap herepulsed the assault of those wretches by the mere swinging of his feet.They flew backwards at every kick, yelling with pain; and the soldierslaughed, gazing at the window.
"They all laughed, holding their sides, except the sergeant, who wasgloomy and morose. He was afraid the prisoners would rise and breakout--which would have been a bad example. But there was no fear ofthat, and I stood myself before the window with my drawn sword. Whensufficiently tamed by the strength of Gaspar Ruiz, they came up one byone, stretching their necks and presenting their lips to the edge of thebucket which the strong man tilted towards them from his knees with anextraordinary air of charity, gentleness and compassion. That benevolentappearance was of course the effect of his care in not spilling thewater and of his attitude as he sat on the sill; for, if a man lingeredwith his lips glued to the rim of the bucket after Gaspar Ruiz had said'You have had enough,' there would be no tenderness or mercy in theshove of the foot which would send him groaning and doubled up farinto the interior of the prison, where he would knock down two or threeothers before he fell himself. They came up to him again and again;it looked as if they meant to drink the well dry before going to theirdeath; but the soldiers were so amused by Gaspar Ruiz's systematicproceedings that they carried the water up to the window cheerfully.
"When the adjutant came out after his siesta there was some trouble overthis affair, I can assure you. And the worst of it, that the generalwhom we expected never came to the castle that day."
The guests of General Santierra unanimously expressed their regret thatthe man of such strength and patience had not been saved.
"He was not saved by my interference," said the General. "The prisonerswere led to execution half an hour before sunset. Gaspar Ruiz, contraryto the sergeant's apprehensions, gave no trouble. There was no necessityto get a cavalry man with a lasso in order to subdue him, as if he werea wild bull of the campo. I believe he marched out with his arms freeamongst the others who were bound. I did not see. I was not there. I hadbeen put under arrest for interfering with the prisoner's guard. Aboutdusk, sitting dismally in my quarters, I heard three volleys fired, andthought that I should never hear of Gaspar Ruiz again. He fell with theothers. But we were to hear of him nevertheless, though the sergeantboasted that, as he lay on his face expiring or dead in the heap of theslain, he had slashed his neck with a sword. He had done this, he said,to make sure of ridding the world of a dangerous traitor.
"I confess to you, senores, that I thought of that strong man with asort of gratitude, and with some admiration. He had used his strengthhonourably. There dwelt, then, in his soul no fierceness correspondingto the vigour of his body."