country. The storm is never so close, in our mountains, as when the sun
is at its brightest. She had promised to meet me again at Dorotea's, but
she didn't come.

"And Dorotea began telling me again that she had gone off to Portugal
about some gipsy business.

"As experience had already taught me how much of that I was to believe,
I went about looking for Carmen wherever I thought she might be, and
twenty times in every day I walked through the _Calle del Candilejo_.
One evening I was with Dorotea, whom I had almost tamed by giving her
a glass of anisette now and then, when Carmen walked in, followed by a
young man, a lieutenant in our regiment.

"'Get away at once,' she said to me in Basque. I stood there,
dumfounded, my heart full of rage.

"'What are you doing here?' said the lieutenant to me. 'Take yourself
off--get out of this.'

"I couldn't move a step. I felt paralyzed. The officer grew angry, and
seeing I did not go out, and had not even taken off my forage cap, he
caught me by the collar and shook me roughly. I don't know what I said
to him. He drew his sword, and I unsheathed mine. The old woman caught
hold of my arm, and the lieutenant gave me a wound on the forehead, of
which I still bear the scar. I made a step backward, and with one jerk
of my elbow I threw old Dorotea down. Then, as the lieutenant still
pressed me, I turned the point of my sword against his body and he
ran upon it. Then Carmen put out the lamp and told Dorotea, in her own
language, to take to flight. I fled into the street myself, and began