of being marched off to the barracks.

"I am no soldier," I thought to myself. "If they insist, I shall run
away."

I went at once from the Alcaldia to the Ministry and called upon a
Guipuzcoan politician, as my father had previously advised me to do; but
the man was a political mastodon, puffed up with huge pretensions, who,
perhaps, might have been a stevedore in any other country. So he did
nothing. Finally, it occurred to me to go and see the Conde de
Romanones, who had just been appointed Alcalde del Centro, having
jurisdiction over the district.

When I entered his office, Romanones appeared to be in a jovial frame of
mind. He wore a flower in his button-hole. Two persons were with him,
one of whom was no other than the Secretary of the Board, my enemy.

I related what had happened to Romanones with great force. The Secretary
then answered.

"The young man is right," said the Count. "Bring me the roll of the
draft."

The roll was brought. Romanones took his pen and crossed my name off
altogether. Then he turned to me with a smile:

"Don't you care to be a soldier?"

"No, sir."