with his arms free amongst the others who were bound. I did not see. I
was not there. I had been put under arrest for interfering with the
prisoner's guard. About dusk, sitting dismally in my quarters, I heard
three volleys fired, and thought that I should never hear of Gaspar
Ruiz again. He fell with the others. But we were to hear of him
nevertheless, though the sergeant boasted that, as he lay on his face
expiring or dead in the heap of the slain, 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 a
sort of gratitude, and with some admiration. He had used his strength
honourably. There dwelt, then, in his soul no fierceness corresponding
to the vigour of his body."




V

GASPAR RUIZ, who could with ease bend apart the heavy iron bars of the
prison, was led out with others to summary execution. "Every bullet
has its billet," runs the proverb. All the merit of proverbs consists
in the concise and picturesque expression. In the surprise of our
minds is found their persuasiveness. In other words, we are struck and
convinced by the shock.

What surprises us is the form, not the substance. Proverbs are art--
cheap art. As a general rule they are not true; unless indeed they
happen to be mere platitudes, as for instance the proverb, "Half a