Part 53 (1/2)
”Then, till tomorrow!”
”You are going now?”
”Yes.”
”Goodnight, then.”
Caesar left his room and marched off to sleep.
IV. THE BOOKSELLER AND THE ANARCHISTS
The following day, very early in the morning, Alzugaray went to a livery-stable which they had directed him to at the hotel, and asked to hire a horse. They brought him a large, old one; he mounted, and crossed the town more slowly than if he had been on foot, and set out for Cidones.
On reaching that town, he left the horse at a blacksmith's and went up through the narrow lanes of Cidones, which are horribly long, dark, and steep.
Then he ascended to la Pena, the rock on which the Franciscan monastery stands; but was unable to obtain any fresh information about Father Martin and his friars. The people with whom he talked were not disposed to unbosom themselves, and he preferred not to insist, so as not to be suspected.
Afterwards he went down to Cidones again and returned to Castro Duro.
Caesar was still in bed. Alzugaray went into his room.
”Don't you intend to get up?” he asked him.
”No.”
”Don't you intend to eat, either?”
”Neither.”
”Are you sick?”
”No.”
”What is the matter with you? Laziness?”
”Something like that.”
Alzugaray ate alone, and after he had had coffee, he directed his steps to the bookstore of the Republican councilman, of whom Caesar had spoken to him. He found it in a corner of the Square; and it was at the same time a stationer's shop and a newsdealer's. Behind the counter were an old man and a lad.
Alzugaray went in. He bought various Madrid periodicals from the lad, and then addressing the old man, asked him:
”Haven't you some sort of a map of the province, or of the neighbourhood of Castro Duro?”
”No, sir, there isn't one.”
”Nor a guidebook, perhaps?”
”Nor that either. At the townhall we have a map of the town....”