Part 53 (2/2)
”Only of the part built up?”
”Yes.”
”Then it would do me no good.”
”You want a map for making excursions, eh?”
”That's it. Yes.”
”Well, there is none. We are very much behind the times.”
”Yes, that's true. It wouldn't cost very much, and it would be useful for ever, both to the people here and to strangers.”
”Just tell that to our town government!” exclaimed the old bookseller.
”Whatever is not for the advantage of the rich and the clerical element, there is no hope of.”
”Those gentlemen have a great deal of influence here?” asked Alzugaray.
”Uf! Enormous. More every day.”
”But there don't appear to be many convents.”
”No, there are not many convents; but there is one that counts for a hundred, and that is the one at Cidones.”
”Why is that?”
”Because it has a wild beast for a prior. Father Martin Lafuerza. He is famous all through this region. And he is a man of talent, there's no denying it, but despotic and exigent. He is into everything, catechizes the women, dominates the men. There is no way to fight against him. Here am I with this bookshop, and I have my pension as a lieutenant, which gives me enough to live very meanly, and with what little I get out of the periodicals I sc.r.a.pe along. Besides, I am a Republican and very liberal, and I like propaganda. If I didn't, I should have left all this long ago, because they have waged war to the death on me, an infamous sort of war which a person that lives in Madrid cannot understand; calumnies that come from no one knows where, atrocious accusations, everything....”
Alzugaray stared at the bookseller's grey eyes, which were extraordinarily bright. The old man was tall, stooped, grizzled, with a prominent nose and a beard trimmed to a point.
”But you have stuck firmly to your post,” said Alzugaray.
”Having been a soldier must do something for a man,” replied the bookseller. ”He learns not to draw back in the face of danger. And this is my life. Now I am a councillor and I work at the town hall as much as I can, even though I know I shall accomplish nothing. Grafting goes on before my face, I know it exists, and yet it is impossible to find it.
Six months ago I informed the judge of irregularities committed in a Sisters' Asylum, things I had proof of.... The judge laid my information on the table, and things went on as if nothing had happened.”
”Spain is in a bad way. It is a pity!” exclaimed Alzugaray.
”You people in Madrid, and I don't say this to irritate you, do not understand what goes on in the small towns.”
”My dear man, I have never taken any part in political affairs.”
”Well, I think that everybody ought to take part in politics, because it is for the general interest.”
At this moment two persons entered the bookshop. Alzugaray was going to leave, but the bookseller said to him:
<script>