The maltreated Patillitas arose, hurled some insolence at the General, and threw himself upon him with his fists clenched; the floggers started to seize him, but the General said, “Leave him to me.” And, with the greatest calmness, he allowed him to deal his inoffensive blow, and, then, seizing his wrist, gave it such a wrench that the poor fellow suffered more than from the beating, and, notwithstanding all his efforts to the contrary, fell upon his knees before his conqueror, howling with pain. “Listen well, jackanapes,” said the General, without loosening his hold, “get away from here at once; and, if you prefer the least complaint or cause the least scandal, I will put you into jail and afterwards send you into the army as a vagabond and mischief-maker.” He loosed his prisoner who rose uttering suffocated groans and muttering inarticulate insolences. Limping, and with his dress disordered, he started to walk away; he took his hat, which one of the floggers, at a signal from the General, handed him. Pablo followed him and at reaching the hall door gave him a kick behind, saying with a hoarse laugh: “There! take your deserts, you!” “Now,” said the General, addressing Mercedes, who, huddled on the sofa, with her kerchief thrown over her head and covering her face, was sobbing violently, “indicate what you wish to take with you and get out into the street.” “Keep it all, horrible old man, monster without heart or entrails of pity,” said the unhappy woman, drying her eyes; and, arranging her dress as best she could and wrapping up her head, she left. When she had disappeared, the General, as pleased as if he had consummated some great act of justice, dismissed the floggers, after paying them; then, he went out onto the street with a lofty air, and, smoking his ever-present cigar, closed the gate of the court, put the key into his pocket, and walked away. * * * * * The Chango did not pronounce this long discourse at one breath, but interrupted himself from time to time to sip coffee or to ask Pacotillas incident questions, which he answered in his usual laconic style. He expressed himself somewhat more upon his matrimonial troubles and the faults of his wife’s parents. Then, changing his tone, he said: “Now I have tired you in speaking of myself and my affairs; now you must reciprocate, as a good friend, and tell me all about yourself.” “I can do that in a few words: I am slowly continuing my course of study and with more or less of difficulty and labor gain my bread.” “Spartan! You do wrong not to confide in me. Am I to understand that you desire nothing? that you do not care to better your condition?” “I do not say so; I desire many things; I desire to escape from poverty; but, I am content with my situation.” “What a fool you are! I could do much for you, because I love you well, and I would willingly offer you more than one chance of improving your condition.”