"On the ship you must give me something to do all the time. I'll do anything, anything. I'll climb up high and fix ropes; and I'll watch all night,--because, you know, I don't sleep well anyway. And, Captain Alvarado, on the ship you must pretend that you don't know me. Pretend that you hate me the most. So that you'll always give me things to do. I can't sit still and write at a table any more.--And don't tell the other men about me ... that is, about ..." "I hear you went into a burning house, Esteban, and pulled someone out." "Yes. I didn't get burned or anything. You know," cried Esteban, leaning across the table, "you're not allowed to kill yourself; you know you're not allowed. Everybody knows that. But if you jump into a burning house to save somebody, that wouldn't be killing yourself. And if you became a matador and the bull caught you that wouldn't be killing yourself. Only you mustn't put yourself in the bull's way on purpose. Did you ever notice that animals never kill themselves, even when they're sure to lose? They never jump into a river or anything, even when they're sure to lose. Some people say that horses run into bonfires. Is that true?" "No, I don't think that's true." "I don't think it's true. We had a dog once. Well, I mustn't think of that.--Captain Alvarado, do you know Madre María del Pilar?" "Yes." "I want to give her a present before I go away. Captain Alvarado, I want you to give me all my wages before I start--I won't need any money anywhere--and I want to buy her a present now. The present isn't from me only. She was ... was ..." Here Esteban wished to say his brother's name, but was unable to. Instead he continued in a lower voice: "She had a kind of a ... she had a serious loss, once. She said so. I don't know who it was, and I want to give her a present. Women can't bear that kind of a thing like we can." The Captain promised him that they would choose something in the morning. Esteban talked about it at great length. At last the Captain saw him slip under the table, and himself, rising up, went out into the square before the inn. He looked at the line of the Andes and at the streams of stars crowding forever across the sky. And there was that wraith hanging in mid-air and smiling at him, the wraith with the silvery voice that said for the thousandth time: "Don't be gone long. But I'll be a big girl when you get back." Then he went within and carried Esteban to his room and sat looking at him for a long while. The next morning he was waiting at the bottom of the stairs when Esteban appeared: "We're starting when you're ready," said the Captain. The strange glitter had returned to the boy's eyes. He blurted out: "No, I'm not coming. I'm not coming after all." "Aïe! Esteban! But you have promised me that you would come." "It's impossible. I can't come with you," and he turned back up the stairs. "Come here a moment, Esteban, just a moment." "I can't come with you. I can't leave Peru."