The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1892-03-02
THE FATE OF RAMON.

And now Ramon Medrano was
ruined man. The cloud of misfortune
had burst upon him at time when he
thought it was about to pass away. 1t
was the fault of those rascally, long
tongued Americans with their peep
ing ways and their vile inquisitiveness.
For half score of years he had lived
in the old Spanish town of Logrono
and had been the landlord of the
Posada Huespedes Oriental Now he
looked back and saw all of his work
swept away. Every duro that he had
would go, too. for who was there who
would come to eat and drink with him
when they heard this story? Who
would want to sleep in the rooms
which were likely to be haunted. or
who would even want to stand in front
of a house honeycombed with unknown
holes, like rabbits burrow, and
where had been found pair of grin
ming skeletons?
Caramba! Why couldn't these for
eigners have gone to some other place.
or in coming to him at least have
tended to their own business?
But the damage was done. There
would be no more business for the
posada. Might as well close the door
now, go away and let the guardia
civile have the whole place to them
selves. to root and dig about in like
hogs in a new pen. And such fine
place to leave, with the walls white
washed only month ago and every
thing fixed up so it was fit for a don
and his suite. Why hadn't the Amer
icanos stayed away or gone off and
lost themselves in the desert?
Ramon couldn't forget it. It was a
fine night and the moon came up
early. The two Americans had sat on
the balcony until it was quite late.
There hadn't been much drinking in
the front room, where he kept the two
rows of shiny black bottles so he had
gone to the back room with Dolores,
his wife, and Pepe, the boy. Pepe was
at his guitar, playing softly, as if he
were thinking of the girl down the
street to whom his father had prom
ised him in marriage. Once in a
great while passing wagon wheels
creaked outside and broke in upon the
low, soft music of the guitar. Ramon
was smoking cigarette, freshly
Il
of the pink faced Madonna which hung
on the wall. while his left foot tapped
the tiled floor as he unconsciouslv
kept time to the fandango. He re-
membered all of these things so plainly
now.
Have the Americans gone to bed
yet, think you?" said Dolores, as she
poured out a tumblerful of fragrant
wine for him.
How should 1 know? I am not
yet valet to my guests" he had an
swered somewhat testify. He was
sorry for speaking that way now. and
he began to wish he had answered diff
ferently. But let that pass with the
rest. He drank his wine in silence SO
deep that the gulps he took sounded
like the cracking of mans neck.
LAS onzew
That was the night watch going by
crying out II o'clock. Who cared
whether it was II o'clock or not? He
was in a bad mood and there was no
cause for it. He looked at the deep
blue gown of the Madonna with the
pink face and blew his cigarette smoke
spitefully up toward the whitewashed
tim bers of the ceiling. de heard the
bush swinging over the front door
the sign of wine shop-rustle un-
easily against the outside wall and he
knew the wind had sprung up. 1t
scratched against the boards and made
him feel shivery, although it was a
warm night.
The next room was the kitchen with
its big fireplace, and he could hear the
murmur of the breeze as it came down
between the bricks and stirred about
among the cold ashes of the hearth.
'.It's a night for ghosts" said the
woman, as the wind blew in stronger
gusts.
Mind your business" Ramon had
said, as he poured out more wine for
himself. He did not like the thought
of ghosts, for on such nights as this.
when the wind blew. a secret dread
came over him. The strings of Pepe's
guitar were silent now, and the boy
caressed the instrument as it lay in his
lap. His big black eyes had taken on
a dreamy look.
Come, mi querido, go to bed" said
Dolores. and obediently he had hung
the guitar on the nail under the pict-
ure. He went into the little room on
the left.
It seemed to the woman as if it was
almost time for the night watch tc
come again, but she would not wait tC
hear the midnight hour shouted out.
| So away she went to her room. while
Ramon, usually Ramon the Cheerful
| but tonight Ramon the gloomy, sal
bolt upright in his chair, looking stead
ily at the wall and thinking. He
rolled fresh cigarette and retilled his
| glass. He was alone now and il
| seemed as if the scratching of the bust
outside was louder and more clamor'
Gus. The Pickering light of the candle
made long shadows. From a murmul
like the breathing of a sleeping chile
in health the breeze had turned to &
erowl. 1t seemed even to menace
him. The pink face of the Madonns
was merged into the blue of her gown
| The colors shifted and she had blue
face and pink gown, while it seemed
to him as if the child had slipped from
her arms to the ground.
"Ha! but that is queer" he thought
The cigarette burned his fingers. rous
ing him, and he knew he had beer
| asleep. There was no reason why ht
shouldn't have gone to bed. 1t mus
have been his fate. He rolled anothe
cigarette; he would blow out the ligh
and go to bed. He held his cigarette
over the flame, took two puffs, and in
stead of one candle on the table Their
were two, then three. then a long lin
of them, sputtering away together
What queer things were happening
this night.
Ramon. are you going to sit up al
nightP" came the shrill veice of Dol
ores. He had been sleeping. Th
voice reused him, but it was only fo
an instant-just long enough for hin
to call her an uncomplimentary nam
under his breath. Then he was nod
ding again. The cigarette fell to tn
q - d