Chapter 4

IV

"GASPAR RUIZ had clambered up on the sill, and sat down there with his
feet against the thickness of the wall and his knees slightly bent.
The window was not quite broad enough for the length of his legs. It
appeared to my crestfallen perception that he meant to keep the window
all to himself. He seemed to be taking up a comfortable position.
Nobody inside dared to approach him now he could strike with his
hands.

"'Por Dios!' I heard the sergeant muttering at my elbow, 'I shall
shoot him through the head now, and get rid of that trouble. He is a
condemned man.'

"At that I looked at him angrily. 'The general has not confirmed the
sentence,' I said--though I knew well in my heart that these were but
vain words. The sentence required no confirmation. 'You have no right
to shoot him unless he tries to escape,' I added firmly.

"'But sangre de Dios!' the sergeant yelled out, bringing his musket
up to the shoulder, 'he is escaping now. Look!'

"But I, as if that Gaspar Ruiz had cast a spell upon me, struck the
musket upward, and the bullet flew over the roofs somewhere. The
sergeant dashed his arm to the ground and stared. He might have
commanded the soldiers to fire, but he did not. And if he had he would
not have been obeyed, I think, just then.

"With his feet against the thickness of the wall, and his hairy hands
grasping the iron bar, Gaspar sat still. It was an attitude. Nothing
happened for a time. And suddenly it dawned upon us that he was
straightening his bowed back and contracting his arms. His lips were
twisted into a snarl. Next thing we perceived was that the bar of
forged iron was being bent slowly by the mightiness of his pull. The
sun was beating full upon his cramped, unquivering figure. A shower of
sweat-drops burst out of his forehead. Watching the bar grow crooked,
I saw a little blood ooze from under his finger-nails. Then he let go.
For a moment he remained all huddled up, with a hanging head, looking
drowsily into the upturned palms of his mighty hands. Indeed he seemed
to have dozed off. Suddenly he flung himself backwards on the sill,
and setting the soles of his bare feet against the other middle bar,
he bent that one too, but in the opposite direction from the first.

"Such was his strength, which in this case relieved my painful
feelings. And the man seemed to have done nothing. Except for the
change of position in order to use his feet, which made us all start
by its swiftness, my recollection is that of immobility. But he had
bent the bars wide apart. And now he could get out if he liked; but he
dropped his legs inwards; and looking over his shoulder beckoned to
the soldiers. 'Hand up the water,' he said.