The Fortune
On some day in August of the year 1816, there arrived at the gates of the Captaincy General of Granada a certain ragged and grotesque gypsy, sixty years of age, a mule-shearer by trade and "Heredia" by surname or nickname, mounted on a very skinny, rickety, mouse-grey donkey whose harness came down to a rope tied round its neck; and, having set foot on the ground, he said with the greatest cheek "that he wanted to see the Captain General."
I need hardly add that such a claim stirred up, one after another, the resistance of the sentry, the laughter of the orderlies, and the doubts and hesitations of the aides-de-camp before it reached the ears of His Excellency Don Eugenio Portocarrero, Count of Montijo, then Captain General of the old kingdom of Granada... But since that grandee was a man of very good humour and had heard a great deal about Heredia, famous for his jokes, his shady swaps and his love of other people's property (with the permission of the deceived owner), he gave orders to let the gypsy in.
The gypsy entered His Excellency's office taking two steps forward and one back, which was how he walked on serious occasions, and, going down on his knees, exclaimed:
"Long live Most Holy Mary, and long live your worship, who is the master of the whole wide world!"
"Get up; stop your flattery, and tell me what you want..." the Count answered with apparent dryness.
Heredia became serious too, and said with great self-assurance:
"Well, sir, I have come to be given the thousand reales."
"What thousand reales?"
"The ones offered some days ago, in a proclamation, to whoever brings a description of Parrón."
"What! Did you know him?"
"No, sir."
"Then..."
"But now I do."
"How?"
"It's very simple. I looked for him; I saw him; I bring his description, and I ask for my reward."
"Are you sure you have seen him?" exclaimed the Captain General, with an interest that got the better of his doubts.
The gypsy burst out laughing and answered:
"Of course! Your worship is thinking: this gypsy is like all the rest, and wants to fool me. May God never forgive me if I lie! Yesterday I saw Parrón."
"But do you know the importance of what you are saying? Do you know that for three years we have been hunting that monster, that bloodthirsty bandit whom no one knows and no one has ever been able to see? Do you know that every day he robs some travellers in different parts of these mountains, and afterwards murders them, because he says the dead don't talk, and that this is the only way Justice will never find him? Do you know, in short, that to see Parrón is to meet death?"
The gypsy laughed again, and said:
"And doesn't your worship know that what a gypsy cannot do, nobody on earth can? Does anyone know when our laughter or our tears are true? Has your worship heard of any fox that knows as many tricks as we do? I say again, my General, that I have not only seen Parrón, but spoken with him."
"Where?"
"On the Tózar road."
"Give me proof of it."
"Listen, your worship. Eight days ago yesterday morning, my donkey and I fell into the hands of some robbers. They tied my hands very well and led me through some devilish ravines until we came to a little clearing where the bandits were camped. A cruel suspicion was eating at me. 'Can these be Parrón's people?' I kept saying to myself. 'Then there's no help for it, they'll kill me!... because that cursed man has made up his mind that no eyes that see his face shall ever see anything again.'
"I was turning this over when a man came up to me, dressed like a Macarena dandy, very richly, and, tapping me on the shoulder and smiling most charmingly, he said:
"'Friend, I am Parrón!'
"Hearing this and falling flat on my back were one and the same thing.
"The bandit burst out laughing.
"I got up, white as a sheet, went down on my knees, and cried out in every tone of voice I could invent:
"'Blessed be your soul, king of men!... Who could fail to know you by that royal bearing God has given you? To think there is a mother who bears such sons! Jesus! Let me embrace you, my son! May I die in an evil hour if this little gypsy didn't long to find you, to tell your fortune and kiss that emperor's hand! I'm one of yours too! Do you want me to teach you how to swap dead donkeys for live ones? Do you want to sell your old horses as colts? Do you want me to teach a mule French?'"
The Count of Montijo could not hold back his laughter. Then he asked:
"And what did Parrón answer to all that? What did he do?"
"The same as your worship: laughed his head off."
"And you?"
"I, my lord, laughed too; but tears as big as oranges were running down my whiskers."
"Go on."
"Then he held out his hand and said:
"'Friend, you are the only man of talent who has fallen into my power. All the others have the cursed habit of trying to make me sad, of crying, of complaining and doing other foolish things that put me in a bad mood. Only you have made me laugh; and if it weren't for those tears...'
"'What, sir? They are tears of joy!'
"'I believe it. The devil knows it is the first time I have laughed in six or eight years! It's true I haven't cried either.
"'But let's get on with it. Hey, boys!'
"Parrón saying these words and a cloud of blunderbusses surrounding me happened in the blink of an eye.
"'Jesus protect me!' I began to shout.
"'Stop!' cried Parrón. 'That's not the business yet. I'm calling you to ask what you took from this man.'
"'A bareback donkey.'
"'And money?'
"'Three duros and seven reales.'
"'Then leave us alone.'
"They all went off.
"'Now tell me my fortune,' cried the robber, holding out his hand.
"I took it; I thought for a moment; I saw that this was a case for speaking seriously, and I told him with all the truth of my soul:
"'Parrón, sooner or later, whether you take my life or leave it to me... you will die by hanging!'
"'That I knew already...' the bandit answered with complete calm. 'Tell me when.'
"I started to think.
"'This man,' I thought, 'is going to spare my life; tomorrow I reach Granada and sing; the day after, they catch him... Then the trial will begin...'
"'You ask when?' I answered aloud. 'Well, look! It will be next month.'
"Parrón shuddered, and so did I, realising that my pride as a fortune-teller might come out through the top of my skull.
"'Well, look here, gypsy...' Parrón answered very slowly. 'You are going to stay in my power... If they don't hang me in the whole of next month, I'll hang you, as surely as they hanged my father! If I die by that date, you will go free.'
"'Many thanks!' I said to myself. 'He pardons me... after he's dead!'
"And I was sorry I had set so short a term.
"So it was agreed: I was taken to the cave, where they locked me up, and Parrón got on his mare and made off through that scrubland..."
"Come, now I understand..." exclaimed the Count of Montijo. "Parrón has died; you have gone free, and that is how you know what he looks like..."
"Quite the opposite, my General! Parrón is alive, and here comes the blackest part of this story."
Pedro Antonio de Alarcón, 1853. An excerpt, translated for Zeitzung from the Spanish text at Ciudad Seva. Public domain.