The Cabin Part 7
You’re reading novel The Cabin Part 7 online at LightNovelFree.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit LightNovelFree.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy!
He wished to say to him just two words: he had been wanting to do so for some time, but how? did he never come forth from his land?
Two little words, no more.
And he gave him the couple of words, counselling him to leave the lands of old Barret as soon as possible. He should believe the people who wished him well, those who knew the _huerta_. His presence there was an offence, and the farm-house, which was almost new, was an insult to the poor people. He ought to believe him, and with his family go away to other parts.
Batiste smiled ironically on hearing Pimento, who seemed confused by the serenity of the intruder, humbled by meeting a man who did not seem afraid of him.
Go away? There was not a bully in all the _huerta_ who could make him abandon that which was now his; that which was watered by his sweat; moreover he had to earn bread for his family. He was a peaceful man, understand! but if they trifled with him, he had just as much manly spirit as most. Let every one attend to his own business, for he thought that he would do enough if he attended to his own, and failed n.o.body.
And scornfully turning his back upon the Valencian, he went his way.
Pimento, accustomed to making all the _huerta_ tremble, was more and more disconcerted by the serenity of Batiste.
"Is that your last word?" he shouted to him when he was already at some distance.
"Yes, the last," answered Batiste without turning.
And he went ahead, disappearing in a curve of the road. At some distance, on the old farm of Barret, the dog was barking, scenting the approach of his master.
On finding himself alone, Pimento again recovered his arrogance.
_Cristo!_ How this old fellow had mocked him! He muttered some curses, and clenching his fist, shook it threateningly at the bend in the road where Batiste had disappeared.
"You shall pay for this,--you shall pay for this, you thug!"
In his tone which trembled with madness, there vibrated all the condensed hatred of the _huerta_.
IV
It was Thursday, and according to a custom which dated back for five centuries, the Tribunal of the Waters was going to meet at the doorway of the Cathedral named after the Apostles.
The clock of the Miguelete pointed to a little after ten, and the inhabitants of the _huerta_ were gathering in idle groups or seating themselves about the large basin of the dry fountain which adorned the _plaza_, forming about its base an animated wreath of blue and white cloaks, red and yellow handkerchiefs, and skirts of calico prints of bright colours.
Others were arriving, drawing up their horses, with their rush-baskets loaded with manure, satisfied with the collection they had made in the streets; still others, in empty carts, were trying to persuade the police to allow their vehicles to remain there; and while the old folks chatted with the women, the young went into the neighbouring cafe, to kill time over a gla.s.s of brandy, while chewing at a three-centime cigar.
All those of the _huerta_ who had grievances to avenge were here, gesticulating and scowling, speaking of their rights, impatient to let loose the interminable chain of their complaints before the syndics or judges of the seven ca.n.a.ls.
The bailiff of the tribunal, who had been carrying on this contest with the insolent and aggressive crowd for more than fifty years, placed a long sofa of old damask which was on its last legs within the shadow of the Gothic portal, and then set up a low railing, thereby closing in the square of sidewalk which had to serve the purpose of an audience-chamber.
The portal of the Apostles, old, reddish, corroded by the centuries, extending its gnawed beauty to the light of the sun, formed a background worthy of an ancient tribunal; it was like a canopy of stone devised to protect an inst.i.tution five centuries old.
In the tympanum appeared the Virgin with six angels, with stiff white gowns and wings of fine plumage, chubby-cheeked, with heavy curls and flaming tufts of hair, playing violas and flutes, flageolets and tambourines. Three garlands of little figures, angels, kings, and saints, covered with openwork canopies, ran through three arches superposed over the three portals. In the thick, solid walls, forepart of the portal, the twelve apostles might be seen, but so disfigured, so ill-treated, that Jesus himself would not have known them; the feet gnawed, the nostrils broken, the hands mangled; a line of huge figures who, rather than apostles, looked like sick men who had escaped from a clinic, and were sorrowfully displaying their shapeless stumps. Above, at the top of the portal, there opened out like a gigantic flower covered with wire netting, the coloured rose-window which admitted light to the church; and on the lower part the stone along the base of the columns adorned with the s.h.i.+elds of Aragon, was worn, the corners and foliage having become indistinct through the rubbing of innumerable generations.
By this erosion of the portals the pa.s.sing of riot and revolt might be divined. A whole people had met and mingled beside these stones; here, in other centuries, the turbulent Valencian populace, shouting and red with fury, had moved about; and the saints of the portal, mutilated and smooth as Egyptian mummies, gazing at the sky with their broken heads, appeared to be still listening to the Revolutionary bell of the Union, or the arquebus shots of the Brotherhood.
The bailiff finished arranging the Tribunal, and placed himself at the entrance of the enclosure to await the judges. The latter arrived solemnly, dressed in black, with white sandals, and silken handkerchiefs under their broad hats, they had the appearance of rich farmers. Each was followed by a cortege of ca.n.a.l-guards, and by persistent supplicants who, before the hour of justice, were seeking to predispose the judges'
minds in their favour.
The farmers gazed with respect at these judges, come forth from their own cla.s.s, whose deliberations did not admit of any appeal. They were the masters of the water: in their hands remained the living of the families, the nourishment of the fields, the timely watering, the lack of which kills a harvest. And the people of these wide plains, separated by the river, which is like an impa.s.sable frontier, designated the judges by the number of the ca.n.a.ls.
A little, thin, bent, old man, whose red and h.o.r.n.y hands trembled as they rested on the thick staff, was Cuart de Faitanar; the other, stout and imposing, with small eyes scarcely visible under bushy white brows, was Mislata. Soon Roscana arrived; a youth who wore a blouse that had been freshly ironed, and whose head was round. After these appeared in sequence the rest of the seven:--Favara, Robella, Tornos and Mestalla.
Now all the representatives of the four plains were there; the one on the left bank of the river; the one with the four ca.n.a.ls; the one which the _huerta_ of Rufaza encircles with its roads of luxuriant foliage ending at the confines of the marshy Albufera; and the plain on the right bank of the Turia, the poetic one, with its strawberries of Benimaclet, its _cyperus_ of Alboraya and its gardens always overrun with flowers.
The seven judges saluted, like people who had not seen each other for a week; they spoke of their business beside the door of the Cathedral: from time to time, upon opening the wooden screens covered with religious advertis.e.m.e.nts, a puff of incense-laden air, somewhat like the damp exhalation from a subterranean cavern, diffused itself into the burning atmosphere of the _plaza_.
At half-past eleven, when the divine offices were ended and only some belated devotee was still coming from the temple, the Tribunal began to operate.
The seven judges seated themselves on the old sofa; then the people of the _huerta_ came running up from all sides of the _plaza_, to gather around the railing, pressing their perspiring bodies, which smelled of straw and coa.r.s.e sheep's wool, close together, and the bailiff, rigid and majestic, took his place near the pole topped with a bronze crook, symbolic of aquatic majesty.
The seven syndics removed their hats and remained with their hands between the knees and their eyes upon the ground, while the eldest p.r.o.nounced the customary sentence:
"Let the Tribunal begin."
Absolute stillness. The crowd, observing religious silence, seemed here, in the midst of the _plaza_, to be wors.h.i.+pping in a temple. The sound of carriages, the clatter of tramways, all the din of modern life pa.s.sed by, without touching or stirring this most ancient inst.i.tution, which remained tranquil, like one who finds himself in his own house, insensible to time, paying no attention to the radical change surrounding it, incapable of any reform.
The inhabitants of the _huerta_ were proud of their tribunal. It dispensed justice; the penalty without delay, and nothing done with papers, which confuse and puzzle honest men.
The absence of stamped paper and of the clerk of court who terrifies, was the part best liked by these people who were accustomed to looking upon the art of writing of which they were ignorant with a certain superst.i.tious terror. Here were no secretary, no pens, no days of anxiety while awaiting sentence, no terrifying guards, nor anything more than words.
The judges kept the declarations in their memory, and pa.s.sed sentence immediately with the tranquillity of those who know that their decisions must be fulfilled. On him who would be insolent with the tribunal, a fine was imposed; from him who had refused to comply with the verdict, the water was taken away forever, and he must die of hunger.
n.o.body played with this tribunal. It was the simple patriarchal justice of the good legendary king, coming forth mornings to the door of his palace in order to settle the disputes of his subjects; the judicial system of the Kabila chief, pa.s.sing sentences at his tent-entrance. Thus are rascals punished, and the honourable triumph, and there is peace.
And the public, men, women, and children, fearful of missing a word, pressed close together against the railing, moving, sometimes, with violent contortions of their shoulders, in order to escape from suffocation.
The complainants would appear at the other side of the railing, before the sofa as old as the tribunal itself.
The bailiff would take away their staffs and shepherds' crooks, which he regarded as offensive arms incompatible with the respect due the tribunal. He pushed them forward until with their mantle folded over their hands they were planted some paces distant from the judges, and if they were slow in baring their head, the handkerchief was wrested from it with two tugs. It was hard, but with this crafty people it was necessary to act thus.
The line filing by brought a continuous outburst of intricate questions, which the judges settled with marvellous facility.
The keepers of the ca.n.a.ls and the irrigation-guards, charged with the establishment of each one's turn in the irrigation, formulated their charges, and the defendants appeared to defend themselves with arguments. The old men allowed their sons, who knew how to express themselves with more energy, to speak; the widow appeared, accompanied by some friend of the deceased, a devoted protector, who acted as her spokesman.
The pa.s.sion of the south cropped out in every case.
In the midst of the accusation, the defendant would not be able to contain himself. "You lie! What you say is evil and false! You are trying to ruin me!"
But the seven judges received these interruptions with furious glances.
Here n.o.body was permitted to speak before his own turn came. At the second interruption, he would have to pay a fine of so many _sous_. And he who was obstinate, driven by his vehement madness, which would not permit him to be silent before the accuser, paid more and more _sous_.
The judges, without giving up their seats, would put their heads together like playful goats, and whisper together for some seconds; then the eldest, in a composed and solemn voice, p.r.o.nounced the sentence, designating the fine in _sous_ and pounds, as if money had suffered no change, and majestic Justice with its red robe and its escort of plumed crossbowmen were still pa.s.sing through the centre of the _plaza_.
It was after twelve, and the seven judges were beginning to show signs of being weary of such prodigious outpouring of the stream of justice, when the bailiff called out loudly to Bautista Borrull, denouncing him for infraction and disobedience of irrigation-rights.
The Cabin Part 7
You're reading novel The Cabin Part 7 online at LightNovelFree.com. You can use the follow function to bookmark your favorite novel ( Only for registered users ). If you find any errors ( broken links, can't load photos, etc.. ), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible. And when you start a conversation or debate about a certain topic with other people, please do not offend them just because you don't like their opinions.
The Cabin Part 7 summary
You're reading The Cabin Part 7. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Vicente Blasco Ibanez already has 758 views.
It's great if you read and follow any novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest, hottest novel everyday and FREE.
LightNovelFree.com is a most smartest website for reading novel online, it can automatic resize images to fit your pc screen, even on your mobile. Experience now by using your smartphone and access to LightNovelFree.com
- Related chapter:
- The Cabin Part 6
- The Cabin Part 8