e got into the car, the youngster of the night before appeared with
a letter.

"From 'The Cub-Slut'; please read it right away."

"Give it to me; I will read it."

"She told me you were to read it right away."

"Yes, man, yes."

Caesar took the letter and put it distractedly into his pocket. The
motor started and Caesar did not read the note. At eight in the morning
he was on his way to Cidones. The polls had been established legally.

It was raining gently. As he drew near Cidones, the sun appeared. The
river was turbid and mud-coloured. Thick grey fog-clouds were rolling
about the plain; when they gathered below the hill where Caesar stood,
they gave it the appearance of an island in the middle of the sea. From
the chimneys of the town the smoke came out like hanks of spun silver,
and bells were ringing through this Sunday morning calm.

Caesar stopped at an inn which was a little outside the town. The
blacksmith, an old Liberal, came out to receive him. The old man had
been suffering with rheumatism for some while. "How goes it?" Caesar
asked him.

"Very well. I have been to vote for you."

"And your health?"

"Now that spring is coming, one begins to get better."

"Yes, that is true," said Caesar; "I hadn't noticed that the trees are
in bloom."

"Oh, yes, they are out. In a little while we shall have good weather.
It's a consolation for old folks."

Caesar took leave of the blacksmith and got into the motor.

* * * * *

_CAESAR! CAESAR!_

"Yes, spring is in flower," said Caesar. "I will remove all the
obstacles and men's strength will come to life, which is action. This
town, then others, and finally all Spain.... May nothing remain hidden
or closed up; everything come to life, out into the sunlight. I am a
strong man; I am a man of iron; there are no obstacles for me. The
forces of Nature will assist me. Caesar! I must be Caesar!"

The automobile began to move in a straight line toward Castro.

The ground on both sides of the highway fled away rapidly.

The automobile lessened its pace at the foot of the hill, and began to
climb.

It went in by an old gate in the wall, which was called the Cart Gate.

The street of the same name, a street in the poor suburb, was narrow
and the houses low; it was paved with cobbles. A little farther along
several lanes formed a crossroads.

This was a quarter of brothels and of gipsies who made baskets.

When he reached the cross