les and
embroidery of his pink and silver vest, and the jewel of the ring that
confined the ends of his cravat; this jewel was of considerable value,
proving, as did the whole of the costume, that its owner belonged to the
aristocracy of his profession. His _mono_ of new ribbons, attached to
the lock of hair reserved expressly for that purpose, spread in gay
profusion over his nape; his montero, of the most glossy black, was
loaded with silk ornaments of the same colour; his pumps,
extraordinarily small and thin, would have done honour to a shoemaker,
and might have served a goddess of the ballet.

Nevertheless, Juancho--such was the name of the torero--had not the
frank, open air of a handsome young fellow with gay garments on his
back, about to be applauded by a host of pretty women. Did apprehension
of the approaching contest disturb his serenity? Had he seen in his
dreams an infernal bull bearing a matador empaled upon his horns of
red-hot steel? Nothing of the sort. This gloomy air was his wont since a
twelvemonth. Without being on bad terms with his comrades, there no
longer existed between him and them that jovial and careless familiarity
usual amongst persons who share the chances of a perilous profession. He
did not repulse advances, but he made none; and although an Andalusian,
he was often taciturn. If he at times threw off his melancholy, it was
to run into the opposite extreme, and abandon himself to a gaiety as
violent as it was factitious. Then he would drink like a fish, dance
like a madman, and quarrel about every thing and about nothing. The fit
over, he relapsed into his previous moody reserve.

The hour fixed for the commencement of the sport approached. Juancho
rose from his bench, threw off his cloak, took his sword, and mingled
with the motley group of _toreros_ and _chulos_, _banderillos_ and
_espadas_. The cloud had left his brow; his eyes sparkled, his nostril
was dilated. A singular expression of daring animated his fine features.
His foot pressed the ground energetically, and the nerves of his instep
quivered beneath the knitted silk like the tense-strings on a
guitar-handle. Juancho was really a splendid fellow, and his costume
wonderfully set off his physical perfections. A broad red sash encircled
his graceful waist; the silver embroideries covering his vest formed, at
the collar and pockets, and on the sleeves, patches where the groundwork
of the garment disappeared under the complicatio