"Thereupon a man made answer: 'Yes, I can!'
"'Step forward, you!'
"The man came forth from the drove of poor, dejected creatures, wounded, some of them. He advanced with head proudly erect. It was Araquil.
"'You are not a soldier?' said the officer.
"'No.'
"'Why are you here?'
"'Because they put me here. I am not a combatant, I am not. I was going to Bilbao to visit my relations, and the battle blocked my way. That is how it was.'
"'And you know something of medicine?'
"'No. But I know how to treat wounds. I am a bit of a torero at odd times.'
"The officer was distrustful and brought Araquil up to Zucarraga, who allowed his big black eyes to rest on the handsome young fellow. Then the Carlist chief called on him for an explanation. Araquil invented a story: he was longing to embrace his old parents, who were shut up in Bilbao. It was not his fault if the civil war separated families like that. He went his way, leading his usual life among the firing of the hostile armies.
"'You belong to the Basque country? Why are you not with the legitimist Pretender?' Zucarraga asked in turn.
"'Because I take sides with no one.'
"'The officers had been examining and scrutinizing the young man rather doubtfully. His answer elicited some murmurs among them, which Zucarraga checked.
"'Every one is free to do as he pleases,' he gently said. Then, bending his limpid glance straight into
