"
Naturally every one was astonished, and the first thought was, What
will happen now? Blood would assuredly flow, and I was there to see--
and how my elder brothers would envy me!
Barboza rose scowling from his seat, and dropping his hand on the hilt
of his _facon_ said: "Who is this who forbids me, Basilio Barboza, to
sing of 1840?"
"I forbid you!" shouted the stranger in a rage and smiting his breast.
"Do you know what it is to me to hear that date--that fatal year? It
is like the stab of a knife. I, a boy, was of that year; and when the
fifteen years of my slavery and misery were over there was no longer a
roof to shelter me, nor father nor mother nor land nor cattle!"
Every one instantly understood the case of this poor man, half crazed
at the sudden recollection of his wasted and ruined life, and it did
not seem right that he should bleed and perhaps die for such a cause,
and all at once there was a rush and the crowd thrust itself between
him and his antagonist and hustled him a dozen yards away. Then one in
the crowd, an old man, shouted: "Do you think, friend, that you are
the only one in this gathering who lost his liberty and all he
possessed on earth in that fatal year? I, too, suffered as you have
suffered--"
"And I!" "And I!" shouted others, and while this noisy demonstration
was going on some of those who were pressing close to the stranger
began to ask him if he knew who the man was he had forbidden to sing
of 1840? Had he never heard of Barboza, the celebrated fighter who had
killed so many men in fights?
Perhaps he had heard and did not wish to die just yet: at all events a
change came over his spirit; he became more rational and even
apologetic, and Barboza graciously accepted the assurance that he had
no desire to provoke a quarrel.
Pages:
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166