Inside there is an article by Unamuno, in which, after fiercely attacking the Spanish Government and Primo de Rivera, he finishes by announcing his participation in a meeting at the Salle des Sociétés Savantes (together with Blasco Ibáñez and Ortega y Gasset), which he hopes will be attended by everyone with enough dignity to lift up their voices against Rivera’s Directory, which is the shame of old Europe and of the whole world. But Pablo still has not finished reading the article when he gets into the rear train car and sits in the window seat, at the very moment when Vivancos, thin as a rail, passes on the platform wearing a monocle and a top hat. Their gazes meet, and Vivancos makes a barely visible gesture, but an eloquent one. Better if we’re not seen together, he seems to say, and he makes off for the first class cars, because he knows that the best way to be left alone is to wear fine clothes and appear wealthy.
Pablo tries to read Unamuno’s article, but he can’t concentrate. It does not get any easier when, at the stop prior to Amiens, two policemen board the train, packing pistols and billy clubs. “Routine inspection,” they say as the train starts moving again. “Please have your papers out.” They go to the front seats and start inspecting IDs, followed closely by the conductor. Seconds later, Vivancos appears in the third class car, with a suitcase in hand, and gestures to Pablo to follow him to the rear platform, where no one can hear them. In fact, they can barely hear each other over all the racket.
“Listen,” says Vivancos, his smooth voice dissimulating his anxiety, “those gendarmes give me the creeps. Take this briefcase. If anything happens to me, get off in Amiens and give it to El Galeno, the guy you passed the letter to the other day. He will be there waiting on the bench next to the cafeteria. Then get back on the train as though nothing happened. You have your papers in order, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Great. Now go back to your seat and act normal.”
Pablo returns to his seat with his guts in a twist and a burning object in his hands. That makes two hot items in the last two trips, first a letter and now a briefcase. Fortunately, once again he doesn’t know what it contains, because if he did, he would be pale with panic. He places it on the floor, hiding it under his seat. From where he sits he can see the rear platform, but not Vivancos, who is outside his field of vision leaning on the rail. When the gendarmes reach his seat, Pablo greets them with the best French accent he can muster.
“Espagnol?” the younger one asks, after looking at his ID.
“Oui, bien sûr,” Pablo replies.
The young officer looks at him suspiciously and whispers something to the other gendarme, who shakes his head, pointing at the bottom of the ID card where it says that Pablo Martín Sánchez resides in Marly-les-Valenciennes. This appears to allay their suspicions, but just to be sure they call the conductor over. He drags his feet as he approaches. Stuttering, he explains to them that this is a regular passenger who makes this trip every week. The younger gendarme seems perturbed, but he gives Pablo back his papers. They continue on with their inspection, and when they are finished they exchange a few words without coming to an agreement. Finally, the younger one returns to the head of the train, while the other takes a cigarette from a case, lifts it to his mouth and walks to the rear of the car and goes out onto the platform. From where Pablo sits, he can see the gendarme’s surprise to discover Vivancos, as he removes the cigarette from his mouth and asks him something, perhaps requesting his documentation. The policeman makes another surprised face and speaks again, with a gesture that says, “Follow me, sir.” For a moment, nothing happens. Then he lifts his hand to his belt in a threatening manner. Suddenly a fist emerges into view and strikes the gendarme square in the face, knocking him down. When he manages to get up, he takes his pistol out and begins firing, not toward where the fist had come from, but toward the rear, into the distance, where Vivancos has tumbled to the ground after jumping from the moving train.
The nearby passengers shriek at the sound of gunshots. They crowd the aisles and peer out the windows. A woman at the rear of the car faints, and her companion shouts for a doctor. The young gendarme comes running, pistol at the ready as his colleague reenters the car with blood gushing from his nose. “Stop the train!” he shouts, cursing the fugitive’s mother and family, but the train is already braking for its arrival at the Amiens station. When it comes to a halt, the two gendarmes leap down. “Don’t let anyone off this train!” shouts the younger cop, as he starts running back to the spot where Vivancos disappeared. The other one goes to the cafeteria to ask for a towel and some water to clean up the blood, and a few passengers, half-frightened and half-intrigued, take advantage of his absence to get off the train, ignoring the stuttered warnings of the train agent, who tries in vain to remind them of the police’s orders. Someone gets out a bottle of pastis to try to revive the woman who fainted. Others whose final destination is Amiens take the opportunity to leave, not wanting to waste their whole morning over the incident. Pablo exits the train just in time to see El Galeno leaving the station. Feeling as though he’s carrying a ticking time bomb, he runs after him without thinking twice. He finds him in the street hailing a taxi, sidles up to him and puts the briefcase on the ground. El Galeno looks at him sideways, and either recognizes him or at least understands the situation. He picks up the briefcase and gets into the taxi, which speeds away. When Pablo returns to the train, the crowd is still in a frenzy, though the young woman has finally regained consciousness. The injured gendarme returns from the cafeteria with two pieces of cloth stuffed into his nostrils, and orders everyone back onto the train. He makes a telephone call to the gendarmerie of Amiens to request backup. His colleague returns drenched in sweat, boots covered with mud. “Rien de rien,” he says.
Within a few minutes, five more gendarmes arrive. Two of them get on the train and give the engineer the go-ahead to continue the journey. From this day forward, Pablo Martín Sánchez will have a record with the French police, as will another eighty-three passengers, all as innocent as him. Or perhaps slightly more innocent, you might say, considering that the briefcase Pablo has just passed to El Galeno contains fifteen thousand francs intended for the illegal purchase of contraband firearms.
As the train is leaving Amiens, the first thunderclap resounds. Shortly, a furious rainstorm erupts.
VI
(1900–1904)
“SEE, I DO HAVE A HEART!”
After his discovery, Pablo had returned to Robinsón’s hideout to show his friends that he wasn’t a vampire.
“Only, it’s on the right. Can you guys keep it a secret?”
Angela and Robinsón both kissed their thumbs, ceremonially tucked between their index and middle fingers, by way of promise. Then all three walked home in silence, saddened to think that they would soon be separated.
“Don’t worry,” Pablo said, trying to cheer them up as they parted ways, “we’ll see each other again soon, I promise.”
Indeed, he was true to his word; the Martíns would return to Béjar many times. In fact, from then on, every time Julián had to inspect the south of Salamanca, he went out of his way to make sure they spent a few days at Don Veremundo and Doña Leonor’s inn, knowing that Pablo had forged a strong friendship with the innkeepers’ son. So, after that life-changing Christmas, Pablo managed to keep the fires of friendship and true love burning. Like a bellows, every new encounter stoked the bonds between Pablo, Robinsón, and Angela, despite Rodrigo Martín’s attempts to keep his cousin away from the two “suckers,” and despite the changes inevitably taking place in the boys as they approached adolescence. The first time the Martíns returned to Béjar, Robinsón was no longer wearing his leg brace, although he was still noticeably limping, and Angela was half a hand taller, and from this new height she carried on observing everything with those big, sparkling eyes. At the next encounter, Robinsón had learned to smoke cigarettes and Angela to play the flute—so while the former was practicing his inhalations, the second was working on her exhalations, and torturing her friends with her efforts to emulate the Pied Piper. On another occasion, Robinsón had abandoned his adventure novels for books on the natural sciences, was diligently practicing the art of drawing, had taken up the hobby of raising silkworms, and had a