In the whole dark street there was only one spot of flickering lights
and moving figures, where the Senor Administrador recognized his wife's
carriage waiting at the door of the Avellanos's house. He rode up,
almost unnoticed, and looked on without a word while some of his own
servants came out of the gate carrying Don Jose Avellanos, who, with
closed eyes and motionless features, appeared perfectly lifeless. His
wife and Antonia walked on each side of the improvised stretcher, which
was put at once into the carriage. The two women embraced; while from
the other side of the landau Father Corbelan's emissary, with his ragged
beard all streaked with grey, and high, bronzed cheek-bones, stared,
sitting upright in the saddle. Then Antonia, dry-eyed, got in by the
side of the stretcher, and, after making the sign of the cross rapidly,
lowered a thick veil upon her face. The servants and the three or four
neighbours who had come to assist, stood back, uncovering their heads.
On the box, Ignacio, resigned now to driving all night (and to having
perhaps his throat cut before daylight) looked back surlily over his
shoulder.
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