after him. The picadors then took their turn, and I noticed that two more had been added to their number; one an Indian, a bold-looking fellow he was, who bid fair to rival the best of them. They succeeded in fastening several bandorillas in his teros (neck), and one rocket; and the Indian caught off a rosette which had been placed between the bull's eyes. The noble animal was then the very embodiment of fury. He instantly rushed at one and another with terrible force, sometimes falling on his knees when they suddenly sprang aside. There was a short pause, and Lorenzo, walking over to where several cavaliers were seated, and bowing, exclaimed, "Now for my wager." I looked at the dama (lady) beside me. She was pale as the picture of the Virgin, whose name she bore, in the cathedral.
Again the picadors commenced their play of torture, again were the bandorillas and rockets fastened in his tremendous fat neck, again he plunged, roaring, around the ring, fighting blindly at one and another in the confusion and clamor. All at once, the Indian, placing himself in front of the bull, shouted defiance. The animal made a plunge, and the Indian, placing his left foot between his horns, sprang clear over him. At this, the Plaza de Toros was filled with bravos and shouting that lasted for several minutes.
It now came Lorenzo's turn. He faced the bull and waved his cap. At this I again looked at the Dama Gaudaloupa. Her face was hidden in her hands, and her whole frame shook like the leaves of the aspen. A cry of horror rose from the crowd. I instantly turned, and saw the ill-fated Lorenzo dangling upon one of the toro's horns, and in an instant more he was sent high in the air, and his inanimate body fell heavily on the horns of the furious beast, who dashed it upon the ground and trampled upon it. There was one wild, piercing shriek—such as I never heard before, nor do I wish to hear again—that rent the air and hushed the clamorous crowd like magic. Poor Gaudaloupa! her happiness, her hope, her all but life had been lost with the wager for the ancient coins!
You may think it strange; the performance, or fete, went
