They laughed and jested, but it could be seen that the merriment
was forced. The laughter had a certain nervous ring, eyes flashed,
and in more than one of these a tear glistened. Nevertheless, these
young men were cruel, they were unreasonable! It was not the first
time that their most beautiful ideas had been so treated, that their
hopes had been defrauded with big words and small actions: before
this Don Custodio there had been many, very many others.

In the center of the room under the red lanterns were placed four
round tables, systematically arranged to form a square. Little wooden
stools, equally round, served as seats. In the middle of each table,
according to the practise of the establishment, were arranged four
small colored plates with four pies on each one and four cups of tea,
with the accompanying dishes, all of red porcelain. Before each seat
was a bottle and two glittering wine-glasses.

Sandoval was curious and gazed about scrutinizing everything, tasting
the food, examining the pictures, reading the bill of fare. The
others conversed on the topics of the day: about the French actresses,
about the mysterious illness of Simoun, who, according to some, had
been found wounded in the street, while others averred that he had
attempted to commit suicide. As was natural, all lost themselves in
conjectures. Tadeo gave his particular version, which according to him
came from a reliable source: Simoun had been assaulted by some unknown
person in the old Plaza Vivac, [55] the motive being revenge, in proof
of which was the fact that Simoun himself refused to make the least
explanation. From this they proceeded to talk of mysterious revenges,
and naturally of monkish pranks, each one relating the exploits of
the curate of his town.