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Chapter 5

           Theyyelled“VivaMontero!VivaPedrito!”Inordertomakethemstillmoreenthusiastic,andfromthenaturalpleasurehehadindissembling,hedroppedthereinsonhishorse’sneck,andwithatremendouseffectoffamiliarityandconfidenceslippedhishandsunderthearmsofSenoresFuentesandGamacho.Inthatposture,witharaggedtownmozoholdinghishorsebythebridle,herodetriumphantlyacrossthePlazatothedooroftheIntendencia.Itsoldgloomywallsseemedtoshakeintheacclamationsthatrenttheairandcoveredthecrashingpealsofthecathedralbells.

           PedroMontero,thebrotherofthegeneral,dismountedintoashoutingandperspiringthrongofenthusiastswhomtheraggedNationalswerepushingbackfiercely.Ascendingafewstepshesurveyedthelargecrowdgapingathim.andthebullet-speckledwallsofthehousesoppositelightlyveiledbyasunnyhazeofdust.Theword“PORVENIR”inimmenseblackcapitals,alternatingwithbrokenwindows,staredathimacrossthevastspace;andhethoughtwithdelightofthehourofvengeance,becausehewasverysureoflayinghishandsuponDecoud.Onhislefthand,Gamacho,bigandhot,wipinghishairywetface,uncoveredasetofyellowfangsinagrinofstupidhilarity.Onhisright,SenorFuentes,smallandlean,lookedonwithcompressedlips.Thecrowdstaredliterallyopen-mouthed,lostineagerstillness,asthoughtheyhadexpectedthegreatguerrillero,thefamousPedrito,tobeginscatteringatoncesomesortofvisiblelargesse.Whathebeganwasaspeech.

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