The Black Stallion Mystery by Walter Farley Read Free Book Online Page A

everything to me, as she says, mother and father. But enough of this! Come with me while I prepare for the ring. I have already sent for El Dorado.”
    They went to his bedroom where he pulled on two pairs of long white cotton stockings beneath his pants and leather
zahones
. He changed his shirt and put on a short leather jacket. Both were soiled and wrinkled.
    María entered the room, her eyes dry. “See how fearful of the bulls he is!” she said scornfully. “He will not let me wash a dirty shirt because it is pale with the sand of the bull ring!”
    “I fought well in it,” González answered matter-of-factly. “Please go, María, and leave us alone.” He slipped a gold chain and cross around his neck, ignoring the woman, who hadn’t budged. Nervously he unbuttoned his jacket and reached for a cigarette in his shirt pocket. There was no doubt that he was upset regardless of all his brave talk.
    By her ridicule, María sought to embarrass him still more and keep him at home. She turned upon Alec and Henry and said shrilly, “He goes because he cannot help himself, yet he is deathly afraid. You have only to look at him to know!”
    The big man took a round, wide-rimmed hat from his closet. Like the shirt and jacket it was soiled with the sweat marks of many hours spent with the bulls. “It is no time to flout one’s courage,” he said quietly, “or, for that matter, one’s superstitions.” Without looking at María he fingered the thin red chin strap, twirling the hat while he finished his cigarette.
    “Of course,” he said, glancing at Alec, “it is not so strange that one’s heart beats a little faster before such an encounter. My young friend understands what I mean, since he has many times awaited the opening of a starting gate.”
    The woman laughed loudly. “Your young friend would run for his life if the
toril
gate opened and he saw the bull come charging out of his darkened pen! No, it is not the same at all. Your young friend’s heart pounds fast with stimulation,
yours with fear!
”
    The big man finished his cigarette and stomped upon it with his boot. “I’m dry,” he said. “Get me water—and quickly.”
    María met his gaze defiantly, then poured a glass of water from a pitcher beside the bed. “You are always dry on such a day. You won’t eat for fear of being gored and requiring an operation. But you will drink water, gallons of it.”
    “That is my business.”
    “
You
are my business,” she answered and there was a sudden softness to her voice. “Please give me peace. Give up this dance of death.”
    González laughed and the sound of it filled the room, the house. He kicked a booted foot high in theair, pretending to dance. “My herdsmen would laugh to hear you call it so. Every day they ride with the bulls and return safely at night.” He reached for her but she flung his hand away.
    “Is it not different,” she asked softly, “that you are alone with a raging, fighting bull in a small cage?”
    “I have my horse and lance,” he answered, smiling.
    She turned to him, her eyes wet with tears. “You are afraid and yet you go,” she said simply.
    He shrugged his big shoulders. “Perhaps a little afraid, María, but it will pass quickly. In the ring there is no time for fear.” His voice was as soft as hers. “I see I cannot even pretend to be a hero to you,
ever.
”
    “You risk your life for nothing.”
    His arms swept gently around her. “It is not for
nothing
, María. I wish you would come just once to see how beautiful it is. Please come.”
    She shook her head. “You cannot always win. The bull must have his day, too.” She burst out crying and his big arms pressed her close.
    “Now, now, María,” he said. But she turned tearfully from him and went toward a large crucifix on the far wall. There she knelt before it.
    For a moment González watched her, then he turned to Alec and Henry and smiled. “Come, the longer we make the bull wait the angrier he