Bartolomé Read Online Free

figs,’ her father said sharply. He felt guilty that the midday rest had lasted so long.
    Bartolomé hesitated. There were only a few fruits, and he could smell their sweet, heavy fragrance. He struggled with himself.
    â€˜Beatríz and Manuel can have them,’ he said at last.
    Juan nodded and took the figs. Bartolomé tried to see if there was an acknowledging look in his father’s eyes, but he had turned away and was sticking a fig into Manuel’s mouth.
    He held the other two out to Beatríz. ‘You can have them if you’ll walk a bit now,’ he said.
    Beatríz pulled a face.
    Maybe she’ll refuse, and I’ll get the figs back , Bartolomé hoped.
    â€˜He’s allowed to sit the whole time,’ whinged Beatríz. ‘And he’s much older than me.’
    Juan lifted Beatríz down immediately from the donkey’s back.
    â€˜You’ll walk now,’ he said, putting her down roughly on the stony road. He pressed the figs into her hand. ‘You should be thankful that you have two strong, healthy legs, and that you aren’t a cripple.’

The Mill
    THE afternoon went on for ever. They were still on the road when dusk began to fall. Juan had miscalculated. He had expected to make better progress. Now he had to hold Beatríz steady on the donkey so that she wouldn’t fall down from tiredness. He used the other hand to lead the animal.
    Joaquín had fallen behind ages ago and was dragging along, exhausted, behind the others. Ana held on with one hand to the side of the cart and allowed herself to be pulled along, her eyes half-closed, rather than really walking herself. Isabel did not complain, but Manuel seemed to get heavier with every step.
    â€˜We can’t sleep out of doors!’
    â€˜There’s a mill at the next bridge. We’ll spend the night there. It’s not far.’ Juan urged his family to get a move on. The only weapon he had was a dagger, and it was dangerous to travel after sunset without protection. Everyone had heard stories of vagabonds or robbers who wouldn’t think twice about murdering travellers in order to get hold of their goods and chattels, no matter how little they were worth.
    The first stars were already twinkling in the sky when at last they saw the grey silhouette of the mill on the horizon between a long row of pine trees, stretching up against the sky like black torches.
    Joaquín, Ana and Isabel were too tired to be happy about it. They stumbled forward, too tired to think. Bartolomé, however, was wide awake. He had slept for a while after he’d eaten, and now he was sitting with his hump leaning against the bed, looking at the astonishing universe above his head.
    If I were up there , he thought, then I would be able to see everything: the village, the road, the mill between the pines, even Madrid, without being seen myself.
    When they reached a point where there was only the bridge between them and the mill, Juan bent over Bartolomé and opened the chest. Bartolomé took one last look at the mill. In spite of the dark sky, it seemed to him now to be more white than grey. Perhaps that was because the pines behind it were so black, or because the stars shone so brightly over it. With this image before his eyes, he allowed himself to be bundled into the chest.
    Juan locked the lid carefully.
    As if he’s afraid I won’t stay in here , thought Bartolomé angrily. In fact he would never disobey his father’s orders. If his father could not love him as he loved Joaquín and Manuel, Bartolomé could at least get his attention by being obedient.
    Juan led his family over the bridge, through a gate in the fence to the door of the mill, and knocked.
    â€˜You can’t leave Bartolomé outside all by himself,’ hissed Isabel.
    â€˜We’ll take the chest in,’ answered Juan curtly. He’d decided that, apart from in their own village, Bartolomé would