At the Plaza de Toros, the following Sunday afternoon, Charles saw La
Clavel; she was seated on an upper tier near the stand of the
musicians, over the entrance for the bulls; and, in an audience
composed almost entirely of men, she was brilliantly conspicuous in a
flaming green manton embroidered in white petals; her mantilla was
white, and Charles could distinguish the crimson blot of the flower by
her cheek. The brass horns and drums of the band were making a rasping
uproar, and the crowded wooden amphitheatre was tense with excitement.
Andres Escobar, beside Charles, was being gradually won from a settled
melancholy; and, in an interested voice, he spoke to Charles about the
espada, Jose Ponce, who had not yet killed a bull in Cuba, but who was
a great hero of the ring in Spain and South America.