The Bridge of San Luis Rey by Thornton Wilder

with God.”
    â€œGo with God.”
    They had supper together and it was arranged that they were to start for Lima the next morning. The Captain got him very drunk. At first they poured and drank and poured and drank in silence. Then the Captain began to talk about ships and their courses. He asked Esteban questions about tackle and about the guide-stars. Then Esteban began to talk about other things, and to talk very loudly:
    â€œOn the ship you must give me something to do all the time. I’ll do anything, anything. I’ll climb up high and fix ropes; and I’ll watch all night,—because, you know, I don’t sleep well anyway. And, Captain Alvarado, on the ship you must pretend that you don’t know me. Pretend that you hate me the most. So that you’ll always give me things to do. I can’t sit still and write at a table any more.—And don’t tell the other men about me . . . that is, about . . .”
    â€œI hear you went into a burning house, Esteban, and pulled someone out.”
    â€œYes. I didn’t get burned or anything. You know,” cried Esteban, leaning across the table, “you’re not allowed to kill yourself; you know you’re not allowed. Everybody knows that. But if you jump into a burning house to save somebody, that wouldn’t be killing yourself. And if you became a matador and the bull caught you that wouldn’t be killing yourself. Only you mustn’t put yourself in the bull’s way on purpose. Did you ever notice that animals never kill themselves, even when they’re sure to lose? They never jump into a river or anything, even when they’re sure to lose. Some people say that horses run into bonfires. Is that true?”
    â€œNo, I don’t think that’s true.”
    â€œI don’t think it’s true. We had a dog once. Well, I mustn’t think of that.—Captain Alvarado, do you know Madre María del Pilar?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI want to give her a present before I go away. Captain Alvarado, I want you to give me all my wages before I start—I won’t need any money anywhere—and I want to buy her a present now. The present isn’t from me only. She was . . . was . . .” Here Esteban wished to say his brother’s name, but was unable to. Instead he continued in a lower voice: “She had a kind of a . . . she had a serious loss, once. She said so. I don’t know who it was, and I want to give her a present. Women can’t bear that kind of a thing like we can.”
    The Captain promised him that they would choose something in the morning. Esteban talked about it at great length. At last the Captain saw him slip under the table, and himself, rising up, went out into the square before the inn. He looked at the line of the Andes and at the streams of stars crowding forever across the sky. And there was that wraith hanging in midair and smiling at him, the wraith with the silvery voice that said for the thousandth time: “Don’t be gone long. But I’ll be a big girl when you get back.” Then he went within and carried Esteban to his room and sat looking at him for a long while.
    The next morning he was waiting at the bottom of the stairs when Esteban appeared:
    â€œWe’re starting when you’re ready,” said the Captain.
    The strange glitter had returned to the boy’s eyes. He blurted out: “No, I’m not coming. I’m not coming after all.”
    â€œAïe! Esteban! But you have promised me that you would come.”
    â€œIt’s impossible. I can’t come with you,” and he turned back up the stairs.
    â€œCome here a moment, Esteban, just a moment.”
    â€œI can’t come with you. I can’t leave Peru.”
    â€œI want to tell you something.”
    Esteban came down to the foot of the stairs.
    â€œHow about that present for Madre María del Pilar?” asked the Captain in a low voice.