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ir of slippers with yellow tassels； and there he would officiate at a rite which for its care and length recalled Remedios the Beauty。 Before bathing he would perfume the pool with the salts that he carried in three alabaster flacons。 He did not bathe himself with the gourd but would plunge into the fragrant waters and remain there for two hours floating on his back； lulled by the coolness and by the memory of Amaranta。 A few days after arriving he put aside his taffeta suit； which in addition to being too hot for the town was the only one that he had； and he exchanged it for some tight…fitting pants very similar to those worn by Pietro Crespi during his dance lessons and a silk shirt woven with thread from living caterpillars and with his initials embroidered over the heart。 Twice a week he would wash the plete change in the tub and would wear his robe until it dried because he had nothing else to put on。 He never ate at home。 He would go out when the heat of siesta time had eased and would not return until well into the night。 Then he would continue his anxious pacing； breathing like a cat and thinking about Amaranta。 She and the frightful look of the saints in the glow of the nocturnal lamp were the two memories he retained of the house。 Many times during the hallucinating Roman August he had opened his eyes in the middle of his sleep and had seen Amaranta rising out of a marble…edged pool with her lace petticoats and the bandage on her hand； idealized by the anxiety of exile。 Unlike Aureliano Jos？who tried to drown that image in the bloody bog of war； he tried to keep it alive in the sink of concupiscence while he entertained his mother with the endless fable of his pontifical vocation。 It never occurred either to him or to Fernanda to think that their correspondence was an exchange of fantasies。 Jos？Arcadio； who left the seminary as soon as he reached Rome； continued nourishing the legend of theology and canon law so as not to jeopardize the fabulous inheritance of which his mother’s delirious letters spoke and which would rescue him from the misery and sordidness he shared with two friends in a Trastevere garret。 When he received Fernanda’s last letter； dictated by the foreboding of imminent death； he put the leftovers of his false splendor into a suitcase and crossed the ocean in the hold of a ship where immigrants were crammed together like cattle in a slaughterhouse； eating cold macaroni and wormy cheese。 Before he read Fernanda’s will； which was nothing but a detailed and tardy recapitulation of her misfortunes； the broken…down furniture and the weeds on the porch had indicated that he had fallen into a trap from which he would never escape； exiled forever from the diamond light and timeless air of the Roman spring。 During the crushing insomnia brought on by his asthma he would measure and remeasure the depth of his misfortune as he went through the shadowy house where the senile fussing of ？rsula had instilled a fear of the world in him。 In order to be sure that she would not lose him in the shadows； she had assigned him a corner of the bedroom； the only one where he would be safe from the dead people who wandered through the house after sundown。 “If you do anything bad；？？rsula would tell him； “the saints will let me know。？The terror…filled nights of his childhood were reduced to that corner where he would remain motionless until it was time to go to bed； perspiring with fear on a stool under the watchful and glacial eyes of the tattletale saints。 It was useless torture because even at that time he already had a terror of everything around him and he was prepared to be frightened at anything he met in life： women on the street； who would ruin his blood； the women in the house； who bore children with the tail of a pig； fighting cocks； who brought on the death of men and remorse for the rest of one’s life； firearms； which with the mere touch would bring down twenty years of war； uncertain ventures； which led only to disillusionment and madness—everything； in short； everything that God had created in His infinite goodness and that the devil had perverted。 When he awakened； pressed in the vise of his nightmares； the light in the window and the caresses of Amaranta in the bath and the pleasure of being powdered between the legs with a silk puff would release him from the terror。 Even ？rsula was different under the radiant light in the garden because there she did not talk about fearful things but would brush his teeth with charcoal powder so that he would have the radiant smile of a Pope； and she would cut and polish his nails so that the pilgrims who came to Rome from all over the world would be startled at the beauty of the Pope’s hands as he blessed them； and she would b his hair like that of a Pope； and she would sprinkle his body and his clothing with toilet water so that his body and his clothes would have the fragrance of a Pope。 In the courtyard of Castel Gandolfo he had seen the Pope on a balcony making the same speech in seven languages for a crowd of pilgrims and the only thing； indeed； that had drawn his attention was the whiteness of his hands； which seemed to have been soaked in lye； the dazzling shine of his summer clothing； and the hidden breath of cologne。
Almost a year after his return home； having sold the silver candlesticks and the heraldic chamberpot—which at the moment of truth turned out to have only a little gold plating on the crest—in order to eat； the only distraction of Jos？Arcadio was to pick up children in town so that they could play in the house。 He would appear with them at siesta time and have them skip rope in the garden； sing on the porch； and do acrobatics on the furniture in the living room while he would go among the groups giving lessons in good manners。 At that time he had finished with the tight pants and the silk shirts and was wearing an ordinary suit of clothing that he had bought in the Arab stores； but he still maintained his languid dignity and his papal air。 The children took over the house just as Meme’s schoolmates had done in the past。 Until well into the night they could be heard chattering and singing and tap…dancing； so that the house resembled a boarding school where there was no discipline。 Aureliano did not worry about the invasion as long as they did not bother him in Melquíades？room。 One morning two children pushed open the door and were startled at the sight of a filthy and hairy man who was still deciphering the parchments on the worktable。 They did not dare go in； but they kept on watching the room。 They would peep in through the cracks； whispering； they threw live animals in through the transom； and on one occasion they nailed up the door and the window and it took Aureliano half a day to force them open。 Amused at their unpunished mischief； four of the children went into the room one morning while Aureliano was in the kitchen； preparing to destroy the parchments。 But as soon as they laid hands on the yellowed sheets an angelic force lifted them off the ground and held them suspended in the air until Aureliano returned and took the parchments away from them。 From then on they did not bother him。
The four oldest children； who wore short pants in spite of the fact that they were on the threshold of adolescence； busied themselves with Jos？Arcadio’s personal appearance。 They would arrive earlier than the others and spend the morning shaving him； giving him massages with hot towels； cutting and polishing the nails on his hands and feet； and perfuming him with toilet water。 On several occasions they would get into the pool to soap him from head to toe as he floated on his back thinking about Amaranta。 Then they would dry him； powder his body； and dress him。 One of the children； who had curly blond hair and eyes of pink glass like a rabbit； was accustomed to sleeping in the house。 The bonds that linked him to Jos？Arcadio were so strong that he would acpany him in his asthmatic insomnia； without speaking； strolling through the house with him in the darkness。 One night in the room where ？rsula had slept they saw a yellow glow ing through the crumbling cement as if an underground sun had changed the floor of the room into a pane of glass。 They did not have to turn on the light。 It was sufficient to lift the broken slabs in the corner where ？rsula’s bed had always stood and where the glow was most intense to find the secret crypt that Aureliano Segundo had worn himself out searching for during the delirium of his excavations。 There were the three canvas sacks closed with copper wire； and inside of them the seven thousand two hundred fourteen pieces of eight； which continued glowing like embers in the darkness。
The discovery of the treasure was like a deflagration。 Instead of returning to Rome with the sudden fortune； which had been his dream maturing in misery； Jos？Arcadio converted the house into a decadent paradise。 He replaced the curtains and the canopy of the bed with new velvet； and he had the bathroom floor covered with paving stones and the walls with tiles。 The cupboard in the dining room was filled with fruit preserves； hams； and pickles； and the unused pantry was opened again for the storage of wines and liqueurs which Jos？Arcadio himself brou