“Actually, I didn’t have anything in particular to do in Alicante, but I passed several of those inexpressibly sweet nights there, when the moon rises over the castle of Santa Barbara and throws the harbor into an uncanny chiaroscura. On such nights the German heart beats with a lyrical romanticism.
“My first sight of the town brought memories of the Walzer brothers and their strange establishment flooding back to me. I know it might be hindsight or imagination, but it does seem to me that my mule turned very unwillingly at the Algorfe Palace as I drove down toward the harbor. In one of the old streets where mostly sailors live I found the place I sought.
“Severo Ancosta’s inn was a crooked little building with large balconies, stuck in between other similar establishments. The innkeeper, friendly and chatty, gave me a room with a wonderful view of the sea, and I looked forward to enjoying a week of undisturbed beauty. That is until the next day when I saw Severo’s daughter, Lolita.
“By our northern standards she was terribly young, with veiled southern eyes and hair of an unusual reddish gold. Her body was boyishly slim and supple and her voice was full and dark. But there was something more than her beauty that attracted me — there was a strange mystery about her that troubled me often on those moonlit nights.
“Sometimes when she came into my room to tidy up, she would pause in her work, her red laughing smile compressed into a narrow line, and she would stare with fear into the sunlight. Her bearing was that of a great tragedienne’s Iphigenia. I would take the child in my arms and feel an imperative need to protect her from some unknown danger.
“There were days when Lolita’s big shy eyes regarded me with an unspoken question, and there were evenings when I saw her break into sudden uncontrollable sobs.
“I had ceased to think of travelling on. I was entranced by the South — and Lolita.
“Golden hot days and silvery melancholy nights.
“And then, one time, the unforgettable reality and dreamlike unreality as Lolita sat on my balcony, and sang softly, as she often did. But this time she came to me with halting steps on the landing, the guitar discarded precipitously on the floor. And while her eyes sought out the image of the flickering moon in the water, like a pleading child she flung her trembling little arms around my neck, leaned her head on my chest, and began sobbing. There were tears in her eyes, but her sweet mouth was laughing.
“Then the miracle happened. ‘You are so strong,’ she whispered.
“Days and nights came and went… my beauty kept her secret in a song of imperturbable serenity.
“The days turned into weeks and I realized that it was time to continue my travels. Not that any duty called me, but Lolita’s immense and dangerous love had begun to frighten me. When I told her this she gave me an indescribable look and nodded silently. Suddenly she seized my hand and bit me as hard as she could. Twenty-five years have not erased the marks of love she left on my hand.
“By the time I was able to speak Lolita had disappeared into the house. I only saw her one more time.
“That evening I spoke seriously with Severo about his daughter. ‘Come, sir,’ he said, ‘I have something to show you that will explain everything.’ He lead me into a room that was separated from my own by a door. I stood in amazement.
“In that plain room stood only a small table and three armchairs. But they were the same, or nearly the same, as the chairs in the Walzer brothers’ tavern. And I realized instantly that it had been Severo Ancosta’s house that I had dreamed of on the eve of my trip.
“There was a drawing of Lolita on the wall, which was so perfect that I went up to examine it more closely.
“‘You think that’s a picture of Lolita,’ laughed Severo, ‘but that is Lola, the grandmother of Lolita’s great-grandmother. It’s a hundred years since she was strangled during a fight between her two lovers.’
“We sat down and Severo in his genial manner told this story. He told me of Lola, who was the most beautiful woman of her time in the town, so beautiful that men died for love of her. Shortly after giving birth to a daughter, she was murdered by two of her lovers, whom she had driven to madness.
“‘And since that time a curse lies on the family. The women all give birth to a daughter, and within weeks of giving birth, they always go mad. And they were all beautiful — as beautiful as Lolita.’
“‘My wife died that way,’ he whispered, serious now, ‘and my daughter will die the same way.’
“I could hardly think of anything to say to comfort him, as I myself was overcome with fear for my little Lolita.
“That evening when I went to my room I found a small red flower that I could not identify on my pillow. Lolita’s farewell present, I thought and picked it up. Only then did I see that the flower was white, the red was Lolita’s blood. Such was her love.
“That night I couldn’t sleep. A thousand dreams pursued me. Then suddenly, it must have been close to midnight, I saw something frightful. The door to the next room was open, and sitting at the table in the middle of the room were three people. To the right and left were two strong young blond fellows and between them sat Lolita. No, probably not Lolita but Lola — or maybe it really was Lolita?
“On the table were glasses of dark red wine. The girl laughed out loud, uninhibitedly, and there was an insolence around her mouth. The two men picked up violins and began to play. I felt the blood in my veins pulse faster — I recognized the melody — the gavotte from the days of the Sun King. As the tune ended, the woman drank down her glass to the bottom and let out another bright silvery laugh.
“The young man who sat facing me lay down his violin on the table. ‘Now, tell us, which of us will you choose?’
“She laughed, ‘the handsomest — but you are both so handsome. You have a cold foreign beauty that we are not used to here.’
“Then the other one shouted even louder, ‘Him or me, tell us, woman, or by God…’
“‘You both love me,’ she said. ‘If your love is so great, then fight for me and I will ask the blessed Virgin to send me a sign to show which of you loves me most. Are you willing?’
“‘Yes,’ agreed the men and glared at each other.
“‘I will love the one who is strongest.’
“‘So they took off their jackets and their muscles swelled. But they were realized they were equally strong.
“‘I will love whoever is tallest.’ Their eyes flashed.
“And the men seemed to grow taller and taller, their necks lengthened and thickened, and their sleeves burst right down to the elbows. Their faces became so ugly and distorted, that I feared their bones would break. But not by so much as a hair was one larger than the other.
“Their fists came crashing down onto the table, and the violins jumped and then came a godforsaken cursing.
“‘I will love the eldest.’
“The hair fell from their heads, deep furrows spread across their faces, their hands trembled with weakness and their knees shook as they tried with great fatigue to raise themselves to their full height. Their poisonous glances became feeble and the roaring cries of rage turned to croaking.
“‘By God, woman,’ howled one of them, ‘speak once more or you will go to hell, you and your thrice-accursed beauty.’
“She fell forward laughing onto the table, and cried with streaming eyes, ‘I will love, yes, I will love the one who has the longest and ugliest beard!’