s head； not understanding where the hot liquid that burned his thighs was pouring from。
“Bastards！？he shouted。 “Long live the Liberal Party！？
Chapter 7
THE WAR was over in May。 Two weeks before the government made the official announcement in a high…sounding proclamation； which promised merciless punishment for those who had started the rebellion； Colonel Aureliano Buendía fell prisoner just as he was about to reach the western frontier disguised as an Indian witch doctor。 Of the twenty…one men who had followed him to war； fourteen fell in bat； six were wounded； and only one acpanied him at the moment of final defeat： Colonel Gerineldo Márquez。 The news of his capture was announced in Macondo with a special proclamation。 “He’s alive；？？rsula told her husband。 “Let’s pray to God for his enemies to show him clemency。？After three days of weeping； one afternoon as she was stirring some sweet milk candy in the kitchen she heard her son’s voice clearly in her ear。 “It was Aureliano； ？she shouted； running toward the chestnut tree to tell her husband the news。 “I don’t know how the miracle took place； but he’s alive and we’re going to see him very soon。？She took it for granted。 She had the floors of the house scrubbed and changed the position of the furniture。 One week later a rumor from somewhere that was not supported by any proclamation gave dramatic confirmation to the prediction。 Colonel Aureliano Buendía had been condemned to death and the sentence would be carried out in Macondo as a lesson to the population。 On Monday； at ten…thirty in the morning； Amaranta was dressing Aureliano Jos？when she heard the sound of a distant troop and the blast of a cornet one second before ？rsula burst into the room with the shout： “They’re bringing him now！？The troop struggled to subdue the overflowing crowd with their rifle butts。 ？rsula and Amaranta ran to the corner； pushing their way through； and then they saw him。 He looked like a beggar。 His clothing was torn； his hair and beard were tangled； and he was barefoot。 He was walking without feeling the burning dust； his hands tied behind his back with a rope that a mounted officer had attached to the head of his horse。 Along with him； also ragged and defeated； they were bringing Colonel Gerineldo Márquez。 They were not sad。 They seemed more disturbed by the crowd that was shouting all kinds of insults at the troops。
“My son！？？rsula shouted in the midst of the uproar； and she slapped the soldier who tried to hold her back。 The officer’s horse reared。 Then Colonel Aureliano Buendía stopped； tremulous； avoided the arms of his mother； and fixed a stern look on her eyes。
“Go home； Mama；？he said。 “Get permission from the authorities to e see me in jail。？
He looked at Amaranta； who stood indecisively two steps behind ？rsula； and he smiled as he asked her； “What happened to your hand？？Amaranta raised the hand with the black bandage。 “A burn；？she said； and took ？rsula away so that the horses would not run her down。 The troop took off。 A special guard surrounded the prisoners and took them to the jail at a trot。
At dusk ？rsula visited Colonel Aureliano Buendía in jail。 She had tried to get permission through Don Apolinar Moscote； but he had lost all authority in the face of the military omnipotence。 Father Nicanor was in bed with hepatic fever。 The parents of Colonel Gerineldo Márquez； who had not been condemned to death； had tried to see him and were driven off with rifle butts。 Facing the impossibility of finding anyone to intervene； convinced that her son would be shot at dawn； ？rsula wrapped up the things she wanted to bring him and went to the jail alone。
“I am the mother of Colonel Aureliano Buendía；？she announced。
The sentries blocked her way。 “I’m going in in any case；？？rsula warned them。 “So if you have orders to shoot； start right in。？She pushed one of them aside and went into the former classroom； where a group of half…dressed soldiers were oiling their weapons。 An officer in a field uniform； ruddy…faced； with very thick glasses and ceremonious manners； signaled to the sentries to withdraw。
“I am the mother of Colonel Aureliano Buendía；？？rsula repeated。
“You must mean；？the officer corrected with a friendly smile； “that you are the mother of Mister Aureliano Buendía。？？rsula recognized in his affected way of speaking the languid cadence of the stuck…up people from the highlands。
“As you say； mister；？she accepted； “just as long as I can see him。？
There were superior orders that prohibited visits to prisoners condemned to death； but the officer assumed the responsibility of letting her have a fifteen…minute stay。 ？rsula showed him what she had in the bundle： a change of clean clothing； the short boots that her son had worn at his wedding； and the sweet milk candy that she had kept for him since the day she had sensed his return。 She found Colonel Aureliano Buendía in the room that was used as a cell； lying on a cot with his arms spread out because his armpits were paved with sores。 They had allowed him to shave。 The thick mustache with twisted ends accentuated the sharp angles of his cheekbones。 He looked paler to ？rsula than when he had left； a little taller； and more solitary than ever。 He knew all about the details of the house： Pietro Crespi’s suicide； Arcadio’s arbitrary acts and execution。 the dauntlessness of Jos？Arcadio Buendía underneath the chestnut tree。 He knew that Amaranta had consecrated her virginal widowhood to the rearing of Aureliano Jos？and that the latter was beginning to show signs of quite good judgment and that he had learned to read and write at the same time he had learned to speak。 From the moment In which she entered the room ？rsula felt inhibited by the maturity of her son； by his aura of mand； by the glow of authority that radiated from his skin。 She was surprised that he was so well…informed。 “You knew all along that I was a wizard；？he joked。 And he added in a serious tone； “This morning； when they brought me here； I had the impression that I had already been through all that before。？In fact； while the crowd was roaring alongside him； he had been concentrating his thoughts； startled at how the town had aged。 The leaves of the almond trees were broken。 The houses； painted blue； then painted red； had ended up with an indefinable coloration。
“What did you expect？？？rsula sighed。 “Time passes。？
“That’s how it goes；？Aureliano admitted； “but not so much。？
In that way the long…awaited visit； for which both had prepared questions and had even anticipated answers； was once more the usual everyday conversation。 When the guard announced the end of the visit； Aureliano took out a roll of sweaty papers from under the cot。 They were his poetry； the poems inspired by Remedios； which he had taken with him when he left； and those he had written later on during chance pauses in the war。 “Promise me that no one will read them；？he said。 “Light the oven with them this very night。？？rsula promised and stood up to kiss him good…bye。
“I brought you a revolver；？she murmured。
Colonel Aureliano Buendía saw that the sentry could not see。 “It won’t do me any good；？he said in a low voice； “but give it to me in case they search you on the way out。？？rsula took the revolver out of her bodice and put it under the mattress of the cot。 “And don’t say good…bye；？he concluded with emphatic calmness。 “Don’t beg or bow down to anyone。 Pretend that they shot me a long time ago。？？rsula bit her lip so as not to cry。
“Put some hot stones on those sores；？she said。
She turned halfway around and left the room。 Colonel Aureliano Buendía remained standing； thoughtful； until the door closed。 Then he lay down again with his arms open。 Since the beginning of adolescence； when he had begun to be aware of his premonitions； he thought that death would be announced with a definite； unequivocal； irrevocable signal； but there were only a few hours left before he would die and the signal had not e。 On a certain occasion a very beautiful woman had e into his camp in Tucurinca and asked the sentries？permission to see him。 They let her through because they were aware of the fanaticism of mothers； who sent their daughters to the bedrooms of the most famous warriors； according to what they said； to improve the breed。 That night Colonel Aureliano Buendía was finishing the poem about the man who is lost in the rain when the girl came into his room。 He turned his back to her to put the sheet of paper into the locked drawer where he kept his poetry。 And then he sensed it。 He grasped the pistol in the drawer without turning his head。
“Please don’t shoot；？he said。
When he turned around holding his Pistol； the girl had lowered hers and did not know what to do。 In that way he had avoided four out of eleven traps。 On the other hand； someone who was never caught entered the revolutionary headquarters one night in Manaure and stabbed to death his close friend Colonel Magnífico Visbal； to whom he had given his cot so that he could sweat out a fever。 A few yards away； sleeping in a hammock in the same room。 he was not aware of anything。 His efforts to systematize his premonitions were useless。 They would e sud