ourished on the antique vest that he never took off； and his breath exhaled the odor of a sleeping animal。 Aureliano ended up forgetting about him； absorbed in the position of his poems； but on one occasion he thought he understood something of what Melquíades was saying in his groping monologues； and he paid attention。 In reality； the only thing that could be isolated in the rocky paragraphs was the insistent hammering on the word equinox； equinox； equinox； and the name of Alexander von Humboldt。 Arcadio got a little closer to him when he began to help Aureliano in his silverwork。 Melquíades answered that effort at munication at times by giving forth with phrases in Spanish that had very little to do with reality。 One afternoon； however； he seemed to be illuminated by a sudden emotion。 Years later； facing the firing squad； Arcadio would remember the trembling with which Melquíades made him listen to several pages of his impenetrable writing； which of course he did not understand； but which when read aloud were like encyclicals being chanted。 Then he smiled for the first time in a long while and said in Spanish： “When I die； burn mercury in my room for three days。？Arcadio told that to Jos？Arcadio Buendía and the latter tried to get more explicit information； but he received only one answer： “I have found immortality。？When Melquíades？breathing began to smell； Arcadio took him to bathe in the river on Thursday mornings。 He seemed to get better。 He would undress and get into the water with the boys； and his mysterious sense of orientation would allow him to avoid the deep and dangerous spots。 “We e from the water；？he said on a certain occasion。 Much time passed in that way without anyone’s seeing him in the house except on the night when he made a pathetic effort to fix the pianola； and when he would go to the river with Arcadio； carrying under his arm a gourd and a bar of palm oil soap wrapped in a towel。 One Thursday before they called him to go to the river； Aureliano heard him say： “I have died of fever on the dunes of Singapore。？That day he went into the water at a bad spot and they did not find him until the following day； a few miles downstream； washed up on a bright bend in the river and with a solitary vulture sitting on his stomach。 Over the scandalized protests of ？rsula； who wept with more grief than she had had for her own father； Jos？Arcadio Buendía was opposed to their burying him。 “He is immortal；？he said； “and he himself revealed the formula of his resurrection。？He brought out the forgotten water pipe and put a kettle of mercury to boil next to the body； which little by little was filling with blue bubbles。 Don Apolinar Moscote ventured to remind him that an unburied drowned man was a danger to public health。 “None of that； because he’s alive；？was the answer of Jos？Arcadio Buendía； who finished the seventy…two hours with the mercurial incense as the body was already beginning to burst with a livid fluorescence； the soft whistles of which impregnated the house with a pestilential vapor。 Only then did he permit them to bury him； not in any ordinary way； but with the honors reserved for Macondo’s greatest benefactor。 It was the first burial and the best…attended one that was ever seen in the town； only surpassed； a century later； by Big Mama’s funeral carnival。 They buried him in a grave dug in the center of the plot destined for the cemetery； with a stone on which they wrote the only thing they knew about him： MELQU？ADES。 They gave him his nine nights of wake。 In the tumult that gathered in the courtyard to drink coffee； tell jokes； and play cards。 Amaranta found a chance to confess her love to Pietro Crespi； who a few weeks before had formalized his promise to Rebeca and had set up a store for musical instruments and mechanical toys in the same section where the Arabs had lingered in other times sping knickknacks for macaws； and which the people called the Street of the Turks。 The Italian； whose head covered with patent leather curls aroused in women an irrepressible need to sigh； dealt with Amaranta as with a capricious little girl who was not worth taking seriously。
“I have a younger brother；？he told her。 “He’s ing to help me in the store。？
Amaranta felt humiliated and told Pietro Crespi with a virulent anger that she was prepared to stop her sister’s wedding even if her own dead body had to lie across the door。 The Italian was so impressed by the dramatics of the threat that he could not resist the temptation to mention it to Rebeca。 That was how Amaranta’s trip； always put off by ？rsula’s work； was arranged in less than a week。 Amaranta put up no resistance； but when she kissed Rebeca good…bye she whispered in her ear：
“Don’t get your hopes up。 Even if they send me to the ends of the earth I’ll find some way of stopping you from getting married； even if I have to kill you。？
With the absence of ？rsula； with the invisible presence of Melquíades； who continued his stealthy shuffling through the rooms； the house seemed enormous and empty。 Rebeca took charge of domestic order； while the Indian woman took care of the bakery。 At dusk； when Pietro Crespi would arrive； preceded by a cool breath of lavender and always bringing a toy as a gift； his fiancée would receive the visitor in the main parlor with doors and windows open to be safe from any suspicion。 It was an unnecessary precaution； for the Italian had shown himself to be so respectful that he did not even touch the hand of the woman who was going to be his wife within the year。 Those visits were filling the house with remarkable toys。 Mechanical ballerinas； music boxes； acrobatic monkeys； trotting horses； clowns who played the tambourine： the rich and startling mechanical fauna that Pietro Crespi brought dissipated Jos？Arcadio Buendía’s affliction over the death of Melquíades and carried him back to his old days as an alchemist。 He lived at that time in a paradise of disemboweled animals； of mechanisms that had been taken apart in an attempt to perfect them with a system of perpetual motion based upon the principles of the pendulum。 Aureliano； for his part； had neglected the workshop in order to teach little Remedios to read and write。 At first the child preferred her dolls to the man who would e every afternoon and who was responsible for her being separated from her toys in order to be bathed and dressed and seated in the parlor to receive the visitor。 But Aureliano’s patience and devotion finally won her over； up to the point where she would spend many hours with him studying the meaning of the letters and sketching in a notebook with colored pencils little houses with cows in the corral and round suns with yellow rays that hid behind the hills。
Only Rebeca was unhappy； because of Amaranta’s threat。 She knew her sister’s character； the haughtiness of her spirit； and she was frightened by the virulence of her anger。 She would spend whole hours sucking her finger in the bathroom； holding herself back with an exhausting iron will so as not to eat earth。 In search of some relief for her uncertainty； she called Pilar Ternera to read her future。 After a string of conventional vagaries； Pilar Ternera predicted：
“You will not be happy as long as your parents remain unburied。？
Rebeca shuddered。 As in the memory of a dream she saw herself entering the house as a very small girl； with the trunk and the little rocker； and a bag whose contents she had never known。 She remembered a bald gentleman dressed in linen and with his collar closed by a gold button； who had nothing to do with the king of hearts。 She remembered a very young and beautiful woman with warm and perfumed hands； who had nothing in mon with the jack of diamonds and his rheumatic hands； and who used to put flowers in her hair and take her out walking in the afternoon through a town with green streets。
“I don’t understand；？she said。
Pilar Ternera seemed disconcerted：
“I don’t either； but that’s what the cards say。？
Rebeca was so preoccupied with the enigma that she told it to Jos？Arcadio Buendía； and he scolded her for believing in the predictions of the cards； but he undertook the silent task of searching closets and trunks； moving furniture and turning over beds and floorboards looking for the bag of bones。 He remembered that he had not seen it since the time of the rebuilding。 He secretly summoned the masons and one of them revealed that he had walled up the bag in some bedroom because it bothered him in his work。 After several days of listening； with their ears against the walls； they perceived the deep cloc…cloc。 They penetrated the wall and there were the bones in the intact bag。 They buried it the same day in a grave without a stone next to that of Melquíades； and Jos？Arcadio Buendía returned home free of a burden that for a moment had weighed on his conscience as much as the memory of Prudencio Aguilar。 When he went through the kitchen he kissed Rebeca on the forehead。
“Get those bad thoughts out of your head；？he told her。 “You’re going to be happy。？
The friendship with Rebeca opened up to Pilar Ternera the doors of the house； closed by ？rsula since the birth of Arcadio。 She would arrive at any hour of the day； like a flock of goats； and would unleash her feverish energy in the hardest tasks。 Sometimes she would go into the workshop and help Arcadio sensitize the daguerreotype plates with an efficiency and a tenderness that ended up by confusing him。 That woman bothered him。 The tan of her skin； her smell of smoke； the disorder of her laughter in the darkroom distracted his attention and made him bump into things。
On a certain occasion Aureliano was there working on his silver； and Pilar Ternera leaned over the table to admire his laborious patience。 Suddenly it happened。 Aureliano made sure that Arcadio was in the darkroom before raising his eyes and meeting those of Pilar Ternera； whose thought was perfectly visible； as if exposed to the light of noon。
“Well；？Aureliano said。 “Tell me what it is。？
Pilar Ternera bit her lips with a sad smile。
“That you’d be good in a war；？she said。 “Where you put your eye； you put your bullet。？
Aureliano relaxed with the proof of the omen。 He went back to conc