rain loaded with corpses traveling toward the sea either。 The night before he had read an extraordinary proclamation to the nation which said that the workers had left the station and had returned home in peaceful groups。 The proclamation also stated that the union leaders； with great patriotic spirit； had reduced their demands to two points： a reform of medical services and the building of latrines in the living quarters。 It was stated later that when the military authorities obtained the agreement with the workers； they hastened to tell Mr。 Brown and he not only accepted the new conditions but offered to pay for three days of public festivities to celebrate the end of the conflict。 Except that when the military asked him on what date they could announce the signing of the agreement； he looked out the window at the sky crossed with lightning flashes and made a profound gesture of doubt。
“When the rain stops；？he said。 “As long as the rain lasts we’re suspending all activities。？
It had not rained for three months and there had been a drought。 But when Mr。 Brown announced his decision a torrential downpour spread over the whole banana region。 It was the one that caught Jos？Arcadio Segundo on his way to Macondo。 A week later it was still raining。 The official version； repeated a thousand times and mangled out all over the country by every means of munication the government found at hand； was finally accepted： there were no dead； the satisfied workers had gone back to their families； and the banana pany was suspending all activity until the rains stopped。 Martial law continued with an eye to the necessity of taking emergency measures for the public disaster of the endless downpour； but the troops were confined to quarters。 During the day the soldiers walked through the torrents in the streets with their pant legs rolled up； playing with boats with the children。 At night after taps； they knocked doors down with their rifle butts； hauled suspects out of their beds； and took them off on trips from which there was no return。 The search for and extermination of the hoodlums； murderers； arsonists； and rebels of Decree No。 4 was still going on； but the military denied it even to the relatives of the victims who crowded the mandant’s offices in search of news。 “You must have been dreaming；？the officers insisted。 “Nothing has happened in Macondo； nothing has ever happened； and nothing ever will happen。 “This is a happy town。？In that way they were finally able to wipe out the union leaders。
The only survivor was Jos？Arcadio Segundo。 One February night the unmistakable blows of rifle butts were heard at the door。 Aureliano Segundo； who was still waiting for it to clear； opened the door to six soldiers under the mand of an officer。 Soaking from the rain； without saying a word； they searched the house room by room； closet by closet； from parlor to pantry。 ？rsula woke up when they turned on the light in her room and she did not breathe while the march went on but held her fingers in the shape of a cross； pointing them to where the soldiers were moving about。 Santa Sofía de la Piedad managed to warn Jos？Arcadio Segundo； who was sleeping in Melquíades？room； but he could see that it was too late to try to escape。 So Santa Sofía de la Piedad locked the door again and he put on his shirt and his shoes and sat down on the cot to wait for them。 At that moment they were searching the gold workshop。 The officer made them open the padlock and with a quick sweep of his lantern he saw the workbench and the glass cupboard with bottles of acid and instruments that were still where their owner had left them and he seemed to understand that no one lived in that room。 He wisely asked Aureliano Segundo if he was a silversmith； however； and the latter explained to him that it had been Colonel Aureliano Buendía’s workshop。 “Oho；？the officer said； turned on the lights； and ordered such a minute search that they did not miss the eighteen little gold fishes that had not been melted down and that were hidden behind the bottles Is their tin can。 The officer examined them one by one on the workbench and then he turned human。 “I’d like to take one； if I may；？he said。 “At one time they were a mark of subversion； but now they’re relics。？He was young； almost an adolescent； with no sign of timidity and with a natural pleasant manner that had not shown itself until then。 Aureliano Segundo gave him the little fish。 The officer put it in his shirt pocket with a childlike glow in his eyes and he put the others back in the can and set it back where it had been。
“It’s a wonderful memento；？he said。 “Colonel Aureliano Buendía was one of our greatest men。？
Nevertheless； that surge of humanity did not alter his professional conduct。 At Melquíades？room； which was locked up again with the padlock； Santa Sofía de la Piedad tried one last hope。 “No one has lived in that room for a century；？she said。 The officer had it opened and flashed the beam of the lantern over it； and Aureliano Segundo and Santa Sofía de la Piedad saw the Arab eyes of Jos？Arcadio Segundo at the moment when the ray of light passed over his face and they understood that it was the end of one anxiety and the beginning of another which would find relief only in resignation。 But the officer continued examining the room with the lantern and showed no sign of interest until he discovered the seventy…two chamberpots piled up in the cupboards。 Then he turned on the light。 Jos？Arcadio Segundo was sitting on the edge of the cot； ready to go； more solemn and pensive than ever。 In the background were the shelves with the shredded books； the rolls of parchment； and the clean and orderly worktable with the ink still fresh in the inkwells。 There was the same pureness in the air； the same clarity； the same respite from dust and destruction that Aureliano Segundo had known in childhood and that only Colonel Aureliano Buendía could not perceive。 But the officer was only interested in the chamberpots。
“How many people live in this house？？he asked。
“Five。？
The officer obviously did not understand。 He paused with his glance on the space where Aureliano Segundo and Santa Soft de la Piedad were still seeing Jos？Arcadio Segundo and the latter also realized that the soldier was looking at him without seeing him。 Then he turned out the light and closed the door。 When he spoke to the soldiers； Aureliano； Segundo understood that the young officer had seen the room with the same eyes as Colonel Aureliano Buendía。
“It’s obvious that no one has been in that room for at least a hundred years。？the officer said to the soldiers。 “There must even be snakes in there。？
When the door closed； Jos？Arcadio Segundo was sure that the war was over。 Years before Colonel Aureliano Buendía had spoken to him about the fascination of war and had tried to show it to him with countless examples drawn from his own experience。 He had believed him。 But the night when the soldiers looked at him without seeing him while he thought about the tension of the past few months； the misery of jail； the panic at the station； and the train loaded with dead people； Jos？Arcadio Segundo reached the conclusion that Colonel Aureliano Buendía was nothing but a faker or an imbecile。 He could not understand why he had needed so many words to explain what he felt in war because one was enough： fear。 In Melquíades？room； on the other hand； protected by the supernatural light； by the sound of the rain； by the feeling of being invisible； he found the repose that he had not had for one single instant during his previous life； and the only fear that remained was that they would bury him alive。 He told Santa Sofía de la Piedad about it when she brought him his daily meals and she promised to struggle to stay alive even beyond her natural forces in order to make sure that they would bury him dead。 Free from all fear； Jos？Arcadio Segundo dedicated himself then to peruse the manuscripts of Melquíades many times； and with so much more pleasure when he could not understand them。 He became accustomed to the sound of the rain； which after two months had bee another form of silence； and the only thing that disturbed his solitude was the ing and going of Santa Sofía de la Piedad。 He asked her； therefore； to leave the meals on the windowsill and padlock the door。 The rest of the family forgot about him including Fernanda； who did not mind leaving him there when she found that the soldiers had seen him without recognizing him。 After six months of enclosure； since the soldiers had left Macondo Aureliano Segundo removed the padlock； looking for someone he could talk to until the rain stopped。 As soon as he opened the door he felt the pestilential attack of the chamberpots； which were placed on the floor and all of which had been used several times。 Jos？Arcadio Segundo； devoured by baldness； indifferent to the air that had been sharpened by the nauseating vapors； was still reading and rereading the unintelligible parchments。 He was illuminated by a seraphic glow。 He scarcely raised his eyes when he heard the door open； but that look was enough for his brother to see repeated in it the irreparable fate of his great…grandfather。
“There were more than three thousand of them；？was all that Jos？Arcadio Segundo said。 “I’m sure now that they were everybody who had been at the station。？
Chapter 16
IT RAINED FOR four years； eleven months； and two days。 There were periods of drizzle during which everyone put on his full dress and a convalescent look to celebrate the clearing； but the people soon grew accustomed to interpret the pauses as a sign of redoubled rain。 The sky crumbled into a set of destructive storms and out of the north came hurricanes that scattered roofs about and knocked down walls and uprooted every last plant of the banana groves。 Just as during the insomnia plague； as ？rsula came to remember during those days； the calamity itself inspired defenses against boredom。 Aureliano Segundo was one of those who worked hardest not to be conquered by idleness。 He had gone home for some minor matter on the night that Mr。 Brown unleashed the storm； and Fernanda tried to help him with a half…blown…out umbrella that she found in a closet。 “I don�