A month after the scenes we have described, Marisalada was more
sensible, and did not show the least desire to return to her father's.
Stein was completely re-established; his good-natured character, his
modest inclinations, his natural sympathies, attached him every day more
to the peaceful habits of the simple and generous persons among whom he
dwelt. He felt relieved from his former discouragements, and his mind
was invigorated; he was cordially resigned to his present existence, and
to the men with whom he associated.
One afternoon, Stein, leaning against an angle of the convent which
faced the sea, admired the grand spectacle which the opening of the
winter season presented to his view. Above his head floated a triple bed
of sombre clouds, forced along by the impetuous wind. Those lower down,
black and heavy, seemed like the cupola of an ancient cathedral in
ruins, threatening at each instant to sink down. When reduced to water
they fell to the ground. There was visible the second bed, less sombre
and lighter, defying the wind which chased them, and which separating at
intervals sought other clouds, more coquettish and more vaporous, which
they hurried into space, as if they feared to soil their white robes by
coming in contact with their companions.
"Are you a sponge, Don Frederico, so to like to receive all the water
which falls from heaven?" demanded Jose, the shepherd of Stein. "Let us
enter; the roofs are made expressly for such nights as these. My sheep
would give much to shelter themselves under some tiles."
Stein and the shepherd entered, and found the family assembled around
the hearth.
At the left of the chimney, Dolores, seated on a low chair, held her
infant; who, turning his back to his mother, supported himself on the
arm which encircled him like the balustrade of a balcony; he moved about
incessantly his little legs and his small bare arms, laughing and
uttering joyous cries addressed to his brother Anis. This brother,
gravely seated opposite the fire on the edge of an empty earthen pan,
remained stiff and motionless, fearing that losing his equilibrium he
would be tossed into the said earthen pan--an accident which his mother
had predicted.
Maria was sewing at the right side of the chimney; her granddaughters
had for seats dry aloe leaves,--excellent seats, light, solid, and sure.
Nearly under the drapery of the chimney-piece slept the hairy Palomo and
a cat, the grave Morrongo,--tolerated from necessity, but remaining by
common consent at a respectful distance from each other.
In the middle of this group there was a little low table, on which
burned a lamp of four jets; close to the table the Brother Gabriel was
seated, making baskets of the palm-tree; Momo was engaged in repairing
the harness of the good "Swallow" (the ass); and Manuel, cutting up
tobacco. On the fire was conspicuous a stew-pan full of Malaga potatoes,
white wine, honey, cinnamon, and cloves. The humble family waited with
impatience till the perfumed stew should be sufficiently cooked.
"Come on! Come on!" cried Maria, when she saw her guest and the shepherd
enter. "What are you doing outside in weather like this? 'Tis said a
hurricane has come to destroy the world. Don Frederico, here, here! come
near the fire. Do you know that the invalid has supped like a princess,
and that at present she sleeps like a queen! Her cure progresses
well--is it not so, Don Frederico?"
"Her recovery surpasses my hopes."
"My soups!" added Maria with pride.
"And the ass's milk," said Brother Gabriel quietly.
"There is no doubt," replied Stein; "and she ought to continue to take
it."
"I oppose it not," said Maria, "because ass's milk is like the
turnip--if it does no good it does no harm."
"Ah! how pleasant it is here!" said Stein, caressing the children. "If
one could only live in the enjoyment of the present, without thought of
the future!"
"Yes, yes, Don Frederico," joyfully cried Manuel, "'_Media vida es la
candela; pan y vino, la otra media._'" (Half of life is the candle;
bread and wine are the other half.)
"And what necessity have you to dream of the future?" asked Maria. "Will
the morrow make us the more love to-day? Let us occupy ourselves with
to-day, so as not to render painful the day to come."
"Man is a traveler," replied Stein; "he must follow his route."
"Certainly," replied Maria, "man is a traveler; but if he arrives in a
quarter where he finds himself well off, he would say, 'We are well
here; put up our tents.'"
"If you wish us to lose our evening by talking of traveling," said
Dolores, "we will believe that we have offended you, or that you are not
pleased here."
"Who speaks of traveling in the middle of December?" demanded Manuel.
"Goodness of heaven! Do you not see what disasters there are every day
on the sea?--hear the singing of the wind! Will you embark in this
weather, as you were embarked in the war of Navarre? for as then, you
would come out mortified and ruined."
"Besides," added Maria, "the invalid is not yet entirely cured."
"Ah! there," said Dolores, besieged by the children, "if you will not
call off these creatures, the potatoes will not be cooked until the Last
Judgment."
The grandmother rolled the spinning-wheel to the corner, and called the
little infants to her.
"We will not go," they replied with one voice, "if you will not tell us
a story."
"Come, I will tell you one," said the good old woman. The children
approached. Anis took up his position on the empty earthen pot, and the
grandma commenced a story to amuse the little children.
She had hardly finished the relation of this story when a great noise
was heard. The dog rose up, pointed his ears, and put himself on the
defensive. The cat bristled her hair and prepared to fly. But the
succeeding laugh very soon was frightful: it was Anis, who fell asleep
during the recital of his grandmother. It happened that the prophecy of
his mother was fulfilled as to his falling into the earthen pan, where
all his little person disappeared except his legs, which stuck out like
plants of a new species. His mother, rendered impatient, seized with one
hand the collar of his vest, raised him out of this depth, and despite
his resistance held him suspended in the air for some time--in the style
represented in those card dancing-jacks, which move arms and legs when
you pull the thread which holds them.
As his mother scolded him, and everybody laughed at him, Anis, who had a
brave spirit,--a thing natural in an infant,--burst out into a groan
which had nothing of timidity in it.
"Don't weep, Anis," said Paca, "and I will give you two chestnuts that I
have in my pocket."
"True?" demanded Anis.
Paca took out the two chestnuts, and gave them to him. Instead of tears,
they saw promptly shine with joy the two rows of white teeth of the
young boy.
"Brother Gabriel," said Maria, "did you not speak to me of a pain in
your eyes? Why do you work this evening?"
"I said truly," answered brother Gabriel; "but Don Frederico gave me a
remedy which cured me."
"Don Frederico must know many remedies, but he does not know that one
which never misses its effect," said the shepherd.
"If you know it, have the kindness to tell me," replied Stein.
"I am unable to tell you," replied the shepherd. "I know that it exists,
and that is all."
"Who knows it then?" demanded Stein.
"The swallows," said Jose.
"The swallows?"
"Yes, sir. It is an herb which is called 'pito-real,' which nobody sees
or knows except the swallows: when their little ones lose their sight
the parents rub their eyes with the pito-real, and cure them. This herb
has also the virtue to cut iron--everything it touches."
"What absurdities this Jose swallows without chewing, like a real
shark!" interrupted Manuel, laughing. "Don Frederico, do you comprehend
what he said and believes as an article of faith? He believes and says
that snakes never die."
"No, they never die," replied the shepherd. "When they see death coming
they escape from their skin, and run away. With age they become
serpents; little by little they are covered with scales and wings: they
become dragons, and return to the desert. But you, Manuel, you do not
wish to believe anything. Do you deny also that the lizard is the enemy
of the woman, and the friend of man? If you do not believe it, ask then
of Miguel."
"He knows it?"
"Without doubt, by experience."
"Whence did he learn it?" demanded Stein.
"He was sleeping in the field," replied Jose. "A snake glided near him.
A lizard, which was in the furrow, saw it coming, and presented himself
to defend Miguel. The lizard, which was of large form, fought with the
snake. But Miguel not awaking, the lizard pressed his tail against the
nose of the sleeper, and ran off as if his paws were on fire. The lizard
is a good little beast, who has good desires; he never sleeps in the sun
without descending the wall to kiss the earth."
When the conversation commenced on the subject of swallows, Paca said to
Anis, who was seated among his sisters, with his legs crossed like a
Grand Turk in miniature, "Anis, do you know what the swallows say?"
"I? No. They have never spoken to me."
"Attend then: they say--" the little girl imitated the chirping of
swallows, and began to sing with volubility:--
"To eat and to drink!
And to loan when you may;
But 'tis madness to think
This loan to repay.
Flee, flee, pretty swallow, the season demands,
Fly swift on the wing, and reach other lands."
"Is it for that they are sold?"
"For that," affirmed his sister.
During this time Dolores, carrying her infant in one hand, with the
other spread the table, served the potatoes, and distributed to each one
his part. The children ate from her plate, and Stein remarked that she
did not even touch the dish she had prepared with so much care.
"You do not eat, Dolores?" he said to her.
"Do you not know the saying," she replied laughing, "'He who has
children at his side will never die of indigestion,' Don Frederico? What
they eat nourishes me."
Momo, who found himself beside this group, drew away his plate, so that
his brothers would not have the temptation to ask him for its contents.
His father, who remarked it, said to him:--
"Don't be avaricious; it is a shameful vice: be not avaricious; avarice
is an abject vice. Know that one day an avaricious man fell into the
river. A peasant who saw it, ran to pull him out; he stretched out his
arm, and cried to him, 'Give me your hand!' What had he to give? A
miser--give! Before giving him anything he allowed himself to be swept
down by the current. By chance he floated near to a fisherman: 'Take my
hand!' he said to him. As it was a question of taking, our man was
willing, and he escaped danger."
"It is not such wit you should relate to your son, Manuel," said Maria.
"You ought to set before him, for example, the bad rich man, who would
give to the unfortunate neither a morsel of bread nor a glass of water.
'God grant,' answered the beggar to him, 'that all that you touch
changes to this silver which you so hold to.' The wish of the beggar was
realized. All that the miser had in his house was changed into metals as
hard as his heart. Tormented by hunger and thirst, he went into the
country, and having perceived a fountain of pure water, clear as
crystal, he approached with longing to taste it; but the moment his lips
touched it the water was turned to silver. He would take an orange and
the orange was changed to gold. He thus died in a frenzy of rage and
fury, cursing what he had desired."
Manuel, the strongest minded man in the assembly, bowed down his head.
"Manuel," his mother said to him, "you imagine that we ought not to
believe but what is a fundamental article, and that credulity is common
only to the imbecile. You are mistaken: men of good sense are
credulous."
"But, my mother, between belief and doubt there is a medium."
"And why," replied the good old woman, "laugh at faith, which is the
first of all virtues? How will it appear to you if I say to you, 'I have
given birth to you, I have educated you, I have guided your earliest
steps--I have fulfilled my obligations!' Is the love of a mother nothing
but an obligation? What say you?"
"I would reply that you are not a good mother."
"Well, my son, apply that to what we were speaking of: he who does not
believe except from obligation, and only for that, cannot cease to
believe without being a renegade, a bad Christian; as I would be a bad
mother if I loved you only from obligation."
"Brother Gabriel," interrupted Dolores, "why will you not taste my
potatoes?"
"It is a fast-day," replied Brother Gabriel.
"Nonsense! There is no longer convent, nor rules, nor fasts," cavalierly
said Manuel, to induce the poor old man to participate in the general
repast. "Besides, you have accomplished sixty years: put away these
scruples, and you will not be damned for having eaten our potatoes."
"Pardon me," replied Brother Gabriel, "but I ought to fast as formerly,
inasmuch as the Father Prior has not given me a dispensation."
"Well done, Brother Gabriel!" added Maria; "Manuel shall not be the
demon tempter with his rebellious spirit, to incite you to gormandize."
Upon this, the good old woman rose up and locked up in a closet the
plate which Dolores had served to the monk.
"I will keep it here for you until to-morrow morning, Brother Gabriel."
Supper finished, the men, whose habit was always to keep their hats on
in the house, uncovered, and Maria said grace.