With a view to bring himself into harmony with his surroundings, he
appeared next day in his suit of fine blue cloth, which he had brought
with him in his bundle, together with sundry other articles, and what
money he had still remaining from the pay which he had received at Monte
Video. That he looked well in his handsome sailor dress was evident
enough, from the surprised look with which he was greeted by Federigo's
mother, when he was presented to her. She had evidently expected to see
in her son's friend something in the style of the raw Brazilian sailor,
a class of men who down there were generally drawn from the lowest dregs
of the populace.
She herself was a withered old woman, yellow as parchment, with a mass
of thick grey hair gathered in a single knot at the back of her head.
She wore heavy rings on her fingers, and large earrings; her small
piercing eyes had a look of burnt-out passion; and her countenance wore
in a stronger degree the furtive, ratlike expression which her son's
occasionally displayed.
As regards her further characteristics, Salvé soon perceived that she
was addicted to drink. She used to remain during the greater part of the
day on the shady side of the house, or on the little veranda, with
acachacas and water by her side, and incessantly smoking and rolling
cigarettes; and she was often quite drunk as she mumbled her Ave Maria,
and told her beads on her knees before going to bed in the evening.
Still the other inmates of the house appeared to have great respect for
her; and it was evident that she held the threads of whatever business
they might have on hand.
The señorita was out all the morning with the old mulatto woman, making
purchases for the house, Federigo said, and informing herself as to what
activity was being shown in their pursuit. When she returned, she
avoided addressing herself directly to Salvé; and he observed that she
handed over a quantity of money to her brother, which had the happy
effect of bringing into his countenance a more cheerful look than it had
hitherto worn that morning.
"What have you done to my sister?" Federigo asked one day, laughing;
"you are not in her good graces. She is dangerous," he said, seriously;
and added then, as if speculating on possibilities, "as long as you are
in this house, at all events, you are safe. But mind, you are warned."
Federigo soon began to weary of their enforced confinement to the house,
and in spite of his sister's efforts to dissuade him, began to go out in
the evenings, coming home very late, and in a gloomy, irritable
humour--evidently, from the casual remarks he let fall, having lost all
his money at play.
The second morning of his stay in the house Salvé had perceived that
there was a want of money; and having heard the brother and sister
quarrelling one day when both were in a bad humour, he thought it best
to carry out, at the first convenient moment, the determination at which
he had arrived, and handed over to Federigo what money he had, with the
exception of a single silver piastre, saying, "That it was only right he
should pay for his lodging and board."
The money, though deprecatingly, was still accepted, and in the evening
Federigo was out once more, his sister remaining at home.
She and Salvé, on account of their ignorance of each other's language,
could not hold much conversation together, and Salvé was rather glad of
this wall of separation between them, as it left him more at his ease.
She had, however, recently looked more often at him with a sort of
interest, and on several occasions had put questions to him through her
brother. Her range of ideas was apparently not extensive, as her
questions always turned upon the same topic--namely, what the women were
like in his country; so that he soon came to know by heart all the
Spanish terms which related to that subject.
They were out on the veranda together that evening, and as she went past
his back while he was leaning over in his seat, she drew her hand as if
by accident lightly through his hair. If it had had the electricity of a
cat's, it would have given out a perfect shower of sparks, so enraged
was he at the advance.
When Federigo came home he flung his hat away angrily on to a chair, and
drank down at a gulp a glass of rum that was standing on the table. He
no longer wore the smart cloak he had on when he went out.
"I have gambled away all your money!" he cried, in English, to Salvé, as
if careless of further reticence, and made some remark then with an
unpleasant laugh to his sister, who had evidently by her expression
perceived at once how matters stood.
"There's my last piastre for you," said Salvé, throwing it over to him.
"Try your luck with it."
"He is successful in love," said Paolina, tearfully, and with a _naïve_
affectation of superstition--"he is engaged."
When her brother, who was balancing the piastre on his forefinger,
laughingly translated what she had said, Salvé replied snappishly, with
an impatient glance at the señorita--
"I am not engaged, and never shall be."
"Unsuccessful in love!" she broke out, gleefully; "and the last piastre!
To-morrow we shall win a hundred, two hundred, Federigo!"
It was clearly the conviction of her heart; and she seized a mandolin
and began to dance to her own accompaniment, her eyes resting as she did
so upon Salvé with a peculiar expression.
"Quick, Federigo!--why not this evening?" she cried, breaking off
suddenly with a laugh, and throwing the mandolin from her on to the
sofa. "To-morrow his luck may be gone."
She seized her brother's hat, crushed it down upon his head, and pushed
him eagerly out of the door, going with him herself to open the wicket.
She came back then to Salvé, and as they sat _tête-à-tête_ in the
lamplit room with doors and windows thrown wide open, the moonlight
gleaming on the dark trees outside, and the night air perfumed with the
scent of flowers, she endeavoured to ingratiate herself with him by
pouring out his rum-and-water and by rolling his cigarettes, an art in
which it appeared from her laughter and gestures that she thought him
awkward. She was in a state of feverish excitement, and kept darting off
to the wicket and back again.
Salvé sat and smoked, and sipped his glass unconcernedly, whilst she
rocked herself backwards and forwards in a rocking-chair, with her head
thrown back, and her eyes steadily fixed upon him. He heard a sigh, and
she said in a low, ingratiating tone--
"I am afraid Federigo is unlucky."
Salvé was not so stupid as not to comprehend her meaning. He was quite
aware that she was handsome as she sat there with her hand on her knee,
and her well-formed foot gracefully brought into view; but his feeling
was exclusively one of indignation that such a common Brazilian baggage
should presume to bring herself into comparison with Elizabeth. He flung
away his cigar impatiently, and went down into the garden, without
attempting to conceal his aversion. He hated all women since the one he
had fixed his heart on had disappointed him, and he strode backwards and
forwards now in more than usual indignation against the sex.
He was still pacing the garden when Federigo came back, heated and
triumphant, with his cloak on his shoulder and a bag under his arm.
"Nearly three hundred piastres!" he cried, clearing the garden in a
succession of bounds.
His sister had been asleep on the sofa, and sprang up in ecstasy at the
intelligence; and they proceeded then with childish glee to spread out
the silver on the table, and divide it into three. When Salvé absolutely
refused to take more than his one piastre back again, there came
actually a look of humble admiration into the señorita's eyes. She could
not comprehend such an act of self-sacrifice, although she seemed to
vaguely feel that there was something noble about it. After a moment's
consideration she held out her hand and said--
"Señor, give me the piastre you have in your hand, and I will give you
another in return for it."
He did so, and she took it and kissed it repeatedly.
"I shall play with this one to-morrow evening," she cried joyfully, and
put it into her bosom.
She carried out her intention, and came home beaming, with a whole
bagful of piastres.
It seemed that the family lived only by play. The son, it is true, was
in connection with one or other of the political parties of the town,
with the prospect of an appointment as officer in a volunteer corps if
any rising took place; but that did not in the meantime bring in money,
and how they managed to get along when luck went against them it was not
easy to see.
Salvé meanwhile was becoming rather tired of being on land. The
seclusion had suited him well enough at first, until the señorita had
begun to pay him attentions; but now that she evidently remained at home
all day solely on his account, to dress at him, and play off all sorts
of coquetry upon him, he began to find it intolerable; and when the Juno
at last had sailed, he announced one day that he meant to go down to the
harbour and look for employment.
The señorita turned pale, but soon recovered her self-possession, and
even joked with him about it; and later on her brother persuaded him to
defer his intention for three days, until he had attended a gathering of
Federigo's friends, which was to take place one night down in one of the
suburbs.
That evening, when her brother had gone out as usual to play, the
señorita sat down in the window of the room where Salvé was, and through
which he would have to pass to go into the garden. She had undone her
luxuriant hair, and had put on a languishing look, and every now and
then thrummed absently on her guitar, humming gently to herself as she
fixed her black eyes upon him. Salvé saw himself in a manner besieged,
and felt half inclined to brush past her and escape into the garden; but
it would have seemed too deliberately unfriendly. The only sign which
betrayed his consciousness of the situation was the somewhat hasty way
in which he puffed his cigarette.
"You really mean to leave us?" she said at last sadly, in almost a
beseeching tone.
"Yes, señorita," was the reply, and evidently it came from the bottom of
his heart; he was angry, and weary of her importunity.
He had hardly said it before, thrusting her hand into her bosom, she had
sprung to her feet, and a stiletto whizzed past his ear, and stuck
quivering in the wall close to his head. Her supple body was still in
motion, her face was pale, and her eyes were flashing: then with a
sudden transition she threw herself back and laughed.
"Were you frightened?" she cried. But Salvé showed no sign of it. He was
provoked, but cool; and not being the kind of man who would deign to
engage in a conflict with a woman, he left the stiletto sticking in the
wall, though at first he had thought of seizing it.
"Look here!" she said, suddenly darting over and drawing it out, and
then practising with it, laughing all the while, at various spots on the
walls of the room, which she hit every time to a nicety.
"You were frightened--confess that you were," she said, teasingly,
sitting down opposite to him, heated with the exercise she had gone
through. She gazed into his face with her cheek resting on her hand and
her elbow on the table. "You were afraid; and now you are angry. The
women in your country don't do such things!"
Salvé turned to her with a look of icy rebuff. "No, señorita," he
replied, curtly, and went down into the garden.
Thereupon she seized the guitar again, and began strumming an
accompaniment apparently to her thoughts. It was no longer lively music
she played, but something of a menacing strain, in keeping with the look
in her eyes, and she seemed in a manner to hiss the air through her
teeth.
Later on in the evening she came tripping over to him with a coquettish
smile, and after the custom of the country offered him a cigarette,
which she had begun to smoke herself. When he rather ungallantly
declined it, she exclaimed furiously, stamping her foot--
"Señor!"
But she recovered herself in a moment, and said laughing, with at all
events apparent good-nature, something which meant that she understood
that this might perhaps not be a custom in his country.
Salvé felt much relieved when her brother came home, and told him that
the meeting he was waiting for was to take place on the following
evening.