It is not known how long Pepe remained at his post to await the return
of the stranger: when the cock was heard to crow, and the aurora
appeared in the eastern horizon, the little bay of Ensenada was
completely deserted.
Then life began to appear in the village. The dark shadows of the
fishermen were seen upon the stair-like street, descending to the mole;
and the first beams of the morning lit up their departure. In a few
minutes the little flotilla was out of sight; and at the doors of the
cottages the women and children only could be seen, appearing and
disappearing at intervals.
Among these wretched hovels of the village, there was one dwelling of
greater pretensions than the rest. It was that of the alcalde, Don
Ramon Cohecho of whom we have already spoken. It alone still kept its
doors and windows closed against the morning light.
It was full day, when a young man, wearing a high-crowned beaver hat,--
old, greasy and shining, like leather--walked up to the door of the
alcalde's mansion. The limbs of this individual were scantily covered
with a pair of pantaloons, so tightly fitting as to appear like a second
skin to his legs, so short as scarce to touch his ankles, and of such
thin stuff as to ill protect the wearer from the sharp air of a November
morning. The upper half of this individual was not visible. A little
cloak, of coarse shaggy cloth, known as an _esclavina_, covered him up
to the very eyes. In the manner in which he so carefully guarded the
upper part of his person with this pinched mantle, at the expense of his
thighs and legs, an observer might have supposed that he was perfectly
content with his pantaloons. Appearances, however, are often deceptive;
for in truth the ambition of this youth; whose unsteady glance,
miserable aspect, and a certain smell of old papers about him,
proclaimed to be _un escribano_--his everyday dream was to have a pair
of pantaloons entirely different from his own--in other words, a pair
with long ample legs, of good wide waist, and made out of fine
broadcloth. Such a pair would render him the most satisfied man in the
world.
This young man was the _right hand_ of the alcalde--his name Gregorio
Cagatinta.
On reaching the door, he gave a modest knock with his horn ink-bottle,
which he carried hanging to his button. The door was opened by an old
housekeeper.
"Ah! it is you, _Don_ Gregorio?" cried the housekeeper, with that superb
courtesy so peculiar to the Spaniards--that even two shoeblacks on
meeting lavish upon each other the epithet _Don_, as if each were a
grand noble.
"Yes, it is I, Dona Nicolasa," replied Gregorio.
"_Santisima Virgen_!--since it is you, then I must be late, and my
master will be waiting for his pantaloons that are not yet aired. Take
a seat, Don Gregorio: he will soon be down."
The chamber into which the notary's clerk had been introduced would have
been a large one, had it not been for the singular conglomeration of
objects with which it was more than half filled. Nets of all sizes,
masts, yards, and rudders of boats, oars, sails of every kind--both
square and lateen--woollen shirts worn by sailors or fishermen, and a
variety of other marine objects, were placed pellmell in every corner of
the room. Notwithstanding, there was space enough left to hold three or
four chairs around a large oaken table, upon which last stood a large
cork ink-stand, with several goose-quill pens; with some sheets of half
dirty paper placed ostentatiously around it to awe the visitors, who
might have business with the alcalde.
The presence of this odd assortment of objects, it would have been
difficult for a stranger to explain--though there was no mystery about
it. The fact is, that besides his official character as first
magistrate, the alcalde had another _role_ which he played, of rather an
unofficial character. He was the _pawnbroker_ of the place--that is, he
lent out money in small sums, charging a _real_ for every dollar by the
week--in other words, a simple interest of twenty per cent, by the
month, or two hundred and fifty per cent, per annum! His clients being
all fishermen, will account for the nautical character of the "pledges"
that filled the chamber of audience.
Cagatinta scarce deigned to cast a look at this miscellaneous collection
of objects. Had there been a pair of pantaloons among them, it might
have been different; for to say the truth, the probity of Don Gregorio
was scarce firm enough to have resisted so strong a temptation as this
would have been. The notary's clerk was not exactly of that stuff of
which honest men are composed. Nature, even in its crimes, does not
leap to grand villainies at once; it proceeds from less to greater; and
Cagatinta, though still but young, was yet capable of a little bit of
"cribbing."
Don Ramon was not long in coming out of his sleeping-room. In a little
while he showed his jovial face at the door of the audience chamber.
He was a person of portly and robust figure; and it was easily seen that
one leg of his ample pantaloons would have been sufficient to have made
a pair for the thin limbs and meagre body of the escribano.
"_Por Dios_! Senor alcalde," said the clerk, after having exchanged
with his superior a profusion of matinal salutations, "what a splendid
pair of pantaloons you have on!"
From the alcalde's answer, it was evident that this was not the first
time that Cagatinta had made the remark.
"Ah! Gregorio, _amigo_!" replied he, in a tone of good-humour, "you are
growing tiresome with your repetitions. Patience, patience, senor
escribano! you know that for the services you are to render me--I say
nothing of those already rendered--I have promised you my liver-coloured
breeches, which have been only a very little used: you have only to gain
them."
"But what services are to gain them, senor alcalde?" inquired the clerk,
in a despairing tone.
"Eh--Dios!--who knows what--patience, _amigo_! Something may turn up
all at once, that will give you that advantage over me. But come! let
us to business--make out the deed of appropriation of the boat of that
bad pay, Vicente Perez, who under pretence that he has six brats to
feed, can't reimburse me the twenty dollars I have advanced him."
Cagatinta drew out from his little portfolio a sheet of stamped paper,
and sitting down by the table proceeded to execute the order of the
magistrate. He was interrupted by a hurried knocking at the outer
door--which had been closed to prevent intrusion.
"Who dare knock in that fashion?" sharply inquired the alcalde.
"_Ave Maria purisima_!" cried a voice from without.
"_Sin pecado concebida_!" replied at the same time the two acolytes
within.
And upon this formula, Gregorio hastened to the door, and opened it.
"What on earth can have brought you here at this hour, Don Juan de Dios
Canelo?" inquired the alcalde in a tone of surprise, as the old steward
of the Countess de Mediana appeared in the doorway, his bald forehead
clouded with some profound chagrin.
"Ah, senor alcalde," replied the old man, "a terrible misfortune has
happened last night--a great crime has been committed--the Countess has
disappeared, and the young Count along with her!"
"Are you sure of this?" shouted the alcalde.
"Alas--you will only have to go up into the balcony that overlooks the
sea, and there you will see in what state the assassins have left the
Countess's chamber."
"Justice! justice! Senor alcalde! Send out your alguazils over the
whole country; find the villains--hang them!"
This voice came from a woman still outside in the street. It was the
_femme de chambre_ of the Countess, who, to show a devotion which she
very little felt, judged it apropos to make a great outcry as she
precipitated herself into the chamber of audience.
"Ta-ta-ta, woman! how you go on!" interrupted the alcalde. "Do you
think I have a crowd of alguazils? You know very well that in this
virtuous village there are only two; and as these would starve if they
didn't follow some trade beside their official one, they are both gone
fishing hours ago."
"Ah, me!" cried the _femme de chambre_, with a hypocritical whine, "my
poor mistress!--who then is to help her?"
"Patience, woman, patience!" said the alcalde. "Don't fear but that
justice will be done."
The chamber-maid did not appear to draw much hope from the assurance,
but only redoubled her cries, her excited behaviour strongly contrasting
with the quiet manner in which the faithful old steward exhibited the
sincerity of his grief.
Meanwhile a crowd of women, old men, and children, had gathered around
the alcalde's door, and by little and little, were invading the
sanctuary of the audience chamber itself.
Don Ramon advanced towards Cagatinta, who was rubbing his hands under
his _esclavina_, charmed at the idea of the quantity of stamped paper he
would now have an opportunity to blacken.
"Now, friend Gregorio," said the alcalde, in a low voice, "the time has
come, when, if you are sharp, you may gain the liver-coloured breeches."
He said no more; but it was evident that the _escribano_ understood him,
at least, to a certain extent. The latter turned pale with joy, and
kept his eye fixed upon every movement of his patron, determined to
seize the first opportunity that presented itself of winning the
breeches.
The alcalde reseated himself in his great leathern chair; and commanding
silence with a wave of his hand, addressed his auditory in a long and
pompous speech, with that profuse grandiloquence of which the Spanish
language is so capable.
The substance of his speech was as follows:
"My children! We have just heard from this respectable individual, Don
Juan de Dios Canelo, that a great crime has last night been committed;
the full knowledge of this villainy cannot fail to arrive at the ears of
justice, from which nothing can be kept hid. Not the less are we to
thank Don Juan for his official communication; it only remains for him
to complete the accusation by giving the names of the guilty persons."
"But, senor alcalde," interrupted the steward, "I do not know them,
although, as you say, my communication may be official--I can only say
that I will do all in my power to assist in finding them."
"You understand, my children," continued the alcalde, without taking
notice of what the steward had said, "the worthy Canelo by his official
communication asks for the punishment of the guilty persons. Justice
will not be deaf to his appeal. I may now be permitted, however, to
speak to you of my own little affairs, before abandoning myself to the
great grief which the disappearance of the Countess and the young Count
has caused me."
Here the alcalde made a sign to Cagatinta, whose whole faculties were
keenly bent to discover what service was expected from him, by which he
was to gain the object of his ambition--the liver-coloured breeches.