A DARKENED MIND.
After this attack Requena's mental faculties were perceptibly weakened,
as every one could discern who saw him. He suffered from strange
illusions; his speech was slow and even less intelligible than of old.
He was full of fancies and whims. It was said that he had given his
mistress vast sums of money; that he flew into a rage over the merest
trifles, and shrieked and raved like a mad creature, going so far as to
inflict bodily injuries on his servants and attendants; that he ate
voraciously, and would say the most horrible things to his daughter. His
sullen and vindictive temper had become violent and malignant.
In business matters, however, his faculties showed no signs of deserting
him, nor had the mainspring of his nature, avarice, run down. His
affairs, to be sure, for the most part went on by themselves, and he
still had Llera, whose talents as a speculator had gained in astuteness.
Where the derangement, or rather the weakness of his mind, was most
conspicuous, was in his domestic affairs. His mistress reigned supreme,
and as in Madrid there is no lack of social parasites, there were plenty
of hangers-on to sing her praises. She gave tea and card parties, and
though the society she collected left much to be desired in point of
quality, in appearance it made as good a show as that of many another
wealthy house. There were Grandees of Castile who honoured her with
their presence, among them Manolo de Davalos, as mad and as much in love
as ever.
The lawsuit between the Duke and his daughter ran its lengthy course,
each party more obstinate and more virulent every day. In fact, to
Clementina, it had resolved itself into a personal struggle with Amparo.
The thing which she and Osorio most dreaded was that her father should
commit himself to the marriage which was openly prognosticated. If he
did, this hussy, an ex-flower-girl, would flaunt the ducal coronet, and
treat with them on equal terms. Though society at first would have
nothing to say to her, everything is forgotten in time, and Amparo would
presently be regarded as a Duchess indeed. Happily for them, though
Salabert was very submissive to her vagaries, they heard that the Duke
had positively refused to marry her, and that when she endeavoured to
coerce him, there were violent scenes between them. Whether all that the
servants reported were true or no, there was no doubt that she was
urgent and he obstinate. But though her attacks continued to be
fruitless, Clementina and Osorio lived "between the devil and the deep
sea." The Duke was pronounced to be suffering from creeping paralysis.
Under these circumstances, after consulting several eminent lawyers,
they determined to petition the Court for a decree pronouncing him
incompetent or incapable of managing his own affairs. He had, lately, it
was said, had a fresh attack, which had left him quite imbecile. This
report seemed to be confirmed by his never leaving the house, and by his
most intimate friends being refused admittance to see him. It was under
these circumstances that, either from some sudden impulse of her
impetuous nature, or because some of her acquaintances had suggested it
to her, Clementina determined to deal a decisive blow, which would at
once put an end to the litigation and to all the difficulties bound up
with it.
"My father is shut up," said she, "I will go and turn that woman out of
the house."
Her husband tried to dissuade her, but in vain.
One morning, therefore, she drove to her father's palace. The porter, on
opening the gate to the Senora Clementina, was at once amazed and
pleased; for though she was neither so smooth-tongued nor so liberal as
the ex-florist, a sense of justice led the Duke's household to respect
his daughter and contemn his mistress. The haughty lady, without looking
at the man, merely said:
"Well, Rafael?" and went quickly up the steps.
"How is papa?" she asked of the servant who met her in the hall.
He was too much astonished to be able to reply.
"Well, fellow!" she repeated impatiently, "Where is papa? In the office,
or in his study?"
"I beg your pardon, Senora; the Duke is well. I think he is in his
study."
At this juncture, a waiting-maid, who had caught sight of her from the
end of a passage, and heard her inquiries, flew off to warn the Senora,
while Clementina hastened up the stairs to the first-floor. But before
she could reach her father's room, the lady in possession stood in her
path, looking straight into her face, with flashing eyes.
"Where are you going?" she asked, in a voice husky with excitement.
"Who are you?" asked Clementina, lifting her head with supreme disdain,
and looking down on her.
"I am the mistress of this house," was the reply, but the speaker turned
pale.
"The sick nurse, you should say. I never heard that there was a mistress
here."
"What! Have you come to insult me in my own house?" exclaimed Amparo,
setting her arms akimbo, as if she still were on the market-place.
"No. I have come to turn you out, before the police arrive and do it for
me."
Her antagonist made a movement, as though she would fall on her and rend
her; but she checked herself, and began to scream as loud as she could:
"Pepe, Gregorio, Anselmo! Come here, come all! Turn this insolent
creature out of the house! She is insulting me."
Some of the servants came at her call; but they stood confused and
motionless, contemplating this strange scene. At the same moment the
door of the Duke's room was opened, and Salabert stood before them in a
dressing-gown and cap. He had grown terribly old in a few weeks. His
eyes were dull, his face colourless, his cheeks pendant and flabby.
"What is all this? What is the matter?" he asked thickly. On seeing his
daughter, he staggered back a step.
"This woman," cried Amparo, in a yell of vulgar rage, "after having you
declared an idiot, comes here to insult me!"
"Papa, do not heed her," said Clementina, going up to him.
But her father drew back, and holding out his trembling hands he
exclaimed: "Go--go away! Do not come near me!"
"Listen to me, papa."
"Do not come near me, wicked, ungrateful child!" repeated the Duke, in a
quavering voice, but with melodramatic emphasis.
"Yes, leave this house, shameless creature," added the woman, encouraged
by the old man's attitude. "Dare you show your face here, after treating
your father so?"
Clementina stood petrified, colourless, staring at them with a look of
terror rather than anger. For an instant she was on the point of
fainting away; everything seemed to be whirling round her. But her pride
enabled her to make a supreme effort; she stood rooted to the spot, and
incapable of moving, as white as a marble statue. Then she turned on her
heel slowly, for fear of falling, and reached the stairs, down which she
went, almost tottering at each step. Her father, spurred by Amparo's
cries, followed her to the top of the flight, repeating with increasing
fury:
"Go--go. Leave my house!" And he held up a tremulous hand in theatrical
menace.
His mistress, meanwhile, poured forth a string of abuse with an
accompaniment of gestures, sarcastic laughter and gibes, learnt and
remembered from her early experience.
By the time Clementina had reached the garden, her cheeks were tingling.
She leaned against the pedestal of one of the lamps for a minute to
recover herself, and then ran like a mad creature to the gate, where her
carriage was waiting; she sprang into it and burst into tears. On
reaching home she was lifted out in a miserable state, and helped up to
her room by two maids. When Osorio came up, it was only in broken and
incoherent sentences that she could tell him what had occurred.
She kept her bed for eight or ten days in a state of utter prostration,
and she rose from it at last so possessed by the desire for revenge,
that she really seemed to have gone mad.
The lawsuit, under the hot breath of her malice, was fanned to an
imposing blaze. It was regarded in Madrid as a matter of public
interest. The opinions of the most distinguished physicians, Spanish and
foreign, were taken on both sides as to the Duke's mental incapacity. On
one part he was pronounced an idiot, so hopelessly childish that there
was nothing to be done with him; on the other it was asserted that he
was mending steadily, his mind clearer every day, and his intellect a
marvel of acumen and sound sense. And on one point all the authorities
concurred--namely, in requiring enormous fees. The press took sides with
one or the other party. Clementina subsidised one or two papers. Amparo
had bribed others, for the Duke, as a matter of fact, was incompetent to
direct the case. And through their columns the two women, more or less
disguised, contrived to hurl insolence at one another, reviving, in an
allegorical dress, an extensive selection of scandalous tales.
In this warfare the daughter had the worst chance. She could not be so
liberal as the mistress, who sowed bank-notes broadcast. On the other
hand, Clementina had the support of her husband's creditors, and of her
friend Pepa Frias--who was indefatigable in her visits to the doctors,
the lawyers, and the newspaper editors--the Condesa de Cotorraso, the
Marquesa de Alcudia, her brother-in-law, Calderon, General Patino and
Jimenez Arbos; and, more helpful than all these, as in duty bound, her
lover _en titre_, Escosura. He, holding a post of high importance, had
no small influence on the course of the lawsuit.
What a life of excitement, anxiety, and misery! Clementina could not
eat, she could not sleep. She was always holding conferences with
lawyers and judges, always writing letters. Even at her parties and
dinners, nothing else was talked about, till at length the more
indifferent of her acquaintance rebelled, and ceased to come. To others,
however, she communicated some of her own flame; they became her ardent
partisans, and brought or carried reports, volunteered advice, broke out
in cries of indignation whenever Amparo was even mentioned. And although
Clementina's haughty temper prevented her being a favourite in Madrid
society, as she stood forth, after all, as the representative of justice
and decency, her cause found most supporters. To this her antagonist's
folly contributed, for she paraded herself and her splendour everywhere,
with the imbecile and degraded old man.
The Duke was in fact perishing before their eyes. After a stage of
excitement and violence, when he had behaved like a madman, came a
period of nervous prostration; by degrees he became almost idiotic. He
lost his wits so completely that he could not even understand business.
Everything was left to Llera. This would have been all right, but that
Amparo would interfere and do all kinds of mischief. She took the
greatest pains, however, to hide Salabert's condition; on days when he
was over excitable or incoherent, she kept him in his room. It was only
when he was calm and rational that she ventured to take him out, and
then never allowed him to talk to any one. But her efforts were not
always successful. Salabert went out by himself on various pretences,
and amply betrayed his deranged condition. On one occasion he was found
outside the town at four in the morning. Another time he went into a
jeweller's shop, and after ordering some trinkets he pocketed some
others, believing he had not been observed. The jeweller had seen it,
however, but he said nothing, knowing the millionaire. He sent the bill
in to Amparo, who hastened to pay it, and went in person to beg that the
matter should not be divulged. In short, before long it was established
beyond a doubt, in spite of the contending evidence of physicians, that
the Duke was absolutely _non compos_; and it was said that the lawsuit
would be decided in that sense.
Two days before the decision was made public, Amparo vanished from the
Requena palace, after sacking it very completely, and carrying off with
her many objects of great value. Her savings already amounted to several
thousand dollars, and in anticipation of disaster she had drawn the
money out of the Bank of Spain and placed it in foreign securities. She
was afterwards heard of in France, and a few months later it was
reported in Madrid that she had married the crazy Marquis.
* * * * *
On the very day of Amparo's flight--for it may be called a
flight--Clementina and her husband took possession of the Requena
palace. She found her father in a pitiable state of total imbecility. He
spoke as though they had met but the day before and nothing of any
importance had occurred, he asked for Amparo, and sometimes mistook his
daughter for her. The daughter's heart, it must be owned, was not
severely wrung. This catastrophe by no means satisfied the bitterness
which possessed her soul when she recalled all the wretchedness she had
endured. Her vengeance was incomplete, for Amparo was rich and content.
She longed to prosecute her as a criminal, while Osorio, satisfied with
the enormous fortune which had dropped into his hands, did not regard
her thefts as worth a thought.
The Duke de Requena, the famous financier who for twenty years had been
the wonder and admiration of the banking world in Spain and abroad, the
man who had been so much discussed by the public and the press, was ere
long, in his own house--now the Osorio palace--a useless and worthless
chattel. To avoid comment, or to be more secure as to his condition, or
perhaps out of some dim fear lest he should recover, the Osorios did not
send him to a lunatic asylum; they had him cared for at home. Salabert
was no more than a child. He thought of nothing but his meals. He spoke
very little, but sat hour after hour, looking at his nails or rubbing
one hand over the other, now and then uttering some strange,
inarticulate cry. He was in the charge of an attendant, who, when he was
tiresome, would fly in a rage and slap him. But the person he held in
most respect, it may be said in real awe, was his daughter. It was
enough for Clementina to frown and speak a scolding word; he submitted
at once. For his son-in-law, on the other hand, he did not care a pin.
When his attendant found him quiet and went to amuse himself for an hour
with the other servants, the crazy old man would wander about the house,
more especially to gaze in the mirrors. His principal mania was for
picking up pieces of bread and storing them in a corner of his room,
where they lay till they were mouldy. When the pile was too large the
servants cleared it away in baskets and flung it out on the dust-heap.
Then when he missed it he was furious, and his keeper had to use strong
measures to pacify him. One morning, soon after the Osorios'
breakfast--the old man ate alone in his own room--three or four of the
servants were together in the great dining-room, cleaning the plate and
putting it away in the side-board cupboards. They were in high spirits
and playing games, hitting each other with the long loaves they had
taken up for sticks, running round the table and laughing loudly. Their
mistress was upstairs and could not hear them. Suddenly the old imbecile
appeared on the scene, with the tray on which he was wont to carry off
the broken pieces as a precious booty to his room. He had on a greasy
old shooting coat, and his head was bare. And, in spite of its white
hairs, that head was not venerable; the yellow unshaven cheeks, the
colourless, loose lips, the stony, expressionless eyes had no trace of
the beauty of old age, but only the decrepitude of vice, which is always
repulsive, and the stamp of idiotcy which is always terrible.
Seeing so many persons, he paused a moment, but he made up his mind to
come in, and went straight to the drawers of the side-board, where he
began an eager search, picking up every scrap he found there and
collecting them on the tray. The servants watched him with amusement.
"Hunt away, old fellow!" cried one. "When are you going to ask us to try
the broth, daddy?"
The old man made no reply, he was much too busy.
"The broth, sir," said another, "you had better ask us to share a ten
dollar-note."
"I shall not ask you," mumbled the Duke with some irritation, "I shall
only ask Anselmo."
"Oh yes, we know why you ask Anselmo, it is because he keeps the stick!
Never fear, if that is all, you shall ask me too."
The others all shouted with laughter, and the youngest, a boy of about
sixteen, seeing him with his tray filled, and about to depart, slipped
behind him and, giving him a jerk, upset all the bits, which were
scattered on the floor. The Duke's rage was terrific, with yells of rage
he went down on his knees to pick them up again, while the servants
applauded the joke. As soon as he had collected them all again on his
tray, and was shuffling off as fast as he could to escape from their
rough fun, the same fellow again came behind him and snatched it away.
The madman's frenzy was indescribable; gnashing his teeth and glaring
with fury, he rushed on the lad, but the others seized him. The poor
lunatic began to utter cries which were anything rather than human.
At this moment Clementina's voice was heard in high wrath:
"What is the matter? What are you doing to papa?"
The servants let him go, and vanished from the room.