THE DISCORD GROWS
During the following days Pepe Rey made the acquaintance of several of
the people of the place; he visited the Casino, and formed friendships
with some of the individuals who spend their lives in the rooms of that
corporation.
But the youth of Orbajosa did not spend all their time in the Casino,
as evil-minded people might imagine. In the afternoons there were to be
seen at the corner of the cathedral, and in the little plaza formed
by the intersection of the Calle del Condestable and the Calle de la
Triperia, several gentlemen who, gracefully enveloped in their cloaks,
stood there like sentinels, watching the people as they passed by. If
the weather was fine, those shining lights of the Urbs Augustan culture
bent their steps, still enveloped in the indispensable cloak, toward
the promenade called the Paseo de las Descalzas, which was formed by
a double row of consumptive-looking elms and some withered bushes
of broom. There the brilliant Pleiad watched the daughters of this
fellow-townsman or that, who had also come there for a walk, and the
afternoon passed tolerably. In the evening, the Casino filled up again;
and while some of the members gave their lofty minds to the delights of
monte, others read the newspapers, while the majority discussed in the
coffee-room subjects of the various kinds, such as the politics, horses,
bulls, or the gossip of the place. The result of every discussion was
the renewed conviction of the supremacy of Orbajosa and its inhabitants
over all the other towns and peoples on the face of the earth.
These distinguished men were the cream of the illustrious city; some
rich landowners, others very poor, but all alike free from lofty
aspirations. They had the imperturbable tranquillity of the beggar who
desires nothing more so long as he has a crust of bread with which to
cheat hunger, and the sun to warm him. What chiefly distinguished the
Orbajosans of the Casino was a sentiment of bitter hostility toward
all strangers, and whenever any stranger of note appeared in its august
halls, they believed that he had come there to call in question the
superiority of the land of the garlic, or to dispute with it, through
envy, the incontestable advantages which nature had bestowed upon it.
When Pepe Rey presented himself in the Casino, they received him with
something of suspicion, and as facetious persons abounded in it, before
the new member had been there a quarter of an hour, all sorts of jokes
had been made about him. When in answer to the reiterated questions of
the members he said that he had come to Orbajosa with a commission to
explore the basin of the Nahara for coal, and to survey a road, they
all agreed that Señor Don José was a conceited fellow who wished to
give himself airs, discovering coalbeds and planning railroads. Some one
added:
“He has come to a bad place for that, then. Those gentlemen imagine that
here we are all fools, and that they can deceive us with fine words. He
has come to marry Doña Perfecta’s daughter, and all that he says about
coalbeds is only for the sake of appearances.”
“Well, this morning,” said another, a merchant who had failed, “they
told me at the Dominguez’ that the gentleman has not a peseta, and that
he has come here in order to be supported by his aunt and to see if he
can catch Rosarito.”
“It seems that he is no engineer at all,” added an olive-planter, whose
plantations were mortgaged for double their value. “But it is as you
say: those starvelings from Madrid think they are justified in deceiving
poor provincials, and as they believe that here we all wear tails--”
“It is plain to be seen that he is penniless--”
“Well, half-jest and the whole earnest, he told us last night that we
were lazy barbarians.”
“That we spent our time sunning ourselves, like the Bedouins.”
“That we lived with the imagination.”
“That’s it; that we lived with the imagination.”
“And that this city was precisely like a city in Morocco.”
“Well! one has no patience to listen to those things. Where else
could he see (unless it might be in Paris) a street like the Calle
del Condestable, that can show seven houses in a row, all of them
magnificent, from Doña Perfecta’s house to that of Nicolasita Hernandez?
Does that fellow suppose that one has never seen any thing, or has never
been in Paris?”
“He also said, with a great deal of delicacy, that Orbajosa was a city
of beggars; and he gave us to understand that in his opinion we live in
the meanest way here without being ourselves aware of it.”
“What insolence! If he ever says that to me, there will be a scene in
the Casino,” exclaimed the collector of taxes. “Why didn’t they tell him
how many arrobas of oil Orbajosa produced last year? Doesn’t the fool
know that in good years Orbajosa produces wheat enough to supply all
Spain, and even all Europe, with bread? It is true that the crops have
been bad for several years past, but that is not the rule. And the
crop of garlic! I wager the gentleman doesn’t know that the garlic of
Orbajosa made the gentleman of the jury in the Exposition of London
stare!”
These and other conversations of a similar kind were to be heard in the
rooms of the Casino in those days. Notwithstanding this boastful talk,
so common in small towns, which, for the very reason that they are
small, are generally arrogant, Rey was not without finding sincere
friends among the members of the learned corporation, for they were not
all gossips, nor were there wanting among them persons of good sense.
But our hero had the misfortune--if misfortune it can be called--to be
unusually frank in the manifestation of his feelings, and this awakened
some antipathy toward him.
Days passed. In addition to the natural disgust which the social customs
of the episcopal city produced in him, various causes, all of them
disagreeable, began to develop in his mind a profound sadness, chief
among these causes being the crowd of litigants that swarmed about him
like voracious ants. Many others of the neighboring landowners besides
Uncle Licurgo claimed damages from him, or asked him to render accounts
for lands managed by his grandfather. A claim was also brought against
him because of a certain contract of partnership entered into by his
mother and which, as it appeared, had not been fulfilled; and he was
required in the same way to acknowledge a mortgage on the estate of
The Poplars executed in an irregular form by his uncle. Claims swarmed
around him, multiplying with ant-like rapidity. He had come to the
determination to renounce the ownership of his lands, but meanwhile his
dignity required that he should not yield to the wily manoeuvres of the
artful rustics; and as the town-council brought a claim against him also
on account of a pretended confusion of the boundary lines of his
estate with those of an adjoining wood belonging to the town-lands, the
unfortunate young man found himself at every step obliged to prove his
rights, which were being continually called in question. His honor
was engaged, and he had no alternative but to defend his rights to the
death.
Doña Perfecta had promised in her magnanimity to help him to
free himself from these disgraceful plots by means of an amicable
arrangement; but the days passed, and the good offices of the exemplary
lady had produced no result whatever. The claims multiplied with the
dangerous swiftness of a violent disease. Pepe Rey passed hour after
hour at court, making declarations and answering the same questions
over and over again, and when he returned home tired and angry, there
appeared before him the sharp features and grotesque face of the notary,
who had brought him a thick bundle of stamped papers full of horrible
formulas--that he might be studying the question.
It will be easily understood that Pepe Rey was not a man to endure
such annoyances when he might escape from them by leaving the town. His
mother’s noble city appeared to his imagination like a horrible monster
which had fastened its ferocious claws in him and was drinking his
blood. To free himself from this monster nothing more was necessary, he
believed, than flight. But a weighty interest--an interest in which his
heart was concerned--kept him where he was; binding him to the rock of
his martyrdom with very strong bonds. Nevertheless, he had come to feel
so dissatisfied with his position; he had come to regard himself as
so utterly a stranger, so to say, in that gloomy city of lawsuits,
of old-fashioned customs and ideas, of envy and of slander, that he
resolved to leave it without further delay, without, however, abandoning
the project which had brought him to it. One morning, finding a
favorable occasion, he opened his mind to Doña Perfecta on this point.
“Nephew,” responded that lady, with her accustomed gentleness, “don’t be
rash. Why! you are like fire. Your father was just the same--what a man
he was! You are like a flash--I have already told you that I will be
very glad to call you my son. Even if you did not possess the good
qualities and the talents which distinguish you (in spite of some little
defects, for you have those, too); even if you were not as good as you
are; it is enough that this union has been proposed by your father, to
whom both my daughter and myself owe so much, for me to accept it. And
Rosarito will not oppose it since I wish it. What is wanting, then?
Nothing; there is nothing wanting but a little time. The marriage cannot
be concluded with the haste you desire and which might, perhaps,
give ground for interpretations discreditable to my dear daughter’s
reputation. But as you think of nothing but machines, you want every
thing done by steam. Wait, man, wait; what hurry are you in? This hatred
that you have taken to our poor Orbajosa is nothing but a caprice. But
of course you can only live among counts and marquises and orators and
diplomats--all you want is to get married and separate me forever from
my daughter,” she added, wiping away a tear. “Since that is the case,
inconsiderate boy, at least have the charity to delay for a little this
marriage, for which you are so eager. What impatience! What ardent
love! I did not suppose that a poor country girl like my daughter could
inspire so violent a passion.”
The arguments of his aunt did not convince Pepe Rey, but he did not
wish to contradict her. A fresh cause of anxiety was soon added to those
which already embittered his existence. He had now been in Orbajosa
for two weeks, and during that time he had received no letter from his
father. This could not be attributed to carelessness on the part of the
officials of the post-office of Orbajosa, for the functionary who had
charge of that service being the friend and _protégé_ of Doña Perfecta,
the latter every day recommended him to take the greatest care that the
letters addressed to her nephew did not go astray. The letter-carrier,
named Cristoval Ramos, and nicknamed Caballuco--a personage whose
acquaintance we have already made--also visited the house, and to him
Doña Perfecta was accustomed to address warnings and reprimands as
energetic as the following:
“A pretty mail service you have! How is it that my nephew has not
received a single letter since he has been in Orbajosa? When the
carrying of the mail is entrusted to such a giddy-pate, how can things
be expected to go well? I will speak to the governor of the province so
that he may be careful what kind of people he puts in the post-office.”
Caballuco, shrugging his shoulders, looked at Rey with the most complete
indifference.
One day he entered the house with a letter in his hand.
“Thank Heaven!” said Doña Perfecta to her nephew. “Here are letters
from your father. Rejoice, man! A pretty fright we have had through
my brother’s laziness about writing. What does he say? He is well, no
doubt,” she added, seeing that Pepe Rey opened the letter with feverish
impatience.
The engineer turned pale as he glanced over the first lines.
“Good Heavens! Pepe, what is the matter?” exclaimed Doña Perfecta,
rising in alarm. “Is your father ill?”
“This letter is not from my father,” responded Pepe, revealing in his
countenance the greatest consternation.
“What is it, then?”
“An order from the Minister of Public Works, relieving me from the
charge which was confided to me.”
“What! Can it be possible!”
“A dismissal pure and simple, expressed in terms very little flattering
to me.”
“Was there ever any thing so unjust!” exclaimed Doña Perfecta, when she
had recovered from her amazement.
“What a humiliation!” exclaimed the young man. “It is the first time in
my life that I have received an affront like this.”
“But the Government is unpardonable! To put such a slight upon you! Do
you wish me to write to Madrid? I have very good friends there, and
I may be able to obtain satisfaction for you from the Government and
reparation for this brutal affront.”
“Thanks, señora, I desire no recommendations,” said the young man, with
ill-humor.
“But what a piece of injustice! what a high-handed proceeding! To
discharge in this way a young man of your merit, an eminent scientist.
Why, I cannot contain my anger!”
“I will find out,” said Pepe, with energy, “who it is that occupies
himself in injuring me.”
“That minister--but what is to be expected from those infamous
politicasters?”
“In this there is the hand of some one who is determined to drive me to
desperation,” declared the young man, visibly disturbed. “This is
not the act of the minister; this and other contrarieties that I am
experiencing are the result of a revengeful plot, of a secret and
well-laid plan of some implacable enemy, and this enemy is here in
Orbajosa, this plot has been hatched in Orbajosa, doubt it not, dear
aunt.”
“You are out of your mind,” replied Doña Perfecta, with a look of
compassion. “You have enemies in Orbajosa, you say? Some one wishes to
revenge himself upon you? Come, Pepillo, you have lost your senses.
The reading of those books in which they say that we have for ancestors
monkeys or parrots has turned your brain.”
She smiled sweetly as she uttered the last words, and taking a tone of
familiar and affectionate admonition, she added:
“My dear boy, the people of Orbajosa may be rude and boorish rustics,
without learning, or polish, or fine manners; but in loyalty and good
faith we yield to no one--to no one, I say, no one.”
“Don’t suppose,” said the young man, “that I accuse any one in this
house. But that my implacable and cruel enemy is in this city, I am
persuaded.”
“I wish you would show me that stage villain,” responded Doña Perfecta,
smiling again. “I suppose you will not accuse Uncle Licurgo, nor any
of the others who have brought suits against you; for the poor people
believe they are only defending their rights. And between ourselves,
they are not altogether wanting in reason in this case. Besides, Uncle
Licurgo likes you greatly. He has told me so himself. From the moment he
saw you, you took his fancy, and the poor old man has conceived such an
affection for you--”
“Oh, yes--a profound affection!” murmured Pepe.
“Don’t be foolish,” continued his aunt, putting her hand on his shoulder
and looking at him closely. “Don’t imagine absurdities; convince
yourself that your enemy, if you have one, is in Madrid, in that centre
of corruption, of envy and rivalry, not in this peaceful and tranquil
corner, where all is good-will and concord. Some one, no doubt, who is
envious of your merit----There is one thing I wish to say now--and that
is, that if you desire to go there to learn the cause of this affront
and ask an explanation of it from the Government, you must not neglect
doing so on our account.”
Pepe Rey fixed his eyes on his aunt’s countenance, as if he wished to
penetrate with his glance the inmost depths of her soul.
“I say that if you wish to go, do so,” repeated Doña Perfecta, with
admirable serenity, while her countenance expressed the most complete
and unaffected sincerity.
“No, señora: I do not wish to go.”
“So much the better; I think you are right. You are more tranquil here,
notwithstanding the suspicions with which you are tormenting yourself.
Poor Pepillo! We poor rustics of Orbajosa live happy in our ignorance. I
am very sorry that you are not contented here. But is it my fault if you
vex and worry yourself without a cause? Do I not treat you like a son?
Have I not received you as the hope of my house? Can I do more for
you? If in spite of all this you do not like us, if you show so much
indifference toward us, if you ridicule our piety, if you insult our
friends, is it by chance because we do not treat you well?”
Doña Perfecta’s eyes grew moist.
“My dear aunt,” said Pepe, feeling his anger vanish, “I too have
committed some faults since I have been a guest in this house.”
“Don’t be foolish. Don’t talk about committing faults. Among the persons
of the same family every thing is forgiven.”
“But Rosarito--where is she?” asked the young man, rising. “Am I not to
see her to-day, either?”
“She is better. Do you know that she did not wish to come down stairs?”
“I will go up to her then.”
“No, it would be of no use. That girl has some obstinate notions--to-day
she is determined not to leave her room. She has locked herself in.”
“What a strange idea!”
“She will get over it. Undoubtedly she will get over it. We will see
to-night if we cannot put these melancholy thoughts out of her head. We
will get up a party to amuse her. Why don’t you go to Don Inocencio’s
and ask him to come here to-night and bring Jacintillo with him?”
“Jacintillo!”
“Yes, when Rosarito has these fits of melancholy, the only one who can
divert her is that young man.”
“But I will go upstairs----”
“No, you must not.”
“What etiquette there is in this house!”
“You are ridiculing us. Do as I ask you.”
“But I wish to see her.”
“But you cannot see her. How little you know the girl!”
“I thought I knew her well. I will stay here, then. But this solitude is
horrible.”
“There comes the notary.”
“Maledictions upon him!”
“And I think the attorney-general has just come in too--he is an
excellent person.”
“He be hanged with his goodness!”
“But business affairs, when they are one’s own, serve as a distraction.
Some one is coming. I think it is the agricultural expert. You will have
something to occupy you now for an hour or two.”
“An hour or two of hell!”
“Ah, ha! if I am not mistaken Uncle Licurgo and Uncle Paso Largo have
just entered. Perhaps they have come to propose a compromise to you.”
“I would throw myself into the pond first!”
“How unnatural you are! For they are all very fond of you. Well, so that
nothing may be wanting, there comes the constable too. He is coming to
serve a summons on you.”
“To crucify me.”
All the individuals named were now entering the parlor one by one.
“Good-by, Pepe; amuse yourself,” said Doña Perfecta.
“Earth, open and swallow me!” exclaimed the young man desperately.
“Señor Don José.”
“My dear Don José.”
“Esteemed Don José.”
“My dearest Don José.”
“My respected friend, Don José.”
Hearing these honeyed and insinuating preliminaries, Pepe Rey exhaled a
deep sigh and gave himself up. He gave himself up, soul and body, to the
executioners, who brandished horrible leaves of stamped paper while the
victim, raising his eyes to heaven with a look of Christian meekness,
murmured:
“Father, why hast thou forsaken me?”