I went back to the ship in a worse state than that of the day before.
The lady occupied my thoughts more than was desirable for content or
peace of mind. I went back again that afternoon and again the next day.
Her interesting figure, her eyes--so black, so innocent, and so piquant
at the same time, were rapidly penetrating my soul. And as always
happens in such cases, her eyes first began to please me and then her
voice began to enchant me; soon it was her fine hands, like alabaster; a
little after that the soft veil of hair that adorned her temples;
immediately thereupon, three little dimples in her right cheek. At last
I found happiness in a certain defective way she had of pronouncing the
letter R.
These and other discoveries of like importance could not be made, it is
evident, without due attention, all of which, instead of pleasing the
lady, annoyed her visibly. She always received me cordially, but not
with her former frankness of manner. I observed, not without pain, that
in spite of the gayety and animation of her conversation she revealed a
bit of disquiet in the depths, as if fearing that I might again say
something unwelcome. While comprehending this, nevertheless I had not
the force of will to stop gazing at her more than I should.
At last the wig was brought in secret to the hotel. Dona Amparo tried it
on in the most absolute privacy; she found it imperfect. It was returned
to the hands of its maker; various changes were effected in it without
either the public or the authorities becoming aware of the fact, and
after various trials equally secret the good lady emerged as fresh and
juvenile as if my sinful hands had never attacked her charms. For in
spite of all--that is, in spite of the wig, of years, and of
obesity--Dona Amparo had not completely lost her charms.
They invited me to take a drive with them through the environs of the
city. The pleasure with which I accepted may be imagined. On reaching
the country we alighted, and for an hour we feasted our eyes upon that
smiling and splendid landscape. I found myself happy, and this happiness
incited me to show towards Dona Cristina great deference and gentleness
of speech. I felt impelled to say to her everything beautiful and
interesting that occurred to me. But she, as if divining these perverse
tendencies of my tongue, curbed it with tact and firmness, asking me
some indifferent question whenever there seemed to be any danger of my
uttering something indiscreet, leaving me with her mamma while she went
on ahead, or taking pains to make her mother talk. This did not
dishearten me. I was so stupid, or so indiscreet, that in spite of these
clear signals I still persisted in seeking pretexts for directing
various whiffs of incense towards her. I declare, however, that I did
not think I was acting the gallant. I believed in good faith that such
obsequiousness and such flatteries were legitimate; for we Spaniards
from remote antiquity have arrogated to ourselves the right of telling
all pretty women that they are pretty, without other consequences. But
she cast doubts upon the correctness of such a proceeding. That these
doubts were not ill-founded I see clearly enough, now that the mist of
my sentiments has been completely dissipated and I read my soul as in an
open book.
It chanced that that same afternoon, on our way back to the city, seeing
the numerous and handsome country houses that we passed, Dona Cristina
remarked:
"Our place at Cabanal is very charming, but not sumptuous. My husband is
not satisfied with it; he wants something better."
"He wants something better?" I cried without stopping to think. "But if
I were your husband, I could desire nothing!"
The lady kept silence for a moment, turned her face towards the window
to look at the road, and murmured ironically,--
"Well, sir; let us have patience."
I believe that not only my cheeks, my forehead, and my ears turned
scarlet, but even the whites of my eyes. For several minutes I felt on
my face the impression of two red-hot bricks. I did not know what to
say, and seeking escape from my embarrassment I turned to the other
window and remained in ecstatic contemplation of the landscape. Dona
Amparo, who had remarked nothing, spoke in response to her daughter's
observation:
"Emilio is a very good man, very industrious, although somewhat
fantastic."
"How is he fantastic?" exclaimed Cristina, turning sharply, as if
struck. "Because he desires what is better, more beautiful, and seeks to
acquire it? That shows rather his good taste and good will. For if the
world did not have men who aspired to perfection, who always see a
'farther on' and who take steps to approach it, neither these handsome
country houses nor others still better, nor any of the comforts that we
enjoy to-day would exist. The idlers, the spendthrifts, and the poor in
spirit ridicule such ideas so long as they are not realized; but when
the hour comes that the ends aimed at can be seen and touched, they shut
themselves up in their houses and refuse to congratulate those who made
it possible because they do not care to confess their stupidity. Then
you know well that Emilio, however 'fantastic,' has never had the
fantasy to think of himself; that all his efforts are devoted to give
pleasure and prosperity to his family, to his friends, and to his
neighbors, and that all his life up to now has been a constant sacrifice
for others."
Dona Amparo, during this vehement discourse, showed herself strangely
affected. I was astonished to see her stammer, rub her eyes, grow red in
the face, and fall backward as if in a swoon.
"I--is it possible?--my son!"
Uttering these incoherent words, she swayed, then seemed to lose all
sense of the external world. To restore her to consciousness it was
necessary for her daughter to bathe her temples with eau de Cologne and
apply sal-volatile to her nostrils. When at last she opened her eyes
there burst forth a flood of tears that flowed down her cheeks and
poured into her lap like a copious rain, some of which moistened my
coat. At these symptoms Dona Cristina again opened the little satchel
that she carried, that I could see contained numerous little flasks. She
took one of these, together with a lump of sugar, and moistened the
latter with several drops of liquid. She thrust the sugar into her
mother's mouth; that lady gradually recovered her senses and at last was
conscious of her whereabouts and of who was with her.
On my part, being the indirect cause of the unfortunate scene, I
understood that nothing would be more suitable than for me to throw
myself out of the carriage window, even though I should fracture my
head; but imagining that the results of such a procedure might be too
melancholy, I hit upon a decorous substitute by biting at the head of my
cane and staring into vacancy. Dona Cristina did not choose to take
cognizance of these tragic manifestations, but they so penetrated the
heart of her mamma that the latter seized my hands convulsively,
murmuring occasionally:
"Ribot! Ribot! Ribot!"
Fearing that she might again enter into the world of the unconscious, I
hastened to take the flask of salts and hold it to her nose.
The rest of the way back, heaven be praised! was traversed without
further mishap, and I made desperate efforts to have my foolishness
forgotten and forgiven, talking with all formality about various things,
principally of those most to the taste of Dona Cristina. At length I was
rewarded by seeing her bright face again unclouded and her eyes
expressing their accustomed frank joyousness. And, prompted by her
humor, she even went so far as to make gracious fun of her mamma.
"Did you know, Captain Ribot, that mamma never swoons except when she is
with the family, or among persons in whom she confides? The greatest
proof of the sympathy with which you inspire her is that which she has
just given."
"Cristina! Cristina!" exclaimed Dona Amparo, half smiling, half
indignant.
"Now, be frank, mamma! If Captain Ribot has not won your confidence, how
is it you ventured to faint away in his presence?"
Dona Amparo decided to laugh, giving her daughter a pinch. When we
parted at the hotel door they invited me to breakfast with them the next
day, they having decided to leave for Madrid on the day after that.
It could no longer be doubted; if I was not in love I was on the way to
be, with a fair wind and all sails set. Why was it that this woman had
impressed me so profoundly in so short a time? I do not think it was
merely her figure, although it coincided with the ideal type of beauty
that I had always adored. If I had fallen in love with all the white and
slender women with dark eyes that I had met in the course of my life,
there would not have remained any time to do anything else. But she had
a special attractiveness, at least for me, which consisted in a singular
combination of joyousness and gravity, of sweetness and brusqueness, of
daring and timidity, alternately reflected in her expressive
countenance.
The next day, at the appointed time, I presented myself at the hotel.
Dona Cristina was in most delightful humor and let me know that we were
to breakfast alone, for her mother had not slept well the night before
and was still in bed. This filled me with selfish satisfaction,
observing her merry mood. Before going to the table she served me an
appetizer, graciously ridiculing me.
"Since you always have such a delicate appetite, and look so
languishing, I have ordered something bitter for you, to see if we
cannot give a little tone to that stomach of yours."
I fell in with the jest.
"I am in despair. I comprehend that it is ridiculous to have such a
ready appetite, but I am a man of honor and I confess it. One time when
I attempted to conceal it I missed my reckoning. One of my passengers
was a certain very charming and spirituelle lady towards whom I felt
somewhat favorably disposed. I could think of no better means to inspire
her interest than to feign an absolute lack of appetite, naturally
accompanied by languor and poetic melancholy. At table I refused the
greater part of the dishes. My nourishment consisted of tapioca, vanilla
cream, some fruit, and much coffee. Then I complained of weakness, and
ordered glasses of sherry with biscuit. Of course I suffered terribly
from hunger; but I overcame it finely in solitude. The lady became
enthusiastic; she professed for me a profound and sincere admiration,
and despised for their grossness all those at the table who were served
with more solid nutriment. But, alas! there came a moment when she
unexpectedly came down into the dining-saloon and surprised me feasting
on cold ham. That ended the affair. She never spoke another word to me."
"She did right," said Dona Cristina, with a laugh. "Hypocrisy is
something more shameful than a good appetite."
We began our breakfast, and I gave her to understand that now that she
so abhorred hypocrisy I proposed to proceed with all possible frankness.
"That is right! Entirely frank!" And she served me an enormous ration of
omelette.
We went on chatting and laughing in undertones, but Dona Cristina did
not neglect to serve me with fabulous quantities of food, greater, in
truth, than my gastric capacity. I wanted to decline, but she would not
permit it.
"Be frank, Captain! You have promised to be entirely frank."
"Senora, this surpasses frankness. Anybody might call it grossness."
"I do not call it so. Go on! Go on!"
But soon, straightening herself back in her chair a bit, and assuming a
solemn tone, she spoke:
"Captain, I am now going to treat you as if you had not only saved my
mother's life, but mine as well. At one and the same time I wish to pay
you for her life and my own."
My eyes opened widely without my comprehending the significance of such
words. Dona Cristina rose from her chair and, going to the door, opened
it wide. There appeared the maid with a big dish of stewed tripe in her
hands.
"Tripe!" I exclaimed.
"Stewed by Senora Ramona," proclaimed Dona Cristina, gravely.
The joke put me in better humor yet. But how short was the duration of
that intoxicating delight! When we reached the dessert she informed me,
perfectly naturally:
"I have news for you. We are not going to-morrow. My husband is coming
for us the day after."
"Yes?" I exclaimed, with the expression of a man who is forced to talk
under a shower bath.
"Although the journey is a bit uncomfortable, coming and going again at
once, he says that as mamma has probably not yet completely recovered
from her shock he does not like to have us travel alone."
Saying this, she took the letter from her pocket and proceeded to look
it over. "He also tells me to give you a million thanks and is glad that
he is to have a chance to give them to you in person."
I was looking at the back of the letter, but I caught the words of the
ending: "Adios, life of my soul," and it augmented the sadness of my
mood. However, I expressed my satisfaction at the prospect of knowing
Senor Marti so soon, but it required some effort to say so. As
melancholy began to take possession of me, and as Dona Cristina was not
slow in perceiving the fact, I found no better means of combating it
than to take more cognac after my coffee than was prudent. This produced
an exaltation that resembled, without being, joyousness. I chattered
away, and must have uttered many ridiculous things and some of them wide
of the mark, although I cannot remember. Dona Cristina smiled
benevolently. But when, for the fifth or sixth time, I took the decanter
to pour out another thimbleful, she touched my arm, saying:
"You are already exceedingly frank, Captain. I will free you from your
word."
"I am its slave, senora, at the cost of my life," I replied, laughingly.
"But I will drink no more. I am resolved to obey you in this, as in
everything you may command. But nevertheless," I continued, looking
boldly into her eyes, "there are things that intoxicate more than cognac
and all spirituous beverages."
Dona Cristina's eyes fell and her fair face frowned. But instantly
smiling, she said vivaciously:
"But you must not intoxicate yourself in any fashion. I abhor
drunkards."
I did not wish to follow this advice; and though it is true I drank
little more, I insisted upon gazing at the fascinating lady. I continued
chatting like a dentist, and in the midst of my prattle I came near
giving utterance to more than one endearing phrase; but Dona Cristina,
ingeniously and prudently, cut these off before I had a chance to say
them.
We both rose from our seats. We went to the balcony to look at the
traffic and movement on the wharf. With her permission, I was smoking a
Havana cigar. As her beautiful head occupied my thoughts more than the
traffic on the wharf, I noted that a little shell comb was falling out
of her hair.
"If I were this little comb I should be very content with my place. I
would make no effort to escape."
And boldly, with no thought of what I did, I raised my hand to her head
and put the comb back in place.
She turned as red as a cherry, her eyes fell, and she remained silent
for several seconds; at last, looking me in the face with a lofty
expression, she said in a changed tone:
"Senor, I do not know what motive induces you to take any liberties with
me. The service you have rendered us entitles you to my gratitude, but
not to treat me without respect."
My semi-intoxication was dissipated as by magic. It left me petrified
and ashamed as I had never before been in my life and never expect to be
again, and I scarcely had power to murmur a few words of excuse. I
believe she did not hear them. She turned her back disdainfully and left
the room.
In about one moment afterwards there flashed through my mind an idea
that did not lack a certain probability, that is to say, that I was
superfluous in that place. And without waiting to examine it with
sufficient attention in the light of reasonable and serious criticism, I
put it immediately in practice, taking my hat and removing myself before
any grass had a chance to grow under my feet.
Though I was on shipboard and in the consignee's office and in other
parts of the city, shame did not quit me all day long. It was fastened
to my face with a red seal and I was unspeakably mortified. My friends
laughed and murmured such words as "Martel tres estrellas," "Jamaica,"
"Anis del Mono," and others which sounded like marks of liquors, but I
knew what ailed me, and this increased my woe. On the next day, after
washing and scrubbing myself energetically with soap, it seemed as if
there were some bits of that red seal still adhering to my skin.
Of course I did all I could to forget Dona Cristina and her so holy
name, and seemed to succeed throughout the day. But at night her image
would not leave my couch for a moment; it twitched my feet, it pulled my
hair, and later, to make it up to me for these shocking tribulations, it
gently inclined itself towards me and lightly touched my cheek with its
lips.
On awaking, a luminous idea attacked me. Marti was to arrive that day,
and it was my unavoidable duty to go to meet him at the station: first,
for courtesy's sake; second, to prevent his asking for me, and thereby
causing his wife any agitation; third, because my absence would surprise
Dona Amparo; fourth, because it was necessary not to reveal what had
occurred; fifth--I do not know what the fifth reason was, but I have an
idea that there was a fifth reason and that it had something to do with
the mad desire that I felt to see Dona Cristina again.
The mail train arrived in the afternoon. I therefore had sufficient time
to think over the bother of such a step and to change my purpose. But
after considering it in all its aspects and then considering it again
and making infinite efforts for heaven to touch my heart, I still did
not repent, and my feet conducted me to the station almost in spite of
myself.
On reaching the platform I saw my ladies talking with an employee.
Availing myself of the prodigious diplomatic aptitude with which heaven
had been so good as to favor me, I passed along behind them at a slow
pace and profoundly absorbed in the contemplation of a pile of beets.
"Ribot! Ribot!"
I stopped, filled with astonishment. I turned my head to the southeast,
then to the north, next to the northeast, and so on successively towards
all the points of the compass until, after many unfruitful efforts, I
succeeded in locating the direction from which the voice proceeded.
"Oh, senoras!"
I approached them, overflowing with astonishment, and seized the hand of
Dona Amparo. I started to do likewise with Cristina and--did I not say
before that this lady was distinguished by a white skin? The statement
must be corrected. At that moment she might have been born in Senegal.
I asked for her health without venturing to extend my hand, and she
responded, looking in another direction.
"How is this, Captain Ribot?" asked Dona Amparo. "All day yesterday you
did not come, or to-day either."
I excused myself, saying I had been occupied. Dona Amparo would not
accept my explanation and talked to me fondly. This lady showed herself
constantly more affectionate and amiable towards me. While we were
talking, Dona Cristina did not open her lips. I felt hurt and confused.
I did not venture to look her in the face, but observed her from the
corner of my eye and noted that her face, instead of recovering its
ordinary aspect, became more and more cloudy. Her eyes persisted in
gazing in the opposite direction from where I stood.
Dona Amparo, not remarking anything, monopolized the conversation. On my
part, I spoke little and incoherently. My having come at all was
weighing me down fearfully, and I had an impulse to leave under some
pretext, without awaiting the arrival of Marti. But before I could make
up my mind the station-guard sounded his trumpet announcing the train.
So it was no longer possible to go without grave discourtesy.
The train came into the station, and among the goodly number of heads
that suddenly showed themselves at the car windows the eyes of Dona
Cristina discovered that of her husband.
"Emilio!" she cried joyfully.
"Cristina!" he replied in a like tone.
And without waiting for the train to come to a full stop he leaped out
and embraced and kissed her effusively. But she, blushing like a
schoolgirl, and at the same time smiling with pleasure, brusquely freed
herself from his arms.
"Always the same!" he exclaimed, laughing heartily, as he extended his
hand to his mother-in-law.
She, however, was not satisfied with his hand and seized him by the head
like a child and kissed him repeatedly, asking with hearty interest
about his journey as he inquired about her health.
While they were talking I maintained a respectful distance from the
group. And then it was that Dona Cristina turned her eyes towards me
with a friendly smile, at the same time beckoning me to approach. That
unexpected smile caused me such pleasure and surprise that I could
scarcely hide my feelings. I hastened to obey.
"He saved mamma!" she said, with a little emphasis, presenting me to her
husband.
He grasped my hands affectionately, expressing boundless thanks. He was
a man of twenty-eight or thirty years, tall, slender, pale-faced and
black-eyed, his beard also black, silky, and abundant; a Levantine type,
like his wife--but delicate and fragile, at least in appearance.
"Thanks to his bravery, we are not mourning a misfortune to-day,"
continued the lady.
"Senora!" I exclaimed, "the action was of no merit whatever. Any passing
sailor would have done the same."
But she, paying no attention, went on to relate what happened with all
details, exaggerating my conduct.
This panegyric from her mouth, after what had happened, caused me more
shame than pleasure. I felt the pangs of remorse, and what at first had
seemed to me a slight imprudence now appeared a lack of delicacy.
Returning to the town I left them at the hotel door, refusing to stop
with them, in spite of Marti's insistence. In these first moments the
presence of a stranger might be unwelcome. But I agreed to take coffee
with him that evening at the Suizo. I hoped that he might bring his
wife, for she enjoyed taking a walk after dinner.
But the hope was not realized. Marti came alone, saying that his wife
was fatigued and indisposed. I thought this a pretext, and it made me
sad. Perhaps that first moment had exhausted her effusive gratitude, and
distrust and rancor had returned to her heart.
In less than an hour, Marti and I were excellent friends. He struck me
as a sympathetic person, of open nature, affectionate, cheerful, and
candid. The hundred affairs that occupied him did not leave him much
time to give to any one thing. In his conversation he sped lightly from
one affair to another, but showed himself ever wide-awake and energetic.
I let him talk, observing him with intense curiosity. The impression
from that first conversation that best remains with me was his fashion
of rumpling his wavy hair, running his fingers back through it after
the manner of a comb, and giving a little cough when about to express
some idea that he deemed important. This mannerism, which in another
might perhaps seem ridiculous, had in him a gracious effect, boyish and
attractive. I cannot clearly express the sentiments that Marti inspired
in me at that time. They were an indefinable mixture of sympathy and
repugnance, of curiosity and jealousy, which can be accounted for only
by one who has found himself in a situation analogous to mine.
The _Urano_ was to weigh anchor the next day at flood-tide in the
afternoon. In the morning I presented myself at the hotel to take leave
of my new friends. Marti and his mother-in-law warmly expressed their
regret at my departure. Cristina did not make her appearance. She was
shut in her chamber at her toilet, as I understood, and had not the
kindness to have me asked to wait; on the contrary, she dismissed me so
abruptly that she seemed to fear I might.
"_Adios_, Captain Ribot!" she called from within. "Pardon me for not
coming out; it is impossible at this moment. May you have a most happy
voyage; and again you have a million thanks from me. We can never forget
what you have done. A pleasant trip!"
Marti urged me to breakfast with them, but I had much to do and
declined. Moreover, I must confess I felt so melancholy that I wanted
to get into the street. He, as well as Dona Amparo, offered me a
thousand inducements to run down to Valencia on my return to Barcelona,
where the steamer always stayed for eight or ten days. He, as well as
his wife, would take great pleasure in entertaining me at their home. I
was obliged to promise to do so, but with the definite intention of not
complying.
It was always difficult to get away from the ship; and the coldness of
Dona Cristina gave me no encouragement to make such a visit.
In the afternoon Marti came on board to press my hand once more before
my departure. He again urged me cordially not to fail to make them a
visit. Again I made the promise, with the mental reservation already
mentioned. We finally bade each other a most affectionate farewell and I
put to sea, continuing my voyage to Hamburg.