I thought this matter over, and my purpose became fixed during my
voyage. I found that, although not rich, I had enough to live
comfortably on; and when I returned to Barcelona I offered my
resignation to the shipping house.
I cannot clearly explain the sentiments whose tumult at that time filled
my soul. Confusion reigned therein. Intense love for Cristina, the
angelic beauty and innocence of Retamoso's girl, the desire for repose
and for a comfortable and tranquil life that all men feel on arriving at
a certain state, and the sharp prickings of conscience that questioned
my right to obtain it under such conditions, struggled together within
me. But there was one sentiment which, however silenced, was stronger
than the others--the ardent desire to be near Cristina, to live in her
intimate circle, and never to lose sight of her charming face. I held no
thoughts against the peace of her heart or the honor of her husband, but
only to be happy enjoying her presence all of my life.
In this mind, neither saint-like nor criminal, I took the train for
Valencia two months after I had left it. In a train that passed mine in
a station on the way, I caught a glimpse, through a window, of the
silhouette of Sabas, and near it the red head of a woman who was not
Matilde.
"Sabas, Sabas!" I called.
When he saw me, he saluted me affectionately with his hand. The lady who
was beside him also smiled cordially; I did not see why, for I did not
know her. I remained puzzled. I was doubtful if I had not been mistaken.
Was it really Matilde? I was not long in finding out.
I reached Valencia before dark. After leaving my things at the inn, I
hired a conveyance to take me out to Cabanal, where I knew that Marti
was now installed. I was anxious to consult with him about my plans. As
I drew near the country house I felt my heart beating violently. This
roused anew my sentiment of honor. "Are we like this?" I said to myself
scornfully. "While thinking of binding yourself by a sacred fetter, of
offering yourself to an innocent young girl, you cannot control your
impulses! You are going to press the hand of a friend, to make him your
confidant, your kinsman, while still your spirit is not cleansed of
traitorous thoughts!"
The family was assembled in the dining-room. I observed at once a
certain sadness and unusual gravity on their faces. They all wore long
faces, filled with a consternation that alarmed me excessively. Marti
embraced me, however, with his accustomed cordiality, showing sincere
delight at my arrival. I gave my hand to the others and, coming to
Matilde, I said to her, without stopping to think:
"So you are a widow? I saw your husband in a station. We had no chance
to speak, but we greeted each other."
I had not finished uttering these words before I was stupefied by her
beginning to weep bitterly. She pressed my hand convulsively and,
between the sobs that rent her breast, said:
"Thanks, Ribot! Many thanks! My husband was running away with the young
lady."
"I saw a red-headed lady beside him, but I did not think--" I stammered,
abashed.
"Yes, yes, the young lady," she sobbed.
"Forgive me, but what has been said can't be unsaid; but, yes, she
seemed young to me."
"She would like to seem young! She is more than thirty years old!" she
cried angrily; "more painted and bedizzened than a doll in a bazaar. You
should see her mornings on her balcony!"
Marti came to my aid, saying in low tones:
"She was the young lady in the company acting at the theatre."
"Ah!"
Everybody kept still and looked at the floor as one does when paying a
visit of condolence. Nothing could be heard in the room but the
increasingly poignant sobs of the outraged wife. The situation was
trying, agonizing in the highest degree. Fortunately Dona Amparo had the
happy inspiration to faint away, and this accident introduced an element
of variety into the scene which we immediately improved. We ran to her
aid. We opened flasks with shining stoppers. The dining-room was filled
with the penetrating fragrances of the apothecary's shop. Tears,
embraces, sighs, kisses. At last her equilibrium was restored, and she
came to herself.
I thought I would lose my head in the odor of ether; but before this
could happen Marti drew me from the room, and carried me off to his
office.
"Did you ever see such a wretched affair?" he cried, shaking his head in
immense annoyance.
"But what is it all?"
"Nothing; the other night he won three or four thousand pesetas at play,
and he has gone gayly off to spend them with an actress."
"What madness! But he will come back!"
"I believe you; he'll come back when he has run through with every
dollar, as he did the other time."
"The other time?"
"Yes; three or four years ago he eloped with a circus-rider. But then he
carried off more money than this time."
I had no wish to seek for more details, for I saw that Marti was going
to break down. There is nothing sadder than the sadness of a happy man.
To distract him, I turned the conversation, and talked of myself and the
projects I had under way. His face changed at once, and a cheerful smile
played about his mouth.
"Bravo, Captain! At last you are going to be our own," he cried, hugging
me until he choked me.
We talked the matter over carefully. At last we decided that,
considering my age and character, I must not conduct myself like a
youth, but with all due formality. After gaining the consent of
Isabelita, which Marti seemed to think already assured, I must, before
entering upon our relations, visit her people and talk seriously with
them. This plan captured his imagination and he drove along assuredly.
He cheered me, embraced me several times, calling me cousin, and
promising me to help me all that he could, and promised, too, that
Cristina would do the same.
We returned to the dining-room. Our cheerful countenances were in great
contrast to the solemn and dejected ones there. Dona Amparo's eyes still
showed the water-marks of their recent flood. Matilde--there is no
saying how she was. Isabelita, who was staying with her cousins,
received me with the same blushes, but without any great signs of
rejoicing, which I attributed to the trouble her family was in. Castell
was, as always, cold and disdainful. Cristina--I cannot express how I
found Cristina. Her eyes had a strange sadness, which impressed me
painfully. I at once imagined that she found herself bowed beneath the
burden of some great wrong, and that this could be nothing else but the
infamous gallantry of Castell. Perhaps he had narrowed the circle.
Perhaps--oh, what a thought!
All at once I saw her eyes brighten with delight at the entrance of the
nurse with my god-daughter in her arms. She was a beautiful rosebud,
fresh, sweet, delicate, and probably, as that is the rule, dowered with
marvellous intelligence. Marti would have testified to that with his
blood.
To carry conviction to our minds, he found no more adequate means than
to enter upon a series of mimic representations, certain of which had a
surprising success. First he intoned a hymn of the Church with the voice
of a precentor. The little girl at once began to put up her lips and
burst out crying. Then he sang some _sequidillas_, and the youngster at
once cheered up and began to bounce, trying to get down on the floor,
doubtless to run away on all fours. He barked, he mewed, he crowed like
a cock, and we understood at once that the little one had no lack of
zoological notions, but had an idea of the classifications introduced in
the animal kingdom.
Marti demonstrated the thesis in a way which left no room for doubt, and
proud of the impression on the assemblage that his notable experiments
succeeded in making, he considered it proper next to take the child from
her nurse's arms and toss her up and down in his own like a bottle of
ink. Maybe he imagined that by this method of concentration he would
invigorate still more her psychic faculties. But he did not go on with
this long enough to make her black. The little creature, not
familiarized with his novel method, objected to it with loud screams and
all the indignation of her soul. Cristina took her, did all that she
could to hush her, and gave her again to the nurse, who was the one who
really brought calm into her outraged heart.
Before we went in to supper, they obliged me to dismiss my cab. Castell
would take me back in his own. I tried to get out of this, because the
company of this gentleman grew constantly more distasteful to me; but it
was not possible. Emilio, with his characteristic impetuosity and slight
knowledge of men, gave the order to the coachman to depart.
They placed me beside Isabelita. Everybody would say that that was
perfectly natural, and that I ought to have been whispering to her all
the evening. Of this I have nothing to say. Perchance, if they had been
asked if I should touch her foot gently with my own and fondle her hand
underneath the table, some of them would have held a contrary opinion
and would have discussed it more or less at length. But I, deciding that
the majority would finally decide in favor of it, did not hesitate in
anticipating the decisions of such a tribunal.
At twenty minutes after ten I settled down in a corner of the
dining-room where Retamoso's girl was, and where I could chat freely
with her. I told her first that she was the only woman in the world who
could make me happy; second, that by my frank and sympathetic character,
and by my honorable intentions--and because of the voice I said it in--I
deserved what would make me happy. In accordance with these things I was
resolved that on the following day I would give an account of this
matter to Senor and Senora Retamoso. It was then twenty-five minutes
after ten.
Our deliberations continued a little longer. Castell was accustomed to
depart at eleven, and he asked me politely if I wished to do the same. I
agreed, as was proper, since the family would wish to retire, and we
betook ourselves to the city. During the ride I had occasion to think
once more that it was an error of nature that I had hair on my face, and
that instead of a hat I should have covered my childish thoughts with a
thick hood. That gentleman, penetrating into the secret laboratory of
life, arranged the facts of being in his mind, taking pains to pit his
ideas against my inexperienced reasonings; sometimes yawning, again
smilingly pardoning my puerilities. Take it all together, he handled me
so well that, in consequence, I could feel a real hood on my head. But
that which stirred me up most was his gracious manner of considering me
a man; and the recognition of this attitude towards me irritated me more
than ever, and I swore between my teeth that I would never ride again in
his cab, but would, instead, go on my own feet.
Next day, solemnly attired in a coat which had made the voyage to
America eleven times and to Hamburg thirty-seven, I presented myself at
the Retamoso house. It was situated on the Plaza del Mercado, not far
from the Lorija, and was more substantial than beautiful, of modern
construction, only one floor above the business rooms, with a plain
front destitute of ornamental carvings, with three large doors and three
little stone balconies. But it was much more spacious than its exterior
promised. Its warerooms, occupying the corner part, were large and high
as the salons of a palace. Great piles of codfish, barrels of flour and
of alcohol, cases of sugar and cocoa filled it, forming narrow and
intricate passages. Through these I went, half-suffocated by the
distasteful odors of these products of overseas, and preceded by a
clerk with a pen behind his ear, until I reached the back of the room,
where there were three glass doors, giving upon a _patio_. Near one of
these was a low railing of pine, painted green; in the middle, a single
table and a big desk; and behind the table and the desk, a little man
with an embroidered velvet skull-cap. It was himself, Senor Retamoso.
"Senor de Ribot! What good fortune is this?" he exclaimed, rising to
come out of the enclosure, making numberless bows, and lifting his hand
as many times more to his skull-cap. "To what do we owe the honor?"
"I wish to speak a few words to you," I answered, casting a significant
glance at the clerk, who, understanding, disappeared in the zigzag
passages.
The face of Senor Retamoso underwent an enormous change. The delight
that had overspread it was swiftly succeeded by a deep sadness. It was
as if a cloud had intercepted in an unexpected fashion the rays of life
and warmth, withering and drying up that which a moment before had been
joyous welcome.
"Very well. I will be with you in a moment," he murmured, re-entering
the enclosure, carefully locking the safe and putting the key in his
trousers pocket.
This done, he came out and, facing me, said in a glacial way:
"I am at your service."
"This good man thinks I have come to beg money," I said to myself,
surprised at this change.
"The occasion of this visit," I said with hesitation, "is a little
delicate. It is possible that you know."
"I know nothing," he declared, resolutely cutting me short.
"I meant to say it is possible that you have suspected----"
"I have suspected nothing," he said in turn, more dryly still.
A little irritated by these interruptions, I said with spirit:
"It is all the same. You are going to know now. It has to do with a
certain sympathetic understanding established between your daughter
Isabelita and me. As this sympathy might in time be transformed into
affection, and be carried to the point of loving relations, I thought
that I ought to consult the will of her parents. My age forbids
flirtations or a clandestine courtship. Further, the friendship that
binds me to Marti, in whose house I had the honor of meeting your
daughter, and the kindness, however unmerited, with which your wife and
you have honored me, oblige me to conduct myself frankly and loyally."
The round face of Uncle Diego resumed its first expression. The cloud
that intercepted the rays of delight had been chased away.
"Oh, Senor de Ribot! What do I hear? I knew nothing. I had heard
nothing. I am a poor man. Why not go to my wife, who understands it much
better, and will know what I ought to answer?" he exclaimed smiling, all
honey, lifting his hand to his embroidered skull-cap, and throwing back
his leg so as to make a deeper bow.
"I thought of seeing both of you."
"Oh, Senor de Ribot! But why? Come, come with me. I will take you to the
place where you can adjust this account. I know nothing about these
experiences, but there is one in the house who knows more than Merlin.
Take care, Senor de Ribot, take good care. Keep your stirrups. Whoever
has to come to an understanding with my lady needs the use of his head."
Going on like this, he conducted me to a staircase, and by it we
ascended to the principal story. Once arrived, he squeezed my hand hard
between his own, and, in a falsetto voice, recommended me to look out
for myself when talking before his wife, and not be disconcerted in her
presence. He promised that he would help me all that he was able, but
that I must not expect much, as he also felt constraint before Dona
Clara.
"She is a deep woman, Senor de Ribot. When I say this, I say all."
Without freeing me, he led me to the door of a parlor, and gave two
knocks upon it with his knuckles; the voice of Dona Clara was heard,
saying:
"Enter."
Retamoso again squeezed my hand to encourage me, and we entered the
apartment.
Dona Clara was discovered dressed in black, as correct and elegant as
ever, seated in a leather chair, with a book in her hands. She took from
her aquiline nose her gold-bowed glasses and let them hang suspended
over her breast by their golden chain. She gave me her hand, at the same
time casting upon me a look so imposing that, in spite of the valor
wherewith her spouse had inspired me, I could do no less than tremble.
Then she took her tragic figure up out of her chair and went and sat
down in the middle of a sofa of green velvet, inviting us by a gesture
to place ourselves in the arm-chairs that were on either side. We obeyed
orders, and Retamoso, finding no more excellent resource as a
preparation for the session than to rub his knees with the palms of his
hands, looked at me meanwhile sadly and anxiously.
"Senor de Ribot," he said at last, "I beg you to tell my wife what you
have just had the kindness to tell me."
"It has to do, senora," I said in a trembling voice, "with a delicate
matter that I desire to submit to the approval of you both. So if I take
the liberty of speaking of it to you, it is solely that, no matter
what, it cannot be said that I lacked in showing the respect and esteem
with which you inspire me. Between Isabelita and me an especial
friendship, is beginning to take shape----"
"I know it," interrupted Dona Clara solemnly.
There followed a moment of suspense, then I went on:
"Isabelita, because of the gifts of character, innocence, and modesty
which adorn her, deserves not only affection, but hearty admiration. I
cannot, naturally, explain all the charm that she has for me since I
have felt myself attracted towards her. I found courage to give her to
understand this, and I flatter myself to think that she did not take it
ill. Until now no bond has existed between us, except a sensitive
attraction----"
"I know it," said Dona Clara once more, with the same solemnity.
I felt even more constrained. Retamoso gave me several encouraging
grins, and taking breath, I was able to go on:
"From then until now I can affirm that there has been nothing serious
between us. I could not do otherwise, as I would never think of aspiring
without the permission of her parents. But however this inclination may
seem unexpected, when I embarked for Hamburg two months ago, I carried
the thought with me, and the resolution to strengthen this dawning
friendship----"
"I know it," once more said Dona Clara with even more solemnity, if that
were possible.
I remained mute and confused, giving up my disclosures, which the
supernatural penetration of this lady left useless. But I could not help
admiring the singular contrast between these consorts--he knew nothing,
she knew everything.
Retamoso gave me several mischievous winks, making me understand that
this was to be expected and had nothing surprising in it. Dona Clara, at
the end of a short silence, held herself up still more erect, and
blowing her nose in a manner to inspire a monkey with awe, said:
"Before going farther, I beg you to let us continue the conversation in
English. The subject is so serious and delicate that it demands it."
I profess and have always professed a great admiration for the language
and literature of Great Britain. On the little book-shelf of my cabin
voyaged always the "Tom Jones" of Fielding, the "Don Juan" of Byron, and
certain books of Shakespeare. But, in spite of this admiration, I had
never supposed that it was the only idiom in which grave and delicate
subjects could be treated. I did not seek, however, to oppose this fine
philological stroke, nor to discuss the preference that the stern mamma
of Isabelita showed for one branch of the Indo-European languages over
its sister tongues, and hastened to yield to her request. With this the
surprise, delight, and grins of Retamoso reached a climax. He put his
finger to his forehead, arched his eyebrows, opened his eyes absurdly,
and several times when Dona Clara could not see, being turned towards
me, he lifted his hands to heaven, murmuring unheard:
"What a woman! What a woman!"
Dona Clara, without being at all set up by this idolatrous worship, let
me know in guttural and emphatic English that nothing of all I had said,
done, or thought had been hid from her, and that she knew also all that
had been said, done, or thought by her daughter Isabelita. This
declaration filled my mind with a feeling of littleness and limitation
that ended by humbling me. In the impossibility, then, of supplying any
facts she did not know, or of uttering one thought worthy of the
intellectual height of this lady, I took upon myself the role of calming
down, submitting my feeble reasons beforehand to her own.
After sniffing several times like a ship displaying its banner on
weighing anchor in a port, and after fixing upon her nose her gold-bowed
glasses to contemplate me for a while in silence, Dona Clara found it
well to give me some account of her intentions. Isabelita was a child, I
was a man. Laying down these two propositions, at first sight
undeniable. Dona Clara logically deduced from them that it was necessary
to be careful. A child does not generally know what she wants; a man is
in duty bound to know. Further, it was impossible to put aside what I
wished for.
"Senor de Ribot," Retamoso at this point interrupted, "will you be so
kind as to put what my wife says to you into Castilian for me?"
This was done, and when he found out what was meant, he expressed noisy
enthusiasm, exclaiming energetically:
"Just so! That's it! Exactly! That's it, that's it! Just so! That's it!"
Dona Clara did not pay the slightest attention to these words, and
keeping her nose pointed the same way, submitted me to a long and
careful examination. Although I was sufficiently upset, I answered her
questions clearly, and had the satisfaction of noting certain slight
signs of acquiescence that touched my pride. She examined my
pretensions, and (as a result of the conscientious investigation
concerning my conduct, which was carried to the extreme) Dona Clara
declared at last, turning her head slowly towards her husband like a
globe revolving on its axis, that I was "a decent person," a thing that
I had never doubted in my most extravagant moments.
Every phase of the investigation was successively and faithfully
interpreted by me into Castilian, so that Senor Retamoso could
understand. Everything won from him the same warm approval, and was
greeted with a salvo of "That's it's!" and "Just so's!"
Dona Clara terminated the interview by rising from the sofa, and with
the same firmness, the same impassive calm and sang-froid, let me know
that here would be my home, and that she would have much pleasure in
receiving me whenever I wished to come. Saying this, she let her glasses
drop by means of a clever and surprising jerk of her nose, and presented
me her hand. I took it with the greatest veneration.
"Permit me, Senor de Ribot! One moment, one moment, no more!" exclaimed
Retamoso, who, following our example, had also risen. "I have not the
knowledge that my wife has, nor do I understand foreign tongues. So I am
not sure that I understand all that you desire. It seemed to me that I
understood that there is something between you and Isabelita."
"Are we still there?" I said between my teeth, looking at him with
surprise and anxiety. As for Dona Clara, she cast a look upon him that
might have ground him to powder.
"Yes, senor," I replied shortly at last.
"Bear with me, Senor de Ribot. I am a little slow of understanding, and
especially in matters so fine as these. Yet I believe I understood
(pardon me if I mistake) that you desire our permission to pay court to
her. Pardon me, for heaven's sake, if I do not express myself like you
two."
"Yes, senor, I desire your authorization to confirm my relations with
Isabelita."
"Precisely! That's it! I see that I am not mistaken. Well, then, sir, I
am agreeable to all that Dona Clara has said, and if she had said more,
I should be still more agreeable. You already know my opinion of you,
Senor de Ribot. When there is a head in the house capable of giving
useful advice in all affairs, why bother one's head discussing them?
Only I desire that in this nothing is promised on our side. For the
present, nothing is settled. If later, Senor de Ribot, we are of the
same opinion, and all come to an understanding, we shall be able to talk
in another fashion. My wife has already talked in another fashion, and I
have not cut her short; but you understand me, senor?"
I understood perfectly that this crafty Galician, before giving his
word, wished to find out exactly how much I was worth. I let myself be
imposed upon by the ruse. I accepted what he proposed, saying that my
visit was not an official one, but merely a simple call of courtesy and
respect, and that I desired that they should retain their liberty, as I
retained my own.
"That's it! Just so! Nothing is settled."
Dona Clara had maintained her rigid and immovable position while we
were talking, gazing into space over our heads in an attitude solemn and
disdainful; nothing would give an idea how grandiose it was, except the
Minerva of Phidias on top of the Acropolis, if by chance this work of
the antique pagan master had been preserved intact until our time. She
remained thus until I, taking myself to the stairway, disappeared from
her horizon. Retamoso went down stairs with me, took me as far as the
door, pulled off his skull-cap, and uttering a thousand oh's and ah's,
pressed both my hands with inexplicable tenderness, and said in my ear,
as he dismissed me, "It is understood, Senor de Ribot, that nothing is
settled, isn't it? My opinion is that nothing should be settled."
My good Marti laughed not a little when I related to him the details of
this interview. He congratulated me warmly, and, carried away by his
fanciful optimism, he sketched out twenty plans, each more agreeable
than the last, for my future. I was to become very rich, and be
associated with him and Castell in a steamboat line whose direction
should be my charge. I should also have a part in the business of the
artesian wells when they began to strike water. In regard to the canals
from the river, he expressed sincere regret that it was impossible at
present to give me anything to do. I replied that that did not weigh on
me; I would try to live without it. My resignation moved him so much
that he finished by saying, running both hands through his tresses:
"I shall be very much annoyed if, after all, we don't find a way for you
to get a show in this business, for it is going to be the best thing
ever done in Spain before to-day."
When what had taken place was made known to Cristina, she showed herself
more affectionate and kind to me than usual. I observed, none the less,
on her face a melancholy expression that she tried in vain to conceal.
She made a visible effort to appear gay, but at the best she seemed a
bit absent, and her great black eyes were often fixed upon space,
revealing deep absorption.
I stayed to supper with them. We were at table, besides the married
couple and their mamma, Isabelita, Castell, and Matilde, with all her
children, who entertained us very much. The deserted wife, whose eyes
were now always red, smiled sadly, seeing the tenderness and enthusiasm
with which these little creatures inspired me. There was not lacking
someone--I think it was Dona Amparo--to hint that I was going to be a
most affectionate father, which caused Isabelita a veritable suffocation
of blushes. This color came back several times during supper, because
Marti thought well to season it with more or less transparent allusions
to our future kinship. Above all, when he opened a bottle of champagne,
and, lifting the goblet, drank to the wish "that Captain Ribot would
cast anchor in Valencia for life," the cheeks of his cousin did not set
fire to the house, because, fortunately, there was no combustible
material stowed near them.
When we rose from table to take a turn in the garden, I offered my arm
to Cristina. I had a lively desire to talk with her, to sound her soul,
which seemed to me to be disturbed. Before seeking refuge in another
port, where the fate that was controlling me was drawing me, I ought to
know that it was the will of God; but never, never could I forget that
dream of love. This was the truth. Although I had made heroic efforts to
drive it away, thinking of other scenes, other joys, other duties, it
returned persistently to charm my nights and to disturb my conscience.
I had already taken her hand upon my arm when Castell, coming up to us
and making a little bow, said:
"Have we not arranged that this evening I was to be your escort?" At the
same time he cast upon her a particular look; it was threatening, and
did not soften the cold smile that played about his lips.
Cristina responded with a timid glance and hastened to release my arm
from her own, saying in an altered voice:
"Thank you, Captain Ribot. Enrique had invited me before----"
And they departed down the stairway. From above, when the light of the
vestibule fell upon their faces, I could see that Castell was talking to
her with an angry gesture, as if he were making recriminations, and that
she was excusing herself with the greatest humility.
Oh, God! the veil that had hid the truth from me was swiftly torn away.
That man must even now be her lover. All the blood in my veins rushed to
my heart. I felt giddy and was obliged to grasp the railing so as not to
fall.