"Nothing."
"I thought so."
Brutandor, without heeding the irony of those words, began to whisper,
bringing his mouth close to his friend's ear:--
"I have been for the last fortnight at La Florida, hiding in the house
of the laundrymen...."
"Man! if I had known it, I should have made you a visit."
"Don't say anything about visits! They might follow you, and get their
hands on me."
"And how have you enjoyed your visit in the country?"
"I had a pretty fair sort of time. There was only one bed in the house;
in the night while the laundrymen were asleep, I would go out, and take
a walk along the river bank, and at sunrise, when the men were up, I
used to go to bed."
"How cool and delightful it must have been!"
"Well, sometimes it would nauseate me a little; do you wonder? The
Countess de Rios used to send me my meals with great precautions,
changing the servant every time.... But day before yesterday the
laundryman did not sleep in the house, and this, as you can easily
imagine, worried me...."
"That's clear; when laundrymen don't sleep at home, it's a very bad
sign."
"This morning I saw him with two bad-looking men ... suspicious
characters, and so, fearing that they might hand me over to the police,
I decided to leave the place. The waiter in a wretched cafe there sold
me this disguise, and after it got to be dark, I made my escape without
saying a word. I thought of going to Las Ventas del Espiritu Santo, but
the police keep track of all such places. Then a brilliant idea struck
me,--that of coming to your house. How the deuce would they ever think
of my being here! A lady-love of mine years ago used to hide her letters
among her father's papers, and he would go hunting for them all over the
house."
"So that you stole the idea from your sweetheart? You ought to be
original even at the cost of arrest!... However, I am delighted that you
came. I cannot help being flattered greatly to have in my house a
conspirator of so much importance.... For you do not realize the
prestige that you enjoy, nor what is said about you on this account...."
"Really?" exclaimed Mendoza, flushing with pleasure.
"I assure you. You are called one of the heroes of the revolution....
But, my dear sir, what is worth much costs much; the greater the name
you win among the revolutionists, the more exposed you will find
yourself to whatever noose the government may tie for you. If they catch
you now, I am inclined to think that you won't get off without being
shot."
"Do you think so?" asked Brutandor, growing frightfully pale.
"I do, indeed.... But don't be alarmed; they won't think of coming here
after you."
"See here, I beg of you, keep the servants from knowing anything about
it, because you see some little word might get out through them ... and
I should be lost!"
"It is rather a hard matter to deceive them," replied Miguel, laughing
at the tone in which his friend spoke those last words.
Mendoza took up his abode in the house; but first it was necessary to
have a trunk brought from his lodging, and for him to change his clothes
in Miguel's bedroom; when this was accomplished he went out cautiously,
and soon returned like an ordinary visitor.
By these manoeuvres he deceived himself, and was convinced that he had
deceived the servants....
Maximina did not fancy having the guest. She was so happy living alone
with her husband! Nevertheless, with her usual docility to his wishes,
she said not a word, nor showed in her face any sign of dissatisfaction.
While Miguel was away from home, Mendoza spent his time with her, but
whole hours passed without their exchanging a dozen words. The young
girl of Pasajes was not a very deep thinker. And Mendoza, as we know,
was in the habit of keeping to himself the good things that came to his
mind. Still she watched him closely out of the corner of her eyes, and
afterwards gave her husband the benefit of her impressions. Though she
tried to make the best of them, it was evident that they were not very
flattering.
"It seems to me that Mendoza hasn't pleased you very well."
Maximina smiled, and said nothing.
"Well, he is an unfortunate."
"I imagine that he is not as fond of you as you are of him; that nothing
in the world is quite as important as himself."
"Perhaps you are right, but it can't be denied that he is _simpatico_.
His egotism amuses me; it is like a child's."
Maximina, as her habit was, sat silently trying to evolve through her
mental consciousness the meaning of _simpatico_[21]; but her efforts
remained unsuccessful.
Five days after his arrival, Mendoza received a letter from the Countess
de Rios, inclosing another from her husband. Both reached their
destination by passing through various hands. The general said that the
party who furnished the money for publishing _La Independencia_ gave him
to understand that he would not give another quarter unless he were
guaranteed the thirty thousand duros which he had already spent. As he
could not address himself to any of his friends, and judged that his
wife was not a suitable person for the transaction, he charged him at
all hazards to have an interview with the "white horse," and try to get
a subscription that would be effective in pacifying him, because the
paper had been a constant loss to them in these critical times.
Mendoza handed the letter to Rivera.
Although he had no connection with the financial administration of _La
Independencia_, Rivera had for some time been conversant with the
monetary difficulties with which the journal was struggling. After
reading the letter carefully, he said, looking up:--
"Well, what now?"
"Well, as you can imagine, I cannot undertake this commission, because I
do not go out of doors...."
"And so you want me to fill the gap, do you?"
Mendoza was silent, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.
"Well then, my friend," said the brigadier's son in a determined voice,
"I am sorry to tell you that I will not undertake to ask money or
guarantees of money from any one."
Both were silent for some time after these words. At last Mendoza,
without lifting his eyes from the floor, and evidently disturbed, began
to speak:--
"I believe that if you were willing, the matter might be arranged
without asking money of any one.... Eguiburu will be satisfied if only
your name is endorsed, and he will furnish all that is necessary each
month...."
Miguel looked at him keenly, while the other stood still with downcast
eyes; then he said, with a laugh:--
"You are indeed a man of happy ideas! If you die before I do, I shall be
able to take your skull, and say more complimentary things than Hamlet
said about Yorick's."
Then he suddenly grew serious, and began to pace up and down the room
with the letter in his hands. After a while he stopped in front of his
friend, who was still standing in the position of a whipped schoolboy,
and said:--
"And who is going to guarantee _me_ the general paying those thirty
thousand duros?"
"The general is a man of honor."
"Eguiburu, as you well know, will not be satisfied with such money; he
wants either gold or silver."
"Besides, the count has many wealthy friends; some of them, as you well
know, are compromised in this movement, and if the whole debt of the
paper were put upon any one of them it would be paid."
The matter was discussed for a long time between them; Miguel in his
ordinary jesting tone, Mendoza with his imperturbable gravity, and
showing no impatience, but holding firmly to his reasons.
Rivera was over-persuaded. He finally yielded, and consented to endorse
the paper. Over and above his friend's entreaties there was the interest
which he felt in the success of the journal, and the affection which he
felt for it; and these influenced him to take the step. On the other
hand, although he jested at the general's honor, he did not doubt it,
and was certain that he would not be "left on the bull's horns."
When, on the next day, he told Maximina what he had done, she said
nothing, and went on working at the edging which she had in her hands.
"What do you think about it? Did I make a mistake?"
Maximina lifted her sweet, smiling eyes.
"Do you ask me? I know nothing of business. Besides, for me, whatever
you do is always right."
Miguel kissed her, and was convinced--that he had committed a great
piece of folly.
A few days later, when Mendoza and Miguel were alone in the library, the
prescript told his friend a secret that filled him with astonishment.
"I have something to tell you, Miguel...."
"What is it?"
"I am going to be married."
"How glad I am! Let us know who the unfortunate being is who has had
such bad taste!"
"I am to marry Lucia Poblacion, General Bembo's widow."[22]
We ought to remark, if we have not already done so, that the gigantic
Don Pablo had died seven months before in Porto Rico.
Miguel was dumfounded, and could not forbear a gesture of disgust. This
man knew what sort of a woman _la generala_ Bembo was; he was perfectly
aware of the relations which he himself had maintained with her. And he
had the heart to make her his wife! For several minutes he remained
without having a word to say, a thing that had not often happened to him
in his life before; then he murmured:--
"Very good, very good, I congratulate you."
"As soon as her year of mourning is over, which will be within five
months, we shall be married. She is a very agreeable woman.... Now that
I have become intimately acquainted with her, I am persuaded that all
the gossip about her is pure fiction; the poor lady is the victim of a
few fools who, out of disappointed jealousy, have given her a bad name."
Miguel's eyes flashed angrily; he imagined that these words were
directed against him, and he had a ferocious sarcasm on the tip of his
tongue; but he succeeded in suppressing it, feeling that the situation
in which his friend was putting himself was some excuse for him.
"And if you did not think so you would do very wrong to marry her.... I
have heard it said that Lucia has a snug little fortune; is that so?" he
added, allowing it to be clearly seen what were, in his opinion, the
motives of such a marriage.