"I don't know, I'm sure.... I met Lucia at Borell's, and from the very
first I was delighted with her. She is so refined and so full of noble
sentiments. The poor woman was obliged to marry a man old enough to be
her father; it would not have been strange if she had gone astray;
nevertheless, she succeeded in preserving her...."
"Don Pablo must have had a pretty good thing in America, besides a high
rent for his house," said Miguel, not heeding Mendoza's boasts.
"La Senora de Borell can say that it was she who made this match. You
can't imagine how much she loves Lucia, and what a high opinion she has
of her."
"It is said that Don Pablo's fortune has been greatly diminished in
these last few years; but as more came in from America than was spent in
Spain there ought to be a good income, and half of it belongs to Lucia
in her own right. On the other hand, her children are young, and the
income of the whole estate must suffice for them for many years."
Miguel kept insisting on this point, as he saw that it annoyed his
friend, and he wanted to retaliate on him for what he had said just
before. He showed so much annoyance at this ill-assorted marriage, when
in the evening he told Maximina about it, that she could not refrain
from saying:--
"Why are you so put out about it? Even though Perico marries for money
he is not the first one who ever did such a thing. The only thing that
surprises me is, that this lady consents to marry seven months after her
husband's death."
As Miguel could not well tell his wife the reasons why he was indignant,
since he was trying to keep from her the knowledge of certain social
evils, and on the other hand he was afraid that the jealousy which she
had once shown at Pasajes might be renewed, he suddenly calmed down and
turned it into a laugh.
Still he could not divest himself of the feeling of disgust which the
news had caused. Hitherto he had forgiven all his friend's outbreaks of
egotism, but what he was now going to do was too low for him to overlook
it. And thus it was that he could not help feeling a secret relief when,
owing to a certain event that followed, Mendoza decided to leave his
house.
He was talking one day with one of the maids, and his solemnly
benevolent face made it evident that he was not at all insensible to the
girl's black and roguish eyes; and she, on her part, was not less
attracted by the guest's healthy physique and fresh, ruddy face. While
she was arranging his room and constantly turning round to reply to his
remarks, he was sitting in an easy-chair with his feet stretched out and
with a newspaper in his hand.
"How glad I should be, senorito, to have you gentlemen succeed!" said
the girl, after a long interval of silence.
"Succeed in what, Placida?"
"In getting control of the government ... go along!... and rule."
"I don't concern myself with such things," rejoined Mendoza, becoming
suddenly serious.
"Come, come, senorito," said the maid, "don't you suppose that we know
all about it? Then why don't you ever go out-doors? You are afraid of
the peelers[23]!... The devil take 'em!... Ever since one wanted to
carry me off to the lockup for shaking a carpet, I can't bear to see
them even in a picture."
"Who told you that I didn't go out of doors for fear of the peelers?"
demanded Mendoza, growing pale.
"Why, the shopkeeper down stairs. He told Juana and I that we had a very
important gentleman hiding in our house, but that it would not be much
longer 'cause everything was all ready for the revolution.... Don't let
it worry you, senorito," she added, noticing how pale Mendoza had
become, "the shopkeeper won't say nothing 'cause he's more liberal than
Riego.... He wouldn't, he wouldn't, for mighty little good it would do
him to have a war!"
Mendoza, by this time quite livid, leaped from his chair, and without
replying, left the room, reeling, and hastened to Miguel's study.
"What's the matter?" asked Rivera, seeing his friend's excitement.
"Nothing," replied Mendoza, in a feeble voice, dropping into an
easy-chair, and covering his face with his hands,--"only my head is not
safe on my shoulders!"
"That's what I have always told you; it is quite too big!"
"Let up on your jokes, Miguel! The thing is very serious. It is already
known that I am hiding here in this house, and when it is least expected
they will come and take me."
"Who told you all that?"
"Placida.... The shopkeeper down stairs knows all about it. Just
imagine, who won't know it by this time!... I cannot stay here another
day; I must find another retreat. The best way would be to leave
Madrid."
Under other circumstances Miguel would have dissuaded him from this
resolve, because he was perfectly convinced that his friend was in no
danger in one place any more than in another; but for the reasons above
suggested he took pains not to hinder him.
After a little discussion it was decided that Mendoza should make his
escape that very afternoon, because they were more watchful at night,
and might get wind of him. His idea was to-go to Las Ventas del Espiritu
Santo disguised as a water-carrier, and from there, if there were
danger, he would leave Madrid by the Northern Railway: Miguel agreed to
get him a pass.
In fact, the water-carrier for the house sold him his suit, which was
certainly not remarkably new or cleanly.
After spending an hour in making up his disguise, touching his cheeks
with vermilion, dishevelling his hair, soiling his hands, etc., our
revolutionist went to the library, with his cask on his shoulder, and
stood before the looking-glass.
"I recognize myself!" he exclaimed, with such a look of anxiety that
Miguel and Maximina laughed till their sides ached.