It happened that one clear, cool February evening, as they were walking
along the street, Maximina said to her husband:--
"I feel very tired. Don't you want to go home?"
"Is it only weariness," he asked, looking at her with interest. "Don't
you feel ill?"
"A little," she said, leaning somewhat heavier on his arm.
"I will call a carriage."
"No, no! I am perfectly able to walk."
In spite of her willingness, however, Maximina found walking each moment
more difficult; her husband perceiving it, quickly stopped, and
considered for a moment; then taking her hand, said:--
"I am sure that I know what the trouble is; I am going to call a
carriage."
The young wife hung her head as though detected in some crime. They
stopped the first Simon that passed without a fare, and rode home. As
soon as they were in doors, Miguel put on the bearing of a general on
the eve of battle; he began to give curt and peremptory orders to the
maids. In a short time nothing was heard but hurried steps and
whisperings; women appeared bringing bed linen, dishes, bottles, and
other articles. There was a call at the door; it proved to be the
janitor and his wife, and they with the servants held a long and anxious
council, everybody speaking in a whisper.
Miguel presided silently and solemnly over the making of the great
nuptial couch, while Maximina, seated in one of the easy-chairs in the
library, watched them, her face pale and anxious.
"How much trouble you take for my sake, Miguel!"
"For your sake?" exclaimed he, half surprised and half disturbed. "I
certainly should be a fine fellow not to put myself to some trouble for
my wife on such an occasion."
The poor child repaid him with a loving smile.
The bed was very quickly made. Juana looked at it enthusiastically.
"Senorito, it is like an altar! Would the queen's be finer?"
"There is no queen any longer, woman. Do me the favor not to stand there
like a post. Take the alcohol stove and put it on the dressing-table....
Quick! quick! And the other girls--what are they doing in the kitchen?"
"Both of them have gone on errands."
"What! haven't they got back yet?"
"But, senorito, they have only just gone out!"
"Come now, stop talking, and go after the stove."
Juana left the room, utterly dumfounded; the senorito had suddenly
changed his character; he acted like a madman! He walked up and down
through the house, with long strides; he gave more orders now in a
moment than in a month before, and was vexed at everything that was
said to him. From time to time he would go to his wife, and ask her
anxiously:--
"How are you feeling now?"
More than a hundred times he had been to the door and listened; but no
one came. In desperation he again began his agitated walk. At last he
thought that he heard steps on the stairs.... Could it be!... Nothing;
it was only the janitor carrying up a telegram to the third story. The
mischief take it! Another spell of waiting! "How wretched! Where can
that miserable Placida have gone? Surely she must be gallivanting with
that young sergeant of engineers. How little humanity these servants
have! As soon as the crisis is over, I will give her a walking ticket! I
would much better have sent Juana, who, at least, hasn't any lover....
"Do you feel worse, Maximina? A little tea would not do you any harm....
I will go and make it myself.... Courage!"
"You need it more than I, poor fellow!" said the young wife, smiling.
As he crossed the passage-way, the door-bell rang.
"At last!"
Deceived again! It was the Countess de Losilla, who came to offer her
services "for everything." The young ladies did not come down for
reasons easy to imagine.
"But, Rivera, how pale you are!"
"Senora, there is no small reason for it," he replied peevishly.
"But why, my son?" she demanded. "If there is no complication, as we
have reason to hope, there is nothing more natural and harmless."
Miguel, in his turn, had to use strong efforts to repress his
indignation. "Natural for me to have a son! How stupid the aristocracy
are!" he said to himself.
Maximina received this visit gratefully, but with some feeling of
embarrassment. The countess began to take the direction of affairs, like
a consummate strategist, calmly and unhesitatingly giving every order.
From this moment Miguel remained entirely eclipsed; the maids paid
absolutely no heed to him, and he found himself obliged to wander like a
lost soul up and down the corridors. Once when he attacked Juana to bid
her take the _tila_ in a glass, and not in a cup, she told him to leave
her in peace, that he knew nothing about such things. And he had to put
up with it!
At last the midwife came. Miguel followed her, more dead than alive, to
the room, but the countess shut the door in his face. Then after a
little she opened it again, and by the smile on the face of all he saw
that all was going well.
"Senorito, it is all right," said the _comadre_.
"What! is there no need of calling the doctor?"
"Not in the least, thank God! I will answer for it."
He became calm, as though a divinity had spoken from the clouds. But in
the course of ten minutes he suddenly lost faith; that woman might be
deceiving him or deceiving herself; who could have any confidence in
such people? He cautiously approached the chamber, and said, putting his
head in at the door:--
"It seems to me that I had better call in the doctor.... For safety's
sake--nothing more," he added, timidly.
"As you please, senorito," replied the _comadre_, dryly, and with a
scornful gesture.
"Rivera, for Heaven's sake! Haven't you heard her say that she would be
responsible?" said the countess.
"Well, well, if she will be responsible," he replied, somewhat abashed.
And then he asked with affected coolness:--
"How soon?"
The women all laughed aloud. The midwife replied in a condescending
tone:--
"Senorito, don't worry. It will be when God wishes, and all will be
well!"
He began to wander again like a shade through the corridors, not a
little disgusted and anxious. The result was that every one found him
ridiculous on this occasion and even laughed in his very face, and yet
he could not persuade himself that it was right for him to intrust his
happiness and his very life in the hands of an ignorant woman. He would
have been more than glad to call a counsel of all the eminent physicians
of the court. "If there is the least complication, I will choke her to
death!" he said to himself, in a perfect fury. And with this consolatory
threat he felt relieved.
After a little while his step-mother arrived, and she also immediately
began to give orders. She was followed by the senora of the third floor,
the wife of an employe of the Tribunal de la Rota.[38] Behind her came a
maid bringing an enormous picture of San Ramon Nonnato, and this she
placed in Maximina's room, with two lighted candles at the side of it.
This lady likewise began to give directions as soon as she arrived. It
really seemed as if everybody had the right to issue orders except the
master of the house, toward whom all those ladies, and even the
maid-servants, took delight in showing a profound and no less
unjustified contempt.
"Why, however you look at it," he said to himself, with eminent truth,
thrusting his hands into his pockets, and looking gloomy and annoyed, "I
am the husband, and, besides, I am, or, at least, shall be, the ... the
... which is the same thing."
The poor fellow did not open his month unless to make some blunder,
worthy at least of a disdainful smile.
Once, catching sight of his wife standing up and leaning on Juana and
the _comadre_, it occurred to him to suggest that she would be better
off in bed. The representatives of the female sex, like one body,
fulminated such a terrible look at him that we cannot possibly explain
why it did not reduce him to ashes. _La brigadiera_, striving to contain
herself and soften her voice, said to him:--
"Miguel, you are disturbing us. I beg of you to leave us, and we will
send for you in good time."
He obeyed in spite of himself: as he left the room he saw such a sad and
loving look in his wife's eyes, that he was on the point of opening the
door again and saying:--
"Ladies, see here! I am the master, this is my wife, and you depart
whence you came!"
But he came to the conclusion that the dispute might annoy Maximina, and
he swallowed his chagrin.
Now, absolutely condemned to ostracism in the corridors, he walked up
and down in them for a long time, listening to all the noises in the
bedroom. He was anxious to hear his wife's voice, even though it were in
tones of anguish; but there was nothing: he could hear all the others,
but not hers.
"How is it going?" he asked of the countess, who was starting for the
kitchen.
"Very well, very well. Don't you be troubled."
An hour passed, and, worn out by his incessant walking up and down, he
went to the parlor and threw himself upon a sofa. He sat there for some
time, with his eyes wide open, trying to conquer the drowsiness that was
taking possession of him in spite of himself. But at last he yielded:
he stretched out his feet, settled his head comfortably, yawned
tremendously, and soon was sleeping like a log.
It was broad daylight when three or four women precipitately invaded the
parlor, shouting at the top of their voices:--
"Don Miguel!... Rivera!... Senorito!"
"What is the matter?" he cried, looking up in alarm.
"Nothing, except that you have a son! Come, come!"
And they pulled him with them to the chamber, where he saw his wife,
still seated in an easy-chair, her face pale, but beaming with celestial
happiness. At the same instant he saw Juana in one corner with a
_something_ in her hands that was squalling horribly! He could not bear
to look at _it_ for an instant, but turned his face to his wife and
kissed her tenderly.
When Miguel left the room, his heart was in his mouth.
When he found himself alone he began to weep like a child.
"Poor little wife!" he murmured. "She suffered without a complaint, and
there I was sleeping like a brute! I shall never forgive myself for such
selfishness as long as I live!... Still, it was the fault of those
women," he added, with a sudden wrath; "those meddlesome persons who
drove me out of the room."
His remorse quickly subsided, and gave way to a thousand pleasant
emotions of paternity. He wanted to go in a second time; but the women!
always those women!--they blocked his way, saying that the infant was
not yet washed and swaddled, or his wife put to bed.
When all this was accomplished, he went into her room; his wife was
lovelier than ever as she lay in bed, with a lace cap adorned with blue
ribbons on her head, and wearing a clean white night-dress. He sat down
at the head of the bed, and the two looked at each other in amazement;
under the pretext of feeling of her pulse, he pressed her hand long and
tenderly. _La brigadiera_ then presented him a bundle of clothes,
saying:--
"Here you have your son."
Miguel took the bundle and lifted it close to his eyes, and saw a little
round red face without a nose, its eyes shut, and its forehead
depressed, and from its comparatively enormous mouth issued sounds that
were farthest from melodious.
"How ugly it is!" he said aloud.
A cry of indignation escaped from every one of the women, even his wife.
"What an atrocious thing to say, Rivera!"--"How can you imagine such a
thing!"--"What makes you think that it is ugly, senorito?"--"It is
certainly one of the loveliest babies that I ever saw, Rivera."--"Do you
expect it at this time of its life to have perfect features?"
"Give it here, give it here!" said _la brigadiera_, snatching it from
his hands.
"That is the kind of flowers that you give the poor little creature!"
"I should like to know what kind of a thing you were two hours after you
were born, senorito," exclaimed Juana.