By the advice of all, it was determined that _la brigadiera_ and her
daughter should leave Madrid and go to live at the Astillero of
Santander. It was the only place, as they already had a house rented,
that offered them immediately a secret refuge where to hide their shame.
After they had taken their departure, Miguel remained more calm.
Nevertheless, a deep sadness had taken possession of his heart, which
neither his wife's love nor the infantile graces of his baby were
sufficient to dissipate. And the reason was that, beyond the grief
caused by his sister's disgrace, he lived tormented by the thought of
his impending ruin. He could not hide the fact that Eguiburu was
crouching like a tiger, ready to leap upon him and tear him to pieces.
He saw Mendoza very rarely; he noticed that he avoided meeting him, and
when this was unavoidable, their conversation was short and embarrassed
on both sides.
One day he went home at night-all, pale enough. Maximina, who, as
always, came to meet him, with the baby in her arms, did not notice it
because it was so dark. He kissed his child affectionately again and
again, and then went into his study. His wife stood at the door,
motionless, gazing sadly at him.
"A light," said he, in imperious tones.
Maximina ran to the dining-room, left the baby in Juana's hands, and she
herself brought the lighted candles. Miguel paid no attention to her,
and began to write. When after a few moments he lifted his head, he saw
her leaning against the mantel-piece, looking at him, her eyes brimming
with tears.
"Why are you here? What is the matter?"
The little wife slowly approached him, and laying one hand on his
shoulder, said, with a melancholy attempt at a smile:--
"Have I done anything wrong, Miguel?"
"Why so?"
"Always when you come in you give me a kiss, but to-day you don't pay
any attention at all to me!... You have kissed the baby more than...."
Miguel leaped to his feet and strained his wife to his heart.
"No, my Maximina; if I kissed the boy, it was solely because I came in
thinking about him and anxious about his fate."
Then, without being able to speak another word, he threw himself into a
chair and sobbed.
Maximina stood as though she had seen the house fall down before her
eyes. When the first instant of amazement was past, she ran to him and
kissed him.
"Miguel, Miguel, light of my life, what is the matter?"
"Misfortune hangs over us, Maximina," he replied, with his face in his
hands. "I have stupidly ruined you--you and my son!"
"Don't cry, Miguel, don't cry!" exclaimed the little wife, pressing her
lips to her husband's face. "I had nothing; how could you ruin me?"
When he had grown a little calmer he explained to her what had taken
place. Eguiburu had summoned him for the following day, to recognize his
endorsements; and he expected him immediately to enforce his legal
claim.
"Do you remember that day when, after I had guaranteed the thirty
thousand duros for the paper, so that it might go on, I asked your
opinion? You did not dare to tell me that I had not done well, and you
gave me an evasive answer. How wise you were!"
"No, Miguel, no; you are mistaken," she answered, trying to spare her
husband the mortification of having acted with less sense than a woman.
"What did I know about such things? If you did wrong, I should have done
much worse.... But, after all, what has happened is not worth your being
so troubled. We haven't any money left: well, and what of that? We will
work for our living, as so many others do. I am used to it; I am not a
senorita; I can live very economically, and not suffer any. You shall
see how little I will spend! And our darling, when he gets old enough,
will work too, and become a useful man--see if that isn't so! Perhaps if
he knew that he would not be obliged to work, he would be dissipated,
like so many other rich young men. And above all, he, and I too, will
care for nothing else than to have his papa happy, with or without
money."
Oh, how sweet sounded those words in the troubled Miguel's ears!
"You are my good angel, Maximina!" he exclaimed, kissing her hands. "I
don't know what magic your words have to sweeten my sorrows
instantaneously, to soothe me and calm me as though I had taken an
aromatic bath.... Where did you learn this lovely eloquence, my life,"
he added, seating her on his knee. "You need not tell me! It all comes
from here!"
And he kissed her just above her heart.
The husband and wife conversed a long time, calm, cheerful, drinking in
with mouth and eyes the divine nectar of conjugal love. Extraordinary
thing! In spite of being on the eve of a great calamity, Miguel could
not remember having spent a happier hour in his life. And though the
events that took place within a few days sobered him, yet, thanks to
this cheering balsam, they could not wholly dishearten him.
Eguiburu at last sprang down upon his prey. The legal claim was
sustained. Miguel's two houses in the Calle del Arenal and on the Cuesta
de Santa Domingo were sold by auction for forty-eight thousand duros. If
the sale had not been forced, there is no doubt that he would have
received much more for them. Purchasers naturally took advantage of the
occasion.
The total amount of our hero's debt, with interest and expenses, reached
fifty thousand duros. Consequently there remained a trifle to make up.
Miguel sold a part of his furniture and some of his jewels so as to
clear himself entirely. This having been done, he sought for a cheap
tenement at the extreme outskirts of Madrid. He found in the Chamberi a
rather pretty third-story apartment in a house recently built, at the
moderate rent of twelve duros a month. He immediately moved there, and
settled down with some degree of comfort with the rest of his furniture.
The house was small; but through Maximina's endeavors, it was soon
converted into a quite pleasant residence. The largest room was reserved
for Miguel, since, as they had no expectation of society calls, they had
no need of a parlor.
Of the servants they kept only Juana, who offered to act as cook. The
other girls, on learning that they were to be dismissed, began to weep
passionately; Placida above all was inconsolable.
"Senorita, for Heaven's sake, take me with you! With you I would go
anywhere and eat potatoes, and not ask any pay."
Maximina was touched, and consoled her by saying that they were not
going to leave Madrid, and that they could easily see each other.
The marvellous baby, whose rapid progress of late had reached the truly
incredible point of raising his hands to heaven whenever he heard her
sing the song--
_Santa Maria, que mala esta mi tia!_
was the object of many tender embraces on the part of the domestics, who
between them squeezed him almost to death.
When they were fairly settled, Miguel naturally set himself about
finding some occupation, so as to earn enough for living, though in a
very modest manner. Politics were detestable to him; the same was true
of journalism, although it was the only profession to which he was
accustomed. He knew that there were going to be a few competitive
offices vacant in the Council of State, and he made up his mind that he
would try for one of them. In his love for his wife and baby, and in his
sense of duty which had never entirely abandoned him, and which, amid
his misfortunes, now arose in full strength in his mind, he found the
stimulus and power not only to devote himself zealously to studies that
were distasteful to him, but also to conquer his pride.
A young man who had shone in Madrid society, who had been the
editor-in-chief of a newspaper and within a hair's breath of being
deputy, could not help feeling some mortification in passing through a
public examination for a place worth only twelve or fourteen thousand
reals. He devoted himself ardently to the study of administrative law
with such zeal that he hardly went out of the house, except a little
while in the evening to rest his brain.
The very little money that they had left he spent with exceeding care so
that it might hold out until the time of the competition, which was to
be held after the summer, toward October or November.
Maximina in this respect was a model. Not only did she spend nothing on
her person, for she had clothes enough, but also in the household
expenses she performed prodigies of skill to reduce them to the smallest
terms. Miguel was grieved, and almost shed tears secretly when he saw
her making soap herself because it would be a few centimos cheaper than
at the shop, and many times taking charge of the kitchen while Juana was
gone to a distant store where potatoes were a real cheaper, and ironing
the nicer linen herself, etc.
But she seemed happy; perhaps happier than when they were in the midst
of opulence. The luxuriance of their apartment on the Plaza de Santa Ana
had a certain depressing influence upon her. As she never dusted or
arranged the furniture herself, they seemed to her hardly to be hers.
Now everything was the opposite; she had put them in their places after
serious perplexities; she dusted them every day, she swept and brushed
the carpet, she polished with stag-horn powder all the metal
arrangements, she kept the window in her husband's room carefully
washed; in fact, she took entire charge of all the details of the
household.
It was for Miguel a pleasure not free from melancholy to see her
mornings, with a silk handkerchief wrapped around her head in the
Biscaian manner and in a woollen apron, gracefully waving the feather
duster and lightly humming some sentimental _zorcico_ of her country.
But Maximina understood to the last detail the economy that referred to
herself. This from time to time caused Miguel deep pain. Without his
knowing it she had given up her chocolate in the afternoon. When he
discovered it he became furious.
"Who would ever have thought of it! The idea of cutting down your food
when you are nursing a baby! It is senseless and almost a sin! I forbid
you to do such a thing! do you hear me? Rather than let you deny
yourself what you needed to eat, I would go and break stones in the
street, or beg! You know that I would!"
"Don't scold me, Miguel, for Heaven's sake! It was because I did not
care for chocolate these days."
"Then you ought to have taken something else."
"I did not want anything."
"Come, come, Maximina, quit such foolishness.... And don't let it happen
again."
Though the little wife tried to keep her feet hidden in his presence, he
found another time that her shoes were worn through.
"What does this mean?" he demanded. "Why don't you buy another pair of
shoes?"
"I will some time."
"You must buy them this very day. Yours are badly worn."
"All right. I will send for them to-day." And she managed to attract his
attention to something else.
After five or six days had passed, he found that she was wearing the
same ones.
"What a girl you are!" he exclaimed, in vexation.
"Don't scold me, Miguel! don't scold me!" the little wife hastened to
say, throwing her arms around him, and smiling in mortification. A harsh
word from Miguel was for her the severest of misfortunes.
"How can I help scolding you if you do not obey me?"
"Forgive me!"
"I am going to take your measure, and this very day bring you a pair of
shoes."
"Oh no!" she said hurriedly. "Don't trouble yourself; I will send right
out for some."
The reason for this was that she was afraid that her husband might buy
more expensive ones than she wanted.
Miguel, on his side, likewise practised some personal economies, though
he did not go to such lengths. But Maximina could not endure this. When
she saw him put on a _hongo_ and a silk handkerchief around his neck, so
as to save his silk hat and the good clothes that he had, she grew
vexed.
"How you _do_ look; I don't like you so, Miguel!"
"It's because I don't care to dress up. I am only going on an errand,
and shall be right back."
If at the end of any given time she found the same money in his vest,
she would say sadly:--
"You don't spend anything, Miguel. Don't you lunch at the cafe? Why
don't you go to the theatre?"
"Because I am very busy now. I will go as soon as the examinations are
over. Besides, we must be a little economical for the present."
"How bad it makes me feel not to have you spend as you used to do!" she
exclaimed, giving him a hug. "You are making this sacrifice for my sake!
If you were alone, you would live much better."
"Come, come, don't be absurd, Maximina. Without you I should live
neither well nor ill.... I should die," he replied, laughing.
Although excited by the prospect of the examinations, and working for
them perhaps harder than he ought, our hero was not unhappy. When there
is peace and love by the fireside, family life is the best sedative for
mental sufferings. This on one side, and on the other the confidence
which he had in his forces made living, up to a certain point,
delightful.
There came a day, however, in which happiness and relative calmness
disappeared at the announcement that the examinations for which he was
working were indefinitely postponed, possibly till the next year.
All his plans fell to the ground. As he had not for some time thought of
any other way of escape from his difficulties, he felt annihilated. He
had strength enough, nevertheless, to hide it from his wife, and to
appear at home serene and happy as usual. Redoubled by the surprise, the
energies of his soul were awakened to new vigor.
"It is necessary, at all events, to seek for work," he said to himself.
He had money enough to last only for a month. Still he allowed his wife
to spend as before, certain that she could not economize more than she
did at the time without undergoing serious privations. The first thought
that occurred to him was to seek for employment with some private firm.
He called on a number of friends, and all cheered him with good words.
Nevertheless a month passed, and no employment appeared. He found
himself obliged to pawn his watch in order to pay his landlord and store
account; he told his wife that he had left it to be regulated.
A second month passed, and still nothing turned up. One day Maximina,
dead with mortification, said to him, as though she were confessing some
crime:--
"Miguel, the shopkeeper down street has sent me his bill, and as I have
not a cuarto, I can't pay it."
The brigadier's son trembled; but hiding it as well as he could, he
replied, with affected indifference:--
"Very well; I will see that it is paid when I go out. How much is it?"
"Two hundred and twenty-four reals."
"Do you need any more money?"
Maximina dropped her eyes and blushed.
"I owe Juana her wages."
"I will bring it this afternoon."
He said these words without knowing what he said. Where was he to get
it? His Uncle Bernardo had been sent some months before to a private
mad-house in Paris. Dona Martina and her family had also gone there to
look after him. Enrique was not in the condition to lend it to him. His
step-mother was out of town, and she had barely enough to live decently;
moreover, it caused him an invincible repugnance to ask back what he had
once given. No one of the family was left of whom he could ask it,
except his Uncle Manolo.
To him he went.
Uncle Manolo, a grave man and of excellent charity, although he knew
about his nephew's ruin, had not realized that it was so complete. He
stood with his mouth open at hearing his request. He took out of his
drawer the forty duros which he had requested and handed them to him.
Miguel, through certain words that escaped him, perceived that he was
undergoing a greater sacrifice than any one could have imagined. He
suspected, or rather he felt, almost certain, that his uncle was
subjected to a shameful servitude. _La intendenta_ apparently had no
thought of abandoning the care of her property, and she allowed him each
month a certain sum of money for his private wants, which were, as
always, large and perfectly indispensable.
Accordingly, Miguel went away greatly disturbed at the interview, and
convinced that to borrow money of Uncle Manolo in such circumstances was
equivalent to giving him a very great annoyance.
After this episode, convinced that he had no right to expect aid from
his relatives, he put forth double zeal in his search for work of any
kind. But all his attempts met with the bad luck which pitilessly
followed him. In some places there was no vacancy; in others, finding
that he was a senorito, and had never been in any counting-house, they
distrusted him.
At the editorial offices he was most kindly received; but, as at that
time, and even now, the pecuniary affairs of the press were rather
upset, willing as the directors would have been, they did not find it
easy to give him a position. The most that any of them promised was to
give him a place as soon as there was a vacancy. But what he needed now,
at this very moment, was some money to buy food, and the days were
passing, and it did not come. Without Maximina knowing about it, he
pawned a set of gold studs and a ring which had belonged to his father.
Finally the owner of an afternoon paper gave his absolute promise that
he should have forty duros a month, as soon as a month was past: during
the actual month, on account of certain difficulties in the business
office, he could not pay it down. Our hero worked a whole month for
nothing. At the beginning of the next, as it was absolutely necessary
for him to pay certain sums, Miguel asked him to let him have some
money.
Then the owner and manager, adopting that air half complaining and half
diplomatic, which all assume who are about to refuse a just but
unwelcome claim, painted in the darkest colors the business situation of
the daily, the difficulty of collecting certain sums that were due him,
the necessity which all editors have of "putting their shoulders to the
wheel in order to sustain a young enterprise," etc., etc.
"Friend Huerta," replied Miguel, very much dissatisfied, "hunger has
made me altogether too weak to be able to put my shoulder to any new
enterprise; on the contrary, _I_ need to be propped up myself so as not
to fall."
It was impossible to get a penny from him. Our hero took his leave, full
of indignation, the more because he happened to know that all the money
taken in went straight into the director's private box, and that he used
it to lead the life of a prince.
Now began for the young pair a gloomy and trying time. Miguel was unable
any longer to hide his necessities. One by one the few objects of value
which they had in the house went to the pawn-shop, where they brought
scarcely the fifth part of their value. Oftentimes the young man
despaired and cursed his lot, and even spoke of going and firing a shot
at the Count de Rios and another at Mendoza.
Maximina, in these painful crises, consoled him, cheered him with new
hope, and when this resource failed, she succeeded in softening him
with her tears and driving away from him all his evil thoughts. Always
serene and cheerful, she made heroic attempts to divert him, calling to
her aid the little one, when worst came to worst; she carefully
concealed the toil which in his absence she undertook so as not to let
him see that there was anything at fault when he came.
Poverty, nevertheless, was pressing closer and closer around them each
day. At last the day came that actually they had not a peseta in the
house and knew not where to get another. At the grocery store they were
not willing to let them have goods on credit.
Miguel, without his wife's knowledge, took one of his coats, wrapped it
up in paper and carried it to a pawn-shop: they would give only two
duros for it. On his return, as he was meditating how to escape from
this miserable situation, and seeing no way of finding work, he suddenly
adopted a violent resolution: namely, that of undertaking manual labor.
With his face darkened by an expression of pain he said to himself as he
walked along:--
"Rather than my wife starve to death I am ready to do anything....
Anything! even to commit robbery. I am going to try the last resort."
Near his house was a printing-office where on days of depression, when
he had just received some rebuff, he often spent long hours watching the
compositors at their work or trying himself to spell out some easy task.
The proprietor was an excellent man, and very cordial relations had
sprung up between them. He went in there and calling him aside, he
said:--
"Don Manuel, I find myself without means of getting food; in spite of
all my efforts during these last months I have not been able to obtain a
situation. Would you be willing to take me as an apprentice in your
office, giving me a little something on account of future work?"
The printer looked at him with an expression of sadness.
"Are you so bad off as all that, Don Miguel?"
"In the last depths of poverty."