The Marquis Of Penalta Part 22

The sea once more tried to dispose itself for slumber; the crests of its waves no longer gleamed white from afar with their crown of foam; the horizon withdrew its indefinite line, which faded away in the twilight shadow. The smooth, swelling billows rose and fell like the indolent, tranquil breathing of a gigantic bosom. One by one, with lovely ease and confidence, the faluas, leaving them behind, swept onward to the port.

The coast with its dark, undulating line girdled the luminous plain. Far in the distance inland, the peaks of the mountains could be seen bathed in a transparent violet haze.

Marta's thought broke through the glutted cloud which girt it in with a sea of confusions and vaguenesses, and in her soul arose all at once a host of sweet and ineffable recollections like so many luminous points with which the serene sky of her life was sown. She amused herself a long time in recounting them, taking new delight in each. How bright and beautiful they burned in her memory! What a gentle light they cast over the monotonous, laborious days of her existence! They were surrounded by silence and mystery; no one had enjoyed them, no one had known them except herself; the very hand which had dropped into her heart the balm of joy was absolutely ignorant of its beneficent influence. This thought filled her with a secret delight which brought a smile to her pale lips.

One by one, however, and without her knowing why, those luminous points vanished away, were blotted out and lost in the deep, black abyss of an idea. Her imagination began to fly about like a bewildered bird within this sad and desperate idea where not the slightest ray of light could penetrate. Why was she in the world? The happiness which she had discovered was another's, and there was nothing else left to do but to look upon it without grief and without envy, for envy in this case would be a terrible sin. And was she sure of not falling into it at any moment, or what was worse, was she sure of not raising her hand against that happiness? The hidden beach on the island came instantly into her memory, with its golden sands and its foaming waves flinging their foam flakes upon her. A great remorse, a keen, cruel remorse, began to make its way into her innocent heart like the sharp point of a dagger, causing her such anguish that she uttered a m.u.f.fled groan heard only by herself. Confusion and dizziness tormented her brain; her head burned like a volcano. She raised her hand to her brow, and it was as cold as though made of marble. This gave her an extraordinary shock of surprise.

So much heat within and so cold without!

The ocean at that moment seemed full of peace and gentleness. The sun was just about submerging his heated face in the crystal of the waters, but still lighted up a few places in the vast plain with a fantastic, gilded light, leaving others in the shade. The murmurs were heavier and deeper, of an infinite melancholy; that measureless ma.s.s of water was slowly losing its azure hue and changing to another, of very opaque green, sown here and there with fleeting reflections. The melancholy ease with which the sea took leave of the light made a deep impression upon Marta. With her head leaned over the water, and with dreamy eyes, she watched the most delicate tints which the light was awakening in it, and listened to the murmurs which resounded in the depths.

The sun was entirely sunken. The ocean gave one immense, colossal sob.

In this sob was so much compa.s.sion that Marta thought she felt the ambient air vibrate with a movement of sympathy and wonder. Never had she seen the sea so grand and so sublime, so strong and so generous at once. That august silence, that momentary repose of the great athlete, moved her to the depths of her soul, filled her turbulent spirit with an ardent desire for peace. Who had told her that the sea was terrible?

What small heart had spoken to her of his cruel treacheries? Ah, no! The sea was n.o.ble and generous, as the strong always are, and his wrath, though fearful, was quickly over: in his tranquil depths live happily pearls and corals, the white sea-nymphs, the purple fishes.

The falua, when it pressed up against his humid shoulder, made between bow and stern a broad, comfortable couch, with foamy edges, a couch where one might sleep eternally with face turned toward the sky, watching through the transparent bosom of the water the flas.h.i.+ng of the stars.

"Heavens!... What was that?"

"Who has fallen overboard?"

"Daughter of my heart!... Marta!... Marta! Let go of me!... Let me save my daughter!"

"She is already safe, Don Mariano; there is no need of you wetting yourself."

"Back water! Back water! Steady!..." said the captain's rough voice.

"Fling that line, Manuel.... Don't be alarmed, ladies; it is nothing at all.... Back water! Weigh all.... Lay hold, all of you, on that line.

There is nothing to worry about."

At first the confusion was great. Ricardo and one of the sailors had leaped into the water and were swimming powerfully to make up the short distance which the falua had gone before the alarm was given. Ricardo, who was ahead, dived, and in a few seconds re-appeared with the girl on his arm. The falua was near them, and he could clutch the rope which they had flung him, and then the gunwale of the yawl, finding himself suspended by a number of arms which lifted them on deck. Don Mariano, in the short moments that this lasted, struggled with Don Maximo and others, trying to leap into the water. When he saw his daughter on board, it took him but a moment to press her to his heart.

Mart.i.ta had fainted away. Various ladies hastened to loosen her clothing and shake her violently to rid her of the water which she had swallowed.

Then they laid her down on one of the seats on the deck, and Ricardo, taking a bottle of salts which Don Maximo had brought with him, applied it to her nostrils. She soon opened her eyes and, on seeing the young man's solicitous face leaning over her, she smiled sweetly, and said to him, so that no one else could hear:--"Thanks, senor marques!... It is not so bad down below there."

When they reached El Moral, they dried themselves at the house of some friends who were taking baths there, and they donned the first clothes that came to hand. Then they once more took up their homeward way, and reached the quay at one o'clock, finding each of their respective families were beginning to feel anxious over their late arrival.

CHAPTER XI.

A STRANGE CIRc.u.mSTANCE.

Don Mariano's guests were amusing themselves with the game of forfeits.

The evening was thoroughly disagreeable, and only the most courageous had ventured out. When this happened (and it was not very infrequent) music and dancing were forbidden and games of cards, of commerce[51], or of forfeits were subst.i.tuted, or at times merely a pleasant, bright conversation. On the evening of which we are speaking, the feminine s.e.x was represented by three Misses de Ciudad, two Delgados, the Senorita de Mori, and one more who, together with those of the family made a sufficiently respectable nucleus; in the masculine part figured the family physician, Senor de Ciudad, Don Serapio, the engineer Suarez, and four or five other young fellows who, being simple and insignificant, deserve no special mention. The tertulia occupied only one corner of the parlor, although on occasions when the game required, it was scattered about over the whole of it. Don Mariano, surrounded by the _solemn fathers_, walked up and down, and enjoyed his discussions, frequently stopping to lay down some intricate logic, and then continuing his walk with hands behind his back.

It fell to Don Serapio's lot to say _yes_ and _no_ three times each, and consequently he retired to one of the corners, gazing at the wall. The ladies and gentlemen once more gathered together in one group, and began to whisper with the greatest animation, each one proposing some question. At last they agreed to ask him if he enjoyed _bisogne_.

"Eeeeeh?" shouted the chorus, dwelling on the vowel.

"Yes," replied the unhappy Don Serapio.

The reply was received with tumult and delight, making the proprietor of the canning factory tremble in his shoes. Next they agreed upon asking him if he had any intention of getting married. "No" was his unhesitating reply. "Bravo, bravo!" shouted the men.

"What a stony-hearted man!" cried the women.

One of the young fellows proposed that they should ask him if he still had a fondness for chamber-maids. The ladies wanted to oppose this, but there was no remedy.

"Eeeeeh?"

"Yes."

Great laughter and applause in the group. The same malevolent young fellow proposed something even worse: "to ask him if he intended to give any of his children a profession." The ladies seriously objected to this question, and another was given in its place. And thus they continued until he had said the three _yeses_ and the three noes required by the game, and then, greatly despondent, he came to find out what the questions had been.

It came next to Amparito Ciudad to give a favor to all the gentlemen of the party, and she began to perform the duty with the greatest discretion and grace, beginning with the young fellows, except the engineer Suarez, who roundly declared that he was not satisfied with any of her propositions, and whispered to her very softly what the only thing was that would satisfy him. Amparito blushed a little, and replied with a gentle look of reproach, at the same time casting a glance at her father, who fortunately had his back turned while promenading with Don Mariano.

Isidorito's turn came next, and it unfortunately fell to him to be put "in Berlina"; and what a chance this was for the Senorita de Mori!

Isidorito, though not attractive at all, inspired general respect on account of his reputation as a studious, sensible young man: thus the majority of the girls and boys contented themselves with criticising him[52] as "too serious," as "having too little hair," as "dancing very badly," as "studying to excess," as "wearing too long coat tails," etc., etc.; but when it came to the Senorita de Mori, who was impatiently waiting her turn, she put him _in Berlin_ with unconcealed satisfaction as "very heavy in brain and light in stomach." Isidorito, noticing the reasons for their criticisms, recognized with grief the source of that envenomed dart; but he did not care to show that he did, and preferred to preserve in this respect a n.o.ble, and at the same time, a prudent silence.

The eldest daughter of the family, as usual, took no share in the game.

She was sitting by her mother's side, totally oblivious of all that was going on around her, with her eyes fixed on vacancy. A strange, intense pallor covered her somewhat emaciated but always lovely face, and her whole body showed signs of uneasiness and anxiety. She scarcely answered the questions which Dona Gertrudis asked her from time to time, and if she did, it was with such curtness that it took away all the worthy lady's desire to repeat them. Four or five times already she had got up from her chair and gone to the balcony, remaining a long time in it with her forehead leaning on the gla.s.s, without any one knowing what she was looking at. The plaza of Nieva, just as on the first night when we saw it, was dark and checkered with pools of water, wherein were reflected the melancholy beams from the kerosene lamps burning in the corners. Not a soul was crossing it that night. She strained her eyes in vain to penetrate the darkness under the arcades: the neighbors had all withdrawn into their houses, perfectly convinced that dampness is the cause of many infirmities. The windows of the Cafe de la Estrella were the only ones that were lighted. The air was filled with a gentle murmur of rain which barely made itself audible through the panes to the young girl's ears.

It came Rosarito's turn to act the sultana. The dandified young fellow with the hair over his forehead, placed a chair in the middle of the room and seated her in it: then he spread before her a velvet cus.h.i.+on.

The young men of the tertulia, like genuine Moors, began to march before her, bending their knees in her presence and waiting humbly for her choice. Rosarito, with the notable ability which all women have for playing queen, rejected them one after the other with a gesture of sovereign disdain. Only when the young fellow of the mazurkas came by, and tremblingly bent low at her feet, the beautiful but ferocious sultana deigned to hand him the handkerchief which she held in her hand and to select him as her lover, as a just reward for his most distinguished neckties and his no less exceptional _chaquets_! Then the two marched in a triumphal procession to the harem; or, what amounts to the same thing, they walked twice around the parlor, and sat down on the sofa where they had been before.

The little tertulia, after exhausting the not very varied resources of the game of forfeits, remained inactive and comfortable in the corner of the parlor, engaging in a low but very lively conversation, broken by bursts of laughter and exclamations, as the brilliant young men of the party found occasion to amuse them at the expense of some unfortunate, whom they flayed pitilessly. Those who had not this talent contented themselves with smiling and stupidly applauding the others' repartees, and occasionally trying to put their fingers in the pie with little success. They made interminable jokes on the girls about their suitors, and the girls defended themselves as usual with the cla.s.sic replies: "I don't know why you should say so." "You have been very ill-informed."

"He comes to see me as a friend and nothing more," etc., etc. The mischievous smiles and the expression of something hidden accompanying these replies, told very clearly that the girls did not object to be chaffed in that way.

Dona Gertrudis had gone to sleep. Don Mariano and his proselytes were still promenading from one end of the parlor to the other, involved in deep disquisitions on the probable fall of real estate. Maria was again standing with her forehead leaning against the panes, apparently absorbed in one of her long and frequent meditations to which her household were accustomed, but in reality exploring with anxious eyes the shadows which enwrapped the plaza of Nieva. She paid little heed to the frivolous conversation kept up by the guests. She soon heard a strange noise in the distance and trembled. She abstracted herself as much as possible from the confusion in the room, and lent a deep and uneasy attention to that distant rumble which gradually grew louder and louder in the silence of the night, each moment becoming clearer and more definite. It was not a confused, fantastic noise, like those caused by the wind or the sea, but solid and well-defined, perfectly clear in Maria's ears. Soon it grew into the measured and characteristic sound of a mult.i.tude marching in step. The young woman's astonished eyes could distinguish by the street lamps the points of bayonets and the varnished caps of the soldiery. All the guests on hearing the noise, hurried to the balconies, and saw with surprise two companies marching by the house, crossing the plaza, and disappearing from sight in the cross-streets of the town.

Don Mariano's friends looked at each other in amazement.

"What are those soldiers going to do at this time o' day?" asked one lady.

"I don't understand where they are going," replied Don Mariano. "To get to the interior of the province, even though they came from the West, there is no need of their going through here; they have the valley of Canedo, and that is a much shorter road."

"This very day I was calling on the captain," said Don Maximo, "and he did not say a single word to me of the coming of these companies."

"I didn't know it, either," said the Senor de Ciudad. "The most likely thing is that they are on the march, and are only going to spend the night here, and start off again in the morning."

"It's a strange thing," added Don Mariano, "but of course it may be--it may be."

The young people returned to their places, and quickly forgot the incident, as they gayly took up the broken thread of conversation. Their elders continued their promenade, making interminable comments and endless hypotheses about the unexpected visitation. Maria still stayed obstinately at the window, s.h.i.+elded from the eyes of her friends by the great damask curtains.

A very heated discussion about music had been set on foot in the group of _young_ people, among whom figured the sensitive Senorita de Delgado, in spite of the vehemently expressed protests of Rosarito, who declared on her word that the said senorita had often held her in her arms, and that, when she as a child was going to confession, and the Senorita de Delgado was at her house, she had kissed her hand, as an _elderly person_.[53] One of the most elegant of young men, who had been educated in Madrid for five different professions in succession, upheld the superiority of the German composers, declaring that there were no operas like _Roberto_, _Les Huguenots_, and _Le Prophete_, and that no symphonies could be compared with those of Beethoven and Mozart. The ladies, powerfully supported by the rest of the men, stood up for the advantages of Italian music.

"Don't nauseate us with your Germans, Severino! What kind of music do they make! It sounds to me like a pack of dogs barking."

"That is only at first; if you should continue to hear it, you would acquire the taste for it; the same thing happens with olives and ale."