The Joy of Captain Ribot Part 16

I confess I felt disturbed. I understood that the depths of my soul were next to be sounded, and trembled, perceiving that this transcendent critic was disposed to exercise his scalpel on me.

"Tss! Sailors think little of that. Our life is incompatible with family pleasures."

"Sailors, when they arrive at a certain comfortable condition and have reached an independent position like you, have the right to retire peacefully and enjoy a comfortable life," he replied with the gravity and firmness which marked every utterance that came out of his mouth.

How did he know that I had reached an independent position? Solely by his marvellous intuition, for I had given n.o.body an account of the state of my affairs. I admired such tremendous penetration from the bottom of my heart, and was humbly disposed to find out how much more he knew about me.

Sabas meditated several minutes. And while he meditated, sucking his pipe, his cheeks sunk in a supernatural manner. The energy that he expended upon that tobacco smoke was such that I was persuaded he must be swallowing it.

At the same time the intensity of his reflections influenced in like manner the secretion of his salivary glands.

"Why should you not marry my cousin Isabelita?" he said to me suddenly, with that brusque and peremptory accent which characterizes men who rule their kind by their power of thought.

Isabelita was walking on with Matilde in front of us. I grew pale, fearing she might have heard these serious words, and frightened and confused, murmured some incoherent words.

"Yes," proceeded the critic, "my cousin is a very nice girl, very modest, and more, she admires you extremely."

"Admires me!" I exclaimed, amazed. "And for what does she admire me?" I asked candidly.

Sabas laughed noisily, coughed, and got rid of his nicotine.

"She will tell you that when you are alone with her, hand in hand."

"You do not understand me," I returned, nettled. "What I wish to say is that I do not see anything in myself to be admired by anybody. And as for Isabelita, I have always believed that she had dedicated all of her admiration to Castell."

"That is nothing special. A man with eight million pesetas is an admirable being. But the admiration, in this case, will not bring any practical result. All the world knows that Castell keeps the mother of his children, and no young lady of good family thinks of him. With you the case is different; it would be possible for it to be quickly carried to a satisfactory solution; and my opinion is that you ought to leave your steamboat and try at once for this elegant craft. Isabelita is sensible, modest, well-educated, diligent; she is accustomed to the strict economy of a house where they turn a dollar over a hundred times before parting with it; an only child, and heiress of all her father's money. And my Uncle Retamoso owns more than people imagine. Who ever can tell exactly how much money a Galician has? Probably while he lives you would not have a right of five centimes; but what does that matter to you? In the first years of marriage you can keep yourself well enough on your capital, and when necessities grow greater, and certain additional things become necessary, you can make a raise on your prospects as his son-in-law, enough to carry you over until a certain joyful event----"

Other wise reflections poured like busy and knowing bees from the mouth of that extraordinary man. In my life seemed gathered together all the loose ends of existence, all its aims fulfilled, and the quintessence of human relations extracted.

While my future was thus being discussed, although I found myself embarra.s.sed by the new perspective offered to my view, I had, none the less, enough largeness of mind to admire the logic of his discourse, his surprising wealth of figures, richness of diction, turns of expression, subtle and logical distinctions, and the perfect links of his chain of reasoning. The breathing world, I believe, held no secrets from this man, and the mechanism of his reasoning worked with the exactness of a chronometer.

When we reached the cottage and were seated to partake of the refreshment that had been prepared for us, Emilio, who was near me, asked me in an undertone:

"Then it is decided that you are going to leave us to-morrow?"

"There is no help for it. The boat is due any moment now."

"What a pity!" he exclaimed in a melancholy tone; and placing one hand affectionately on my shoulder he added: "Do you know, you rascal, that we are getting used to you!"

I was moved by his words, and more yet by the cloud of sadness that darkened his cheerful, sympathetic face. I kept silence. He did the same. Throwing himself back in his chair, he remained unlike himself, thoughtful and melancholy. At last he turned to me and said, almost in my ear:

"If you would take my advice you would give up your sea-faring life, which, say what you will, is a little risky, and marry and settle down.

Why be always alone? Do you never think of old age, and how sad it would be to pa.s.s the last years of your life in the power of self-seekers, without children to make bright your home, without a wife who of herself brings order and comfort?"

"But I am an old fellow already," I answered smiling, but sad in the depths of my soul, "I am thirty-six years old."

"That is a good age for a man. And then, by your looks and strength and suppleness, you are only a boy. I know," he added, casting a mischievous glance towards the place where Isabelita was, "a girl of eighteen Aprils who would marry you in preference to all the young bucks of the city."

"Bah! this girl would laugh if you should propose to her a man double her age."

"Don't you believe it! Because you know it already, I will tell you in confidence that Isabelita admires you."

"But, man----"

"No, no. I know particularly that she admires you."

The thing was serious. This unexpected admiration made me anxious and timid. I could not see my face in a mirror, because there was none there; but a glance at my s.h.a.ggy, brown hands and at my feet, neither small nor especially well-shod, made me unable to divine the nature or extent of my charms.

Well, well, the least that a man can do when, with reason or without, he finds himself admired by a girl, is to pa.s.s her the plate of olives and ask her if she likes them. This is exactly what I did a little after I had had it brought to my notice that I had fascinated Retamoso's daughter. She p.r.i.c.ked one with her fork, and at once her lovely face was covered with blushes, as if she had p.r.i.c.ked my heart. I was not sure, but I figured that the next thing after this was to serve her a bit of sausage. The same blushes dyed her brow for this hash as for the olives.

The consecutive repet.i.tion of this physiological phenomenon filled my spirit with alarm. My gallant sentiments grew so animated that I did not stop offering her entertainment at very short intervals for some time. I think that if she had taken all I offered her that afternoon, medicine would have been powerless to counteract the effects of my attention, and that angelical being would have spread her wings for heaven, the victim of an indigestion.

Once started on the downward path of soft nothings, I did not hesitate to sit down beside her and let her know that she had wonderful eyes, indescribable; cheeks that were smooth, rose-colored, indescribable; hands little and shapely and charming and--also indescribable. The knowledge of these facts caused her profound surprise, to judge by the look of incredulity that appeared upon her countenance. She told me that truly I knew very well how to go on, and that only a rascal of a sailor, accustomed to flatter women all along the coast, could find such a proceeding possible. Saying this, she grew redder than a cherry.

The conversation went on for some time in this sweet and pleasant fas.h.i.+on, as if we were playing at fencing in a comedy, and while it lasted the blood ebbed and flowed constantly in the face of Isabelita. I outdid myself, as the critics say of bad actors in the journals; that is, I was jolly, smart, full of chaff, and absolutely stupid. Our chat attracted the attention of the rest, and I could see that they looked at us with curiosity and glanced mischievously at one another.

I don't know now what fatuity made me do it, but I begged Tonet to play on his flute, and I proposed that, when the company came, we should dance together. She accepted readily, and laughed a good deal (was it at me?) when we were thus matched. I invited Isabelita, that's sure, and I began jumping about with her like a rattle-pated student, and I was not long in discovering that in a little while everybody was watching us attentively. My agitation was not calmed by this. However, I went on hopping about at a great rate, while everybody applauded, crying _vivas_, and looking at us with laughing eyes. Only the silent Tonet and his immobile son fixed theirs upon us as grave and melancholy as if they wished to remind us of the nothingness of all things human, and the brevity of existence.

Cristina, who until then had been quiet, and on whose brow I could see the lines marked by the scene of the morning, now began quickly to wake up a bit. Her face was so lively that everybody admired it. They had not seen her like that in years. Dona Amparo declared that since she was a little girl, when her playfulness and tricks had caused her mother more than one start, Cristina had not frolicked in such fas.h.i.+on. We encouraged her, applauded her, threw her _chufas_ and almonds until she began to show a wish to dance also. Emilio and her mother would not let her, on account of her condition. But nonsense and witticisms kept on issuing from her mouth, splitting everybody's sides with laughter. She had a lively wit, and she got her words off with a brusque naturalness that gave them a great effect. Some things that she said seemed to me a little das.h.i.+ng, but I admired her so much that I did not mind them. When anyone talks a great deal of nonsense, it is almost impossible to keep within strictly prudent limits.

"This is all right," said Sabas in my ear, seating himself beside me.

"Now you have a chance to strike while the iron is hot. Get in with my uncle. Talk to him about the subject that will b.u.t.ter your bread."

I laughed, but took no further notice. I went on paying court to Isabelita with everybody's good will. I mistake--Dona Clara looked at us now and then with eyes whose expression was a trifle more severe than usual, and she sniffed her Roman nose when we chanced to take a little luncheon of _chufas_. I do not know but I may be wrong, but two or three times I had a notion that I heard her murmur the English word, "Shocking!" This would have been nothing strange, for in difficult places this ill.u.s.trious matron preferred the Anglo-Saxon language to her native idiom. That which I can fearlessly affirm, and n.o.body will contradict, is that I saw her eat more than a kilo of chocolates, and that this operation, however vulgar in itself, did not make her lose one atom of her majesty.

The hour arrived for us to go back to the house for our carriages, to return to the city. But at the moment of starting to walk, Cristina felt very badly. I saw that she grew pale and put her hand several times to her head and heart. The sal-volatile of Dona Amparo was of no avail; neither was the orange-flower water nor the Melisa water, nor other remedies that, like faithful friends, accompanied this nervous lady everywhere. Cristina begged us to leave her alone a moment with Tonet's wife, who would bring her a cup of _tila_. A quarter of an hour later she came out of the cottage, serene, but with reddened eyes. The nervous crisis had ended in tears.

The sun had already disappeared when we started on our walk through the fields of Indian corn and the little fruit orchards. Calming my das.h.i.+ng gallantry and stifling the gush of vanity that had burst forth in my spirit at the supposed admiration of Isabelita, I remained silent and sad. As I was walking apart in company with her and Matilde, I did my utmost to hide it; but seeing that this was impossible, and fearing that they would notice my mood, I made a feint for the purpose of falling back to walk alone. I was displeased with myself. The gallantry of that afternoon seemed to me a treason to my true sentiment, to the sweet and delicate love that I guarded like a treasure in the depth of my heart. I could not but think with disgust that I had descended to the most trivial cheapness. I was afraid, with good reason, that Cristina, whose regard and esteem for me had seemed increasing, would despise me from that hour, and this thought hurt me deeply.

Since her indisposition she had not turned towards me or looked at me, nor spoken a word to me. Luck made it so that she could not help speaking. She had forgotten her watch and left it in the cottage and wished to go back for it. I quickly antic.i.p.ated her. When I returned with it, she waited for me, a little apart from the others.

"Thank you," she said, with a hard, cold face, and tried to rejoin the rest.

Whoever has experienced the pangs of love will believe me when I say that that gloomy countenance gave me inexpressible joy.

"Listen to me a moment, Cristina; I have something to say." I spoke with a voice not quite under control.

"You may say it," she replied, looking over my head at the horizon, and in a glacial tone that, for a like reason, warmed instead of chilling me.

"I wish to beg advice of you and I scarcely dare. Did you notice that this afternoon I paid a little more attention to your Cousin Isabelita, as if I were courting her?"

"No. I have noticed nothing," she answered, more sharply still.

"Because this is the truth--and I venture to say it, it is only because of the great difference in age between us--I only did it because Isabelita admires me."

She gazed at me stupefied, as if she suspected that I had gone mad.

"At least this is what I have been informed in turn by Sabas and Emilio."

"What idiots!" she exclaimed, her lips smiling, understanding my meaning. "They are capable of making sport of everything. Fortunately you are a man of sense, and take no stock in such nonsense; and if not, you would stop at my poor cousin."