{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_2462/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_2462","id":"gutenberg_2462","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2462","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Novels","Liberalism -- Spain -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction","Married women -- Fiction","Religion and politics -- Spain -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction","Social conflict -- Spain -- History -- 19th century -- Fiction","Spain -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction"],"text":"Produced by Dagny; John Bickers; David Widger\n\n\n\n\n\nDONA PERFECTA\n\nby B. PEREZ GALDOS\n\n\nTranslated from the Spanish by Mary J. Serrano\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nThe very acute and lively Spanish critic who signs himself Clar\u00edn, and\nis known personally as Don Leopoldo Alas, says the present Spanish novel\nhas no yesterday, but only a day-before-yesterday. It does not derive\nfrom the romantic novel which immediately preceded that: the novel,\nlarge or little, as it was with Cervantes, Hurtado de Mendoza, Quevedo,\nand the masters of picaresque fiction.\n\nClar\u00edn dates its renascence from the political revolution of 1868,\nwhich gave Spanish literature the freedom necessary to the fiction that\nstudies to reflect modern life, actual ideas, and current aspirations;\nand though its authors were few at first, \u201cthey have never been\nadventurous spirits, friends of Utopia, revolutionists, or impatient\nprogressists and reformers.\u201d He thinks that the most daring, the most\nadvanced, of the new Spanish novelists, and the best by far, is Don\nBenito Perez Galdos.\n\nI should myself have made my little exception in favor of Don Armando\nPalacio Valdes, but Clar\u00edn speaks with infinitely more authority, and I\nam certainly ready to submit when he goes on to say that Galdos is not\na social or literary insurgent; that he has no political or religious\nprejudices; that he shuns extremes, and is charmed with prudence;\nthat his novels do not attack the Catholic dogmas--though they deal so\nseverely with Catholic bigotry--but the customs and ideas cherished\nby secular fanaticism to the injury of the Church. Because this is\nso evident, our critic holds, his novels are \u201cfound in the bosom of\nfamilies in every corner of Spain.\u201d Their popularity among all classes\nin Catholic and prejudiced Spain, and not among free-thinking students\nmerely, bears testimony to the fact that his aim and motive are\nunderstood and appreciated, although his stories are apparently so often\nanti-Catholic.\n\n\nI\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta is, first of all, a story, and a great story, but it is\ncertainly also a story that must appear at times potently, and even\nbitterly, anti-Catholic. Yet it would be a pity and an error to read it\nwith the preoccupation that it was an anti-Catholic tract, for really it\nis not that. If the persons were changed in name and place, and\nmodified in passion to fit a cooler air, it might equally seem an\nanti-Presbyterian or anti-Baptist tract; for what it shows in the light\nof their own hatefulness and cruelty are perversions of any religion,\nany creed. It is not, however, a tract at all; it deals in artistic\nlargeness with the passion of bigotry, as it deals with the passion of\nlove, the passion of ambition, the passion of revenge. But Galdos\nis Spanish and Catholic, and for him the bigotry wears a Spanish and\nCatholic face. That is all.\n\nUp to a certain time, I believe, Galdos wrote romantic or idealistic\nnovels, and one of these I have read, and it tired me very much. It was\ncalled \u201cMarianela,\u201d and it surprised me the more because I was already\nacquainted with his later work, which is all realistic. But one does not\nturn realist in a single night, and although the change in Galdos was\nrapid it was not quite a lightning change; perhaps because it was\nnot merely an outward change, but artistically a change of heart. His\nacceptance in his quality of realist was much more instant than his\nconversion, and vastly wider; for we are told by the critic whom I have\nbeen quoting that Galdos\u2019s earlier efforts, which he called _Episodios\nNacionales_, never had the vogue which his realistic novels have\nenjoyed.\n\nThese were, indeed, tendencious, if I may Anglicize a very necessary\nword from the Spanish _tendencioso_. That is, they dealt with very\nobvious problems, and had very distinct and poignant significations,\nat least in the case of \u201cDo\u00f1a Perfecta,\u201d \u201cLeon Roch,\u201d and \u201cGloria.\u201d In\nstill later novels, Emilia Pardo-Bazan thinks, he has comprehended that\n\u201cthe novel of to-day must take note of the ambient truth, and realize\nthe beautiful with freedom and independence.\u201d This valiant lady, in\nthe campaign for realism which she made under the title of \u201cLa Cuestion\nPalpitante\u201d--one of the best and strongest books on the subject--counts\nhim first among Spanish realists, as Clar\u00edn counts him first among\nSpanish novelists. \u201cWith a certain fundamental humanity,\u201d she says,\n\u201ca certain magisterial simplicity in his creations, with the natural\ntendency of his clear intelligence toward the truth, and with the\nfrankness of his observation, the great novelist was always disposed\nto pass over to realism with arms and munitions; but his aesthetic\ninclinations were idealistic, and only in his latest works has he\nadopted the method of the modern novel, fathomed more and more the human\nheart, and broken once for all with the picturesque and with the typical\npersonages, to embrace the earth we tread.\u201d\n\nFor her, as I confess for me, \u201cDo\u00f1a Perfecta\u201d is not realistic\nenough--realistic as it is; for realism at its best is not tendencious.\nIt does not seek to grapple with human problems, but is richly content\nwith portraying human experiences; and I think Se\u00f1ora Pardo-Bazan is\nright in regarding \u201cDo\u00f1a Perfecta\u201d as transitional, and of a period when\nthe author had not yet assimilated in its fullest meaning the faith he\nhad imbibed.\n\n\nII\n\nYet it is a great novel, as I said; and perhaps because it is\ntransitional it will please the greater number who never really arrive\nanywhere, and who like to find themselves in good company _en route_. It\nis so far like life that it is full of significations which pass beyond\nthe persons and actions involved, and envelop the reader, as if he too\nwere a character of the book, or rather as if its persons were men\nand women of this thinking, feeling, and breathing world, and he must\nrecognize their experiences as veritable facts. From the first moment\nto the last it is like some passage of actual events in which you cannot\nwithhold your compassion, your abhorrence, your admiration, any more\nthan if they took place within your personal knowledge. Where they\ntranscend all facts of your personal knowledge, you do not accuse them\nof improbability, for you feel their potentiality in yourself, and\neasily account for them in the alien circumstance. I am not saying that\nthe story has no faults; it has several. There are tags of romanticism\nfluttering about it here and there; and at times the author permits\nhimself certain old-fashioned literary airs and poses and artifices,\nwhich you simply wonder at. It is in spite of these, and with all these\ndefects, that it is so great and beautiful a book.\n\n\nIII\n\nWhat seems to be so very admirable in the management of the story is the\nauthor\u2019s success in keeping his own counsel. This may seem a very\neasy thing; but, if the reader will think over the novelists of his\nacquaintance, he will find that it is at least very uncommon. They\nmostly give themselves away almost from the beginning, either by their\nanxiety to hide what is coming, or their vanity in hinting what great\nthings they have in store for the reader. Galdos does neither the one\nnor the other. He makes it his business to tell the story as it grows;\nto let the characters unfold themselves in speech and action; to permit\nthe events to happen unheralded. He does not prophesy their course, he\ndoes not forecast the weather even for twenty-four hours; the atmosphere\nbecomes slowly, slowly, but with occasional lifts and reliefs, of such a\nbrooding breathlessness, of such a deepening density, that you feel the\nwild passion-storm nearer and nearer at hand, till it bursts at last;\nand then you are astonished that you had not foreseen it yourself from\nthe first moment.\n\nNext to this excellent method, which I count the supreme characteristic\nof the book merely because it represents the whole, and the other\nfacts are in the nature of parts, is the masterly conception of the\ncharacters. They are each typical of a certain side of human nature,\nas most of our personal friends and enemies are; but not exclusively of\nthis side or that. They are each of mixed motives, mixed qualities; none\nof them is quite a monster; though those who are badly mixed do such\nmonstrous things.\n\nPepe Rey, who is such a good fellow--so kind, and brave, and upright,\nand generous, so fine a mind, and so high a soul--is tactless and\nimprudent; he even condescends to the thought of intrigue; and though\nhe rejects his plots at last, his nature has once harbored deceit. Don\nInocencio, the priest, whose control of Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s conscience has\nvitiated the very springs of goodness in her, is by no means bad, aside\nfrom his purposes. He loves his sister and her son tenderly, and wishes\nto provide for them by the marriage which Pepe\u2019s presence threatens to\nprevent. The nephew, though selfish and little, has moments of almost\nbeing a good fellow; the sister, though she is really such a lamb of\nmeekness, becomes a cat, and scratches Don Inocencio dreadfully when he\nweakens in his design against Pepe.\n\nRosario, one of the sweetest and purest images of girlhood that I know\nin fiction, abandons herself with equal passion to the love she feels\nfor her cousin Pepe, and to the love she feels for her mother, Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta. She is ready to fly with him, and yet she betrays him to her\nmother\u2019s pitiless hate.\n\nBut it is Do\u00f1a Perfecta herself who is the transcendent figure, the\nmost powerful creation of the book. In her, bigotry and its fellow-vice,\nhypocrisy, have done their perfect work, until she comes near to being\na devil, and really does some devil\u2019s deeds. Yet even she is not without\nsome extenuating traits. Her bigotry springs from her conscience, and\nshe is truly devoted to her daughter\u2019s eternal welfare; she is of such\na native frankness that at a certain point she tears aside her mask of\ndissimulation and lets Pepe see all the ugliness of her perverted soul.\nShe is wonderfully managed. At what moment does she begin to hate him,\nand to wish to undo her own work in making a match between him and\nher daughter? I could defy anyone to say. All one knows is that at one\nmoment she adores her brother\u2019s son, and at another she abhors him, and\nhas already subtly entered upon her efforts to thwart the affection she\nhas invited in him for her daughter.\n\nCaballuco, what shall I say of Caballuco? He seems altogether bad, but\nthe author lets one imagine that this cruel, this ruthless brute must\nhave somewhere about him traits of lovableness, of leniency, though\nhe never lets one see them. His gratitude to Do\u00f1a Perfecta, even his\nmurderous devotion, is not altogether bad; and he is certainly worse\nthan nature made him, when wrought upon by her fury and the suggestion\nof Don Inocencio. The scene where they work him up to rebellion and\nassassination is a compendium of the history of intolerance; as the\nmean little conceited city of Orbajosas is the microcosm of bigoted and\nreactionary Spain.\n\n\nIV\n\nI have called, or half-called, this book tendencious; but in a certain\nlarger view it is not so. It is the eternal interest of passion working\nupon passion, not the temporary interest of condition antagonizing\ncondition, which renders \u201cDo\u00f1a Perfecta\u201d so poignantly interesting, and\nwhich makes its tragedy immense. But there is hope as well as despair in\nsuch a tragedy. There is the strange support of a bereavement in it,\nthe consolation of feeling that for those who have suffered unto death,\nnothing can harm them more; that even for those who have inflicted their\nsuffering this peace will soon come.\n\n\u201cIs Perez Galdos a pessimist?\u201d asks the critic Clar\u00edn. \u201cNo, certainly;\nbut if he is not, why does he paint us sorrows that seem inconsolable?\nIs it from love of paradox? Is it to show that his genius, which can do\nso much, can paint the shadow lovelier than the light? Nothing of this.\nNothing that is not serious, honest, and noble, is to be found in this\nnovelist. Are they pessimistic, those ballads of the North, that always\nend with vague resonances of woe? Are they pessimists, those singers of\nour own land, who surprise us with tears in the midst of laughter? Is\nNature pessimistic, who is so sad at nightfall that it seems as if day\nwere dying forever? . . . The sadness of art, like that of nature, is\na form of hope. Why is Christianity so artistic? Because it is the\nreligion of sadness.\u201d\n\n\nW. D. HOWELLS.\n\n\n\n\nDONA PERFECTA\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I\n\nVILLAHORRENDA! FIVE MINUTES!\n\nWhen the down train No. 65--of what line it is unnecessary to\nsay--stopped at the little station between kilometres 171 and 172,\nalmost all the second-and third-class passengers remained in the cars,\nyawning or asleep, for the penetrating cold of the early morning did\nnot invite to a walk on the unsheltered platform. The only first-class\npassenger on the train alighted quickly, and addressing a group of the\nemployes asked them if this was the Villahorrenda station.\n\n\u201cWe are in Villahorrenda,\u201d answered the conductor whose voice was\ndrowned by the cackling of the hens which were at that moment being\nlifted into the freight car. \u201cI forgot to call you, Se\u00f1or de Rey. I\nthink they are waiting for you at the station with the beasts.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, how terribly cold it is here!\u201d said the traveller, drawing his\ncloak more closely about him. \u201cIs there no place in the station where\nI could rest for a while, and get warm, before undertaking a journey on\nhorseback through this frozen country?\u201d\n\nBefore he had finished speaking the conductor, called away by the\nurgent duties of his position, went off, leaving our unknown cavalier\u2019s\nquestion unanswered. The latter saw that another employe was coming\ntoward him, holding a lantern in his right hand, that swung back and\nforth as he walked, casting the light on the platform of the station\nin a series of zigzags, like those described by the shower from a\nwatering-pot.\n\n\u201cIs there a restaurant or a bedroom in the station of Villahorrenda?\u201d\n said the traveller to the man with the lantern.\n\n\u201cThere is nothing here,\u201d answered the latter brusquely, running toward\nthe men who were putting the freight on board the cars, and assuaging\nthem with such a volley of oaths, blasphemies, and abusive epithets that\nthe very chickens, scandalized by his brutality, protested against it\nfrom their baskets.\n\n\u201cThe best thing I can do is to get away from this place as quickly as\npossible,\u201d said the gentlemen to himself. \u201cThe conductor said that the\nbeasts were here.\u201d\n\nJust as he had come to this conclusion he felt a thin hand pulling him\ngently and respectfully by the cloak. He turned round and saw a figure\nenveloped in a gray cloak, and out of whose voluminous folds peeped the\nshrivelled and astute countenance of a Castilian peasant. He looked at\nthe ungainly figure, which reminded one of the black poplar among trees;\nhe observed the shrewd eyes that shone from beneath the wide brim of the\nold velvet hat; the sinewy brown hand that grasped a green switch, and\nthe broad foot that, with every movement, made the iron spur jingle.\n\n\u201cAre you Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9 de Rey?\u201d asked the peasant, raising his hand to\nhis hat.\n\n\u201cYes; and you, I take it,\u201d answered the traveller joyfully, \u201care Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta\u2019s servant, who have come to the station to meet me and show me\nthe way to Orbajosa?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe same. Whenever you are ready to start. The pony runs like the\nwind. And Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9, I am sure, is a good rider. For what comes by\nrace--\u201d\n\n\u201cWhich is the way out?\u201d asked the traveller, with impatience. \u201cCome, let\nus start, se\u00f1or--What is your name?\u201d\n\n\u201cMy name is Pedro Lucas,\u201d answered the man of the gray cloak, again\nmaking a motion to take off his hat; \u201cbut they call me Uncle Licurgo.\nWhere is the young gentleman\u2019s baggage?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere it is--there under the cloak. There are three pieces--two\nportmanteaus and a box of books for Se\u00f1or Don Cayetano. Here is the\ncheck.\u201d\n\nA moment later cavalier and squire found themselves behind the barracks\ncalled a depot, and facing a road which, starting at this point,\ndisappeared among the neighboring hills, on whose naked slopes could be\nvaguely distinguished the miserable hamlet of Villahorrenda. There were\nthree animals to carry the men and the luggage. A not ill-looking nag\nwas destined for the cavalier; Uncle Licurgo was to ride a venerable\nhack, somewhat loose in the joints, but sure-footed; and the mule, which\nwas to be led by a stout country boy of active limbs and fiery blood,\nwas to carry the luggage.\n\nBefore the caravan had put itself in motion the train had started, and\nwas now creeping along the road with the lazy deliberation of a way\ntrain, awakening, as it receded in the distance, deep subterranean\nechoes. As it entered the tunnel at kilometre 172, the steam issued from\nthe steam whistle with a shriek that resounded through the air. From the\ndark mouth of the tunnel came volumes of whitish smoke, a succession of\nshrill screams like the blasts of a trumpet followed, and at the sound\nof its stentorian voice villages, towns, the whole surrounding country\nawoke. Here a cock began to crow, further on another. Day was beginning\nto dawn.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II\n\nA JOURNEY IN THE HEART OF SPAIN\n\nWhen they had proceeded some distance on their way and had left behind\nthem the hovels of Villahorrenda, the traveller, who was young and\nhandsome spoke thus:\n\n\u201cTell me, Se\u00f1or Solon--\u201d\n\n\u201cLicurgo, at your service.\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Licurgo, I mean. But I was right in giving you the name of a wise\nlegislator of antiquity. Excuse the mistake. But to come to the point.\nTell me, how is my aunt?\u201d\n\n\u201cAs handsome as ever,\u201d answered the peasant, pushing his beast forward\na little. \u201cTime seems to stand still with Se\u00f1ora Do\u00f1a Perfecta. They say\nthat God gives long life to the good, and if that is so that angel of\nthe Lord ought to live a thousand years. If all the blessings that are\nshowered on her in this world were feathers, the se\u00f1ora would need no\nother wings to go up to heaven with.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd my cousin, Se\u00f1orita Rosario?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe se\u00f1ora over again!\u201d said the peasant. \u201cWhat more can I tell you of\nDo\u00f1a Rosarito but that that she is the living image of her mother? You\nwill have a treasure, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9, if it is true, as I hear, that you\nhave come to be married to her. She will be a worthy mate for you, and\nthe young lady will have nothing to complain of, either. Between Pedro\nand Pedro the difference is not very great.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd Se\u00f1or Don Cayetano?\u201d\n\n\u201cBuried in his books as usual. He has a library bigger than the\ncathedral; and he roots up the earth, besides, searching for stones\ncovered with fantastical scrawls, that were written, they say, by the\nMoors.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow soon shall we reach Orbajosa?\u201d\n\n\u201cBy nine o\u2019clock, God willing. How delighted the se\u00f1ora will be when she\nsees her nephew! And yesterday, Se\u00f1orita Rosario was putting the room\nyou are to have in order. As they have never seen you, both mother and\ndaughter think of nothing else but what Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9 is like, or is\nnot like. The time has now come for letters to be silent and tongues\nto talk. The young lady will see her cousin and all will be joy and\nmerry-making. If God wills, all will end happily, as the saying is.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs neither my aunt nor my cousin has yet seen me,\u201d said the traveller\nsmiling, \u201cit is not wise to make plans.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s true; for that reason it was said that the bay horse is of one\nmind and he who saddles him of another,\u201d answered the peasant. \u201cBut\nthe face does not lie. What a jewel you are getting! and she, what a\nhandsome man!\u201d\n\nThe young man did not hear Uncle Licurgo\u2019s last words, for he was\npreoccupied with his own thoughts. Arrived at a bend in the road, the\npeasant turned his horse\u2019s head in another direction, saying:\n\n\u201cWe must follow this path now. The bridge is broken, and the river can\nonly be forded at the Hill of the Lilies.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Hill of the Lilies,\u201d repeated the cavalier, emerging from his\nrevery. \u201cHow abundant beautiful names are in these unattractive\nlocalities! Since I have been travelling in this part of the country\nthe terrible irony of the names is a constant surprise to me. Some place\nthat is remarkable for its barren aspect and the desolate sadness of\nthe landscape is called Valleameno (Pleasant Valley). Some wretched\nmud-walled village stretched on a barren plain and proclaiming its\npoverty in diverse ways has the insolence to call itself Villarica (Rich\nTown); and some arid and stony ravine, where not even the thistles\ncan find nourishment, calls itself, nevertheless, Valdeflores (Vale of\nFlowers). That hill in front of us is the Hill of the Lilies? But where,\nin Heaven\u2019s name, are the lilies? I see nothing but stones and withered\ngrass. Call it Hill of Desolation, and you will be right. With the\nexception of Villahorrenda, whose appearance corresponds with its name,\nall is irony here. Beautiful words, a prosaic and mean reality. The\nblind would be happy in this country, which for the tongue is a Paradise\nand for the eyes a hell.\u201d\n\nSe\u00f1or Licurgo either did not hear the young man\u2019s words, or, hearing, he\npaid no attention to them. When they had forded the river, which, turbid\nand impetuous, hurried on with impatient haste, as if fleeing from its\nown hands, the peasant pointed with outstretched arm to some barren and\nextensive fields that were to be seen on the left, and said:\n\n\u201cThose are the Poplars of Bustamante.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy lands!\u201d exclaimed the traveller joyfully, gazing at the melancholy\nfields illumined by the early morning light. \u201cFor the first time, I see\nthe patrimony which I inherited from my mother. The poor woman used to\npraise this country so extravagantly, and tell me so many marvellous\nthings about it when I was a child, that I thought that to be here was\nto be in heaven. Fruits, flowers, game, large and small; mountains,\nlakes, rivers, romantic streams, pastoral hills, all were to be found\nin the Poplars of Bustamante; in this favored land, the best and most\nbeautiful on the earth. But what is to be said? The people of this place\nlive in their imaginations. If I had been brought here in my youth, when\nI shared the ideas and the enthusiasm of my dear mother, I suppose that\nI, too, would have been enchanted with these bare hills, these arid or\nmarshy plains, these dilapidated farmhouses, these rickety norias,\nwhose buckets drip water enough to sprinkle half a dozen cabbages, this\nwretched and barren desolation that surrounds me.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is the best land in the country,\u201d said Se\u00f1or Licurgo; \u201cand for the\nchick-pea, there is no other like it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am delighted to hear it, for since they came into my possession these\nfamous lands have never brought me a penny.\u201d\n\nThe wise legislator of Sparta scratched his ear and gave a sigh.\n\n\u201cBut I have been told,\u201d continued the young man, \u201cthat some of the\nneighboring proprietors have put their ploughs in these estates of mine,\nand that, little by little, they are filching them from me. Here\nthere are neither landmarks nor boundaries, nor real ownership, Se\u00f1or\nLicurgo.\u201d\n\nThe peasant, after a pause, during which his subtle intellect seemed to\nbe occupied in profound disquisitions, expressed himself as follows:\n\n\u201cUncle Paso Largo, whom, for his great foresight, we call the\nPhilosopher, set his plough in the Poplars, above the hermitage, and bit\nby bit, he has gobbled up six fanegas.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat an incomparable school!\u201d exclaimed the young man, smiling. \u201cI\nwager that he has not been the only--philosopher?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a true saying that one should talk only about what one knows, and\nthat if there is food in the dove-cote, doves won\u2019t be wanting. But you,\nSe\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9, can apply to your own cause the saying that the eye of\nthe master fattens the ox, and now that you are here, try and recover\nyour property.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps that would not be so easy, Se\u00f1or Licurgo,\u201d returned the young\nman, just as they were entering a path bordered on either side by\nwheat-fields, whose luxuriance and early ripeness gladdened the eye.\n\u201cThis field appears to be better cultivated. I see that all is not\ndreariness and misery in the Poplars.\u201d\n\nThe peasant assumed a melancholy look, and, affecting something of\ndisdain for the fields that had been praised by the traveller, said in\nthe humblest of tones:\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or, this is mine.\u201d\n\n\u201cI beg your pardon,\u201d replied the gentleman quickly; \u201cnow I was going to\nput my sickle in your field. Apparently the philosophy of this place is\ncontagious.\u201d\n\nThey now descended into a canebrake, which formed the bed of a shallow\nand stagnant brook, and, crossing it, they entered a field full of\nstones and without the slightest trace of vegetation.\n\n\u201cThis ground is very bad,\u201d said the young man, turning round to look\nat his companion and guide, who had remained a little behind. \u201cYou\nwill hardly be able to derive any profit from it, for it is all mud and\nsand.\u201d\n\nLicurgo, full of humility, answered:\n\n\u201cThis is yours.\u201d\n\n\u201cI see that all the poor land is mine,\u201d declared the young man, laughing\ngood-humoredly.\n\nAs they were thus conversing, they turned again into the high-road. The\nmorning sunshine, pouring joyously through all the gates and balconies\nof the Spanish horizon, had now inundated the fields with brilliant\nlight. The wide sky, undimmed by a single cloud, seemed to grow wider\nand to recede further from the earth, in order to contemplate it, and\nrejoice in the contemplation, from a greater height. The desolate,\ntreeless land, straw-colored at intervals, at intervals of the color\nof chalk, and all cut up into triangles and quadrilaterals, yellow or\nblack, gray or pale green, bore a fanciful resemblance to a beggar\u2019s\ncloak spread out in the sun. On that miserable cloak Christianity and\nIslamism had fought with each other epic battles. Glorious fields, in\ntruth, but the combats of the past had left them hideous!\n\n\u201cI think we shall have a scorching day, Se\u00f1or Licurgo,\u201d said the young\nman, loosening his cloak a little. \u201cWhat a dreary road! Not a single\ntree to be seen, as far as the eye can reach. Here everything is in\ncontradiction. The irony does not cease. Why, when there are no poplars\nhere, either large or small, should this be called The Poplars?\u201d\n\nUncle Licurgo did not answer this question because he was listening\nwith his whole soul to certain sounds which were suddenly heard in the\ndistance, and with an uneasy air he stopped his beast, while he explored\nthe road and the distant hills with a gloomy look.\n\n\u201cWhat is the matter?\u201d asked the traveller, stopping his horse also.\n\n\u201cDo you carry arms, Don Jos\u00e9?\u201d\n\n\u201cA revolver--ah! now I understand. Are there robbers about?\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps,\u201d answered the peasant, with visible apprehension. \u201cI think I\nheard a shot.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe shall soon see. Forward!\u201d said the young man, putting spurs to his\nnag. \u201cThey are not very terrible, I dare say.\u201d\n\n\u201cKeep quiet, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9,\u201d exclaimed the peasant, stopping him.\n\u201cThose people are worse than Satan himself. The other day they murdered\ntwo gentlemen who were on their way to take the train. Let us leave off\njesting. Gasparon el Fuerte, Pepito Chispillas, Merengue, and Ahorca\nSuegras shall not see my face while I live. Let us turn into the path.\u201d\n\n\u201cForward, Se\u00f1or Licurgo!\u201d\n\n\u201cBack, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9,\u201d replied the peasant, in distressed accents.\n\u201cYou don\u2019t know what kind of people those are. They are the same men\nwho stole the chalice, the Virgin\u2019s crown, and two candlesticks from the\nchurch of the Carmen last month; they are the men who robbed the Madrid\ntrain two years ago.\u201d\n\nDon Jos\u00e9, hearing these alarming antecedents, felt his courage begin to\ngive way.\n\n\u201cDo you see that great high hill in the distance? Well, that is where\nthose rascals hide themselves; there in some caves which they call the\nRetreat of the Cavaliers.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf the Cavaliers?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, se\u00f1or. They come down to the high-road when the Civil Guards are\nnot watching, and rob all they can. Do you see a cross beyond the bend\nof the road? Well, that was erected in remembrance of the death of the\nAlcalde of Villahorrenda, whom they murdered there at the time of the\nelections.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I see the cross.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is an old house there, in which they hide themselves to wait for\nthe carriers. They call that place The Pleasaunce.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Pleasaunce?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf all the people who have been murdered and robbed there were to be\nrestored they would form an army.\u201d\n\nWhile they were thus talking shots were again heard, this time nearer\nthan before, which made the valiant hearts of the travellers quake a\nlittle, but not that of the country lad, who, jumping about for joy,\nasked Se\u00f1or Licurgo\u2019s permission to go forward to watch the conflict\nwhich was taking place so near them. Observing the courage of the boy\nDon Jos\u00e9 felt a little ashamed of having been frightened, or at least\na little disturbed, by the proximity of the robbers, and cried, putting\nspurs to his nag:\n\n\u201cWe will go forward, then. Perhaps we may be able to lend assistance to\nthe unlucky travellers who find themselves in so perilous a situation,\nand give a lesson besides to those cavaliers.\u201d\n\nThe peasant endeavored to convince the young man of the rashness of his\npurpose, as well as of the profitlessness of his generous design, since\nthose who had been robbed were robbed and perhaps dead also, and not in\na condition to need the assistance of any one.\n\nThe gentleman insisted, in spite of these sage counsels; the peasant\nreiterated his objections more strongly than before; when the appearance\nof two or three carters, coming quietly down the road driving a wagon,\nput an end to the controversy. The danger could not be very great when\nthese men were coming along so unconcernedly, singing merry songs; and\nsuch was in fact the case, for the shots, according to what the carters\nsaid, had not been fired by the robbers, but by the Civil Guards, who\ndesired in this way to prevent the escape of half a dozen thieves whom\nthey were taking, bound together, to the town jail.\n\n\u201cYes, I know now what it was,\u201d said Licurgo, pointing to a light cloud\nof smoke which was to be seen some distance off, to the right of the\nroad. \u201cThey have peppered them there. That happens every other day.\u201d\n\nThe young man did not understand.\n\n\u201cI assure you, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9,\u201d added the Lacedaemonian legislator, with\nenergy, \u201cthat it was very well done; for it is of no use to try those\nrascals. The judge cross-questions them a little and then lets them go.\nIf at the end of a trial dragged out for half a dozen years one of them\nis sent to jail, at the moment least expected he escapes, and returns to\nthe Retreat of the Cavaliers. That is the best thing to do--shoot them!\nTake them to prison, and when you are passing a suitable place--Ah, dog,\nso you want to escape, do you? pum! pum! The indictment is drawn up, the\nwitnesses summoned, the trial ended, the sentence pronounced--all in\na minute. It is a true saying that the fox is very cunning, but he who\ncatches him is more cunning still.\u201d\n\n\u201cForward, then, and let us ride faster, for this road, besides being a\nlong one, is not at all a pleasant one,\u201d said Rey.\n\nAs they passed The Pleasaunce, they saw, a little in from the road, the\nguards who a few minutes before had executed the strange sentence\nwith which the reader has been made acquainted. The country boy was\ninconsolable because they rode on and he was not allowed to get a\nnearer view of the palpitating bodies of the robbers, which could be\ndistinguished forming a horrible group in the distance. But they had not\nproceeded twenty paces when they heard the sound of a horse galloping\nafter them at so rapid a pace that he gained upon them every moment. Our\ntraveller turned round and saw a man, or rather a Centaur, for the most\nperfect harmony imaginable existed between horse and rider. The latter\nwas of a robust and plethoric constitution, with large fiery eyes,\nrugged features, and a black mustache. He was of middle age and had a\ngeneral air of rudeness and aggressiveness, with indications of strength\nin his whole person. He was mounted on a superb horse with a muscular\nchest, like the horses of the Parthenon, caparisoned in the picturesque\nfashion of the country, and carrying on the crupper a great leather bag\non the cover of which was to be seen, in large letters, the word Mail.\n\n\u201cHello! Good-day, Se\u00f1or Caballuco,\u201d said Licurgo, saluting the horseman\nwhen the latter had come up with them. \u201cHow is it that we got so far\nahead of you? But you will arrive before us, if you set your mind to\nit.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will rest a little,\u201d answered Se\u00f1or Caballuco, adapting his horse\u2019s\npace to that of our travellers\u2019 beasts, and attentively observing the\nmost distinguished of the three, \u201csince there is such good company.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis gentleman,\u201d said Licurgo, smiling, \u201cis the nephew of Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! At your service, se\u00f1or.\u201d\n\nThe two men saluted each other, it being noticeable that Caballuco\nperformed his civilities with an expression of haughtiness and\nsuperiority that revealed, at the very least, a consciousness of great\nimportance, and of a high standing in the district. When the arrogant\nhorseman rode aside to stop and talk for a moment with two Civil Guards\nwho passed them on the road, the traveller asked his guide:\n\n\u201cWho is that odd character?\u201d\n\n\u201cWho should it be? Caballuco.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who is Caballuco?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! Have you never heard of Caballuco?\u201d said the countryman, amazed\nat the crass ignorance of Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s nephew. \u201cHe is a very brave\nman, a fine rider, and the best connoisseur of horses in all the\nsurrounding country. We think a great deal of him in Orbajosa; and he is\nwell worthy of it. Just as you see him, he is a power in the place, and\nthe governor of the province takes off his hat to him.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen there is an election!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the Governor of Madrid writes official letters to him with a\ngreat many titles in the superscription. He throws the bar like a St.\nChristopher, and he can manage every kind of weapon as easily as we\nmanage our fingers. When there was market inspection here, they could\nnever get the best of him, and shots were to be heard every night at\nthe city gates. He has a following that is worth any money, for they are\nready for anything. He is good to the poor, and any stranger who should\ncome here and attempt to touch so much as a hair of the head of any\nnative of Orbajosa would have him to settle with. It is very seldom that\nsoldiers come here from Madrid, but whenever they do come, not a day\npasses without blood being shed, for Caballuco would pick a quarrel with\nthem, if not for one thing for another. At present it seems that he\nis fallen into poverty and he is employed to carry the mail. But he is\ntrying hard to persuade the Town Council to have a market-inspector\u2019s\noffice here again and to put him in charge of it. I don\u2019t know how it is\nthat you have never heard him mentioned in Madrid, for he is the son of\na famous Caballuco who was in the last rebellion, and who was himself\nthe son of another Caballuco, who was also in the rebellion of that\nday. And as there is a rumor now that there is going to be another\ninsurrection--for the whole country is in a ferment--we are afraid that\nCaballuco will join that also, following in the illustrious footsteps of\nhis father and his grandfather, who, to our glory be it said, were born\nin our city.\u201d\n\nOur traveller was surprised to see the species of knight-errantry that\nstill existed in the regions which he had come to visit, but he had no\nopportunity to put further questions, for the man who was the object of\nthem now joined them, saying with an expression of ill-humor:\n\n\u201cThe Civil Guard despatched three. I have already told the commander to\nbe careful what he is about. To-morrow we will speak to the governor of\nthe province, and I----\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you going to X.?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; but the governor is coming here, Se\u00f1or Licurgo; do you know that\nthey are going to send us a couple of regiments to Orbajosa?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d said the traveller quickly, with a smile. \u201cI heard it said in\nMadrid that there was some fear of a rising in this place. It is well to\nbe prepared for what may happen.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey talk nothing but nonsense in Madrid,\u201d exclaimed the\nCentaur violently, accompanying his affirmation with a string of\ntongue-blistering vocables. \u201cIn Madrid there is nothing but rascality.\nWhat do they send us soldiers for? To squeeze more contributions out of\nus and a couple of conscriptions afterward. By all that\u2019s holy! if there\nisn\u2019t a rising there ought to be. So you\u201d--he ended, looking banteringly\nat the young man--\u201cso you are Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s nephew?\u201d\n\nThis abrupt question and the insolent glance of the bravo annoyed the\nyoung man.\n\n\u201cYes, se\u00f1or, at your service.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am a friend of the se\u00f1ora\u2019s, and I love her as I do the apple of my\neye,\u201d said Caballuco. \u201cAs you are going to Orbajosa we shall see each\nother there.\u201d\n\nAnd without another word he put spurs to his horse, which, setting off\nat a gallop, soon disappeared in a cloud of dust.\n\nAfter half an hour\u2019s ride, during which neither Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9 nor Se\u00f1or\nLicurgo manifested much disposition to talk, the travellers came in\nsight of an ancient-looking town seated on the slope of a hill, from the\nmidst of whose closely clustered houses arose many dark towers, and,\non a height above it, the ruins of a dilapidated castle. Its base was\nformed by a mass of shapeless walls, of mud hovels, gray and dusty\nlooking as the soil, together with some fragments of turreted walls, in\nwhose shelter about a thousand humble huts raised their miserable\nadobe fronts, like anaemic and hungry faces demanding an alms from the\npasser-by. A shallow river surrounded the town, like a girdle of tin,\nrefreshing, in its course, several gardens, the only vegetation that\ncheered the eye. People were going into and coming out of the town, on\nhorseback and on foot, and the human movement, although not great, gave\nsome appearance of life to that great dwelling place whose architectural\naspect was rather that of ruin and death than of progress and life.\nThe innumerable and repulsive-looking beggars who dragged themselves on\neither side of the road, asking the obolus from the passer-by, presented\na pitiful spectacle. It would be impossible to see beings more in\nharmony with, or better suited to the fissures of that sepulchre in\nwhich a city was not only buried but gone to decay. As our travellers\napproached the town, a discordant peal of bells gave token, with their\nexpressive sound, that that mummy had still a soul.\n\nIt was called Orbajosa, a city that figures, not in the Chaldean\nor Coptic geography, but in that of Spain, with 7324 inhabitants, a\ntown-hall, an episcopal seat, a court-house, a seminary, a stock farm, a\nhigh school, and other official prerogatives.\n\n\u201cThe bells are ringing for high mass in the cathedral,\u201d said Uncle\nLicurgo. \u201cWe have arrived sooner than I expected.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe appearance of your native city,\u201d said the young man, examining the\npanorama spread out before him, \u201ccould not be more disagreeable. The\nhistoric city of Orbajosa, whose name is no doubt a corruption of Urbs\nAugusta, looks like a great dunghill.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll that can be seen from here is the suburbs,\u201d said the guide, in\nan offended tone. \u201cWhen you enter the Calle Real and the Calle de\nCondestable, you will see handsome buildings, like the cathedral.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t want to speak ill of Orbajosa before seeing it,\u201d said the young\nman. \u201cAnd you must not take what I have said as a mark of contempt, for\nwhether humble and mean, or stately and handsome, that city will always\nbe very dear to me, not only is it my mother\u2019s native place, but because\nthere are persons living in it whom I love without seeing them. Let us\nenter the august city, then.\u201d\n\nThey were now ascending a road on the outskirts of the town, and passing\nclose to the walls of the gardens.\n\n\u201cDo you see that great house at the end of this large garden whose\nwall we are now passing?\u201d said Uncle Licurgo, pointing to a massive,\nwhitewashed wall belonging to the only dwelling in view which had the\nappearance of a cheerful and comfortable habitation.\n\n\u201cYes; that is my aunt\u2019s house?\u201d\n\n\u201cExactly so! What we are looking at is the rear of the house. The front\nfaces the Calle del Condestable, and it has five iron balconies that\nlook like five castles. The fine garden behind the wall belongs to the\nhouse, and if you rise up in your stirrups you will be able to see it\nall from here.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, we are at the house, then!\u201d cried the young man. \u201cCan we not enter\nfrom here?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is a little door, but the se\u00f1ora had it condemned.\u201d\n\nThe young man raised himself in his stirrups and, stretching his neck as\nfar as he could, looked over the wall.\n\n\u201cI can see the whole of the garden,\u201d he said. \u201cThere, under the trees,\nthere is a woman, a girl, a young lady.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is Se\u00f1orita Rosario,\u201d answered Licurgo.\n\nAnd at the same time he also raised himself in his stirrups to look over\nthe wall.\n\n\u201cEh! Se\u00f1orita Rosario!\u201d he cried, making energetic signs with his right\nhand. \u201cHere we are; I have brought your cousin with me.\u201d\n\n\u201cShe has seen us,\u201d said the young man, stretching out his neck as far as\nwas possible. \u201cBut if I am not mistaken, there is an ecclesiastic with\nher--a priest.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is the Penitentiary,\u201d answered the countryman, with naturalness.\n\n\u201cMy cousin has seen us--she has left the priest, and is running toward\nthe house. She is beautiful.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs the sun!\u201d\n\n\u201cShe has turned redder than a cherry. Come, come, Se\u00f1or Licurgo.\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III\n\nPEPE REY\n\nBefore proceeding further, it will be well to tell who Pepe Rey was, and\nwhat were the affairs which had brought him to Orbajosa.\n\nWhen Brigadier Rey died in 1841, his two children, Juan and Perfecta,\nhad just married: the latter the richest land-owner of Orbajosa, the\nformer a young girl of the same city. The husband of Perfecta was\ncalled Don Manuel Maria Jos\u00e9 de Polentinos, and the wife of Juan, Maria\nPolentinos; but although they had the same surname, their relationship\nwas somewhat distant and not very easy to make out. Juan Rey was a\ndistinguished jurisconsult who had been graduated in Seville and had\npractised law in that city for thirty years with no less honor than\nprofit. In 1845 he was left a widower with a son who was old enough\nto play mischievous pranks; he would sometimes amuse himself by\nconstructing viaducts, mounds, ponds, dikes, and trenches of earth, in\nthe yard of the house, and then flooding those fragile works with water.\nHis father let him do so, saying, \u201cYou will be an engineer.\u201d\n\nPerfecta and Juan had ceased to see each other from the time of their\nmarriage, because the sister had gone to Madrid with her husband, the\nwealthy Polentinos, who was as rich as he was extravagant. Play and\nwomen had so completely enslaved Manuel Maria Jos\u00e9 that he would have\ndissipated all his fortune, if death had not been beforehand with him\nand carried him off before he had had time to squander it. In a night of\norgy the life of the rich provincial, who had been sucked so voraciously\nby the leeches of the capital and the insatiable vampire of play, came\nto a sudden termination. His sole heir was a daughter a few months old.\nWith the death of Perfecta\u2019s husband the terrors of the family were\nat an end, but the great struggle began. The house of Polentinos was\nruined; the estates were in danger of being seized by the money-lenders;\nall was in confusion: enormous debts, lamentable management in Orbajosa,\ndiscredit and ruin in Madrid.\n\nPerfecta sent for her brother, who, coming to the distressed widow\u2019s\nassistance, displayed so much diligence and skill that in a short time\nthe greater part of the dangers that threatened her had disappeared. He\nbegan by obliging his sister to live in Orbajosa, managing herself her\nvast estates, while he faced the formidable pressure of the creditors in\nMadrid. Little by little the house freed itself from the enormous burden\nof its debts, for the excellent Don Juan Rey, who had the best way\nin the world for managing such matters, pleaded in the court, made\nsettlements with the principal creditors and arranged to pay them by\ninstalments, the result of this skilful management being that the rich\npatrimony of Polentinos was saved from ruin and might continue, for many\nyears to come, to bestow splendor and glory on that illustrious family.\n\nPerfecta\u2019s gratitude was so profound that in writing to her brother from\nOrbajosa, where she determined to reside until her daughter should be\ngrown up, she said to him, among other affectionate things: \u201cYou have\nbeen more than a brother to me, more than a father to my daughter.\nHow can either of us ever repay you for services so great? Ah, my dear\nbrother? from the moment in which my daughter can reason and pronounce a\nname I will teach her to bless yours. My gratitude will end only with my\nlife. Your unworthy sister regrets only that she can find no opportunity\nof showing you how much she loves you and of recompensing you in a\nmanner suited to the greatness of your soul and the boundless goodness\nof your heart.\u201d\n\nAt the same time when these words were written Rosarito was two years\nold. Pepe Rey, shut up in a school in Seville, was making lines on\npaper, occupied in proving that \u201cthe sum of all the interior angles of\nany polygon is equal to twice as many right angles, wanting four, as the\nfigure has sides.\u201d These vexatious commonplaces of the school kept him\nvery busy. Year after year passed. The boy grew up, still continuing\nto make lines. At last, he made one which is called \u201cFrom Tarragona to\nMontblanch.\u201d His first serious toy was the bridge, 120 metres in length,\nover the River Francoli.\n\nDuring all this time Do\u00f1a Perfecta continued to live in Orbajosa. As her\nbrother never left Seville, several years passed without their seeing\neach other. A quarterly letter, as punctually written as it was\npunctually answered, kept in communication these two hearts, whose\naffection neither time nor distance could cool. In 1870, when Don Juan\nRey, satisfied with having fulfilled his mission in society, retired\nfrom it and went to live in his fine house in Puerto Real, Pepe, who had\nbeen employed for several years in the works of various rich building\ncompanies, set out on a tour through Germany and England, for the\npurpose of study. His father\u2019s fortune, (as large as it is possible for\na fortune which has only an honorable law-office for its source to be in\nSpain), permitted him to free himself in a short time from the yoke\nof material labor. A man of exalted ideas and with an ardent love for\nscience, he found his purest enjoyment in the observation and study of\nthe marvels by means of which the genius of the age furthers at the same\ntime the culture and material comfort and the moral progress of man.\n\nOn returning from his tour his father informed him that he had an\nimportant project to communicate to him. Pepe supposed that it concerned\nsome bridge, dockyard, or, at the least, the draining of some marsh,\nbut Don Juan soon dispelled his error, disclosing to him his plan in the\nfollowing words:\n\n\u201cThis is March, and Perfecta\u2019s quarterly letter has not failed to\ncome. Read it, my dear boy, and if you can agree to what that holy\nand exemplary woman, my dear sister, says in it, you will give me the\ngreatest happiness I could desire in my old age. If the plan does not\nplease you, reject it without hesitation, for, although your refusal\nwould grieve me, there is not in it the shadow of constraint on my part.\nIt would be unworthy of us both that it should be realized through the\ncoercion of an obstinate father. You are free either to accept or to\nreject it, and if there is in your mind the slightest repugnance to it,\narising either from your inclinations or from any other cause, I do not\nwish you to do violence to your feelings on my account.\u201d\n\nPepe laid the letter on the table after he had glanced through it, and\nsaid quietly:\n\n\u201cMy aunt wishes me to marry Rosario!\u201d\n\n\u201cShe writes accepting joyfully my idea,\u201d said his father, with emotion.\n\u201cFor the idea was mine. Yes, it is a long time, a very long time since\nit occurred to me; but I did not wish to say anything to you until\nI knew what your sister might think about it. As you see, Perfecta\nreceives my plan with joy; she says that she too had thought of it, but\nthat she did not venture to mention it to me, because you are--you have\nseen what she says--because you are a young man of very exceptional\nmerit and her daughter is a country girl, without either a brilliant\neducation or worldly attractions. Those are her words. My poor sister!\nHow good she is! I see that you are not displeased; I see that this\nproject of mine, resembling a little the officious prevision of the\nfathers of former times who married their children without consulting\ntheir wishes in the matter, and making generally inconsiderate and\nunwise matches, does not seem absurd to you. God grant that this may be,\nas it seems to promise, one of the happiest. It is true that you have\nnever seen your cousin, but we are both aware of her virtue, of her\ndiscretion, of her modest and noble simplicity. That nothing may be\nwanting, she is even beautiful. My opinion is,\u201d he added gayly, \u201cthat\nyou should at once start for that out-of-the-way episcopal city, that\nUrbs Augusta, and there, in the presence of my sister and her charming\nRosarito, decide whether the latter is to be something more to me or\nnot, than my niece.\u201d\n\nPepe took up the letter again and read it through carefully. His\ncountenance expressed neither joy nor sorrow. He might have been\nexamining some plan for the junction of two railroads.\n\n\u201cIn truth,\u201d said Don Juan, \u201cin that remote Orbajosa, where, by the way,\nyou have some land that you might take a look at now, life passes with\nthe tranquillity and the sweetness of an idyl. What patriarchal customs!\nWhat noble simplicity! What rural and Virgilian peace! If, instead of\nbeing a mathematician, you were a Latinist, you would repeat, as you\nenter it, the _ergo tua rura manebunt_. What an admirable place in which\nto commune with one\u2019s own soul and to prepare one\u2019s self for good works.\nThere all is kindness and goodness; there the deceit and hypocrisy of\nour great cities are unknown; there the holy inclinations which the\nturmoil of modern life stifles spring into being again; there dormant\nfaith reawakens and one feels within the breast an impulse, vague but\nkeen, like the impatience of youth, that from the depths of the soul\ncries out: \u2018I wish to live!\u2019\u201d\n\nA few days after this conference Pepe left Puerto Real. He had refused,\nsome months before, a commission from the government to survey, in its\nmineralogical aspects, the basin of the River Nahara, in the valley\nof Orbajosa; but the plans to which the conference above recorded gave\nrise, caused him to say to himself: \u201cIt will be as well to make use of\nthe time. Heaven only knows how long this courtship may last, or what\nhours of weariness it may bring with it.\u201d He went, then, to Madrid,\nsolicited the commission to explore the basin of the Nahara, which he\nobtained without difficulty, although he did not belong officially to\nthe mining corps, set out shortly afterward, and, after a second change\nof trains, the mixed train No. 65 bore him, as we have seen, to the\nloving arms of Uncle Licurgo.\n\nThe age of our hero was about thirty-four years. He was of a robust\nconstitution, of athletic build, and so admirably proportioned and of so\ncommanding an appearance that, if he had worn a uniform, he would\nhave presented the most martial air and figure that it is possible to\nimagine. His hair and beard were blond in color, but in his countenance\nthere was none of the phlegmatic imperturbability of the Saxon, but, on\nthe contrary, so much animation that his eyes, although they were not\nblack, seemed to be so. His figure would have served as a perfect and\nbeautiful model for a statue, on the pedestal of which the sculptor\nmight engrave the words: \u201cIntellect, strength.\u201d If not in visible\ncharacters, he bore them vaguely expressed in the brilliancy of his\nglance, in the potent attraction with which his person was peculiarly\nendowed, and in the sympathy which his cordial manners inspired.\n\nHe was not very talkative--only persons of inconstant ideas and unstable\njudgment are prone to verbosity. His profound moral sense made him\nsparing of words in the disputes in which the men of the day are prone\nto engage on any and every subject, but in polite conversation he\ndisplayed an eloquence full of wit and intelligence, emanating always\nfrom good sense and a temperate and just appreciation of worldly\nmatters. He had no toleration for those sophistries, and mystifications,\nand quibbles of the understanding with which persons of intelligence,\nimbued with affected culture, sometimes amuse themselves; and in defence\nof the truth Pepe Rey employed at times, and not always with moderation,\nthe weapon of ridicule. This was almost a defect in the eyes of many\npeople who esteemed him, for our hero thus appeared wanting in respect\nfor a multitude of things commonly accepted and believed. It must be\nacknowledged, although it may lessen him in the opinion of many, that\nRey did not share the mild toleration of the compliant age which has\ninvented strange disguises of words and of acts to conceal what to the\ngeneral eye might be disagreeable.\n\nSuch was the man, whatever slanderous tongues may say to the contrary,\nwhom Uncle Licurgo introduced into Orbajosa just as the cathedral bells\nwere ringing for high mass. When, looking over the garden wall, they saw\nthe young girl and the Penitentiary, and then the flight of the former\ntoward the house, they put spurs to their beasts and entered the Calle\nReal, where a great many idlers stood still to gaze at the traveller, as\nif he were a stranger and an intruder in the patriarchal city. Turning\npresently to the right and riding in the direction of the cathedral,\nwhose massive bulk dominated the town, they entered the Calle del\nCondestable, in which, being narrow and paved, the hoofs of the animals\nclattered noisily, alarming the people of the neighborhood, who came to\nthe windows and to the balconies to satisfy their curiosity. Shutters\nopened with a grating sound and various faces, almost all feminine,\nappeared above and below. By the time Pepe Rey had reached the threshold\nof the house of Polentinos many and diverse comments had been already\nmade on his person.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV\n\nTHE ARRIVAL OF THE COUSIN\n\nWhen Rosarito left him so abruptly the Penitentiary looked toward the\ngarden wall, and seeing the faces of Licurgo and his companion, said to\nhimself:\n\n\u201cSo the prodigy is already here, then.\u201d\n\nHe remained thoughtful for some moments, his cloak, grasped with both\nhands, folded over his abdomen, his eyes fixed on the ground, his\ngold-rimmed spectacles slipping gently toward the point of his nose, his\nunder-lip moist and projecting, and his iron-gray eyebrows gathered in\na slight frown. He was a pious and holy man, of uncommon learning and of\nirreproachable clerical habits, a little past his sixtieth year, affable\nin his manners, courteous and kind, and greatly addicted to giving\nadvice and counsel to both men and women. For many years past he\nhad been master of Latin and rhetoric in the Institute, which noble\nprofession had supplied him with a large fund of quotations from Horace\nand of florid metaphors, which he employed with wit and opportuneness.\nNothing more need be said regarding this personage, but that, as soon as\nhe heard the trot of the animals approaching the Calle del Condestable,\nhe arranged the folds of his cloak, straightened his hat, which was not\naltogether correctly placed upon his venerable head, and, walking toward\nthe house, murmured:\n\n\u201cLet us go and see this paragon.\u201d\n\nMeanwhile Pepe was alighting from his nag, and Do\u00f1a Perfecta, her face\nbathed in tears and barely able to utter a few trembling words, the\nsincere expression of her affection, was receiving him at the gate\nitself in her loving arms.\n\n\u201cPepe--but how tall you are! And with a beard. Why, it seems only\nyesterday that I held you in my lap. And now you are a man, a grown-up\nman. Well, well! How the years pass! This is my daughter Rosario.\u201d\n\nAs she said this they reached the parlor on the ground floor, which\nwas generally used as a reception-room, and Do\u00f1a Perfecta presented her\ndaughter to Pepe.\n\nRosario was a girl of delicate and fragile appearance, that revealed\na tendency to pensive melancholy. In her delicate and pure countenance\nthere was something of the soft, pearly pallor which most novelists\nattribute to their heroines, and without which sentimental varnish it\nappears that no Enriquieta or Julia can be interesting. But what chiefly\ndistinguished Rosario was that her face expressed so much sweetness and\nmodesty that the absence of the perfections it lacked was not observed.\nThis is not to say that she was plain; but, on the other hand, it is\ntrue that it would be an exaggeration to call her beautiful in the\nstrictest meaning of the word. The real beauty of Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s\ndaughter consisted in a species of transparency, different from that\nof pearl, alabaster, marble, or any of the other substances used in\ndescriptions of the human countenance; a species of transparency through\nwhich the inmost depths of her soul were clearly visible; depths not\ncavernous and gloomy, like those of the sea, but like those of a clear\nand placid river. But the material was wanting there for a complete\npersonality. The channel was wanting, the banks were wanting. The vast\nwealth of her spirit overflowed, threatening to wash away the narrow\nborders. When her cousin saluted her she blushed crimson, and uttered\nonly a few unintelligible words.\n\n\u201cYou must be fainting with hunger,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta to her nephew.\n\u201cYou shall have your breakfast at once.\u201d\n\n\u201cWith your permission,\u201d responded the traveller, \u201cI will first go and\nget rid of the dust of the journey.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is a sensible idea,\u201d said the se\u00f1ora. \u201cRosario, take your cousin\nto the room that we have prepared for him. Don\u2019t delay, nephew. I am\ngoing to give the necessary orders.\u201d\n\nRosario took her cousin to a handsome apartment situated on the ground\nfloor. The moment he entered it Pepe recognized in all the details of\nthe room the diligent and loving hand of a woman. All was arranged\nwith perfect taste, and the purity and freshness of everything in this\ncharming nest invited to repose. The guest observed minute details that\nmade him smile.\n\n\u201cHere is the bell,\u201d said Rosario, taking in her hand the bell-rope, the\ntassel of which hung over the head of the bed. \u201cAll you have to do is to\nstretch out your hand. The writing-table is placed so that you will have\nthe light from the left. See, in this basket you can throw the waste\npapers. Do you smoke?\u201d\n\n\u201cUnfortunately, yes,\u201d responded Pepe Rey.\n\n\u201cWell, then, you can throw the ends of your cigars here,\u201d she said,\ntouching with the tip of her shoe a utensil of gilt-brass filled with\nsand. \u201cThere is nothing uglier than to see the floor covered with\ncigar-ends. Here is the washstand. For your clothes you have a wardrobe\nand a bureau. I think this is a bad place for the watch-case; it would\nbe better beside the bed. If the light annoys you, all you have to do is\nto lower the shade with this cord; see, this way.\u201d\n\nThe engineer was enchanted.\n\nRosarito opened one of the windows.\n\n\u201cLook,\u201d she said, \u201cthis window opens into the garden. The sun comes in\nhere in the afternoon. Here we have hung the cage of a canary that sings\nas if he was crazy. If his singing disturbs you we will take it away.\u201d\n\nShe opened another window on the opposite side of the room.\n\n\u201cThis other window,\u201d she continued, \u201clooks out on the street. Look;\nfrom here you can see the cathedral; it is very handsome, and full of\nbeautiful things. A great many English people come to see it. Don\u2019t open\nboth windows at the same time, because draughts are very bad.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear cousin,\u201d said Pepe, his soul inundated with an inexplicable\njoy; \u201cin all that is before my eyes I see an angel\u2019s hand that can be\nonly yours. What a beautiful room this is! It seems to me as if I had\nlived in it all my life. It invites to peace.\u201d\n\nRosarito made no answer to these affectionate expressions, and left the\nroom, smiling.\n\n\u201cMake no delay,\u201d she said from the door; \u201cthe dining-room too is down\nstairs--in the centre of this hall.\u201d\n\nUncle Licurgo came in with the luggage. Pepe rewarded him with a\nliberality to which the countryman was not accustomed, and the latter,\nafter humbly thanking the engineer, raised his hand to his head with a\nhesitating movement, and in an embarrassed tone, and mumbling his words,\nhe said hesitatingly:\n\n\u201cWhen will it be most convenient for me to speak to Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9 about\na--a little matter of business?\u201d\n\n\u201cA little matter of business? At once,\u201d responded Pepe, opening one of\nhis trunks.\n\n\u201cThis is not a suitable time,\u201d said the countryman. \u201cWhen Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9\nhas rested it will be time enough. There are more days than sausages,\nas the saying is; and after one day comes another. Rest now, Se\u00f1or\nDon Jos\u00e9. Whenever you want to take a ride--the nag is not bad.\nWell, good-day, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9. I am much obliged to you. Ah! I had\nforgotten,\u201d he added, returning a few moments later. \u201cIf you have any\nmessage for the municipal judge--I am going now to speak to him about\nour little affair.\u201d\n\n\u201cGive him my compliments,\u201d said Pepe gayly, no better way of getting rid\nof the Spartan legislator occurring to him.\n\n\u201cGood-by, then, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood-by.\u201d\n\nThe engineer had not yet taken his clothes out of the trunk when for the\nthird time the shrewd eyes and the crafty face of Uncle Licurgo appeared\nin the door-way.\n\n\u201cI beg your pardon, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9,\u201d he said, displaying his brilliantly\nwhite teeth in an affected smile, \u201cbut--I wanted to say that if you wish\nto settle the matter by means of friendly arbitrations---- Although, as\nthe saying is, \u2018Ask other people\u2019s opinion of something that concerns\nonly yourself, and some will say it is white and others black.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cWill you get away from here, man?\u201d\n\n\u201cI say that, because I hate the law. I don\u2019t want to have anything to\ndo with the law. Well, good-by, again, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9. God give you long\nlife to help the poor!\u201d\n\n\u201cGood-by, man, good-by.\u201d\n\nPepe turned the key in the lock of the door, saying to himself:\n\n\u201cThe people of this town appear to be very litigious.\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V\n\nWILL THERE BE DISSENSION?\n\nA little later Pepe made his appearance in the dining-room.\n\n\u201cIf you eat a hearty breakfast,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta to him, in\naffectionate accents, \u201cyou will have no appetite for dinner. We dine\nhere at one. Perhaps you may not like the customs of the country.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am enchanted with them, aunt.\u201d\n\n\u201cSay, then, which you prefer--to eat a hearty breakfast now, or to take\nsomething light, and keep your appetite for dinner.\u201d\n\n\u201cI prefer to take something light now, in order to have the pleasure\nof dining with you. But not even if I had found anything to eat in\nVillahorrenda, would I have eaten any thing at this early hour.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course, I need not tell you that you are to treat us with perfect\nfrankness. You may give your orders here as if you were in your own\nhouse.\u201d\n\n\u201cThanks, aunt.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut how like your father you are!\u201d said the se\u00f1ora, regarding the young\nman, as he ate, with real delight. \u201cI can fancy I am looking now at my\ndear brother Juan. He sat just as you are sitting and ate as you are\neating. In your expression, especially, you are as like as two drops of\nwater.\u201d\n\nPepe began his frugal breakfast. The words, as well as the manner\nand the expression, of his aunt and cousin inspired him with so much\nconfidence that he already felt as if he were in his own house.\n\n\u201cDo you know what Rosario was saying to me this morning?\u201d said Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta, looking at her nephew. \u201cWell, she was saying that, as a man\naccustomed to the luxuries and the etiquette of the capital and to\nforeign ways, you would not be able to put up with the somewhat rustic\nsimplicity and the lack of ceremony of our manner of life; for here\nevery thing is very plain.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a mistake!\u201d responded Pepe, looking at his cousin. \u201cNo one abhors\nmore than I do the falseness and the hypocrisy of what is called high\nsociety. Believe me, I have long wished to give myself a complete\nbath in nature, as some one has said; to live far from the turmoil\nof existence in the solitude and quiet of the country. I long for\nthe tranquillity of a life without strife, without anxieties; neither\nenvying nor envied, as the poet has said. For a long time my studies at\nfirst, and my work afterward, prevented me from taking the rest which\nI need, and which my mind and my body both require; but ever since I\nentered this house, my dear aunt, my dear cousin, I have felt myself\nsurrounded by the peaceful atmosphere which I have longed for. You must\nnot talk to me, then, of society, either high or low; or of the world,\neither great or small, for I would willingly exchange them all for this\npeaceful retreat.\u201d\n\nWhile he was thus speaking, the glass door which led from the\ndining-room into the garden was obscured by the interposition between\nit and the light of a dark body. The glasses of a pair of spectacles,\ncatching a sunbeam, sent forth a fugitive gleam; the latch creaked, the\ndoor opened, and the Penitentiary gravely entered the room. He saluted\nthose present, taking off his broad-brimmed hat and bowing until its\nbrim touched the floor.\n\n\u201cIt is the Se\u00f1or Penitentiary, of our holy cathedral,\u201d said Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta: \u201ca person whom we all esteem greatly, and whose friend you\nwill, I hope, be. Take a seat, Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio.\u201d\n\nPepe shook hands with the venerable canon, and both sat down.\n\n\u201cIf you are accustomed to smoke after meals, pray do so,\u201d said Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta amiably; \u201cand the Se\u00f1or Penitentiary also.\u201d\n\nThe worthy Don Inocencio drew from under his cassock a large leather\ncigar-case, which showed unmistakable signs of long use, opened it, and\ntook from it two long cigarettes, one of which he offered to our friend.\nRosario took a match from a little leaf-shaped matchbox, which the\nSpaniards ironically call a wagon, and the engineer and the canon were\nsoon puffing their smoke over each other.\n\n\u201cAnd what does Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9 think of our dear city of Orbajosa?\u201d asked\nthe canon, shutting his left eye tightly, according to his habit when he\nsmoked.\n\n\u201cI have not yet been able to form an idea of the town,\u201d said Pepe. \u201cFrom\nthe little I have seen of it, however, I think that half a dozen large\ncapitalists disposed to invest their money here, a pair of intelligent\nheads to direct the work of renovating the place, and a couple of\nthousands of active hands to carry it out, would not be a bad thing\nfor Orbajosa. Coming from the entrance to the town to the door of this\nhouse, I saw more than a hundred beggars. The greater part of them are\nhealthy, and even robust men. It is a pitiable army, the sight of which\noppresses the heart.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is what charity is for,\u201d declared Don Inocencio. \u201cApart from that,\nOrbajosa is not a poor town. You are already aware that the best garlic\nin all Spain is produced here. There are more than twenty rich families\nliving among us.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is true,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, \u201cthat the last few years have been\nwretched, owing to the drought; but even so, the granaries are not\nempty, and several thousands of strings of garlic were recently carried\nto market.\u201d\n\n\u201cDuring the many years that I have lived in Orbajosa,\u201d said the priest,\nwith a frown, \u201cI have seen innumerable persons come here from the\ncapital, some brought by the electoral hurly-burly, others to visit some\nabandoned site, or to see the antiquities of the cathedral, and they\nall talk to us about the English ploughs and threshing-machines and\nwater-power and banks, and I don\u2019t know how many other absurdities. The\nburden of their song is that this place is very backward, and that it\ncould be improved. Let them keep away from us, in the devil\u2019s name!\nWe are well enough as we are, without the gentlemen from the capital\nvisiting us; a great deal better off without hearing that continual\nclamor about our poverty and the grandeurs and the wonders of other\nplaces. The fool in his own house is wiser than the wise man in\nanother\u2019s. Is it not so, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9? Of course, you mustn\u2019t imagine,\neven remotely, that I say this on your account. Not at all! Of course\nnot! I know that we have before us one of the most eminent young men of\nmodern Spain, a man who would be able to transform into fertile lands\nour arid wastes. And I am not at all angry because you sing us the same\nold song about the English ploughs and arboriculture and silviculture.\nNot in the least. Men of such great, such very great merit, may be\nexcused for the contempt which they manifest for our littleness. No, no,\nmy friend; no, no, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9! you are entitled to say any thing you\nplease, even to tell us that we are not much better than Kaffirs.\u201d\n\nThis philippic, concluded in a marked tone of irony, and all of it\nimpertinent enough, did not please the young man; but he refrained from\nmanifesting the slightest annoyance and continued the conversation,\nendeavoring to avoid as far as possible the subjects in which the\nover-sensitive patriotism of the canon might find cause of offence. The\nlatter rose when Do\u00f1a Perfecta began to speak to her nephew about family\nmatters, and took a few turns about the room.\n\nThis was a spacious and well-lighted apartment, the walls of which were\ncovered with an old-fashioned paper whose flowers and branches, although\nfaded, preserved their original pattern, thanks to the cleanliness which\nreigned in each and every part of the dwelling. The clock, from the\ncase of which hung, uncovered, the apparently motionless weights and\nthe voluble pendulum, perpetually repeating No, no, occupied, with its\nvariegated dial, the most prominent place among the solid pieces of\nfurniture of the dining-room, the adornment of the walls being completed\nby a series of French engravings representing the exploits of the\nconqueror of Mexico, with prolix explanations at the foot of each\nconcerning a Ferdinand Cortez, and a Donna Marine, as little true to\nnature as were the figures delineated by the ignorant artist. In the\nspace between the two glass doors which communicated with the garden\nwas an apparatus of brass, which it is not necessary to describe further\nthan to say that it served to support a parrot, which maintained itself\non it with the air of gravity and circumspection peculiar to those\nanimals, taking note of everything that went on. The hard and ironical\nexpression of the parrot tribe, their green coats, their red caps,\ntheir yellow boots, and finally, the hoarse, mocking words which they\ngenerally utter, give them a strange and repulsive aspect, half serious,\nhalf-comic. There is in their air an indescribable something of the\nstiffness of diplomats. At times they remind one of buffoons, and they\nalways resemble those absurdly conceited people who, in their desire to\nappear very superior, look like caricatures.\n\nThe Penitentiary was very fond of the parrot. When he left Do\u00f1a Perfecta\nand Rosario conversing with the traveller, he went over to the bird,\nand, allowing it to bite his forefinger with the greatest good humor,\nsaid to it:\n\n\u201cRascal, knave, why don\u2019t you talk? You would be of little account if\nyou weren\u2019t a prater. The world of birds, as well as men, is full of\npraters.\u201d\n\nThen, with his own venerable hand, he took some peas from the dish\nbeside him, and gave them to the bird to eat. The parrot began to call\nto the maid, asking her for some chocolate, and its words diverted the\ntwo ladies and the young man from a conversation which could not have\nbeen very engrossing.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI\n\nIN WHICH IT IS SEEN THAT DISAGREEMENT MAY ARISE WHEN LEAST EXPECTED\n\nSuddenly Don Cayetano Polentinos, Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s brother-in-law,\nappeared at the door, and entering the room with outstretched arms,\ncried:\n\n\u201cLet me embrace you, my dear Don Jos\u00e9.\u201d\n\nThey embraced each other cordially. Don Cayetano and Pepe were already\nacquainted with each other, for the eminent scholar and bibliophile was\nin the habit of making a trip to Madrid whenever an executor\u2019s sale of\nthe stock of some dealer in old books was advertised. Don Cayetano was\ntall and thin, of middle age, although constant study or ill-health\nhad given him a worn appearance; he expressed himself with a refined\ncorrectness which became him admirably, and he was affectionate and\namiable in his manners, at times to excess. With respect to his vast\nlearning, what can be said but that he was a real prodigy? In Madrid his\nname was always mentioned with respect, and if Don Cayetano had lived\nin the capital, he could not have escaped becoming a member, in spite of\nhis modesty, of every academy in it, past, present, and to come. But he\nwas fond of quiet and retirement, and the place which vanity occupies\nin the souls of others, a pure passion for books, a love of solitary and\nsecluded study, without any other aim or incentive than the books and\nthe study themselves, occupied in his.\n\nHe had formed in Orbajosa one of the finest libraries that is to be\nfound in all Spain, and among his books he passed long hours of the day\nand of the night, compiling, classifying, taking notes, and selecting\nvarious sorts of precious information, or composing, perhaps, some\nhitherto unheard-of and undreamed-of work, worthy of so great a mind.\nHis habits were patriarchal; he ate little, drank less, and his only\ndissipations consisted of a luncheon in the Alamillos on very great\noccasions, and daily walks to a place called Mundogrande, where were\noften disinterred from the accumulated dust of twenty centuries, medals,\nbits of architecture, and occasionally an amphora or cubicularia of\ninestimable value.\n\nDon Cayetano and Do\u00f1a Perfecta lived in such perfect harmony that the\npeace of Paradise was not to be compared to it. They never disagreed. It\nis true that Don Cayetano never interfered in the affairs of the house\nnor Do\u00f1a Perfecta in those of the library, except to have it swept and\ndusted every Saturday, regarding with religious respect the books and\npapers that were in use on the table or anywhere else in the room.\n\nAfter the questions and answers proper to the occasion had been\ninterchanged Don Cayetano said:\n\n\u201cI have already looked at the books. I am very sorry that you did not\nbring me the edition of 1527. I shall have to make a journey to Madrid\nmyself. Are you going to remain with us long? The longer the better,\nmy dear Pepe. How glad I am to have you here! Between us both we will\narrange a part of my library and make an index of the writers on the Art\nof Horsemanship. It is not always one has at hand a man of your talents.\nYou shall see my library. You can take your fill of reading there--as\noften as you like. You will see marvels, real marvels, inestimable\ntreasures, rare works that no one but myself has a copy of. But I think\nit must be time for dinner, is it not, Jos\u00e9? Is it not, Perfecta? Is it\nnot, Rosarito? Is it not, Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio? To-day you are doubly a\nPenitentiary--I mean because you will accompany us in doing penance.\u201d\n\nThe canon bowed and smiled, manifesting his pleased acquiescence. The\ndinner was substantial, and in all the dishes there was noticeable the\nexcessive abundance of country banquets, realized at the expense of\nvariety. There was enough to surfeit twice as many persons as sat down\nto table. The conversation turned on various subjects.\n\n\u201cYou must visit our cathedral as soon as possible,\u201d said the canon.\n\u201cThere are few cathedrals like ours, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9! But of course you,\nwho have seen so many wonders in foreign countries, will find nothing\nremarkable in our old church. We poor provincials of Orbajosa, however,\nthink it divine. Master Lopez of Berganza, one of the prebendaries\nof the cathedral, called it in the sixteenth century _pulchra\naugustissima_. But perhaps for a man of your learning it would\npossess no merit, and some market constructed of iron would seem more\nbeautiful.\u201d\n\nThe ironical remarks of the wily canon annoyed Pepe Rey more and more\nevery moment, but, determined to control himself and to conceal his\nanger, he answered only with vague words. Do\u00f1a Perfecta then took up the\ntheme and said playfully:\n\n\u201cTake care, Pepito; I warn you that if you speak ill of our holy church\nwe shall cease to be friends. You know a great deal, you are a man\neminent for your knowledge on every subject, but if you are going to\ndiscover that that grand edifice is not the eighth wonder of the world\nyou will do well to keep your knowledge to yourself and leave us in our\nignorance.\u201d\n\n\u201cFar from thinking that the building is not handsome,\u201d responded Pepe,\n\u201cthe little I have seen of its exterior has seemed to me of imposing\nbeauty. So there is no need for you to be alarmed, aunt. And I am very\nfar from being a savant.\u201d\n\n\u201cSoftly; softly,\u201d said the canon, extending his hand and giving his\nmouth a truce from eating in order to talk. \u201cStop there--don\u2019t come now\npretending modesty, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9; we are too well aware of your great\nmerit, of the high reputation you enjoy and the important part you play\nwherever you are, for that. Men like you are not to be met with every\nday. But now that I have extolled your merits in this way----\u201d\n\nHe stopped to eat a mouthful, and when his tongue was once more at\nliberty he continued thus:\n\n\u201cNow that I have extolled your merits in this way, permit me to express\na different opinion with the frankness which belongs to my character.\nYes, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9, yes, Se\u00f1or Don Cayetano; yes, se\u00f1ora and se\u00f1orita,\nscience, as the moderns study and propagate it, is the death of\nsentiment and of every sweet illusion. Under its influence the life of\nthe spirit declines, every thing is reduced to fixed rules, and even the\nsublime charms of nature disappear. Science destroys the marvellous in\nthe arts, as well as faith in the soul. Science says that every thing\nis a lie, and would reduce every thing to figures and lines, not only\n_maria ac terras_, where we are, but _coelumque profundum_, where God\nis. The wonderful visions of the soul, its mystic raptures, even the\ninspiration of the poets, are all a lie. The heart is a sponge; the\nbrain, a place for breeding maggots.\u201d\n\nEvery one laughed, while the canon took a draught of wine.\n\n\u201cCome, now, will Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9 deny,\u201d continued the ecclesiastic, \u201cthat\nscience, as it is taught and propagated to-day, is fast making of the\nworld and of the human race a great machine?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat depends,\u201d said Don Cayetano. \u201cEvery thing has its _pro_ and its\n_contra_.\u201d\n\n\u201cTake some more salad, Se\u00f1or Penitentiary,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta; \u201cit is\njust as you like it--with a good deal of mustard.\u201d\n\nPepe Rey was not fond of engaging in useless discussions; he was not a\npedant, nor did he desire to make a display of his learning, and still\nless did he wish to do so in the presence of women, and in a private\nre-union; but the importunate and aggressive verbosity of the canon\nrequired, in his opinion, a corrective. To flatter his vanity by\nagreeing with his views would, he thought, be a bad way to give it to\nhim, and he determined therefore to express only such opinions as should\nbe most directly opposed to those of the sarcastic Penitentiary and most\noffensive to him.\n\n\u201cSo you wish to amuse yourself at my expense,\u201d he said to himself.\n\u201cWait, and you will see what a fine dance I will lead you.\u201d\n\nThen he said aloud:\n\n\u201cAll that the Se\u00f1or Penitentiary has said ironically is the truth. But\nit is not our fault if science overturns day after day the vain idols\nof the past: its superstitions, its sophisms, its innumerable\nfables--beautiful, some of them, ridiculous others--for in the vineyard\nof the Lord grow both good fruit and bad. The world of illusions, which\nis, as we might say, a second world, is tumbling about us in ruins.\nMysticism in religion, routine in science, mannerism in art, are\nfalling, as the Pagan gods fell, amid jests. Farewell, foolish dreams!\nthe human race is awakening and its eyes behold the light. Its vain\nsentimentalism, its mysticism, its fevers, its hallucination, its\ndelirium are passing away, and he who was before sick is now well\nand takes an ineffable delight in the just appreciation of things.\nImagination, the terrible madwoman, who was the mistress of the house,\nhas become the servant. Look around you, Se\u00f1or Penitentiary, and you\nwill see the admirable aggregation of truths which has taken the place\nof fable. The sky is not a vault; the stars are not little lamps; the\nmoon is not a sportive huntress, but an opaque mass of stone; the sun is\nnot a gayly adorned and vagabond charioteer but a fixed fire; Scylla and\nCharybdis are not nymphs but sunken rocks; the sirens are seals; and in\nthe order of personages, Mercury is Manzanedo; Mars is a clean-shaven\nold man, the Count von Moltke; Nestor may be a gentleman in an overcoat,\nwho is called M. Thiers; Orpheus is Verdi; Vulcan is Krupp; Apollo is\nany poet. Do you wish more? Well, then, Jupiter, a god who, if he\nwere living now, would deserve to be put in jail, does not launch the\nthunderbolt, but the thunderbolt falls when electricity wills it. There\nis no Parnassus; there is no Olympus; there is no Stygian lake; nor are\nthere any other Elysian Fields than those of Paris. There is no other\ndescent to hell than the descents of Geology, and this traveller, every\ntime he returns from it, declares that there are no damned souls in the\ncentre of the earth. There are no other ascents to heaven than those of\nAstronomy, and she, on her return, declares that she has not seen the\nsix or seven circles of which Dante and the mystical dreamers of the\nMiddle Ages speak. She finds only stars and distances, lines, vast\nspaces, and nothing more. There are now no false computations of the age\nof the earth, for paleontology and prehistoric research have counted the\nteeth of this skull in which we live and discovered the true age. Fable,\nwhether it be called paganism or Christian idealism, exists no longer,\nand imagination plays only a secondary part. All the miracles possible\nare such as I work, whenever I desire to do so, in my laboratory, with\nmy Bunsen pile, a conducting wire, and a magnetized needle. There are\nnow no other multiplications of loaves and fishes than those which\nIndustry makes, with her moulds and her machines, and those of the\nprinting press, which imitates Nature, taking from a single type\nmillions of copies. In short, my dear canon, orders have been given to\nput on the retired list all the absurdities, lies, illusions, dreams,\nsentimentalities, and prejudices which darken the understanding of man.\nLet us rejoice at the fact.\u201d\n\nWhen Pepe finished speaking, a furtive smile played upon the canon\u2019s\nlips and his eyes were extraordinarily animated. Don Cayetano busied\nhimself in giving various forms--now rhomboidal, now prismatic--to a\nlittle ball of bread. But Do\u00f1a Perfecta was pale and kept her eyes fixed\non the canon with observant insistence. Rosarito looked with amazement\nat her cousin. The latter, bending toward her, whispered under his\nbreath:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t mind me, little cousin; I am talking all this nonsense only to\nenrage the canon.\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII\n\nTHE DISAGREEMENT INCREASES\n\n\u201cPerhaps you think,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, with a tinge of conceit in her\ntones, \u201cthat Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio is going to remain silent and not give\nyou an answer to each and every one of those points.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, no!\u201d exclaimed the canon, arching his eyebrows. \u201cI will not attempt\nto measure my poor abilities with a champion so valiant and at the same\ntime so well armed. Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9 knows every thing; that is to say, he\nhas at his command the whole arsenal of the exact sciences. Of course\nI know that the doctrines he upholds are false; but I have neither the\ntalent nor the eloquence to combat them. I would employ theological\narguments, drawn from revelation, from faith, from the Divine Word; but\nalas! Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9, who is an eminent savant, would laugh at theology,\nat faith, at revelation, at the holy prophets, at the gospel. A poor\nignorant priest, an unhappy man who knows neither mathematics, nor\nGerman philosophy with its _ego_ and its _non ego_, a poor dominie, who\nknows only the science of God and something of the Latin poets, cannot\nenter into combat with so valiant a champion.\u201d\n\nPepe Rey burst into a frank laugh.\n\n\u201cI see that Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio,\u201d he said, \u201chas taken seriously all the\nnonsense I have been talking. Come, Se\u00f1or Canon, regard the whole matter\nas a jest, and let it end there. I am quite sure that my opinions do not\nin reality differ greatly from yours. You are a pious and learned man;\nit is I who am ignorant. If I have allowed myself to speak in jest,\npardon me, all of you--that is my way.\u201d\n\n\u201cThanks!\u201d responded the presbyter, visibly annoyed. \u201cIs that the way you\nwant to get out of it now? I am well aware, we are all well aware, that\nthe views you have sustained are your own. It could not be otherwise.\nYou are the man of the age. It cannot be denied that you have a\nwonderful, a truly wonderful intellect. While you were talking, at the\nsame time that I inwardly deplored errors so great, I could not but\nadmire, I will confess it frankly, the loftiness of expression, the\nprodigious fluency, the surprising method of your reasoning, the force\nof your arguments. What a head, Se\u00f1ora Do\u00f1a Perfecta, what a head your\nyoung nephew has! When I was in Madrid and they took me to the Atheneum,\nI confess that I was amazed to see the wonderful talent which God has\nbestowed on the atheists and the Protestants.\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Don Inocencio,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, looking alternately at her\nnephew and her friend, \u201cI think that in judging this boy you are more\nthan benevolent. Don\u2019t get angry, Pepe, or mind what I say, for I am\nneither a savante, nor a philosopher, nor a theologian; but it seems to\nme that Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio has just given a proof of his great modesty\nand Christian charity in not crushing you as he could have done if he\nhad wished.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, se\u00f1ora!\u201d said the ecclesiastic.\n\n\u201cThat is the way with him,\u201d continued Do\u00f1a Perfecta, \u201calways pretending\nto know nothing. And he knows more than the seven doctors put together.\nAh, Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio, how well the name you have suits you! But don\u2019t\naffect an unseasonable humility now. Why, my nephew has no pretensions.\nAll he knows is what he has been taught. If he has been taught error,\nwhat more can he desire than that you should enlighten him and take him\nout of the limbo of his false doctrines?\u201d\n\n\u201cJust so; I desire nothing more than that the Se\u00f1or Penitentiary should\ntake me out,\u201d--murmured Pepe, comprehending that without intending it,\nhe had got himself into a labyrinth.\n\n\u201cI am a poor priest, whose only learning is some knowledge of the\nancients,\u201d responded Don Inocencio. \u201cI recognize the immense value, from\na worldly point of view, of Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9\u2019s scientific knowledge, and\nbefore so brilliant an oracle I prostrate myself and am silent.\u201d\n\nSo saying, the canon folded his hands across his breast and bent his\nhead. Pepe Rey was somewhat disturbed because of the turn which his mind\nhad chosen to give to an idle discussion jestingly followed up, and\nin which he had engaged only to enliven the conversation a little. He\nthought that the most prudent course to pursue would be to end at once\nso dangerous a debate, and for this purpose he addressed a question to\nSe\u00f1or Don Cayetano when the latter, shaking off the drowsiness which\nhad overcome him after the dessert, offered the guests the indispensable\ntoothpicks stuck in a china peacock with outspread tail.\n\n\u201cYesterday I discovered a hand grasping the handle of an amphora, on\nwhich there are a number of hieratic characters. I will show it to you,\u201d\n said Don Cayetano, delighted to introduce a favorite theme.\n\n\u201cI suppose that Se\u00f1or de Rey is very expert in archaeological matters\nalso,\u201d said the canon, who, still implacable, pursued his victim to his\nlast retreat.\n\n\u201cOf course,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cWhat is there that these clever\nchildren of our day do not understand? They have all the sciences at\ntheir fingers\u2019 ends. The universities and the academics teach them every\nthing in a twinkling, giving them a patent of learning.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, that is unjust!\u201d responded the canon, observing the pained\nexpression of the engineer\u2019s countenance.\n\n\u201cMy aunt is right,\u201d declared Pepe. \u201cAt the present day we learn a little\nof every thing, and leave school with the rudiments of various studies.\u201d\n\n\u201cI was saying,\u201d continued the canon, \u201cthat you are no doubt a great\narchaeologist.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know absolutely nothing of that science,\u201d responded the young man.\n\u201cRuins are ruins, and I have never cared to cover myself with dust going\namong them.\u201d\n\nDon Cayetano made an expressive grimace.\n\n\u201cThat is not to say that I condemn archaeology,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s\nnephew quickly, observing with pain that he could not utter a word\nwithout wounding some one. \u201cI know that from that dust issues history.\nThose studies are delightful and very useful.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou,\u201d said the Penitentiary, putting his toothpick into the last of\nhis back teeth, \u201care no doubt more inclined to controversial studies. An\nexcellent idea has just occurred to me, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9; you ought to be\na lawyer.\u201d\n\n\u201cLaw is a profession which I abhor,\u201d replied Pepe Rey. \u201cI know many\nestimable lawyers, among them my father, who is the best of men; but,\nin spite of so favorable a specimen, I could never had brought myself to\npractise a profession which consists in defending with equal readiness\nthe _pro_ and the _contra_ of a question. I know of no greater\nmisjudgment, no greater prejudice, no greater blindness, than parents\nshow in their eagerness to dedicate their sons to the law. The chief and\nthe most terrible plague of Spain is the crowd of our young lawyers, for\nwhose existence a fabulous number of lawsuits are necessary. Lawsuits\nmultiply in proportion to the demand. And even thus, numbers are left\nwithout employment, and, as a jurisconsult cannot put his hand to\nthe plough or seat himself at the loom, the result is that brilliant\nsquadron of idlers full of pretensions, who clamor for places, embarrass\nthe administration, agitate public opinion, and breed revolutions. In\nsome way they must make a living. It would be a greater misfortune if\nthere were lawsuits enough for all of them.\u201d\n\n\u201cPepe, for Heaven\u2019s sake, take care what you say,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta,\nin a tone of marked severity. \u201cBut excuse him, Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio, for\nhe is not aware that you have a nephew who, although he has only lately\nleft the university, is a prodigy in the law.\u201d\n\n\u201cI speak in general terms,\u201d said Pepe, with firmness. \u201cBeing, as I am,\nthe son of a distinguished lawyer, I cannot be ignorant of the fact\nthat there are many men who practise that noble profession with honor to\nthemselves.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; my nephew is only a boy yet,\u201d said the canon, with affected\nhumility. \u201cFar be it from me to assert that he is a prodigy of learning,\nlike Se\u00f1or de Rey. In time, who can tell? His talents are neither\nbrilliant nor seductive. Of course, Jacinto\u2019s ideas are solid and his\njudgment is sound. What he knows he knows thoroughly. He is unacquainted\nwith sophistries and hollow phrases.\u201d\n\nPepe Rey appeared every moment more and more disturbed. The idea that,\nwithout desiring it, his opinions should be in opposition to those of\nthe friends of his aunt, vexed him, and he resolved to remain silent\nlest he and Don Inocencio should end by throwing the plates at each\nother\u2019s heads. Fortunately the cathedral bell, calling the canon to the\nimportant duties of the choir, extricated him from his painful position.\nThe venerable ecclesiastic rose and took leave of every one, treating\nRey with as much amiability and kindness as if they had been old and\ndear friends. The canon, after offering his services to Pepe for all\nthat he might require, promised to present his nephew to him in order\nthat the young man might accompany him to see the town, speaking in the\nmost affectionate terms and deigning, on leaving the room, to pat him\non the shoulder. Pepe Rey, accepting with pleasure these formulas of\nconcord, nevertheless felt indescribably relieved when the priest had\nleft the dining-room and the house.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII\n\nIN ALL HASTE\n\nA little later the scene had changed. Don Cayetano, finding rest from\nhis sublime labors in a gentle slumber that had overcome him after\ndinner, reclined comfortably in an arm-chair in the dining-room.\nRosarito, seated at one of the windows that opened into the garden,\nglanced at her cousin, saying to him with the mute eloquence of her\neyes:\n\n\u201cCousin, sit down here beside me and tell me every thing you have to say\nto me.\u201d\n\nHer cousin, mathematician though he was, understood.\n\n\u201cMy dear cousin,\u201d said Pepe, \u201chow you must have been bored this\nafternoon by our disputes! Heaven knows that for my own pleasure I would\nnot have played the pedant as I did; the canon was to blame for it. Do\nyou know that that priest appears to me to be a singular character?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is an excellent person!\u201d responded Rosarito, showing the delight she\nfelt at being able to give her cousin all the data and the information\nthat he might require.\n\n\u201cOh, yes! An excellent person. That is very evident!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen you know him a little better, you will see that.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat he is beyond all price! But it is enough for him to be your friend\nand your mamma\u2019s to be my friend also,\u201d declared the young man. \u201cAnd\ndoes he come here often?\u201d\n\n\u201cEvery day. He spends a great deal of his time with us,\u201d responded\nRosarito ingenuously. \u201cHow good and kind he is! And how fond he is of\nme!\u201d\n\n\u201cCome! I begin to like this gentleman.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe comes in the evening, besides, to play tresillo,\u201d continued the\nyoung girl; \u201cfor every night some friends meet here--the judge of the\nlower court, the attorney-general, the dean, the bishop\u2019s secretary, the\nalcalde, the collector of taxes, Don Inocencio\u2019s nephew----\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! Jacintito, the lawyer.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; he is a simple-hearted boy, as good as gold. His uncle adores him.\nSince he returned from the university with his doctor\u2019s tassel--for he\nis a doctor in two sciences, and he took honors besides--what do you\nthink of that?--well, as I was saying, since his return, he has come\nhere very often with his uncle. Mamma too is very fond of him. He is a\nvery sensible boy. He goes home early with his uncle; he never goes at\nnight to the Casino, nor plays nor squanders money, and he is employed\nin the office of Don Lorenzo Ruiz, who is the best lawyer in Orbajosa.\nThey say Jacinto will be a great lawyer, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cHis uncle did not exaggerate when he praised him, then,\u201d said Pepe. \u201cI\nam very sorry that I talked all that nonsense I did about lawyers. I was\nvery perverse, was I not, my dear cousin?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot at all; for my part, I think you were quite right.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, really, was I not a little--\u201d\n\n\u201cNot in the least, not in the least!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a weight you have taken off my mind! The truth is that I found\nmyself constantly, and without knowing why, in distressing opposition to\nthat venerable priest. I am very sorry for it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat I think,\u201d said Rosarito, looking at him with eyes full of\naffection, \u201cis that you will not find yourself at home among us.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat do you mean by that?\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know whether I can make myself quite clear, cousin. I mean that\nit will not be easy for you to accustom yourself to the society and the\nideas of the people of Orbajosa. I imagine so--it is a supposition.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, no! I think you are mistaken.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou come from a different place, from another world, where the people\nare very clever, and very learned, and have refined manners, and a witty\nway of talking, and an air--perhaps I am not making myself clear. I mean\nthat you are accustomed to live among people of refinement; you know\na great deal. Here there is not what you need; here the people are not\nlearned or very polished. Every thing is plain, Pepe. I imagine you will\nbe bored, terribly bored, and that in the end you will have to go away.\u201d\n\nThe expression of sadness which was natural in Rosarito\u2019s countenance\nhere became so profound that Pepe Rey was deeply moved.\n\n\u201cYou are mistaken, my dear cousin. I did not come here with the ideas\nyou fancy, nor is there between my character and my opinions and the\ncharacter and opinions of the people here the want of harmony you\nimagine. But let us suppose for a moment that there were.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us suppose it.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn that case I have the firm conviction that between you and me,\nbetween us two, dear Rosarito, perfect harmony would still exist.\nOn this point I cannot be mistaken. My heart tells me that I am not\nmistaken.\u201d\n\nRosarito blushed deeply, but making an effort to conceal her\nembarrassment under smiles and fugitive glances, she said:\n\n\u201cCome, now, no pretences. But if you mean that I shall always approve of\nwhat you say, you are right.\u201d\n\n\u201cRosario,\u201d exclaimed the young man, \u201cthe moment I saw you my soul was\nfilled with gladness; I felt at the same time a regret that I had not\ncome before to Orbajosa.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, that I am not going to believe,\u201d she said, affecting gayety\nto conceal her emotion. \u201cSo soon? Don\u2019t begin to make protestations\nalready. See, Pepe, I am only a country girl, I can talk only about\ncommon things; I don\u2019t know French; I don\u2019t dress with elegance; all I\nknow is how to play the piano; I----\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, Rosario!\u201d cried the young man, with ardor; \u201cI believed you to be\nperfect before; now I am sure you are so.\u201d\n\nHer mother at this moment entered the room. Rosarito, who did not\nknow what to say in answer to her cousin\u2019s last words, was conscious,\nhowever, of the necessity of saying something, and, looking at her\nmother, she cried:\n\n\u201cAh! I forgot to give the parrot his dinner.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t mind that now. But why do you stay in here? Take your cousin for\na walk in the garden.\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta smiled with maternal kindness at her nephew, as she\npointed toward the leafy avenue which was visible through the glass\ndoor.\n\n\u201cLet us go there,\u201d said Pepe, rising.\n\nRosarito darted, like a bird released from its cage, toward the glass\ndoor.\n\n\u201cPepe, who knows so much and who must understand all about trees,\u201d said\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta, \u201cwill teach you how to graft. Let us see what he thinks\nof those young pear-trees that they are going to transplant.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, come!\u201d called Rosarito to her cousin impatiently from the garden.\n\nBoth disappeared among the foliage. Do\u00f1a Perfecta watched them until\nthey were out of sight and then busied herself with the parrot. As she\nchanged its food she said to herself with a contemplative air:\n\n\u201cHow different he is! He has not even given a caress to the poor bird.\u201d\n\nThen, thinking it possible that she had been overheard by her\nbrother-in-law, she said aloud:\n\n\u201cCayetano, what do you think of my nephew? Cayetano!\u201d\n\nA low grunt gave evidence that the antiquary was returning to the\nconsciousness of this miserable world.\n\n\u201cCayetano!\u201d\n\n\u201cJust so, just so!\u201d murmured the scientist in a sleepy voice. \u201cThat\nyoung gentleman will maintain, as every one does, that the statues\nof Mundogrande belong to the first Phoenician immigration. But I will\nconvince him--\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Cayetano!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, Perfecta! There! Now you will insist upon it again that I have\nbeen asleep.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, indeed; how could I insist upon any thing so absurd! But you\nhaven\u2019t told me what you think about that young man.\u201d\n\nDon Cayetano placed the palm of his hand before his mouth to conceal a\nyawn; then he and Do\u00f1a Perfecta entered upon a long conversation. Those\nwho have transmitted to us the necessary data for a compilation of\nthis history omit this dialogue, no doubt because it was entirely\nconfidential. As for what the engineer and Rosarito said in the garden\nthat afternoon, it is evident that it was not worthy of mention.\n\nOn the afternoon of the following day, however, events took place which,\nbeing of the gravest importance, ought not to be passed over in silence.\nLate in the afternoon the two cousins found themselves alone, after\nrambling through different parts of the garden in friendly companionship\nand having eyes and ears only for each other.\n\n\u201cPepe,\u201d Rosario was saying, \u201call that you have been telling me is pure\nfancy, one of those stories that you clever men know so well how to put\ntogether. You think that because I am a country girl I believe every\nthing I am told.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you understood me as well as I think I understand you, you would\nknow that I never say any thing I do not mean. But let us have done\nwith foolish subtleties and lovers\u2019 sophistries, that lead only to\nmisunderstandings. I will speak to you only in the language of truth.\nAre you by chance a young lady whose acquaintance I have made on the\npromenade or at a party, and with whom I propose to spend a pleasant\nhour or two? No, you are my cousin. You are something more. Rosario,\nlet us at once put things on their proper footing. Let us drop\ncircumlocutions. I have come here to marry you.\u201d\n\nRosario felt her face burning, and her heart was beating violently.\n\n\u201cSee, my dear cousin,\u201d continued the young man. \u201cI swear to you that\nif you had not pleased me I should be already far away from this place.\nAlthough politeness and delicacy would have obliged me to make an effort\nto conceal my disappointment, I should have found it hard to do so. That\nis my character.\u201d\n\n\u201cCousin, you have only just arrived,\u201d said Rosarito laconically, trying\nto laugh.\n\n\u201cI have only just arrived, and I already know all that I wanted to know;\nI know that I love you; that you are the woman whom my heart has long\nbeen announcing to me, saying to me night and day, \u2018Now she is coming,\nnow she is near; now you are burning.\u2019\u201d\n\nThese words served Rosario as an excuse for breaking into the laugh\nthat had been dimpling her lips. Her soul swelled with happiness; she\nbreathed an atmosphere of joy.\n\n\u201cYou persist in depreciating yourself,\u201d continued Pepe, \u201cbut for me you\npossess every perfection. You have the admirable quality of radiating\non all around you the divine light of your soul. The moment one sees you\none feels instinctively the nobility of your mind and the purity of\nyour heart. To see you is to see a celestial being who, through the\nforgetfulness of Heaven, remains upon the earth; you are an angel, and I\nadore you.\u201d\n\nWhen he had said this it seemed as if he had fulfilled an important\nmission. Rosarito, overcome by the violence of her emotion, felt her\nscant strength suddenly fail her; and, half-fainting, she sank on a\nstone that in those pleasant solitudes served as a seat. Pepe bent over\nher. Her eyes were closed, her forehead rested on the palm of her hand.\nA few moments later the daughter of Do\u00f1a Perfecta Polentinos gave her\ncousin, amid happy tears, a tender glance followed by these words:\n\n\u201cI loved you before I had ever seen you.\u201d\n\nPlacing her hands in those of the young man she rose to her feet, and\ntheir forms disappeared among the leafy branches of an oleander walk.\nNight was falling and soft shadows enveloped the lower end of the\ngarden, while the last rays of the setting sun crowned the tree-tops\nwith fleeting splendors. The noisy republic of the birds kept up a\ndeafening clamor in the upper branches. It was the hour in which, after\nflitting about in the joyous regions of the sky, they were all going\nto rest, and they were disputing with one another the branches they\nhad selected for sleeping-places. Their chatter at times had a sound\nof recrimination and controversy, at times of mockery and merriment. In\ntheir voluble twitter the little rascals said the most insulting things\nto each other, pecking at each other and flapping their wings, as\norators wave their arms when they want to make their hearers believe\nthe lies they are telling them. But words of love were to be heard there\ntoo, for the peace of the hour and the beauty of the spot invited to it.\nA sharp ear might have distinguished the following:\n\n\u201cI loved you before I had even seen you, and if you had not come I\nshould have died of grief. Mamma used to give me your father\u2019s letters\nto read, and he praised you so much in them that I used to say, \u2018That\nis the man who ought to be my husband.\u2019 For a long time your father said\nnothing about our marrying, which seemed to me great negligence. Uncle\nCayetano, whenever he spoke of you, would say, \u2018There are not many men\nlike him in the world. The woman who gets him for a husband may think\nherself fortunate.\u2019 At last your father said what he could not avoid\nsaying. Yes, he could not avoid saying it--I was expecting it every\nday.\u201d\n\nShortly after these words the same voice added uneasily: \u201cSome one is\nfollowing us.\u201d\n\nEmerging from among the oleanders, Pepe, turning round, saw two men\napproaching them, and touching the leaves of a young tree near by, he\nsaid aloud to his companion:\n\n\u201cIt is not proper to prune young trees like this for the first time\nuntil they have taken firm root. Trees recently planted have not\nsufficient strength to bear the operation. You know that the roots can\ngrow only by means of the leaves, so that if you take the leaves from a\ntree--\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9,\u201d cried the Penitentiary, with a frank laugh,\napproaching the two young people and bowing to them, \u201care you giving\nlessons in horticulture? _Insere nunc Meliboee piros; pone ordine\nvites_, as the great singer of the labors of the field said. \u2018Graft the\npear-tree, dear Meliboeus, trim the vines.\u2019 And how are we now, Se\u00f1or\nDon Jos\u00e9?\u201d\n\nThe engineer and the canon shook hands. Then the latter turned round,\nand indicating by a gesture a young man who was behind him, said,\nsmiling:\n\n\u201cI have the pleasure of presenting to you my dear Jacintillo--a great\nrogue, a feather-head, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9.\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX\n\nTHE DISAGREEMENT CONTINUES TO INCREASE, AND THEREAFTER TO BECOME DISCORD\n\nClose beside the black cassock was a fresh and rosy face, that seemed\nfresher and rosier from the contrast. Jacinto saluted our hero, not\nwithout some embarrassment.\n\nHe was one of those precocious youths whom the indulgent university\nsends prematurely forth into the arena of life, making them fancy that\nthey are men because they have received their doctor\u2019s degree. Jacinto\nhad a round, handsome face with rosy cheeks, like a girl\u2019s, and without\nany beard save the down which announced its coming. In person he was\nplump and below the medium height. His age was a little over twenty. He\nhad been educated from childhood under the direction of his excellent\nand learned uncle, which is the same as saying that the twig had not\nbecome crooked in the growing. A severe moral training had kept him\nalways straight, and in the fulfilment of his scholastic duties he\nhad been almost above reproach. Having concluded his studies at the\nuniversity with astonishing success, for there was scarcely a class in\nwhich he did not take the highest honors, he entered on the practice of\nhis profession, promising, by his application and his aptitude for\nthe law, to maintain fresh and green in the forum the laurels of the\nlecture-hall.\n\nAt times he was as mischievous as a boy, at times as sedate as a man.\nIn very truth, if Jacinto had not had a little, and even a great deal of\nliking for pretty girls, his uncle would have thought him perfect. The\nworthy man preached to him unceasingly on this point, hastening to\nclip the wings of every audacious fancy. But not even this mundane\ninclination of the young man could cool the great affection which\nour worthy canon bore the charming offspring of his dear niece, Maria\nRemedios. Where the young lawyer was concerned, every thing else\nmust give way. Even the grave and methodical habits of the worthy\necclesiastic were altered when they interfered with the affairs of his\nprecocious pupil. That order and regularity, apparently as fixed as the\nlaws of a planetary system, were interrupted whenever Jacinto was ill\nor had to take a journey. Useless celibacy of the clergy! The Council of\nTrent prohibits them from having children of their own, but God--and not\nthe Devil, as the proverb says--gives them nephews and nieces in order\nthat they may know the tender anxieties of paternity.\n\nExamining impartially the qualities of this clever boy, it was\nimpossible not to recognize that he was not wanting in merit. His\ncharacter was in the main inclined to uprightness, and noble\nactions awakened a frank admiration in his soul. With respect to his\nintellectual endowments and his social knowledge, they were sufficient\nto enable him to become in time one of those notabilities of whom\nthere are so many in Spain; he might be what we take delight in calling\nhyperbolically a distinguished patrician, or an eminent public man;\nspecies which, owing to their great abundance, are hardly appreciated\nat their just value. In the tender age in which the university degree\nserves as a sort of solder between boyhood and manhood, few young\nmen--especially if they have been spoiled by their masters--are free\nfrom an offensive pedantry, which, if it gives them great importance\nbeside their mamma\u2019s arm-chair, makes them very ridiculous when they\nare among grave and experienced men. Jacinto had this defect, which was\nexcusable in him, not only because of his youth, but also because his\nworthy uncle stimulated his puerile vanity by injudicious praise.\n\nWhen the introduction was over they resumed their walk. Jacinto was\nsilent. The canon, returning to the interrupted theme of the _pyros_\nwhich were to be grafted and the _vites_ which were to be trimmed, said:\n\n\u201cI am already aware that Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9 is a great agriculturist.\u201d\n\n\u201cNot at all; I know nothing whatever about the subject,\u201d responded\nthe young man, observing with no little annoyance the canon\u2019s mania of\nsupposing him to be learned in all the sciences.\n\n\u201cOh, yes! a great agriculturist,\u201d continued the Penitentiary; \u201cbut on\nagricultural subjects, don\u2019t quote the latest treatises to me. For me\nthe whole of that science, Se\u00f1or de Rey, is condensed in what I call the\nBible of the Field, in the \u2018Georgics\u2019 of the immortal Roman. It is all\nadmirable, from that grand sentence, _Nec vero terroe ferre omnes omnia\npossunt_--that is to say, that not every soil is suited to every tree,\nSe\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9--to the exhaustive treatise on bees, in which the poet\ndescribes the habits of those wise little animals, defining the drone in\nthese words:\n\n     \u201c\u2018Ille horridus alter\n     Desidia, latamque trahens inglorius alvum.\u2019\n\n\u201c\u2018Of a horrible and slothful figure, dragging along the ignoble weight of\nthe belly,\u2019 Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou do well to translate it for me,\u201d said Pepe, \u201cfor I know very little\nLatin.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, why should the men of the present day spend their time in studying\nthings that are out of date?\u201d said the canon ironically. \u201cBesides,\nonly poor creatures like Virgil and Cicero and Livy wrote in Latin. I,\nhowever, am of a different way of thinking; as witness my nephew, to\nwhom I have taught that sublime language. The rascal knows it better\nthan I do. The worst of it is, that with his modern reading he is\nforgetting it; and some fine day, without ever having suspected it, he\nwill find out that he is an ignoramus. For, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9, my nephew\nhas taken to studying the newest books and the most extravagant\ntheories, and it is Flammarion here and Flammarion there, and nothing\nwill do him but that the stars are full of people. Come, I fancy that\nyou two are going to be very good friends. Jacinto, beg this gentleman\nto teach you the higher mathematics, to instruct you concerning the\nGerman philosophers, and then you will be a man.\u201d\n\nThe worthy ecclesiastic laughed at his own wit, while Jacinto, delighted\nto see the conversation turn on a theme so greatly to his taste, after\nexcusing himself to Pepe Rey, suddenly hurled this question at him:\n\n\u201cTell me, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9, what do you think of Darwinism?\u201d\n\nOur hero smiled at this inopportune pedantry, and he felt almost tempted\nto encourage the young man to continue in this path of childish vanity;\nbut, judging it more prudent to avoid intimacy, either with the nephew\nor the uncle, he answered simply:\n\n\u201cI can think nothing at all about the doctrines of Darwin, for I know\nscarcely any thing about him. My professional labors have not permitted\nme to devote much of my time to those studies.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell,\u201d said the canon, laughing, \u201cit all reduces itself to this, that\nwe are descended from monkeys. If he had said that only in the case of\ncertain people I know, he would have been right.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe theory of natural selection,\u201d said Jacinto emphatically, \u201chas, they\nsay, a great many partisans in Germany.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not doubt it,\u201d said the ecclesiastic. \u201cIn Germany they would have\nno reason to be sorry if that theory were true, as far as Bismarck is\nconcerned.\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta and Se\u00f1or Don Cayetano at this moment made their\nappearance.\n\n\u201cWhat a beautiful evening!\u201d said the former. \u201cWell, nephew, are you\ngetting terribly bored?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not bored in the least,\u201d responded the young man.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t try to deny it. Cayetano and I were speaking of that as we came\nalong. You are bored, and you are trying to hide it. It is not every\nyoung man of the present day who would have the self-denial to spend\nhis youth, like Jacinto, in a town where there are neither theatres,\nnor opera bouffe, nor dancers, nor philosophers, nor athenaeums,\nnor magazines, nor congresses, nor any other kind of diversions or\nentertainments.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am quite contented here,\u201d responded Pepe. \u201cI was just now saying to\nRosario that I find this city and this house so pleasant that I would\nlike to live and die here.\u201d\n\nRosario turned very red and the others were silent. They all sat down\nin a summer-house, Jacinto hastening to take the seat on the left of the\nyoung girl.\n\n\u201cSee here, nephew, I have a piece of advice to give you,\u201d said Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta, smiling with that expression of kindness that seemed to\nemanate from her soul, like the aroma from the flower. \u201cBut don\u2019t\nimagine that I am either reproving you or giving you a lesson--you are\nnot a child, and you will easily understand what I mean.\u201d\n\n\u201cScold me, dear aunt, for no doubt I deserve it,\u201d replied Pepe, who was\nbeginning to accustom himself to the kindnesses of his father\u2019s sister.\n\n\u201cNo, it is only a piece of advice. These gentlemen, I am sure, will\nagree that I am in the right.\u201d\n\nRosario was listening with her whole soul.\n\n\u201cIt is only this,\u201d continued Do\u00f1a Perfecta, \u201cthat when you visit our\nbeautiful cathedral again, you will endeavor to behave with a little\nmore decorum while you are in it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, what have I done?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt does not surprise me that you are not yourself aware of your fault,\u201d\n said his aunt, with apparent good humor. \u201cIt is only natural; accustomed\nas you are to enter athenaeums and clubs, and academies and congresses\nwithout any ceremony, you think that you can enter a temple in which the\nDivine Majesty is in the same manner.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut excuse me, se\u00f1ora,\u201d said Pepe gravely, \u201cI entered the cathedral\nwith the greatest decorum.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I am not scolding you, man; I am not scolding you. If you take it\nin that way I shall have to remain silent. Excuse my nephew, gentlemen.\nA little carelessness, a little heedlessness on his part is not to be\nwondered at. How many years is it since you set foot in a sacred place\nbefore?\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1ora, I assure you----But, in short, let my religious ideas be what\nthey may, I am in the habit of observing the utmost decorum in church.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat I assure you is----There, if you are going to be offended I won\u2019t\ngo on. What I assure you is that a great many people noticed it this\nmorning. The Se\u00f1ores de Gonzalez, Do\u00f1a Robustiana, Serafinita--in short,\nwhen I tell you that you attracted the attention of the bishop----His\nlordship complained to me about it this afternoon when I was at my\ncousin\u2019s. He told me that he did not order you to be put out of the\nchurch only because you were my nephew.\u201d\n\nRosario looked anxiously at her cousin, trying to read in his\ncountenance, before he uttered it, the answer he would make to these\ncharges.\n\n\u201cNo doubt they mistook me for some one else.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no! it was you. But there, don\u2019t get angry! We are talking here\namong friends and in confidence. It was you. I saw you myself.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou saw me!\u201d\n\n\u201cJust so. Will you deny that you went to look at the pictures, passing\namong a group of worshippers who were hearing mass? I assure you that my\nattention was so distracted by your comings and goings that--well, you\nmust not do it again. Then you went into the chapel of San Gregorio. At\nthe elevation of the Host at the high altar you did not even turn around\nto make a gesture of reverence. Afterward you traversed the whole length\nof the church, you went up to the tomb of the Adelantado, you touched\nthe altar with your hands, then you passed a second time among a group\nof worshippers, attracting the notice of every one. All the girls looked\nat you, and you seemed pleased at disturbing so finely the devotions of\nthose good people.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood Heavens! How many things I have done!\u201d exclaimed Pepe, half angry,\nhalf amused. \u201cI am a monster, it seems, without ever having suspected\nit.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I am very well aware that you are a good boy,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta,\nobserving the canon\u2019s expression of unalterable gravity, which gave his\nface the appearance of a pasteboard mask. \u201cBut, my dear boy, between\nthinking things and showing them in that irreverent manner, there is a\ndistance which a man of good sense and good breeding should never cross.\nI am well aware that your ideas are----Now, don\u2019t get angry! If you\nget angry, I will be silent. I say that it is one thing to have certain\nideas about religion and another thing to express them. I will take good\ncare not to reproach you because you believe that God did not create us\nin his image and likeness, but that we are descended from the monkeys;\nnor because you deny the existence of the soul, asserting that it is a\ndrug, like the little papers of rhubarb and magnesia that are sold at\nthe apothecary\u2019s--\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1ora, for Heaven\u2019s sake!\u201d exclaimed Pepe, with annoyance. \u201cI see that\nI have a very bad reputation in Orbajosa.\u201d\n\nThe others remained silent.\n\n\u201cAs I said, I will not reproach you for entertaining those ideas. And,\nbesides, I have not the right to do so. If I should undertake to argue\nwith you, you, with your wonderful talents, would confute me a thousand\ntimes over. No, I will not attempt any thing of that kind. What I say\nis that these poor and humble inhabitants of Orbajosa are pious and\ngood Christians, although they know nothing about German philosophy, and\nthat, therefore, you ought not publicly to manifest your contempt for\ntheir beliefs.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear aunt,\u201d said the engineer gravely, \u201cI have shown no contempt for\nany one, nor do I entertain the ideas which you attribute to me. Perhaps\nI may have been a little wanting in reverence in the church. I am\nsomewhat absent-minded. My thoughts and my attention were engaged\nwith the architecture of the building and, frankly speaking, I did not\nobserve----But this was no reason for the bishop to think of putting me\nout of the church, nor for you to suppose me capable of attributing to\na paper from the apothecary\u2019s the functions of the soul. I may tolerate\nthat as a jest, but only as a jest.\u201d\n\nThe agitation of Pepe Rey\u2019s mind was so great that, notwithstanding his\nnatural prudence and moderation, he was unable to conceal it.\n\n\u201cThere! I see that you are angry,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, casting down her\neyes and clasping her hands. \u201cI am very sorry. If I had known that you\nwould have taken it in that way, I should not have spoken to you. Pepe,\nI ask your pardon.\u201d\n\nHearing these words and seeing his kind aunt\u2019s deprecating attitude,\nPepe felt ashamed of the sternness of his last words, and he made an\neffort to recover his serenity. The venerable Penitentiary extricated\nhim from his embarrassing position, saying with his accustomed\nbenevolent smile:\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1ora Do\u00f1a Perfecta, we must be tolerant with artists. Oh, I have\nknown a great many of them! Those gentlemen, when they have before them\na statue, a piece of rusty armor, a mouldy painting, or an old wall,\nforget every thing else. Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9 is an artist, and he has visited\nour cathedral as the English visit it, who would willingly carry it away\nwith them to their museums, to its last tile, if they could. That the\nworshippers were praying, that the priest was elevating the Sacred Host,\nthat the moment of supreme piety and devotion had come--what of that?\nWhat does all that matter to an artist? It is true that I do not know\nwhat art is worth, apart from the sentiments which it expresses, but,\nin fine, at the present day, it is the custom to adore the form, not\nthe idea. God preserve me from undertaking to discuss this question with\nSe\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9, who knows so much, and who, reasoning with the admirable\nsubtlety of the moderns, would instantly confound my mind, in which\nthere is only faith.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe determination which you all have to regard me as the most learned\nman on earth annoys me exceedingly,\u201d said Pepe, speaking in his former\nhard tone. \u201cHold me for a fool; for I would rather be regarded as a fool\nthan as the possessor of that Satanic knowledge which is here attributed\nto me.\u201d\n\nRosarito laughed, and Jacinto thought that a highly opportune moment had\nnow arrived to make a display of his own erudition.\n\n\u201cPantheism or panentheism,\u201d he said, \u201cis condemned by the Church, as\nwell as by the teachings of Schopenhauer and of the modern Hartmann.\u201d\n\n\u201cLadies and gentlemen,\u201d said the canon gravely, \u201cmen who pay so fervent\na worship to art, though it be only to its form, deserve the greatest\nrespect. It is better to be an artist, and delight in the contemplation\nof beauty, though this be only represented by nude nymphs, than to be\nindifferent and incredulous in every thing. The mind that consecrates\nitself to the contemplation of beauty, evil will not take complete\npossession of. _Est Deus in nobis_. _Deus_, be it well understood. Let\nSe\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9, then, continue to admire the marvels of our church; I,\nfor one, will willingly forgive him his acts of irreverence, with all\ndue respect for the opinions of the bishop.\u201d\n\n\u201cThanks, Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio,\u201d said Pepe, feeling a bitter and\nrebellious sentiment of hostility springing up within him toward the\ncanon, and unable to conquer his desire to mortify him. \u201cBut let none\nof you imagine, either, that it was the beauties of art, of which\nyou suppose the temple to be full, that engaged my attention. Those\nbeauties, with the exception of the imposing architecture of a portion\nof the edifice and of the three tombs that are in the chapel of the\napse, I do not see. What occupied my mind was the consideration of\nthe deplorable decadence of the religious arts; and the innumerable\nmonstrosities, of which the cathedral is full, caused me not\nastonishment, but disgust.\u201d\n\nThe amazement of all present was profound.\n\n\u201cI cannot endure,\u201d continued Pepe, \u201cthose glazed and painted images\nthat resemble so much--God forgive me for the comparison--the dolls that\nlittle girls pay with. And what am I to say of the theatrical robes that\ncover them? I saw a St. Joseph with a mantle whose appearance I will not\ndescribe, out of respect for the holy patriarch and for the church of\nwhich he is the patron. On the altar are crowded together images in\nthe worst possible taste; and the innumerable crowns, branches, stars,\nmoons, and other ornaments of metal or gilt paper have an air of an\nironmongery that offends the religious sentiment and depresses the soul.\nFar from lifting itself up to religious contemplation, the soul sinks,\nand the idea of the ludicrous distracts it. The great works of art which\ngive sensible form to ideas, to dogmas, to religious faith, to mystic\nexaltation, fulfil a noble mission. The caricatures, the aberrations of\ntaste, the grotesque works with which a mistaken piety fills the church,\nalso fulfil their object; but this is a sad one enough: They encourage\nsuperstition, cool enthusiasm, oblige the eyes of the believer to turn\naway from the altar, and, with the eyes, the souls that have not a very\nprofound and a very firm faith turn away also.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe doctrine of the iconoclasts, too,\u201d said Jacinto, \u201chas, it seems,\nspread widely in Germany.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not an iconoclast, although I would prefer the destruction of\nall the images to the exhibition of buffooneries of which I speak,\u201d\n continued the young man. \u201cSeeing it, one may justly advocate a return of\nreligious worship to the august simplicity of olden times. But no; let\nus not renounce the admirable aid which all the arts, beginning with\npoetry and ending with music, lend to the relations between man and\nGod. Let the arts live; let the utmost pomp be displayed in religious\nceremonies. I am a partisan of pomp.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn artist, an artist, and nothing more than an artist!\u201d exclaimed\nthe canon, shaking his head with a sorrowful air. \u201cFine pictures, fine\nstatues, beautiful music; pleasure for the senses, and let the devil\ntake the soul!\u201d\n\n\u201cApropos of music,\u201d said Pepe Rey, without observing the deplorable\neffect which his words produced on both mother and daughter, \u201cimagine\nhow disposed my mind would be to religious contemplation on entering the\ncathedral, when just at that moment, and precisely at the offertory at\nhigh mass, the organist played a passage from \u2018Traviata.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or de Rey is right in that,\u201d said the little lawyer emphatically.\n\u201cThe organist played the other day the whole of the drinking song and\nthe waltz from the same opera, and afterward a rondeau from the \u2018Grande\nDuchesse.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cBut when I felt my heart sink,\u201d continued the engineer implacably,\n\u201cwas when I saw an image of the Virgin, which seems to be held in great\nveneration, judging from the crowd before it and the multitude of tapers\nwhich lighted it. They have dressed her in a puffed-out garment of\nvelvet, embroidered with gold, of a shape so extraordinary that it\nsurpasses the most extravagant of the fashions of the day. Her face\nis almost hidden under a voluminous frill, made of innumerable rows\nof lace, crimped with a crimping-iron, and her crown, half a yard in\nheight, surrounded by golden rays, looks like a hideous catafalque\nerected over her head. Of the same material, and embroidered in the same\nmanner, are the trousers of the Infant Jesus. I will not go on, for to\ndescribe the Mother and the Child might perhaps lead me to commit some\nirreverence. I will only say that it was impossible for me to keep from\nsmiling, and for a short time I contemplated the profaned image, saying\nto myself: \u2018Mother and Lady mine, what a sight they have made of you!\u2019\u201d\n\nAs he ended Pepe looked at his hearers, and although, owing to the\ngathering darkness, he could not see their countenances distinctly, he\nfancied that in some of them he perceived signs of angry consternation.\n\n\u201cWell, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9!\u201d exclaimed the canon quickly, smiling with\na triumphant expression, \u201cthat image, which to your philosophy and\npantheism appears so ridiculous, is Our Lady of Help, patroness\nand advocate of Orbajosa, whose inhabitants regard her with so much\nveneration that they would be quite capable of dragging any one through\nthe streets who should speak ill of her. The chronicles and history,\nSe\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9, are full of the miracles which she has wrought, and even\nat the present day we receive constantly incontrovertible proofs of her\nprotection. You must know also that your aunt, Do\u00f1a Perfecta, is chief\nlady in waiting to the Most Holy Virgin of Help, and that the dress\nthat to you appears so grotesque--went out from this house, and that the\ntrousers of the Infant are the work of the skilful needle and the ardent\npiety combined of your cousin Rosarito, who is now listening to us.\u201d\n\nPepe Rey was greatly disconcerted. At the same instant Do\u00f1a Perfecta\nrose abruptly from her seat, and, without saying a word, walked\ntoward the house, followed by the Penitentiary. The others rose also.\nRecovering from his stupefaction, the young man was about to beg his\ncousin\u2019s pardon for his irreverence, when he observed that Rosarito was\nweeping. Fixing on her cousin a look of friendly and gentle reproof, she\nsaid:\n\n\u201cWhat ideas you have!\u201d\n\nThe voice of Do\u00f1a Perfecta was heard crying in an altered accent:\n\n\u201cRosario! Rosario!\u201d\n\nThe latter ran toward the house.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X\n\nTHE EVIDENCE OF DISCORD IS EVIDENT\n\nPepe Rey was disturbed and perplexed, enraged with himself and every one\nelse; he tried in vain to imagine what could be the conflict that had\narisen, in spite of himself, between his ideas and the ideas of his\naunt\u2019s friends. Thoughtful and sad, foreseeing future discord, he\nremained for a short time sitting on the bench in the summer-house, his\nchin resting on his breast, his forehead gathered in a frown, his hands\nclasped. He thought himself alone.\n\nSuddenly he heard a gay voice humming the refrain of a song from a\nzarzuela. He looked up and saw Don Jacinto sitting in the opposite\ncorner of the summer-house.\n\n\u201cAh, Se\u00f1or de Rey!\u201d said the youth abruptly, \u201cone does not offend with\nimpunity the religious sentiments of the great majority of a nation. If\nyou doubt it, consider what happened in the first French revolution.\u201d\n\nWhen Pepe heard the buzzing of this insect his irritation increased.\nNevertheless there was no anger in his soul toward the youthful doctor\nof laws. The latter annoyed him, as a fly might annoy him, but nothing\nmore. Rey felt the irritation which every importunate being inspires,\nand with the air of one who brushes away a buzzing drone, he answered:\n\n\u201cWhat has the French revolution to do with the robe of the Virgin?\u201d\n\nHe got up and walked toward the house, but he had not taken half a dozen\nsteps before he heard again beside him the buzzing of the mosquito,\nsaying:\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9, I wish to speak to you about an affair in which you are\ngreatly interested and which may cause you some trouble.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn affair?\u201d said the young man, drawing back. \u201cLet us hear what affair\nis that.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou suspect what it is, perhaps,\u201d said Jacinto, approaching Pepe,\nand smiling with the air of a man of business who has some unusually\nimportant matter on hand; \u201cI want to speak to you about the lawsuit.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe lawsuit! My friend, I have no lawsuits. You, as a good lawyer,\ndream of lawsuits and see stamped paper everywhere.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! You have not heard of your lawsuit?\u201d exclaimed the youth, with\namazement.\n\n\u201cOf my lawsuit! But I have no lawsuits, nor have I ever had any.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, if you have not heard of it, I am all the better pleased to have\nspoken to you about it, so that you may be on your guard. Yes, se\u00f1or,\nyou are going to have a suit at law.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd with whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cWith Uncle Licurgo and other land-owners whose property borders on the\nestate called The Poplars.\u201d\n\nPepe Rey was astounded.\n\n\u201cYes, se\u00f1or,\u201d continued the little lawyer. \u201cTo-day Uncle Licurgo and I\nhad a long conference. As I am such a friend of the family, I wanted to\nlet you know about it, so that, if you think well of it, you may hasten\nto arrange the matter.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what have I to arrange? What do those rascals claim from me?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt seems that a stream of water which rises in your property has\nchanged its course and flows over some tile-works of the aforesaid Uncle\nLicurgo and the mill of another person, occasioning considerable\ndamage. My client--for he is determined that I shall get him out of this\ndifficulty--my client, as I said, demands that you shall restore the\nwater to its former channel, so as to avoid fresh injuries, and that\nyou shall indemnify him for the damage which his works have already\nsustained through the neglect of the superior proprietor.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I am the superior proprietor! If I engage in a lawsuit, that will\nbe the first fruit that those famous Poplars, which were mine and which\nnow, as I understand, belong to everybody, will have ever produced me,\nfor Licurgo, as well as some of the other farmers of the district, have\nbeen filching from me, little by little, year after year, pieces of\nland, and it will be very difficult to re-establish the boundaries of my\nproperty.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is a different question.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is not a different question. The real suit,\u201d exclaimed the\nengineer, unable to control his anger, \u201cwill be the one that I will\nbring against that rabble who no doubt propose to themselves to tire me\nout and drive me to desperation--so that I may abandon every thing and\nlet them continue in possession of what they have stolen. We shall see\nif there are lawyers and judges who will uphold the infamous conduct of\nthose village legists, who are forever at law, and who waste and consume\nthe property of others. I am obliged to you, young gentleman, for having\ninformed me of the villanous intentions of those boors, who are more\nperverse than Satan himself. When I tell you that that very tile-yard\nand that very mill on which Licurgo bases his claim are mine--\u201d\n\n\u201cThe title-deeds of the property ought to be examined, to see if\npossession may not constitute a title in this case.\u201d\n\n\u201cPossession! Those scoundrels are not going to have the pleasure of\nlaughing at me in that way. I suppose that justice is honestly and\nfaithfully administered in the city of Orbajosa.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, as to that!\u201d exclaimed the little lawyer, with an approving look,\n\u201cthe judge is an excellent person! He comes here every evening. But it\nis strange that you should have received no notice of Se\u00f1or Licurgo\u2019s\nclaims. Have you not yet been summoned to appear before the tribunal of\narbitration?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt will be to-morrow, then. Well, I am very sorry that Se\u00f1or Licurgo\u2019s\nprecipitation has deprived me of the pleasure and honor of defending\nyou, but what is to be done? Licurgo was determined that I should take\nhim out of his troubles. I will study the matter with the greatest care.\nThis vile slavery is the great drawback of jurisprudence.\u201d\n\nPepe entered the dining-room in a deplorable state of mind. Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta was talking with the Penitentiary, as he entered, and Rosarito\nwas sitting alone, with her eyes fixed on the door. She was no doubt\nwaiting for her cousin.\n\n\u201cCome here, you rascal,\u201d said his aunt, smiling with very little\nspontaneity. \u201cYou have insulted us, you great atheist! but we forgive\nyou. I am well aware that my daughter and myself are two rustics who are\nincapable of soaring to the regions of mathematics where you dwell, but\nfor all that it is possible that you may one day get down on your knees\nto us and beg us to teach you the Christian doctrine.\u201d\n\nPepe answered with vague phrases and formulas of politeness and\nrepentance.\n\n\u201cFor my part,\u201d said Don Inocencio, with an affected air of meekness and\namiability, \u201cif in the course of these idle disputes I have said any\nthing that could offend Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9, I beg his pardon for it. We are\nall friends here.\u201d\n\n\u201cThanks. It is of no consequence.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn spite of every thing,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, smiling with more\nnaturalness than before, \u201cI shall always be the same for my dear nephew;\nin spite of his extravagant and anti-religious ideas. In what way do you\nsuppose I am going to spend this evening? Well, in trying to make Uncle\nLicurgo give up those obstinate notions which would otherwise cause you\nannoyance. I sent for him, and he is waiting for me now in the hall.\nMake yourself easy, I will arrange the matter; for although I know that\nhe is not altogether without right on his side--\u201d\n\n\u201cThanks, dear aunt,\u201d responded the young man, his whole being invaded by\na wave of the generous emotion which was so easily aroused in his soul.\n\nPepe Rey looked in the direction of his cousin, intending to join her,\nbut some wily questions of the canon retained him at Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s\nside. Rosario looked dejected, and was listening with an air of\nmelancholy indifference to the words of the little lawyer, who, having\ninstalled himself at her side, kept up a continuous stream of fulsome\nflatteries, seasoned with ill-timed jests and fatuous remarks in the\nworst possible taste.\n\n\u201cThe worst of it is,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta to her nephew--surprising the\nglance which he cast in the direction of the ill-assorted pair--\u201cthe\nworst of it is, that you have offended poor Rosario. You must do all in\nyour power to make your peace with her. The poor child is so good!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes! so good,\u201d added the canon, \u201cthat I have no doubt that she will\nforgive her cousin.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think that Rosario has already forgiven me,\u201d affirmed Rey.\n\n\u201cAnd if not, angelic breasts do not harbor resentment long,\u201d said Don\nInocencio mellifluously. \u201cI have a great deal of influence with the\nchild, and I will endeavor to dissipate in her generous soul whatever\nprejudice may exist there against you. As soon as I say a word or two to\nher----\u201d\n\nPepe Rey felt a cloud darken his soul and he said with meaning:\n\n\u201cPerhaps it may not be necessary.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will not speak to her now,\u201d added the capitular, \u201cbecause she is\nlistening entranced to Jacinto\u2019s nonsense. Ah, those children! When they\nonce begin there is no stopping them.\u201d\n\nThe judge of the lower court, the alcalde\u2019s lady, and the dean of the\ncathedral now made their appearance. They all saluted the engineer,\nmanifesting in their words and manner, on seeing him, the satisfaction\nof gratified curiosity. The judge was one of those clever and\nintelligent young men who every day spring into notice in official\ncircles; aspiring, almost before they are out of the shell, to the\nhighest political and administrative positions. He gave himself airs of\ngreat importance, and in speaking of himself and of his juvenile toga,\nhe seemed indirectly to manifest great offence because he had not been\nall at once made president of the supreme court. In such inexpert hands,\nin a brain thus swollen with vanity, in this incarnation of conceit, had\nthe state placed the most delicate and the most difficult functions\nof human justice. His manners were those of a perfect courtier, and\nrevealed a scrupulous and minute attention to all that concerned his own\nperson. He had the insufferable habit of taking off and putting on every\nmoment his gold eye-glasses, and in his conversation he manifested with\nfrequency the strong desire which he had to be transferred to Madrid,\nin order that he might give his invaluable services to the Department of\nGrace and Justice.\n\nThe alcalde\u2019s lady was a good-natured woman, whose only weakness was to\nfancy that she had a great many acquaintances at the court. She asked\nPepe Rey various questions about the fashions, mentioning establishments\nin which she had had a mantle or a skirt made on her last journey to\nthe capital, contemporaneous with the visit of Muley-Abbas, and she also\nmentioned the names of a dozen duchesses and marchionesses; speaking\nof them with as much familiarity as if they had been friends of her\nschool-days. She said also that the Countess of M. (famous for her\nparties) was a friend of hers and that in \u201860 she had paid her a visit,\nwhen the countess had invited her to her box at the Teatro Real, where\nshe saw Muley-Abbas in Moorish dress and accompanied by his retinue\nof Moors. The alcalde\u2019s wife talked incessantly and was not wanting in\nhumor.\n\nThe dean was a very old man, corpulent and red-faced, plethoric and\napoplectic looking, a man so obese that he seemed bursting out of his\nskin. He had belonged to one of the suppressed religious orders; he\ntalked only of religious matters; and from the very first manifested the\nmost profound contempt for Pepe Rey. The latter appeared every moment\nmore unable to accommodate himself to a society so little to his\ntaste. His disposition--not at all malleable, hard, and very little\nflexible--rejected the duplicities and the compromises of language to\nsimulate concord when it did not exist. He remained, then, very grave\nduring the whole of the tiresome evening, obliged as he was to endure\nthe oratorical vehemence of the alcalde\u2019s wife, who, without being Fame,\nhad the privilege of fatiguing with a hundred tongues the ears of men.\nIf, in some brief respite which this lady gave her hearers, Pepe Rey\nmade an attempt to approach his cousin, the Penitentiary attached\nhimself to him instantly, like the mollusk to the rock; taking him apart\nwith a mysterious air to propose to him an excursion with Se\u00f1or Don\nCayetano to Mundogrande, or a fishing party on the clear waters of the\nNahara.\n\nAt last the evening came to an end, as every thing does in this world.\nThe dean retired, leaving the house, as it seemed, empty, and very soon\nthere remained of the alcalde\u2019s wife only an echo, like the buzz\nwhich remains in the air after a storm has passed away. The judge also\ndeprived the company of his presence, and at last Don Inocencio gave his\nnephew the signal for departure.\n\n\u201cCome, boy, come; for it is late,\u201d he said, smiling. \u201cHow you have\ntormented poor Rosarito, has he not, child? Home, you rogue, home,\nwithout delay.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is time to go to bed,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta.\n\n\u201cTime to go to work,\u201d responded the little lawyer.\n\n\u201cI am always telling him that he ought to get through with his business\nin the day-time, but he will not mind me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is so much, so very much business to be got through.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, say rather, that confounded work which you have undertaken. He does\nnot wish to say it, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9, but the truth is that he is writing\na book on \u2018The Influence of Woman in Christian Society,\u2019 and, in\naddition to that, \u2018A Glance at the Catholic Movement in\u2019--somewhere or\nother. What do you know about glances or influences? But these youths of\nthe present day have audacity enough for any thing. Oh, what boys! Well,\nlet us go home. Good-night, Se\u00f1ora Do\u00f1a Perfecta--good-night, Se\u00f1or Don\nJos\u00e9--Rosarito.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will wait for Se\u00f1or Don Cayetano,\u201d said Jacinto, \u201cto ask him to give\nme the Augusto Nicolas.\u201d\n\n\u201cAlways carrying books. Why, sometimes you come into the house laden\nlike a donkey. Very well, then, let us wait.\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Don Jacinto does not write hastily,\u201d said Pepe Rey; \u201che prepares\nhimself well for his work, so that his books may be treasures of\nlearning.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut that boy will injure his brain,\u201d objected Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cFor\nHeaven\u2019s sake be careful! I would set a limit to his reading.\u201d\n\n\u201cSince we are going to wait,\u201d said the little doctor, in a tone of\ninsufferable conceit, \u201cI will take with me also the third volume of\nConcilios. What do you think, uncle?\u201d\n\n\u201cTake that, of course. It would never do to leave that behind you.\u201d\n\nFortunately Se\u00f1or Don Cayetano (who generally spent his evenings at the\nhouse of Don Lorenzo Ruiz) soon arrived, and the books being received,\nuncle and nephew left the house.\n\nRey read in his cousin\u2019s sad countenance a keen desire to speak to him.\nHe approached her while Do\u00f1a Perfecta and Don Cayetano were discussing\nsome domestic matter apart.\n\n\u201cYou have offended mamma,\u201d said Rosarito.\n\nHer features expressed something like terror.\n\n\u201cIt is true,\u201d responded the young man; \u201cI have offended your mamma--I\nhave offended you.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not me. I already imagined that the Infant Jesus ought not to wear\ntrousers.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I hope that you will both forgive me. Your mamma was so kind to me\na little while ago.\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s voice suddenly vibrated through the dining-room, with\nso discordant a tone that her nephew started as if he had heard a cry of\nalarm. The voice said imperiously:\n\n\u201cRosario, go to bed!\u201d\n\nStartled, her mind filled with anxious fears, the girl lingered in the\nroom, going here and there as if she was looking for something. As she\npassed her cousin she whispered softly and cautiously these words:\n\n\u201cMamma is angry.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut--\u201d\n\n\u201cShe is angry--be on your guard, be on your guard.\u201d\n\nThen she left the room. Her mother, for whom Uncle Licurgo was waiting,\nfollowed her, and for some time the voices of Do\u00f1a Perfecta and the\ncountryman were heard mingled together in familiar conference. Pepe was\nleft with Don Cayetano, who, taking a light, said;\n\n\u201cGood-night, Pepe. But don\u2019t suppose that I am going to sleep, I am\ngoing to work. But why are you so thoughtful? What is the matter\nwith you?--Just as I say, to work. I am making notes for a \u2018Memorial\nDiscourse on the Genealogies of Orbajosa.\u2019 I have already found data and\ninformation of the utmost value. There can be no dispute about it. In\nevery period of our history the Orbajosans have been distinguished\nfor their delicate sense of honor, their chivalry, their valor, their\nintellectuality. The conquest of Mexico, the wars of the Emperor, the\nwars of Philip against the heretics, testify to this. But are you ill?\nWhat is the matter with you? As I say, eminent theologians, valiant\nwarriors, conquerors, saints, bishops, statesmen--all sorts of\nillustrious men--have flourished in this humble land of the garlic.\nNo, there is not in Christendom a more illustrious city than ours. Its\nvirtues and its glories are in themselves enough and more than enough\nto fill all the pages of our country\u2019s history. Well, I see that it is\nsleepy you are--good-night. As I say, I would not exchange the glory of\nbeing a son of this noble city for all the gold in the world. Augusta,\nthe ancients called it; Augustissima, I call it now; for now, as then,\nhigh-mindedness, generosity, valor, magnanimity, are the patrimony of\nall. Well, good-night, dear Pepe. But I fancy you are not well. Has the\nsupper disagreed with you?--Alonzo Gonzalez de Bustamante was right when\nhe said in his \u2018Floresta Amena\u2019 that the people of Orbajosa suffice in\nthemselves to confer greatness and honor on a kingdom. Don\u2019t you think\nso?\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes, se\u00f1or; undoubtedly,\u201d responded Pepe Rey, going abruptly toward\nhis room.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI\n\nTHE DISCORD GROWS\n\nDuring the following days Pepe Rey made the acquaintance of several of\nthe people of the place; he visited the Casino, and formed friendships\nwith some of the individuals who spend their lives in the rooms of that\ncorporation.\n\nBut the youth of Orbajosa did not spend all their time in the Casino,\nas evil-minded people might imagine. In the afternoons there were to be\nseen at the corner of the cathedral, and in the little plaza formed\nby the intersection of the Calle del Condestable and the Calle de la\nTriperia, several gentlemen who, gracefully enveloped in their cloaks,\nstood there like sentinels, watching the people as they passed by. If\nthe weather was fine, those shining lights of the Urbs Augustan culture\nbent their steps, still enveloped in the indispensable cloak, toward\nthe promenade called the Paseo de las Descalzas, which was formed by\na double row of consumptive-looking elms and some withered bushes\nof broom. There the brilliant Pleiad watched the daughters of this\nfellow-townsman or that, who had also come there for a walk, and the\nafternoon passed tolerably. In the evening, the Casino filled up again;\nand while some of the members gave their lofty minds to the delights of\nmonte, others read the newspapers, while the majority discussed in the\ncoffee-room subjects of the various kinds, such as the politics, horses,\nbulls, or the gossip of the place. The result of every discussion was\nthe renewed conviction of the supremacy of Orbajosa and its inhabitants\nover all the other towns and peoples on the face of the earth.\n\nThese distinguished men were the cream of the illustrious city; some\nrich landowners, others very poor, but all alike free from lofty\naspirations. They had the imperturbable tranquillity of the beggar who\ndesires nothing more so long as he has a crust of bread with which to\ncheat hunger, and the sun to warm him. What chiefly distinguished the\nOrbajosans of the Casino was a sentiment of bitter hostility toward\nall strangers, and whenever any stranger of note appeared in its august\nhalls, they believed that he had come there to call in question the\nsuperiority of the land of the garlic, or to dispute with it, through\nenvy, the incontestable advantages which nature had bestowed upon it.\n\nWhen Pepe Rey presented himself in the Casino, they received him with\nsomething of suspicion, and as facetious persons abounded in it, before\nthe new member had been there a quarter of an hour, all sorts of jokes\nhad been made about him. When in answer to the reiterated questions of\nthe members he said that he had come to Orbajosa with a commission to\nexplore the basin of the Nahara for coal, and to survey a road, they\nall agreed that Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9 was a conceited fellow who wished to\ngive himself airs, discovering coalbeds and planning railroads. Some one\nadded:\n\n\u201cHe has come to a bad place for that, then. Those gentlemen imagine that\nhere we are all fools, and that they can deceive us with fine words. He\nhas come to marry Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s daughter, and all that he says about\ncoalbeds is only for the sake of appearances.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, this morning,\u201d said another, a merchant who had failed, \u201cthey\ntold me at the Dominguez\u2019 that the gentleman has not a peseta, and that\nhe has come here in order to be supported by his aunt and to see if he\ncan catch Rosarito.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt seems that he is no engineer at all,\u201d added an olive-planter, whose\nplantations were mortgaged for double their value. \u201cBut it is as you\nsay: those starvelings from Madrid think they are justified in deceiving\npoor provincials, and as they believe that here we all wear tails--\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is plain to be seen that he is penniless--\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, half-jest and the whole earnest, he told us last night that we\nwere lazy barbarians.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat we spent our time sunning ourselves, like the Bedouins.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat we lived with the imagination.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s it; that we lived with the imagination.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd that this city was precisely like a city in Morocco.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell! one has no patience to listen to those things. Where else\ncould he see (unless it might be in Paris) a street like the Calle\ndel Condestable, that can show seven houses in a row, all of them\nmagnificent, from Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s house to that of Nicolasita Hernandez?\nDoes that fellow suppose that one has never seen any thing, or has never\nbeen in Paris?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe also said, with a great deal of delicacy, that Orbajosa was a city\nof beggars; and he gave us to understand that in his opinion we live in\nthe meanest way here without being ourselves aware of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat insolence! If he ever says that to me, there will be a scene in\nthe Casino,\u201d exclaimed the collector of taxes. \u201cWhy didn\u2019t they tell him\nhow many arrobas of oil Orbajosa produced last year? Doesn\u2019t the fool\nknow that in good years Orbajosa produces wheat enough to supply all\nSpain, and even all Europe, with bread? It is true that the crops have\nbeen bad for several years past, but that is not the rule. And the\ncrop of garlic! I wager the gentleman doesn\u2019t know that the garlic of\nOrbajosa made the gentleman of the jury in the Exposition of London\nstare!\u201d\n\nThese and other conversations of a similar kind were to be heard in the\nrooms of the Casino in those days. Notwithstanding this boastful talk,\nso common in small towns, which, for the very reason that they are\nsmall, are generally arrogant, Rey was not without finding sincere\nfriends among the members of the learned corporation, for they were not\nall gossips, nor were there wanting among them persons of good sense.\nBut our hero had the misfortune--if misfortune it can be called--to be\nunusually frank in the manifestation of his feelings, and this awakened\nsome antipathy toward him.\n\nDays passed. In addition to the natural disgust which the social customs\nof the episcopal city produced in him, various causes, all of them\ndisagreeable, began to develop in his mind a profound sadness, chief\namong these causes being the crowd of litigants that swarmed about him\nlike voracious ants. Many others of the neighboring landowners besides\nUncle Licurgo claimed damages from him, or asked him to render accounts\nfor lands managed by his grandfather. A claim was also brought against\nhim because of a certain contract of partnership entered into by his\nmother and which, as it appeared, had not been fulfilled; and he was\nrequired in the same way to acknowledge a mortgage on the estate of\nThe Poplars executed in an irregular form by his uncle. Claims swarmed\naround him, multiplying with ant-like rapidity. He had come to the\ndetermination to renounce the ownership of his lands, but meanwhile his\ndignity required that he should not yield to the wily manoeuvres of the\nartful rustics; and as the town-council brought a claim against him also\non account of a pretended confusion of the boundary lines of his\nestate with those of an adjoining wood belonging to the town-lands, the\nunfortunate young man found himself at every step obliged to prove his\nrights, which were being continually called in question. His honor\nwas engaged, and he had no alternative but to defend his rights to the\ndeath.\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta had promised in her magnanimity to help him to\nfree himself from these disgraceful plots by means of an amicable\narrangement; but the days passed, and the good offices of the exemplary\nlady had produced no result whatever. The claims multiplied with the\ndangerous swiftness of a violent disease. Pepe Rey passed hour after\nhour at court, making declarations and answering the same questions\nover and over again, and when he returned home tired and angry, there\nappeared before him the sharp features and grotesque face of the notary,\nwho had brought him a thick bundle of stamped papers full of horrible\nformulas--that he might be studying the question.\n\nIt will be easily understood that Pepe Rey was not a man to endure\nsuch annoyances when he might escape from them by leaving the town. His\nmother\u2019s noble city appeared to his imagination like a horrible monster\nwhich had fastened its ferocious claws in him and was drinking his\nblood. To free himself from this monster nothing more was necessary, he\nbelieved, than flight. But a weighty interest--an interest in which his\nheart was concerned--kept him where he was; binding him to the rock of\nhis martyrdom with very strong bonds. Nevertheless, he had come to feel\nso dissatisfied with his position; he had come to regard himself as\nso utterly a stranger, so to say, in that gloomy city of lawsuits,\nof old-fashioned customs and ideas, of envy and of slander, that he\nresolved to leave it without further delay, without, however, abandoning\nthe project which had brought him to it. One morning, finding a\nfavorable occasion, he opened his mind to Do\u00f1a Perfecta on this point.\n\n\u201cNephew,\u201d responded that lady, with her accustomed gentleness, \u201cdon\u2019t be\nrash. Why! you are like fire. Your father was just the same--what a man\nhe was! You are like a flash--I have already told you that I will be\nvery glad to call you my son. Even if you did not possess the good\nqualities and the talents which distinguish you (in spite of some little\ndefects, for you have those, too); even if you were not as good as you\nare; it is enough that this union has been proposed by your father, to\nwhom both my daughter and myself owe so much, for me to accept it. And\nRosarito will not oppose it since I wish it. What is wanting, then?\nNothing; there is nothing wanting but a little time. The marriage cannot\nbe concluded with the haste you desire and which might, perhaps,\ngive ground for interpretations discreditable to my dear daughter\u2019s\nreputation. But as you think of nothing but machines, you want every\nthing done by steam. Wait, man, wait; what hurry are you in? This hatred\nthat you have taken to our poor Orbajosa is nothing but a caprice. But\nof course you can only live among counts and marquises and orators and\ndiplomats--all you want is to get married and separate me forever from\nmy daughter,\u201d she added, wiping away a tear. \u201cSince that is the case,\ninconsiderate boy, at least have the charity to delay for a little this\nmarriage, for which you are so eager. What impatience! What ardent\nlove! I did not suppose that a poor country girl like my daughter could\ninspire so violent a passion.\u201d\n\nThe arguments of his aunt did not convince Pepe Rey, but he did not\nwish to contradict her. A fresh cause of anxiety was soon added to those\nwhich already embittered his existence. He had now been in Orbajosa\nfor two weeks, and during that time he had received no letter from his\nfather. This could not be attributed to carelessness on the part of the\nofficials of the post-office of Orbajosa, for the functionary who had\ncharge of that service being the friend and _prot\u00e9g\u00e9_ of Do\u00f1a Perfecta,\nthe latter every day recommended him to take the greatest care that the\nletters addressed to her nephew did not go astray. The letter-carrier,\nnamed Cristoval Ramos, and nicknamed Caballuco--a personage whose\nacquaintance we have already made--also visited the house, and to him\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta was accustomed to address warnings and reprimands as\nenergetic as the following:\n\n\u201cA pretty mail service you have! How is it that my nephew has not\nreceived a single letter since he has been in Orbajosa? When the\ncarrying of the mail is entrusted to such a giddy-pate, how can things\nbe expected to go well? I will speak to the governor of the province so\nthat he may be careful what kind of people he puts in the post-office.\u201d\n\nCaballuco, shrugging his shoulders, looked at Rey with the most complete\nindifference.\n\nOne day he entered the house with a letter in his hand.\n\n\u201cThank Heaven!\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta to her nephew. \u201cHere are letters\nfrom your father. Rejoice, man! A pretty fright we have had through\nmy brother\u2019s laziness about writing. What does he say? He is well, no\ndoubt,\u201d she added, seeing that Pepe Rey opened the letter with feverish\nimpatience.\n\nThe engineer turned pale as he glanced over the first lines.\n\n\u201cGood Heavens! Pepe, what is the matter?\u201d exclaimed Do\u00f1a Perfecta,\nrising in alarm. \u201cIs your father ill?\u201d\n\n\u201cThis letter is not from my father,\u201d responded Pepe, revealing in his\ncountenance the greatest consternation.\n\n\u201cWhat is it, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cAn order from the Minister of Public Works, relieving me from the\ncharge which was confided to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! Can it be possible!\u201d\n\n\u201cA dismissal pure and simple, expressed in terms very little flattering\nto me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas there ever any thing so unjust!\u201d exclaimed Do\u00f1a Perfecta, when she\nhad recovered from her amazement.\n\n\u201cWhat a humiliation!\u201d exclaimed the young man. \u201cIt is the first time in\nmy life that I have received an affront like this.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut the Government is unpardonable! To put such a slight upon you! Do\nyou wish me to write to Madrid? I have very good friends there, and\nI may be able to obtain satisfaction for you from the Government and\nreparation for this brutal affront.\u201d\n\n\u201cThanks, se\u00f1ora, I desire no recommendations,\u201d said the young man, with\nill-humor.\n\n\u201cBut what a piece of injustice! what a high-handed proceeding! To\ndischarge in this way a young man of your merit, an eminent scientist.\nWhy, I cannot contain my anger!\u201d\n\n\u201cI will find out,\u201d said Pepe, with energy, \u201cwho it is that occupies\nhimself in injuring me.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat minister--but what is to be expected from those infamous\npoliticasters?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn this there is the hand of some one who is determined to drive me to\ndesperation,\u201d declared the young man, visibly disturbed. \u201cThis is\nnot the act of the minister; this and other contrarieties that I am\nexperiencing are the result of a revengeful plot, of a secret and\nwell-laid plan of some implacable enemy, and this enemy is here in\nOrbajosa, this plot has been hatched in Orbajosa, doubt it not, dear\naunt.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are out of your mind,\u201d replied Do\u00f1a Perfecta, with a look of\ncompassion. \u201cYou have enemies in Orbajosa, you say? Some one wishes to\nrevenge himself upon you? Come, Pepillo, you have lost your senses.\nThe reading of those books in which they say that we have for ancestors\nmonkeys or parrots has turned your brain.\u201d\n\nShe smiled sweetly as she uttered the last words, and taking a tone of\nfamiliar and affectionate admonition, she added:\n\n\u201cMy dear boy, the people of Orbajosa may be rude and boorish rustics,\nwithout learning, or polish, or fine manners; but in loyalty and good\nfaith we yield to no one--to no one, I say, no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t suppose,\u201d said the young man, \u201cthat I accuse any one in this\nhouse. But that my implacable and cruel enemy is in this city, I am\npersuaded.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wish you would show me that stage villain,\u201d responded Do\u00f1a Perfecta,\nsmiling again. \u201cI suppose you will not accuse Uncle Licurgo, nor any\nof the others who have brought suits against you; for the poor people\nbelieve they are only defending their rights. And between ourselves,\nthey are not altogether wanting in reason in this case. Besides, Uncle\nLicurgo likes you greatly. He has told me so himself. From the moment he\nsaw you, you took his fancy, and the poor old man has conceived such an\naffection for you--\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, yes--a profound affection!\u201d murmured Pepe.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be foolish,\u201d continued his aunt, putting her hand on his shoulder\nand looking at him closely. \u201cDon\u2019t imagine absurdities; convince\nyourself that your enemy, if you have one, is in Madrid, in that centre\nof corruption, of envy and rivalry, not in this peaceful and tranquil\ncorner, where all is good-will and concord. Some one, no doubt, who is\nenvious of your merit----There is one thing I wish to say now--and that\nis, that if you desire to go there to learn the cause of this affront\nand ask an explanation of it from the Government, you must not neglect\ndoing so on our account.\u201d\n\nPepe Rey fixed his eyes on his aunt\u2019s countenance, as if he wished to\npenetrate with his glance the inmost depths of her soul.\n\n\u201cI say that if you wish to go, do so,\u201d repeated Do\u00f1a Perfecta, with\nadmirable serenity, while her countenance expressed the most complete\nand unaffected sincerity.\n\n\u201cNo, se\u00f1ora: I do not wish to go.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo much the better; I think you are right. You are more tranquil here,\nnotwithstanding the suspicions with which you are tormenting yourself.\nPoor Pepillo! We poor rustics of Orbajosa live happy in our ignorance. I\nam very sorry that you are not contented here. But is it my fault if you\nvex and worry yourself without a cause? Do I not treat you like a son?\nHave I not received you as the hope of my house? Can I do more for\nyou? If in spite of all this you do not like us, if you show so much\nindifference toward us, if you ridicule our piety, if you insult our\nfriends, is it by chance because we do not treat you well?\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s eyes grew moist.\n\n\u201cMy dear aunt,\u201d said Pepe, feeling his anger vanish, \u201cI too have\ncommitted some faults since I have been a guest in this house.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be foolish. Don\u2019t talk about committing faults. Among the persons\nof the same family every thing is forgiven.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut Rosarito--where is she?\u201d asked the young man, rising. \u201cAm I not to\nsee her to-day, either?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe is better. Do you know that she did not wish to come down stairs?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will go up to her then.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, it would be of no use. That girl has some obstinate notions--to-day\nshe is determined not to leave her room. She has locked herself in.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a strange idea!\u201d\n\n\u201cShe will get over it. Undoubtedly she will get over it. We will see\nto-night if we cannot put these melancholy thoughts out of her head. We\nwill get up a party to amuse her. Why don\u2019t you go to Don Inocencio\u2019s\nand ask him to come here to-night and bring Jacintillo with him?\u201d\n\n\u201cJacintillo!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, when Rosarito has these fits of melancholy, the only one who can\ndivert her is that young man.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I will go upstairs----\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, you must not.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat etiquette there is in this house!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are ridiculing us. Do as I ask you.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I wish to see her.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you cannot see her. How little you know the girl!\u201d\n\n\u201cI thought I knew her well. I will stay here, then. But this solitude is\nhorrible.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere comes the notary.\u201d\n\n\u201cMaledictions upon him!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I think the attorney-general has just come in too--he is an\nexcellent person.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe be hanged with his goodness!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut business affairs, when they are one\u2019s own, serve as a distraction.\nSome one is coming. I think it is the agricultural expert. You will have\nsomething to occupy you now for an hour or two.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn hour or two of hell!\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, ha! if I am not mistaken Uncle Licurgo and Uncle Paso Largo have\njust entered. Perhaps they have come to propose a compromise to you.\u201d\n\n\u201cI would throw myself into the pond first!\u201d\n\n\u201cHow unnatural you are! For they are all very fond of you. Well, so that\nnothing may be wanting, there comes the constable too. He is coming to\nserve a summons on you.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo crucify me.\u201d\n\nAll the individuals named were now entering the parlor one by one.\n\n\u201cGood-by, Pepe; amuse yourself,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta.\n\n\u201cEarth, open and swallow me!\u201d exclaimed the young man desperately.\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear Don Jos\u00e9.\u201d\n\n\u201cEsteemed Don Jos\u00e9.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dearest Don Jos\u00e9.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy respected friend, Don Jos\u00e9.\u201d\n\nHearing these honeyed and insinuating preliminaries, Pepe Rey exhaled a\ndeep sigh and gave himself up. He gave himself up, soul and body, to the\nexecutioners, who brandished horrible leaves of stamped paper while the\nvictim, raising his eyes to heaven with a look of Christian meekness,\nmurmured:\n\n\u201cFather, why hast thou forsaken me?\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII\n\nHERE WAS TROY\n\nLove, friendship, a wholesome moral atmosphere, spiritual light,\nsympathy, an easy interchange of ideas and feelings, these were what\nPepe Rey\u2019s nature imperatively demanded. Deprived of them, the darkness\nthat shrouded his soul grew deeper, and his inward gloom imparted a\ntinge of bitterness and discontent to his manner. On the day following\nthe scenes described in the last chapter, what vexed him more than any\nthing was the already prolonged and mysterious seclusion of his cousin,\naccounted for at first by a trifling indisposition and then by caprices\nand nervous feelings difficult of explanation.\n\nRey was surprised by conduct so contrary to the idea which he had formed\nof Rosarito. Four days had passed during which he had not seen her; and\ncertainly it was not because he did not desire to be at her side; and\nhis situation threatened soon to become humiliating and ridiculous, if,\nby boldly taking the initiative, he did not at once put an end to it.\n\n\u201cShall I not see my cousin to-day, either?\u201d he said to his aunt, with\nmanifest ill-humor, when they had finished dining.\n\n\u201cNo, not to-day, either. Heaven knows how sorry I am for it. I gave her\na good talking to this morning. This afternoon we will see what can be\ndone.\u201d\n\nThe suspicion that in this unreasonable seclusion his adorable cousin\nwas rather the helpless victim than the free and willing agent, induced\nhim to control himself and to wait. Had it not been for this suspicion\nhe would have left Orbajosa that very day. He had no doubt whatever that\nRosario loved him, but it was evident that some unknown influence was\nat work to separate them, and it seemed to him to be the part of an\nhonorable man to discover whence that malign influence proceeded and to\noppose it, as far as it was in his power to do so.\n\n\u201cI hope that Rosarito\u2019s obstinacy will not continue long,\u201d he said to\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta, disguising his real sentiments.\n\nOn this day he received a letter from his father in which the latter\ncomplained of having received none from Orbajosa, a circumstance which\nincreased the engineer\u2019s disquietude, perplexing him still further.\nFinally, after wandering about alone in the garden for a long time, he\nleft the house and went to the Casino. He entered it with the desperate\nair of a man about to throw himself into the sea.\n\nIn the principal rooms he found various people talking and discussing\ndifferent subjects. In one group they were solving with subtle logic\ndifficult problems relating to bulls; in another, they were discussing\nthe relative merits of different breeds of donkeys of Orbajosa and\nVillahorrenda. Bored to the last degree, Pepe Rey turned away from these\ndiscussions and directed his steps toward the reading-room, where he\nlooked through various reviews without finding any distraction in the\nreading, and a little later, passing from room to room, he stopped,\nwithout knowing why, at the gaming-table. For nearly two hours he\nremained in the clutches of the horrible yellow demon, whose shining\neyes of gold at once torture and charm. But not even the excitement of\nplay had power to lighten the gloom of his soul, and the same tedium\nwhich had impelled him toward the green cloth sent him away from\nit. Shunning the noise, he found himself in an apartment used as an\nassembly-room, in which at the time there was not a living soul, and\nhere he seated himself wearily at a window overlooking the street.\n\nThis was very narrow, with more corners and salient angles than houses,\nand was overshaded throughout its whole extent by the imposing mass of\nthe cathedral that lifted its dark and time-corroded walls at one end\nof it. Pepe Rey looked up and down and in every direction; no sign\nof life--not a footstep, not a voice, not a glance, disturbed the\nstillness, peaceful as that of a tomb, that reigned everywhere. Suddenly\nstrange sounds, like the whispering of feminine voices, fell on his ear,\nand then the rustling of curtains that were being drawn, a few words,\nand finally the humming of a song, the bark of a lap-dog, and other\nsigns of social life, which seemed very strange in such a place.\nObserving attentively, Pepe Rey perceived that these noises proceeded\nfrom an enormous balcony with blinds which displayed its corpulent bulk\nin front of the window at which he was sitting. Before he had concluded\nhis observations, a member of the Casino suddenly appeared beside him,\nand accosted him laughingly in this manner:\n\n\u201cAh, Se\u00f1or Don Pepe! what a rogue you are! So you have shut yourself in\nhere to ogle the girls, eh?\u201d\n\nThe speaker was Don Juan Tafetan, a very amiable man, and one of the few\nmembers of the Casino who had manifested for Pepe Rey cordial friendship\nand genuine admiration. With his red cheeks, his little dyed mustache,\nhis restless laughing eyes, his insignificant figure, his hair carefully\ncombed to hide his baldness, Don Juan Tafetan was far from being an\nAntinous in appearance, but he was very witty and very agreeable and\nhe had a happy gift for telling a good story. He was much given to\nlaughter, and when he laughed his face, from his forehead to his chin,\nbecame one mass of grotesque wrinkles. In spite of these qualities, and\nof the applause which might have stimulated his taste for spicy jokes,\nhe was not a scandal-monger. Every one liked him, and Pepe Rey spent\nwith him many pleasant hours. Poor Tafetan, formerly an employe in the\ncivil department of the government of the capital of the province, now\nlived modestly on his salary as a clerk in the bureau of charities;\neking out his income by gallantly playing the clarionet in the\nprocessions, in the solemnities of the cathedral, and in the theatre,\nwhenever some desperate company of players made their appearance in\nthose parts with the perfidious design of giving representations in\nOrbajosa.\n\nBut the most curious thing about Don Juan Tafetan was his liking for\npretty girls. He himself, in the days when he did not hide his baldness\nwith half a dozen hairs plastered down with pomade, when he did not\ndye his mustache, when, in the freedom from care of youthful years, he\nwalked with shoulders unstooped and head erect, had been a formidable\n_Tenorio_. To hear him recount his conquests was something to make one\ndie laughing; for there are _Tenorios_ and _Tenorios_, and he was one of\nthe most original.\n\n\u201cWhat girls? I don\u2019t see any girls,\u201d responded Pepe Rey.\n\n\u201cYes, play the anchorite!\u201d\n\nOne of the blinds of the balcony was opened, giving a glimpse of a\nyouthful face, lovely and smiling, that disappeared instantly, like a\nlight extinguished by the wind.\n\n\u201cYes, I see now.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you know them?\u201d\n\n\u201cOn my life I do not.\u201d\n\n\u201cThey are the Troyas--the Troya girls. Then you don\u2019t know something\ngood. Three lovely girls, the daughters of a colonel of staff, who died\nin the streets of Madrid in \u201854.\u201d\n\nThe blind opened again, and two faces appeared.\n\n\u201cThey are laughing at me,\u201d said Tafetan, making a friendly sign to the\ngirls.\n\n\u201cDo you know them?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, of course I know them. The poor things are in the greatest want.\nI don\u2019t know how they manage to live. When Don Francisco Troya died a\nsubscription was raised for them, but that did not last very long.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor girls! I imagine they are not models of virtue.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd why not? I do not believe what they say in the town about them.\u201d\n\nOnce more the blinds opened.\n\n\u201cGood-afternoon, girls!\u201d cried Don Juan Tafetan to the three girls, who\nappeared, artistically grouped, at the window. \u201cThis gentleman says that\ngood things ought not to hide themselves, and that you should throw open\nthe blinds.\u201d\n\nBut the blind was closed and a joyous concert of laughter diffused a\nstrange gayety through the gloomy street. One might have fancied that a\nflock of birds was passing.\n\n\u201cShall we go there?\u201d said Tafetan suddenly.\n\nHis eyes sparkled and a roguish smile played on his discolored lips.\n\n\u201cBut what sort of people are they, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be afraid, Se\u00f1or de Rey. The poor things are honest. Bah! Why,\nthey live upon air, like the chameleons. Tell me, can any one who\ndoesn\u2019t eat sin? The poor girls are virtuous enough. And even if they\ndid sin, they fast enough to make up for it.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us go, then.\u201d\n\nA moment later Don Juan Tafetan and Pepe Rey were entering the parlor of\nthe Troyas. The poverty he saw, that struggled desperately to disguise\nitself, afflicted the young man. The three girls were very lovely,\nespecially the two younger ones, who were pale and dark, with large\nblack eyes and slender figures. Well-dressed and well shod they would\nhave seemed the daughters of a duchess, and worthy to ally themselves\nwith princes.\n\nWhen the visitors entered, the three girls were for a moment abashed:\nbut very soon their naturally gay and frivolous dispositions became\napparent. They lived in poverty, as birds live in confinement, singing\nbehind iron bars as they would sing in the midst of the abundance of\nthe forest. They spent the day sewing, which showed at least honorable\nprinciples; but no one in Orbajosa, of their own station in life, held\nany intercourse with them. They were, to a certain extent, proscribed,\nlooked down upon, avoided, which also showed that there existed some\ncause for scandal. But, to be just, it must be said that the bad\nreputation of the Troyas consisted, more than in any thing else, in\nthe name they had of being gossips and mischief-makers, fond of\nplaying practical jokes, and bold and free in their manners. They wrote\nanonymous letters to grave personages; they gave nicknames to every\nliving being in Orbajosa, from the bishop down to the lowest vagabond;\nthey threw pebbles at the passers-by; they hissed behind the window\nbars, in order to amuse themselves with the perplexity and annoyance of\nthe startled passer-by; they found out every thing that occurred in the\nneighborhood; to which end they made constant use of every window and\naperture in the upper part of the house; they sang at night in the\nbalcony; they masked themselves during the Carnival, in order to obtain\nentrance into the houses of the highest families; and they played many\nother mischievous pranks peculiar to small towns. But whatever its\ncause, the fact was that on the Troya triumvirate rested one of those\nstigmas that, once affixed on any one by a susceptible community,\naccompanies that person implacably even beyond the tomb.\n\n\u201cThis is the gentleman they say has come to discover the gold-mines?\u201d\n said one of the girls.\n\n\u201cAnd to do away with the cultivation of garlic in Orbajosa to plant\ncotton or cinnamon trees in its stead?\u201d\n\nPepe could not help laughing at these absurdities.\n\n\u201cAll he has come for is to make a collection of pretty girls to take\nback with him to Madrid,\u201d said Tafetan.\n\n\u201cAh! I\u2019ll be very glad to go!\u201d cried one.\n\n\u201cI will take the three of you with me,\u201d said Pepe. \u201cBut I want to know\none thing; why were you laughing at me when I was at the window of the\nCasino?\u201d\n\nThese words were the signal for fresh bursts of laughter.\n\n\u201cThese girls are silly things,\u201d said the eldest.\n\n\u201cIt was because we said you deserved something better than Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta\u2019s daughter.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt was because this one said that you are only losing your time, for\nRosarito cares only for people connected with the Church.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow absurd you are! I said nothing of the kind! It was you who said\nthat the gentleman was a Lutheran atheist, and that he enters the\ncathedral smoking and with his hat on.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I didn\u2019t invent it; that is what Suspiritos told me yesterday.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd who is this Suspiritos who says such absurd things about me?\u201d\n\n\u201cSuspiritos is--Suspiritos.\u201d\n\n\u201cGirls,\u201d said Tafetan, with smiling countenance, \u201cthere goes the\norange-vender. Call him; I want to invite you to eat oranges.\u201d\n\nOne of the girls called the orange-vender.\n\nThe conversation started by the Troyas displeased Pepe Rey not a little,\ndispelling the slight feeling of contentment which he had experienced\nat finding himself in such gay and communicative company. He could not,\nhowever, refrain from smiling when he saw Don Juan Tafetan take down\na guitar and begin to play upon it with all the grace and skill of his\nyouthful years.\n\n\u201cI have been told that you sing beautifully,\u201d said Rey to the girls.\n\n\u201cLet Don Juan Tafetan sing.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t sing.\u201d\n\n\u201cNor I,\u201d said the second of the girls, offering the engineer some pieces\nof the skin of the orange she had just peeled.\n\n\u201cMaria Juana, don\u2019t leave your sewing,\u201d said the eldest of the Troyas.\n\u201cIt is late, and the cassock must be finished to-night.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is to be no work to-day. To the devil with the needles!\u201d\n exclaimed Tafetan.\n\nAnd he began to sing a song.\n\n\u201cThe people are stopping in the street,\u201d said the second of the girls,\ngoing out on the balcony. \u201cDon Juan Tafetan\u2019s shouts can be heard in the\nPlaza--Juana, Juana!\u201d\n\n\u201cWell?\u201d\n\n\u201cSuspiritos is walking down the street.\u201d\n\n\u201cThrow a piece of orange-peel at her.\u201d\n\nPepe Rey looked out also; he saw a lady walking down the street at whom\nthe youngest of the Troyas, taking a skilful aim, threw a large piece\nof orange-peel, which struck her straight on the back of the head. Then\nthey hastily closed the blinds, and the three girls tried to stifle\ntheir laughter so that it might not be heard in the street.\n\n\u201cThere is no work to-day,\u201d cried one, overturning the sewing-basket with\nthe tip of her shoe.\n\n\u201cThat is the same as saying, to-morrow there is to be no eating,\u201d said\nthe eldest, gathering up the sewing implements.\n\nPepe Rey instinctively put his hand into his pocket. He would gladly\nhave given them an alms. The spectacle of these poor orphans, condemned\nby the world because of their frivolity, saddened him beyond measure.\nIf the only sin of the Troyas, if the only pleasure which they had\nto compensate them for solitude, poverty, and neglect, was to throw\norange-peels at the passers-by, they might well be excused for doing\nit. The austere customs of the town in which they lived had perhaps\npreserved them from vice, but the unfortunate girls lacked decorum and\ngood-breeding, the common and most visible signs of modesty, and\nit might easily be supposed that they had thrown out of the window\nsomething more than orange-peels. Pepe Rey felt profound pity for\nthem. He noted their shabby dresses, made over, mended, trimmed, and\nretrimmed, to make them look like new; he noted their broken shoes--and\nonce more he put his hand in his pocket.\n\n\u201cVice may reign here,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cbut the faces, the\nfurniture, all show that this is the wreck of a respectable family. If\nthese poor girls were as bad as it is said they are, they would not\nlive in such poverty and they would not work. In Orbajosa there are rich\nmen.\u201d\n\nThe three girls went back and forward between him and the window,\nkeeping up a gay and sprightly conversation, which indicated, it must\nbe said, a species of innocence in the midst of all their frivolity and\nunconventionality.\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9, what an excellent lady Do\u00f1a Perfecta is!\u201d\n\n\u201cShe is the only person in Orbajosa who has no nickname, the only person\nin Orbajosa who is not spoken ill of.\u201d\n\n\u201cEvery one respects her.\u201d\n\n\u201cEvery one adores her.\u201d\n\nTo these utterances the young man responded by praises of his aunt, but\nhe had no longer any inclination to take money from his pocket and say,\n\u201cMaria Juana, take this for a pair of boots.\u201d \u201cPepa, take this to buy a\ndress for yourself.\u201d \u201cFlorentina, take this to provide yourself with a\nweek\u2019s provisions,\u201d as he had been on the point of doing. At a moment\nwhen the three girls had run out to the balcony to see who was passing,\nDon Juan Tafetan approached Rey and whispered to him:\n\n\u201cHow pretty they are! Are they not? Poor things! It seems impossible\nthat they should be so gay when it may be positively affirmed that they\nhave not dined to-day.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon Juan, Don Juan!\u201d cried Pepilla. \u201cHere comes a friend of yours,\nNicolasito Hernandez, in other words, Cirio Pascual, with this\nthree-story hat. He is praying to himself, no doubt, for the souls of\nthose whom he has sent to the grave with his extortion.\u201d\n\n\u201cI wager that neither of you will dare to call him by his nickname.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a bet.\u201d\n\n\u201cJuana, shut the blinds, wait until he passes, and when he is turning\nthe corner, I will call out, \u2018Cirio, Cirio Pascual!\u2019\u201d\n\nDon Juan Tafetan ran out to the balcony.\n\n\u201cCome here, Don Jos\u00e9, so that you may know this type,\u201d he called.\n\nPepe Rey, availing himself of the moment in which the three girls and\nDon Juan were making merry in the balcony, calling Nicolasito Hernandez\nthe nickname which so greatly enraged him, stepped cautiously to one of\nthe sewing baskets in the room and placed in it a half ounce which he\nhad left after his losses at play.\n\nThen he hurried out to the balcony just as the two youngest cried in the\nmidst of wild bursts of laughter, \u201cCirio, Cirio Pascual!\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII\n\nA CASUS BELLI\n\nAfter this prank the Troyas commenced a conversation with their visitors\nabout the people and the affairs of the town. The engineer, fearing\nthat his exploit might be discovered while he was present, wished to go,\nwhich displeased the Troyas greatly. One of them who had left the room\nnow returned, saying:\n\n\u201cSuspiritos is now in the yard; she is hanging out the clothes.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon Jos\u00e9 will wish to see her,\u201d said another of the girls.\n\n\u201cShe is a fine-looking woman. And now she arranges her hair in the\nMadrid fashion. Come, all of you.\u201d\n\nThey took their visitors to the dining-room--an apartment very little\nused--which opened on a terrace, where there were a few flowers in\npots and many broken and disused articles of furniture. The terrace\noverlooked the yard of an adjoining house, with a piazza full of green\nvines and plants in pots carefully cultivated. Every thing about it\nshowed it to be the abode of neat and industrious people of modest\nmeans.\n\nThe Troyas, approaching the edge of the roof, looked attentively at\nthe neighboring house, and then, imposing silence by a gesture on their\ncavaliers, retreated to a part of the terrace from which they could not\nsee into the yard, and where there was no danger of their being seen\nfrom it.\n\n\u201cShe is coming out of the kitchen now with a pan of peas,\u201d said Maria\nJuana, stretching out her neck to look.\n\n\u201cThere goes!\u201d cried another, throwing a pebble into the yard.\n\nThe noise of the projectile striking against the glass of the piazza was\nheard, and then an angry voice crying:\n\n\u201cNow they have broken another pane of glass!\u201d\n\nThe girls, hidden, close beside the two men, in a corner of the terrace,\nwere suffocating with laughter.\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1ora Suspiritos is very angry,\u201d said Rey. \u201cWhy do they call her by\nthat name?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause, when she is talking, she sighs after every word, and although\nshe has every thing she wants, she is always complaining.\u201d\n\nThere was a moment\u2019s silence in the house below. Pepita Troya looked\ncautiously down.\n\n\u201cThere she comes again,\u201d she whispered, once more imposing silence by a\ngesture. \u201cMaria, give me a pebble. Give it here--bang! there it goes!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou didn\u2019t hit her. It struck the ground.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet me see if I can. Let us wait until she comes out of the pantry\nagain.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, now she is coming out. Take care, Florentina.\u201d\n\n\u201cOne, two, three! There it goes!\u201d\n\nA cry of pain was heard from below, a malediction, a masculine\nexclamation, for it was a man who uttered it. Pepe Rey could distinguish\nclearly these words:\n\n\u201cThe devil! They have put a hole in my head, the----Jacinto, Jacinto!\nBut what an abominable neighborhood this is!\u201d\n\n\u201cGood Heavens! what have I done!\u201d exclaimed Florentina, filled with\nconsternation. \u201cI have struck Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio on the head.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe Penitentiary?\u201d said Pepe Rey.\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoes he live in that house?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, where else should he live?\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd the lady of the sighs----\u201d\n\n\u201cIs his niece, his housekeeper, or whatever else she may be. We\namuse ourselves with her because she is very tiresome, but we are not\naccustomed to play tricks on his reverence, the Penitentiary.\u201d\n\nWhile this dialogue was being rapidly carried on, Pepe Rey saw, in front\nof the terrace and very near him, a window belonging to the bombarded\nhouse open; he saw a smiling face appear at it--a familiar face--a face\nthe sight of which stunned him, terrified him, made him turn pale and\ntremble. It was that of Jacinto, who, interrupted in his grave studies,\nappeared at it with his pen behind his ear. His modest, fresh, and\nsmiling countenance, appearing in this way, had an auroral aspect.\n\n\u201cGood-afternoon, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9,\u201d he said gayly.\n\n\u201cJacinto, Jacinto, I say!\u201d\n\n\u201cI am coming. I was saluting a friend.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome away, come away!\u201d cried Florentina, in alarm. \u201cThe Penitentiary is\ngoing up to Don Nominative\u2019s room and he will give us a blessing.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, come away; let us close the door of the dining-room.\u201d\n\nThey rushed pell-mell from the terrace.\n\n\u201cYou might have guessed that Jacinto would see you from his temple of\nlearning,\u201d said Tafetan to the Troyas.\n\n\u201cDon Nominative is our friend,\u201d responded one of the girls. \u201cFrom his\ntemple of science he says a great many sweet things to us on the sly,\nand he blows us kisses besides.\u201d\n\n\u201cJacinto?\u201d asked the engineer. \u201cWhat the deuce is that name you gave\nhim?\u201d\n\n\u201cDon Nominative.\u201d\n\nThe three girls burst out laughing.\n\n\u201cWe call him that because he is very learned.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, because when we were little he was little too. But, yes, now I\nremember. We used to play on the terrace, and we could hear him studying\nhis lessons aloud.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, and the whole blessed day he used to spend singling.\u201d\n\n\u201cDeclining, girl! That is what it was. He would go like this:\n\u2018Nominative, rosa, Genitive, Dative, Accusative.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cI suppose that I have my nickname too,\u201d said Pepe Rey.\n\n\u201cLet Maria Juana tell you what it is,\u201d said Florentina, hiding herself.\n\n\u201cI? Tell it to him you, Pepa.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou haven\u2019t any name yet, Don Jos\u00e9.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I shall have one. I promise you that I will come to hear what it is\nand to receive confirmation,\u201d said the young man, making a movement to\ngo.\n\n\u201cWhat, are you going?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes. You have lost time enough already. To work, girls! Throwing stones\nat the neighbors and the passers-by is not the most suitable occupation\nfor girls as pretty and as clever as you are. Well, good-by.\u201d\n\nAnd without waiting for further remonstrances, or answering the\ncivilities of the girls, he left the house hastily, leaving Don Juan\nTafetan behind him.\n\nThe scene which he had just witnessed, the indignity suffered by the\ncanon, the unexpected appearance of the little doctor of laws, added\nstill further to the perplexities, the anxieties, and the disagreeable\npresentiments that already disturbed the soul of the unlucky engineer.\nHe regretted with his whole soul having entered the house of the Troyas,\nand, resolving to employ his time better while his hypochondriasm\nlasted, he made a tour of inspection through the town.\n\nHe visited the market, the Calle de la Triperia, where the principal\nstores were; he observed the various aspects presented by the industry\nand commerce of the great city of Orbajosa, and, finding only new\nmotives of weariness, he bent his steps in the direction of the Paseo de\nlas Descalzas; but he saw there only a few stray dogs, for, owing to the\ndisagreeable wind which prevailed, the usual promenaders had remained\nat home. He went to the apothecary\u2019s, where various species of ruminant\nfriends of progress, who chewed again and again the cud of the same\nendless theme, were accustomed to meet, but there he was still more\nbored. Finally, as he was passing the cathedral, he heard the strains\nof the organ and the beautiful chanting of the choir. He entered, knelt\nbefore the high altar, remembering the warnings which his aunt had given\nhim about behaving with decorum in church; then visited a chapel, and\nwas about to enter another when an acolyte, warden, or beadle approached\nhim, and with the rudest manner and in the most discourteous tone said\nto him:\n\n\u201cHis lordship says that you are to get out of the church.\u201d\n\nThe engineer felt the blood rush to his face. He obeyed without a\nword. Turned out everywhere, either by superior authority or by his own\ntedium, he had no resource but to return to his aunt\u2019s house, where he\nfound waiting for him:\n\nFirst, Uncle Licurgo, to announce a second lawsuit to him; second, Se\u00f1or\nDon Cayetano, to read him another passage from his discourse on the\n\u201cGenealogies of Orbajosa\u201d; third, Caballuco, on some business which he\nhad not disclosed; fourth, Do\u00f1a Perfecta and her affectionate smile, for\nwhat will appear in the following chapter.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV\n\nTHE DISCORD CONTINUES TO INCREASE\n\nA fresh attempt to see his cousin that evening failed, and Pepe Rey shut\nhimself up in his room to write several letters, his mind preoccupied\nwith one thought.\n\n\u201cTo-night or to-morrow,\u201d he said to himself, \u201cthis will end one way or\nanother.\u201d\n\nWhen he was called to supper Do\u00f1a Perfecta, who was already in the\ndining-room, went up to him and said, without preface:\n\n\u201cDear Pepe, don\u2019t distress yourself, I will pacify Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio.\nI know every thing already. Maria Remedios, who has just left the house,\nhas told me all about it.\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s countenance radiated such satisfaction as an artist,\nproud of his work, might feel.\n\n\u201cAbout what?\u201d\n\n\u201cSet your mind at rest. I will make an excuse for you. You took a few\nglasses too much in the Casino, that was it, was it not? There you\nhave the result of bad company. Don Juan Tafetan, the Troyas! This is\nhorrible, frightful. Did you consider well?\u201d\n\n\u201cI considered every thing,\u201d responded Pepe, resolved not to enter into\ndiscussions with his aunt.\n\n\u201cI shall take good care not to write to your father what you have done.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou may write whatever you please to him.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou will exculpate yourself by denying the truth of this story, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cI deny nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou confess then that you were in the house of those----\u201d\n\n\u201cI was.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd that you gave them a half ounce; for, according to what Maria\nRemedios has told me, Florentina went down to the shop of the\nExtramaduran this afternoon to get a half ounce changed. They could\nnot have earned it with their sewing. You were in their house to-day;\nconsequently--\u201d\n\n\u201cConsequently I gave it to her. You are perfectly right.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou do not deny it?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy should I deny it? I suppose I can do whatever I please with my\nmoney?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut you will surely deny that you threw stones at the Penitentiary.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not throw stones.\u201d\n\n\u201cI mean that those girls, in your presence--\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is another matter.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd they insulted poor Maria Remedios, too.\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not deny that, either.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how do you excuse your conduct! Pepe in Heaven\u2019s name, have you\nnothing to say? That you are sorry, that you deny--\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing, absolutely nothing, se\u00f1ora!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou don\u2019t even give me any satisfaction.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have done nothing to offend you.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, the only thing there is left for you to do now is--there, take\nthat stick and beat me!\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t beat people.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a want of respect! What, don\u2019t you intend to eat any supper?\u201d\n\n\u201cI intend to take supper.\u201d\n\nFor more than a quarter of an hour no one spoke. Don Cayetano, Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta, and Pepe Rey ate in silence. This was interrupted when Don\nInocencio entered the dining-room.\n\n\u201cHow sorry I was for it, my dear Don Jos\u00e9! Believe me, I was truly sorry\nfor it,\u201d he said, pressing the young man\u2019s hand and regarding him with a\nlook of compassion.\n\nThe engineer was so perplexed for a moment that he did not know what to\nanswer.\n\n\u201cI refer to the occurrence of this afternoon.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, yes!\u201d\n\n\u201cTo your expulsion from the sacred precincts of the cathedral.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe bishop should consider well,\u201d said Pepe Rey, \u201cbefore he turns a\nChristian out of the church.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is very true. I don\u2019t know who can have put it into his lordship\u2019s\nhead that you are a man of very bad habits; I don\u2019t know who has told\nhim that you make a boast of your atheism everywhere; that you ridicule\nsacred things and persons, and even that you are planning to pull down\nthe cathedral to build a large tar factory with the stones. I tried my\nbest to dissuade him, but his lordship is a little obstinate.\u201d\n\n\u201cThanks for so much kindness.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd it is not because the Penitentiary has any reason to show you these\nconsiderations. A little more, and they would have left him stretched on\nthe ground this afternoon.\u201d\n\n\u201cBah!\u201d said the ecclesiastic, laughing. \u201cBut have you heard of that\nlittle prank already? I wager Maria Remedios came with the story. And I\nforbade her to do it--I forbade her positively. The thing in itself is\nof no consequence, am I not right, Se\u00f1or de Rey?\u201d\n\n\u201cSince you think so----\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is what I think. Young people\u2019s pranks! Youth, let the moderns\nsay what they will, is inclined to vice and to vicious actions. Se\u00f1or\nde Rey, who is a person of great endowments, could not be altogether\nperfect--why should it be wondered at that those pretty girls should\nhave captivated him, and, after getting his money out of him, should\nhave made him the accomplice of their shameless and criminal insults to\ntheir neighbors? My dear friend, for the painful part that I had in this\nafternoon\u2019s sport,\u201d he added, raising his hand to the wounded spot,\n\u201cI am not offended, nor will I distress you by even referring to so\ndisagreeable an incident. I am truly sorry to hear that Maria Remedios\ncame here to tell all about it. My niece is so fond of gossiping! I\nwager she told too about the half ounce, and your romping with the girls\non the terrace, and your chasing one another about, and the pinches and\nthe capers of Don Juan Tafetan. Bah! those things ought not to be told.\u201d\n\nPepe Rey did not know which annoyed him most--his aunt\u2019s severity or the\nhypocritical condescension of the canon.\n\n\u201cWhy should they not be told?\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cHe does not seem\nashamed of his conduct himself. I assure you all that I keep this from\nmy dear daughter only because, in her nervous condition, a fit of anger\nmight be dangerous to her.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, it is not so serious as all that, se\u00f1ora,\u201d said the Penitentiary.\n\u201cI think the matter should not be again referred to, and when the one\nwho was stoned says that, the rest may surely be satisfied. And the blow\nwas no joke, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9. I thought they had split my head open and\nthat my brains were oozing out.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am truly sorry for the occurrence!\u201d stammered Pepe Rey. \u201cIt gives me\nreal pain, although I had no part in it--\u201d\n\n\u201cYour visit to those Se\u00f1oras Troyas will be talked about all over\nthe town,\u201d said the canon. \u201cWe are not in Madrid, in that centre of\ncorruption, of scandal--\u201d\n\n\u201cThere you can visit the vilest places without any one knowing it,\u201d said\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta.\n\n\u201cHere we are very observant of one another,\u201d continued Don Inocencio.\n\u201cWe take notice of everything our neighbors do, and with such a system\nof vigilance public morals are maintained at a proper height. Believe\nme, my friend, believe me,--and I do not say this to mortify you,--you\nare the first gentleman of your position who, in the light of day--the\nfirst, yes, se\u00f1or--_Trojoe qui primus ab oris_.\u201d\n\nAnd bursting into a laugh, he clapped the engineer on the back in token\nof amity and good-will.\n\n\u201cHow grateful I ought to be,\u201d said the young man, concealing his anger\nunder the sarcastic words which he thought the most suitable to answer\nthe covert irony of his interlocutors, \u201cto meet with so much generosity\nand tolerance, when my criminal conduct would deserve--\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat! Is a person of one\u2019s own blood, one who bears one\u2019s name,\u201d said\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta, \u201cto be treated like a stranger? You are my nephew, you\nare the son of the best and the most virtuous of men, of my dear brother\nJuan, and that is sufficient. Yesterday afternoon the secretary of the\nbishop came here to tell me that his lordship is greatly displeased\nbecause I have you in my house.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd that too?\u201d murmured the canon.\n\n\u201cAnd that too. I said that in spite of the respect which I owe the\nbishop, and the affection and reverence which I bear him, my nephew is\nmy nephew, and I cannot turn him out of my house.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is another singularity which I find in this place,\u201d said Pepe Rey,\npale with anger. \u201cHere, apparently, the bishop governs other people\u2019s\nhouses.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe is a saint. He is so fond of me that he imagines--he imagines that\nyou are going to contaminate us with your atheism, your disregard for\npublic opinion, your strange ideas. I have told him repeatedly that, at\nbottom, you are an excellent young man.\u201d\n\n\u201cSome concession must always be made to superior talent,\u201d observed Don\nInocencio.\n\n\u201cAnd this morning, when I was at the Cirujedas\u2019--oh, you cannot imagine\nin what a state they had my head! Was it true that you had come to\npull down the cathedral; that you were commissioned by the English\nProtestants to go preaching heresy throughout Spain; that you spent the\nwhole night gambling in the Casino; that you were drunk in the streets?\n\u2018But, se\u00f1oras,\u2019 I said to them, \u2018would you have me send my nephew to\nthe hotel?\u2019 Besides, they are wrong about the drunkenness, and as for\ngambling--I have never yet heard that you gambled.\u201d\n\nPepe Rey found himself in that state of mind in which the calmest man is\nseized by a sudden rage, by a blind and brutal impulse to strangle some\none, to strike some one in the face, to break some one\u2019s head, to crush\nsome one\u2019s bones. But Do\u00f1a Perfecta was a woman and was, besides, his\naunt; and Don Inocencio was an old man and an ecclesiastic. In addition\nto this, physical violence is in bad taste and unbecoming a person of\neducation and a Christian. There remained the resource of giving vent\nto his suppressed wrath in dignified and polite language; but this last\nresource seemed to him premature, and only to be employed at the moment\nof his final departure from the house and from Orbajosa. Controlling his\nfury, then, he waited.\n\nJacinto entered as they were finishing supper.\n\n\u201cGood-evening, Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9,\u201d he said, pressing the young man\u2019s hand.\n\u201cYou and your friends kept me from working this afternoon. I was not\nable to write a line. And I had so much to do!\u201d\n\n\u201cI am very sorry for it, Jacinto. But according to what they tell me,\nyou accompany them sometimes in their frolics.\u201d\n\n\u201cI!\u201d exclaimed the boy, turning scarlet. \u201cWhy, you know very well that\nTafetan never speaks a word of truth. But is it true, Se\u00f1or de Rey, that\nyou are going away?\u201d\n\n\u201cIs that the report in the town?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes. I heard it in the Casino and at Don Lorenzo Ruiz\u2019s.\u201d\n\nRey contemplated in silence for a few moments the fresh face of Don\nNominative. Then he said:\n\n\u201cWell, it is not true; my aunt is very well satisfied with me; she\ndespises the calumnies with which the Orbajosans are favoring me--and\nshe will not turn me out of her house, even though the bishop himself\nshould try to make her do so.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs for turning you out of the house--never. What would your father\nsay?\u201d\n\n\u201cNotwithstanding all your kindness, dearest aunt, notwithstanding the\ncordial friendship of the reverend canon, it is possible that I may\nmyself decide to go away.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo go away!\u201d\n\n\u201cTo go away--you!\u201d\n\nA strange light shone in Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s eyes. The canon, experienced\nthough he was in dissimulation, could not conceal his joy.\n\n\u201cYes, and perhaps this very night.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, man, how impetuous you are; Why don\u2019t you at least wait until\nmorning? Here--Juan, let some one go for Uncle Licurgo to get the nag\nready. I suppose you will take some luncheon with you. Nicolasa, that\npiece of veal that is on the sideboard! Librada, the se\u00f1orito\u2019s linen.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I cannot believe that you would take so rash a resolution,\u201d\n said Don Cayetano, thinking himself obliged to take some part in the\nquestion.\n\n\u201cBut you will come back, will you not?\u201d asked the canon.\n\n\u201cAt what time does the morning train pass?\u201d asked Do\u00f1a Perfecta, in\nwhose eyes was clearly discernible the feverish impatience of her\nexaltation.\n\n\u201cI am going away to-night.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut there is no moon.\u201d\n\nIn the soul of Do\u00f1a Perfecta, in the soul of the Penitentiary, in the\nlittle doctor\u2019s youthful soul echoed like a celestial harmony the word,\n\u201cTo-night!\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course, dear Pepe, you will come back. I wrote to-day to your\nfather, your excellent father,\u201d exclaimed Do\u00f1a Perfecta, with all the\nphysiognomic signs that make their appearance when a tear is about to be\nshed.\n\n\u201cI will trouble you with a few commissions,\u201d said the savant.\n\n\u201cA good opportunity to order the volume that is wanting in my copy of\nthe Abbe Gaume\u2019s work,\u201d said the youthful lawyer.\n\n\u201cYou take such sudden notions, Pepe; you are so full of caprices,\u201d\n murmured Do\u00f1a Perfecta, smiling, with her eyes fixed on the door of\nthe dining-room. \u201cBut I forgot to tell you that Caballuco is waiting to\nspeak to you.\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV\n\nDISCORD CONTINUES TO GROW UNTIL WAR IS DECLARED\n\nEvery one looked toward the door, at which appeared the imposing figure\nof the Centaur, serious-looking and frowning; embarrassed by his anxiety\nto salute the company politely; savagely handsome, but disfigured by the\nviolence which he did himself in smiling civilly and treading softly and\nholding his herculean arms in a correct posture.\n\n\u201cCome in, Se\u00f1or Ramos,\u201d said Pepe Rey.\n\n\u201cNo, no!\u201d objected Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cWhat he has to say to you is an\nabsurdity.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet him say it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI ought not to allow such ridiculous questions to be discussed in my\nhouse.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is Se\u00f1or Ramos\u2019 business with me?\u201d\n\nCaballuco uttered a few words.\n\n\u201cEnough, enough!\u201d exclaimed Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cDon\u2019t trouble my nephew any\nmore. Pepe, don\u2019t mind this simpleton. Do you wish me to tell you the\ncause of the great Caballuco\u2019s anger?\u201d she said, turning to the others.\n\n\u201cAnger? I think I can imagine,\u201d said the Penitentiary, leaning back in\nhis chair and laughing with boisterous hilarity.\n\n\u201cI wanted to say to Se\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9--\u201d growled the formidable horseman.\n\n\u201cHold your tongue, man, for Heaven\u2019s sake! And don\u2019t tire us any more\nwith that nonsense.\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Caballuco,\u201d said the canon, \u201cit is not to be wondered at that\ngentlemen from the capital should cut out the rough riders of this\nsavage country.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn two words, Pepe, the question is this: Caballuco is--\u201d\n\nShe could not go on for laughing.\n\n\u201cIs--I don\u2019t know just what,\u201d said Don Inocencio, \u201cof one of the Troya\ngirls, of Mariquita Juana, if I am not mistaken.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd he is jealous! After his horse, the first thing in creation for him\nis Mariquilla Troya.\u201d\n\n\u201cA pretty insinuation that!\u201d exclaimed Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cPoor Cristobal!\nDid you suppose that a person like my nephew--let us hear, what were you\ngoing to say to him? Speak.\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Don Jos\u00e9 and I will talk together presently,\u201d responded the bravo\nof the town brusquely.\n\nAnd without another word he left the room.\n\nShortly afterward Pepe Rey left the dining-room to retire to his\nown room. In the hall he found himself face to face with his Trojan\nantagonist, and he could not repress a smile at the sight of the fierce\nand gloomy countenance of the offended lover.\n\n\u201cA word with you,\u201d said the latter, planting himself insolently in front\nof the engineer. \u201cDo you know who I am?\u201d\n\nAs he spoke he laid his heavy hand on the young man\u2019s shoulder with\nsuch insolent familiarity that the latter, incensed, flung him off with\nviolence, saying:\n\n\u201cIt is not necessary to crush one to say that.\u201d\n\nThe bravo, somewhat disconcerted, recovered himself in a moment, and\nlooking at Rey with provoking boldness, repeated his refrain:\n\n\u201cDo you know who I am?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; I know now that you are a brute.\u201d\n\nHe pushed the bully roughly aside and went into his room. As traced on\nthe excited brain of our unfortunate friend at this moment, his plan of\naction might be summed up briefly and definitely as follows: To break\nCaballuco\u2019s head without loss of time; then to take leave of his aunt in\nsevere but polite words which should reach her soul; to bid a cold adieu\nto the canon and give an embrace to the inoffensive Don Cayetano;\nto administer a thrashing to Uncle Licurgo, by way of winding up the\nentertainment, and leave Orbajosa that very night, shaking the dust from\nhis shoes at the city gates.\n\nBut in the midst of all these mortifications and persecutions the\nunfortunate young man had not ceased to think of another unhappy being,\nwhom he believed to be in a situation even more painful and distressing\nthan his own. One of the maid-servants followed the engineer into his\nroom.\n\n\u201cDid you give her my message?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cYes, se\u00f1or, and she gave me this.\u201d\n\nRey took from the girl\u2019s hand a fragment of a newspaper, on the margin\nof which he read these words:\n\n\u201cThey say you are going away. I shall die if you do.\u201d\n\nWhen he returned to the dining-room Uncle Licurgo looked in at the door\nand asked:\n\n\u201cAt what hour do you want the horse?\u201d\n\n\u201cAt no hour,\u201d answered Rey quickly.\n\n\u201cThen you are not going to-night?\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cWell, it is\nbetter to wait until to-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not going to-morrow, either.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen are you going, then?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe will see presently,\u201d said the young man coldly, looking at his aunt\nwith imperturbable calmness. \u201cFor the present I do not intend to go\naway.\u201d\n\nHis eyes flashed forth a fierce challenge.\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta turned first red, then pale. She looked at the canon, who\nhad taken off his gold spectacles to wipe them, and then fixed her\neyes successively on each of the other persons in the room, including\nCaballuco, who, entering shortly before, had seated himself on the\nedge of a chair. Do\u00f1a Perfecta looked at them as a general looks at\nhis trusty body-guard. Then she studied the thoughtful and serene\ncountenance of her nephew--of that enemy, who, by a strategic movement,\nsuddenly reappeared before her when she believed him to be in shameful\nflight.\n\nAlas! Bloodshed, ruin, and desolation! A great battle was about to be\nfought.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI\n\nNIGHT\n\nOrbajosa slept. The melancholy street-lamps were shedding their last\ngleams at street-corners and in by-ways, like tired eyes struggling in\nvain against sleep. By their dim light, wrapped in their cloaks, glided\npast like shadows, vagabonds, watchmen, and gamblers. Only the hoarse\nshout of the drunkard or the song of the serenader broke the peaceful\nsilence of the historic city. Suddenly the \u201cAve Maria Purisima\u201d of some\ndrunken watchman would be heard, like a moan uttered in its sleep by the\ntown.\n\nIn Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s house also silence reigned, unbroken but for a\nconversation which was taking place between Don Cayetano and Pepe Rey,\nin the library of the former. The savant was seated comfortably in\nthe arm-chair beside his study table, which was covered with papers\nof various kinds containing notes, annotations, and references, all\narranged in the most perfect order. Rey\u2019s eyes were fixed on the heap of\npapers, but his thoughts were doubtless far away from this accumulated\nlearning.\n\n\u201cPerfecta,\u201d said the antiquary, \u201calthough she is an excellent woman, has\nthe defect of allowing herself to be shocked by any little act of folly.\nIn these provincial towns, my dear friend, the slightest slip is dearly\npaid for. I see nothing particular in your having gone to the Troyas\u2019\nhouse. I fancy that Don Inocencio, under his cloak of piety, is\nsomething of a mischief-maker. What has he to do with the matter?\u201d\n\n\u201cWe have reached a point, Se\u00f1or Don Cayetano, in which it is necessary\nto take a decisive resolution. I must see Rosario and speak with her.\u201d\n\n\u201cSee her, then!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut they will not let me,\u201d answered the engineer, striking the table\nwith his clenched hand. \u201cRosario is kept a prisoner.\u201d\n\n\u201cA prisoner!\u201d repeated the savant incredulously. \u201cThe truth is that I do\nnot like her looks or her hair, and still less the vacant expression\nin her beautiful eyes. She is melancholy, she talks little, she\nweeps--friend Don Jos\u00e9, I greatly fear that the girl may be attacked by\nthe terrible malady to which so many of the members of my family have\nfallen victims.\u201d\n\n\u201cA terrible malady! What is it?\u201d\n\n\u201cMadness--or rather mania. Not a single member of my family has been\nfree from it. I alone have escaped it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou! But leaving aside the question of madness,\u201d said Rey, with\nimpatience, \u201cI wish to see Rosario.\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing more natural. But the isolation in which her mother keeps\nher is a hygienic measure, dear Pepe, and the only one that has been\nsuccessfully employed with the various members of my family. Consider\nthat the person whose presence and voice would make the strongest\nimpression on Rosarillo\u2019s delicate nervous system is the chosen of her\nheart.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn spite of all that,\u201d insisted Pepe, \u201cI wish to see her.\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps Perfecta will not oppose your doing so,\u201d said the savant,\ngiving his attention to his notes and papers. \u201cI don\u2019t want to take any\nresponsibility in the matter.\u201d\n\nThe engineer, seeing that he could obtain nothing from the good\nPolentinos, rose to retire.\n\n\u201cYou are going to work,\u201d he said, \u201cand I will not trouble you any\nlonger.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, there is time enough. See the amount of precious information that\nI collected to-day. Listen: \u2018In 1537 a native of Orbajosa, called\nBartolome del Hoyo, went to Civita-Vecchia in one of the galleys of\nthe Marquis of Castel Rodrigo.\u2019 Another: \u2018In the same year two brothers\nnamed Juan and Rodrigo Gonzalez del Arco embarked in one of the six\nships which sailed from Maestricht on the 20th of February, and which\nencountered in the latitude of Calais an English vessel and the Flemish\nfleet commanded by Van Owen.\u2019 That was truly an important exploit of\nour navy. I have discovered that it was an Orbajosan, one Mateo Diaz\nCoronel, an ensign in the guards, who, in 1709, wrote and published\nin Valencia the \u2018Metrical Encomium, Funeral Chant, Lyrical Eulogy,\nNumerical Description, Glorious Sufferings, and Sorrowful Glories of the\nQueen of the Angels.\u2019 I possess a most precious copy of this work, which\nis worth the mines of Peru. Another Orbajosan was the author of that\nfamous \u2018Treatise on the Various Styles of Horsemanship\u2019 which I\nshowed you yesterday; and, in short, there is not a step I take in the\nlabyrinth of unpublished history that I do not stumble against some\nillustrious compatriot. It is my purpose to draw all these names out of\nthe unjust obscurity and oblivion in which they have so long lain. How\npure a joy, dear Pepe, to restore all their lustre to the glories, epic\nand literary, of one\u2019s native place! And how could a man better employ\nthe scant intellect with which Heaven has endowed him, the fortune which\nhe has inherited, and the brief period of time on earth allowed to even\nthe longest life. Thanks to me it will be seen that Orbajosa is the\nillustrious cradle of Spanish genius. But what do I say? Is not its\nillustrious ancestry evident in the nobleness and high-mindedness of\nthe present Urbs Augustan generation? We know few places where all the\nvirtues, unchoked by the malefic weeds of vice, grow more luxuriantly.\nHere all is peace, mutual respect, Christian humility. Charity is\npractised here as it was in Biblical times; here envy is unknown; here\nthe criminal passions are unknown, and if you hear thieves and murderers\nspoken of, you may be sure that they are not the children of this\nnoble soil; or, that if they are, they belong to the number of unhappy\ncreatures perverted by the teachings of demagogues. Here you will see\nthe national character in all its purity--upright, noble, incorruptible,\npure, simple, patriarchal, hospitable, generous. Therefore it is that\nI live so happy in this solitude far from the turmoil of cities where,\nalas! falsehood and vice reign. Therefore it is that the many friends\nwhom I have in Madrid have not been able to tempt me from this place;\ntherefore it is that I spend my life in the sweet companionship of my\nfaithful townspeople and my books, breathing the wholesome atmosphere of\nintegrity, which is gradually becoming circumscribed in our Spain to the\nhumble and Christian towns that have preserved it with the emanations of\ntheir virtues. And believe me, my dear Pepe, this peaceful isolation has\ngreatly contributed to preserve me from the terrible malady connatural\nin my family. In my youth I suffered, like my brothers and my father,\nfrom a lamentable propensity to the most absurd manias; but here you\nhave me so miraculously cured that all I know of the malady is what I\nsee of it in others. And it is for that reason that I am so uneasy about\nmy little niece.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am rejoiced that the air of Orbajosa has proved so beneficial to\nyou,\u201d said Rey, unable to resist the jesting mood that, by a strange\ncontradiction, came over him in the midst of his sadness. \u201cWith me it\nhas agreed so badly that I think I shall soon become mad if I remain in\nit. Well, good-night, and success to your labors.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood-night.\u201d\n\nPepe went to his room, but feeling neither a desire for sleep or the\nneed of physical repose,--on the contrary, a violent excitation of mind\nwhich impelled him to move, to act,--he walked up and down the room,\ntorturing himself with useless cavilling. After a time he opened the\nwindow which overlooked the garden and, leaning his elbows on the\nparapet, he gazed out on the limitless darkness of the night. Nothing\ncould be seen, but he who is absorbed in his own thoughts sees with the\nmental vision, and Pepe Rey, his eyes fixed on the darkness, saw the\nvaried panorama of his misfortunes unroll itself upon it before him. The\nobscurity did not permit him to see the flowers of the earth, nor those\nof the heavens, which are the stars. The very absence of light produced\nthe effect of an illusory movement in the masses of foliage, which\nseemed to stretch away, to recede slowly, and come curling back like the\nwaves of a shadowy sea. A vast flux and reflux, a strife between forces\nvaguely comprehended, agitated the silent sky. The mathematician,\ncontemplating this strange projection of his soul upon the night, said\nto himself:\n\n\u201cThe battle will be terrible. Let us see who will come out of it\nvictorious.\u201d\n\nThe nocturnal insects whispered in his ear mysterious words. Here\na shrill chirp; there a click, like the click made with the tongue;\nfurther on, plaintive murmurs; in the distance a tinkle like that of\nthe bell on the neck of the wandering ox. Suddenly Rey heard a strange\nsound, a rapid note, that could be produced only by the human tongue and\nlips. This sibilant breathing passed through the young man\u2019s brain like\na flash of lightning. He felt that swift \u201cs-s-s\u201d dart snake-like through\nhim, repeated again and then again, with augmented intensity. He looked\nall around, then he looked toward the upper part of the house, and he\nfancied that in one of the windows he could distinguish an object like\na white bird flapping its wings. Through Pepe Rey\u2019s excited mind flashed\ninstantly the idea of the phoenix, of the dove, of the regal heron, and\nyet the bird he saw was noting more than a handkerchief.\n\nThe engineer sprang from the balcony into the garden. Observing\nattentively, he saw the hand and the face of his cousin. He thought\nhe could perceive the gesture commonly employed of imposing silence by\nlaying the finger on the lips. Then the dear shade pointed downward and\ndisappeared. Pepe Rey returned quickly to this room, entered the hall\nnoiselessly, and walked slowly forward. He felt his heart beat with\nviolence. He waited for a few moments, and at last he heard distinctly\nlight taps on the steps of the stairs. One, two, three--the sounds were\nproduced by a pair of little shoes.\n\nHe walked in the direction whence they proceeded, and stretched out\nhis hands in the obscurity to assist the person who was descending the\nstairs. In his soul there reigned an exalted and profound tenderness,\nbut--why seek to deny it--mingling with this tender feeling, there\nsuddenly arose within him, like an infernal inspiration, another\nsentiment, a fierce desire for revenge. The steps continued to descend,\ncoming nearer and nearer. Pepe Rey went forward, and a pair of hands,\ngroping in the darkness, came in contact with his own. The two pairs of\nhands were united in a close clasp.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII\n\nLIGHT IN THE DARKNESS\n\nThe hall was long and broad. At one end of it was the door of the room\noccupied by the engineer, in the centre that of the dining-room, and at\nthe other end were the staircase and a large closed door reached by a\nstep. This door opened into a chapel in which the Polentinos performed\ntheir domestic devotions. Occasionally the holy sacrifice of the mass\nwas celebrated in it.\n\nRosario led her cousin to the door of the chapel and then sank down on\nthe doorstep.\n\n\u201cHere?\u201d murmured Pepe Rey.\n\nFrom the movements of Rosarito\u2019s right hand he comprehended that she was\nblessing herself.\n\n\u201cRosario, dear cousin, thanks for allowing me to see you!\u201d he exclaimed,\nembracing her ardently.\n\nHe felt the girl\u2019s cold fingers on his lips, imposing silence. He kissed\nthem rapturously.\n\n\u201cYou are frozen. Rosario, why do you tremble so?\u201d\n\nHer teeth were chattering, and her whole frame trembled convulsively.\nRey felt the burning heat of his cousin\u2019s face against his own, and he\ncried in alarm:\n\n\u201cYour forehead is burning! You are feverish.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you really ill?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you have left your room----\u201d\n\n\u201cTo see you.\u201d\n\nThe engineer wrapped his arms around her to protect her from the cold,\nbut it was not enough.\n\n\u201cWait,\u201d he said quickly, rising. \u201cI am going to my room to bring my\ntravelling rug.\u201d\n\n\u201cPut out the light, Pepe.\u201d\n\nRey had left the lamp burning in his room, through the door of which\nissued a faint streak of light, illuminating the hall. He returned in an\ninstant. The darkness was now profound. Groping his way along the wall\nhe reached the spot where his cousin was sitting, and wrapped the rug\ncarefully around her.\n\n\u201cYou are comfortable now, my child.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, so comfortable! With you!\u201d\n\n\u201cWith me--and forever!\u201d exclaimed the young man, with exaltation.\n\nBut he observed that she was releasing herself from his arms and was\nrising.\n\n\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d\n\nA metallic sound was heard. Rosario had put the key into the invisible\nlock and was cautiously opening the door on the threshold of which they\nhad been sitting. The faint odor of dampness, peculiar to rooms that\nhave been long shut up, issued from the place, which was as dark as a\ntomb. Pepe Rey felt himself being guided by the hand, and his cousin\u2019s\nvoice said faintly:\n\n\u201cEnter!\u201d\n\nThey took a few steps forward. He imagined himself being led to an\nunknown Elysium by the angel of night. Rosario groped her way. At last\nher sweet voice sounded again, murmuring:\n\n\u201cSit down.\u201d\n\nThey were beside a wooden bench. Both sat down. Pepe Rey embraced\nRosario again. As he did so, his head struck against a hard body.\n\n\u201cWhat is this?\u201d he asked.\n\n\u201cThe feet.\u201d\n\n\u201cRosario--what are you saying?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe feet of the Divine Jesus, of the image of Christ crucified, that we\nadore in my house.\u201d\n\nPepe Rey felt a cold chill strike through him.\n\n\u201cKiss them,\u201d said the young girl imperiously.\n\nThe mathematician kissed the cold feet of the holy image.\n\n\u201cPepe,\u201d then cried the young girl, pressing her cousin\u2019s hand ardently\nbetween her own, \u201cdo you believe in God?\u201d\n\n\u201cRosario! What are you saying? What absurdities are you imagining?\u201d\n responded her cousin, perplexed.\n\n\u201cAnswer me.\u201d\n\nPepe Rey felt drops of moisture on his hands.\n\n\u201cWhy are you crying?\u201d he said, greatly disturbed. \u201cRosario, you are\nkilling me with your absurd doubts. Do I believe in God? Do you doubt\nit?\u201d\n\n\u201cI do not doubt it; but they all say that you are an atheist.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou would suffer in my estimation, you would lose your aureole of\npurity--your charm--if you gave credit to such nonsense.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen I heard them accuse you of being an atheist, although I could\nbring no proof to the contrary, I protested from the depths of my soul\nagainst such a calumny. You cannot be an atheist. I have within me as\nstrong and deep a conviction of your faith as of my own.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow wisely you speak! Why, then, do you ask me if I believe in God?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause I wanted to hear it from your own lips, and rejoice in hearing\nyou say it. It is so long since I have heard the sound of your voice!\nWhat greater happiness than to hear it again, saying: \u2018I believe in\nGod?\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cRosario, even the wicked believe in him. If there be atheists, which I\ndoubt, they are the calumniators, the intriguers with whom the world is\ninfested. For my part, intrigues and calumnies matter little to me; and\nif you rise superior to them and close your heart against the discord\nwhich a perfidious hand would sow in it, nothing shall interfere with\nour happiness.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what is going on around us? Pepe, dear Pepe, do you believe in the\ndevil?\u201d\n\nThe engineer was silent. The darkness of the chapel prevented Rosario\nfrom seeing the smile with which her cousin received this strange\nquestion.\n\n\u201cWe must believe in him,\u201d he said at last.\n\n\u201cWhat is going on? Mamma forbids me to see you; but, except in regard\nto the atheism, she does not say any thing against you. She tells me to\nwait, that you will decide; that you are going away, that you are coming\nback----Speak to me with frankness--have you formed a bad opinion of my\nmother?\u201d\n\n\u201cNot at all,\u201d replied Rey, urged by a feeling of delicacy.\n\n\u201cDo you not believe, as I do, that she loves us both, that she desires\nonly our good, and that we shall in the end obtain her consent to our\nwishes?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you believe it, I do too. Your mama adores us both. But, dear\nRosario, it must be confessed that the devil has entered this house.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t jest!\u201d she said affectionately. \u201cAh! Mamma is very good. She has\nnot once said to me that you were unworthy to be my husband. All she\ninsists upon is the atheism. They say, besides, that I have manias, and\nthat I have the mania now of loving you with all my soul. In our family\nit is a rule not to oppose directly the manias that are hereditary in\nit, because to oppose them aggravates them.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I believe that there are skilful physicians at your side who\nhave determined to cure you, and who will, in the end, my adored girl,\nsucceed in doing so.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no; a thousand times no!\u201d exclaimed Rosario, leaning her forehead\non her lover\u2019s breast. \u201cI am willing to be mad if I am with you. For\nyou I am suffering, for you I am ill; for you I despise life and I risk\ndeath. I know it now--to-morrow I shall be worse, I shall be dangerously\nill, I shall die. What does it matter to me?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are not ill,\u201d he responded, with energy; \u201cthere is nothing the\nmatter with you but an agitation of mind which naturally brings with it\nsome slight nervous disturbances; there is nothing the matter with you\nbut the suffering occasioned by the horrible coercion which they are\nusing with you. Your simple and generous soul does not comprehend it.\nYou yield; you forgive those who injure you; you torment yourself,\nattributing your suffering to baleful, supernatural influences; you\nsuffer in silence; you give your innocent neck to the executioner, you\nallow yourself to be slain, and the very knife which is plunged into\nyour breast seems to you the thorn of a flower that has pierced you in\npassing. Rosario, cast those ideas from your mind; consider our real\nsituation, which is serious; seek its cause where it really is, and\ndo not give way to your fears; do not yield to the tortures which are\ninflicted upon you, making yourself mentally and physically ill. The\ncourage which you lack would restore you to health, because you are not\nreally ill, my dear girl, you are--do you wish me to say it?--you are\nfrightened, terrified. You are under what the ancients, not knowing how\nto express it, called an evil spell. Courage, Rosario, trust in me! Rise\nand follow me. That is all I will say.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, Pepe--cousin! I believe that you are right,\u201d exclaimed Rosario,\ndrowned in tears. \u201cYour words resound within my heart, arousing in it\nnew energy, new life. Here in this darkness, where we cannot see each\nother\u2019s faces, an ineffable light emanates from you and inundates my\nsoul. What power have you to transform me in this way? The moment I\nsaw you I became another being. In the days when I did not see you I\nreturned to my former insignificance, my natural cowardice. Without you,\nmy Pepe, I live in Limbo. I will do as you tell me, I will arise and\nfollow you. We will go together wherever you wish. Do you know that I\nfeel well? Do you know that I have no fever: that I have recovered my\nstrength; that I want to run about and cry out; that my whole being is\nrenewed and enlarged, and multiplied a hundred-fold in order to adore\nyou? Pepe, you are right. I am not sick, I am only afraid; or rather,\nbewitched.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is it, bewitched.\u201d\n\n\u201cBewitched! Terrible eyes look at me, and I remain mute and trembling.\nI am afraid, but of what? You alone have the strange power of calling me\nback to life. Hearing you, I live again. I believe if I were to die and\nyou were to pass by my grave, that deep under the ground I should feel\nyour footsteps. Oh, if I could see you now! But you are here beside me,\nand I cannot doubt that it is you. So many days without seeing you! I\nwas mad. Each day of solitude appeared to me a century. They said to\nme, to-morrow and to-morrow, and always to-morrow. I looked out of\nthe window at night, and the light of the lamp in your room served\nto console me. At times your shadow on the window was for me a divine\napparition. I stretched out my arms to you, I shed tears and cried out\ninwardly, without daring to do so with my voice. When I received the\nmessage you sent me with the maid, when I received your letter telling\nme that you were going away, I grew very sad, I thought my soul was\nleaving my body and that I was dying slowly. I fell, like the bird\nwounded as it flies, that falls and, falling, dies. To-night, when I\nsaw that you were awake so late, I could not resist the longing I had to\nspeak to you; and I came down stairs. I believe that all the courage of\nmy life has been used up in this single act, and that now I can never\nbe any thing again but a coward. But you will give me courage; you will\ngive me strength; you will help me, will you not? Pepe, my dear cousin,\ntell me that you will; tell me that I am strong, and I will be strong;\ntell me that I am not ill, and I will not be ill. I am not ill now. I\nfeel so well that I could laugh at my ridiculous maladies.\u201d\n\nAs she said this she felt herself clasped rapturously in her cousin\u2019s\narms. An \u201cOh!\u201d was heard, but it came, not from her lips, but from his,\nfor in bending his head, he had struck it violently against the feet of\nthe crucifix. In the darkness it is that the stars are seen.\n\nIn the exalted state of his mind, by a species of hallucination natural\nin the darkness, it seemed to Pepe Rey not that his head had struck\nagainst the sacred foot, but that this had moved, warning him in the\nbriefest and most eloquent manner. Raising his head he said, half\nseriously, half gayly:\n\n\u201cLord, do not strike me; I will do nothing wrong.\u201d\n\nAt the same moment Rosario took the young man\u2019s hand and pressed it\nagainst her heart. A voice was heard, a pure, grave, angelic voice, full\nof feeling, saying:\n\n\u201cLord whom I adore, Lord God of the world, and guardian of my house and\nof my family; Lord whom Pepe also adores; holy and blessed Christ who\ndied on the cross for our sins; before thee, before thy wounded body,\nbefore thy forehead crowned with thorns, I say that this man is my\nhusband, and that, after thee, he is the being whom my heart loves most;\nI say that I declare him to be my husband, and that I will die before\nI belong to another. My heart and my soul are his. Let not the world\noppose our happiness, and grant me the favor of this union, which I\nswear to be true and good before the world, as it is in my conscience.\u201d\n\n\u201cRosario, you are mine!\u201d exclaimed Pepe Rey, with exaltation. \u201cNeither\nyour mother nor any one else shall prevent it.\u201d\n\nRosario sank powerless into her cousin\u2019s arms. She trembled in his manly\nembrace, as the dove trembles in the talons of the eagle.\n\nThrough the engineer\u2019s mind the thought flashed that the devil existed;\nbut the devil then was he. Rosario made a slight movement of fear; she\nfelt the thrill of surprise, so to say, that gives warning that danger\nis near.\n\n\u201cSwear to me that you will not yield to them,\u201d said Pepe Rey, with\nconfusion, observing the movement.\n\n\u201cI swear it to you by my father\u2019s ashes that are--\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere?\u201d\n\n\u201cUnder our feet.\u201d\n\nThe mathematician felt the stone rise under his feet--but no, it was not\nrising; he only fancied, mathematician though he was, that he felt it\nrise.\n\n\u201cI swear it to you,\u201d repeated Rosario, \u201cby my father\u2019s ashes, and by the\nGod who is looking at us----May our bodies, united as they are, repose\nunder those stones when God wills to take us out of this world.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes,\u201d repeated the Pepe Rey, with profound emotion, feeling his soul\nfilled with an inexplicable trouble.\n\nBoth remained silent for a short time. Rosario had risen.\n\n\u201cAlready?\u201d he said.\n\nShe sat down again.\n\n\u201cYou are trembling again,\u201d said Pepe. \u201cRosario, you are ill; your\nforehead is burning.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think I am dying,\u201d murmured the young girl faintly. \u201cI don\u2019t know\nwhat is the matter with me.\u201d\n\nShe fell senseless into her cousin\u2019s arms. Caressing her, he noticed\nthat her face was covered with a cold perspiration.\n\n\u201cShe is really ill,\u201d he said to himself. \u201cIt was a piece of great\nimprudence to have come down stairs.\u201d\n\nHe lifted her up in his arms, endeavoring to restore her to\nconsciousness, but neither the trembling that had seized her nor her\ninsensibility passed away; and he resolved to carry her out of the\nchapel, in the hope that the fresh air would revive her. And so it was.\nWhen she recovered consciousness Rosario manifested great disquietude\nat finding herself at such an hour out of her own room. The clock of the\ncathedral struck four.\n\n\u201cHow late it is!\u201d exclaimed the young girl. \u201cRelease me, cousin. I think\nI can walk. I am really very ill.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will go upstairs with you.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, no; on no account! I would rather drag myself to my room on my\nhands and feet. Don\u2019t you hear a noise?\u201d\n\nBoth were silent. The anxiety with which they listened made the silence\nintense.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you hear any thing, Pepe?\u201d\n\n\u201cAbsolutely nothing.\u201d\n\n\u201cPay attention. There, there it is again. It is a noise that sounds as\nif it might be either very, very distant, or very near. It might either\nbe my mother\u2019s breathing or the creaking of the vane on the tower of the\ncathedral. Ah! I have a very fine ear.\u201d\n\n\u201cToo fine! Well, dear cousin, I will carry you upstairs in my arms.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well; carry me to the head of the stairs. Afterward I can go\nalone. As soon as I rest a little I shall be as well as ever. But don\u2019t\nyou hear?\u201d\n\nThey stopped on the first step.\n\n\u201cIt is a metallic sound.\u201d\n\n\u201cYour mother\u2019s breathing?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, it is not that. The noise comes from a great distance. Perhaps it\nis the crowing of a cock?\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps so.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt sounds like the words, \u2018I am going there, I am going there!\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, now I hear,\u201d murmured Pepe Rey.\n\n\u201cIt is a cry.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a cornet.\u201d\n\n\u201cA cornet!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes. Let us hurry. Orbajosa is going to wake up. Now I hear it clearly.\nIt is not a trumpet but a clarionet. The soldiers are coming.\u201d\n\n\u201cSoldiers!\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know why I imagine that this military invasion is going to be\nadvantageous to me. I feel glad. Up, quickly, Rosario!\u201d\n\n\u201cI feel glad, too. Up, up!\u201d\n\nIn an instant he had carried her upstairs, and the lovers took a\nwhispered leave of each other.\n\n\u201cI will stand at the window overlooking the garden, so that you may know\nI have reached my room safely. Good-by.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood-by, Rosario. Take care not to stumble against the furniture.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can find my way here perfectly, cousin. We shall soon see each\nother again. Stand at your window if you wish to receive my telegraphic\ndespatch.\u201d\n\nPepe Rey did as he was bade; but he waited a long time, and Rosario did\nnot appear at the window. The engineer fancied he heard agitated voices\non the floor above him.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII\n\nTHE SOLDIERS\n\nThe inhabitants of Orbajosa heard in the twilight vagueness of their\nmorning slumbers the same sonorous clarionet, and they opened their\neyes, saying:\n\n\u201cThe soldiers!\u201d\n\nSome murmured to themselves between sleeping and waking:\n\n\u201cAt last they have sent us that rabble.\u201d\n\nOthers got out of bed hastily, growling:\n\n\u201cLet us go take a look at those confounded soldiers.\u201d\n\nSome soliloquized in this way:\n\n\u201cIt will be necessary to hurry up matters. They say drafts and\ncontributions; we will say blows and more blows.\u201d\n\nIn another house were heard these words uttered joyfully:\n\n\u201cPerhaps my son is coming! Perhaps my brother is coming!\u201d\n\nEverywhere people were springing out of bed, dressing hastily, opening\nthe windows to see the regiment that caused all this excitement entering\nthe city in the early dawn. The city was gloom, silence, age; the army\ngayety, boisterousness, youth. As the army entered the city it seemed as\nif the mummy received by some magic art the gift of life and sprang\nwith noisy gayety from its damp sarcophagus to dance around it. What\nmovement, what shouting, what laughter, what merriment! There is nothing\nso interesting as a regiment. It is our country in its youthful and\nvigorous aspect. All the ineptitude, the turbulence, the superstition\nat times, and at times the impiety of the country as represented in the\nindividual, disappears under the iron rule of discipline, which of so\nmany insignificant figures makes an imposing whole. The soldier, or so\nto say, the corpuscle, separating at the command \u201cBreak ranks!\u201d from\nthe mass in which he has led a regular and at times a sublime life,\noccasionally preserves some of the qualities peculiar to the army. But\nthis is not the general rule. The separation is most often accompanied\nby a sudden deterioration, with the result that if an army is the glory\nand honor of a nation, an assemblage of soldiers may be an insupportable\ncalamity; and the towns that shed tears of joy and enthusiasm when they\nsee a victorious battalion enter their precincts, groan with terror and\ntremble with apprehension when they see the same soldiers separate and\noff duty.\n\nThis last was what happened in Orbajosa, for in those days there were\nno glorious deeds to celebrate, nor was there any motive for weaving\nwreaths or tracing triumphal inscriptions, or even for making mention\nof the exploits of our brave soldiers, for which reason all was fear\nand suspicion in the episcopal city, which, although poor, did not lack\ntreasures in chickens, fruits, money, and maidenhood, all of which\nran great risk from the moment when the before-mentioned sons of Mars\nentered it. In addition to this, the native town of Polentinos, as a\ncity remote from the movement and stir brought with them by traffic, the\nnewspapers, railroads, and other agents which it is unnecessary now to\nspecify, did not wish to be disturbed in its tranquil existence.\n\nBesides which, it manifested on every favorable occasion a strong\naversion to submitting to the central authority which, badly or well,\ngoverns us; and calling to mind its former privileges and ruminating\nupon them anew, as the camel chews the cud of the grass which it\nate yesterday, it would occasionally display a certain rebellious\nindependence, and vicious tendencies much to be deplored, which at times\ngave no little anxiety to the governor of the province.\n\nIt must also be taken into account that Orbajosa had rebellious\nantecedents, or rather ancestry. Doubtless it still retained some\nof those energetic fibres which, in remote ages, according to the\nenthusiastic opinion of Don Cayetano, impelled it to unexampled epic\ndeeds; and, even in its decadence, occasionally felt an eager desire to\ndo great things, although they might be only barbarities and follies.\nAs it had given to the world so many illustrious sons, it desired,\nno doubt, that its actual scions, the Caballucos, Merengues, and\nPelosmalos, should renew the glorious _Gesta_ of their predecessors.\n\nWhenever there was disaffection in Spain, Orbajosa gave proof that it\nwas not in vain that it existed on the face of the earth, although it\nis true that it was never the theatre of a real war. The spirit of the\ntown, its situation, its history, all reduced it to the secondary part\nof raising guerillas. It bestowed upon the country this national product\nin 1827, at the time of the Apostolics, during the Seven Years\u2019 War, in\n1848, and at other epochs of less resonance in the national history. The\nguerillas and their chiefs were always popular, a fatal circumstance due\nto the War of Independence, one of those good things which have been\nthe origin of an infinite number of detestable things. _Corruptio optimi\npessima_. And with the popularity of the guerillas and their chiefs\ncoincided, in ever-increasing proportion, the unpopularity of every one\nwho entered Orbajosa in the character of a delegate or instrument of\nthe central power. The soldiers were held in such disrepute there that,\nwhenever the old people told of any crime, any robbery, assassination,\nor the like atrocity, they added: \u201cThis happened when the soldiers were\nhere.\u201d\n\nAnd now that these important observations have been made, it will be\nwell to add that the battalions sent there during the days in which the\nevents of our story took place did not go to parade through the streets,\nbut for another purpose which will be clearly and minutely set forth\nlater on. As a detail of no little interest, it may be noted that the\nevents here related took place at a period neither very remote nor very\nrecent. It may also be said that Orbajosa (called by the Romans Urbs\nAugusta, although some learned moderns, enquiring into the etymology of\nthe termination _ajosa_[*] are of the opinion that it comes by it from\nbeing the richest garlic-growing country in the world) is neither very\nnear Madrid nor very far from it; nor can we say whether its glorious\nfoundations are laid toward the north or toward the south, toward the\neast or toward the west; but that it may be supposed to be in any part\nof Spain where the pungent odor of its garlic is to be perceived.\n\n     [*] Rich in garlic.\n\nThe billets of residence being distributed by the authorities, each\nsoldier went to seek his borrowed home. They were received by\ntheir hosts with a very ill grace and assigned the most atrociously\nuninhabitable parts of the houses. The girls of the city were not indeed\namong those who were most dissatisfied, but a strict watch was kept over\nthem, and it was considered not decent to show pleasure at the visit of\nsuch rabble. The few soldiers who were natives of the district only were\ntreated like kings. The others were regarded as invaders.\n\nAt eight in the morning a lieutenant-colonel of cavalry entered the\nhouse of Do\u00f1a Perfecta Polentinos with his billet. He was received by\nthe servants, by order of its mistress, who, being at the time in a\ndeplorable state of mind, did not wish to go down stairs to meet the\nsoldier, and by them he was shown to the only room in the house which,\nit seemed, was disposable, the room occupied by Pepe Rey.\n\n\u201cLet them settle themselves as best they can,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, with\nan expression of gall and vinegar. \u201cAnd if they have not room enough,\nlet them go into the street.\u201d\n\nWas it her intention to annoy in this way her detested nephew, or was\nthere really no other unoccupied room in the house? This we do not know,\nnor do the chronicles from which this true history is taken say a word\non this important point. What we know positively is that, far from\ndispleasing the two guests to be thus boxed up together, it gave them\ngreat pleasure, as they happened to be old friends. They were greatly\nsurprised and delighted when they met, and they were never tired of\nasking each other questions and uttering exclamations, dwelling on the\nstrange chance that had brought them together in such a place and on\nsuch an occasion.\n\n\u201cPinzon--you here! Why, what is this? I had no suspicion that you were\nin this neighborhood.\u201d\n\n\u201cI heard that you were in this part of the country, Pepe; but I had no\nidea, either, that I should meet you in this horrible, this barbarous\nOrbajosa.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut what a fortunate chance! For this chance is most\nfortunate--providential. Pinzon, between us both we are going to do a\ngreat thing in this wretched town.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd we shall have time enough to consult about it,\u201d answered the other,\nseating himself on the bed in which the engineer was lying, \u201cfor it\nappears that we are both to occupy this room. What the devil sort of a\nhouse is this?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, man, it is my aunt\u2019s. Speak with more respect about it. Have you\nnot met my aunt? But I am going to get up.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am very glad of it, for then I can lie down and rest; and badly I\nneed it. What a road, friend Pepe, what a road, and what a town!\u201d\n\n\u201cTell me, have you come to set fire to Orbajosa?\u201d\n\n\u201cFire!\u201d\n\n\u201cI ask you because, in that case, I might help you.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a town! But what a town!\u201d exclaimed the soldier, removing his\nshako, and laying aside sword and shoulder-belt, travelling case and\ncloak. \u201cThis is the second time they have sent us here. I swear to you\nthat the third time I will ask my discharge.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t talk ill of these good people! But you have come in the nick of\ntime. It seems as if Providence has sent you to my aid, Pinzon. I have a\nterrible project on hand, an adventure,--a plot, if you wish to call\nit so, my friend,--and it would have been difficult for me to carry\nit through without you. A moment ago I was in despair, wondering how I\nshould manage, and saying to myself anxiously, \u2018If I only had a friend\nhere, a good friend!\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cA project, a plot, an adventure! One of two things, Se\u00f1or\nMathematician: it is either the discovery of aerial navigation, or else\nsome love affair.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is serious, very serious. Go to bed, sleep a while, and afterward we\nwill talk about it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will go to bed, but I will not sleep. You may say all you wish to\nme. All that I ask is that you will say as little as possible about\nOrbajosa.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is precisely about Orbajosa that I wish to speak to you. But have\nyou also an antipathy to this cradle of illustrious men?\u201d\n\n\u201cThese garlic-venders--we call them the garlic-venders--may be as\nillustrious as you choose, but to me they are as irritating as the\nproduct of the country. This is a town ruled by people who teach\ndistrust, superstition, and hatred of the whole human race. When we have\nleisure I will relate to you an occurrence--an adventure, half-comic,\nhalf-tragic--that happened to me here last year. When I tell it to you,\nyou will laugh and I shall be fuming. But, in fine, what is past is\npast.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn what is happening to me there is nothing comic.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I have various reasons for hating this wretched place. You must\nknow that my father was assassinated here in \u201848 by a party of barbarous\nguerillas. He was a brigadier, and he had left the service. The\nGovernment sent for him, and he was passing through Villahorrenda on his\nway to Madrid, when he was captured by half a dozen ruffians. Here there\nare several dynasties of guerilla chiefs--the Aceros, the Caballucos,\nthe Pelosmalos--a periodical eruption, as some one has said who knew\nvery well what he was talking about.\u201d\n\n\u201cI suppose that two infantry regiments and some cavalry have not come\nhere solely for the pleasure of visiting these delightful regions.\u201d\n\n\u201cCertainly not! We have come to survey the country. There are many\ndeposits of arms here. The Government does not venture, as it desires,\nto remove from office the greater number of the municipal councils\nwithout first distributing a few companies of soldiers through these\ntowns. As there is so much disturbance in this part of the country,\nas two of the neighboring provinces are already infested, and as this\nmunicipal district of Orbajosa has, besides, so brilliant a record in\nall the civil wars, there are fears that the bravos of the place may\ntake to the roads and rob all they can lay hands on.\u201d\n\n\u201cA good precaution! But I am firmly convinced that not until these\npeople die and are born over again, not until the very stones have\nchanged their form, will there be peace in Orbajosa.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is my opinion too,\u201d said the officer, lighting a cigarette. \u201cDon\u2019t\nyou see that the guerilla chiefs are the pets of this place? Those who\ndesolated the district in 1848 and at other epochs, or, if not they,\ntheir sons, are employed in the market inspector\u2019s office, at the town\ngates, in the town-hall, in the post-office; among them are constables,\nsacristans, bailiffs. Some have become powerful party leaders and they\nare the ones who manage the elections, have influence in Madrid, bestow\nplaces--in short, this is terrible.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd tell me, is there no hope of the guerilla chiefs performing some\nexploit in these days? If that should happen, you could destroy the\ntown, and I would help you.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf it depended upon me----They will play their usual pranks no doubt,\u201d\n said Pinzon, \u201cfor the insurrection in the two neighboring provinces is\nspreading like wildfire. And between ourselves, friend Rey, I think\nthis is going to last for a long time. Some people smile and say that it\nwould be impossible that there should be another insurrection like the\nlast one. They don\u2019t know the country; they don\u2019t know Orbajosa and\nits inhabitants. I believe that the war that is now beginning will have\nserious consequences, and that we shall have another cruel and bloody\nstruggle, that will last Heaven knows how long. What is your opinion?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, in Madrid I laughed at any one who spoke of the possibility of a\ncivil war as long and as terrible as the Seven Years\u2019 War; but since I\nhave been here----\u201d\n\n\u201cOne must come to the heart of this enchanting country, see the people\nat home, and hear them talk, to know what the real state of affairs is.\u201d\n\n\u201cJust so. Without knowing precisely on what I base my opinion, the fact\nis that here I see things in a different light, and I now believe that\nit is possible that there may be a long and bloody war.\u201d\n\n\u201cExactly so.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut at present my thoughts are occupied less by the public war than by\na private war in which I am engaged and which I declared a short time\nago.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou said this was your aunt\u2019s house. What is her name?\u201d\n\n\u201cDo\u00f1a Perfecta Rey de Polentinos.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh! I know her by reputation. She is an excellent person, and the only\none of whom I have not heard the garlic-venders speak ill. When I was\nhere before I heard her goodness, her charity, her innumerable virtues,\neverywhere extolled.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, my aunt is very kind, very amiable,\u201d said Rey.\n\nThen he fell into a thoughtful silence.\n\n\u201cBut now I remember!\u201d exclaimed Pinzon suddenly. \u201cHow one thing fits in\nwith another! Yes, I heard in Madrid that you were going to be married\nto a cousin of yours. All is clear now. Is it that beautiful and\nheavenly Rosario?\u201d\n\n\u201cPinzon, we must have a long talk together.\u201d\n\n\u201cI imagine that there are difficulties.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is something more; there is violent opposition. I have need of a\ndetermined friend--a friend who is prompt to act, fruitful in resource,\nof great experience in emergencies, astute and courageous.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, this is even more serious than a challenge.\u201d\n\n\u201cA great deal more serious. It would be easy to fight with another man.\nWith women, with unseen enemies who work in the dark, it is impossible.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, I am all ears.\u201d\n\nLieutenant-colonel Pinzon lay stretched at full length upon the bed.\nPepe Rey drew a chair up to the bedside and, leaning his elbow on\nthe bed and his head on his hand, began his conference, consultation,\nexposition of plan, or whatever else it might be called, and continued\ntalking for a long time. Pinzon listened to him with profound attention\nand without interrupting him, except to ask an occasional question for\nthe purpose of obtaining further details or additional light upon some\nobscure point. When Pepe Rey ended, Pinzon looked grave. He stretched\nhimself, yawning with the satisfaction of one who has not slept for\nthree nights, and then said:\n\n\u201cYou plan is dangerous and difficult.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut not impossible.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, no! for nothing is impossible. Reflect well about it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have reflected.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you are resolved to carry it through? Consider that these things\nare not now in fashion. They generally turn out badly and throw\ndiscredit on those who undertake them.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am resolved.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor my part, then, although the business is dangerous and serious--very\nserious--I am ready to aid you in all things and for all things.\u201d\n\n\u201cCan I rely upon you?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the death.\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX\n\nA TERRIBLE BATTLE-STRATEGY\n\nThe opening of hostilities could not long be delayed. When the hour of\ndinner arrived, after coming to an agreement with Pinzon regarding the\nplan to be pursued, the first condition of which was that the friends\nshould pretend not to know each other, Pepe Rey went to the dining-room.\nThere he found his aunt, who had just returned from the cathedral where\nshe had spent the morning as was her habit. She was alone, and appeared\nto be greatly preoccupied. The engineer observed that on that pale and\nmarble-like countenance, not without a certain beauty, there rested\na mysterious shadow. When she looked up it recovered its sinister\ncalmness, but she looked up seldom, and after a rapid examination of her\nnephew\u2019s countenance, that of the amiable lady would again take on its\nstudied gloom.\n\nThey awaited dinner in silence. They did not wait for Don Cayetano, for\nhe had gone to Mundogrande. When they sat down to table Do\u00f1a Perfecta\nsaid:\n\n\u201cAnd that fine soldier whom the Government has sent us, is he not coming\nto dinner?\u201d\n\n\u201cHe seems to be more sleepy than hungry,\u201d answered the engineer, without\nlooking at his aunt.\n\n\u201cDo you know him?\u201d\n\n\u201cI have never seen him in all my life before.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe are nicely off with the guests whom the Government sends us. We have\nbeds and provisions in order to keep them ready for those vagabonds of\nMadrid, whenever they may choose to dispose of them.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere are fears of an insurrection,\u201d said Pepe Rey, with sudden heat,\n\u201cand the Government is determined to crush the Orbajosans--to crush\nthem, to grind them to powder.\u201d\n\n\u201cStop, man, stop, for Heaven\u2019s sake; don\u2019t crush us!\u201d cried Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta sarcastically. \u201cPoor we! Be merciful, man, and allow us unhappy\ncreatures to live. And would you, then, be one of those who would aid\nthe army in the grand work of crushing us?\u201d\n\n\u201cI am not a soldier. I will do nothing but applaud when I see the germs\nof civil war; of insubordination, of discord, of disorder, of robbery,\nand of barbarism that exist here, to the shame of our times and of our\ncountry, forever extirpated.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll will be as God wills.\u201d\n\n\u201cOrbajosa, my dear aunt, has little else than garlic and bandits; for\nthose who in the name of some political or religious idea set out in\nsearch of adventures every four or five years are nothing but bandits.\u201d\n\n\u201cThanks, thanks, my dear nephew!\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, turning pale. \u201cSo\nOrbajosa has nothing more than that? Yet there must be something else\nhere--something that you do not possess, since you have come to look for\nit among us.\u201d\n\nRey felt the cut. His soul was on fire. He found it very difficult to\nshow his aunt the consideration to which her sex, her rank, and her\nrelation to himself entitled her. He was on the verge of a violent\noutbreak, and a force that he could not resist was impelling him against\nhis interlocutor.\n\n\u201cI came to Orbajosa,\u201d he said, \u201cbecause you sent for me; you arranged\nwith my father--\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, yes; it is true,\u201d she answered, interrupting him quickly and\nmaking an effort to recover her habitual serenity. \u201cI do not deny it. I\nam the one who is really to blame. I am to blame for your ill-humor, for\nthe slights you put upon us, for every thing disagreeable that has been\nhappening in my house since you entered it.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am glad that you are conscious of it.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn exchange, you are a saint. Must I also go down on my knees to your\ngrace and ask your pardon?\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1ora,\u201d said Pepe Rey gravely, laying down his knife and fork, \u201cI\nentreat you not to mock me in so pitiless a manner. I cannot meet you\non equal ground. All I have said is that I came to Orbajosa at your\ninvitation.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd it is true. Your father and I arranged that you should marry\nRosario. You came in order to become acquainted with her. I accepted you\nat once as a son. You pretended to love Rosario--\u201d\n\n\u201cPardon me,\u201d objected Pepe; \u201cI loved and I love Rosario; you pretended\nto accept me as a son; receiving me with deceitful cordiality, you\nemployed from the very beginning all the arts of cunning to thwart me\nand to prevent the fulfilment of the proposals made to my father; you\ndetermined from the first day to drive me to desperation, to tire me\nout; and with smiles and affectionate words on your lips you have been\nkilling me, roasting me at the slow fire; you have let loose upon me\nin the dark and from behind an ambush a swarm of lawsuits; you have\ndeprived me of the official commission which I brought to Orbajosa; you\nhave brought me into disrepute in the town; you have had me turned out\nof the cathedral; you have kept me constantly separated from the chosen\nof my heart; you have tortured your daughter with an inquisitorial\nimprisonment which will cause her death, unless God interposes to\nprevent it.\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta turned scarlet. But the flush of offended pride passed\naway quickly, leaving her face of a greenish pallor. Her lips trembled.\nThrowing down the knife and fork with which she had been eating, she\nrose swiftly to her feet. Her nephew rose also.\n\n\u201cMy God! Holy Virgin of Succor!\u201d she cried, raising both her hands to\nher head and pressing it between them with the gesture indicative of\ndesperation, \u201cis it possible that I deserve such atrocious insults?\nPepe, my son, is it you who speak to me in this way? If I have done what\nyou say, I am indeed very wicked.\u201d\n\nShe sank on the sofa and covered her face with her hands. Pepe,\napproaching her slowly, saw that his aunt was sobbing bitterly and\nshedding abundant tears. In spite of his conviction he could not\naltogether conquer the feeling of compassion which took possession of\nhim; and while he condemned himself for his cowardice he felt something\nof remorse for the severity and the frankness with which he had spoken.\n\n\u201cMy dear aunt,\u201d he said, putting his hand on her shoulder, \u201cif you\nanswer me with tears and sighs, you will not convince me. Proofs, not\nemotions, are what I require. Speak to me, tell me that I am mistaken\nin thinking what I think; then prove it to me, and I will acknowledge my\nerror.\u201d\n\n\u201cLeave me, you are not my brother\u2019s son! If you were, you would not\ninsult me as you have insulted me. So, then, I am an intriguer, an\nactress, a hypocritical harpy, a domestic plotter?\u201d\n\nAs she spoke, Do\u00f1a Perfecta uncovered her face and looked at her nephew\nwith a martyr-like expression. Pepe was perplexed. The tears as well\nas the gentle voice of his father\u2019s sister could not be insignificant\nphenomena for the mathematician\u2019s soul. Words crowded to his lips to\nask her pardon. A man of great firmness generally, any appeal to his\nemotions, any thing which touched his heart, converted him at once into\na child. Weaknesses of a mathematician! It is said that Newton was the\nsame.\n\n\u201cI will give you the proofs you ask,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, motioning\nhim to a seat beside her. \u201cI will give you satisfaction. You shall see\nwhether I am kind, whether I am indulgent, whether I am humble. Do you\nthink that I am going to contradict you; to deny absolutely the acts of\nwhich you have accused me? Well, then, no; I do not deny them.\u201d\n\nThe engineer was astounded.\n\n\u201cI do not deny them,\u201d continued Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cWhat I deny is the evil\nintention which you attribute to them. By what right do you undertake to\njudge of what you know only from appearances and by conjecture? Have you\nthe supreme intelligence which is necessary to judge justly the actions\nof others and pronounce sentence upon them? Are you God, to know the\nintentions?\u201d\n\nPepe was every moment more amazed.\n\n\u201cIs it not allowable at times to employ indirect means to attain a good\nand honorable end? By what right do you judge actions of mine that you\ndo not clearly understand? I, my dear nephew, manifesting a sincerity\nwhich you do not deserve, confess to you that I have indeed employed\nsubterfuges to attain a good end, to attain what was at the same time\nbeneficial to you and to my daughter. You do not comprehend? You look\nbewildered. Ah! your great mathematician\u2019s and German philosopher\u2019s\nintellect is not capable of comprehending these artifices of a prudent\nmother.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am more and more astounded every moment,\u201d said the engineer.\n\n\u201cBe as astounded as you choose, but confess your barbarity,\u201d said the\nlady, with increasing spirit; \u201cacknowledge your hastiness and your\nbrutal conduct toward me in accusing me as you have done. You are a\nyoung man without any experience or any other knowledge than that which\nis derived from books, which teach nothing about the world or the\nhuman heart. All you know is how to make roads and docks. Ah, my young\ngentleman! one does not enter into the human heart through the tunnel of\na railroad, or descend into its depths through the shaft of a mine.\nYou cannot read in the conscience of another with the microscope of a\nnaturalist, nor decide the question of another\u2019s culpability measuring\nideas with a theodolite.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor God\u2019s sake, dear aunt!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy do you pronounce the name of God when you do not believe in him?\u201d\n said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, in solemn accents. \u201cIf you believed in him, if you\nwere a good Christian, you would not dare to form evil judgments about\nmy conduct. I am a devout woman, do you understand? I have a tranquil\nconscience, do you understand? I know what I am doing and why I do it,\ndo you understand?\u201d\n\n\u201cI understand, I understand, I understand!\u201d\n\n\u201cGod in whom you do not believe, sees what you do not see and what you\ncannot see--the intention. I will say no more; I do not wish to enter\ninto minute explanations, for I do not need to do so. Nor would you\nunderstand me if I should tell you that I desired to attain my object\nwithout scandal, without offending your father, without offending you,\nwithout giving cause for people to talk by an explicit refusal--I will\nsay nothing of all this to you, for you would not understand it, either,\nPepe. You are a mathematician. You see what is before your eyes, and\nnothing more; brute matter and nothing more. You see the effect, and not\nthe cause. God is the supreme intention of the world. He who does not\nknow this must necessarily judge things as you judge them--foolishly.\nIn the tempest, for instance, he sees only destruction; in the\nconflagration, ruin; in the drought, famine; in the earthquake,\ndesolation; and yet, arrogant young man, in all those apparent\ncalamities we are to seek the good intentions--yes, se\u00f1or, the\nintention, always good, of Him who can do nothing evil.\u201d\n\nThis confused, subtle, and mystic logic did not convince Pepe Rey; but\nhe did not wish to follow his aunt in the tortuous path of such a method\nof reasoning, and he said simply:\n\n\u201cWell, I respect intentions.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow that you seem to recognize your error,\u201d continued the pious lady,\nwith ever-increasing confidence, \u201cI will make another confession to you,\nand that is that I see now that I did wrong in adopting the course\nI did, although my object was excellent. In view of your impetuous\ndisposition, in view of your incapacity to comprehend me, I should have\nfaced the situation boldly and said to you, \u2018Nephew, I do not wish that\nyou should be my daughter\u2019s husband.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is the language you should have used to me from the beginning,\u201d\n said the engineer, drawing a deep breath, as if his mind had been\nrelieved from an enormous weight. \u201cI am greatly obliged to you for those\nwords. After having been stabbed in the dark, this blow on the face in\nthe light of day is a great satisfaction to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I will repeat the blow, nephew,\u201d declared Do\u00f1a Perfecta, with as\nmuch energy as displeasure. \u201cYou know it now--I do not wish you to marry\nRosario!\u201d\n\nPepe was silent. There was a long pause, during which the two regarded\neach other attentively, as if the face of each was for the other the\nmost perfect work of art.\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t you understand what I have said to you?\u201d she repeated. \u201cThat\nevery thing is at an end, that there is to be no marriage.\u201d\n\n\u201cPermit me, dear aunt,\u201d said the young man, with composure, \u201cnot to be\nterrified by the intimation. In the state at which things have arrived\nyour refusal has little importance for me.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat are you saying?\u201d cried Do\u00f1a Perfecta violently.\n\n\u201cWhat you hear. I will marry Rosario!\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta rose to her feet, indignant, majestic, terrible. Her\nattitude was that of anathema incarnated in a woman. Rey remained\nseated, serene, courageous, with the passive courage of a profound\nconviction and an immovable resolve. The whole weight of his aunt\u2019s\nwrath, threatening to overwhelm him, did not make him move an eyelash.\nThis was his character.\n\n\u201cYou are mad. Marry my daughter, you! Marry her against my will!\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s trembling lips articulated these words in a truly tragic\ntone.\n\n\u201cAgainst your will! She is of a different way of thinking.\u201d\n\n\u201cAgainst my will!\u201d repeated Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cYes, and I repeat it again\nand again. I do not wish it, I do not wish it!\u201d\n\n\u201cShe and I wish it.\u201d\n\n\u201cFool! Is nothing else in the world to be considered but her and you?\nAre there not parents; is there not society; is there not a conscience;\nis there not a God?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause there is society, because there is a conscience, because there\nis a God,\u201d affirmed Rey gravely, rising to his feet, and pointing with\noutstretched arm to the heavens, \u201cI say and I repeat that I will marry\nher.\u201d\n\n\u201cWretch! arrogant man! And if you would dare to trample every thing\nunder your feet, do you think there are not laws to prevent your\nviolence?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause there are laws, I say and I repeat that I will marry her.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou respect nothing!\u201d\n\n\u201cNothing that is unworthy of respect.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd my authority, my will, I--am I nothing?\u201d\n\n\u201cFor me your daughter is every thing--the rest is nothing.\u201d\n\nPepe Rey\u2019s composure was, so to say, the arrogant display of invincible\nand conscious strength. The blows he gave were hard and crushing in\ntheir force, without any thing to mitigate their severity. His words,\nif the comparison may be allowed, were like a pitiless discharge of\nartillery.\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta sank again on the sofa; but she shed no tears, and a\nconvulsive tremor agitated her frame.\n\n\u201cSo that for this infamous atheist,\u201d she exclaimed, with frank rage,\n\u201cthere are no social conventionalities, there is nothing but caprice.\nThis is base avarice. My daughter is rich!\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you think to wound me with that treacherous weapon, evading the\nquestion and giving a distorted meaning to my sentiments in order to\noffend my dignity, you are mistaken, dear aunt. Call me mercenary, if\nyou choose. God knows what I am.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have no dignity!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is an opinion, like any other. The world may hold you to be\ninfallible. I do not. I am far from believing that from your judgments\nthere is no appeal to God.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut is what you say true? But do you persist in your purpose, after my\nrefusal? You respect nothing, you are a monster, a bandit.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am a man.\u201d\n\n\u201cA wretch! Let us end this at once. I refuse to give my daughter to you;\nI refuse her to you!\u201d\n\n\u201cI will take her then! I shall take only what is mine.\u201d\n\n\u201cLeave my presence!\u201d exclaimed Do\u00f1a Perfecta, rising suddenly to her\nfeet. \u201cCoxcomb, do you suppose that my daughter thinks of you?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe loves me, as I love her.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a lie! It is a lie!\u201d\n\n\u201cShe herself has told me so. Excuse me if, on this point, I put more\nfaith in her words than in her mother\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow could she have told you so, when you have not seen her for several\ndays?\u201d\n\n\u201cI saw her last night, and she swore to me before the crucifix in the\nchapel that she would be my wife.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, scandal; oh, libertinism! But what is this? My God, what a\ndisgrace!\u201d exclaimed Do\u00f1a Perfecta, pressing her head again between\nher hands and walking up and down the room. \u201cRosario left her room last\nnight?\u201d\n\n\u201cShe left it to see me. It was time.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat vile conduct is yours! You have acted like a thief; you have acted\nlike a vulgar seducer!\u201d\n\n\u201cI have acted in accordance with the teachings of your school. My\nintention was good.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd she came down stairs! Ah, I suspected it! This morning at daybreak\nI surprised her, dressed, in her room. She told me she had gone out,\nI don\u2019t know for what. You were the real criminal, then. This is a\ndisgrace! Pepe, I expected any thing from you rather than an outrage\nlike this. Every thing is at an end! Go away! You are dead to me. I\nforgive you, provided you go away. I will not say a word about this to\nyour father. What horrible selfishness! No, there is no love in you. You\ndo not love my daughter!\u201d\n\n\u201cGod knows that I love her, and that is sufficient for me.\u201d\n\n\u201cBe silent, blasphemer! and don\u2019t take the name of God upon your lips!\u201d\n exclaimed Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cIn the name of God, whom I can invoke, for I\nbelieve in him, I tell you that my daughter will never be your wife. My\ndaughter will be saved, Pepe; my daughter shall not be condemned to a\nliving hell, for a union with you would be a hell!\u201d\n\n\u201cRosario will be my wife,\u201d repeated the mathematician, with pathetic\ncalmness.\n\nThe pious lady was still more exasperated by her nephew\u2019s calm energy.\nIn a broken voice she said:\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t suppose that your threats terrify me. I know what I am saying.\nWhat! are a home and a family to be outraged like this? Are human and\ndivine authority to be trampled under foot in this way?\u201d\n\n\u201cI will trample every thing under foot,\u201d said the engineer, beginning to\nlose his composure and speaking with some agitation.\n\n\u201cYou will trample every thing under foot! Ah! it is easy to see that you\nare a barbarian, a savage, a man who lives by violence.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, dear aunt; I am mild, upright, honorable, and an enemy to violence;\nbut between you and me--between you who are the law and I who am to\nhonor it--is a poor tormented creature, one of God\u2019s angels, subjected\nto iniquitous tortures. The spectacle of this injustice, this unheard-of\nviolence, is what has converted my rectitude into barbarity; my reason\ninto brute force; my honor into violence, like an assassin\u2019s or a\nthief\u2019s; this spectacle, se\u00f1ora, is what impels me to disregard your\nlaw, what impels me to trample it under foot, braving every thing. This\nwhich appears to you lawlessness is obedience to an unescapable law. I\ndo what society does when a brutal power, as illogical as irritating,\nopposes its progress. It tramples it under foot and destroys it in an\noutburst of frenzy. Such am I at this moment--I do not recognize myself.\nI was reasonable, and now I am a brute; I was respectful, and now I am\ninsolent; I was civilized, and now I am a savage. You have brought me to\nthis horrible extremity; infuriating me and driving me from the path of\nrectitude which I was tranquilly pursuing. Who is to blame--I or you?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou, you!\u201d\n\n\u201cNeither you nor I can decide the question. I think we are both to\nblame: you for your violence and injustice, I for my injustice and\nviolence. We have both become equally barbarous, and we struggle with\nand wound each other without compassion. God has permitted that it\nshould be so; my blood will be upon your conscience, yours will be upon\nmine. Enough now, se\u00f1ora. I do not wish to trouble you with useless\nwords. We will now proceed to acts.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo acts, very well!\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, roaring rather than speaking.\n\u201cDon\u2019t suppose that in Orbajosa there is no civil guard!\u201d\n\n\u201cGood-by, se\u00f1ora. I will now leave this house. I think we shall meet\nagain.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo, go! go now!\u201d she cried, pointing with an energetic gesture to the\ndoor.\n\nPepe Rey left the room. Do\u00f1a Perfecta, after pronouncing a few\nincoherent words, which were the clearest expression of her anger, sank\ninto a chair, with indications of fatigue, or of a coming attack of\nnerves. The maids came running in.\n\n\u201cGo for Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio!\u201d she cried. \u201cInstantly--hurry! Ask him to\ncome here!\u201d\n\nThen she tore her handkerchief with her teeth.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX\n\nRUMORS--FEARS\n\nOn the day following that of this lamentable quarrel, various rumors\nregarding Pepe Rey and his conduct spread through Orbajosa, going from\nhouse to house, from club to club, from the Casino to the apothecary\u2019s\nand from the Paseo de las Descalzes to the Puerta de Baidejos. They were\nrepeated by every body, and so many were the comments made that, if Don\nCayetano had collected and compiled them, he might have formed with\nthem a rich \u201cThesaurus\u201d of Orbajosan benevolence. In the midst of the\ndiversity of the reports circulated, there was agreement in regard to\ncertain important particulars, one of which was the following:\n\nThat the engineer, enraged at Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s refusal to marry Rosario\nto an atheist, had raised his hand to his aunt.\n\nThe young man was living in the widow De Cusco\u2019s hotel, an establishment\nmounted, as they say now, not at the height, but at the depth of the\nsuperlative backwardness of the town. Lieutenant-colonel Pinzon visited\nhim with frequency, in order that they might discuss together the plot\nwhich they had on hand, and for the successful conduct of which the\nsoldier showed the happiest dispositions. New artifices and stratagems\noccurred to him at every instant, and he hastened to put them into\neffect with excellent humor, although he would often say to his friend:\n\n\u201cThe role I am playing, dear Pepe, is not a very dignified one; but to\ngive an annoyance to the Orbajosans I would walk on my hands and feet.\u201d\n\nWe do not know what cunning stratagems the artful soldier, skilled in\nthe wiles of the world, employed; but certain it is that before he had\nbeen in the house three days he had succeeded in making himself greatly\nliked by every body in it. His manners were very pleasing to Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta, who could not hear unmoved his flattering praises of\nthe elegance of the house, and of the nobility, piety, and august\nmagnificence of its mistress. With Don Inocencio he was hand and glove.\nNeither her mother nor the Penitentiary placed any obstacle in the way\nof his speaking with Rosario (who had been restored to liberty on the\ndeparture of her ferocious cousin); and, with his delicate compliments,\nhis skilful flattery, and great address, he had acquired in the house\nof Polentinos considerable ascendency, and he had even succeeded in\nestablishing himself in it on a footing of familiarity. But the object\nof all his arts was a servant maid named Librada, whom he had seduced\n(chastely speaking) that she might carry messages and notes to Rosario,\nof whom he pretended to be enamored. The girl allowed herself to be\nbribed with persuasive words and a good deal of money, because she\nwas ignorant of the source of the notes and of the real meaning of the\nintrigue, for had she known that it was all a diabolical plot of Don\nJos\u00e9, although she liked the latter greatly, she would not have acted\nwith treachery toward her mistress for all the money in the world.\n\nOne day Do\u00f1a Perfecta, Don Inocencio, Jacinto, and Pinzon were\nconversing together in the garden. They were talking about the soldiers\nand the purpose for which they had been sent to Orbajosa, in which the\nPenitentiary found motive for condemning the tyrannical conduct of the\nGovernment; and, without knowing how it came about, Pepe Rey\u2019s name was\nmentioned.\n\n\u201cHe is still at the hotel,\u201d said the little lawyer. \u201cI saw him\nyesterday, and he gave me remembrances for you, Do\u00f1a Perfecta.\u201d\n\n\u201cWas there ever seen such insolence! Ah, Se\u00f1or Pinzon! do not be\nsurprised at my using this language, speaking of my own nephew--that\nyoung man, you remember, who had the room which you occupy.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I know. I am not acquainted with him, but I know him by sight and\nby reputation. He is an intimate friend of our brigadier.\u201d\n\n\u201cAn intimate friend of the brigadier?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, se\u00f1or; of the commander of the brigade that has just arrived in\nthis district, and which is quartered in the neighboring villages.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd where is he?\u201d asked the lady.\n\n\u201cIn Orbajosa.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think he is stopping at Polavieja\u2019s,\u201d observed Jacinto.\n\n\u201cYour nephew and Brigadier Batalla are intimate friends,\u201d continued\nPinzon; \u201cthey are always to be seen together in the streets.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my friend, that gives me a bad idea of your chief,\u201d said Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta.\n\n\u201cHe is--he is very good-natured,\u201d said Pinzon, in the tone of one who,\nthrough motives of respect, did not venture to use a harsher word.\n\n\u201cWith your permission, Se\u00f1or Pinzon, and making an honorable exception\nin your favor, it must be said that in the Spanish army there are some\ncurious types----\u201d\n\n\u201cOur brigadier was an excellent soldier before he gave himself up to\nspiritualism.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo spiritualism!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat sect that calls up ghosts and goblins by means of the legs of a\ntable!\u201d said the canon, laughing.\n\n\u201cFrom curiosity, only from curiosity,\u201d said Jacintillo, with emphasis,\n\u201cI ordered Allan Kardec\u2019s book from Madrid. It is well to know something\nabout every thing.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut is it possible that such follies--Heavens! Tell me, Pinzon, does my\nnephew too belong to that sect of table-tippers?\u201d\n\n\u201cI think it was he who indoctrinated our valiant Brigadier Batalla.\u201d\n\n\u201cGood Heavens!\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; and whenever he chooses,\u201d said Don Inocencio, unable to contain\nhis laughter, \u201che can speak to Socrates, St. Paul, Cervantes, or\nDescartes, as I speak to Librada to ask her for a match. Poor Se\u00f1or de\nRey! I was not mistaken in saying that there was something wrong in his\nhead.\u201d\n\n\u201cOutside that,\u201d continued Pinzon, \u201cour brigadier is a good soldier. If\nhe errs at all, it is on the side of severity. He takes the orders\nof the Government so literally that, if he were to meet with much\nopposition here, he would be capable of not leaving one stone upon\nanother in Orbajosa. Yes, I advise you all to be on your guard.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut is that monster going to cut all our heads off, then? Ah, Se\u00f1or Don\nInocencio! these visits of the army remind me of what I have read in\nthe lives of the martyrs about the visits of the Roman proconsuls to a\nChristian town.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe comparison is not wanting in exactness,\u201d said the Penitentiary,\nlooking at the soldier over his spectacles.\n\n\u201cIt is not very agreeable, but if it is the truth, why should it not be\nsaid?\u201d observed Pinzon benevolently. \u201cNow you all are at our mercy.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe authorities of the place,\u201d objected Jacinto, \u201cstill exercise their\nfunctions as usual.\u201d\n\n\u201cI think you are mistaken,\u201d responded the soldier, whose countenance\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta and the Penitentiary were studying with profound interest.\n\u201cThe alcalde of Orbajosa was removed from office an hour ago.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the governor of the province?\u201d\n\n\u201cThe governor of the province has been replaced by a delegate from the\nGovernment, who was to arrive this morning. The municipal councils will\nall be removed from office to-day. The minister has so ordered\nbecause he suspected, I don\u2019t know on what grounds, that they were not\nsupporting the central authority.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is a pretty state of things!\u201d murmured the canon, frowning and\npushing out his lower lip.\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta looked thoughtful.\n\n\u201cSome of the judges of the primary court, among them the judge of\nOrbajosa, have been deprived of office.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe judge! Periquito--Periquito is no longer judge!\u201d exclaimed Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta, in a voice and with the manner of a person who has just been\nstung by a snake.\n\n\u201cThe person who was judge in Orbajosa is judge no longer,\u201d said Pinzon.\n\u201cTo-morrow the new judge will arrive.\u201d\n\n\u201cA stranger!\u201d\n\n\u201cA stranger.\u201d\n\n\u201cA rascal, perhaps. The other was so honorable!\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta,\nwith alarm. \u201cI never asked any thing from him that he did not grant it\nto me at once. Do you know who will be the new alcalde?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey say a corregidor is coming.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere, say at once that the Deluge is coming, and let us be done with\nit,\u201d said the canon, rising.\n\n\u201cSo that we are at the brigadier\u2019s mercy!\u201d\n\n\u201cFor a few days only. Don\u2019t be angry with me. In spite of my uniform I\nam an enemy of militarism; but we are ordered to strike--and we strike.\nThere could not be a viler trade than ours.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat it is, that it is!\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, with difficulty concealing\nher fury. \u201cNow that you have confessed it----So, then, neither alcalde\nnor judge----\u201d\n\n\u201cNor governor of the province.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet them take the bishop from us also and send us a choir boy in his\nstead.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is all that is wanting--if the people here will allow them to\ndo it,\u201d murmured Don Inocencio, lowering his eyes. \u201cThey won\u2019t stop at\ntrifles.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd it is all because they are afraid of an insurrection in Orbajosa,\u201d\n exclaimed Do\u00f1a Perfecta, clasping her hands and waving them up and down.\n\u201cFrankly, Pinzon, I don\u2019t know why it is that even the very stones\ndon\u2019t rise up in rebellion. I wish you no harm; but it would be a just\njudgment on you if the water you drink turned into mud. You say that my\nnephew is the intimate friend of the brigadier?\u201d\n\n\u201cSo intimate that they are together all day long; they were\nschool-fellows. Batalla loves him like a brother, and would do anything\nto please him. In your place, se\u00f1ora, I would be uneasy.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, my God! I fear there will be an attack on the house!\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1ora,\u201d declared the canon, with energy, \u201cbefore I would consent\nthat there should be an attack on this honorable house--before I would\nconsent that the slightest harm should be done to this noble family--I,\nmy nephew, all the people of Orbajosa----\u201d\n\nDon Inocencio did not finish. His anger was so great that the words\nrefused to come. He took a few steps forward with a martial air, then\nreturned to his seat.\n\n\u201cI think that your fears are not idle,\u201d said Pinzon. \u201cIf it should be\nnecessary, I----\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd I----\u201d said Jacinto.\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta had fixed her eyes on the glass door of the dining-room,\nthrough which could be seen a graceful figure. As she looked at it, it\nseemed as if the cloud of apprehension which rested on her countenance\ngrew darker.\n\n\u201cRosario! come in here, Rosario!\u201d she said, going to meet the young\ngirl. \u201cI fancy you look better to-day, and that you are more cheerful.\nDon\u2019t you think that Rosario looks better? She seems a different being.\u201d\n\nThey all agreed that the liveliest happiness was depicted on her\ncountenance.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI\n\n\u201cDESPERTA FERRO\u201d\n\nAbout this time the following items of news appeared in the Madrid\nnewspapers:\n\n\u201cThere is no truth whatever in the report that there has been an\ninsurrection in the neighborhood of Orbajosa. Our correspondent in that\nplace informs us that the country is so little disposed for adventures\nthat the further presence of the Batalla brigade in that locality is\nconsidered unnecessary.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is said that the Batalla brigade will leave Orbajosa, as troops are\nnot required there, to go to Villajuan de Nahara, where guerillas have\nmade their appearance.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe news has been confirmed that the Aceros, with a number of mounted\nfollowers, are ranging the district of Villajuan, adjacent to the\njudicial district of Orbajosa. The governor of the province of X. has\ntelegraphed to the Government that Francisco Acero entered Las Roquetas,\nwhere he demanded provisions and money. Domingo Acero (Faltriquera), was\nranging the Jubileo mountains, actively pursued by the Civil Guards, who\nkilled one of his men and captured another. Bartolome Acero is the man\nwho burned the registry office of Lugarnoble and carried away with him\nas hostages the alcalde and two of the principal landowners.\u201d\n\n\u201cComplete tranquillity reigns in Orbajosa, according to a letter which\nwe have before us, and no one there thinks of anything but cultivating\nthe garlic fields, which promise to yield a magnificent crop. The\nneighboring districts, however, are infested with guerillas, but the\nBatalla brigade will make short work of these.\u201d\n\n\n\nOrbajosa was, in fact, tranquil. The Aceros, that warlike dynasty,\nworthy, in the opinion of some, of figuring in the \u201cRomancero,\u201d had\ntaken possession of the neighboring province; but the insurrection\nwas not spreading within the limits of the episcopal city. It might be\nsupposed that modern culture had at last triumphed in its struggle with\nthe turbulent habits of the great city of disorder, and that the latter\nwas tasting the delights of a lasting peace. So true is this that\nCaballuco himself, one of the most important figures of the historic\nrebellion of Orbajosa, said frankly to every one that he did not wish\nto quarrel with the Government nor involve himself in a business which\nmight cost him dear.\n\nWhatever may be said to the contrary, the impetuous nature of Ramos had\nquieted down with years, and the fiery temper which he had received with\nlife from the ancestral Caballucos, the most valiant race of warriors\nthat had ever desolated the earth, had grown cooler. It is also related\nthat in those days the new governor of the province held a conference\nwith this important personage, and received from his lips the most\nsolemn assurances that he would contribute as far as in him lay to the\ntranquillity of the country, and would avoid doing any thing that might\ngive rise to disturbances. Reliable witnesses declare that he was to be\nseen in friendly companionship with the soldiers, hobnobbing with\nthis sergeant or the other in the tavern, and it was even said that an\nimportant position in the town-hall of the capital of the province was\nto be given him. How difficult it is for the historian who tries to be\nimpartial to arrive at the exact truth in regard to the sentiments and\nopinions of the illustrious personages who have filled the world\nwith their fame! He does not know what to hold by, and the absence of\nauthentic records often gives rise to lamentable mistakes. Considering\nevents of such transcendent importance as that of the 18th Brumaire, the\nsack of Rome by Bourbon, or the destruction of Jerusalem--where is the\npsychologist or the historian who would be able to determine what were\nthe thoughts which preceded or followed them in the minds of Bonaparte,\nof Charles V., and of Titus? Ours is an immense responsibility. To\ndischarge it in part we will report words, phrases, and even discourses\nof the Orbajosan emperor himself; and in this way every one will be able\nto form the opinion which may seem to him most correct.\n\nIt is beyond a doubt that Cristobal Ramos left his house just after\ndark, crossed the Calle del Condestable, and, seeing three countrymen\nmounted on powerful mules coming toward him, asked them where they\nwere going, to which they answered that they were going to Se\u00f1ora Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta\u2019s house to take her some of the first fruits of their gardens\nand a part of the rent that had fallen due. They were Se\u00f1or Paso Largo,\na young man named Frasquito Gonzales, and a third, a man of medium\nstature and robust make, who was called Vejarruco, although his real\nname was Jos\u00e9 Esteban Romero. Caballuco turned back, tempted by the\nagreeable society of these persons, who were old and intimate friends\nof his, and accompanied them to Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s house. This took place,\naccording to the most reliable accounts, at nightfall, and two days\nafter the day on which Do\u00f1a Perfecta and Pinzon held the conversation\nwhich those who have read the preceding chapter will have seen recorded\nthere. The great Ramos stopped for a moment to give Librada certain\nmessages of trifling importance, which a neighbor had confided to his\ngood memory, and when he entered the dining-room he found the three\nbefore-mentioned countrymen and Se\u00f1or Licurgo, who by a singular\ncoincidence was also there, conversing about domestic matters and the\ncrops. The Se\u00f1ora was in a detestable humor; she found fault with every\nthing, and scolded them harshly for the drought of the heavens and the\nbarrenness of the earth, phenomena for which they, poor men! were in\nno wise to blame. The Penitentiary was also present. When Caballuco\nentered, the good canon saluted him affectionately and motioned him to a\nseat beside himself.\n\n\u201cHere is the individual,\u201d said the mistress of the house disdainfully.\n\u201cIt seems impossible that a man of such little account should be so much\ntalked about. Tell me, Caballuco, is it true that one of the soldiers\nslapped you on the face this morning?\u201d\n\n\u201cMe! me!\u201d said the Centaur, rising indignantly, as if he had received\nthe grossest insult.\n\n\u201cThat is what they say,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cIs it not true? I believed\nit; for any one who thinks so little of himself--they might spit in\nyour face and you would think yourself honored with the saliva of the\nsoldiers.\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1ora!\u201d vociferated Ramos with energy, \u201csaving the respect which I\nowe you, who are my mother, my mistress, my queen--saving the respect,\nI say, which I owe to the person who has given me all that I\npossess--saving the respect--\u201d\n\n\u201cWell? One would think you were going to say something.\u201d\n\n\u201cI say then, that saving the respect, that about the slap is a slander,\u201d\n he ended, expressing himself with extraordinary difficulty. \u201cMy affairs\nare in every one\u2019s mouth--whether I come in or whether I go out, where\nI am going and where I have come from--and why? All because they want\nto make me a tool to raise the country. Pedro is contented in his own\nhouse, ladies and gentlemen. The troops have come? Bad! but what are we\ngoing to do about it? The alcalde and the secretary and the judge have\nbeen removed from office? Very bad! I wish the very stones of Orbajosa\nmight rise up against them; but I have given my word to the governor,\nand up to the present---\u201d\n\nHe scratched his head, gathered his gloomy brows in a frown, and with\never-increasing difficulty of speech continued:\n\n\u201cI may be brutal, disagreeable, ignorant, quarrelsome, obstinate, and\nevery thing else you choose, but in honor I yield to no one.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat a pity of the Cid Campeador!\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta contemptuously.\n\u201cDon\u2019t you agree with me, Se\u00f1or Penitentiary, that there is not a single\nman left in Orbajosa who has any shame in him?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is a serious view to take of the case,\u201d responded the capitular,\nwithout looking at his friend, or removing from his chin the hand on\nwhich he rested his thoughtful face; \u201cbut I think this neighborhood has\naccepted with excessive submission the heavy yoke of militarism.\u201d\n\nLicurgo and the three countrymen laughed boisterously.\n\n\u201cWhen the soldiers and the new authorities,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, \u201chave\ntaken from us our last real, when the town has been disgraced, we will\nsend all the valiant men of Orbajosa in a glass case to Madrid to be put\nin the museum there or exhibited in the streets.\u201d\n\n\u201cLong life to the mistress!\u201d cried the man called Vejarruco\ndemonstratively. \u201cWhat she says is like gold. It won\u2019t be said on my\naccount that there are no brave men here, for if I am not with the\nAceros it is only because I have a wife and three children, and if any\nthing was to happen--if it wasn\u2019t for that--\u201d\n\n\u201cBut haven\u2019t you given your word to the governor, too?\u201d said Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta.\n\n\u201cTo the governor?\u201d cried the man named Frasquito Gonzalez. \u201cThere is not\nin the whole country a scoundrel who better deserves a bullet. Governor\nand Government, they are all of a piece. Last Sunday the priest said so\nmany rousing things in his sermon about the heresies and the profanities\nof the people of Madrid--oh! it was worth while hearing him! Finally, he\nshouted out in the pulpit that religion had no longer any defenders.\u201d\n\n\u201cHere is the great Cristobal Ramos!\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, clapping the\nCentaur on the back. \u201cHe mounts his horse and rides about in the Plaza\nand up and down the high-road to attract the attention of the soldiers;\nwhen they see him they are terrified at the fierce appearance of the\nhero, and they all run away, half-dead with fright.\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta ended with an exaggerated laugh, which the profound\nsilence of her hearers made still more irritating. Caballuco was pale.\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Paso Largo,\u201d continued the lady, becoming serious, \u201cwhen you go\nhome to-night, send me your son Bartolome to stay here. I need to have\nbrave people in the house; and even with that it may very well happen\nthat, some fine morning, my daughter and myself will be found murdered\nin our beds.\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1ora!\u201d exclaimed every one.\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1ora!\u201d cried Caballuco, rising to his feet, \u201cis that a jest, or what\nis it?\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Vejarruco, Se\u00f1or Paso Largo,\u201d continued Do\u00f1a Perfecta, without\nlooking at the bravo of the place, \u201cI am not safe in my own house. No\none in Orbajosa is, and least of all, I. I live with my heart in my\nmouth. I cannot close my eyes in the whole night.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut who, who would dare----\u201d\n\n\u201cCome,\u201d exclaimed Licurgo with fire, \u201cI, old and sick as I am, would be\ncapable of fighting the whole Spanish army if a hair of the mistress\u2019\nhead should be touched!\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Caballuco,\u201d said Frasquito Gonzalez, \u201cwill be enough and more\nthan enough.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, no,\u201d responded Do\u00f1a Perfecta, with cruel sarcasm, \u201cdon\u2019t you see\nthat Ramos has given his word to the governor?\u201d\n\nCaballuco sat down again, and, crossing one leg over the other, clasped\nhis hands on them.\n\n\u201cA coward will be enough for me,\u201d continued the mistress of the house\nimplacably, \u201cprovided he has not given his word to any one. Perhaps I\nmay come to see my house assaulted, my darling daughter torn from my\narms, myself trampled under foot and insulted in the vilest manner----\u201d\n\nShe was unable to continue. Her voice died away in her throat, and she\nburst into tears.\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1ora, for Heaven\u2019s sake calm yourself! Come, there is no cause yet!\u201d\n said Don Inocencio hastily, and manifesting the greatest distress in his\nvoice and his countenance. \u201cBesides, we must have a little resignation\nand bear patiently the calamities which God sends us.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut who, se\u00f1ora, who would dare to commit such outrages?\u201d asked one\nof the four countrymen. \u201cOrbajosa would rise as one man to defend the\nmistress.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut who, who would do it?\u201d they all repeated.\n\n\u201cThere, don\u2019t trouble yourselves asking useless questions,\u201d said the\nPenitentiary officiously. \u201cYou may go.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, no, let them stay,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta quickly, drying her tears.\n\u201cThe company of my loyal servants is a great consolation to me.\u201d\n\n\u201cMay my race be accursed!\u201d said Uncle Licurgo, striking his knee with\nhis clenched hand, \u201cif all this mess is not the work of the mistress\u2019\nown nephew.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf Don Juan Rey\u2019s son?\u201d\n\n\u201cFrom the moment I first set eyes on him at the station at\nVillahorrenda, and he spoke to me with his honeyed voice and his mincing\nmanners,\u201d declared Licurgo, \u201cI thought him a great--I will not say what,\nthrough respect for the mistress. But I knew him--I put my mark upon him\nfrom that moment, and I make no mistakes. A thread shows what the ball\nis, as the saying goes; a sample tells what the cloth is, and a claw\nwhat the lion is.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet no one speak ill of that unhappy young man in my presence,\u201d said\nSe\u00f1ora de Polentinos severely. \u201cNo matter how great his faults may be,\ncharity forbids our speaking of them and giving them publicity.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut charity,\u201d said Don Inocencio, with some energy, \u201cdoes not forbid us\nprotecting ourselves against the wicked, and that is what the question\nis. Since character and courage have sunk so low in unhappy Orbajosa;\nsince our town appears disposed to hold up its face to be spat upon by\nhalf a dozen soldiers and a corporal, let us find protection in union\namong ourselves.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will protect myself in whatever way I can,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta\nresignedly, clasping her hands. \u201cGod\u2019s will be done!\u201d\n\n\u201cSuch a stir about nothing! By the Lord! In this house they are all\nafraid of their shadows,\u201d exclaimed Caballuco, half seriously, half\njestingly. \u201cOne would think this Don Pepito was a legion of devils.\nDon\u2019t be frightened, se\u00f1ora. My little nephew Juan, who is thirteen,\nwill guard the house, and we shall see, nephew for nephew, which is the\nbest man.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe all know already what your boasting and bragging signify,\u201d replied\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cPoor Ramos! You want to pretend to be very brave when we\nhave already had proof that you are not worth any thing.\u201d\n\nRamos turned slightly pale, while he fixed on Do\u00f1a Perfecta a strange\nlook in which terror and respect were blended.\n\n\u201cYes, man; don\u2019t look at me in that way. You know already that I am not\nafraid of bugaboos. Do you want me to speak plainly to you now? Well,\nyou are a coward.\u201d\n\nRamos, moving about restlessly in his chair, like one who is troubled\nwith the itch, seemed greatly disturbed. His nostrils expelled and drew\nin the air, like those of a horse. Within that massive frame a storm\nof rage and fury, roaring and destroying, struggled to escape. After\nstammering a few words and muttering others under his breath, he rose to\nhis feet and bellowed:\n\n\u201cI will cut off the head of Se\u00f1or Rey!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat folly! You are as brutal as you are cowardly,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta,\nturning pale. \u201cWhy do you talk about killing? I want no one killed, much\nless my nephew--a person whom I love, in spite of his wickedness.\u201d\n\n\u201cA homicide! What an atrocity!\u201d exclaimed Don Inocencio, scandalized.\n\u201cThe man is mad!\u201d\n\n\u201cTo kill! The very idea of killing a man horrifies me, Caballuco,\u201d said\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta, closing her mild eyes. \u201cPoor man! Ever since you have\nbeen wanting to show your bravery, you have been howling like a ravening\nwolf. Go away, Ramos; you terrify me.\u201d\n\n\u201cDoesn\u2019t the mistress say she is afraid? Doesn\u2019t she say that they will\nattack the house; that they will carry off the young lady?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I fear so.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd one man is going to do that,\u201d said Ramos contemptuously, sitting\ndown again, \u201cDon Pepe Poquita Cosa, with his mathematics, is going to do\nthat. I did wrong in saying I would slit his throat. A doll of that kind\none takes by the ear and ducks in the river.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, laugh now, you fool! It is not my nephew alone who is going to\ncommit the outrages you have mentioned and which I fear; if it were he\nalone I should not fear him. I would tell Librada to stand at the door\nwith a broom--and that would be sufficient. It is not he alone, no!\u201d\n\n\u201cWho then?\u201d\n\n\u201cPretend you don\u2019t understand! Don\u2019t you know that my nephew and the\nbrigadier who commands that accursed troop have been confabulating?\u201d\n\n\u201cConfabulating!\u201d repeated Caballuco, as if puzzled by the word.\n\n\u201cThat they are bosom friends,\u201d said Licurgo. \u201cConfabulate means to be\nlike bosom friends. I had my suspicions already of what the mistress\nsays.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt all amounts to this--that the brigadier and the officers are hand\nand glove with Don Jos\u00e9, and what he wants those brave soldiers\nwant; and those brave soldiers will commit all kinds of outrages and\natrocities, because that is their trade.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd we have no alcalde to protect us.\u201d\n\n\u201cNor judge.\u201d\n\n\u201cNor governor. That is to say that we are at the mercy of that infamous\nrabble.\u201d\n\n\u201cYesterday,\u201d said Vejarruco, \u201csome soldiers enticed away Uncle Julian\u2019s\nyoungest daughter, and the poor thing was afraid to go back home;\nthey found her standing barefooted beside the old fountain, crying and\npicking up the pieces of her broken jar.\u201d\n\n\u201cPoor Don Gregorio Palomeque, the notary of Naharilla Alta!\u201d said\nFrasquito. \u201cThose rascals robbed him of all the money he had in his\nhouse. And all the brigadier said, when he was told about it, was it was\na lie.\u201d\n\n\u201cTyrants! greater tyrants were never born,\u201d said the other. \u201cWhen I say\nthat it is through punctilio that I am not with the Aceros!\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd what news is there of Francisco Acero?\u201d asked Do\u00f1a Perfecta gently.\n\u201cI should be sorry if any mischance were to happen to him. Tell me, Don\nInocencio, was not Francisco Acero born in Orbajosa?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo; he and his brother are from Villajuan.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am sorry for it, for Orbajosa\u2019s sake,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cThis poor\ncity has fallen into misfortune. Do you know if Francisco Acero gave\nhis word to the governor not to trouble the poor soldiers in their\nabductions, in their impious deeds, in their sacrilegious acts, in their\nvillanies?\u201d\n\nCaballuco sprang from his chair. He felt himself now not stung, but\ncut to the quick by a cruel stroke, like that of a sabre. With his face\nburning and his eyes flashing fire he cried:\n\n\u201cI gave my word to the governor because the governor told me that they\nhad come for a good purpose.\u201d\n\n\u201cBarbarian, don\u2019t shout! Speak like other people, and we will listen to\nyou.\u201d\n\n\u201cI promised that neither I nor any of my friends would raise guerillas\nin the neighborhood of Orbajosa. To those who wanted to take up arms\nbecause they were itching to fight I said: \u2018Go to the Aceros, for here\nwe won\u2019t stir.\u2019 But I have a good many honest men, yes, se\u00f1ora; and true\nmen, yes, se\u00f1ora; and valiant men, yes, se\u00f1ora; scattered about in the\nhamlets and villages and in the suburbs and the mountains, each in his\nown house, eh? And so soon as I say a quarter of a word to them, eh?\nthey will be taking down their guns, eh? and setting out on horseback\nor on foot, for whatever place I tell them. And don\u2019t keep harping on\nwords, for if I gave my word it was because I don\u2019t wish to fight; and\nif I want guerillas there will be guerillas; and if I don\u2019t there won\u2019t,\nfor I am who I am, the same man that I always was, as every one knows\nvery well. And I say again don\u2019t keep harping on words, eh? and don\u2019t\nlet people say one thing to me when they mean another, eh? and if people\nwant me to fight, let them say so plainly, eh? for that is what God has\ngiven us tongues for, to say this thing or that. The mistress knows very\nwell who I am, as I know that I owe to her the shirt on my back, and the\nbread I eat to-day, and the first pea I sucked after I was weaned, and\nthe coffin in which my father was buried when he died, and the medicines\nand the doctor that cured me when I was sick; and the mistress knows\nvery well that if she says to me, \u2018Caballuco, break your head,\u2019 I will\ngo there to the corner and dash it against the wall; the mistress knows\nvery well that if she tells me now that it is day, although I see that\nit is night, I will believe that I am mistaken, and that it is broad\nday; the mistress knows very well that she and her interests are for me\nbefore my own life, and that if a mosquito stings her in my presence, I\npardon it, because it is a mosquito; the mistress knows very well that\nshe is dearer to me than all there is besides under the sun. To a man\nof heart like me one says, \u2018Caballuco, you stupid fellow, do this or do\nthat.\u2019 And let there be an end to sarcasms, and beating about the bush,\nand preaching one thing and meaning another, and a stab here and a pinch\nthere.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere, man, calm yourself,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta kindly. \u201cYou have worked\nyourself into a heat like those republican orators who came here to\npreach free religion, free love, and I don\u2019t know how many other free\nthings. Let them bring you a glass of water.\u201d\n\nCaballuco, twisting his handkerchief into a ball, wiped with it his\nbroad forehead and his neck, which were bathed in perspiration. A glass\nof water was brought to him and the worthy canon, with a humility that\nwas in perfect keeping with his sacerdotal character, took it from the\nservant\u2019s hand to give it to him himself, and held the plate while he\ndrank. Caballuco gulped down the water noisily.\n\n\u201cNow bring another glass for me, Se\u00f1ora Librada,\u201d said Don Inocencio. \u201cI\nhave a little fire inside me too.\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII\n\n\u201cDESPERTA!\u201d\n\n\u201cWith regard to the guerillas,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, when they had\nfinished drinking, \u201call I will say is--do as your conscience dictates to\nyou.\u201d\n\n\u201cI know nothing about dictations,\u201d cried Ramos. \u201cI will do whatever the\nmistress pleases!\u201d\n\n\u201cI can give you no advice on so important a matter,\u201d answered Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta with the cautiousness and moderation which so well became her.\n\u201cThis is a very serious business, and I can give you no advice about\nit.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut your opinion----\u201d\n\n\u201cMy opinion is that you should open your eyes and see, that you should\nopen your ears and hear. Consult your own heart--I will grant that you\nhave a great heart. Consult that judge, that wise counsellor, and do as\nit bids you.\u201d\n\nCaballuco reflected; he meditated as much as a sword can meditate.\n\n\u201cWe counted ourselves yesterday in Naharilla Alta,\u201d said Vejarruco,\n\u201cand we were thirteen--ready for any little undertaking. But as we were\nafraid the mistress might be vexed, we did nothing. It is time now for\nthe shearing.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t mind about the shearing,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cThere will be time\nenough for it. It won\u2019t be left undone for that.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy two boys quarrelled with each other yesterday,\u201d said Licurgo,\n\u201cbecause one of them wanted to join Francisco Acero and the other\ndidn\u2019t. \u2018Easy, boys, easy,\u2019 I said to them; \u2018all in good time. Wait; we\nknow how to fight here as well as they do anywhere else.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cLast night,\u201d said Uncle Paso Largo, \u201cRoque Pelosmalos told me that the\nmoment Se\u00f1or Ramos said half a word they would all be ready, with their\narms in their hands. What a pity that the two Burguillos brothers went\nto work in the fields in Lugarnoble!\u201d\n\n\u201cGo for them you,\u201d said the mistress quickly. \u201cSe\u00f1or Lucas, do you\nprovide Uncle Paso Largo with a horse.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd if the mistress tells me to do so, and Se\u00f1or Ramos agrees,\u201d said\nFrasquito Gonzalez, \u201cI will go to Villahorrenda to see if Robustiano,\nthe forester, and his brother Pedro will also--\u201d\n\n\u201cI think that is a good idea. Robustiano will not venture to come to\nOrbajosa, because he owes me a trifle. You can tell him that I forgive\nhim the six dollars and a half. These poor people who sacrifice\nthemselves with so little. Is it not so, Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio?\u201d\n\n\u201cOur good Ramos here tells me,\u201d answered the canon, \u201cthat his friends\nare displeased with him for his lukewarmness; but that, as soon as they\nsee that he has decided, they will all put the cartridge-box in their\nbelts.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat, have you decided to take to the roads?\u201d said the mistress. \u201cI\nhave not advised you to do any such thing, and if you do it, it is of\nyour own free-will. Neither has Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio said a word to you\nto that effect. But if that is your decision, you have no doubt strong\nreasons for coming to it. Tell me, Cristobal, will you have some supper?\nWill you take something--speak frankly.\u201d\n\n\u201cAs far as my advising Se\u00f1or Ramos to take the field is concerned,\u201d\n said Don Inocencio, looking over his spectacles, \u201cDo\u00f1a Perfecta is quite\nright. I, as an ecclesiastic, could advise nothing of the kind. I know\nthat some priests do so, and even themselves take up arms; but that\nseems to me improper, very improper, and I for one will not follow their\nexample. I carry my scrupulosity so far as not to say a word to Se\u00f1or\nRamos about the delicate question of his taking up arms. I know that\nOrbajosa desires it; I know that all the inhabitants of this noble city\nwould bless him for it; I know that deeds are going to be done here\nworthy of being recorded in history; but notwithstanding, let me be\nallowed to maintain a discreet silence.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well said,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cI don\u2019t approve of ecclesiastics\ntaking any part in such matters. That is the way an enlightened priest\nought to act. Of course we know that on serious and solemn occasions, as\nwhen our country and our faith are in danger, for instance, it is within\nthe province of an ecclesiastic to incite men to the conflict and even\nto take a part in it. Since God himself has taken part in celebrated\nbattles, under the form of angels and saints, his ministers may very\nwell do so also. During the wars against the infidels how many bishops\nheaded the Castilian troops!\u201d\n\n\u201cA great many, and some of them were illustrious warriors. But these\ntimes are not like those se\u00f1ora. It is true that, if we examine the\nmatter closely, the faith is in greater danger now than it was then.\nFor what do the troops that occupy our city and the surrounding villages\nrepresent? What do they represent? Are they any thing else but the vile\ninstruments of which the atheists and Protestants who infest Madrid make\nuse for their perfidious conquests and the extermination of the faith?\nIn that centre of corruption, of scandal, of irreligion and unbelief,\na few malignant men, bought by foreign gold, occupy themselves in\ndestroying in our Spain the deeds of faith. Why, what do you suppose?\nThey allow us to say mass and you to hear it through the remnant of\nconsideration, for shame\u2019s sake--but, the day least expected--For my\npart, I am tranquil. I am not a man to disturb myself about any worldly\nand temporal interest. Do\u00f1a Perfecta is well aware of that; all who know\nme are aware of it. My mind is at rest, and the triumph of the wicked\ndoes not terrify me. I know well that terrible days are in store for us;\nthat all of us who wear the sacerdotal garb have our lives hanging by\na hair, for Spain, doubt it not, will witness scenes like those of the\nFrench Revolution, in which thousands of pious ecclesiastics perished\nin a single day. But I am not troubled. When the hour to kill strikes, I\nwill present my neck. I have lived long enough. Of what use am I? None,\nnone!\u201d\n\n\u201cMay I be devoured by dogs,\u201d exclaimed Vejarruco, shaking his fist,\nwhich had all the hardness and the strength of a hammer, \u201cif we do not\nsoon make an end of that thievish rabble!\u201d\n\n\u201cThey say that next week they will begin to pull down the cathedral,\u201d\n observed Frasquito.\n\n\u201cI suppose they will pull it down with pickaxes and hammers,\u201d said the\ncanon, smiling. \u201cThere are artificers who, without those implements, can\nbuild more rapidly than they can pull down. You all know that, according\nto holy tradition, our beautiful chapel of the Sagrario was pulled down\nby the Moors in a month, and immediately afterward rebuilt by the angels\nin a single night. Let them pull it down; let them pull it down!\u201d\n\n\u201cIn Madrid, as the curate of Naharilla told us the other night,\u201d said\nVejarruco, \u201cthere are so few churches left standing that some of the\npriests say mass in the middle of the street, and as they are beaten and\ninsulted and spat upon, there are many who don\u2019t wish to say it.\u201d\n\n\u201cFortunately here, my children,\u201d observed Don Inocencio, \u201cwe have not\nyet had scenes of that nature. Why? Because they know what kind of\npeople you are; because they have heard of your ardent piety and your\nvalor. I don\u2019t envy the first ones who lay hands on our priests and our\nreligion. Of course it is not necessary to say that, if they are not\nstopped in time, they will commit atrocities. Poor Spain, so holy and so\nmeek and so good! Who would have believed she would ever arrive at such\nextremities! But I maintain that impiety will not triumph, no. There are\ncourageous people still; there are people still like those of old. Am I\nnot right, Se\u00f1or Ramos?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, se\u00f1or, that there are,\u201d answered the latter.\n\n\u201cI have a blind faith in the triumph of the law of God. Some one must\nstand up in defence of it. If not one, it will be another. The palm of\nvictory, and with it eternal glory, some one must bear. The wicked will\nperish, if not to-day, to-morrow. That which goes against the law of\nGod will fall irremediably. Let it be in this manner or in that, fall it\nmust. Neither its sophistries, nor its evasions, nor its artifices will\nsave it. The hand of God is raised against it and will infallibly\nstrike it. Let us pity them and desire their repentance. As for you, my\nchildren, do not expect that I shall say a word to you about the step\nwhich you are no doubt going to take. I know that you are good; I know\nthat your generous determination and the noble end which you have in\nview will wash away from you all the stain of the sin of shedding blood.\nI know that God will bless you; that your victory, the same as your\ndeath, will exalt you in the eyes of men and in the eyes of God. I know\nthat you deserve palms and glory and all sorts of honors; but in spite\nof this, my children, my lips will not incite you to the combat. They\nhave never done it, and they will not do it now. Act according to the\nimpulse of your own noble hearts. If they bid you to remain in your\nhouses, remain in them; if they bid you to leave them--why, then, leave\nthem. I will resign myself to be a martyr and to bow my neck to the\nexecutioner, if that vile army remains here. But if a noble and ardent\nand pious impulse of the sons of Orbajosa contributes to the great\nwork of the extirpation of our country\u2019s ills, I shall hold myself the\nhappiest of men, solely in being your fellow-townsman; and all my\nlife of study, of penitence, of resignation, will seem to me less\nmeritorious, less deserving of heaven, than a single one of your heroic\ndays.\u201d\n\n\u201cImpossible to say more or to say it better!\u201d exclaimed Do\u00f1a Perfecta,\nin a burst of enthusiasm.\n\nCaballuco had leaned forward in his chair and was resting his elbows\non his knees; when the canon ended he took his hand and kissed it with\nfervor.\n\n\u201cA better man was never born,\u201d said Uncle Licurgo, wiping, or pretending\nto wipe away a tear.\n\n\u201cLong life to the Se\u00f1or Penitentiary!\u201d cried Frasquito Gonzalez, rising\nto his feet and throwing his cap up to the ceiling.\n\n\u201cSilence!\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cSit down, Frasquito! You are one of\nthose with whom it is always much cry and little wool.\u201d\n\n\u201cBlessed be God who gave you that eloquent tongue!\u201d exclaimed Cristobal,\ninflamed with admiration. \u201cWhat a pair I have before me! While these two\nlive what need is there of any one else? All the people in Spain ought\nto be like them. But how could that be, when there is nothing in it but\nroguery! In Madrid, which is the capital where the law and the mandarins\ncome from, every thing is robbery and cheating. Poor religion, what a\nstate they have brought it to! There is nothing to be seen but crimes.\nSe\u00f1or Don Inocencio, Se\u00f1ora Do\u00f1a Perfecta, by my father\u2019s soul, by the\nsoul of my grandfather, by the salvation of my own soul, I swear that I\nwish to die!\u201d\n\n\u201cTo die!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat I wish those rascally dogs may kill me, and I say that I wish they\nmay kill me, because I cannot cut them in quarters. I am very little.\u201d\n\n\u201cRamos, you are great,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta solemnly.\n\n\u201cGreat? Great? Very great, as far as my courage is concerned; but have I\nfortresses, have I cavalry, have I artillery?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat is a thing, Ramos,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, smiling, \u201cabout which I\nwould not concern myself. Has not the enemy what you lack?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cTake it from him, then.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe will take it from him, yes, se\u00f1ora. When I say that we will take it\nfrom him--\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear Ramos,\u201d exclaimed Don Inocencio, \u201cyours is an enviable\nposition. To distinguish yourself, to raise yourself above the base\nmultitude, to put yourself on an equality with the greatest heroes of\nthe earth, to be able to say that the hand of God guides your hand--oh,\nwhat grandeur and honor! My friend, this is not flattery. What dignity,\nwhat nobleness, what magnanimity! No; men of such a temper cannot die.\nThe Lord goes with them, and the bullet and the steel of the enemy are\narrested in their course; they do not dare--how should they dare--to\ntouch them, coming from the musket and the hand of heretics? Dear\nCaballuco, seeing you, seeing your bravery and your nobility, there come\nto my mind involuntarily the verses of that ballad on the conquest of\nthe Empire of Trebizond:\n\n     \u201c\u2018Came the valiant Roland\n     Armed at every point,\n     On his war-horse mounted,\n     The gallant Briador;\n     His good sword Durlindana\n     Girded to his side,\n     Couched for the attack his lance,\n     On his arm his buckler stout,\n     Through his helmet\u2019s visor\n     Flashing fire he came;\n     Quivering like a slender reed\n     Shaken by the wind his lance,\n     And all the host united\n     Defying haughtily.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cVery good,\u201d exclaimed Licurgo, clapping his hands. \u201cAnd I say like Don\nRenialdos:\n\n     \u201c\u2018Let none the wrath of Don Renialdos\n     Dare brave and hope to escape unscathed;\n     For he who seeks with him a quarrel,\n     Shall pay so dearly for his rashness\n     That he, and all his cause who champion,\n     Shall at my hand or meet destruction\n     Or chastisement severe shall suffer.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cRamos, you will take some supper, you will eat something; won\u2019t you?\u201d\n said the mistress of the house.\n\n\u201cNothing, nothing;\u201d answered the Centaur. \u201cOr if you give me any thing,\nlet it be a plate of gunpowder.\u201d\n\nAnd bursting into a boisterous laugh, he walked up and down the room\nseveral times, attentively observed by every one; then, stopping beside\nthe group, he looked fixedly at Do\u00f1a Perfecta and thundered forth these\nwords:\n\n\u201cI say that there is nothing more to be said. Long live Orbajosa! death\nto Madrid!\u201d\n\nAnd he brought his hand down on the table with such violence that the\nfloor shook.\n\n\u201cWhat a valiant spirit!\u201d said Don Inocencio.\n\n\u201cWhat a fist you have!\u201d\n\nEvery one was looking at the table, which had been split in two by the\nblow.\n\nThen they looked at the never-enough-to-be-admired Renialdos or\nCaballuco. Undoubtedly there was in his handsome countenance, in his\ngreen eyes animated by a strange, feline glow, in his black hair, in his\nherculean frame, a certain expression and air of grandeur--a trace, or\nrather a memory, of the grand races that dominated the world. But his\ngeneral aspect was one of pitiable degeneration, and it was difficult to\ndiscover the noble and heroic filiation in the brutality of the present.\nHe resembled Don Cayetano\u2019s great men as the mule resembles the horse.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII\n\nMYSTERY\n\nThe conference lasted for some time longer, but we omit what followed as\nnot being necessary to a clear understanding of our story. At last they\nseparated, Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio remaining to the last, as usual. Before\nthe canon and Do\u00f1a Perfecta had had time to exchange a word, an elderly\nwoman, Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s confidential servant and her right hand, entered\nthe dining-room, and her mistress, seeing that she looked disturbed and\nanxious, was at once filled with disquietude, suspecting that something\nwrong was going on in the house.\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t find the se\u00f1orita anywhere,\u201d said the servant, in answer to her\nmistress\u2019 questions.\n\n\u201cGood Heavens--Rosario! Where is my daughter?\u201d\n\n\u201cVirgin of Succor protect us!\u201d cried the Penitentiary, taking up his hat\nand preparing to hurry out with Do\u00f1a Perfecta.\n\n\u201cSearch for her well. But was she not with you in her room?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, se\u00f1ora,\u201d answered the old woman, trembling, \u201cbut the devil tempted\nme, and I fell asleep.\u201d\n\n\u201cA curse upon your sleep! What is this? Rosario, Rosario! Librada!\u201d\n\nThey went upstairs and came down again, they went up a second time\nand came down again; carrying a light and looking carefully in all the\nrooms. At last the voice of the Penitentiary was heard saying joyfully\nfrom the stairs:\n\n\u201cHere she is, here she is! She has been found.\u201d\n\nA moment later mother and daughter were standing face to face in the\nhall.\n\n\u201cWhere were you?\u201d asked Do\u00f1a Perfecta, in a severe voice, scrutinizing\nher daughter\u2019s face closely.\n\n\u201cIn the garden,\u201d answered the girl, more dead than alive.\n\n\u201cIn the garden at this hour? Rosario!\u201d\n\n\u201cI was warm, I went to the window, my handkerchief dropped out, and I\ncame down stairs for it!\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you ask Librada to get it for you? Librada! Where is that\ngirl? Has she fallen asleep too?\u201d\n\nLibrada at last made her appearance. Her pale face revealed the\nconsternation and the apprehension of the delinquent.\n\n\u201cWhat is this? Where were you?\u201d asked her mistress, with terrible anger.\n\n\u201cWhy, se\u00f1ora, I came down stairs to get the clothes out of the front\nroom--and I fell asleep.\u201d\n\n\u201cEvery one here seems to have fallen asleep to-night. Some of you, I\nfancy, will not sleep in my house to-morrow night. Rosario, you may go.\u201d\n\nComprehending that it was necessary to act with promptness and energy,\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta and the canon began their investigations without delay.\nQuestions, threats, entreaties, promises, were skilfully employed to\ndiscover the truth regarding what had happened. Not even the shadow\nof guilt was found to attach to the old servant; but Librada confessed\nfrankly between tears and sighs all her delinquencies, which we will sum\nup as follows:\n\nShortly after his arrival in the house Se\u00f1or Pinzon had begun to cast\nloving glances at Se\u00f1orita Rosario. He had given money to Librada,\naccording to what the latter said, to carry messages and love-letters to\nher. The young lady had not seemed angry, but, on the contrary, pleased,\nand several days had passed in this manner. Finally, the servant\ndeclared that Rosario and Se\u00f1or Pinzon had agreed to meet and talk with\neach other on this night at the window of the room of the latter, which\nopened on the garden. They had confided their design to the maid, who\npromised to favor it, in consideration of a sum which was at once given\nher. It had been agreed that Se\u00f1or Pinzon was to leave the house at his\nusual hour and return to it secretly at nine o\u2019clock, go to his room,\nand leave it and the house again, clandestinely also, a little later,\nto return, without concealment, at his usual late hour. In this way no\nsuspicion would fall upon him. Librada had waited for Pinzon, who had\nentered the house closely enveloped in his cloak, without speaking a\nword. He had gone to his room at the same moment in which the young\nlady descended to the garden. During the interview, at which she was not\npresent, Librada had remained on guard in the hall to warn Pinzon, if\nany danger should threaten; and at the end of an hour the latter had\nleft the house enveloped in his cloak, as before, and without speaking\na word. When the confession was ended Don Inocencio said to the wretched\ngirl:\n\n\u201cAre you sure that the person who came into and went out of the house\nwas Se\u00f1or Pinzon?\u201d\n\nThe culprit answered nothing, but her features expressed the utmost\nperplexity.\n\nHer mistress turned green with anger.\n\n\u201cDid you see his face?\u201d\n\n\u201cBut who else could it be but he?\u201d answered the maid. \u201cI am certain that\nit was he. He went straight to his room--he knew the way to it perfectly\nwell.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is strange,\u201d said the canon. \u201cLiving in the house there was no\nneed for him to use such mystery. He might have pretended illness and\nremained in the house. Does it not seem so to you, se\u00f1ora?\u201d\n\n\u201cLibrada,\u201d exclaimed the latter, in a paroxysm of anger, \u201cI vow that you\nshall go to prison.\u201d\n\nAnd clasping her hands, she dug the nails of the one into the other with\nsuch force as almost to draw blood.\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Don Inocencio,\u201d she exclaimed, \u201clet us die--there is no remedy\nbut to die.\u201d\n\nThen she burst into a fit of inconsolable weeping.\n\n\u201cCourage, se\u00f1ora,\u201d said the priest, in a moved voice. \u201cCourage--now it\nis necessary to be very brave. This requires calmness and a great deal\nof courage.\n\n\u201cMine is immense,\u201d said Se\u00f1ora de Polentinos, in the midst of her sobs.\n\n\u201cMine is very small,\u201d said the canon; \u201cbut we shall see, we shall see.\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV\n\nTHE CONFESSION\n\nMeanwhile Rosario--with her heart torn and bleeding, unable to shed\ntears, unable to be at peace or rest, transpierced by grief as by a\nsharp sword, with her thoughts passing swiftly from the world to God and\nfrom God to the world, bewildered and half-crazed, her hands clasped,\nher bare feet resting on the floor--was kneeling, late in the evening,\nin her own room, beside her bed, on the edge of which she rested her\nburning forehead, in darkness, in solitude, and in silence. She was\ncareful not to make the slightest noise, in order not to attract the\nattention of her mother, who was asleep, or seemed to be asleep, in the\nadjoining room. She lifted up her distracted thoughts to Heaven in this\nform:\n\n\u201cLord, my God, why is it that before I did not know how to lie, and now\nI know? Why did I not know before how to deceive, and now I deceive? Am\nI a vile woman? Is this that I feel, is this that is happening to me,\na fall from which there can be no arising? Have I ceased to be virtuous\nand good? I do not recognize myself. Is it I or is it some one else\nwho is in this place? How many terrible things in a few days! How many\ndifferent sensations! My heart is consumed with all it has felt. Lord,\nmy God, dost thou hear my voice, or am I condemned to pray eternally\nwithout being heard? I am good, nothing will convince me that I am not\ngood. To love, to love boundlessly, is that wickedness? But no--it is\nno illusion, no error--I am worse than the worst woman on earth. A great\nserpent is within me, and has fastened his poisonous fangs in my heart.\nWhat is this that I feel? My God, why dost thou not kill me? Why dost\nthou not plunge me forever into the depths of hell? It is frightful,\nbut I confess it to the priest--I hate my mother. Why is this? I cannot\nexplain it to myself. He has not said a word to me against my mother. I\ndo not know how this is come to pass. How wicked I am! The demons have\ntaken possession of me. Lord, come to my help, for with my own strength\nalone I cannot vanquish myself. A terrible impulse urges me to leave\nthis house. I wish to escape, to fly from it. If he does not take me, I\nwill drag myself after him through the streets. What divine joy is this\nthat mingles in my breast with so cruel a grief? Lord God, my father,\nillumine me. I desire only to love. I was not born for this hatred that\nis consuming me. I was not born to deceive, to lie, to cheat. To-morrow\nI will go out into the streets and cry aloud to all the passers-by: \u2018I\nlove! I hate!\u2019 My heart will relieve itself in this way. What happiness\nit would be to be able to reconcile every thing, to love and respect\nevery one! May the Most Holy Virgin protect me. Again that terrible\nidea! I don\u2019t wish to think it, and I think it. Ah! I cannot deceive\nmyself in regard to this. I can neither destroy it nor diminish it--but\nI can confess it; and I confess it, saying to thee: \u2018Lord, I hate my\nmother!\u2019\u201d\n\nAt last she fell into a doze. In her uneasy sleep her imagination\nreproduced in her mind all she had done that night, distorting it,\nwithout altering it in substance. She heard again the clock of the\ncathedral striking nine; she saw with joy the old servant fall into a\npeaceful sleep; and she left the room very slowly, in order to make no\nnoise; she descended the stairs softly, step by step and on tiptoe, in\norder to avoid making the slightest sound. She went into the garden,\ngoing around through the servants\u2019 quarters and the kitchen; in the\ngarden she paused for a moment to look up at the sky, which was dark\nand studded with stars. The wind was hushed. Not a breath disturbed\nthe profound stillness of the night. It seemed to maintain a fixed and\nsilent attention--the attention of eyes that look without winking and\nears that listen attentively, awaiting a great event. The night was\nwatching.\n\nShe then approached the glass door of the dining-room and looked\ncautiously through it, from a little distance, fearing that those within\nmight perceive her. By the light of the dining-room lamp she saw her\nmother sitting with her back toward her. The Penitentiary was on her\nright, and his profile seemed to undergo a strange transformation, his\nnose grew larger and larger, seeming like the beak of some fabulous\nbird; and his whole face became a black silhouette with angles here and\nthere, sharp derisive, irritating. In front of him sat Caballuco, who\nresembled a dragon rather than a man. Rosario could see his green eyes,\nlike two lanterns of convex glass. This glow, and the imposing figure\nof the animal, inspired her with fear. Uncle Licurgo and the other three\nmen appeared to her imagination like grotesque little figures. She had\nseen somewhere, doubtless in some of the clay figures at the fairs, that\nfoolish smile, those coarse faces, that stupid look. The dragon moved\nhis arms which, instead of gesticulating, turned round, like the arms of\na windmill, and the green globes, like the lights of a pharmacy, moved\nfrom side to side. His glance was blinding. The conversation appeared\nto be interesting. The Penitentiary was flapping his wings. He was a\npresumptuous bird, who tried to fly and could not. His beak lengthened\nitself, twisting round and round. His feathers stood out, as if with\nrage; and then, collecting himself and becoming pacified, he hid his\nbald head under his wings. Then the little clay figures began to move,\nwishing to be persons, and Frasquito Gonzalez was trying to pass for a\nman.\n\nRosario felt an inexplicable terror, witnessing this friendly\nconference. She went away from the door and advanced, step by step,\nlooking around her to see if she was observed. Although she saw no one,\nshe fancied that a million eyes were fastened upon her. But suddenly her\nfears and her shame were dispelled. At the window of the room occupied\nby Se\u00f1or Pinzon appeared a man, dressed in blue; the buttons on his coat\nshone like rows of little lights. She approached. At the same instant\nshe felt a pair of arms with galloons lift her up as if she were\na feather and with a swift movement place her in the room. All was\nchanged. Suddenly a crash was heard, a violent blow that shook the house\nto its foundations. Neither knew the cause of the noise. They trembled\nand were silent.\n\nIt was the moment in which the dragon had broken the table in the\ndining-room.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV\n\nUNFORESEEN EVENTS--A PASSING DISAGREEMENT\n\nThe scene changes. We see before us a handsome room, bright, modest,\ngay, comfortable, and surprisingly clean. A fine matting covers the\nfloor, and the white walls are covered with good prints of saints and\nsome sculptures of doubtful artistic value. The old mahogany of the\nfurniture shines with the polish of many Saturday rubbings, and the\naltar, on which a magnificent Virgin, dressed in blue and silver,\nreceives domestic worship, is covered with innumerable pretty trifles,\nhalf sacred, half profane. There are on it, besides, little pictures in\nbeads, holy-water fonts, a watch-case with an Agnes Dei, a Palm Sunday\npalm-branch, and not a few odorless artificial flowers. A number of\noaken bookshelves contain a rich and choice library, in which Horace,\nthe Epicurean and Sybarite, stands side by side with the tender Virgil,\nin whose verses we see the heart of the enamored Dido throbbing\nand melting; Ovid the large-nosed, as sublime as he is obscene and\nsycophantic, side by side with Martial, the eloquent and witty vagabond;\nTibullus the impassioned, with Cicero the grand; the severe Titus Livius\nwith the terrible Tacitus, the scourge of the Caesars; Lucretius the\npantheist; Juvenal, who flayed with his pen; Plautus, who composed\nthe best comedies of antiquity while turning a mill-wheel; Seneca the\nphilosopher, of whom it is said that the noblest act of his life was his\ndeath; Quintilian the rhetorician; the immoral Sallust, who speaks so\neloquently of virtue; the two Plinys; Suetonius and Varro--in a word,\nall the Latin letters from the time when they stammered their first word\nwith Livius Andronicus until they exhaled their last sigh with Rutilius.\n\nBut while making this unnecessary though rapid enumeration, we have not\nobserved that two women have entered the room. It is very early, but\nthe Orbajosans are early risers. The birds are singing to burst their\nthroats in their cages; the church-bells are ringing for mass, and the\ngoats, going from house to house to be milked, are tinkling their bells\ngayly.\n\nThe two ladies whom we see in the room that we have described have just\ncome back from hearing mass. They are dressed in black, and each of them\ncarries in her right hand her little prayer-book, and the rosary twined\naround her fingers.\n\n\u201cYour uncle cannot delay long now,\u201d said one of them. \u201cWe left him\nbeginning mass; but he gets through quickly, and by this time he will\nbe in the sacristy, taking off his chasuble. I would have stayed to hear\nhim say mass, but to-day is a very busy day for me.\u201d\n\n\u201cI heard only the prebendary\u2019s mass to-day,\u201d said the other, \u201cand he\nsays mass in a twinkling; and I don\u2019t think it has done me any good, for\nI was greatly preoccupied. I could not get the thought of the terrible\nthings that are happening to us out of my head.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat is to be done? We must only have patience. Let us see what advice\nyour uncle will give us.\u201d\n\n\u201cAh!\u201d exclaimed the other, heaving a deep and pathetic sigh; \u201cI feel my\nblood on fire.\u201d\n\n\u201cGod will protect us.\u201d\n\n\u201cTo think that a person like you should be threatened by a ----. And he\npersists in his designs! Last night Se\u00f1ora Do\u00f1a Perfecta, I went back\nto the widow De Cuzco\u2019s hotel, as you told me, and asked her for\nlater news. Don Pepito and the brigadier Batalla are always consulting\ntogether--ah, my God! consulting about their infernal plans, and\nemptying bottle after bottle of wine. They are a pair of rakes, a pair\nof drunkards. No doubt they are plotting some fine piece of villany\ntogether. As I take such an interest in you, last night, seeing Don\nPepito having the hotel while I was there, I followed him----\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd where did you go?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo the Casino; yes, se\u00f1ora, to the Casino,\u201d responded the other, with\nsome confusion. \u201cAfterward he went back to his hotel. And how my uncle\nscolded me because I remained out so late, playing the spy in that way!\nBut I can\u2019t help it, and to see a person like you threatened by such\ndangers makes me wild. For there is no use in talking; I foresee that\nthe day we least expect it those villains will attack the house and\ncarry off Rosarito.\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta, for she it was, bending her eyes on the floor, remained\nfor a long time wrapped in thought. She was pale, and her brows were\ngathered in a frown. At last she exclaimed:\n\n\u201cWell, I see no way of preventing it!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut I see a way,\u201d quickly said the other woman, who was the niece of\nthe Penitentiary and Jacinto\u2019s mother; \u201cI see a very simple way, that\nI explained to you, and that you do not like. Ah, se\u00f1ora! you are\ntoo good. On occasions like this it is better to be a little less\nperfect--to lay scruples aside. Why, would that be an offence to God?\u201d\n\n\u201cMaria Remedios,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta haughtily, \u201cdon\u2019t talk nonsense.\u201d\n\n\u201cNonsense! You, with all your wisdom, cannot make your nephew do as\nyou wish. What could be simpler than what I propose? Since there is no\njustice now to protect us, let us do a great act of justice ourselves.\nAre there not men in your house who are ready for any thing? Well, call\nthem and say to them: \u2018Look, Caballuco, Paso Largo,\u2019 or whoever it may\nbe, \u2018to-night disguise yourself well, so that you may not be recognized;\ntake with you a friend in whom you have confidence, and station yourself\nat the corner of the Calle de Santa Faz. Wait a while, and when Don\nJos\u00e9 Rey passes through the Calle de la Triperia on his way to\nthe Casino,--for he will certainly go to the Casino, understand me\nwell,--when he is passing you will spring out on him and give him a\nfright.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cMaria Remedios, don\u2019t be a fool!\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta with magisterial\ndignity.\n\n\u201cNothing more than a fright, se\u00f1ora; attend well to what I say, a\nfright. Why! Do you suppose I would advise a crime? Good God! the very\nidea fills me with horror, and I fancy I can see before my eyes blood\nand fire! Nothing of the sort, se\u00f1ora. A fright--nothing but a fright,\nwhich will make that ruffian understand that we are well protected. He\ngoes alone to the Casino, se\u00f1ora, entirely alone; and there he meets his\nvaliant friends, those of the sabre and the helmet. Imagine that he gets\nthe fright and that he has a few bones broken, in addition--without any\nserious wounds, of course. Well, in that case, either his courage will\nfail him and he will leave Orbajosa, or he will be obliged to keep his\nbed for a fortnight. But they must be told to make the fright a good\none. No killing, of course; they must take care of that, but just a good\nbeating.\u201d\n\n\u201cMaria,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta haughtily, \u201cyou are incapable of a lofty\nthought, of a great and saving resolve. What you advise me is an\nunworthy piece of cowardice.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well, I will be silent. Poor me! what a fool I am!\u201d exclaimed the\nPenitentiary\u2019s niece with humility. \u201cI will keep my follies to console\nyou after you have lost your daughter.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy daughter! Lose my daughter!\u201d exclaimed Do\u00f1a Perfecta, with a sudden\naccess of rage. \u201cOnly to hear you puts me out of my senses. No, they\nshall not take her from me! If Rosario does not abhor that ruffian as I\nwish her to do, she shall abhor him. For a mother\u2019s authority must have\nsome weight. We will tear this passion, or rather this caprice, from\nher heart, as a tender plant is torn out of the ground before it has\nhad time to cast roots. No, this cannot be, Remedios. Come what may,\nit shall not be! Not even the most infamous means he could employ will\navail that madman. Rather than see her my nephew\u2019s wife, I would accept\nany evil that might happen to her, even death!\u201d\n\n\u201cBetter dead, better buried and food for worms,\u201d affirmed Remedios,\nclasping her hands as if she were saying a prayer--\u201cthan see her in the\npower of--ah, se\u00f1ora, do not be offended if I say something to you,\nand that is, that it would be a great weakness to yield merely because\nRosarito has had a few secret interviews with that audacious man. The\naffair of the night before last, as my uncle related it to me, seems to\nme a vile trick on Don Jos\u00e9 to obtain his object by means of a scandal.\nA great many men do that. Ah, Divine Saviour, I don\u2019t know how there are\nwomen who can look any man in the face unless it be a priest.\u201d\n\n\u201cBe silent, be silent!\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, with vehemence. \u201cDon\u2019t\nmention the occurrence of the night before last to me. What a horrible\naffair! Maria Remedios, I understand now how anger can imperil the\nsalvation of a soul. I am burning with rage--unhappy that I am, to see\nsuch things and not to be a man! But to speak the truth in regard to\nthe occurrence of the night before last--I still have my doubts. Librada\nvows and declares that Pinzon was the man who came into the house. My\ndaughter denies every thing; my daughter has never told me a lie!\nI persist in my suspicions. I think that Pinzon is a hypocritical\ngo-between, but nothing more.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe come back to the same thing--that the author of all the trouble is\nthe blessed mathematician. Ah! my heart did not deceive me when I first\nsaw him. Well, then se\u00f1ora! resign yourself to see something still more\nterrible, unless you make up your mind to call Caballuco and say to him,\n\u2018Caballuco, I hope that--\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cThe same thing again; what a simpleton you are!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh yes! I know I am a great simpleton; but how can I help it if I am\nnot any wiser? I say what comes into my head, without any art.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat you think of--that silly and vulgar idea of the beating and the\nfright--is what would occur to any one. You have not an ounce of brains,\nRemedios; to solve a serious question you can think of nothing better\nthan a piece of folly like that. I have thought of a means more worthy\nof noble-minded and well-bred persons. A beating! What stupidity!\nBesides, I would not on any account have my nephew receive even so\nmuch as a scratch by an order of mine. God will send him his punishment\nthrough some one of the wonderful ways which he knows how to choose. All\nwe have to do is to work in order that the designs of God may find no\nobstacle. Maria Remedios, it is necessary in matters of this kind to go\ndirectly to the causes of things. But you know nothing about causes--you\ncan see only trifles.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat may be so,\u201d said the priest\u2019s niece, with humility. \u201cI wonder why\nGod made me so foolish that I can understand nothing of those sublime\nideas!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is necessary to go to the bottom--to the bottom, Remedios. Don\u2019t you\nunderstand yet?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo.\u201d\n\n\u201cMy nephew is not my nephew, woman; he is blasphemy, sacrilege, atheism,\ndemagogy. Do you know what demagogy is?\u201d\n\n\u201cSomething relating to those people who burned Paris with petroleum;\nand those who pull down the churches and fire on the images. So far I\nunderstand very well.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my nephew is all that! Ah! if he were alone in Orbajosa--but no,\nchild. My nephew, through a series of fatalities, which are trials, the\ntransitory evils that God permits for our chastisement, is equivalent to\nan army; is equivalent to the authority of the government; equivalent to\nthe alcalde; equivalent to the judge. My nephew is not my nephew; he\nis the official nation, Remedios--that second nation composed of the\nscoundrels who govern in Madrid, and who have made themselves masters of\nits material strength; of that apparent nation--for the real nation is\nthe one that is silent, that pays and suffers; of that fictitious\nnation that signs decrees and pronounces discourses and makes a farce of\ngovernment, and a farce of authority, and a farce of every thing. That\nis what my nephew is to-day; you must accustom yourself to look under\nthe surface of things. My nephew is the government, the brigadier, the\nnew alcalde, the new judge--for they all protect him, because of the\nunanimity of their ideas; because they are chips of the same block,\nbirds of a feather. Understand it well; we must defend ourselves against\nthem all, for they are all one, and one is all; we must attack them\nall together; and not by beating a man as he turns a corner, but as our\nforefathers attacked the Moors--the Moors, Remedios. Understand this\nwell, child; open your understanding and allow an idea that is\nnot vulgar to enter it--rise above yourself; think lofty thoughts,\nRemedios!\u201d\n\nDon Inocencio\u2019s niece was struck dumb by so much loftiness of soul. She\nopened her mouth to say something that should be in consonance with so\nsublime an idea, but she only breathed a sigh.\n\n\u201cLike the Moors,\u201d repeated Do\u00f1a Perfecta. \u201cIt is a question of Moors and\nChristians. And did you suppose that by giving a fright to my nephew\nall would be ended? How foolish you are! Don\u2019t you see that his friends\nsupport him? Don\u2019t you see that you are at the mercy of that rabble?\nDon\u2019t you see that any little lieutenant can set fire to my house, if\nhe takes it into his head to do so? But don\u2019t you know this? Don\u2019t you\ncomprehend that it is necessary to go to the bottom of things? Don\u2019t you\ncomprehend how vast, how tremendous is the power of my enemy, who is not\na man, but a sect? Don\u2019t you comprehend that my nephew, as he confronts\nme to-day, is not a calamity, but a plague? Against this plague,\ndear Remedios, we shall have here a battalion sent by God that will\nannihilate the infernal militia from Madrid. I tell you that this is\ngoing to be great and glorious.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf it were at last so!\u201d\n\n\u201cBut do you doubt it? To-day we shall see terrible things here,\u201d said\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta, with great impatience. \u201cTo-day, to-day! What o\u2019clock is\nit? Seven? So late, and nothing has happened!\u201d\n\n\u201cPerhaps my uncle has heard something; he is here now, I hear him coming\nupstairs.\u201d\n\n\u201cThank God!\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, rising to receive the Penitentiary. \u201cHe\nwill have good news for us.\u201d\n\nDon Inocencio entered hastily. His altered countenance showed that his\nsoul, consecrated to religion and to the study of the classics, was not\nas tranquil as usual.\n\n\u201cBad news!\u201d he said, laying his hat on a chair and loosening the cords\nof his cloak.\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta turned pale.\n\n\u201cThey are arresting people,\u201d added Don Inocencio, lowering his voice,\nas if there was a soldier hidden under every chair. \u201cThey suspect, no\ndoubt, that the people here would not put up with their high-handed\nmeasures, and they have gone from house to house, arresting all who have\na reputation for bravery.\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta threw herself into an easy chair and clutched its arms\nconvulsively.\n\n\u201cIt remains to be seen whether they have allowed themselves to be\narrested,\u201d observed Remedios.\n\n\u201cMany of them have--a great many of them,\u201d said Don Inocencio, with an\napproving look, addressing Do\u00f1a Perfecta, \u201chave had time to escape, and\nhave gone with arms and horses to Villahorrenda.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd Ramos?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey told me in the cathedral that he is the one they are looking for\nmost eagerly. Oh, my God! to arrest innocent people in that way, who\nhave done nothing yet. Well, I don\u2019t know how good Spaniards can have\npatience under such treatment. Se\u00f1ora Do\u00f1a Perfecta, when I was telling\nyou about the arrests, I forgot to say that you ought to go home at\nonce.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, I will go at once. Have those bandits searched my house?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is possible. Se\u00f1ora, we have fallen upon evil days,\u201d said Don\nInocencio, in solemn and feeling accents. \u201cMay God have pity upon us!\u201d\n\n\u201cThere are half a dozen well-armed men in my house,\u201d responded the lady,\ngreatly agitated. \u201cWhat iniquity! Would they be capable of wanting to\ncarry them off too?\u201d\n\n\u201cAssuredly Se\u00f1or Pinzon will not have neglected to denounce them.\nSe\u00f1ora, I repeat that we have fallen upon evil days. But God will\nprotect the innocent.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am going now. Don\u2019t fail to stop in at the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1ora, as soon as the lesson is over--though I imagine that with the\nexcitement that there is in the town, all the boys will play truant\nto-day----But in any case I will go to the house after class hours.\nI don\u2019t wish you to go out alone, se\u00f1ora. Those vagabond soldiers are\nstrutting about the streets with such insolent airs. Jacinto, Jacinto!\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not necessary. I will go alone.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet Jacinto go with you,\u201d said the young man\u2019s mother. \u201cHe must be up\nby this time.\u201d\n\nThey heard the hurried footsteps of the little doctor, who was coming\ndown the stairs in the greatest haste. He entered the room with flushed\nface and panting for breath.\n\n\u201cWhat is the matter?\u201d asked his uncle.\n\n\u201cIn the Troyas\u2019 house,\u201d said the young man, \u201cin the house of\nthose--those girls--\u201d\n\n\u201cFinish at once!\u201d\n\n\u201cCaballuco is there!\u201d\n\n\u201cUp there? In the house of the Troyas?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, se\u00f1or. He spoke to me from the terrace, and he told me he was\nafraid they were coming there to arrest him.\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, what a fool! That idiot is going to allow himself to be arrested!\u201d\n exclaimed Do\u00f1a Perfecta, tapping the floor impatiently with her foot.\n\n\u201cHe wants to come down and let us hide him in the house.\u201d\n\n\u201cHere?\u201d\n\nThe canon and his niece exchanged a glance.\n\n\u201cLet him come down!\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta vehemently.\n\n\u201cHere?\u201d repeated Don Inocencio, with a look of ill-humor.\n\n\u201cHere,\u201d answered the lady. \u201cI don\u2019t know of any house where he would be\nmore secure.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe can let himself down easily from the window of my room,\u201d said\nJacinto.\n\n\u201cWell, if it is necessary----\u201d\n\n\u201cMaria Remedios,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, \u201cif they take that man, all is\nlost.\u201d\n\n\u201cI am a fool and a simpleton,\u201d answered the canon\u2019s niece, laying her\nhand on her breast and stifling the sigh that was doubtless about to\nescape from it; \u201cbut they shall not take him.\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta went out quickly, and shortly afterward the Centaur was\nmaking himself comfortable in the arm-chair in which Don Inocencio was\naccustomed to sit when he was writing his sermons.\n\nWe do not know how it reached the ears of Brigadier Batalla, but certain\nit is that this active soldier had had notice that the Orbajosans had\nchanged their intentions; and on the morning of this day he had ordered\nthe arrest of those whom in our rich insurrectional language we are\naccustomed to call marked. The great Caballuco escaped by a miracle,\ntaking refuge in the house of the Troyas, but not thinking himself safe\nthere he descended, as we have seen, to the holy and unsuspected mansion\nof the good canon.\n\nAt night the soldiers, established at various points of the town, kept\na strict watch on all who came in and went out, but Ramos succeeded in\nmaking his escape, cheating or perhaps without cheating the vigilance of\nthe military. This filled the measure of the rage of the Orbajosans,\nand numbers of people were conspiring in the hamlets near Villahorrenda;\nmeeting at night to disperse in the morning and prepare in this way\nthe arduous business of the insurrection. Ramos scoured the surrounding\ncountry, collecting men and arms; and as the flying columns followed\nthe Aceros into the district of Villajuan de Nahara, our chivalrous hero\nmade great progress in a very short time.\n\nAt night he ventured boldly into Orbajosa, employing stratagems and\nperhaps bribery. His popularity and the protection which he received in\nthe town served him, to a certain extent, as a safeguard; and it would\nnot be rash to affirm that the soldiers did not manifest toward\nthis daring leader of the insurrection the same rigor as toward the\ninsignificant men of the place. In Spain, and especially in time of war,\nwhich is here always demoralizing, these unworthy considerations toward\nthe great are often seen, while the little are persecuted pitilessly.\nFavored then by his boldness, by bribery, or by we know not what,\nCaballuco entered Orbajosa, gained new recruits, and collected arms and\nmoney. Either for the great security of his person or in order to save\nappearances, he did not set foot in his own house; he entered Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta\u2019s only for the purpose of treating of important affairs, and\nhe usually supped in the house of some friend, preferring always the\nrespected domicile of some priest, and especially that of Don Inocencio,\nwhere he had taken refuge on the fateful morning of the arrests.\n\nMeanwhile Batalla had telegraphed to the Government the information\nthat a plot of the rebels having been discovered its authors had been\nimprisoned, and the few who had succeeded in escaping had fled in\nvarious directions and were being actively pursued by the military.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI\n\nMARIA REMEDIOS\n\nThere is nothing more entertaining than to search for the cause of\nsome interesting event which surprises or agitates us, and nothing more\nsatisfactory than to discover it. When, seeing violent passions in open\nor concealed conflict, and led by the natural intuitive impulse which\nalways accompanies human observation we succeed in discovering the\nhidden source from which that turbulent river had derived its waters,\nwe experience a sensation very similar to the delight of the explorer or\nthe discoverer of an unknown land.\n\nThis delight Providence has now bestowed upon us; for, exploring\nthe hidden recesses of the hearts which beat in this story, we have\ndiscovered an event that is assuredly the source of the most important\nevents that we have narrated; a passion which is the first drop of water\nof the impetuous current whose course we are observing.\n\nLet us go on with our story, then. To do so, let us leave Se\u00f1ora de\nPolentinos, without concerning ourselves in regard to what may have\nhappened to her on the morning of her conversation with Maria Remedios.\nReturning to her house, full of anxiety, she found herself obliged to\nendure the apologies and the civilities of Se\u00f1or Pinzon, who assured\nher that while he lived her house should not be searched. Do\u00f1a Perfecta\nresponded haughtily, without deigning to look at him, for which reason\nhe asked her politely for an explanation of her coldness, to which\nshe replied requesting Se\u00f1or Pinzon to leave her house, deferring to a\nfuture occasion the explanation which she would require from him of his\nperfidious conduct while in it. Don Cayetano arriving at this moment,\nwords were exchanged between the two gentlemen, as between man and man;\nbut as we are more interested at present in another matter, we will\nleave the Polentinos and the lieutenant-colonel to settle matters\nbetween them as best they can, and proceed to examine the question of\nthe sources above mentioned.\n\nLet us fix our attention on Maria Remedios, an estimable woman, to whom\nit is indispensably necessary to devote a few words. She was a lady, a\nreal lady--for, notwithstanding her humble origin, the virtues of her\nuncle, Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio, also of low origin, but elevated by his\nlearning and his estimable qualities, had shed extraordinary lustre over\nthe whole family.\n\nThe love of Remedios for Jacinto was one of the strongest passions of\nwhich the maternal heart is capable. She loved him with delirium; her\nson\u2019s welfare was her first earthly consideration; she regarded him as\nthe most perfect type of beauty and talent ever created by God, and to\nsee him happy and great and powerful she would have given her whole life\nand even a part of the life to come. The maternal sentiment is the\nonly one which, because of its nobility and its sanctity, will admit\nof exaggeration; the only one which the delirium of passion does not\ndebase. Nevertheless it is a singular phenomenon, frequently observed,\nthat this exaltation of maternal affection, if not accompanied with\nabsolute purity of heart and with perfect uprightness is apt to become\nperverted and transformed into a lamentable frenzy, which may lead, like\nany other ungoverned passion, to great errors and catastrophies.\n\nIn Orbajosa Maria Remedios passed for a model of virtue and a model\nniece--perhaps she was so in reality. She served with affection all who\nneeded her services; she never gave occasion for gossip or for scandal;\nshe never mixed herself up in intrigues. She carried her religion to the\nextreme of an offensive fanaticism; she practised charity; she managed\nher uncle\u2019s house with the utmost ability; she was well received,\nadmired and kindly treated everywhere, in spite of the almost\nintolerable annoyance produced by her persistent habit of sighing and\nspeaking always in a complaining voice.\n\nBut in Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s house this excellent lady suffered a species of\n_capitis diminutio_. In times far distant and very bitter for the family\nof the good Penitentiary, Maria Remedios (since it is the truth, why\nshould it not be told?) had been a laundress in the house of Polentinos.\nAnd let it not be supposed that Do\u00f1a Perfecta looked down upon her\non this account--nothing of the kind. She behaved to her without any\nhaughtiness; she felt a real sisterly affection for her; they ate\ntogether; they prayed together; they confided their troubles to each\nother; they aided each other in their charities and in their devotions\nas well as in domestic matters; but, truth to say, there was always a\nsomething, there was always a line, invisible but which could not be\ncrossed between the improvised lady and the lady by birth and ancestry.\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta addressed Maria as \u201cthou,\u201d while the latter could never\nlay aside certain ceremonial forms. Maria Remedios always felt herself\nso insignificant in the presence of her uncle\u2019s friend that her natural\nhumility had acquired through this feeling a strange tinge of sadness.\nShe saw that the good canon was a species of perpetual Aulic councillor\nin the house; she saw her idolized Jacintillo mingling on terms of\nalmost lover-like familiarity with the young lady, and nevertheless the\npoor mother and niece visited the house as little as possible. It is to\nbe observed that Maria Remedios\u2019 dignity as a lady suffered not a little\nin Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s house, and this was disagreeable to her; for in this\nsighing spirit, too, there was, as there is in every living thing, a\nlittle pride. To see her son married to Rosarito, to see him rich and\npowerful; to see him related to Do\u00f1a Perfecta, to the se\u00f1ora--ah! this\nwas for Maria Remedios earth and heaven, this life and the next, the\npresent and the future, the supreme totality of existence. For years\nher mind and her heart had been filled by the light of this sweet hope.\nBecause of this hope she was good and she was bad; because of it she\nwas religious and humble, or fierce and daring; because of it she was\nwhatever she was--for without this idea Maria, who was the incarnation\nof her project, would not exist.\n\nIn person, Maria Remedios could not be more insignificant than she was.\nShe was remarkable for a surprising freshness and robustness which made\nher look much younger than she really was, and she always dressed in\nmourning, although her widowhood was now of long standing.\n\nFive days had passed since the entrance of Caballuco into the\nPenitentiary\u2019s house. It was evening. Remedios entered her uncle\u2019s room\nwith the lighted lamp, which she placed on the table. She then seated\nherself in front of the old man, who, for a great part of the afternoon,\nhad been sitting motionless and thoughtful in his easy chair. His\nfingers supported his chin, wrinkling up the brown skin, unshaven for\nthe past three days.\n\n\u201cDid Caballuco say he would come here to supper to-night?\u201d he asked his\nniece.\n\n\u201cYes, se\u00f1or, he will come. It is in a respectable house like this that\nthe poor fellow is most secure.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, I am not altogether easy in my mind, in spite of the\nrespectability of the house,\u201d answered the Penitentiary. \u201cHow the brave\nRamos exposes himself! And I am told that in Villahorrenda and the\nsurrounding country there are a great many men. I don\u2019t know how many\nmen----What have you heard?\u201d\n\n\u201cThat the soldiers are committing atrocities.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is a miracle that those Hottentots have not searched the house! I\ndeclare that if I see one of the red-trousered gentry enter the house, I\nshall fall down speechless.\u201d\n\n\u201cThis is a nice condition of things!\u201d said Remedios, exhaling half her\nsoul in a sigh. \u201cI cannot get out of my head the idea of the tribulation\nin which Se\u00f1ora Do\u00f1a Perfecta finds herself. Uncle, you ought to go\nthere.\u201d\n\n\u201cGo there to-night? The military are parading the streets! Imagine that\nsome insolent soldier should take it into his head to----The se\u00f1ora is\nwell protected. The other day they searched the house and they carried\noff the six armed men she had there; but afterward they sent them back\nto her. We have no one to protect us in case of an attack.\u201d\n\n\u201cI sent Jacinto to the se\u00f1ora\u2019s, to keep her company for a while. If\nCaballuco comes, we will tell him to stop in there, too. No one can\nput it out of my head but that those rascals are plotting some piece of\nvillany against our friend. Poor se\u00f1ora, poor Rosarito! When one thinks\nthat this might have been avoided by what I proposed to Do\u00f1a Perfecta\ntwo days ago----\u201d\n\n\u201cMy dear niece,\u201d said the Penitentiary phlegmatically, \u201cwe have done all\nthat it was in human power to do to carry out our virtuous purpose.\nMore we cannot do. Convince yourself of this, and do not be obstinate.\nRosarito cannot be the wife of our idolized Jacintillo. Your golden\ndream, your ideal of happiness, that at one time seemed attainable,\nand to which like a good uncle, I devoted all the powers of my\nunderstanding, has become chimerical, has vanished into smoke. Serious\nobstructions, the wickedness of a man, the indubitable love of the girl,\nand other things, regarding which I am silent, have altered altogether\nthe condition of affairs. We were in a fair way to conquer, and suddenly\nwe are conquered. Ah, niece! convince yourself of one thing. As matters\nare now, Jacinto deserves something a great deal better than that crazy\ngirl.\u201d\n\n\u201cCaprices and obstinate notions!\u201d responded Maria, with an ill-humor\nthat was far from respectful. \u201cThat\u2019s a pretty thing to say now, uncle!\nThe great minds are outshining themselves, now. Do\u00f1a Perfecta with her\nlofty ideas, and you with your doubts and fears--of much use either\nof you is. It is a pity that God made me such a fool and gave me an\nunderstanding of brick and mortar, as the se\u00f1ora says, for if that\nwasn\u2019t the case I would soon settle the question.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou?\u201d\n\n\u201cIf she and you had allowed me, it would be settled already.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy the beating?\u201d\n\n\u201cThere\u2019s no occasion for you to be frightened or to open your eyes like\nthat. There is no question of killing any body. What an idea!\u201d\n\n\u201cBeating,\u201d said the canon, smiling, \u201cis like scratching--when one begins\none doesn\u2019t know when to leave off.\u201d\n\n\u201cBah! say too that I am cruel and blood-thirsty. I wouldn\u2019t have the\ncourage to kill a fly; it\u2019s not very likely that I should desire the\ndeath of a man.\u201d\n\n\u201cIn fine, child, no matter what objections you may make, Se\u00f1or Don Pepe\nRey will carry off the girl. It is not possible now to prevent it. He\nis ready to employ every means, including dishonor. If Rosarito--how\nshe deceived us with that demure little face and those heavenly eyes,\neh!--if Rosarito, I say, did not herself wish it, then all might be\narranged, but alas! she loves him as the sinner loves Satan; she is\nconsumed with a criminal passion; she has fallen, niece, into the snares\nof the Evil One. Let us be virtuous and upright; let us turn our eyes\naway from the ignoble pair, and think no more about either of them.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou know nothing about women, uncle,\u201d said Remedios, with flattering\nhypocrisy; \u201cyou are a holy man; you do not understand that Rosario\u2019s\nfeeling is only a passing caprice, one of those caprices that are cured\nby a sound whipping.\u201d\n\n\u201cNiece,\u201d said Don Inocencio gravely and sententiously, \u201cwhen serious\nthings have taken place, caprices are not called caprices, but by\nanother name.\u201d\n\n\u201cUncle, you don\u2019t know what you are talking about,\u201d responded Maria\nRemedios, her face flushing suddenly. \u201cWhat! would you be capable of\nsupposing that Rosarito--what an atrocity! I will defend her; yes, I\nwill defend her. She is as pure as an angel. Why, uncle, those things\nbring a blush to my cheek, and make me indignant with you.\u201d\n\nAs she spoke the good priest\u2019s face was darkened by a cloud of sadness\nthat made him look ten years older.\n\n\u201cMy dear Remedios,\u201d he said, \u201cwe have done all that is humanly possible,\nand all that in conscience we can or ought to do. Nothing could be more\nnatural than our desire to see Jacintillo connected with that great\nfamily, the first in Orbajosa; nothing more natural than our desire\nto see him master of the seven houses in the town, the meadow of\nMundogrande, the three gardens of the upper farm, La Encomienda, and the\nother lands and houses which that girl owns. Your son has great merit,\nevery one knows it well. Rosarito liked him, and he liked Rosarito.\nThe matter seemed settled. Do\u00f1a Perfecta herself, without being very\nenthusiastic, doubtless on account of our origin, seemed favorably\ndisposed toward it, because of her great esteem and veneration for\nme, as her confessor and friend. But suddenly this unlucky young man\npresents himself. The se\u00f1ora tells me that she has given her word to\nher brother, and that she cannot reject the proposal made by him. A\ndifficult situation! But what do I do in view of all this? Ah, you don\u2019t\nknow every thing! I will be frank with you. If I had found Se\u00f1or de\nRey to be a man of good principles, calculated to make Rosario happy, I\nwould not have interfered in the matter; but the young man appeared to\nme to be a wretch, and, as the spiritual director of the house, it was\nmy duty to take a hand in the business, and I took it. You know already\nthat I determined to unmask him. I exposed his vices; I made manifest\nhis atheism; I laid bare to the view of all the rottenness of that\nmaterialistic heart, and the se\u00f1ora was convinced that in giving her\ndaughter to him, she would be delivering her up to vice. Ah, what\nanxieties I endured! The se\u00f1ora vacillated; I strengthened her wavering\nmind; I advised her concerning the means she might lawfully employ to\nsend her nephew away without scandal. I suggested ingenious ideas to\nher; and as she often spoke to me of the scruples that troubled her\ntender conscience, I tranquillized her, pointing out to her how far\nit was allowable for us to go in our fight against that lawless enemy.\nNever did I counsel violent or sanguinary measures or base outrages, but\nalways subtle artifices, in which there was no sin. My mind is tranquil,\nmy dear niece. But you know that I struggled hard, that I worked like a\nnegro. Ah! when I used to come home every night and say, \u2018Mariquilla, we\nare getting on well, we are getting on very well,\u2019 you used to be wild\nwith delight, and you would kiss my hands again and again, and say I was\nthe best man on earth. Why do you fly into a passion now, disfiguring\nyour noble character and peaceable disposition? Why do you scold me? Why\ndo you say that you are indignant, and tell me in plain terms that I am\nnothing better than an idiot?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause,\u201d said the woman, without any diminution of her rage, \u201cbecause\nyou have grown faint-hearted all of a sudden.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe thing is that every thing is going against us, woman. That\nconfounded engineer, protected as he is by the army, is resolved to dare\nevery thing. The girl loves him, the girl--I will say no more. It cannot\nbe; I tell you that it cannot be.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe army! But do you believe, like Do\u00f1a Perfecta, that there is\ngoing to be a war, and that to drive Don Pepe from the town it will be\nnecessary for one half of the nation to rise up against the other\nhalf? The se\u00f1ora has lost her senses, and you are in a fair way to lose\nyours.\u201d\n\n\u201cI believe as she does. In view of the intimate connection of Rey with\nthe soldiers the personal question assumes larger proportions. But, ah,\nniece! if two days ago I entertained the hope that our valiant townsmen\nwould kick the soldiers out of the town, since I have seen the turn\nthings have taken, since I have seen that most of them have been\nsurprised before fighting, and that Caballuco is in hiding and that\nthe insurrection is going to the devil, I have lost confidence in every\nthing. The good doctrines have not yet acquired sufficient material\nforce to tear in pieces the ministers and the emissaries of error. Ah,\nniece! resignation, resignation!\u201d\n\nAnd Don Inocencio, employing the method of expression which\ncharacterized his niece, heaved two or three profound sighs. Maria,\ncontrary to what might have been expected, maintained absolute silence.\nShe showed now neither anger nor the superficial sentimentality of her\nordinary life; but only a profound and humble grief. Shortly after the\ngood canon had ended his peroration two tears rolled down his niece\u2019s\nrosy cheeks; before long were heard a few half-suppressed sighs, and\ngradually, as the swell and tumult of a sea that is beginning to be\nstormy rise higher and higher and become louder and louder, so the surge\nof Maria Remedios\u2019 grief rose and swelled, until it at last broke forth\nin a flood of tears.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII\n\nA CANON\u2019S TORTURE\n\n\u201cResignation, resignation!\u201d repeated Don Inocencio.\n\n\u201cResignation, resignation!\u201d repeated his niece, drying her tears. \u201cIf my\ndear son is doomed to be always a beggar, well, then, be it so. Lawsuits\nare becoming scarce; the day will soon come when the practice of the law\nwill be the same as nothing. What is the use of all his talent? What is\nthe use of his tiring his brain with so much study? Ah! We are poor.\nA day will come, Se\u00f1or Don Inocencio, when my poor boy will not have a\npillow on which to lay his head.\u201d\n\n\u201cWoman!\u201d\n\n\u201cMan! can you deny it? Tell me, then, what inheritance are you going\nto leave him when you close your eyes on this world? A couple of rooms,\nhalf a dozen big books, poverty, and nothing more. What times are before\nus, uncle; what times! My poor boy is growing very delicate in his\nhealth, and he won\u2019t be able to work--it makes him dizzy now to read a\nbook; he gets a headache and nausea whenever he works at night! He will\nhave to beg a paltry situation; I shall have to take in sewing, and who\nknows, who knows but we may have to beg our bread!\u201d\n\n\u201cWoman!\u201d\n\n\u201cOh, I know very well what I am talking about! Fine times before us!\u201d\n added the excellent woman, forcing still more the lachrymose note in\nher diatribe. \u201cMy God! What is going to become of us? Ah, it is only a\nmother\u2019s heart that can feel these things! Only a mother is capable\nof suffering so much anxiety about a son\u2019s welfare. How should you\nunderstand it? No; it is one thing to have children and to suffer\nanxiety on their account and another to sing the _gori gori_ in the\ncathedral and to teach Latin in the institute. Of great use is it for\nmy son to be your nephew and to have taken so many honors and to be\nthe pride and ornament of Orbajosa. He will die of starvation, for we\nalready know what law brings; or else he will have to ask the deputies\nfor a situation in Havana, where the yellow fever will kill him.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut, niece--\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, I am not grieving, I am silent now; I won\u2019t annoy you any more.\nI am very troublesome, always crying and sighing; and I am not to be\nendured because I am a fond mother and I will look out for the good of\nmy beloved son. I will die, yes, I will die in silence, and stifle my\ngrief. I will swallow my tears, in order not to annoy his reverence the\ncanon. But my idolized son will comprehend me and he won\u2019t put his hands\nto his ears as you are doing now. Woe is me! Poor Jacinto knows that\nI would die for him, and that I would purchase his happiness at the\nsacrifice of my life. Darling child of my soul! To be so deserving and\nto be forever doomed to mediocrity, to a humble station, for--don\u2019t get\nindignant, uncle--no matter what airs we put on, you will always be the\nson of Uncle Tinieblas, the sacristan of San Bernardo, and I shall\nnever be any thing more than the daughter of Ildefonso Tinieblas, your\nbrother, who used to sell crockery, and my son will be the grandson of\nthe Tinieblas--for obscure we were born, and we shall never emerge from\nour obscurity, nor own a piece of land of which we can say, \u2018This is\nmine\u2019; nor shall I ever plunge my arms up to the elbows in a sack of\nwheat threshed and winnowed on our own threshing-floor--all because of\nyour cowardice, your folly, your soft-heartedness.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut--but, niece!\u201d\n\nThe canon\u2019s voice rose higher every time he repeated this phrase, and,\nwith his hands to his ears, he shook his head from side to side with\na look of mingled grief and desperation. The shrill complaint of Maria\nRemedios grew constantly shriller, and pierced the brain of the unhappy\nand now dazed priest like an arrow. But all at once the woman\u2019s face\nbecame transformed; her plaintive wail was changed to a hard, shrill\nscream; she turned pale, her lips trembled, she clenched her hands,\na few locks of her disordered hair fell over her forehead, her eyes\nglittered, dried by the heat of the anger that glowed in her breast; she\nrose from her seat and, not like a woman, but like a harpy, cried:\n\n\u201cI am going away from here! I am going away from here with my son! We\nwill go to Madrid; I don\u2019t want my son to fret himself to death in\nthis miserable town! I am tired now of seeing that my son, under the\nprotection of the cassock, neither is nor ever will be any thing. Do you\nhear, my reverend uncle? My son and I are going away! You will never see\nus again--never!\u201d\n\nDon Inocencio had clasped his hands and was receiving the thunderbolts\nof his niece\u2019s wrath with the consternation of a criminal whom the\npresence of the executioner has deprived of his last hope.\n\n\u201cIn Heaven\u2019s name, Remedios,\u201d he murmured, in a pained voice; \u201cin the\nname of the Holy Virgin----\u201d\n\nThese fits of range of his niece, who was usually so meek, were as\nviolent as they were rare, and five or six years would sometimes pass\nwithout Don Inocencio seeing Remedios transformed into a fury.\n\n\u201cI am a mother! I am a mother! and since no one else will look out for\nmy son, I will look out for him myself!\u201d roared the improvised lioness.\n\n\u201cIn the name of the Virgin, niece, don\u2019t let your passion get the best\nof you! Remember that you are committing a sin. Let us say the Lord\u2019s\nPrayer and an Ave Maria, and you will see that this will pass away.\u201d\n\nAs he said this the Penitentiary trembled, and the perspiration stood on\nhis forehead. Poor dove in the talons of the vulture! The furious woman\ncompleted his discomfiture with these words:\n\n\u201cYou are good for nothing; you are a poltroon! My son and I will go away\nfrom this place forever, forever! I will get a position for my son, I\nwill find him a good position, do you understand? Just as I would be\nwilling to sweep the streets with my tongue if I could gain a living for\nhim in no other way, so I will move heaven and earth to find a position\nfor my boy in order that he may rise in the world and be rich, and a\nperson of consequence, and a gentleman, and a lord and great, and all\nthat there is to be--all, all!\u201d\n\n\u201cHeaven protect me!\u201d cried Don Inocencio, sinking into a chair and\nletting his head fall on his breast.\n\nThere was a pause during which the agitated breathing of the furious\nwoman could be heard.\n\n\u201cNiece,\u201d said Don Inocencio at last, \u201cyou have shortened my life by ten\nyears; you have set my blood on fire; you have put me beside myself.\nGod give me the calmness that I need to bear with you! Lord,\npatience--patience is what I ask. And you, niece, do me the favor to\nsigh and cry to your heart\u2019s content for the next ten years; for your\nconfounded mania of sniveling, greatly as it annoys me, is preferable\nto these mad fits of rage. If I did not know that you are good at\nheart----Well, for one who confessed and received communion this morning\nyou are behaving--\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, but you are the cause of it--you!\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause in the matter of Rosario and Jacinto I say to you,\nresignation?\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause when every thing is going on well you turn back and allow Se\u00f1or\nde Rey to get possession of Rosario.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd how am I going to prevent it? Do\u00f1a Perfecta is right in saying that\nyou have an understanding of brick. Do you want me to go about the town\nwith a sword, and in the twinkling of an eye to make mincemeat of the\nwhole regiment, and then confront Rey and say to him, \u2018Leave the girl in\npeace or I will cut your throat\u2019?\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, but when I advised the se\u00f1ora to give her nephew a fright, you\nopposed my advice, instead of supporting it.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are crazy with your talk about a fright.\u201d\n\n\u201cBecause when the dog is dead the madness is at an end.\u201d\n\n\u201cI cannot advise what you call a fright, and what might be a terrible\nthing.\u201d\n\n\u201cYes; because I am a cut-throat, am I not, uncle?\u201d\n\n\u201cYou know that practical jokes are vulgar. Besides, do you suppose that\nman would allow himself to be insulted? And his friends?\u201d\n\n\u201cAt night he goes out alone.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow do you know that?\u201d\n\n\u201cI know every thing; he does not take a step that I am not aware of; do\nyou understand? The widow De Cuzco keeps me informed of every thing.\u201d\n\n\u201cThere, don\u2019t set me crazy. And who is going to give him that fright?\nLet us hear.\u201d\n\n\u201cCaballuco.\u201d\n\n\u201cSo that he is disposed--\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, but he will be if you command him.\u201d\n\n\u201cCome, niece, leave me in peace. I cannot command such an atrocity. A\nfright! And what is that? Have you spoken to him already?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, se\u00f1or; but he paid no attention to me, or rather he refused. There\nare only two people in Orbajosa who can make him do what they wish by a\nsimple order--you and Do\u00f1a Perfecta.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet Do\u00f1a Perfecta order him to do it if she wishes, then. I will never\nadvise the employment of violent and brutal measures. Will you believe\nthat when Caballuco and some of his followers were talking of rising\nup in arms they could not draw a single word from me inciting them to\nbloodshed. No, not that. If Do\u00f1a Perfecta wishes to do it--\u201d\n\n\u201cShe will not do it, either. I talked with her for two hours this\nafternoon and she said that she would preach war, and help it by every\nmeans in her power; but that she would not bid one man stab another in\nthe back. She would be right in opposing it if anything serious were\nintended, but I don\u2019t want any wounds; all I want is to give him a\nfright.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, if Do\u00f1a Perfecta doesn\u2019t want to order a fright to be given to\nthe engineer, I don\u2019t either, do you understand? My conscience is before\nevery thing.\u201d\n\n\u201cVery well,\u201d returned his niece. \u201cTell Caballuco to come with me\nto-night--that is all you need say to him.\u201d\n\n\u201cAre you going out to-night?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, se\u00f1or, I am going out. Why, didn\u2019t I go out last night too?\u201d\n\n\u201cLast night? I didn\u2019t know it; if I had known it I should have been\nangry; yes, se\u00f1ora.\u201d\n\n\u201cAll you have to say to Caballuco is this: \u2018My dear Ramos, I will be\ngreatly obliged to you if you will accompany my niece on an errand\nwhich she has to do to-night, and if you will protect her, if she should\nchance to be in any danger.\u2019\u201d\n\n\u201cI can do that. To accompany you, to protect you. Ah, rogue! you want to\ndeceive me and make me your accomplice in some piece of villany.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf course--what do you suppose?\u201d said Maria Remedios ironically.\n\u201cBetween Ramos and me we are going to slaughter a great many people\nto-night.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t jest! I tell you again that I will not advise Ramos to do any\nthing that has the appearance of evil--I think he is outside.\u201d\n\nA noise at the street-door was heard, then the voice of Caballuco\nspeaking to the servant, and a little later the hero of Orbajosa entered\nthe room.\n\n\u201cWhat is the news? Give us the news, Se\u00f1or Ramos,\u201d said the priest.\n\u201cCome! If you don\u2019t give us some hope in exchange for your supper and\nour hospitality----What is going on in Villahorrenda?\u201d\n\n\u201cSomething,\u201d answered the bravo, seating himself with signs of fatigue.\n\u201cYou shall soon see whether we are good for anything or not.\u201d\n\nLike all persons who wish to make themselves appear important, Caballuco\nmade a show of great reserve.\n\n\u201cTo-night, my friend, you shall take with you, if you wish, the money\nthey have given me for--\u201d\n\n\u201cThere is good need of it. If the soldiers should get scent of it,\nhowever, they won\u2019t let me pass,\u201d said Ramos, with a brutal laugh.\n\n\u201cHold your tongue, man. We know already that you pass whenever you\nplease. Why, that would be a pretty thing! The soldiers are not\nstrait-laced gentry, and if they should become troublesome, with a\ncouple of dollars, eh? Come, I see that you are not badly armed. All you\nwant now is an eight-pounder. Pistols, eh? And a dagger too.\u201d\n\n\u201cFor any thing that might happen,\u201d said Caballuco, taking the weapon\nfrom his belt and displaying its horrible blade.\n\n\u201cIn the name of God and of the Virgin!\u201d exclaimed Maria Remedios,\nclosing her eyes and turning her face in terror, \u201cput away that thing.\nThe very sight of it terrifies me.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you won\u2019t take it ill of me,\u201d said Ramos, shutting the weapon, \u201clet\nus have supper.\u201d\n\nMaria Remedios prepared every thing quickly, in order that the hero\nmight not become impatient.\n\n\u201cListen to me a moment, Se\u00f1or Ramos,\u201d said Don Inocencio to his\nguest, when they had sat down to supper. \u201cHave you a great deal to do\nto-night?\u201d\n\n\u201cSomething there is to be done,\u201d responded the bravo. \u201cThis is the last\nnight I shall come to Orbajosa--the last. I have to look up some\nboys who remained in the town, and we are going to see how we can get\npossession of the saltpetre and the sulphur that are in the house of\nCirujeda.\u201d\n\n\u201cI asked you,\u201d said the curate amiably, filling his friend\u2019s plate,\n\u201cbecause my niece wishes you to accompany her a short distance. She has\nsome business or other to attend to, and it is a little late to be out\nalone.\u201d\n\n\u201cIs she going to Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s?\u201d asked Ramos. \u201cI was there a few\nmoments ago, but I did not want to make any delay.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow is the se\u00f1ora?\u201d\n\n\u201cA little frightened. To-night I took away the six young men I had in\nthe house.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy! don\u2019t you think they will be wanted there?\u201d said Remedios, with\nalarm.\n\n\u201cThey are wanted more in Villahorrenda. Brave men chafe at being kept in\nthe house; is it not so, Se\u00f1or Canon?\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Ramos, that house ought not to be left unprotected,\u201d said the\nPenitentiary.\n\n\u201cThe servants are enough, and more than enough. But do you suppose,\nSe\u00f1or Don Inocencio, that the brigadier employs himself in attacking the\npeople\u2019s houses?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, but you know very well that that diabolical engineer----\u201d\n\n\u201cFor that--there are not wanting brooms in the house,\u201d said Cristobal\njovially. \u201cFor in the end, there will be no help for it but to marry\nthem. After what has passed----\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Ramos,\u201d said Remedios, with sudden anger, \u201cI imagine that all you\nknow about marrying people is very little.\u201d\n\n\u201cI say that because a little while ago, when I was at the house, the\nmother and daughter seemed to be having a sort of reconciliation. Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta was kissing Rosarito over and over again, and there was no end\nto their caresses and endearments.\u201d\n\n\u201cReconciliation! With all these preparations for the war you have lost\nyour senses. But, finally, are you coming with me or not?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is not to Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s she wants to go,\u201d said the priest, \u201cbut to\nthe hotel of the widow De Cuzco. She was saying that she does not dare\nto go alone, because she is afraid of being insulted.\u201d\n\n\u201cBy whom?\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is easily understood. By that infernal engineer. Last night my niece\nmet him there, and she gave him some plain talk; and for that reason\nshe is not altogether easy in her mind to-night. The young fellow is\nrevengeful and insolent.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t know whether I can go,\u201d said Caballuco. \u201cAs I am in hiding now\nI cannot measure my strength against Don Jos\u00e9 Poquita Cosa. If I were\nnot as I am--with half my face hidden, and the other half uncovered--I\nwould have broken his back for him already twenty times over. But what\nhappens if I attack him? He discovers who I am, he falls upon me with\nthe soldiers, and good-bye to Caballuco. As for giving him a treacherous\nblow, that is something I couldn\u2019t do; nor would Do\u00f1a Perfecta consent\nto it, either. For a stab in the dark Cristobal Ramos is not the man.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut are you crazy, man? What are you thinking about?\u201d said the\nPenitentiary, with unmistakable signs of astonishment. \u201cNot even in\nthought would I advise you to do an injury to that gentleman. I would\ncut my tongue out before I would advise such a piece of villany. The\nwicked will fall, it is true; but it is God who will fix the moment,\nnot I. And the question is not to give a beating, either. I would rather\nreceive a hundred blows myself than advise the administration of such a\nmedicine to any Christian. One thing only will I say to you,\u201d he ended,\nlooking at the bravo over his spectacles, \u201cand that is, that as my\nniece is going there; and as it is probable, very probable, is it not,\nRemedios? that she may have to say a few plain words to that man,\nI recommend you not to leave her unprotected, in case she should be\ninsulted.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have something to do to-night,\u201d answered Caballuco, laconically and\ndryly.\n\n\u201cYou hear what he says, Remedios. Leave your business for to-morrow.\u201d\n\n\u201cI can\u2019t do that. I will go alone.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, you shall not go alone, niece. Now let us hear no more about the\nmatter. Se\u00f1or Ramos has something to do, and he cannot accompany you.\nFancy if you were to be insulted by that rude man!\u201d\n\n\u201cInsulted! A lady insulted by that fellow!\u201d exclaimed Caballuco. \u201cCome\nthat must not be.\u201d\n\n\u201cIf you had not something to do--bah! I should be quite easy in my mind,\nthen.\u201d\n\n\u201cI have something to do,\u201d said the Centaur, rising from the table, \u201cbut\nif you wish it----\u201d\n\nThere was a pause. The Penitentiary had closed his eyes and was\nmeditating.\n\n\u201cI wish it, Se\u00f1or Ramos,\u201d he said at last.\n\n\u201cThere is no more to be said then. Let us go, Se\u00f1ora Do\u00f1a Maria.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow, my dear niece,\u201d said Don Inocencio, half seriously, half\njestingly, \u201csince we have finished supper bring me the basin.\u201d\n\nHe gave his niece a penetrating glance, and accompanying it with the\ncorresponding action, pronounced these words:\n\n\u201cI wash my hands of the matter.\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII\n\nFROM PEPE REY TO DON JUAN REY\n\n\n\u201cORBAJOSA, April 12.\n\n\u201cMY DEAR FATHER:\n\n\u201cForgive me if for the first time in my life I disobey you in refusing\nto leave this place or to renounce my project. Your advice and your\nentreaty are what were to be expected from a kind, good father. My\nobstinacy is natural in an insensate son; but something strange is\ntaking place within me; obstinacy and honor have become so blended and\nconfounded in my mind that the bare idea of desisting from my purpose\nmakes me ashamed. I have changed greatly. The fits of rage that agitate\nme now were formerly unknown to me. I regarded the violent acts, the\nexaggerated expressions of hot-tempered and impetuous men with the\nsame scorn as the brutal actions of the wicked. Nothing of this kind\nsurprises me any longer, for in myself I find at all times a certain\nterrible capacity for wickedness. I can speak to you as I would speak to\nGod and to my conscience; I can tell you that I am a wretch, for he is a\nwretch who is wanting in that powerful moral force which enables him\nto chastise his passions and submit his life to the stern rule of\nconscience. I have been wanting in the Christian fortitude which exalts\nthe spirit of the man who is offended above the offences which he\nreceives and the enemies from whom he receives them. I have had the\nweakness to abandon myself to a mad fury, putting myself on a level with\nmy detractors, returning them blow for blow, and endeavoring to confound\nthem by methods learned in their own base school. How deeply I regret\nthat you were not at my side to turn me from this path! It is now too\nlate. The passions will not brook delay. They are impatient, and demand\ntheir prey with cries and with the convulsive eagerness of a fierce\nmoral thirst. I have succumbed. I cannot forget what you so often\nsaid to me, that anger may be called the worst of the passions, since,\nsuddenly transforming the character, it engenders all the others, and\nlends to each its own infernal fire.\n\n\u201cBut it is not anger alone that has brought me to the state of mind\nwhich I have described. A more expansive and noble sentiment--the\nprofound and ardent love which I have for my cousin, has also\ncontributed to it, and this is the one thing that absolves me in my own\nestimation. But if love had not done so, pity would have impelled me\nto brave the fury and the intrigues of your terrible sister; for poor\nRosario, placed between an irresistible affection and her mother, is\nat the present moment one of the most unhappy beings on the face of the\nearth. The love which she has for me, and which responds to mine--does\nit not give me the right to open, in whatever way I can, the doors of\nher house and take her out of it; employing the law, as far as the law\nreaches, and using force at the point where the law ceases to support\nme? I think that your rigid moral scrupulosity will not give an\naffirmative answer to this question; but I have ceased to be the upright\nand methodical character whose conscience was in exact conformity with\nthe dictates of the moral law. I am no longer the man whom an almost\nperfect education enabled to keep his emotions under strict control.\nTo-day I am a man like other men; at a single step I have crossed the\nline which separates the just and the good from the unjust and the\nwicked. Prepare yourself to hear of some dreadful act committed by me. I\nwill take care to notify you of all my misdeeds.\n\n\u201cBut the confession of my faults will not relieve me from the\nresponsibility of the serious occurrences which have taken place and\nwhich are taking place, nor will this responsibility, no matter how\nmuch I may argue, fall altogether on your sister. Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s\nresponsibility is certainly very great. What will be the extent of mine!\nAh, dear father! believe nothing of what you hear about me; believe\nonly what I shall tell you. If they tell you that I have committed a\ndeliberate piece of villany, answer that it is a lie. It is difficult,\nvery difficult, for me to judge myself, in the state of disquietude in\nwhich I am, but I dare assure you that I have not deliberately given\ncause for scandal. You know well to what extremes passion can lead when\ncircumstances favor its fierce, its all-invading growth.\n\n\u201cWhat is most bitter to me is the thought of having employed artifice,\ndeceit, and base concealments--I who was truth itself. I am humiliated\nin my own estimation. But is this the greatest perversity into which the\nsoul can fall? Am I beginning now, or have I ended? I cannot tell. If\nRosario with her angelic hand does not take me out of this hell of\nmy conscience, I desire that you should come to take me out of it. My\ncousin is an angel, and suffering, as she has done, for my sake, she has\ntaught me a great many things that I did not know before.\n\n\u201cDo not be surprised at the incoherence of what I write. Diverse\nemotions inflame me; thoughts at times assail me truly worthy of my\nimmortal soul; but at times also I fall into a lamentable state of\ndejection, and I am reminded of the weak and degenerate characters whose\nbaseness you have painted to me in such strong colors, in order that I\nmight abhor them. In the state in which I am to-day I am ready for good\nor for evil. God have pity upon me! I already know what prayer is--a\nsolemn and reflexive supplication, so personal that it is not compatible\nwith formulas learned by heart; an expansion of the soul which dares to\nreach out toward its source; the opposite of remorse, in which the\nsoul, at war with itself, seeks in vain to defend itself by sophisms\nand concealments. You have taught me many good things, but now I am\npractising; as we engineers say, I am studying on the ground; and in\nthis way my knowledge will become broadened and confirmed. I begin to\nimagine now that I am not so wicked as I myself believe. Am I right?\n\n\u201cI end this letter in haste. I must send it with some soldiers who\nare going in the direction of the station at Villahorrenda, for the\npost-office of this place is not to be trusted.\u201d\n\n\n\n\u201cAPRIL 14.\n\n\u201cIt would amuse you, dear father, if I could make you understand the\nideas of the people of this wretched town. You know already that almost\nall the country is up in arms. It was a thing to be anticipated, and\nthe politicians are mistaken if they imagine that it will be over in a\ncouple of days. Hostility to us and to the Government is innate in the\nOrbajosan\u2019s mind, and forms a part of it as much as his religious faith.\nConfining myself to the particular question with my aunt, I will tell\nyou a singular thing--the poor lady, who is penetrated by the spirit of\nfeudalism to the marrow of her bones, has taken it into her head that\nI am going to attack her house and carry off her daughter, as the\ngentlemen of the Middle Ages attacked an enemy\u2019s castle to consummate\nsome outrage. Don\u2019t laugh, for it is the truth--such are the ideas of\nthese people. I need not tell you that she regards me as a monster, as\na sort of heretic Moorish king, and of the officers here who are my\nfriends she has no better opinion. In Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s house it is a\nmatter of firm belief that the army and I have formed a diabolical and\nanti-religious coalition to rob Orbajosa of its treasures, its faith,\nand its maidens. I am sure that your sister firmly believes that I am\ngoing to take her house by assault, and there is not a doubt but that\nbehind the door some barricade has been erected.\n\n\u201cBut it could not be otherwise. Here they have the most antiquated\nideas respecting society, religion, the state, property. The religious\nexaltation which impels them to employ force against the Government, to\ndefend a faith which no one has attacked, and which, besides, they do\nnot possess, revives in their mind the feudal sentiment; and as they\nwould settle every question by brute force, with the sword and with\nfire, killing all who do not think as they do, they believe that no one\nin the world employs other methods.\n\n\u201cFar from intending to perform quixotic deeds in this lady\u2019s house, I\nhave in reality saved her some annoyances from which the rest of the\ntown have not escaped. Owing to my friendship with the brigadier she has\nnot been obliged to present, as was ordered, a list of those of the\nmen in her service who have joined the insurgents; and if her house was\nsearched I have certain knowledge that it was only for form\u2019s sake;\nand if the six men there were disarmed, they have been replaced by six\nothers, and nothing has been done to her. You see to what my hostility\nto that lady is reduced.\n\n\u201cIt is true that I have the support of the military chiefs, but I\nmake use of it solely to escape being insulted or ill-used by these\nimplacable people. The probabilities of my success consist in the fact\nthat the authorities recently appointed by the commander of the brigade\nare all my friends. I derive from them the moral force which enables\nme to intimidate these people. I don\u2019t know whether I shall find myself\ncompelled to commit some violent action; but don\u2019t be alarmed, for the\nassault and the taking of the house is altogether a wild, feudal idea of\nyour sister. Chance has placed me in an advantageous position. Rage,\nthe passion that burns within me, will impel me to profit by it. I don\u2019t\nknow how far I may go.\u201d\n\n\n\n\u201cAPRIL 17.\n\n\u201cYour letter has given me great consolation. Yes; I can attain\nmy object, employing only the resources of the law, which will be\ncompletely effectual for it. I have consulted the authorities of this\nplace, and they all approve of the course you indicate. I am very glad\nof it. Since I have put into my cousin\u2019s mind the idea of disobedience,\nlet it at least be under the protection of the law. I will do what\nyou bid me, that is to say I will renounce the somewhat unworthy\ncollaboration of Pinzon; I will break up the terrorizing solidarity\nwhich I established with the soldiers; I will cease to make a display of\nthe power I derived from them; I will have done with adventures, and\nat the fitting moment I will act with calmness, prudence, and all\nthe benignity possible. It is better so. My coalition, half-serious,\nhalf-jesting, with the army, had for its object to protect me against\nthe violence of the Orbajosans and of the servants and the relations of\nmy aunt. For the rest, I have always disapproved of the idea of what we\ncall armed intervention.\n\n\u201cThe friend who aided me has been obliged to leave the house; but I am\nnot entirely cut off from communication with my cousin. The poor girl\nshows heroic valor in the midst of her sufferings, and will obey me\nblindly.\n\n\u201cSet your mind at rest about my personal safety. For my part, I have no\nfear and I am quite tranquil.\u201d\n\n\n\n\u201cAPRIL 20.\n\n\u201cTo-day I can write only a few lines. I have a great deal to do. All\nwill be ended within two or three days. Don\u2019t write to me again to this\nmiserable town. I shall soon have the happiness of embracing you.\n\n\u201cPEPE.\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX\n\nFROM PEPE REY TO ROSARITO POLENTINOS\n\n\u201cGive Estebanillo the key of the garden and charge him to take care\nabout the dog. The boy is mine, body and soul. Fear nothing! I shall be\nvery sorry if you cannot come down stairs as you did the other night.\nDo all you can to manage it. I will be in the garden a little after\nmidnight. I will then tell you what course I have decided upon, and\nwhat you are to do. Tranquillize your mind, my dear girl, for I have\nabandoned all imprudent or violent expedients. I will tell you every\nthing when I see you. There is much to tell; and it must be spoken, not\nwritten. I can picture to myself your terror and anxiety at the thought\nof my being so near you. But it is a week since I have seen you. I have\nsworn that this separation from you shall soon be ended, and it will be\nended. My heart tells me that I shall see you. I swear that I will see\nyou.\u201d\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX\n\nBEATING UP THE GAME\n\nA man and a woman entered the hotel of the widow De Cuzco a little after\nten o\u2019clock, and left it at half-past eleven.\n\n\u201cNow, Se\u00f1ora Do\u00f1a Maria,\u201d said the man, \u201cI will take you to your house,\nfor I have something to do.\u201d\n\n\u201cWait, Se\u00f1or Ramos, for the love of God!\u201d she answered. \u201cWhy don\u2019t we\ngo to the Casino to see if he comes out? You heard just now that\nEstebanillo, the boy that works in the garden, was talking with him this\nafternoon.\u201d\n\n\u201cBut are you looking for Don Jos\u00e9?\u201d asked the Centaur, with ill-humor.\n\u201cWhat have we to do with him? The courtship with Do\u00f1a Rosario ended as\nit was bound to end, and now there is nothing for it but for my mother\nto marry them. That is my opinion.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are a fool!\u201d said Remedios angrily.\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1ora, I am going.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, you rude man, are you going to leave me alone in the street?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes, se\u00f1ora, unless you go home at once.\u201d\n\n\u201cThat\u2019s right--leave me alone, exposed to be insulted! Listen to me,\nSe\u00f1or Ramos. Don Jos\u00e9 will come out of the Casino in a moment, as usual.\nI want to see whether he goes into his hotel or goes past it. It is a\nfancy of mine, only a fancy.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat I know is that I have something to do, and that it is near twelve\no\u2019clock.\u201d\n\n\u201cSilence!\u201d said Remedios. \u201cLet us hide ourselves around the corner. A\nman is coming down the Calle de la Triperia Alta. It is he!\u201d\n\n\u201cDon Jos\u00e9! I know him by his walk.\u201d\n\n\u201cLet us follow him,\u201d said Maria Remedios with anxiety. \u201cLet us follow\nhim at a little distance, Ramos.\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1ora--\u201d\n\n\u201cOnly a minute, then, Do\u00f1a Remedios. After that I must go.\u201d\n\nThey walked on about thirty paces, keeping at a moderate distance behind\nthe man they were watching. The Penitentiary\u2019s niece stopped then and\nsaid:\n\n\u201cHe is not going into his hotel.\u201d\n\n\u201cHe may be going to the brigadier\u2019s.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe brigadier lives up the street, and Don Pepe is going down in the\ndirection of the se\u00f1ora\u2019s house.\u201d\n\n\u201cOf the se\u00f1ora\u2019s house!\u201d exclaimed Caballuco, quickening his steps.\n\nBut they were mistaken. The man whom they were watching passed the house\nof Polentinos and walked on.\n\n\u201cDo you see that you were wrong?\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1or Ramos, let us follow him!\u201d said Remedios, pressing the Centaur\u2019s\nhand convulsively. \u201cI have a foreboding.\u201d\n\n\u201cWe shall soon know, for we are near the end of the town.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t go so fast--he may see us. It is as I thought, Se\u00f1or Ramos; he is\ngoing into the garden by the condemned door.\u201d\n\n\u201cSe\u00f1ora, you have lost your senses!\u201d\n\n\u201cCome on, and we shall see.\u201d\n\nThe night was dark, and the watchers could not tell precisely at what\npoint Se\u00f1or de Rey had entered; but a grating of rusty hinges which they\nheard, and the circumstance of not meeting the young man in the whole\nlength of the garden wall, convinced them that he had entered the\ngarden. Caballuco looked at his companion with stupefaction. He seemed\nbewildered.\n\n\u201cWhat are you thinking about? Do you still doubt?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat ought I to do?\u201d asked the bravo, covered with confusion. \u201cShall we\ngive him a fright? I don\u2019t know what the se\u00f1ora would think about it.\nI say that because I was at her house this evening, and it seemed to me\nthat the mother and daughter had become reconciled.\u201d\n\n\u201cDon\u2019t be a fool! Why don\u2019t you go in?\u201d\n\n\u201cNow I remember that the armed men are not there; I told them to leave\nthis evening.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd this block of marble still doubts what he ought to do! Ramos, go\ninto the garden and don\u2019t be a coward.\u201d\n\n\u201cHow can I go in if the door is closed?\u201d\n\n\u201cGet over the wall. What a snail! If I were a man----\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, then, up! There are some broken bricks here where the boys climb\nover the wall to steal the fruit.\u201d\n\n\u201cUp quickly! I will go and knock at the front door to waken the se\u00f1ora,\nif she should be asleep.\u201d\n\nThe Centaur climbed up, not without difficulty. He sat astride on the\nwall for an instant, and then disappeared among the dark foliage of the\ntrees. Maria Remedios ran desperately toward the Calle del Condestable,\nand, seizing the knocker of the front door, knocked--knocked three times\nwith all her heart and soul.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXI\n\nDONA PERFECTA\n\nSee with what tranquillity Se\u00f1ora Do\u00f1a Perfecta pursues her occupation\nof writing. Enter her room, and, notwithstanding the lateness of the\nhour, you will surprise her busily engaged, her mind divided between\nmeditation and the writing of several long and carefully worded epistles\ntraced with a firm hand, every hair-stroke of every letter in which is\ncorrectly formed. The light of the lamp falls full upon her face and\nbust and hands, its shade leaving the rest of her person and almost the\nwhole of the room in a soft shadow. She seems like a luminous figure\nevoked by the imagination from amid the vague shadows of fear.\n\nIt is strange that we should not have made before this a very important\nstatement, which is that Do\u00f1a Perfecta was handsome, or rather that she\nwas still handsome, her face preserving the remains of former beauty.\nThe life of the country, her total lack of vanity, her disregard for\ndress and personal adornment, her hatred of fashion, her contempt for\nthe vanities of the capital, were all causes why her native beauty\ndid not shine or shone very little. The intense shallowness of her\ncomplexion, indicating a very bilious constitution, still further\nimpaired her beauty.\n\nHer eyes black and well-opened, her nose finely and delicately shaped,\nher forehead broad and smooth, she was considered by all who saw her as\na finished type of the human figure; but there rested on those\nfeatures a certain hard and proud expression which excited a feeling\nof antipathy. As some persons, although ugly, attract; Do\u00f1a Perfecta\nrepelled. Her glance, even when accompanied by amiable words, placed\nbetween herself and those who were strangers to her the impassable\ndistance of a mistrustful respect; but for those of her house--that\nis to say, for her relations, admirers, and allies--she possessed a\nsingular attraction. She was a mistress in governing, and no one could\nequal her in the art of adapting her language to the person whom she was\naddressing.\n\nHer bilious temperament and an excessive association with devout persons\nand things, which excited her imagination without object or result, had\naged her prematurely, and although she was still young she did not seem\nso. It might be said of her that with her habits and manner of life she\nhad wrought a sort of rind, a stony, insensible covering within which\nshe shut herself, like the snail within his portable house. Do\u00f1a\nPerfecta rarely came out of her shell.\n\nHer irreproachable habits, and that outward amiability which we have\nobserved in her from the moment of her appearance in our story, were the\ncauses of the great prestige which she enjoyed in Orbajosa. She kept\nup relations, besides, with some excellent ladies in Madrid, and it was\nthrough their means that she obtained the dismissal of her nephew. At\nthe moment which we have now arrived in our story, we find her seated at\nher desk, which is the sole confidant of her plans and the depository of\nher numerical accounts with the peasants, and of her moral accounts\nwith God and with society. There she wrote the letters which her brother\nreceived every three months; there she composed the notes that incited\nthe judge and the notary to embroil Pepe Rey in lawsuits; there she\nprepared the plot through which the latter lost the confidence of the\nGovernment; there she held long conferences with Don Inocencio. To\nbecome acquainted with the scene of others of her actions whose effects\nwe have observed, it would be necessary to follow her to the episcopal\npalace and to the houses of various of her friends.\n\nWe do not know what Do\u00f1a Perfecta would have been, loving. Hating, she\nhad the fiery vehemence of an angel of hatred and discord among men.\nSuch is the effect produced on a character naturally hard, and without\ninborn goodness, by religious exaltation, when this, instead of drawing\nits nourishment from conscience and from truth revealed in principles as\nsimple as they are beautiful, seeks its sap in narrow formulas dictated\nsolely by ecclesiastical interests. In order that religious fanaticism\nshould be inoffensive, the heart in which it exists must be very pure.\nIt is true that even in that case it is unproductive of good. But the\nhearts that have been born without the seraphic purity which establishes\na premature Limbo on the earth, are careful not to become greatly\ninflamed with what they see in retables, in choirs, in locutories and\nsacristies, unless they have first erected in their own consciences an\naltar, a pulpit, and a confessional.\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta left her writing from time to time, to go into the\nadjoining room where her daughter was. Rosarito had been ordered to\nsleep, but, already precipitated down the precipice of disobedience, she\nwas awake.\n\n\u201cWhy don\u2019t you sleep?\u201d her mother asked her. \u201cI don\u2019t intend to go to\nbed to-night. You know already that Caballuco has taken away with him\nthe men we had here. Something might happen, and I will keep watch. If I\ndid not watch what would become of us both?\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat time is it?\u201d asked the girl.\n\n\u201cIt will soon be midnight. Perhaps you are not afraid, but I am.\u201d\n\nRosarito was trembling, and every thing about her denoted the keenest\nanxiety. She lifted her eyes to heaven supplicatingly, and then turned\nthem on her mother with a look of the utmost terror.\n\n\u201cWhy, what is the matter with you?\u201d\n\n\u201cDid you not say it was midnight?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cThen----But is it already midnight?\u201d\n\nRosario made an effort to speak, then shook her head, on which the\nweight of a world was pressing.\n\n\u201cSomething is the matter with you; you have something on your mind,\u201d\n said her mother, fixing on her daughter her penetrating eyes.\n\n\u201cYes--I wanted to tell you,\u201d stammered the girl, \u201cI wanted to\nsay----Nothing, nothing, I will go to sleep.\u201d\n\n\u201cRosario, Rosario! your mother can read your heart like an open book,\u201d\n exclaimed Do\u00f1a Perfecta with severity. \u201cYou are agitated. I have told\nyou already that I am willing to pardon you if you will repent; if you\nare a good and sensible girl.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy, am I not good? Ah, mamma, mamma! I am dying!\u201d\n\nRosario burst into a flood of bitter and disconsolate tears.\n\n\u201cWhat are these tears about?\u201d said her mother, embracing her. \u201cIf they\nare tears of repentance, blessed be they.\u201d\n\n\u201cI don\u2019t repent, I can\u2019t repent!\u201d cried the girl, in a burst of sublime\ndespair.\n\nShe lifted her head and in her face was depicted a sudden inspired\nstrength. Her hair fell in disorder over her shoulders. Never was there\nseen a more beautiful image of a rebellious angel.\n\n\u201cWhat is this? Have you lost your senses?\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, laying\nboth her hands on her daughter\u2019s shoulders.\n\n\u201cI am going away, I am going away!\u201d said the girl, with the exaltation\nof delirium.\n\nAnd she sprang out of bed.\n\n\u201cRosario, Rosario----My daughter! For God\u2019s sake, what is this?\u201d\n\n\u201cAh, mamma, se\u00f1ora!\u201d exclaimed the girl, embracing her mother; \u201cbind me\nfast!\u201d\n\n\u201cIn truth you would deserve it. What madness is this?\u201d\n\n\u201cBind me fast! I am going away--I am going away with him!\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta felt a flood of fire surging from her heart up to her\nlips. She controlled herself, however, and answered her daughter only\nwith her eyes, blacker than the night.\n\n\u201cMamma, mamma, I hate all that is not he!\u201d exclaimed Rosario. \u201cHear my\nconfession, for I wish to confess it to every one, and to you first of\nall.\u201d\n\n\u201cYou are going to kill me; you are killing me!\u201d\n\n\u201cI want to confess it, so that you may pardon me. This weight, this\nweight that is pressing me down, will not let me live.\u201d\n\n\u201cThe weight of a sin! Add to it the malediction of God, and see if you\ncan carry that burden about with you, wretched girl! Only I can take it\nfrom you.\u201d\n\n\u201cNo, not you, not you!\u201d cried Rosario, with desperation. \u201cBut hear me; I\nwant to confess it all, all! Afterward, turn me out of this house where\nI was born.\u201d\n\n\u201cI turn you out!\u201d\n\n\u201cI will go away, then.\u201d\n\n\u201cStill less. I will teach you a daughter\u2019s duty, which you have\nforgotten.\u201d\n\n\u201cI will fly, then; he will take me with him!\u201d\n\n\u201cHas he told you to do so? has he counselled you to do that? has he\ncommanded you to do that?\u201d asked the mother, launching these words like\nthunderbolts against her daughter.\n\n\u201cHe has counselled me to do it. We have agreed to be married. We must be\nmarried, mamma, dear mamma. I will love you--I know that I ought to love\nyou--I shall be forever lost if I do not love you.\u201d\n\nShe wrung her hands, and falling on her knees kissed her mother\u2019s feet.\n\n\u201cRosario, Rosario!\u201d cried Do\u00f1a Perfecta, in a terrible voice, \u201crise!\u201d\n\nThere was a short pause.\n\n\u201cThis man--has he written to you?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd have you seen him again since that night?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cAnd you have written to him!\u201d\n\n\u201cI have written to him also. Oh, se\u00f1ora! why do you look at me in that\nway? You are not my mother.\n\n\u201cWould to God that I were not! Rejoice in the harm you are doing me. You\nare killing me; you have given me my death-blow!\u201d cried Do\u00f1a Perfecta,\nwith indescribable agitation. \u201cYou say that this man--\u201d\n\n\u201cIs my husband--I will be his wife, protected by the law. You are not a\nwoman! Why do you look at me in that way? You make me tremble. Mother,\nmother, do not condemn me!\u201d\n\n\u201cYou have already condemned yourself--that is enough. Obey me, and I\nwill forgive you. Answer me--when did you receive letters from that\nman?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo-day.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhat treachery! What infamy!\u201d cried her mother, roaring rather than\nspeaking. \u201cHad you appointed a meeting?\u201d\n\n\u201cYes.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhen?\u201d\n\n\u201cTo-night.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhere?\u201d\n\n\u201cHere, here! I will confess every thing, every thing! I know it is a\ncrime. I am a wretch; but you who are my mother will take me out of this\nhell. Give your consent. Say one word to me, only one word!\u201d\n\n\u201cThat man here in my house!\u201d cried Do\u00f1a Perfecta, springing back several\npaces from her daughter.\n\nRosario followed her on her knees. At the same instant three blows were\nheard, three crashes, three reports. It was the heart of Maria Remedios\nknocking at the door through the knocker. The house trembled with awful\ndread. Mother and daughter stood motionless as statues.\n\nA servant went down stairs to open the door, and shortly afterward Maria\nRemedios, who was not now a woman but a basilisk enveloped in a mantle,\nentered Do\u00f1a Perfecta\u2019s room. Her face, flushed with anxiety, exhaled\nfire.\n\n\u201cHe is there, he is there!\u201d she said, as she entered. \u201cHe got into the\ngarden through the condemned door.\u201d\n\nShe paused for breath at every syllable.\n\n\u201cI know already,\u201d returned Do\u00f1a Perfecta, with a sort of bellow.\n\nRosario fell senseless on the floor.\n\n\u201cLet us go down stairs,\u201d said Do\u00f1a Perfecta, without paying any\nattention to her daughter\u2019s swoon.\n\nThe two women glided down stairs like two snakes. The maids and the\nman-servant were in the hall, not knowing what to do. Do\u00f1a Perfecta\npassed through the dining-room into the garden, followed by Maria\nRemedios.\n\n\u201cFortunately we have Ca-Ca-Ca-balluco there,\u201d said the canon\u2019s niece.\n\n\u201cWhere?\u201d\n\n\u201cIn the garden, also. He cli-cli-climbed over the wall.\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta explored the darkness with her wrathful eyes. Rage gave\nthem the singular power of seeing in the dark peculiar to the feline\nrace.\n\n\u201cI see a figure there,\u201d she said. \u201cIt is going toward the oleanders.\u201d\n\n\u201cIt is he!\u201d cried Remedios. \u201cBut there comes Ramos--Ramos!\u201d\n\nThe colossal figure of the Centaur was plainly distinguishable.\n\n\u201cToward the oleanders, Ramos! Toward the oleanders!\u201d\n\nDo\u00f1a Perfecta took a few steps forward. Her hoarse voice, vibrating with\na terrible accent, hissed forth these words:\n\n\u201cCristobal, Cristobal--kill him!\u201d\n\nA shot was heard. Then another.\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII\n\nCONCLUSION\n\nFrom Don Cayetano Polentinos to a friend in Madrid:\n\n\n\u201cORBAJOSA, April 21.\n\n\u201cMY DEAR FRIEND:\n\n\u201cSend me without delay the edition of 1562 that you say you have picked\nup at the executor\u2019s sale of the books of Corchuelo. I will pay any\nprice for that copy. I have been long searching for it in vain, and I\nshall esteem myself the most enviable of virtuosos in possessing it.\nYou ought to find in the colophon a helmet with a motto over the\nword \u2018Tractado,\u2019 and the tail of the X of the date MDLXII ought to be\ncrooked. If your copy agrees with these signs send me a telegraphic\ndespatch at once, for I shall be very anxious until I receive it. But\nnow I remember that, on account of these vexatious and troublesome wars,\nthe telegraph is not working. I shall await your answer by return of\nmail.\n\n\u201cI shall soon go to Madrid for the purpose of having my long delayed\nwork, the \u2018Genealogies of Orbajosa,\u2019 printed. I appreciate your\nkindness, my dear friend, but I cannot accept your too flattering\nexpressions. My work does not indeed deserve the high encomiums you\nbestow upon it; it is a work of patience and study, a rude but solid and\nmassive monument which I shall have erected to the past glories of my\nbeloved country. Plain and humble in its form, it is noble in the idea\nthat inspired it, which was solely to direct the eyes of this proud and\nunbelieving generation to the marvellous deeds and the pure virtues of\nour forefathers. Would that the studious youth of our country might take\nthe step to which with all my strength I incite them! Would that the\nabominable studies and methods of reasoning introduced by philosophic\nlicense and erroneous doctrines might be forever cast into oblivion!\nWould that our learned men might occupy themselves exclusively in the\ncontemplation of those glorious ages, in order that, this generation\nbeing penetrated with their essence and their beneficent sap, its insane\neagerness for change, and its ridiculous mania for appropriating\nto itself foreign ideas which conflict with our beautiful national\nconstitution, might disappear. I fear greatly that among the crowd of\nmad youth who pursue vain Utopias and heathenish novelties, my desires\nare not destined to be fulfilled, and that the contemplation of the\nillustrious virtues of the past will remain confined within the same\nnarrow circle as to-day. What is to be done, my friend? I am afraid that\nvery soon our poor Spain is doomed to be so disfigured that she will\nnot be able to recognize herself, even beholding herself in the bright\nmirror of her stainless history.\n\n\u201cI do not wish to close this letter without informing you of a\ndisagreeable event--the unfortunate death of an estimable young man,\nwell known in Madrid, the civil engineer Don Jos\u00e9 de Rey, a nephew of my\nsister-in-law. This melancholy event occurred last night in the garden\nof our house, and I have not yet been able to form a correct judgment\nregarding the causes that may have impelled the unfortunate Rey to\nthis horrible and criminal act. According to what Perfecta told me\nthis morning, on my return from Mundo Grande, Pepe Rey at about twelve\no\u2019clock last night entered the garden of the house and shot himself\nin the right temple, expiring instantly. Imagine the consternation and\nalarm which such an event would produce in this peaceable and virtuous\nmansion. Poor Perfecta was so greatly affected that we were for a\ntime alarmed about her; but she is better now, and this afternoon we\nsucceeded in inducing her to take a little broth. We employ every means\nof consoling her, and as she is a good Christian, she knows how to\nsupport with edifying resignation even so great a misfortune as this.\n\n\u201cBetween you and me, my friend, I will say here that in young Rey\u2019s\nfatal attempt upon his life, I believe the moving causes to have been an\nunfortunate attachment, perhaps remorse for his conduct, and the state\nof hypochondriasm into which he had fallen. I esteemed him greatly; I\nthink he was not lacking in excellent qualities; but he was held in such\ndisrepute here that never once have I heard any one speak well of him.\nAccording to what they say, he made a boast of the most extravagant\nideas and opinions; he mocked at religion, entered the church smoking\nand with his hat on; he respected nothing, and for him there was\nneither modesty, nor virtue, nor soul, nor ideal, nor faith--nothing but\ntheodolites, squares, rules, engines, pick-axes, and spades. What do you\nthing of that? To be just, I must say that in his conversations with me\nhe always concealed these ideas, doubtless through fear of being utterly\nrouted by the fire of my arguments; but in public innumerable stories\nare told of his heretical ideas and his stupendous excesses.\n\n\u201cI cannot continue, my dear friend, for at this moment I hear firing.\nAs I have no love for fighting, and as I am not a soldier, my pulse\ntrembles a little. In due time I will give you further particulars of\nthis war.\n\n\u201cYours affectionately, etc., etc.\u201d\n\n\n\n\u201cAPRIL 22.\n\n\u201cMY EVER-REMEMBERED FRIEND:\n\n\u201cTo-day we have had a bloody skirmish on the outskirts of Orbajosa. The\nlarge body of men raised in Villahorrenda were attacked by the troops\nwith great fury. There was great loss in killed and wounded on both\nsides. After the combat the brave guerillas dispersed, but they are\ngreatly encouraged, and it is possible that you may hear of wonderful\nthings. Cristobal Caballuco, the son of the famous Caballuco whom you\nwill remember in the last war, though suffering from a wound in the arm,\nhow or when received is not known, commanded them. The present leader\nhas eminent qualifications for the command; and he is, besides, an\nhonest and simple-hearted man. As we must finally come to a friendly\narrangement, I presume that Caballuco will be made a general in the\nSpanish army, whereby both sides will gain greatly.\n\n\u201cI deplore this war, which is beginning to assume alarming proportions;\nbut I recognize that our valiant peasants are not responsible for it,\nsince they have been provoked to the inhuman conflict by the audacity of\nthe Government, by the demoralization of its sacrilegious delegates; by\nthe systematic fury with which the representatives of the state attack\nwhat is most venerated by the people--their religious faith and the\nnational spirit which fortunately still exists in those places that are\nnot yet contaminated by the desolating pestilence. When it is attempted\nto take away the soul of a people to give it a different one; when it is\nsought to denationalize a people, so to say, perverting its sentiments,\nits customs, its ideas--it is natural that this people should defend\nitself, like the man who is attacked by highwaymen on a solitary road.\nLet the spirit and the pure and salutiferous substance of my work on the\n\u2018Genealogies\u2019--excuse the apparent vanity--once reach the sphere of the\nGovernment and there will no longer be wars.\n\n\u201cTo-day we have had here a very disagreeable question. The clergy, my\nfriend, have refused to allow Rey to be buried in consecrated ground.\nI interfered in the matter, entreating the bishop to remove this heavy\nanathema, but without success. Finally, we buried the body of the young\nman in a grave made in the field of Mundo Grande, where my patient\nexplorations have discovered the archaeological treasures of which you\nknow. I spent some very sad hours, and the painful impression which\nI received has not yet altogether passed away. Don Juan Tafetan and\nourselves were the only persons who accompanied the funeral cortege. A\nlittle later, strange to say, the girls whom they call here the Troyas\nwent to the field, and prayed for a long time beside the rustic tomb\nof the mathematician. Although this seemed a ridiculous piece of\nofficiousness it touched me.\n\n\u201cWith respect to the death of Rey, the rumor circulates throughout the\ntown that he was assassinated, but by whom is not known. It is asserted\nthat he declared this to be the case, for he lived for about an hour and\na half. According to what they say, he refused to reveal the name of\nhis murderer. I repeat this version, without either contradicting or\nsupporting it. Perfecta does not wish this matter to be spoken of, and\nshe becomes greatly distressed whenever I allude to it.\n\n\u201cPoor woman! no sooner had one misfortune occurred than she met with\nanother, which has grieved us all deeply. My friend, the fatal malady\nthat has been for so many generations connatural in our family has now\nclaimed another victim. Poor Rosario, who, thanks to our cares, was\nimproving gradually in her health, has entirely lost her reason. Her\nincoherent words, her frenzy, her deadly pallor, bring my mother and my\nsister forcibly to my mind. This is the most serious case that I have\nwitnessed in our family, for the question here is not one of mania but\nof real insanity. It is sad, terribly sad that out of so many I should\nbe the only one to escape, preserving a sound mind with all my faculties\nunimpaired and entirely free from any sign of that fatal malady.\n\n\u201cI have not been able to give your remembrances to Don Inocencio, for\nthe poor man has suddenly fallen ill and refuses to see even his most\nintimate friends. But I am sure that he would return your remembrances,\nand I do not doubt that he could lay his hand instantly on the\ntranslation of the collection of Latin epigrams which you recommend to\nhim. I hear firing again. They say that we shall have a skirmish this\nafternoon. The troops have just been called out.\u201d\n\n\n\n\u201cBARCELONA, June 1.\n\n\u201cI have just arrived here after leaving my niece in San Baudilio de\nLlobregat. The director of the establishment has assured me that the\ncase is incurable. She will, however, have the greatest care in that\ncheerful and magnificent sanitarium. My dear friend, if I also should\never succumb, let me be taken to San Baudilio. I hope to find the proofs\nof my \u2018Genealogies\u2019 awaiting me on my return. I intend to add six pages\nmore, for it would be a great mistake not to publish my reasons for\nmaintaining that Mateo Diez Coronel, author of the \u2018Metrico Encomio,\u2019\nis descended, on the mother\u2019s side, from the Guevaras, and not from the\nBurguillos, as the author of the \u2018Floresta Amena\u2019 erroneously maintains.\n\n\u201cI write this letter principally for the purpose of giving you a\ncaution. I have heard several persons here speaking of Pepe Rey\u2019s death,\nand they describe it exactly as it occurred. The secret of the manner of\nhis death, which I learned some time after the event, I revealed to you\nin confidence when we met in Madrid. It has appeared strange to me that\nhaving told it to no one but yourself, it should be known here in all\nits details--how he entered the garden; how he fired on Caballuco when\nthe latter attacked him with his dagger; how Ramos then fired on him\nwith so sure an aim that he fell to the ground mortally wounded. In\nshort, my dear friend, in case you should have inadvertently spoken of\nthis to any one, I will remind you that it is a family secret, and that\nwill be sufficient for a person as prudent and discreet as yourself.\n\n\u201cJoy! joy! I have just read in one of the papers here that Caballuco had\ndefeated Brigadier Batalla.\u201d\n\n\n\n\u201cORBAJOSA, December 12.\n\n\u201cI have a sad piece of news to give you. The Penitentiary has ceased to\nexist for us; not precisely because he has passed to a better life, but\nbecause the poor man has been, ever since last April, so grief-stricken,\nso melancholy, so taciturn that you would not know him. There is no\nlonger in him even a trace of that Attic humor, that decorous and\nclassic joviality which made him so pleasing. He shuns every body; he\nshuts himself up in his house and receives no one; he hardly eats any\nthing, and he has broken off all intercourse with the world. If you were\nto see him now you would not recognize him, for he is reduced to skin\nand bone. The strangest part of the matter is that he has quarreled with\nhis niece and lives alone, entirely alone, in a miserable cottage in the\nsuburb of Baidejos. They say now that he will resign his chair in the\nchoir of the cathedral and go to Rome. Ah! Orbajosa will lose much in\nlosing her great Latinist. I imagine that many a year will pass before\nwe shall see such another. Our glorious Spain is falling into decay,\ndeclining, dying.\u201d\n\n\n\n\u201cORBAJOSA, December 23.\n\n\u201cThe young man who will present to you a letter of introduction from\nme is the nephew of our dear Penitentiary, a lawyer with some literary\nability. Carefully educated by his uncle, he has very sensible ideas.\nHow regrettable it would be if he should become corrupted in that sink\nof philosophy and incredulity! He is upright, industrious, and a good\nCatholic, for which reasons I believe that in an office like yours he\nwill rise to distinction in his profession. Perhaps his ambition may\nlead him (for he has ambition, too) into the political arena, and\nI think he would not be a bad acquisition to the cause of order and\ntradition, now that the majority of our young men have become perverted\nand have joined the ranks of the turbulent and the vicious. He is\naccompanied by his mother, a commonplace woman without any social\npolish, but who has an excellent heart, and who is truly pious.\nMaternal affection takes in her the somewhat extravagant form of worldly\nambition, and she declares that her son will one day be Minister. It is\nquite possible that he may.\n\n\u201cPerfecta desires to be remembered to you. I don\u2019t know precisely what\nis the matter with her; but the fact is, she gives us great uneasiness.\nShe has lost her appetite to an alarming degree, and, unless I am\ngreatly mistaken in my opinion of her case, she shows the first symptoms\nof jaundice. The house is very sad without Rosarito, who brightened it\nwith her smiles and her angelic goodness. A black cloud seems to rest\nnow over us all. Poor Perfecta speaks frequently of this cloud, which\nis growing blacker and blacker, while she becomes every day more yellow.\nThe poor mother finds consolation for her grief in religion and in\ndevotional exercises, which each day she practises with a more exemplary\nand edifying piety. She passes almost the whole of the day in church,\nand she spends her large income in novenas and in splendid religious\nceremonies. Thanks to her, religious worship has recovered in Orbajosa\nits former splendor. This is some consolation in the midst of the decay\nand dissolution of our nationality.\n\n\u201cTo-morrow I will send the proofs. I will add a few pages more, for I\nhave discovered another illustrious Orbajosan--Bernardo Amador de Sota,\nwho was footman to the Duke of Osuna, whom he served during the period\nof the vice-royalty of Naples; and there is even good reason to believe\nthat he had no complicity whatever in the conspiracy against Venice.\u201d\n\n\n\nOur story is ended. This is all we have to say for the present\nconcerning persons who seem, but are not good.","title":"Do\u00f1a Perfecta","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":74831}