The Joy of Captain Ribot Part 17

"In this case, I have, after all, taken certain steps towards winning her good will, and before going farther I wish to obtain your approval."

"My approval!" she exclaimed, agitated, and with a choking voice. "But what need have you of my approval? I have no part in the matter. Beg it of her parents."

"Before begging it of her parents I desire it from you. I know that you have no direct interest in the matter, but it has to do with your cousin, of whom you appear to think a good deal, who has distinguished me with her esteem, however little merited. n.o.body can give me true counsel in this case better than you; so I beg it of you, in the name of our good friends.h.i.+p, as a favor which I shall appreciate all the days of my life."

She remained silent for some time.

We walked on together through the high-growing corn which made even dimmer the fading twilight.

I watched her out of the corner of my eye, and it seemed to me that I could detect slight, almost imperceptible, changes sweep over her face.

Soon her brow contracted and her lips moved several times before a sound escaped them. At last she said in a trembling voice:

"It makes me very happy that you have made your choice at last. Men ought not to live alone, and especially those who, like you, have an affectionate, indulgent temperament, and know how to appreciate the delicate heart of a woman. Isabelita is almost a child; I can tell you little about her character. You will take it upon yourself to form her.

But I can a.s.sure you that she knows how to fulfil the duties of a housewife. She is industrious, careful, economical; and under these qualities are hid others that will show themselves. She is very pretty, too."

"You have forgotten the one which makes her dearest and most attractive to me."

"What?"

"That of being your cousin."

Her beautiful face darkened; she frowned and replied in a sharp tone:

"If you do not care for my cousin for herself, if you would take her as a toy to distract you from other illusions, or, which would be worse, to follow and nourish them in secret, you would commit a great sin; and I should in such case advise you not to think of her, but to leave her in peace."

Uttering these words, she hastened on and joined the others, leaving me alone.

When we got into the carriages to return to the city, I was melancholy, too wrapped up in serious meditations to go on playing the boy with Isabelita. Under pretext of a headache I found a place alone at the back, and to support my pretext I did not go up to Marti's house, but retired to my hotel.

At eight o'clock in the morning I heard the cheerful voice of Emilio, who came into my quarters like a hurricane, threw open the windows, and sat down on my bed.

"You can't go to-morrow, Captain!" he cried, laughing, and pulling my beard to finish waking me.

"Why?" I asked sleepily.

"Because to-morrow you are going to be G.o.d-father to a little girl more beautiful than the morning star."

"What! Cristina----?"

"Yes; Cristina was taken ill after you left us. We thought that it was to be like her afternoon indisposition; but she, who ought to know, begged us to send for the woman she had engaged for the case. I was afraid she might not succeed, and sent for the doctor; but Cristina would not consent that he should come into her room. When the woman took charge of her, the poor--Oh, what courage, what suffering, Captain! Not a groan, not a moan. I walked about dead, torn to pieces, praying G.o.d that she would scream. I don't understand suffering without a sound. I am appalled by temperaments like Cristina's, that not one complaint escapes in the worst of pains. At two o'clock in the morning my brave little woman came through her trouble, making me father of the prettiest, healthiest, cleverest little one the sun of Valencia ever shone on. I'm sure of it, although I have not yet seen it."

He got up from the bed, took several turns in the room, came back and sat down, got up again, and went through a series of evolutions that showed the delightful agitation of his spirit. I felt deeply moved too, and congratulated him with hearty words. When he stopped at last, I asked him:

"So you do me the honor of being G.o.d-father?"

"It will give me great pleasure if you will accept. To tell the truth, I thought first of Castell. You don't mind, do you? Enrique is more than a friend and brother to me. It would be the natural thing. But I will tell you privately, Cristina opposed it. Religious scruples, do you see?

Enrique professes such upsetting ideas and declares them with such excessive frankness, the ladies cannot forgive him. It is all because he is not a practical man. He might hold all the notions he liked if he would keep them a little more to himself when he is among women. As for me, I laugh at his materialistic ideas. Enrique a materialist, when there is not a more generous man in the world! Because, in spite of his great talents and his wonderful powers of ill.u.s.tration, do you know, Enrique is a child, a heart of gold!"

As he uttered these words with an accent of conviction, he shook his black, curly head in a way that made me want to laugh and to weep at the same time.

"And what does Cristina say to the subst.i.tute?"

"When I proposed your name, she was delighted."

I was delighted too, hearing this. I dressed hastily and marched off to make the acquaintance of the new star. The next day we went to church, and I performed my duty with emotion, yes, bursting with pride. Later I took the train for Barcelona, promising my friends to return soon to visit them, and to make the visit permanent by settling my camp in Valencia.

CHAPTER XI.

I thought this matter over, and my purpose became fixed during my voyage. I found that, although not rich, I had enough to live comfortably on; and when I returned to Barcelona I offered my resignation to the s.h.i.+pping house.

I cannot clearly explain the sentiments whose tumult at that time filled my soul. Confusion reigned therein. Intense love for Cristina, the angelic beauty and innocence of Retamoso's girl, the desire for repose and for a comfortable and tranquil life that all men feel on arriving at a certain state, and the sharp p.r.i.c.kings of conscience that questioned my right to obtain it under such conditions, struggled together within me. But there was one sentiment which, however silenced, was stronger than the others--the ardent desire to be near Cristina, to live in her intimate circle, and never to lose sight of her charming face. I held no thoughts against the peace of her heart or the honor of her husband, but only to be happy enjoying her presence all of my life.

In this mind, neither saint-like nor criminal, I took the train for Valencia two months after I had left it. In a train that pa.s.sed mine in a station on the way, I caught a glimpse, through a window, of the silhouette of Sabas, and near it the red head of a woman who was not Matilde.

"Sabas, Sabas!" I called.

When he saw me, he saluted me affectionately with his hand. The lady who was beside him also smiled cordially; I did not see why, for I did not know her. I remained puzzled. I was doubtful if I had not been mistaken.

Was it really Matilde? I was not long in finding out.

I reached Valencia before dark. After leaving my things at the inn, I hired a conveyance to take me out to Caba.n.a.l, where I knew that Marti was now installed. I was anxious to consult with him about my plans. As I drew near the country house I felt my heart beating violently. This roused anew my sentiment of honor. "Are we like this?" I said to myself scornfully. "While thinking of binding yourself by a sacred fetter, of offering yourself to an innocent young girl, you cannot control your impulses! You are going to press the hand of a friend, to make him your confidant, your kinsman, while still your spirit is not cleansed of traitorous thoughts!"

The family was a.s.sembled in the dining-room. I observed at once a certain sadness and unusual gravity on their faces. They all wore long faces, filled with a consternation that alarmed me excessively. Marti embraced me, however, with his accustomed cordiality, showing sincere delight at my arrival. I gave my hand to the others and, coming to Matilde, I said to her, without stopping to think:

"So you are a widow? I saw your husband in a station. We had no chance to speak, but we greeted each other."

I had not finished uttering these words before I was stupefied by her beginning to weep bitterly. She pressed my hand convulsively and, between the sobs that rent her breast, said:

"Thanks, Ribot! Many thanks! My husband was running away with the young lady."

"I saw a red-headed lady beside him, but I did not think--" I stammered, abashed.

"Yes, yes, the young lady," she sobbed.

"Forgive me, but what has been said can't be unsaid; but, yes, she seemed young to me."

"She would like to seem young! She is more than thirty years old!" she cried angrily; "more painted and bedizzened than a doll in a bazaar. You should see her mornings on her balcony!"

Marti came to my aid, saying in low tones:

"She was the young lady in the company acting at the theatre."

"Ah!"

Everybody kept still and looked at the floor as one does when paying a visit of condolence. Nothing could be heard in the room but the increasingly poignant sobs of the outraged wife. The situation was trying, agonizing in the highest degree. Fortunately Dona Amparo had the happy inspiration to faint away, and this accident introduced an element of variety into the scene which we immediately improved. We ran to her aid. We opened flasks with s.h.i.+ning stoppers. The dining-room was filled with the penetrating fragrances of the apothecary's shop. Tears, embraces, sighs, kisses. At last her equilibrium was restored, and she came to herself.