The Joy of Captain Ribot Part 4

"Tripe!" I exclaimed.

"Stewed by Senora Ramona," proclaimed Dona Cristina, gravely.

The joke put me in better humor yet. But how short was the duration of that intoxicating delight! When we reached the dessert she informed me, perfectly naturally:

"I have news for you. We are not going to-morrow. My husband is coming for us the day after."

"Yes?" I exclaimed, with the expression of a man who is forced to talk under a shower bath.

"Although the journey is a bit uncomfortable, coming and going again at once, he says that as mamma has probably not yet completely recovered from her shock he does not like to have us travel alone."

Saying this, she took the letter from her pocket and proceeded to look it over. "He also tells me to give you a million thanks and is glad that he is to have a chance to give them to you in person."

I was looking at the back of the letter, but I caught the words of the ending: "Adios, life of my soul," and it augmented the sadness of my mood. However, I expressed my satisfaction at the prospect of knowing Senor Marti so soon, but it required some effort to say so. As melancholy began to take possession of me, and as Dona Cristina was not slow in perceiving the fact, I found no better means of combating it than to take more cognac after my coffee than was prudent. This produced an exaltation that resembled, without being, joyousness. I chattered away, and must have uttered many ridiculous things and some of them wide of the mark, although I cannot remember. Dona Cristina smiled benevolently. But when, for the fifth or sixth time, I took the decanter to pour out another thimbleful, she touched my arm, saying:

"You are already exceedingly frank, Captain. I will free you from your word."

"I am its slave, senora, at the cost of my life," I replied, laughingly.

"But I will drink no more. I am resolved to obey you in this, as in everything you may command. But nevertheless," I continued, looking boldly into her eyes, "there are things that intoxicate more than cognac and all spirituous beverages."

Dona Cristina's eyes fell and her fair face frowned. But instantly smiling, she said vivaciously:

"But you must not intoxicate yourself in any fas.h.i.+on. I abhor drunkards."

I did not wish to follow this advice; and though it is true I drank little more, I insisted upon gazing at the fascinating lady. I continued chatting like a dentist, and in the midst of my prattle I came near giving utterance to more than one endearing phrase; but Dona Cristina, ingeniously and prudently, cut these off before I had a chance to say them.

We both rose from our seats. We went to the balcony to look at the traffic and movement on the wharf. With her permission, I was smoking a Havana cigar. As her beautiful head occupied my thoughts more than the traffic on the wharf, I noted that a little sh.e.l.l comb was falling out of her hair.

"If I were this little comb I should be very content with my place. I would make no effort to escape."

And boldly, with no thought of what I did, I raised my hand to her head and put the comb back in place.

She turned as red as a cherry, her eyes fell, and she remained silent for several seconds; at last, looking me in the face with a lofty expression, she said in a changed tone:

"Senor, I do not know what motive induces you to take any liberties with me. The service you have rendered us ent.i.tles you to my grat.i.tude, but not to treat me without respect."

My semi-intoxication was dissipated as by magic. It left me petrified and ashamed as I had never before been in my life and never expect to be again, and I scarcely had power to murmur a few words of excuse. I believe she did not hear them. She turned her back disdainfully and left the room.

In about one moment afterwards there flashed through my mind an idea that did not lack a certain probability, that is to say, that I was superfluous in that place. And without waiting to examine it with sufficient attention in the light of reasonable and serious criticism, I put it immediately in practice, taking my hat and removing myself before any gra.s.s had a chance to grow under my feet.

Though I was on s.h.i.+pboard and in the consignee's office and in other parts of the city, shame did not quit me all day long. It was fastened to my face with a red seal and I was unspeakably mortified. My friends laughed and murmured such words as "Martel tres estrellas," "Jamaica,"

"Anis del Mono," and others which sounded like marks of liquors, but I knew what ailed me, and this increased my woe. On the next day, after was.h.i.+ng and scrubbing myself energetically with soap, it seemed as if there were some bits of that red seal still adhering to my skin.

Of course I did all I could to forget Dona Cristina and her so holy name, and seemed to succeed throughout the day. But at night her image would not leave my couch for a moment; it twitched my feet, it pulled my hair, and later, to make it up to me for these shocking tribulations, it gently inclined itself towards me and lightly touched my cheek with its lips.

On awaking, a luminous idea attacked me. Marti was to arrive that day, and it was my unavoidable duty to go to meet him at the station: first, for courtesy's sake; second, to prevent his asking for me, and thereby causing his wife any agitation; third, because my absence would surprise Dona Amparo; fourth, because it was necessary not to reveal what had occurred; fifth--I do not know what the fifth reason was, but I have an idea that there was a fifth reason and that it had something to do with the mad desire that I felt to see Dona Cristina again.

The mail train arrived in the afternoon. I therefore had sufficient time to think over the bother of such a step and to change my purpose. But after considering it in all its aspects and then considering it again and making infinite efforts for heaven to touch my heart, I still did not repent, and my feet conducted me to the station almost in spite of myself.

On reaching the platform I saw my ladies talking with an employee.

Availing myself of the prodigious diplomatic apt.i.tude with which heaven had been so good as to favor me, I pa.s.sed along behind them at a slow pace and profoundly absorbed in the contemplation of a pile of beets.

"Ribot! Ribot!"

I stopped, filled with astonishment. I turned my head to the southeast, then to the north, next to the northeast, and so on successively towards all the points of the compa.s.s until, after many unfruitful efforts, I succeeded in locating the direction from which the voice proceeded.

"Oh, senoras!"

I approached them, overflowing with astonishment, and seized the hand of Dona Amparo. I started to do likewise with Cristina and--did I not say before that this lady was distinguished by a white skin? The statement must be corrected. At that moment she might have been born in Senegal.

I asked for her health without venturing to extend my hand, and she responded, looking in another direction.

"How is this, Captain Ribot?" asked Dona Amparo. "All day yesterday you did not come, or to-day either."

I excused myself, saying I had been occupied. Dona Amparo would not accept my explanation and talked to me fondly. This lady showed herself constantly more affectionate and amiable towards me. While we were talking, Dona Cristina did not open her lips. I felt hurt and confused.

I did not venture to look her in the face, but observed her from the corner of my eye and noted that her face, instead of recovering its ordinary aspect, became more and more cloudy. Her eyes persisted in gazing in the opposite direction from where I stood.

Dona Amparo, not remarking anything, monopolized the conversation. On my part, I spoke little and incoherently. My having come at all was weighing me down fearfully, and I had an impulse to leave under some pretext, without awaiting the arrival of Marti. But before I could make up my mind the station-guard sounded his trumpet announcing the train.

So it was no longer possible to go without grave discourtesy.

The train came into the station, and among the goodly number of heads that suddenly showed themselves at the car windows the eyes of Dona Cristina discovered that of her husband.

"Emilio!" she cried joyfully.

"Cristina!" he replied in a like tone.

And without waiting for the train to come to a full stop he leaped out and embraced and kissed her effusively. But she, blus.h.i.+ng like a schoolgirl, and at the same time smiling with pleasure, brusquely freed herself from his arms.

"Always the same!" he exclaimed, laughing heartily, as he extended his hand to his mother-in-law.

She, however, was not satisfied with his hand and seized him by the head like a child and kissed him repeatedly, asking with hearty interest about his journey as he inquired about her health.

While they were talking I maintained a respectful distance from the group. And then it was that Dona Cristina turned her eyes towards me with a friendly smile, at the same time beckoning me to approach. That unexpected smile caused me such pleasure and surprise that I could scarcely hide my feelings. I hastened to obey.

"He saved mamma!" she said, with a little emphasis, presenting me to her husband.

He grasped my hands affectionately, expressing boundless thanks. He was a man of twenty-eight or thirty years, tall, slender, pale-faced and black-eyed, his beard also black, silky, and abundant; a Levantine type, like his wife--but delicate and fragile, at least in appearance.

"Thanks to his bravery, we are not mourning a misfortune to-day,"

continued the lady.

"Senora!" I exclaimed, "the action was of no merit whatever. Any pa.s.sing sailor would have done the same."

But she, paying no attention, went on to relate what happened with all details, exaggerating my conduct.

This panegyric from her mouth, after what had happened, caused me more shame than pleasure. I felt the pangs of remorse, and what at first had seemed to me a slight imprudence now appeared a lack of delicacy.

Returning to the town I left them at the hotel door, refusing to stop with them, in spite of Marti's insistence. In these first moments the presence of a stranger might be unwelcome. But I agreed to take coffee with him that evening at the Suizo. I hoped that he might bring his wife, for she enjoyed taking a walk after dinner.