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The Fourth Estate.
vol. 2.
by Armando Palacio Valdes.
CHAPTER XVII
PABLITO DISPORTS HIMSELF
"It would be as well to put a light curb on her."
"Oh! a bit," returned Piscis gravely.
Both were silent for some minutes, then Pablito exclaimed:
"Confounded mare! I never in my life saw such a sensitive mouth."
"Like silk," returned his friend in a tone of profound conviction.
Another pause.
"Think we ought to give her more of the spur?"
"The spur is never amiss with any animal," growled Piscis in the same decided tone.
"We must train her in trotting."
"It would be just as well."
During these remarks the two inseparable equestrians walked right across the town from the other end, where they had been in conclave in Don Rosendo's stables. It was ten o'clock at night; the air soft and springlike. The few people about were hastening homeward, and the only shops now open were those of popular resort, such as Graell's, Marano's, and the like. In the Cabin there was a great deal of light and excitement. Pablito, who shared his father's resentment in the matter, said to his friend, as they pa.s.sed the abhorred club:
"Piscis, throw a stone at the door and break the gla.s.s."
Thereupon Piscis, always aggressive, took up a flint from the road, waited for his friend to get round the corner, and then, zas! he flung it at the Cabin and s.h.i.+vered the windows to atoms. Then he took to his legs, and for fear of being recognized by those who came out in search of him, he ran away on all fours with wondrous agility.
There were also some people in the Cafe de la Marina. They entered the place and quaffed in silence several gla.s.ses of chartreuse without its interfering with the active working of their brains.
On rising Pablito said:
"The best thing will be to put her in harness with Romeo."
"That is just what I was thinking," returned Piscis eagerly.
After leaving the cafe Pablito was asked, not in words, but with a horrible face, whither they were going.
"There."
"Good; then as I pa.s.s by my home I will make myself look a bit shabbier."
They left the princ.i.p.al streets, not without Piscis stopping a minute at his abode to alter his attire, and then they proceeded to the other end of the town, where the working cla.s.ses mostly lived. They stopped in a certain street, as dull as it was dirty, in front of a poor-looking house with a rough stone balcony. Pablito looked carefully all round, and then gave a long, low whistle with the skill which distinguished him in this acquirement. Then casting an anxious look at the oil-lamp burning fifty steps off, he said:
"If we could but put out this light."
The terrible Piscis was again to the fore. He stepped to the corner of the wall, and there extinguished the light with his stick, of course breaking the gla.s.s at the same time.
A woman's form then appeared upon the balcony. Pablito jumped up to the iron grating of the window, and thence climbed noiselessly on to the balcony. Piscis meanwhile kept guard at the corner, armed with his formidable stick. Who was the woman who happened just then to be the object of the attentions of the Sultan of Sarrio? "The fair Nieves,"
those will reply who have followed the course of this story. Well, although we do not wish to run counter to the perspicacity of our readers, truth obliges us to declare that the young woman was not the fair Nieves, but the fair Valentina.
What! that prim needlewoman so averse to young gentlemen, and who, moreover, was betrothed to a young man named Cosme?
The same in body and soul, with her golden curls upon her forehead, her piquant frown, and her nose a little turned up. Pablito was the man to cause this sort of upset. While he was courting, or pretending to court Nieves, he was trying the ground with Valentina. But she was more obdurate than the other. The first kiss that he gave her upon the neck was when she was drinking some water in the kitchen. The angry embroideress called it disgraceful; she turned as red as a cherry, her expressive eyes shone with rage, and she cried:
"Take care, for I won't stand such ways! Get along, and try them on with those that like them."
By this she doubtless meant Nieves. Pablito proceeded more cautiously henceforth, but not with less audacity. He did not seem to object to her brusk manners; he joked with her, and he patiently bore with her spitfire ways, for Valentina was a type of the artisan in Sarrio whose want of culture seemed merely an additional charm. The trousseau of Ventura being finished, there were no more opportunities of meeting, so Pablito made use of the public b.a.l.l.s to lay siege to her.
Not that he had abandoned Nieves. The gay young fellow guessed that the self-love excited by rivalry would do more in his favor than even the personal charms with which he was endowed. This perspicacity was innate in him, and had been clearly shown from the first time he paid attention to any of the fair s.e.x, which is an additional argument for those who believe in the preexistence of the human being; because it could only be by having laid siege to several seamstresses in a previous state of existence that our young friend could have such clear ideas as to the course of action that would prove successful.
At last the conquest was made.
She began by giving up her young man, and she ended by making evening appointments like the present one with the gallant Pablito.
"Is your father asleep?" was the first question that he asked when he appeared on the balcony.
"What is that to you?" returned the severe seamstress.
"Well, if he is not asleep, you see, by jingo! the thing is serious."
"Hold your tongue, coward, or I will make it hot for you; I will make a disturbance for the pleasure of seeing you run."
Here Pablito caught her in his arms and kissed her effusively. The young girl smiled with delight, but she soon frowned, and her whole physiognomy expressed great displeasure.
"Go away, go away!" she said, pus.h.i.+ng him off. "I have something to ask you. Where were you this morning?"
"This morning? In several places--at home, at the Club, in the stables, at the end of the landing-stage."
"Were you not in the Calle de San Florencio?"
"Yes, I pa.s.sed by there two or three times."
"And whom did you meet there?"
"How should I know. Several people."
"Didn't you meet Nieves?" asked the pretty seamstress with suppressed rage.
"Why, yes, I did meet her," he returned in a careless tone.