Caesar or Nothing Part 51

"And what have you been doing all day? Tell me."

"I think, my dear Alzugaray," said Caesar, "that I can say, like my namesake Julius: 'Veni, vidi, vice.'"

"The devil! The first day?"

"Yes."

"Show me. What happened?"

"I left the house and entered the cafe downstairs. There was no one there but a small boy, from whom I ordered a bottle of beer and asked if there was a newspaper published here. He told me yes, the _Castro Mail_, an independent weekly. I bade him fetch me a copy, even an old one, and he brought me these two. I gave them a glance, and then, as if it didn't interest me much, I questioned the lad about Don Calixto.

"The first impression I obtained was that Don Calixto is the most influential person in the town; the second, that besides him, either with him or against him, there is a Senor Don Platon Peribanez, almost as influential as Don Calixto. Afterwards I read the two numbers of the Castro periodical attentively, and from this reading I gathered that there is a somewhat hazy question here about an Asylum, where it seems some irregularities have been committed. There is a Republican book-dealer, who is a member of the Council, and on whom the Workmen's Club depends, and he has asked for information as to the facts from the Munic.i.p.ality, and the followers of Don Calixto and of Don Platon oppose this suggestion as an attack on the good-birth, the honour, and the reputation of such respectable personages.

"Having verified these pieces of news, which are of interest for me, I packed off to church and heard the whole eleven o'clock ma.s.s."

"Mighty good! You are quite a man."

"Ma.s.s ended, I went over to the Baptistery arch and stood there examining it, as if I felt the most terrible symptoms of enthusiasm for carved stone. Afterwards I went into the big chapel, which serves also as a pantheon for the Dukes of Castro Duro, whose tombs you find in the side niches of the presbytery. These niches are decorated with an efflorescence of Gothic, which is most gay and pretty, and among all this stone filigree you see the rec.u.mbent statues of a number of knights and one bishop, who to judge by his sword must have been a warrior too.

"n.o.body remained in the church; the priest, a nice old man, fixed his eyes on me and asked me what I thought of the arch. And having prepared my lesson, I talked about the Romanesque of the XII and XIII Centuries like a professor, and then he took me into the sacristy and showed me two paintings on wood which I told him were XV Century.

"'So they say,' the priest agreed. 'Do you think they are Italian or German?'

"'Italian certainly, North Italian.' I might as well have said South German, but I had to decide for something.

"'And they must be worth...? he then asked me with eagerness.

"'My dear man; according,' I told him. 'A dealer would offer you a hundred or two hundred pesetas apiece. In London or New York, well placed, they might be worth twenty or thirty thousand francs.'

"The 'pater' shot fire out of his eyes.

"'And what would one have to do about it?' he asked me.

"'My dear man, I think one would have to take some good photographs and send them to various trades-people and to the museums in the United States.'

"'Would it be necessary to write in English?'

"'Yes, it would be the most practical thing.' "'I don't think there is anybody here that knows how....'

"'I would do it, with great pleasure.'

"'But are you going to be here for some time?'

"'Yes, it is probable.'

"He asked me what I came to Castro Duro for, and I told him that I had no other object than to visit Don Calixto Garcia Guerrero.

"Astonishment on the priest's face.

"'You know him?'

"'Yes, I met him in Rome.'

"'Do you know where he lives?'

"'No.'

"'Then I will take you.'

"The priest and I went out into the street. He wanted to give me the sidewalk, and I opposed that as if it were a crime. He told me he was more accustomed than I to walking on the cobble-stones; and finally, he on the sidewalk and I in the gutter, we arrived at Don Calixto's house."

"Was he at home?" asked Alzugaray.

"Yes," said Caesar. "By the way, on the road there we bowed to the present Deputy to the Cortes, he who will be my opponent in the approaching election, Senor Garcia Padilla."

"Dear man! What a coincidence! What sort is he?"

"He is tall, with a reddish aquiline nose, a greyish moustache, full of cosmetic, a poor type."

"He is a Liberal?"

"Yes, he is a Liberal, because Don Calixto is a Conservative. In his heart, nothing."

"Good. Go on."

_DON CALIXTO AT HOME_

"As I was saying, Don Calixto was at home, in a large room on the ground floor, which serves as his office. Don Calixto is a tall, supple man, with the blackest of hair which is beginning to turn white on the temples, and a white moustache. He is at the romantic age of illusions, of hopes...." "How old is he?" asked Alzugaray.

"He isn't more than fifty-four," Caesar replied, sarcastically. "Don Calixto dresses in black, very fastidiously, and the effect is smart, but smacks of the notary. No matter what pains he takes to appear graceful and easy in manner, he doesn't achieve the result; he has the inbred humility of one who has taken orders in a shop, either as a lad or as a man.

"Don Calixto received me with great amiability, but with a certain air of reserve, as if to say: 'In Rome I was a merry comrade to you, here I am a personage.' We chatted about a lot of things, and before he could ask me what I wanted, I pulled out the letter and handed it to him. The old man put on his gla.s.ses, read attentively, and said:

"'Very good, very good; we will discuss it later.'

"The priest of course thought that he was in the way, and he left.

"When we were alone, Don Calixto said:

"'All right, Caesar, I am happy to see you. I see that you remember our conversation in Rome. You must have lunch with me and my family.'

"'With great pleasure.'

"'I'll go and tell them to put on another place.'

"Don Calixto went out and left me alone. For a while I studied the boss's office. On the wall, diplomas, appointments, in looking-gla.s.s frames; a genealogical tree, probably drawn day before yesterday; in a book-case, legal books...