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"Don't you want to drink it indoors, mister[27]?"
"I would not drink it in the house if you should give me five duros!"
"Well, my boy, you can't have it out of doors! Come now, let us pour it back into the jug; only don't get sick and have to be sent to the hospital."
No sooner said than done; she started straight for the jug; but Enrique detained her.
"I did not mean that, my beauty. In the house there might some harm happen to me; but here! here I seem to be in glory merely looking at you!"
"Senorito, you need lime juice and not milk!"
"May be!... How much is this?" he added, after he had drunk up the milk, and looking at Manolita with a smile.
"Not quite an _onza_."[28]
"How much?"
"Half a real."
He took a few coins out of his pocket, and as he put them into the _chula's_ hands, he suddenly felt himself attacked by a philanthropy that mounted toward enthusiasm for her. To manifest this feeling, so appropriate to the essence of human nature and the spirit and doctrine of Christianity which commands us to love our fellow-creatures, our lieutenant had nothing left to do except to give her a fond hug accompanied by a kiss fonder still. But before carrying out such a plausible scheme, he cast a cautious glance all around to a.s.sure himself that no one was coming to disturb this benevolent act, and previously he bristled up his mustaches as all good rat terriers are accustomed to do.
When once he had thus completed his preparations--All ready! Go!
When the _chula_ found herself in the lieutenant's arms, she turned around as quick as a flash, tore herself away, let fly her hand, and _zas_! gave him a tremendous slap right in the nose.
We know that of old Enrique's nose had a curious magnetic influence over blows, and attracted them as metallic needles attract electric sparks.
Let us record this, so that no one may think it remarkable that the buffet struck that delicate organ instead of any other region of his face.
Two jets of blood instantly gushed from his sufficiently capacious nostrils, which was proof positive that Manolita's hands were not made of wax, though they were handsomely shaped. At the sight of blood her courage became even fiercer, like a lioness of the desert, and it was a narrow escape that she did not tear him in pieces with a tin dipper, for she clutched it in her fists, and held it over him a long time.
"Ay, how 'diculous! What has got into me?... What were you thinking about, you lisping idiot?... You made a mistake, senor. I'll smash in your great goat face if you don't get out of here quicker'n a wink!..."
Enrique was wiping his nose with his handkerchief, murmuring:--
"_Diablo! Diablo!_ How you made it bleed!"
"I want to see you pack out of here, you rascal![29] you rrrascal! you rrrrrrrascal!" And each time that she repeated the word, she gave a more vigorous roll to the _r_, as though the preservation of her honor, endangered by the impudent lieutenant, depended on the proper p.r.o.nunciation of this precious palatal.
"But first let me have a little water to wash my face.... I can't go out this way...."
"You'd better have some green lemon juice.... Clear out of here, you indecent wretch!"
The young woman stretched her right arm toward the door with so much dignity that it could not have been improved upon. Enrique, busy in cleaning off the blood and in looking with sorrow on the spots staining his handkerchief, could not appreciate the value of that haughty att.i.tude which was worthy of Juno, Pallas, Cybele, or any other G.o.ddess of antiquity.
The mythological right hand, however, under the influence of compa.s.sion, was gradually beginning to bend, and after a few moments it was the very one that brought from the back room a jug full of water, and set it down on the marble table beside the fatal tumbler of milk which the "rascal" had but just drained.
Still it must not be imagined that this act in the least infringed on the dignity with which the handsome _chula_ had clothed herself: on the contrary, it made it more l.u.s.trous and ill.u.s.trious. And while the lieutenant was washing his nose, carefully snuffling up the water, she, casting glances of Olympic scorn at his occiput and muttering threats, went and sat down once more at the door with her book in her hands.
The hemorrhage having been checked, after drying his face with his handkerchief the lieutenant left the shop; but as he pa.s.sed by Manolita he had the impudence to say:--
"Good by, my beauty; I shall not lay it up against you."
It would be impossible for any one to conceive that Manolita lifted so much as her eyes, much more that she replied to him.
Enrique went to the Imperial with his nose rather red, possibly a little inflamed, but as happy as though nothing of the sort had occurred. The thought of the _chula_ and the buffet that she had given him was driven out of his head by the congratulations of the bull-fighters and a dispute that lasted all the afternoon as to whether it is permissible or not for the _espada_ to have a boy at the entrance to attract the attention of the bull when he charges at close quarters.
On the next day, however, when he left the house after breakfast, he remembered his adventure; instead of going up to town by the Prado, so as to take Prince Street, as his custom was, he entered the Calle del Bano the same as on the day before. He had taken but a step or two before he could discern at a distance Manolita's checked chintz and blue kerchief.
The lieutenant smiled, calling to mind only the pleasant part of yesterday's episode; it was one of his peculiarities to see all the things of this world in the most hopeful aspect.
"Ah, there is my little _chula!_ _caramba!_ if she isn't witty and saucy!"
And with a honied smile on his lips, he walked leisurely to the "dairy,"
puffing out vast volumes of smoke, and carrying himself like a man whose happiness cannot be disturbed by a buffet more or less.
When he came near the young woman, he stopped just as on the day before.
The _chula_ looked up, and scanning him with angry eyes, said:--
"Have you come back for another?"
"If you are anxious to give me one...."
Enrique's dog-like face expressed such pure satisfaction, and had grown so fearfully ugly in expressing it, that the _chula_ could not prevent a smile breaking out on her face.
And bending over, so as not to compromise herself, she said:--
"Come, come, go your way."
"Don't be spiteful to me, Manolita, but forgive me!"
"That's a great note! I am not a priest to grant absolution!"
"But you can impose penance."
"No such thing! If I did, though, it would be with the dipper in such a way that you would not care to show your ugly phiz around here again."
"That could not be! I might lose my nose, but I could not lose my desire to see you; never!"
The _chula_, during this exchange of compliments, was becoming softened.
Enrique, after respectfully asking permission, was allowed to enter the shop, and sit down to drink a tumbler of milk.
And in good fellowship and sociability, the lieutenant began to flirt with her in fine style, and the girl to answer him curtly, though she could not help feeling that it was rather good fun to be courted by a military gentleman.[30]
Enrique made himself liked by his frank and optimistic disposition.
Manolita, finding him just as ugly as before, began to be attracted toward him.
"Why not tell the truth?" she said; "you are homely, but you have a _something_ ... come now!... peculiar."
"Yes, I know that," responded the lieutenant, gravely; "I am homely, but graceful."