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The first person to get the floor was an ancient republican of pale complexion, dull eyes, and a great shock of hair which made him look like the images in our churches. He got up to speak of an insurrection that had been started in Cadiz. The subject was of keen interest, and there was a great curiosity in Congress to hear this gentleman's remarks, as he was supposed to be one of the promoters of the revolution. He began in these words, or to the same effect:--
"In the primitive times of history man wandered naked through the forests, supporting life with the fruit of trees, and the milk and flesh of animals which he hunted. One day he saw an animal like himself pa.s.sing through the woods. He flung his la.s.so and caught it. It proved to be--a woman. Hence the family, _senores diputados_...."
He went on giving a complete though succinct sketch of universal history, and explained to the minutest details the theories of the social contract. He quoted numerous texts from the wise men of ancient and modern times in support of his own theories. Attention was attracted above all by one proposition of bold originality, and as it was received with murmurs by the a.s.sembly, the deputy exclaimed:--
"What! does this surprise you? But it is not I that say it. Brigida says it."
"Who is Brigida?" asked a journalistic tyro.
"His housekeeper," replied another, without looking up.
"Why! what a ridiculous thing to quote his housekeeper here!" exclaimed the first.
The deputies received with renewed murmurs the name of the author of the quotation.
"Brigida says it," cried the orator with all the force of his lungs.
Louder and longer murmurs. When quiet was restored, he said in a grave and solemn tone:--
"Santa Brigida says so!"
"Ahaaaaaa!" replied the a.s.sembly.
The last five minutes were devoted to the events in Cadiz, and that was to say that it was all the fault of the government.
It seems logical to report that the orator was removed from there in a cage and taken to a mad-house. Nothing of the sort happened, however: the minister replied in all formality, and combated his quotations and theories with other quotations and other theories. At that period all addresses began with Adam and no one was surprised at it.
Next, coming to the order of the day, it was the turn of tariff reform, and Mendoza was granted the floor. He, having spread out on his desk his earthquake of notes, coughing three or four times, lifting up his hands an equal number, began his great oration.
His voice was well modulated, clear, and mellow; his tone grave and high-sounding; his gestures n.o.ble and refined. Neither Demosthenes, nor Cicero, nor Mirabeau were blessed with such an effective presence and such an elegant round of att.i.tudes as our friend Brutandor.
But the trouble was that the ideas that proceeded from his mouth did not correspond in the least with such att.i.tudes. That wrathful gesture, that lowering and raising of the voice, and those short but quick steps in front of his desk, were very appropriate to accompany the celebrated "Tell your master that only by the force of bayonets will we be taken from this spot," or the _Quousque tandem Catilina_; but for saying that the annual consumption of cotton in England in 1767 was 4,000,000 pounds, and that in 1867 it was more than 1,400,000,000 pounds; that the number of workmen engaged there in the manufacture of cotton is 500,000, and 4,000,000 the persons whose living depends on this industry; that the value of the paper manufactured in 1835 was 80,000,000 pounds and in 1860 exceeded 223,000,000; that the manufactories of the said product at the present time numbered 394; that in France its production exceeded 25,000,000 kilograms, etc.,--they did not seem so appropriate. His whole discourse was reduced to this: quant.i.ties, dates, facts. The deputies, with more or less dissimulation, began to desert the salon, one after the other.
"This orator is an air-pump," said one reporter. "At this rate there will soon be a perfect vacuum."
The jokes and flings in the press-gallery became general. Miguel, who knew what he had to expect from his friend's genius, listened with disgust to their raillery of him: he was anxious, and somewhat inclined to cut short their jests peremptorily; but, as in that tribunal of Liberty, comment on the speeches was traditional, he did his best to restrain himself. The best thing that occurred to him, in order to avoid being compromised, was to make a hurried visit home and find out how his wife was. When he returned, the orator was still speaking.
"Now, Congress is about to see the most curious thing of all," said the worthy Brutandor.
And, on turning round to gather up from his desk the papers on which it was written, he showed the seat of his trousers! But no one noticed this graceful _quid pro quo_ except Miguel and a shorthand reporter, who could not help laughing.
The joking continued among the reporters; the observations, however, were made more with the purpose of causing a laugh than of hurting the feelings of the orator, whom almost all knew or were intimate with. Only one, the editor of a Carlist daily, from time to time got off serious criticisms in bad taste, as though he had some personal ill-will against Mendoza. Miguel had already looked at this man two or three times in an aggressive manner, without the other taking any notice of it. At last, accosting him, Miguel said:--
"See here, friend; I am not surprised that the numbers of _El Universo_ are so stupid! You evidently take pains to waste all your wit here."
"What you just said to me seems to me an intentional insult, sir!"
"Perhaps."
"You will immediately give me an apology," said the journalist, very much disturbed.
"No; I should much prefer to give you some unpleasantness by and by,"
replied Miguel, with a smile.
Then the editor of _El Universo_ took his hat and went out in great indignation. In a short time, two Catholic, deputies made their appearance in the gallery, asking for Miguel.
"You have come to ask me to make an apology, have you? Then I tell you that I shall not make one. Come to an understanding with these two friends of mine."
And he introduced those whom he had selected. The Catholic editor's seconds had not come so primed for a bellicose decision: after consulting a few moments with Miguel's, they went down to ask further instructions of their princ.i.p.al; then returned in a short time with the calumet of peace in their hands, saying that 'their friend's religious principles did not allow him to settle insults with weapons.'
On hearing this, there was an explosion of laughter in the gallery.
"Then, if his religious principles do not allow him to fight," said Miguel, irritated, "there was no reason for him to choose seconds. But it seems as if this gentleman wished to try his fortune."
At last, Mendoza finished his oration with three deputies in the hall, one of them snoring. This, however, did not prevent the papers on the following day declaring that he was a man "most skilled in financial matters."
When Miguel went to congratulate him, he was sweating copiously but calm and serene as a G.o.d, surrounded by all the members of the committee of Estimates.
They left Congress together, and went for refreshments to the Cafe de la Iberia. After chatting there for some time, Miguel doing most of the talking (for we know of old that Mendoza was not the man to waste his breath foolishly), the latter got up, saying:--
"Well, Miguelito, excuse me if I leave you; I have a few things to attend to."
Rivera's eyes expressed surprise and indignation.
"Your glory has spoiled your memory, Perico. Hadn't we agreed to see the President after the session?"
"That is a fact: I had forgotten," replied Mendoza, without being able to repress a motion of vexation and disgust. "I don't know as this is--it is pretty near dinner time...."
Miguel, who had not failed to notice his gesture, said with characteristic impetuosity:--
"Look here, do you imagine that I lamentably wasted two hours hearing you quote data to be found in any statistical annual merely for the pleasure of doing so?... I never believed that your egotism was carried to such a degree. You see me within a hand's-breadth of ruin, for your sake, only for your sake, and instead of using all your powers to save me, in doing which you would be merely fulfilling your duty, you manifest Olympian indifference; you aren't even willing to put yourself out to go with me from here to the Presidency. That is unworthy, shameful! I have excused many things in my life, Perico; but this goes beyond bounds."
Rivera, in saying these words, trembled with indignation.
"Don't be so explosive man! why, I have not yet refused to go with you to the Presidency, or anywhere else," said Mendoza, laying his hand on his shoulder, while his lips were curved by that humble smile which Miguel compared to that of "a Newfoundland dog." "Come on! let us go this very moment to the Presidency!"
"Come on, then," said Rivera dryly, getting up.
After going a few steps his vexation subsided.
When they reached there, the President had not yet come in. Mendoza, as a deputy, made his way immediately into the office, and there they both waited, taking a comfortable seat on a sofa while the throng of office-hunters were spoiling in the anteroom. It was not long before there was the sound of a carriage under the _porte cochere_: instantly all the bells in the house began to jingle madly.
"Here comes the President," said Mendoza.
Indeed, in a few seconds he came into the office, accompanied by a number of deputies. Seeing Mendoza, he greeted him in the free and easy tone with which he greeted the friends who came every day.
"Well worked up, my dear Mendoza, well worked up. It has produced a very good effect."
He alluded to the speech.