The Catholic World Volume Iii Part 117

One of those present took the speaker by the arm, and said to him, as he drew him aside.

"Hush, man! don't you see that he is drunk? Who gave you a candle for this funeral? What is it to you if Perico, who is the one interested, consents?"

"Who dares to say that Perico Alvareda consents to an indignity?" said the latter presenting himself in the middle of the room, as pale as if risen from a bier.

At the sound of her husband's voice, Rita slid like a serpent among the bystanders and disappeared.

"He comes in good time to look after his wife," said some hair-brained youths, who formed a sort of retinue to the brilliant dancer and valiant young soldier, bursting into a laugh.

"Sirs," said Perico, crossing his arms upon his breast with a look of suppressed rage, "have I a monkey show in my face?"

"That or something else which provokes laughter," answered Ventura, at which all laughed.

"It is lucky for you," retorted Perico, in a choked voice, "that I am not armed."

"Shut your mouth!" exclaimed Ventura, with a rude laugh. "How bold the _pet lamb_ is getting! Leave off bravado, pious youth; don't be picking quarrels, but go home and wipe your children's noses."

At these words Perico precipitated himself upon Ventura. The latter recoiled before the sudden shock, but immediately recovered himself, and with the strength and agility which were natural to him, seized Perico by the middle, threw him to the ground, and put his knee upon his breast.

Fortunately Perico did not carry a knife, and Ventura did not draw his; but instead the latter clenched both hands upon Perico's throat, repeating furiously:

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"You! You! that I can tear to pieces with three fingers; do you lay your hands upon me? You! a killer of locusts, a coward, a chicken, brought up under your mother's wing. You to me! to me!"

At this instant Pedro entered.

"Ventura!" he shouted, "Ventura! What are you doing? what are you doing, madman?"

At the sight of his father, Ventura loosed his grasp upon Perico and stood up.

"You are drunk," continued Pedro, beside himself with indignation and grief. "You are drunk, and with evil wine. [Footnote 172] Go home,"

he added pushing Ventura by the shoulder, "go home, and go on before me."

[Footnote 172: "Drunk with evil wine," said when the drunken person is ill-tempered.]

Ventura obeyed without answering, for with Pedro's words, it was not alone the voice of his father that reached his ears, it was the voice of reason, of conscience, of his own heart. His n.o.ble instincts were awakened, and he blushed for the affair which had just taken place, and for the cause which had occasioned it. Therefore he lowered his head as in the presence of all he respected, and went out, followed by his father.

In the mean while they had raised Perico, who was gradually recovering from the vertigo caused by the pressure of Ventura's fingers.

He pa.s.sed his hand across his forehead, cast upon those who surrounded him the glance of a wounded and manacled lion, and left the room, saying in a hollow voice,

"He has destroyed us both."

As Ventura had gone, accompanied by his father, those present allowed Perico to leave without opposition.

"This is not the end," said one, shaking his head.

"That is clear," said another. "First deceived, and afterward beaten; who is the saint that could bear it?"

Perico went home muttering in disjointed and broken sentences--"Chicken!" "Coward!" "Something in my face which provokes laughter!" "And he tells me so, he!" "Pet lamb!" "No one cast a doubt upon my honor until you spat upon it and trampled it under your feet!

Oh! we shall see!" He entered his room and seized his gun.

"Father!" called the little voice of Angela from the next apartment, "father, we are alone."

"You will be yet more alone," murmured Perico, without answering her.

The children's voices kept on calling "Father, father!"

"You have no father!" shouted Perico, and went out into the court. He placed his gun against the trunk of the orange-tree, in order to take out ammunition to load it, but, as if the ancient protector of the family repulsed the weapon, it slid and fell to the ground. The leaves of the tree murmured mournfully. Were they moved by some dismal presentiment?

Perico was leaving the court when he found himself face to face with his mother, who, made watchful by her inquietude, had heard her son enter.

"Where are you going, Perico?" she asked.

"To the field. I have told you already that there were goats around."

"Did you go to the feast?"

"Yes."

"And Rita?"

"Was not there. Mamma Maria dotes."

Anna breathed more freely; still, the unusual roughness of her son's tone and the asperity of his replies surprised the already alarmed mother.

"Don't go now to the field, my child," she said in a supplicating voice.

"Not go to the field, and why?"

"Because I feel in my heart that you ought not, and you know that my heart is true."

"_Yes, I know it_!" he answered, with such acerbity and bitterness that Anna began to fear that although he might not have found Rita at the feast, he had, nevertheless, his suspicions.

"Well, then, since you know it, do not go," she said.

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"Madam," answered Perico, "women sometimes exasperate men by trying to govern them. They say that I have been brought up _under your wing_. I intend now to fly alone," and he went toward the gate.

"Is this my son?" cried the poor mother. "Something is the matter with him! Something is wrong!"

As Perico opened the gate, his faithful companion, the good Melampo, came to his side.

"Go back!" said Perico, giving him a kick.

The poor animal, little used to ill treatment, fell back astonished, but immediately, and with that absence of resentment which makes the dog a model of abnegation in his affection, as well as of fidelity, darted to the gate in order to follow his master. It was already shut.

Then he began to howl mournfully, as if to prove the truth of the instinct of these animals when they announce a catastrophe by their lamentations.