The Joy of Captain Ribot Part 3

"Are they more beautiful than yours?" I asked presumptuously.

"Oh, mine are of no account," she answered with a blush.

"Of no account?" I questioned with astonishment. "Indeed, there are no others so bewitching on all this eastern coast, among all the beautiful ones that there abound. They are two stars of heaven! They are a happy dream from which one would never wish to awake!"

She instantly became serious. She kept silence for a while, without raising her eyes from the tablecloth. Then she said with an affected indifference, not free from severity:

"You have breakfasted fairly well, have you not? But on board the food is better than at hotels."

I kept silent for a while, in turn. Without responding to her question, after a moment I said:

"Pardon me. We sailors express ourselves too frankly. We are not versed in etiquette, but our intentions must excuse us. Mine were not to say anything impertinent."

She was immediately mollified, and we continued our chat with the same cordiality until the end of the breakfast.

CHAPTER III.

I went back to the ship in a worse state than that of the day before.

The lady occupied my thoughts more than was desirable for content or peace of mind. I went back again that afternoon and again the next day.

Her interesting figure, her eyes--so black, so innocent, and so piquant at the same time, were rapidly penetrating my soul. And as always happens in such cases, her eyes first began to please me and then her voice began to enchant me; soon it was her fine hands, like alabaster; a little after that the soft veil of hair that adorned her temples; immediately thereupon, three little dimples in her right cheek. At last I found happiness in a certain defective way she had of p.r.o.nouncing the letter R.

These and other discoveries of like importance could not be made, it is evident, without due attention, all of which, instead of pleasing the lady, annoyed her visibly. She always received me cordially, but not with her former frankness of manner. I observed, not without pain, that in spite of the gayety and animation of her conversation she revealed a bit of disquiet in the depths, as if fearing that I might again say something unwelcome. While comprehending this, nevertheless I had not the force of will to stop gazing at her more than I should.

At last the wig was brought in secret to the hotel. Dona Amparo tried it on in the most absolute privacy; she found it imperfect. It was returned to the hands of its maker; various changes were effected in it without either the public or the authorities becoming aware of the fact, and after various trials equally secret the good lady emerged as fresh and juvenile as if my sinful hands had never attacked her charms. For in spite of all--that is, in spite of the wig, of years, and of obesity--Dona Amparo had not completely lost her charms.

They invited me to take a drive with them through the environs of the city. The pleasure with which I accepted may be imagined. On reaching the country we alighted, and for an hour we feasted our eyes upon that smiling and splendid landscape. I found myself happy, and this happiness incited me to show towards Dona Cristina great deference and gentleness of speech. I felt impelled to say to her everything beautiful and interesting that occurred to me. But she, as if divining these perverse tendencies of my tongue, curbed it with tact and firmness, asking me some indifferent question whenever there seemed to be any danger of my uttering something indiscreet, leaving me with her mamma while she went on ahead, or taking pains to make her mother talk. This did not dishearten me. I was so stupid, or so indiscreet, that in spite of these clear signals I still persisted in seeking pretexts for directing various whiffs of incense towards her. I declare, however, that I did not think I was acting the gallant. I believed in good faith that such obsequiousness and such flatteries were legitimate; for we Spaniards from remote antiquity have arrogated to ourselves the right of telling all pretty women that they are pretty, without other consequences. But she cast doubts upon the correctness of such a proceeding. That these doubts were not ill-founded I see clearly enough, now that the mist of my sentiments has been completely dissipated and I read my soul as in an open book.

It chanced that that same afternoon, on our way back to the city, seeing the numerous and handsome country houses that we pa.s.sed, Dona Cristina remarked:

"Our place at Caba.n.a.l is very charming, but not sumptuous. My husband is not satisfied with it; he wants something better."

"He wants something better?" I cried without stopping to think. "But if I were your husband, I could desire nothing!"

The lady kept silence for a moment, turned her face towards the window to look at the road, and murmured ironically,--

"Well, sir; let us have patience."

I believe that not only my cheeks, my forehead, and my ears turned scarlet, but even the whites of my eyes. For several minutes I felt on my face the impression of two red-hot bricks. I did not know what to say, and seeking escape from my embarra.s.sment I turned to the other window and remained in ecstatic contemplation of the landscape. Dona Amparo, who had remarked nothing, spoke in response to her daughter's observation:

"Emilio is a very good man, very industrious, although somewhat fantastic."

"How is he fantastic?" exclaimed Cristina, turning sharply, as if struck. "Because he desires what is better, more beautiful, and seeks to acquire it? That shows rather his good taste and good will. For if the world did not have men who aspired to perfection, who always see a 'farther on' and who take steps to approach it, neither these handsome country houses nor others still better, nor any of the comforts that we enjoy to-day would exist. The idlers, the spendthrifts, and the poor in spirit ridicule such ideas so long as they are not realized; but when the hour comes that the ends aimed at can be seen and touched, they shut themselves up in their houses and refuse to congratulate those who made it possible because they do not care to confess their stupidity. Then you know well that Emilio, however 'fantastic,' has never had the fantasy to think of himself; that all his efforts are devoted to give pleasure and prosperity to his family, to his friends, and to his neighbors, and that all his life up to now has been a constant sacrifice for others."

Dona Amparo, during this vehement discourse, showed herself strangely affected. I was astonished to see her stammer, rub her eyes, grow red in the face, and fall backward as if in a swoon.

"I--is it possible?--my son!"

Uttering these incoherent words, she swayed, then seemed to lose all sense of the external world. To restore her to consciousness it was necessary for her daughter to bathe her temples with eau de Cologne and apply sal-volatile to her nostrils. When at last she opened her eyes there burst forth a flood of tears that flowed down her cheeks and poured into her lap like a copious rain, some of which moistened my coat. At these symptoms Dona Cristina again opened the little satchel that she carried, that I could see contained numerous little flasks. She took one of these, together with a lump of sugar, and moistened the latter with several drops of liquid. She thrust the sugar into her mother's mouth; that lady gradually recovered her senses and at last was conscious of her whereabouts and of who was with her.

On my part, being the indirect cause of the unfortunate scene, I understood that nothing would be more suitable than for me to throw myself out of the carriage window, even though I should fracture my head; but imagining that the results of such a procedure might be too melancholy, I hit upon a decorous subst.i.tute by biting at the head of my cane and staring into vacancy. Dona Cristina did not choose to take cognizance of these tragic manifestations, but they so penetrated the heart of her mamma that the latter seized my hands convulsively, murmuring occasionally:

"Ribot! Ribot! Ribot!"

Fearing that she might again enter into the world of the unconscious, I hastened to take the flask of salts and hold it to her nose.

The rest of the way back, heaven be praised! was traversed without further mishap, and I made desperate efforts to have my foolishness forgotten and forgiven, talking with all formality about various things, princ.i.p.ally of those most to the taste of Dona Cristina. At length I was rewarded by seeing her bright face again unclouded and her eyes expressing their accustomed frank joyousness. And, prompted by her humor, she even went so far as to make gracious fun of her mamma.

"Did you know, Captain Ribot, that mamma never swoons except when she is with the family, or among persons in whom she confides? The greatest proof of the sympathy with which you inspire her is that which she has just given."

"Cristina! Cristina!" exclaimed Dona Amparo, half smiling, half indignant.

"Now, be frank, mamma! If Captain Ribot has not won your confidence, how is it you ventured to faint away in his presence?"

Dona Amparo decided to laugh, giving her daughter a pinch. When we parted at the hotel door they invited me to breakfast with them the next day, they having decided to leave for Madrid on the day after that.

It could no longer be doubted; if I was not in love I was on the way to be, with a fair wind and all sails set. Why was it that this woman had impressed me so profoundly in so short a time? I do not think it was merely her figure, although it coincided with the ideal type of beauty that I had always adored. If I had fallen in love with all the white and slender women with dark eyes that I had met in the course of my life, there would not have remained any time to do anything else. But she had a special attractiveness, at least for me, which consisted in a singular combination of joyousness and gravity, of sweetness and brusqueness, of daring and timidity, alternately reflected in her expressive countenance.

The next day, at the appointed time, I presented myself at the hotel.

Dona Cristina was in most delightful humor and let me know that we were to breakfast alone, for her mother had not slept well the night before and was still in bed. This filled me with selfish satisfaction, observing her merry mood. Before going to the table she served me an appetizer, graciously ridiculing me.

"Since you always have such a delicate appet.i.te, and look so languishing, I have ordered something bitter for you, to see if we cannot give a little tone to that stomach of yours."

I fell in with the jest.

"I am in despair. I comprehend that it is ridiculous to have such a ready appet.i.te, but I am a man of honor and I confess it. One time when I attempted to conceal it I missed my reckoning. One of my pa.s.sengers was a certain very charming and spirituelle lady towards whom I felt somewhat favorably disposed. I could think of no better means to inspire her interest than to feign an absolute lack of appet.i.te, naturally accompanied by languor and poetic melancholy. At table I refused the greater part of the dishes. My nourishment consisted of tapioca, vanilla cream, some fruit, and much coffee. Then I complained of weakness, and ordered gla.s.ses of sherry with biscuit. Of course I suffered terribly from hunger; but I overcame it finely in solitude. The lady became enthusiastic; she professed for me a profound and sincere admiration, and despised for their grossness all those at the table who were served with more solid nutriment. But, alas! there came a moment when she unexpectedly came down into the dining-saloon and surprised me feasting on cold ham. That ended the affair. She never spoke another word to me."

"She did right," said Dona Cristina, with a laugh. "Hypocrisy is something more shameful than a good appet.i.te."

We began our breakfast, and I gave her to understand that now that she so abhorred hypocrisy I proposed to proceed with all possible frankness.

"That is right! Entirely frank!" And she served me an enormous ration of omelette.

We went on chatting and laughing in undertones, but Dona Cristina did not neglect to serve me with fabulous quant.i.ties of food, greater, in truth, than my gastric capacity. I wanted to decline, but she would not permit it.

"Be frank, Captain! You have promised to be entirely frank."

"Senora, this surpa.s.ses frankness. Anybody might call it grossness."

"I do not call it so. Go on! Go on!"

But soon, straightening herself back in her chair a bit, and a.s.suming a solemn tone, she spoke:

"Captain, I am now going to treat you as if you had not only saved my mother's life, but mine as well. At one and the same time I wish to pay you for her life and my own."

My eyes opened widely without my comprehending the significance of such words. Dona Cristina rose from her chair and, going to the door, opened it wide. There appeared the maid with a big dish of stewed tripe in her hands.