The Joy of Captain Ribot Part 8

"Why did you let them come in here while I was busy?"

"They got away while I was getting out a shirt for you," she answered humbly.

And pushing the chicks before her, she drove them from the room. After this I felt hopeful that her husband would terminate his exhibition of canes. He finished at last, and I, knowing that I flattered him, uttered a thousand exaggerations about his collection, which profoundly delighted him. He then took the liberty of dressing before me. His wife began to wait upon him like the most efficient and servile of valets.

She put on his shirt; she put on his cravat; she got down upon the floor to fasten the b.u.t.tons of his shoes. This happy husband let himself be dressed and polished off with a restrained gravity, meantime prattling about his canes and pipes, these collections being, it appeared, the aim and end of his existence. From time to time he reproved his meek spouse.

"Don't fasten it so tight! Less dressing and more rubbing on these shoes! Tell the maid that I wish her to take care not to daub my shoes.

I don't care for that cravat; bring me a scarf that will tie!"

Finding a b.u.t.ton off his waistcoat, he was struck dumb. He stared at his wife with a look so severe that it made her flush.

"I don't know how I missed it," she stammered. "It came off when the waistcoat was washed. I put it aside to sew it on. I was called to the kitchen, and after all I forgot all about it."

"Nothing, it is nothing! Of what consequence is one b.u.t.ton more or less?" he said with a sarcastic smile.

"You know I am very sorry about it."

"Have I not told you it is nothing, madam? Why do you worry about it?

One b.u.t.ton, one b.u.t.ton! What does one b.u.t.ton signify compared to a bit of gossip with the laundress?"

"But, man, for heaven's sake, don't be like that!" she cried in anguish.

"Have I said anything?" he shouted, furious.

Matilde controlled herself and occupied herself with sewing on the b.u.t.ton.

"How _should_ I be? Say!" he persisted with unabated fury.

His wife did not look up.

Sabas then permitted several snorts to escape him, mingled with incoherent words, and accompanied by a gnashing of teeth that the sarcastic smile still upon his lips made even more repellent.

With heroic courage I tried to soothe his troubled spirit. The winds fell, the waves became tranquil, and he said to me affably:

"You are going to dine on a _paella_ to-day. I know it already from Cristina. My sister has a cook who stews like an angel."

Matilde finished sewing on the b.u.t.ton. When she lifted her head I saw tears in her eyes.

Sabas gave the signal for starting, but first he sent his good lady to find his gloves, to bring his stick, and then his handkerchief. He drenched it with scent from a perfume bottle, gave the last polish to his shoes, and a few touches of the comb to his whiskers. Matilde fluttered about him like a b.u.t.terfly, arranging his coat and his cravat and his hat with her plump white hands. And when he, dismissing her, took her chin in his hand with a careless, protecting gesture her eyes shone with a radiant, triumphant expression that seemed to transport her to the heavens.

In the pa.s.sage as we were going out we encountered the three children, who would have thrown themselves upon their father to be kissed, but he stopped them with a threatening gesture.

"No, I can't now. I should be all s...o...b..red over."

I, who had no fears of being daubed, kissed them with pleasure, wishing to make amends to them for his crossness. Vain hope! They received my caresses with indifference, following with their eyes their elegant and morose papa.

Matilde watched us from the top of the stair, having eyes for nothing but her husband. She noticed that the collar-band of his shirt did not fit well, on account of his overcoat, hastened to pull it down for him and turn it up; and profited by the opportunity to give a few more touches to his whiskers with her fingers.

It was now eleven o'clock in the forenoon. The streets were full of people. The sun shone in the sky in all its splendor. We breathed a perfumed air, proving ourselves to be in the city of flowers. At every step we encountered servants carrying branches and sprays of them that loving ones were sending to delight their friends. In Valencia flowers make up so large a part of life, and their use is so general and natural, that the sending of flowers is like saying good-morning.

Contemplating this profusion of carnations, roses, and lilies that rejoice the eyes and make fragrant the air, I could not help saying, "This is the city where there is so much that is lovely to enjoy that it matters little what one does with one's days!"

I could have gone about the streets with pleasure until time for dinner, but Sabas felt himself in duty bound to invite me to take an appetizer, and we entered a cafe in the Plaza de la Reina.

While sipping a gla.s.s of vermouth Sabas showed himself loquacious and expansive, but without losing his natural gravity. He talked to me about his family and friends. I saw at once that he had an a.n.a.lytical temperament of the first rank, clear perceptions, and a keen instinct for seeing the weak side of people and things.

His sister was a discreet woman, affectionate, of upright and n.o.ble intentions--but her character was excessively difficult; she enjoyed opposing people; at times she lacked courtesy; she was wanting in docility, in a certain meekness absolutely essential in a woman; lastly, although really generous, she did not make herself liked.

I should have enjoyed protesting against this absurd summing up. It was precisely these qualities of her character, at once timid and resolute, and her coldness a bit harsh, that made me more in love than ever. I abstained, however, for prudential reasons, from speaking.

His brother-in-law was, poor fellow, an industrious man, generous, intelligent in business--but absolutely incapable, as everybody knew.

All the world imposed upon him and used him. He was of a temperament so volatile that as soon as he had undertaken one project he was tired of it, and thinking of another. This had made him lose a great deal of money. He could not tell how many enterprises Marti had engaged in. Some of them would have been very successful if he had stayed in them; but he scarcely encountered the first difficulties in them before he threw them aside, abandoned them. He had only shown himself persistent where it was absolutely useless--in the matter of the artesian wells. What a lot of money the man had already carried off and buried in that wretched business! The one thing that had really turned out well had been the steamboats, and these he did not start, but inherited them from his father.

His friend Castell possessed great learning, expressed himself admirably, and was immensely rich--but had not a sc.r.a.p of heart. He had never shown any affection for anybody. Emilio was mistaken through and through in thinking that he returned the pa.s.sionate, fervent adoration that he felt for him.

"But do not touch upon this point when you are again with him, as I have tried it several times. Whenever the conversation brings in the name of Castell it is necessary to open the mouth, roll up the eyes to their whites, and fall into an ecstasy, as if one beheld a divinity of Olympus. Castell knows this weakness of my brother-in-law, approves of it, and gives himself airs over it. For the rest, on the day when he has any need of him, he will see how the matter stands then."

"But Marti told me that he finds money for him when he needs it in his business," I put in.

"Yes, yes," he agreed with his sarcastic smile; "I do not doubt that he finds money for him, but everybody in Valencia knows the meaning of that."

I asked no questions. Having been admitted into the intimacy of the family, I would not prompt him. Sabas went on:

"This man is, moreover, vicious and immoral. He has been entangled for years with a woman who has borne him several children; but this is no obstacle to his bringing back a charmer with him whenever he makes a foreign journey. He has already had three, one of them a Greek, a beautiful woman! He keeps them a while and presently tires of them, like lackeys who no longer please him. This, you understand, makes a great scandal in a provincial capital; but as he is named Don Enrique Castell and owns eight or ten million pesetas, n.o.body wishes to offend him. The priests and the canons, and even up to the bishop, take off their hats to him a league off."

"I have been told of the wealth of your relations, the Retamosos!"

"Oh, no; that is a much more modest fortune; it is counted by thousands of duros, not by millions; but all that has been earned bit by bit, did you know it?--peseta by peseta, at first behind a counter, and then at a desk."

"Your Aunt Clara, it seems, is a lady of much judgment in business."

Sabas roared with laughter.

"My Aunt Clara is an imbecile! She has never done anything in all her life, except speak English with governesses and show her cla.s.sic nose in the Glorieta and the Alameda. But my Uncle Diego is the slyest Galician born in this century. He laughs at his wife, and he is capable of laughing at his own ghost. I do not consider that he has ability for any great enterprises. He has not, as I just said, the genius of affairs; but I a.s.sure you that, among those who handle small amounts, I have never known, nor do I think you could readily find, a more cautious man."

In this fashion my elegant friend continued his studies of his family with a criticism implacable, yet clever and at times witty. From that he went on to talk about his native city; and I found his observations concerning the character of the Valencians, their customs, politics, and administration of provincial affairs, sharp and to the point. I confess that I had mistaken him. I had at first taken him for a mere c.o.xcomb, a vapid and frivolous young man. He turned out to be a man of good understanding, observing and clever, although a little exaggerated in his a.n.a.lyses, and sufficiently severe.

We went out of the cafe, and before going to the house, we took another turn in the streets. Naturally, as I am a native of the east coast, son of a sailor, and myself a sailor, the aspect of the great Mediterranean city had an especial seduction for me. The narrow streets, tortuous, clean, with their profusion of fine shops; the large number of ancient stone houses with artistic facades, belonging to n.o.ble families that have made their names known and respected throughout the world; the hill towers, among whose turrets one may imagine still flit the old-time archers; the bridges with their benches; the Lonja, whose rooms of exceptional size and beauty shelter the richest traders of Spain; the lively market-place and open s.p.a.ce about--all reveal, together with her mercantile traditions, an ancient and opulent capital. All spoke to me of the grandeur of my race.

I gave myself into the hands of my companion, who took me to the flower-market. We were not long in penetrating an iron-walled pa.s.sage where, on one side and the other, leaving s.p.a.ce in the middle, was seen a mult.i.tude of pale, black-eyed women exhibiting their merchandise--carnations, roses, lilies, hibiscus, and iris. Great was the animation in this little place. Ladies, with their rosaries and ma.s.s-books in their hands, stood before these venders, examining their wares with liberal and intelligent eye, and bargaining everlastingly before deciding to buy. Gentlemen laden with branches and sprays were given numerous instructions concerning their arrangement. Servants and shop-girls also hastened to the stalls, took their little handful of flowers, stuck some of them in their hair, and leaving their bits of copper, marched happily away with others in their hands, to continue their tasks. With what enthusiasm they would look at their flower-fillets! With what pleasure they breathed their fragrance!

As we cruised among the stalls I observed that most of the flower-venders greeted my friend by name, smiling amiably upon him, and asking him if he had no orders to give.

"You are popular in the market," I said to him, laughing.

"I am a good customer, nothing more," he answered modestly.

And placing his hand on my shoulder, he pushed me towards one of the doors, where we stationed ourselves, somewhat retired and half-hidden among the foliage.