THE spring came. The northeast winds, like a gigantic besom swung by the hand of some god with a passion for cleanliness, constantly swept away the dust and ashes of the firmament. The sailors who put out at daybreak after fish, as they set foot on the quay often saw above the distant houses of El Moral a wide strip of azure sky, which went on slowly spreading to the four points of the compass, leaving a few tenuous shreds of violet cloud like great eyebrows overhanging the horizon. The vast sheet of the river now gave forth lovely blue sparkles in place of the melancholy, metallic reflections of the winter; and the wooden hulks called barcos by a misnomer, pitched in the dock like colts impatient to be off. But in the afternoon winter still clung to its rights; now spreading over town and river a thick mantle of fog which quickly changed into storm; now furiously driving across the sky colossal black clouds which discharged their freight as they flew inland. Some days, however, at sunset a breath of genial air came from the land, and brought the delightful tidings to the peaceful inhabitants of Nieva that the most lovely and coquettish of the seasons was present in that jurisdiction; and this breath of air laden with perfumes, reaching by the medium of the nostrils to the brains of those inhabitants who were most inclined to poesy and sweet expansions of the heart, manifested itself as the avowed enemy of tranquillity in feminine minds, and as the infamous disturber of peace in families. The town slept placidly like a sultana, receiving the adulatory caresses of this breeze. Nevertheless, the calm underneath the roofs was more apparent than real; a large part of the inhabitants slept the sleep of the righteous as before, but another no less numerous and estimable, without knowing any reason for it, awoke more than once in the course of the night, and occasionally spent an hour unsuccessfully wooing sleep by lighting the lamp, and reading the articles in The Times.[39] They drank great goblets of water; they dreamed fifty thousand absurd dreams, which, when they remembered them in the morning, made the worthy natives smile, and more than one, and more than two, caught colds on their lungs by getting uncovered at night. In the two apothecary shops of the town a prodigious quantity of pearl barley was disposed of; some banished wine from the table to the astonishment of their wives; and the behavior of young men toward the girls became extremely dulcified. The Market Street[40] bookseller sent to Madrid for a quantity of novels by Paul de Kock and Adolphe Belot on commission for his customers, and the professor of the piano made a similar demand on the music publishers, for various sentimental romanzas with erotic titles, such as Vorrei morir, Tutto per te, Non posso vivere, and others of like quality, at the request of his pupils. The swallows began to take possession of the corridors, and after making love for a few days, chasing each other through the air with obstreperous chirpings and then retiring couple by couple to the most remote corners of the gardens, without any thought of Mrs. Grundy or of due formality; they celebrated their nuptials with the same freedom, without consulting the desires of papas or asking for a special dispensation, or by publishing the banns through the office of the parochial priest, or by ordering a trousseau from Paris, or by receiving a miserable coffee service from relatives, or sending cards to friends and acquaintances, announcing their indissoluble union; or even by having a notice inserted in the Correspondencía de España, saying: "Yesterday, before a numerous and select assemblage, in which were included the most illustrious members of the nobility and the world of politics and literature, were celebrated in the house of the bride the long announced nuptials of the most beautiful and distinguished dame swallow, Lady Such an One, to the wealthy sir swallow, Lord Somebody or Other.[41] After enjoying a splendid collation, the newly married couple departed to their noble domain of Robledales in Aragon." And whoever speaks of the swallows may clearly say the same thing of the whole throng of birds which had encamped both in the gardens of Nieva and in the immense pine groves which lined the banks of its river.
To be reckoned among the people most manifestly influenced by this spring breeze (leaving aside, of course, the Señorita de Delgado, with whom no one would dare to maintain any rivalry in the matter of sensations, sentiments, emotions, and all that refers to the life of the heart), was our acquaintance, Manolito Lopez. His worthy family noticed with grateful surprise, not only that the lad's character was manifestly softening, but likewise that the habits of orderliness and an inclination toward sedateness had sprung up, and were growing in him with unusual rapidity. This praiseworthy inclination was manifested in everything that pertained to the adornment of his person, but most particularly to that of his feet; a box of superior blacking every fortnight was not sufficient for the demands of his shoes, and he spent a large part of the morning and of his physical powers in making them shine like a looking-glass, and even thus he was not content: Manolito would not have been satisfied if anything less than the brilliancy of a Brazilian diamond, of all the jewels of the royal crowns of Europe, of the seas and the stars had been put into them. After giving the last finishing touch to his hair, Manolito always sallied forth in the amiable company of his glistening boots to promenade in front of the house of Elorza, and up the street and down the street he went all the time allowed him by his occupations, and also a good part of the time when he had no business to be there. The balconies of the house, as a rule, remained hermetically sealed; but Manolito, judging by the graceful gait which he affected as he passed, must have suspected that a pair of steady, love-stricken eyes were always observing him through the cracks. Once in a while the balconies were thrown open, giving a glimpse of Carmen, of Genoveva, of Adela, or some other servant, who looked at him without sufficient respect considering our young lad's age (fifteen years and three months) and his character. Very, very rarely likewise appeared Marta's pretty head. She looked out for an instant with an expression of indifference which, be it said for the sake of the truth, did not change into one of affection and tenderness at sight of Manolito, but certainly remained exactly as calm and serene as though our youth had no more personality than a column of the arcade, or the clock on the town-house, or the sign of the Café de la Estrella, or any other of the inanimate objects whereon the girl's eyes rested. Manolito, for a few moments, felt as much disturbed as one who, sailing through the Arctic Ocean, should suddenly see an enormous iceberg coming down upon him; but soon he recovered his spirits, saying, for the encouragement of his heart, "What a sly one she is!" And though the balconies were immediately shut with a scornful screak, and remained closed all the day, yet Manolito did not cease to promenade back and promenade forth, fortified always in his conviction that through the interstices of the curtains a pair of ecstatic, love-softened eyes were launching at him a thousand passionate darts.
But where the spring held a more absolute and even despotic sway (always excepting, of course, the Señorita de Delgado's poetical soul) was the Elorza garden. There, without consulting in the slightest degree the will of the flexible mimosas or of the round acacias or of the dignified catalpas or of any other tree or shrub, flower or plant, however respectable, she began to clothe them all in green, carefully variegating their garments, making this one deep and dark, that one bright and dazzling, and the other pale and yellow, playing with them a sort of gay, original masquerade delightful for those to see who still persist in feeling affection for the works of nature. Above this habiliment there shone like decorations of honor many flowers, yellow, white, blue, or pink, quick to fill the ambient air with the sweet perfumes stored up in their hearts. The garden was unusually extensive, stretching out from the plaza where Don Mariano's mansion was built to the quay on one side, and on the other to the farthest houses of the town. And whether because it was not very easy to take the most perfect care of such a large piece of ground, or because Don Mariano as a man of taste did not wish to impose upon Nature his own law, by establishing in her demesne a tyrannical system of geometrical crosses and lines, at any rate it offered all the lawless vigor, the exuberance, and the spontaneity, which it is not customary to find any longer except in provincial gardens managed according to a broad and tolerant Spanish fashion. The paths, though originally laid out in straight lines according to the style in vogue at the time when they were first designed, were now fluctuating, thanks to the growing up or disappearance of quince-tree, boxwood, or rose hedges. The trees in many places enclosed these paths with a thicket, giving them an air of long mystery, which, according to amateurs, is the greatest charm of gardens, and I appeal to the testimony of all ardent and elevated souls, particularly to the Señorita de Delgado. Back of the trees, through the hedges, could be seen a stone faun or satyr, discolored by great green spots on the muscular shoulders, spurting water from mouth and nostrils; in this agreeable occupation its whole life had been spent. Flowers in the Elorza garden did not possess those inordinate privileges which they are wont to obtain in flashy parks of modern times, but a number of succulent vegetables had established themselves on a footing of equality with them. At the side of a group or clump of dahlias grew an asparagus-bed, and within sight of a splendid bunch of canna indica and calladium flourished a thicket of artichokes and a bed of Alsatian cabbages. And why not? However indisputable the superiority of flowers may be, we must not deny to vegetables æsthetic qualities worthy of the consideration and respect of French gardeners, who at the present time have declared a merciless war upon them. Perhaps they consider that if vegetables are banished from parks, they bury prose forever and have poetry only left, according to the example of those ancient novelists who did not dare to show their heroes and heroines in the act of eating for fear of soiling or tarnishing them. In one of the angles there was a great storehouse where were piled old furniture from the house, a number of broken-down carriages, the gardening utensils, and other things. The whole garden was surrounded by a wall of considerable thickness and elevation, over which climbed ivy and honeysuckle cautiously letting their leaves peer over the top, like two rogues coming in to rob fruit and get away before they should be discovered by the gardener. Over one of the faces of the wall arose the masts of the vessels at the quay, which with their multitudinous cordage enlacing and crossing in every direction, looked from a distance like monstrous spiders. A great gate barred with iron led from the garden to the quay.
The younger daughter of the proprietor of this garden found herself in it one morning culling flowers with a pair of shears suspended from her belt, and afterwards placing them very daintily in a small osier basket. She went about taking them now from this side and now from that, seeming at times to ponder before some, leaving them untouched to go straightway to others, and then coming back to them, thus endlessly meandering in every direction with hesitating step. She was so immersed in the depths of some combination for her bouquet that she allowed herself to be pitilessly burned by the sun, more splendid in his anger and pride than was his wont. Since we last saw her, a slight change not easy to define had taken place in her figure. She had just finished her fourteenth year. Her physical development, always exuberant and vigorous, had taken a sudden start during the last three months, not causing her to grow at once tall and thin, as is apt to be the case with girls at this age, but bringing her beauty to a more ideal perfection. Marta was destined to be rather stout: nature had been giving the last touches to her figure, strengthening the line of her hips, rounding her arms, filling out her virginal bosom, and perfecting the oval of her face, without being willing, on any consideration, to grant her three inches more of stature, though she really needed them. On this account an Andalusian cavalry lieutenant, while saying something in her praise and dispraise in a game of forfeits, recently declared, "You are very charming, but your roundness is alarming."[42] And this had given occasion for the friends of the house to call her in fun la redondita (the round), and to plague her continually with the Andalusian rhyme. The expression of her face was as placid, grave, and as gentle as before. Nevertheless, her great black eyes, calm and liquid, which, as we have said, used to present a certain strange immobility, such as is seen in those suffering from gutta serena, acquired a movement so gentle and sweet that one of the De Ciudad girls, the very one who had pointed her out to the engineer Suárez, could not help exclaiming the other night,—
"Don't you see how sweet Martita is looking!"
"Certainly," replied the engineer, "that girl seems to caress you with her eyes when she looks."
At the same time they inclined to grow liquid, which still more increased their brilliancy and gentleness. At this particular moment she wore a dark violet dress, extremely snug and well fitted to her body, and, although at her earnest request it had been made a little longer than before, still, as she stooped over to cut the flowers, it allowed more than a glimpse to be seen of a pair of beautiful, well rounded ankles, comparable with the arms which Ricardo had admired.
After she had cut as many flowers as she wanted, she sat on a stone bench in the shade, and placing the basket by her side and taking out a ball of thread, proceeded, with great calmness, to make a nosegay. First she took a magnificent white tea-rose, and pulled off all its thorns, tying around it instead some leaves of althea. As she reached this stage in her operation, Ricardo made his appearance. Marta raised her head, hearing his steps, and quickly dropped it again, continuing her work.
"I have been hunting for you, Martita."
"What for?"
"Nothing ... only to see you.... Is that a little thing?"
"If that's all, it seems to me a very little thing; yes!"
"Perhaps you don't want me to see you?"
"I didn't say so ... but as it hasn't been twenty-four hours since you got home...."
"Well, at any rate I wanted to see you."
Marta said nothing, and kept on with her task, placing around the rose and in the althea three pansies. Ricardo also had changed a little since the last time that we saw him. His face had grown somewhat thinner, and in place of its ordinary expression of contentment had come another as of fatigue sometimes approximating to gloom and bitterness. Unquestionably he had not been very happy during the last months, and we know very well that he had no good reason for being. The perpetual struggle which he had to sustain with Maria's scruples, and the sincere or simulated coldness which he saw in her, caused a steady, dull discomfort which embittered his existence. The brief moments when he succeeded in talking with his beloved, instead of being brightened by the sweet expressions of love, were generally spent in bickerings and recriminations, or at least in long exhortations on one side and the other,—Ricardo trying to prove to Maria that her pious practices were an exaggeration incompatible with human nature; Maria urging Ricardo to abandon the frivolities of the world and enter upon the road of virtue, which is that of salvation.
After he had silently watched Marta's work a moment, he asked her,—
"Whom is that bouquet for?"
"For Maria, who wants to begin her flowers for the Virgin this evening. She asked me to make two, and I keep one in the house."
A flash of joy passed through the young man's eyes at the mention of his sweetheart's name, and he began to take an interest in the formation of the nosegay. Marta noticed particularly her future brother's joy and interest. Between the three pansies she placed three pinks,—one red, one rose-colored, and the other white. Then she took a number of leaves of sweet marjoram and rose, and tied up with them the growing bouquet; thereupon she placed all around it a row of marguerites, alternating the colors,—purple, white, blue, and mottled.
"Now, you ought to put in some pinks," added Ricardo, with the boldness of ignorance.
"Hush, Ricardo, you don't know what you are talking about.... Now you want a filling of sweet marjoram and althea, so that the marguerites may have a background.... Flowers must be loose and not touch each other, so that each may preserve its form in the bunch.... Do you see?... Now a row of roses can be added without fear of crushing the marguerites ... a white one, then a red one ... a white one ... another red one ... there! that'll do!"
The thread unrolled between her fingers, gently binding the flowers together; the nosegay went on assuming a pyramidal form very well proportioned. Ricardo, looking into the basket, saw some extremely bright-colored geraniums, and cried out,—
"Oh, how lovely those geraniums are!... Such a bright color ought to become you, Martita; put one in your hair."
The girl, without more ado, took the one that he offered her, and stuck it in her dark locks above her ear. This combination of red and black, which is vulgar, as all girls know, appeared more harmonious than ordinarily, through the exceptional intensity not only of the black, but of the red. The geranium, on being translated to that position, seemed to have fulfilled its destiny on earth, or to have realized its essence, as my friend Homobono Pereda, shining with more beauty and satisfaction than ever, would say. Ricardo contemplated Marta's head with genuine admiration, while an innocent smile of triumph hovered over her lips and in her eyes.
Around the roses she placed, instead of the green setting of sweet marjoram and althea, another of white and blue violets, and next a row of geraniums of all colors, combining them exquisitely. The bouquet was finished. To add a crowning grace she put in a few handfuls of thyme, arranging them in such a way that they might serve as a support. The flowers, all artistically combined, appeared loose, each one showing its own individuality, or, as my friend Homobono would add, perfectly united in the whole.
Marta lifted the nosegay up, saying, with childish delight,--
"Isn't that fine!... isn't that fine!
"Admirable!... admirable!" cried Ricardo, and in the height of his enthusiasm he took the nosegay, waved it several times, and then laying it down in the basket, seized the girl's hand and lifted it to his lips.
Marta grew as scarlet as the geranium that she wore in her hair, and snatched her hand away. Ricardo looked at her with a mischievous smile, and said:—
"What's does this mean, señorita, what does this mean? You are ashamed to have any one kiss your hand, when it isn't four months since we all kissed you on the cheek? That won't do ... that won't do at all...."
And forcibly seizing her two hands he began to shower kisses on them without stopping, until he thought he felt something strange on his head, and lifted it. Marta was in tears. The young man's surprise was so great that he dropped her hands without saying a word. The girl hid her face in them, and began to sob with keen pain.
"Martita, what is it? What is the matter with you?" he asked, thoroughly terrified, stooping down to look into her face.
"Nothing! nothing!... Leave me...."
"But what are you crying about?... Have I hurt you? Have I offended you?"
"No, no!... Leave me, Ricardo ... leave me, for Heaven's sake!"
And jumping from the bench, she started to run toward the house, wiping her eyes. Ricardo grew more and more surprised, as he saw her disappearing, and he stayed some time at the bench, trying in vain to explain the girl's behavior. Then he got up, and began to promenade in the garden. In a short time he had entirely forgotten Marta's tears; more painful memories came to disturb his mind and absorb his attention. An hour, at least, he spent in walking up and down the park, thinking about them, until at last, as he passed in front of the bench where he had been sitting with the girl, he noticed that her bouquet still remained in the basket, as she had left it, and thinking that it was not good for it to be there, he started with it to the house. He asked the first servant whom he met where the señorita was to be found.
"I think she is in the señora's room."
He turned his steps thither. At Doña Gertrudis's room he met Marta, who was doubtless bound on some errand for her mother. The girl, who still wore the red geranium in her hair, as soon as she saw him, gave him a sweet smile, and showed signs of being somewhat confused.
"Are you still vexed, Martita?" asked Ricardo, in a whisper.
"I wasn't vexed at all, Ricardo."
"But those tears?"
"I myself don't know what made me.... I have not been quite well for a few days, ... and I cry without any reason."
"Then I am relieved in my heart, preciosa. You can't imagine how I felt at having caused you any pain!"
"Bah!"
"And how violently you wept! I believed that something really serious had occurred.... Has anything happened to grieve you to-day?"
"No, no; nothing at all.... I shall be right back. Good by."
The Marquis of Peñalta went into Doña Gertrudis's room, where at that time Don Mariano and Don Maximo were conversing together, neither of them showing in their faces any of the painful anguish, the pallor, and the fear of those who are witnessing the last agony of the dying; and this irritated Doña Gertrudis to such a degree that she would almost have taken delight in dying at that moment, for the sake of giving them a scare. She was reclining, as usual, in her easy-chair, her feet and legs wrapt up in a magnificent mountain goat-skin, casting looks of bitter desolation, now at the ceiling, and now at a cup of milk which she held in her hand. From time to time she carried it to her lips, and swallowed a portion of its contents, thereupon lifting her eyes, and exclaiming inwardly, "My God, may this cup pass from me!" Again and again she looked at her persecutors with ineffable serenity, saying, in a touching manner, that if God forgave their cruelty, she, for her part, did not find it hard to grant them a full and generous pardon, though she greatly doubted whether the Supreme Creator would grant it.
Ricardo sat down near the persecutors, without any ceremony, for that very morning he had had the opportunity of spending a good hour over Doña Gertrudis's nerves. She, considering that whoever has to do with sinners is prone to fall into sin, included him in advance in the universal and liberal amnesty which she had declared in favor of those who offended her.
"I would never permit either traitorous periodicals, like El Tradición, or magistrates who would not obey the government punctually and unconditionally, Don Maximo."
"I agree with you up to a certain point; yet we find ourselves in a time of conflict, and it is necessary to proceed by exceptional measures. But you will not deny that, in a normal state of things, liberty—"
"Liberty and not license!... Liberty to work ... that's the only kind that we need. Roads, bridges, factories, land improvements, railways, and ports, that is all that our unfortunate nation asks for.... The liberty that you progressists are ambitious to get is liberty to starve to death.... When I consider that, if it had not been for la gloriosa, our railway would have been at point of completion, such desperation seizes me that—"
"This is only a passing conclusion, Don Maximo.... You will see how very soon the rainbow of peace will shine!"
"Yes, yes ... it is certainly raining now.... Have you read the leading article in La Tradición? [La Tradición was a Carlist journal, published in Nieva every Thursday.] Then, when you read it, you will see what rainbows the partisans of the Church and the throne are getting ready for us...."
"Is it very strong?"
"It's a trifling thing!... It says that all good Catholics ought to take arms to exterminate the horde of the impious and ruffianly who govern us to-day...."
At this moment Marta entered the room. As she passed in front of Ricardo, he took her by the hand, and obliged her to sit on his knees, giving her a speechless look of tenderness with his eyes, without losing any of the conversation. The girl sat down without resistance, and likewise listened in silence.
"But does it really say that?" asked Don Maximo.
"It certainly does.... Read it for yourself, and you will be edified.... In my opinion the Carlists are meditating and even plotting some coup de main. The general commander is taking too little care of this region, and is carrying off all the forces to drive the guerillas from the highlands.... The factory always requires a strong garrison for what might happen.... It is a prize coveted by them."
"I don't believe that they would ever dare to make any attempt in that direction. And except that the señor marqués says...."
Ricardo did not catch Don Maximo's last words, for, with an affectionate smile, he was saluting Maria, who at that moment came in. After she had sat down near Doña Gertrudis, and exchanged a look or two with him, he remembered the remark that had been directed to him.
"What did you say Don Maximo?"
"That I don't believe the Carlists have any intentions against the factory.... It would be a ridiculous undertaking."
"Oh, no indeed! Not so ridiculous as you imagine, Don Maximo.... This very day, with the small garrison which we have there, it would not be impossible or very difficult to take it by surprise.... How many times I have thought, when on guard at night, that thirty decided men might get the better of me! If they succeeded in procuring a foothold inside, the thirty would be settled, you may believe...."
"Do you hear what he says, you stubborn man? do you hear him? Now you shall see how we must look out for our powder magazine, now that thunderbolts and meteors are falling. But listen to one thing, Ricardo, why don't you utilize for the defence of the factory the last advances made in electric lighting?"
"How?"
"I should suggest that if a number of electric lamps were put in different parts of it, which the officer on guard could set going by simply pressing a button, all danger of a surprise could easily be avoided; and if at the same time a goodly number of heavy bells were set up, likewise worked by electricity, which would give an instant alarm in the city and wake the workmen, who for the most part live near.... Martita! what's the matter?" he exclaimed, suddenly breaking off the thread of his discourse.
All hastened to her assistance. The girl, who was still seated on Ricardo's knees, had grown pale without any one noticing it. When Don Mariano casually glanced at her, she was white as a sheet of paper.
"What is it, my daughter?"
"What is the matter, Martita?"
"I don't feel quite well. Give me a glass of water." Maria ran to get it for her. Don Maximo felt of her pulse and said,—
"It's only a little giddiness, which water will cure."
In point of fact, as soon as she drank the water, and had sat down on the sofa, she began to feel better, and in a few moments was perfectly well. The conversation went on.
FOR a fortnight at least there had been talk of an excursion to El Moral and the island. During the spring the young ladies[43] who went to the parties at the house of the Elorzas had been anxious to form a capital with the products of the tax and lottery to defray the expenses. Don Mariano allowed them to do so, smiling roguishly every time that he was told the state of the funds; but when the time came which was fixed for the excursion, in presence of the whole tertulia, he took the handful of silver from the little box in which it was kept and handed it to the parish priest of Nieva to divide among the parishioners who most needed it.
"Why!" exclaimed the noble caballero at the same time, "is it not a hundred-fold better to spend this money in alleviating the hunger of one or two poor people than in a frivolous and unnecessary amusement?"
"Certainly, certainly," said the girls, putting on an expression which in truth did not give evidence of the purest delights of virtue and the joys of the righteous.
That evening there was very little talking, singing, and dancing at the Elorza tertulia. Virtue, stern by nature, does not approve of noisy demonstrations. The young people of both sexes expressed the deep, pure satisfaction with which their sacrifice had inspired them by an ineffable severity, making them demure and silent the most of the time, as though they were meditating deeply on some Gospel text. Great, therefore, must have been the displeasure felt by all when Don Mariano said to them at the last moment:—
"Ladies and gentlemen, Thursday, at eight o'clock in the morning, I should be greatly pleased to have you meet at the quay, properly provided with hats, parasols, wraps, and so forth and so forth. Nothing is more likely than that the sailors of my falúa will be anxious to take us down to El Moral, and, as you well know, it wouldn't be polite to disappoint them."
The tertulia deplored this determination which deprived them of making a sacrifice for the universal brotherhood, and manifested it with a running fire of laughter, remarks, and disorderly movements: "What a man Don Mariano is!" "He always has to be playing these jokes!" "Thursday, Thursday!" "What engagement have I for Thursday? Oh, none, I believe." "Must we take waterproofs?" "I think cloaks will be enough." And so on.
And in fact, on Thursday at eight o'clock in the morning, Don Mariano's launch and the quarantine boat, both clean and adorned like damsels on a fête-day, were impatiently waiting for the people, tossing side by side in the slip by the quay. Four sailors in each were making the final arrangements, from time to time casting inquiring glances now at the river, now at the streets which led from the quay. The passengers were not in sight, and the tide had already gone down two feet and a half. One of the sailors expressed his dislike of tardiness in a rough voice which was far enough from fashionable. At last appeared a variegated group of women and men among whom straw hats and red cloaks predominated, and the old sea-dog who had just been swearing like a pirate blasphemed once more out of pure satisfaction, and put down a gang-plank between the dock and the falúa for the people to cross on. The first to leap on board was Don Mariano. The boat gently tipped on one side when she received her master's weight, as though making him a loving bow. All the young ladies, including, of course, the Delgados, next came tripping on board, leaning on Don Mariano's strong hand: the gentlemen followed. When the first falúa was full, they began to load the second, and this was quickly accomplished. In the first, among other people of distinction, were the two Misses de Delgado with their sister, the widow, who chaperoned them; the De Merinos with their brother Bonifacio, the most self-satisfied of all brothers; three or four officials from the factory, Don Mariano, Don Maximo, Martita, and Ricardo. Maria did not go because she would not break her vow to refrain from all recreation. Likewise Doña Gertrudis's indisposition prevented her from taking part in the excursion. In the second boat excellent accommodation was found by our friend, the fascinating, sprightly Señorita de Morí, under the watchful goggle eyes of the illustrious Isidorito. Likewise, we can distinguish among others a very pretty young girl named Rosario with whom the young swell at her side was not able to dance on the evening of the Elorza soirée, on account of the war proclaimed by the pianist against the German. The sailors were just going to cast off the lines for starting when from one of the falúas came a voice, asking,—
"But the De Ciudads?"
The De Ciudads were missing. Don Mariano and the quarantine doctor were in consternation at the mention of this name, which was such a guaranty of respectability. Before they had recovered from their consternation, there appeared at the end of one of the streets leading to the quay the six señoritas accompanied by their papa, their mamma, their engineer Suárez, and two small brothers. It was impossible to accommodate so many people in the two falúas; they had to hunt up another, and man it with the first sailors they could find, and thus precious time was lost. But at last, as everything in this world can be managed except death, the De Ciudads and their friends were well bestowed in a fishing-boat, and the captain of the quarantine gave the signal for the start. The twelve oars of the falúas began to strike the water in time with a gentle splash, like the arms of one stretching.
The level of the river was smooth, motionless, and bright as a mirror; the sun cast upon it wide, silvery spots towards the centre, and darker ones near the edges. The sky was covered by a delicate veil of clouds, making a splendid rival for the ladies' hats and parasols. Only a gentle breeze laden with the keen odor of pines on the shore came timidly kissing the soft back of the waters, and the no less soft and fresh necks of the ladies. It was not as yet a legitimate sea-breeze, but a hybrid kind[44] with the characteristics both of sea and land. The oars now put out all their agility, and with their blades lifted the crystal of the waters, causing fleeting, foamy whirlpools; all faces showed the healthful joy which is always caused by motion and the ever new and beautiful spectacle of nature. The girls, bending over the gunwale of the boat, delighted in taking off their rings and plunging their hands into the water, letting it pour with a murmur through their white fingers: they talked, they screamed, they laughed, and they exchanged greetings from one boat to the other. The young fellows spattered their faces with their canes or suddenly leaned to one side to scare them, taking great pleasure in their cries of desperation. All was noise and hubbub in the little squadron. As they came near El Moral, the marine characteristics of the breeze began to get the upper hand of the inland ones; it grew stronger, sometimes even blowing violently, as when the falúas passed by some glen made through the hills or sloping banks which shut in the river valley. The ribbons on the hats, the pennants on the mast-heads, handkerchiefs and neckties began to flutter violently. The voyagers felt the sweet deafness caused by the keen, salt-nurtured wind of the sea. A few aquatic birds of little account flew out from one shore and went flapping above the falúas, which was sufficient cause for Don Serapio, in a fit of enthusiasm for the sea, to get upon deck and, leaning over the flagstaff like one possessed, to sing the song which begins:—
| "Al ver en la inmensa llanura del mar. |
| When o'er the mighty prairie of the sea, |
| I watch the sea-gulls in their rapid flight, |
| My soul is filled with envious thoughts," etc. |
If the river could blush, it would not have failed to do so on hearing itself called so hyperbolically the mighty prairie; but it took it in bad part, believing that there was some joke intended, and was seriously angry. At all events, the wind undertook to wreak vengeance for it by suddenly snatching off the inspired singer's sombrero and cutting short the current, not to say the torrent, of his voice. The falúa in the wake picked up the hat and restored it in a very water-soaked condition to its owner, who showed no more desire for the time being to continue apostrophizing the sea-gulls.
The little squadron stood nearer and nearer to the handful of houses at El Moral, distant from Nieva about a league and a half. The town kept growing more distant from our voyagers, offering them a beautiful spectacle. It was situated under the brow of a not very lofty mountain, decorated with green gardens and groups of laurel and orange trees on all sides; its white-walled houses seemed to have been placed in such a situation by the hand of an artist who believed in combining the advantages of nature so as to produce the æsthetic emotion, as a stage manager would say; the dazzling whiteness of the town stood out against the dark green of the mountain like a great patch of snow stretching down from the top; the silvery sheet of the river extending at its feet waited motionless and humble till it should melt into its bosom. The gentle, pine-clad hills which bordered the shores, and which our voyagers left one after the other, seemed like the bristling backs of huge, fantastic monsters.
The remarks made by one falúa to another gradually ceased. Each of the boats recovered self-jurisdiction, living for itself alone. Let us listen to what is said in them.
IN THE ELORZA FALÚA.
"I am well in years, Don Maximo, but I expect that my daughters are going to see this river perfectly channelled. The amount of water entering the mouth of the port would be sufficient to float vessels of the greatest draught, if it were not so spread out. The question is to utilize it. And how can this be done? Why, it must be done by force, by means of two parallel jetties, which should begin at the very bar and come up as far as Nieva. The water, both at ebb and flow, will pass between them with greater rapidity, working over the bottom until it deepens it. Gradually the space included between the channel and the shores will be left dry, and can be easily improved. To accomplish the drainage, all that is needed is to construct a clay dike against each of the jetties, and open large gates through which the water can flow out but not come in.... Excuse my earnestness!... I know well that this is not a work of months, but of many years; still there is nothing impossible about it.... Once reclaimed, these wide spaces would doubtless be utilized by the population of Nieva, even to the very bank of the beautiful canal, which would be constantly crowded with every kind of craft. The new city built on such a wide level would most certainly have its streets laid out at right angles, like those of the American cities, and magnificent wharves. The true port, however, cannot be here, but near the roadstead of Los Arenales, ... very soon we shall be passing by it. It is a well-sheltered and extensive site, where a whole fleet could have stay-room.... At present it is not very deep; I am perfectly aware of that, but it has a sandy bottom, and you know that with the powerful dredging-machines which we have nowadays, in a very short time, it could be made two or three metres deeper.... Then Nieva will be the most important part of El Cantábrico; the larger part of our mineral products will be exported through it, for the dock at Sarrió is very small, and there is no chance to increase it; instead of going to French watering-places to spend the summer, the Spaniards will come to these beautiful Northern Provinces, neglected to-day for lack of means of communication.... How is Biarritz to be compared in spring with these fresh, delicious regions? What sea-coast of Arcachón can enter into rivalry with ours at Miramar and Las Huelgas?..."
ON BOARD OF LA SANIDAD.
"Last night I slept splendidly, after a number of nights when I didn't close my eyes hardly at all," said the Señorita de Morí to her friend Rosario, who was seated near her.... "I don't know what has been ailing me this long time.... I feel nervous.... My head aches when I get up.... I think I need a tonic."
"Sometimes you need to give the heart a tonic, señorita," said Isidorito, boldly, with his face frightfully contracted by a smile.
"I didn't know that the apothecary shops furnished tonics for the heart," replied the young lady, with a scornful gesture, directing her words to Rosario.
"Oh, no, señorita; not in the apothecary shops; the heart is not cured by the preparations of ordinary therapeutics, nor by any formulas of the pharmacopœia, for it has, apart from its physical nature, which is not unlike the rest of the viscera, another nature purely spiritual as we are generally accustomed to speak of it, and this cannot be treated except by moral medicaments. When I said that sometimes you need to give your heart a tonic, I meant to indicate that possibly it would be good for you to drive away certain preoccupations of an amorous character, which often are wont to affect it."
"I am not troubled by these preoccupations of which you speak, nor do I intend to have them at present, God helping me," replied the señorita with the same air of dissatisfaction as before, and addressing herself only to Rosario.
"You cannot affirm that in such a categorical manner."
"And why not?"
"For in the state in which you find yourself it is very difficult, not to say impossible, to fathom all the profundities of the spirit and scrutinize all of its hiding-places. Frequently impressions make their way into our souls in a surreptitious manner without our taking note of it; they begin by being vague and fugitive, and for that very reason pass without being observed; but slowly they go on taking shape, growing in strength, and finally they conquer the individual and rule him at their will. Then they pass into the category of the passions."
"But I know perfectly well what I feel and what I don't feel."
"Oh, no, señorita; allow me to contradict you. You cannot know."
"Man, for goodness' sake! Can't I know what I feel?"
"Why, then, you must know that—"
"Perhaps I know better than you do. Self-observation, according to all the philosophers and moralists, is more difficult than to observe others, and there are very few who are able to reach to it. On the other hand, youth is little prone to reflection, and above all women are incapable of taking perfect account of their inclinations and of the vague emotions passing through their hearts."
"Look you! women are as God created them, and so are men."
"I don't doubt it; but God has so created them, with a sensitive capacity (if I may express myself in this way) more quick and delicate than that of men. It may be said that they are born exclusively for love, and that love ought to fill the measure of their existence. Love and the consequences which arise from love constitute the first end of conjugal union or, in other words, matrimony. Thus it has been established in all legislative codes, and particularly in the canonical, which is the purest fountain of all. Woman consequently works more under the impulse of fancy and sentiment than of reason...."
"Heavens! how much Isidorito knows about us poor women!" exclaimed the Señorita de Morí, in a tone between anger and jest.
The district attorney was somewhat crushed, but at length he went on with his remarks, without ceasing the pseudo-smile which afflicted his face.
"Love being, for the reason above given, the most powerful, not to say the only, motive of a woman's life, there is nothing wonderful in the supposition that a young lady like you may find herself agitated by this omnipotent feeling, and paying tribute to what constitutes an irrecusable law of life. You may now see how I was not out of the way when I affirmed that sometimes it is necessary for you to give your heart a tonic or—and this is the same thing—alleviate it of some too grievous impression."
"O my![45] what a bore!" said the Señorita de Morí in a whisper; but she replied aloud, "Why, you are absolutely mistaken, Isidorito; nothing grieves me or disturbs me at present!"
"Allow me to doubt it."
"You are welcome to doubt it; but I assure you that I have the best reason for knowing."
"Certainly, according to all logic, although you may declare the contrary, yet there is no possibility of sustaining such an opinion; not only reason and good sense oppose it, but from the most superficial observation of the facts it results, first, that love is a natural and constant sentiment in young ladies; second, that you have no reasons for escaping from it; and third, that the fact of sleeping little and uneasily makes the supposition that you are in love a very reasonable one."
The Señorita de Morí shrugged her shoulders, made a scornful grimace with her lips, and without deigning to reply, resumed her conversation with her friend Rosario.
Isidorito had triumphed over his opponent as usual; for always the woman with whom he was conversing was in his eyes his opponent, and he believed in the necessity of involving her in the meshes of his logic, and of getting her close in his grasp, until he subdued her like a rebellious rival in the law. Thus he expected to win the admiration and respect of the feminine sex. But the feminine sex (be it said to its dishonor) not only did not admire Isidorito for his belligerent logic, for his sedateness, and for his vast legal knowledge, but it looked upon him with marked disfavor, and avoided his conversation as though it were a disgusting clatter. The Señorita de Morí, with whom he had carried on the most pugnacious argument on the nature of love and friendship, the sweets of remembrance, the bitternesses of forgetfulness, sympathy, and all else relating to the heart, in which he always came out instantly victorious, had learned to hate him like death. Consequently our wise youth was really more than a hundred leagues from the lovely heiress's three thousand duros income, while he believed that he could touch them with his finger-tips. His never-failing sedateness, his self-possessed and serene eloquence, his long-tailed coats, his ideas of order, and his legal diction had aroused against him a prejudice as cruel as it was unjustified.
IN THE DE CIUDAD FALÚA.
"Maria, Julia, Consuelo, just see how lovely the water feels when you put your hand in!"
"How lovely! how lovely!"
"You'll wet your clothes, Amparo!"
"See what cunning white feathers the water makes between the fingers, Suárez!"
"Splendid!... but you'll wet the sleeve of your dress."
"Wait a moment.... I am going to tuck it up.... There, that's good.... Look! look!..."
"It still seems to me as though it would get wet.... Tuck it up a little more."
"More?"
"Yes."
"But I shall show my whole arm!"
"What difference does that make?"
"Be sensible; it isn't the time to give one a cold.... Now it seems to me all right.... Uf! how cold this water is!... It isn't noticeable on the hands, but on your arms! Look! Look how it jumps up!... If you put your palm flat against the current, it runs clear up your arm. Don't you see how beautiful and clear it is to-day?"
"Speaking frankly, I will tell you," whispered the engineer in Amparo's ear, "that at this moment my attention is attracted more by your fair arm!"
"If you don't hush, you rogue, I shall spatter the water in your face," replied the girl, threatening him with her chaste vengeance.
"Though you should throw me into the river, I should still say so.... I am an artist, above all things, as you well know.... There is nothing so beautiful as the human form, ... when it is beautiful; and that arm of yours stands comparison with the most perfect models of the sculptor's art."
"Come, come! don't be absurd!... My arm is like any one else's. The main thing is, that it is beginning to feel cold.... Whew! what water.[46] It seemed so warm at first!... And how it keeps on growing colder and colder, till at last it chills one to the bone!..."
"Take it out, take it out ... we must dry it!"
And Amparito obeyed, taking her arm out of the water, and innocently holding it towards the engineer, who began to wipe it with his handkerchief, lavishing upon it delicate attentions, and saying, at the same time:—
"But what a lovely arm you have, Amparito! How white! what soft skin! and how round it is, above all!... A woman's arm ought to be so, ... round and slender, like that of the Venus di Medici ... the arm ought to diminish gradually and symmetrically to the wrist.... The truth is, with such an arm you ought to be worthy of being a sculptor's model.... Well-formed women are scarce enough nowadays. To this is due the decay of sculpture, according to some critics.... If there were many like you, this certainly could not be said.... What an arm! what a lovely arm!... You can't imagine the pleasure I feel in touching it with my hand...."
The engineer, as he said this, suited the action to the word, and rubbed it so hard that Señor de Ciudad, who, with grim eyes, was watching the operation from the bow, could not help exclaiming, in an angry tone,—
"Amparo, please pull down your sleeve.... You most foolish girl!"
The girl blushed, and pulled down her sleeve. The engineer, not being able to evolve his artistic theories with his model in sight, renounced, for some time, the use of speech.
The falúas were now over against the Arenales. The sun had succeeded in making a few rifts in the veil of cloud, and was threatening, sooner or later, to rend it in pieces. The pencil of rays which penetrated through these rifts, and fell on the sand-hills, made them gleam like enormous flakes of gold, shedding their splendors over the whole breadth of the watery sheet; occasionally, when the sunbeams were cut off a moment by the interposition of some cloud, the splendors paled, and the sand assumed the grayish or gilded shades of webs of yellow silk. The voyagers all agreed that those sand wastes gave a very good idea of the deserts of Africa; and Don Mariano expressed his opinion that it would be very easy to control the sand by means of feather-grass and other suitable vegetation, and soon convert them into magnificent groves of pines.
The valley, which in the midst of the way opened out till it acquired considerable breadth, became narrower again as it neared El Moral. The waters became more restless, revealing the proximity of the sea; the hills, protecting the village with their stony slopes and their bare, melancholy tops, likewise made it evident. The breath of the monster began to be felt, blowing freshly and proudly through the narrow mouth of the river; and far away could be heard the low, portentous beating of his heart. The falúas now and then pitched upon patches of foam, which came rolling over the water, like tatters torn from the mantle of some god who had been battling all the night with the monsters of the ocean.
They reached El Moral. Don Mariano had prepared for them a delicious luncheon in a large ware-house, which he owned there, and the numerous company gave one more proof that the sea breezes are the most excellent stimulant for the appetite. When they had done good justice to it, and rested a little while, they re-embarked to continue their excursion. A short distance from El Moral was the mouth of the harbor from which they put out to sea, leaving on the starboard quarter the lighthouse tower set on a bluff. The sailors dropped their oars and hoisted the sails to take advantage of the fresh north-east wind which forced them ahead. It was eleven o'clock in the forenoon. The cloud veil had entirely vanished down the horizon, leaving in view a beautiful, diaphanous blue sky wherein the sun swam haughty and brilliant as never before. The sea stretched out before our voyagers' eyes like one enormous, measureless blue plain, shutting in on all sides the celestial vault to collect its light and its harmony. Above this azure plain the luminous disk of the sun made a wide path of shining silver peopled with tremulous, sparkling gleams and extending in a direct line towards the east. In each one of the crests which the breeze raised on the water the sunbeams left a fugitive, vivid light which, on mingling and joining with the rest in an incessant dance, seemed like the monstrous, fantastic ebullition of the treasures hidden in the depths of the ocean. The voyagers followed that silvery path with their gaze, and did not open their lips for a long time, enjoying the deeply fine and solemn impression which the sea always makes on the mind. The outlines of the island, dimmed and confused by the excess of light, stood out opposite the very mouth of the river, about five miles from the coast. Around it could be seen great flocculent shreds of foam which alternately grew and narrowed down again, girdling it with a white belt of lace-work. The wind blew strong, but with generous benignity, for it had plenty of room to exercise its powers. The three falúas, with sails spread, cut through the water, one behind the other, like so many sea-gulls chasing them. The cordage whistled, the masts creaked in the holes imprisoning them, and the sails bellied under the breath of the breeze which tipped the boats more than was relished by the ladies. The water, as it passed, broke into foam, making a musical murmur against the bow, and sliding along on both sides with a rustle like the unrolling of silk.
Don Serapio felt himself attacked by a maritime ecstasy, and, holding his hat in one hand and gesticulating dramatically with the other, he sang:—
| "How blessed that man who can number |
| His joys on the ocean; |
| For the billows rock him to slumber |
| With somnolent motion." |
The almost imperceptible voice of the proprietor of the canning-factory had the honor of joining in with the eternal concert of the seas, like one of so many noises of tumbling billows or rattling pebbles. The wind would not deign to carry it twenty yards away.
The falúas, as they glided out on the swelling breasts of the waves, mounted and fell with a gentle, lazy motion which at first was delightful to the passengers. They began to sway, softly closing their eyes with a smile of delicious content, surrendering themselves in full to the vague, poetic dreams awakened in their hearts by the sea. Who would have said, alas! that those who were dreaming so comfortably, and rejoicing in a smiling world of gentle fancies and gilded illusions, would be seen in a few minutes with heads sadly bent over the sea, necks leaning on the gunwale, as though it were a chopping-block, faces livid and eyes fixed upon the water, as though they were trying to sound the secret arcana of the ocean! Oh terrible fickleness of human affairs!
But what was taking place in the quarantine boat, that she should come about and leave her companions? An unforeseen contingency, and certainly one most annoying. Isidorito's breakfast had played him false. Hardly were they clear of El Moral when he began to be pale and silent, though no one noticed it; but at last the pallor increased to such a degree that he really looked like a corpse. Then it was suspected that he was seasick, and they advised him to put his fingers in his mouth; but the municipal attorney, very thoroughly acquainted with the tragedy at that moment enacting in his stomach, would not do any such thing, and begged humbly that, if it were possible, they should turn about and leave him on shore. All were stupefied at this proposition, and the falúa continued on her swift course, as though she had not heard. But, after a time, Isidorito propounded it in a still more energetic manner, and the sailors were obliged to reply that, though it was not impossible, still, to return to shore would cost them an hour's time. Another interval passed. Isidorito got up suddenly, with his face convulsed, and, extending his right hand toward the shore, he exclaimed with a voice of mighty anguish, "Turn around, turn around for God's sake, or I shall jump into the water!" Then the falúa, not wanting to be an accomplice in a suicide, veered around, dropped sail, and, putting out oars, began to make its way, as quick as possible, to the nearest point on the shore. There are reasons, however, for believing that the distinguished legal gentleman did not reach land in sufficient time. The Señorita de Morí felt sufficiently avenged for the many annoyances which his inflexible logic had occasioned her.
MEANTIME the ocean, indifferent to the laughter and the discomfort of those petty insects which skim over its burnished surface, reflected the fire of the sun over all its immensity, enjoying this lofty pleasure with the same calmness as in the first days of the world. The light could wander freely over its humid surface, running leagues upon leagues in a second, shooting its blazes to the furthest confines of the horizon, or gathering them in a splendid bundle. It could sport over the foamy crests of its waves, or timidly kiss the diaphanous mirror of the waters, or spatter it with fine silver powder, or fall in a swoon with languid, voluptuous tremors, losing themselves amid the folds of the billows: nothing could change the solemn peace of his heart or cause him to utter a note lower or a note higher in the grandiose air in basso profundo which he has sung since the beginning of the world.
The outlines of the island now stood out with clearness, black and burnt as though they had just emerged from a fire. As they came nearer, the white belt, which from a distance seemed to girdle it, broke into a thousand separate pieces, a considerable distance from one another. The formidable roar as of multitudes fighting, chains dragging, and rocks crashing, came from that direction, announcing to our voyagers that they were approaching their destination. At the end of an hour they succeeded, not without difficulty, in effecting a landing on its rockbound shore; then they had to climb up by a narrow, perilous footway hollowed out of the rock, before they reached the solid, level land. The island did not deserve this name.[47] It was an islet two or three kilometers long, belonging to Don Mariano Elorza, who made use of it only for occasional hunting excursions, and for collecting a few hundred gulls' eggs from it every year. It was covered here and there with pines, but for the most part it was clad in furze, where hares and rabbits had their warrens: on nearly all sides it presented perpendicular cliffs to the sea, which beat incessantly against it, furiously rushing in and out of the hollows in the rocks everywhere abounding. Don Mariano had built in the centre a small house as a hunting-box which, little by little, he had provided with many conveniences. It contained only a large parlor, a dining-room, a few bedrooms, and the kitchen; but it was quite well furnished, and was surrounded by a small garden where a few shade-trees reluctantly grew.
While the dinner was in preparation and they were waiting for the quarantine falúa, which had gone to deposit Isidorito like a melancholy exile on a barren coast, the ladies and gentlemen scattered about, devoting themselves to hunting and fishing, according to the tastes and dispositions of each. Shots began to be heard here and there, showing that the rabbits, which had multiplied in geometrical progression, suffered the law of repression discovered by Malthus. The voyagers who had not bloodthirsty instinct made themselves comfortable on the moss at the edge of the cliffs, contemplating the horizon from quarter to quarter, where the sail of some bark was often seen. Others studied the flora, plucking flowers and entering into long discussions about the cultivation which would suit that soil and the products which it might give. When everything was arranged, Don Mariano sent word by his servants, and one after the other the guests made their way back to the house and entered the parlor, where a splendid table had been improvised, loaded with viands and flowers. It took much labor and sufficient noise to seat so many people, but at last it was accomplished, thanks to the activity of the master of the house, greatly aided by the young man with the banged hair, whom we had the honor of meeting on the evening of the soirée, celebrated in honor of Doña Gertrudis.
The feast was worthy of Amphitryon. No gastronomic refinement was lacking; everything was wisely provided by an imagination familiar with culinary subjects and, as some one at the table was moved to say with truth, "life on a desert island was not so unhappy as it was pictured in Robinson Crusoe and other books." Each plate had before it five or six glasses which two servants were commissioned to keep filling successively with different kinds of wine according to the courses served. No one will be surprised, therefore, that after dinner was over there were enthusiastic toasts preceded by most eloquent speeches and accompanied by shouts, bravos, and congratulations of all sorts to the orator. Don Maximo cut them short by a few phrases, ill enough expressed but very touching, referring to the brevity of human life, to the vanity of pleasures, to the recompense which we shall have for our sorrows in another world, and other supernal subjects. The orator ended by shedding copious tears stirred by such funereal thoughts. Nevertheless, there were some who said in an undertone that Don Maximo's papalina was the least diverting that they had ever known. Then the engineer, Suárez, made a speech elegantly phrased and ornate, directed to emphasizing the importance enjoyed by woman in our civilization and the salutary changes which, thanks to her influence, had obtained in the manners of modern nations. He made a eulogy, as brilliant as it was finished, of her artistic abilities, declaring it to be much superior to man's. He likewise spoke of her physical perfections, enumerating them with great satisfaction, and he ended by toasting her unconditionally as the most beautiful and exquisite work of creation, as the eternal and sweet companion of man. The Señoritas de Ciudad clapped their hands. Thereupon Don Serapio got up and with rather unctious speech proposed in concrete terms that the brilliant assemblage who was hearkening to him should settle for good in the island, in order to populate it, and invited each one of those present to select as quickly as possible their partners. The fact that at the end of his invitation he tipped a mischievous and impudent wink at one of the maid-servants who was helping at table raised against him a tempest of hisses and interruptions. Not being able satisfactorily to explain his behavior, Don Serapio grew very angry and went out into the kitchen, where, after a short time, was heard a ringing box on his ears.
Next followed the toasts, growing constantly more fiery and tempestuous, so that nothing that was said could be heard. One of the most famous was Martita's. By the advice of Ricardo, who sat by her side, she had drunk three glasses of champagne and did not know what was going on. The poor girl, so reserved and silent by temperament, began to let her tongue have free course, directing very facetious sallies at all present, who received them with rejoicing and applause. When a lady said that she was a little tipsy, she grew very serious and declared that she was only rather happy, which was nothing very strange considering that she was young. This repartee caused great laughter among the picnickers. When she was speaking, she kept fanning herself with her handkerchief. Her eyes, ordinarily so steady and serene, had acquired a strange loveliness and a malicious brilliancy which attracted the attention of Suárez, the engineer. The very timbre of her voice had notably altered, making it deeper and firmer. For the time being, she seemed like a woman in all the plenitude of her powers.
When they were tired of talking nonsense, Don Mariano had the tables removed from the parlor, so that the young people might dance. A piano, which had reached a dignified old age in that cloistered retreat, was called upon to mark the time of a mazurka with its cracked voice. As was to be expected, the dance from the first instant lost all ceremony and was converted into a whirlwind of hops, screams, and laughter. Marta, who was dancing with Ricardo, quickly said,—
"I can't endure this heat! Don't you want to go out into the fresh air for a little?"
"Let us go; I, too, am almost suffocated."
When they were in the garden, she said to him,—
"If you will come with me, I will take you to a place which no one here knows anything about except papa and me; it is a beach hidden among the rocks; you don't see it until you are on it ... it is a lovely place."
"If I like! you know well enough the love I have for landscapes, and above all for seascapes! How do you get to it?"
"Follow me ... you shall see."
Marta started out toward a clump of pines situated not far from the house, and Ricardo followed her. The girl wore a marine blue dress with white lace trimmings, and she had on her head a straw hat with a wreath of red convolvulus.
"After we reach that grove, you are going to enjoy a surprise."
"Indeed?"
"Just wait and see!"
In fact, after they had reached the grove and had been walking some time in it, they came upon a grotto half covered up with trees and underbrush. Marta, without saying a word, entered it, and in two seconds disappeared from sight. Ricardo waited an instant in uncertainty and deep surprise; but a gay peal of laughter echoing from within startled him from his stupor.
"What does this mean? Don't you dare to come in, coward?"
"But, child, don't you see, you might get hurt!"
"Come in, come in, brave warrior!"
"Very well ... seeing that you have set the example."
When he joined Marta, he found that the grotto was quite large and had a sandy floor.
"Oh, I didn't suppose it was so large and comfortable!"
"Good; now follow me."
"Where?"
"How inquisitive you are!... You shall see, man, you shall see for yourself."
She entered further into the cave, which kept growing darker and darker, and Ricardo followed, not taking his eyes from her for fear she should fall or stumble upon some obstacle. After some little time the girl's silhouette vanished in the gloomy depths of the cavern, and Ricardo found himself in real darkness.
"Don't be worried; follow me, and nothing will happen to you. I will be talking all the time, so you can walk in the direction of my voice.... If you want me to give you my hand, I will.... No?... very well, but don't fall far behind.... In a very short time you will begin to descend, but it is a gentle slope.... Do you see?... Don't grumble against the footing.... Still, if one should fall, it would not do much harm.... We shall be in the light soon.... Be careful; turn to the right, for the path here makes a bend.... There, we have light at last!"
A luminous point was, in fact, visible below our young friend's feet a hundred yards distant. Marta's silhouette again emerged from the darkness and stood out against the niggardly light which entered through the aperture.
A long, dull murmur was audible in the cave, hinting at the proximity of the ocean. In a few moments they came out into the light.
Ricardo was in ecstasies over the sight which met his eyes. They stood facing the sea in the midst of a beach surrounded by very high, jagged crags. It seemed impossible to issue from it without getting wet by the waves, which came in majestic and sonorous, spreading out over its golden sands, festooning them with wreaths of foam. Our young people advanced toward the centre in silence, overcome with emotion, watching that mysterious retreat of the ocean, which seemed like a lovely hidden trysting-place where he came to tell his deepest secrets to the earth. The sky of the clearest azure reflected on the sandy floor which sloped toward the sea with a gentle incline; months and years often passed without the foot of man leaving its imprint upon it. The lofty, black, eroded walls, shutting in the beach with their semicircle, threw a melancholy silence upon it; only the cry of some sea-bird flitting from one crag to another, disturbed the eternal, mysterious monologue of the ocean.
Ricardo and Marta continued slowly drawing nearer the water, still under the spell of reverence and admiration. As they advanced, the sand grew smoother and smoother; the prints of their feet immediately filled with water. Coming still nearer, they noticed that the waves increased, and that their curling volutes at the moment of breaking would cover them up if they could get them in their power. They came in toward them solid, stately, imposing, as though they were certain to carry them off and bury them forever amid their folds; but five or six yards away they fell to the ground, expressing their disappointment with a tremendous, prolonged roar; the torrents of foam which issued from their destruction came spreading up and leaping on the sand to kiss their feet.
After considerable time of silent contemplation, Marta began to feel disturbed; she imagined that she noticed in them a constantly increasing desire to get hold of her, and that they expressed their longing with angry, desperate cries. She stepped back a little and seized Ricardo's hand, without confessing to him the foolish fear that had taken possession of her; she imagined that the sheet of foam sent up by the waves, instead of kissing her feet, was trying to bite them; that as it gathered itself up again with gigantic eagerness, it attracted her against her will, to carry her away no one knows whither.
"Doesn't it seem to you that we are going too close to the waves, Ricardo?"
"Do you think perhaps they'll come up as far as where you are?"
"I don't know ... but it seems to me as though we were sliding down insensibly ... and that they would get hold of us at last."
"Don't you be alarmed, preciosa," said he, throwing his arm around her shoulder and gently drawing her to him; "neither are the waves coming up to us, nor are we going down to them.... Are you afraid to die?"
"Oh, no, not now!" exclaimed the girl, in a voice scarcely audible, and pressing closer to her friend.
Ricardo did not hear this exclamation; he was attentively watching the passage of a steamboat which was passing down the horizon, belching forth its black column of smoke.