"My dear fellow, I don"t know."
"You see I have his formal promise that the government would support me with all the powers at its disposal. Had I not received this pledge, I should never have presented myself as candidate for a district where I was unknown."
"My dear lad, I don"t know ... I don"t know...."
"Castro," said Miguel, seizing him firmly by the hand, and looking at him with a severe directness, "you are my friend, and you must tell me the truth.... What is up?"
"You will understand perfectly well that my position does not allow me to speak frankly. If I could, I would."
"You are either my friend or you are not. Tell me what is going on,"
insisted Miguel, energetically.
"Very well then; if you will give me your word as a gentleman not to make any use of it, I will tell you."
"I promise."
"Take warning that it is putting a heavy obligation on yourself."
"I promise you. Speak!"
"We understand that you will not give the slightest hint that you know what I am going to reveal to you.... Having noticed for some time, and especially during the last few days, that the minister was weakening on your election, and knowing the friendship that unites you to the President and the conferences which you have had with him, I was anxious to get his advice, so as to know once and for all how I should look upon this matter. Yesterday I telegraphed to his secretary. Here is the answer that I received...."
The governor produced a telegram in cipher, which written out, was as follows:--
_Official Candidate--Don Miguel Rivera._
_Deputy--Don Manuel Corrales._
Miguel held it for some time in his hands; a melancholy, ironical smile hovered over his lips.
"Very well," said he, flinging it on the table. "One stone more which the world has cast at me."
"I feel it to the bottom of my heart, my boy. The President must have found too much pressure brought to bear upon him. Corrales, you see, is a man of great importance in the present situation!... To-morrow he may be minister.... And that is the way politics go, my boy.... To-day you, and to-morrow me."
"Yes, yes; I see how politics go. The President has given me his word of honor to support my candidacy against Corrales; he has got me to write a host of letters, and to use all sorts of influences; he has forced me to leave my wife and child. The President has done all this with the intention, so it seems, of selling me. I don"t know what this is called in politics, but in plain language I know that it is called _base_, _vile_!" (accenting the words). "Good by, my boy," he added, offering him his hand. "I shall always be grateful to you for what you have done for me, and the kindly reception which you gave me."
"Hold on," said the governor, as he was going out. "I forgot to tell you that I received a telegram for you that must be from your family."
Miguel was startled.
"What does it say?"
"It must be here; take it."
It was from his step-mother, and read:--
"Come home immediately. You are needed on most urgent business."
Up to a certain point its contents were tranquillizing, for if any one had been ill, it would have said so. But as the import of the message was open to doubt, anxious and sick at heart, he secured a place that very afternoon in the train for Madrid.
XXIII.
Don Alfonso Saavedra"s exquisite, overwhelming courtesy, his delicate attentions to every one, his respectful behavior toward ladies masked Satanic pride and boundless impudence. From an early age he had looked upon himself "as the hub of the universe," as the saying goes, and professed absolute scorn of humanity. Among rich young men, the sons of aristocratic families, this conduct is not uncommon. The only thing in which they bear a perpetual resemblance to each other is their scorn of everybody. The majority are not able to go beyond that, and full of zeal, they have no other ambition than to be able to show their fellows, whenever they can, this most n.o.ble disdain, which forms an integral part of their superiority. But so adorable is their frankness that sometimes it obliges them to put up with petty disappointments, and yet it happens that their scorn is not very well appreciated and understood; for among the many absurd whims from which humanity suffers stands that of not allowing itself to be scorned. There is no use in trying to explain this scorn by saying:--
"I owe ninety thousand duros; I am viscount, and hold my head high; I make portentous wagers at baccarat; one of my ancestors blacked King Felipe"s boots; I am as good a whip as the head coachman; and a few days ago another viscount and I "fleeced" a wise man at Vallehermoso; I wear such extraordinary pantaloons that pa.s.sers-by are obliged to turn round and look at me; and I am in love with a ballet-girl of the Real."
It is idle; humanity is determined not to recognize the importance and seriousness of the reasons wherein these distinguished young men take pleasure in despising it.
Don Alfonso, naturally more cautious and more experienced by his residence in foreign countries, understood that it was expedient to flatter this whim, but at heart he professed the same ideas. That precept of the Krausist philosophy very much in vogue at that time, "Regard humanity not as a means, but as an end," was for him a dead letter.
After the calamity of the Retiro, though his pride was wounded to the very quick, he was able to hide it completely; and if he no longer made his appearance at Miguel"s, it was not owing to his resentment, but lest Maximina, now on her guard, would take some violent measure that would compromise him.
She did not perfectly comprehend his character. When he accidentally met the young couple in the street, he was as polite and genial as ever, excusing his prolonged absence very gracefully by saying that an uncle had suddenly come to town, and he gave a lively and circ.u.mstantial description of the occurrence. Saavedra, without being talented or learned, had a peculiarly ludicrous turn of speech, and what he said was apt to be comical and mirth-provoking, though it was often repulsive.
When he "used the scalpel" on a friend, the impression that he left on his hearers was painful.
Maximina, on meeting him, turned crimson, and it cost her great effort to calm herself, but fortunately Miguel did not notice it.
The very day that he was going to Galicia, he met Saavedra again at the Ateneo,[57] where the dandy sometimes repaired to read the French periodicals. He told him about his journey, and said good by. Don Alfonso remained a long time seated on the sofa; a frown, constantly growing deeper, furrowed his forehead. Then suddenly he smoothed out the frown; his face regained its ordinary disdainful and indifferent expression, and he got up. There was some deep resolution under that brow; something that was far removed from Krause"s commandment, and still less from those of G.o.d"s law.
At his aunt"s house he learned that Julita was going to sleep with her sister-in-law, and spend with her all the time not occupied by her other duties, which consisted of piano and singing lessons. For nothing in the world would _la brigadiera_ permit her to relax her four hours of practising and going through the prescribed scales.
Don Alfonso spent four or five days in meditating, in playing espionage on Maximina, and in scheming; meantime he showed himself more than ever amiable and obsequious to his cousin; but he refused to accompany her to Miguel"s, offering various excuses.
Sat.u.r.days he always breakfasted at _la brigadiera"s_. On the first Sat.u.r.day after Miguel"s departure, Julita, though she usually took breakfast with Maximina, came home in honor of her cousin, and because it was no longer possible for her to hide the pa.s.sionate love which she felt for him. During breakfast time he was as jovial and amusing as ever; nevertheless, Julita"s loving eyes were able to detect in his gestures a peculiar excitement, as though his mind were preoccupied.
Naturally she attributed it to what most concerned her; to the love constantly growing more tender and ardent which her cousin manifested toward her. When they had finished, he asked her in a careless tone:--
"Is your piano teacher coming to-day?"
"Yes; at four."
"Then," said he, still more indifferently, if possible, "you will not return to Maximina"s until you have had your lesson, I suppose."
"Of course not ... there is no need of making the journey twice,"
replied _la brigadiera_.
They went to the sitting-room, and Julita sat down at the piano with Alfonso at her side. The charming girl struck an opportune _forte_ which drowned out the tender words which her cousin began whispering in her ear.
"Julita, your eyes shine so to-day, that if you wanted to set my heart on fire, you could do it this very instant."
"Pedal! pedal!" cried the girl, laughing; and she quenched the dandy"s last words with a deafening crash.
She again put on the soft pedal, and began gently to touch the piano.
Don Alfonso took advantage of the diminuendo to say:--