Chapter XVIII

"You aren't vexed with me, Maximina, are you? The idea of leaving you alone all day!" he said, as he came to his wife's bed.

"Pshaw! If you did so, it must have been for some good reason," replied she, kissing the hand which was smoothing her cheek.

On the next day they received a call from Aunt Martina and her daughter Serafina. The worthy lady had grown visibly more feeble. 'Such a life she led with her husband! Don Bernardo kept growing more and more crazy with his foolish jealousies!' As she told what went on at home, she wept aloud.

"After forty years of married life, how could I possibly be unfaithful to your uncle, Miguel? Don't you think that I have proved that I am virtuous? And if I had to fall, moreover, it would not be with a _carcamal_[41] who smells of drugs for a mile! Isn't that so? You understand!..."

Miguel nodded assent, with difficulty repressing a smile, for it was as good as a play to find his aunt imagining that any young man would flirt with her.

"I am an honest woman.... Serafina, don't come in here; take the baby into the dining-room," she said, interrupting herself on seeing her daughter come into the bedroom with the sweet little thing in her arms.

"I have been all my life long. Never even in thought have I been untrue to my husband. In return for this, he puts me to shame before the servants, treating me little less than if I were a public woman. I cannot longer endure this martyrdom, Miguel. I am dying, dying daily. The other day he made a perfect scandal because he found the end of a cigar in my room. As neither Vicente nor Carlos smoke, he took it for granted that Hojeda had been there; he even went so far as to insist that it was a cigar such as the apothecary smokes, although he always smokes cigarettes! It made me faint away; they had to call the doctor. Finally, in the night, a little fifteen-year-old servant boy whom we have, seeing the serious trouble there was in the house, confessed to the maid that it was he who had left the cigar-end there, and he went to tell your Uncle Bernardo. Then, though he instantly dismissed him, he did not remain calm. The servants don't stay with us more than a fortnight; he imagines that they are all the apothecary's pimps.... Day before yesterday the newsboy came along and handed me the paper as I happened to be walking along the corridor. My husband sees it, takes it into his head that this too is an emissary, and dashes out of the window. Simply because Hojeda passed by a little while before! I can't tell all that goes on; it is madness, a catastrophe! If it were not for Vicente, I would blow my brains out with a revolver.... I cannot go out without having my daughter with me, and then leaving on a piece of paper where I am going.... He has ordered all the mattresses in the house to be ripped open, so as to find some of the letters which he says that I have hidden.... Finally,--but do you want to hear more? He has sent and had an iron grating put in the fireplace, for he has an idea that Hojeda comes in that way...."

"_Ave Maria!_ How crazy poor uncle must be!" exclaimed Miguel.

"Don't you believe it; he speaks as reasonably as you or I, and his memory is as good as ever."

"Aunt, phrenopathy is not your strong point. Madmen have made progress like every one else in this world. Nowadays, they discuss and talk like all the rest of us. To distinguish an insane person from one in his senses you must depend upon a specialist; consequently, you must not meddle in things that you don't understand; however, my uncle is certainly showing symptoms that seem very suspicious, even to the ordinary intelligence."

"Sane or insane, I want to separate from him, for my life is a hell. But when once this subject came up, he became frantic, declaring that I wanted a divorce so as to marry my lover, and that he would empty his six-shooter into me if I did any such thing...."

"Poor aunt!" said Maximina, with tears in her eyes.

"How does my life seem to you?... But it is not this alone. I have still another cause for tribulation. Eulalia's little maid is almost blind!"

"What of?" asked the young mother.

"What do you suppose, child? Of her eyes, of course!"

"No; I meant of what disease!"

"Ah! I don't know what name the doctor gives it. Then, besides, Encarnacion the maid, who you must know has been my hands and feet, got married last Monday. You can't imagine the state of the house since she left us! It is a republic, children! I can't be in half a dozen places at once. For a dozen years I have depended wholly on her.... She had the keys to the linen closet; she kept account of the washing; she took out the chocolate and the _garbanzos_[42]; she looked out for the wine-closet when the wines were getting low; she ironed Carlos' and Enrique's shirts (for Vicente sends his out to be done up). Finally, I hardly had to trouble myself about what the servants got to eat, she had them so under her control.... Now, whom can I put into the house? Whom could I put in her place, the service being so turned topsy-turvy? Thursday the lackey came to me saying that Modesta was not willing to mend the sleeve of his livery-coat, which he had torn...."

"And Enrique? How about him?" asked Miguel, fearing that his aunt, in talking about the servants, would never finish, as was her custom.

"That is another thing! Bent on marrying the _chula_! There is no way of getting it out of his head. His father will not hear his name mentioned, and has already declared that, if he continues his relationship with her, he will send him out of the house. Vicente and Eulalia are also just as set against him. The one who 'pays for all the broken glass in the house' is myself, because I sympathize with him; don't you see?"

"Yes; Enrique has always been your favorite!"

"The whole family have always declared this to be the case, but it is not true; as you see, he is the least favored.... On the other hand, he treats me worse than a shoe!"

The entrance of Serafina with the baby again interrupted the conversation; behind her came all the maids, evincing a lively excitement:

"What is the matter?"

"Why! the baby smiled!" said Serafina.

"Smiled! He smiled, as sure as there is a God in heaven, senorita," said one of the maids, adding her testimony.

"Go along with you! you are all crazy!" said Dona Martina. "Why, he is only two days old!"

"It cannot be," insisted Maximina, although she flushed with joy at the thought.

"But he did; he did!" exclaimed all the servants.

"This is the way it happened, senorita," said one maid, scarcely able to get her breath. "The Senorita Serafina was this way with the baby; do you see? And I looked and took hold of him by the shoulder, do you see? and lifted him up, and began to move him up and down, and to say: 'Little chicken![43] rosebud! pink! do you want to be called Miguelito, like your papa?' The baby didn't do anything. 'Do you want to be called Enriquito like your uncle?' He didn't do anything this time either. 'Do you want to be called Serafin after your aunt?' And then he opened his eyes just a wee bit, and made up a little mouth with his lips. Oh, so cunning!"

Maximina smiled as though she had been listening to a revelation from heaven. She, and her aunt also, were instantly convinced, but Miguel still doubted.

"When it comes to the smiling of infants not more than fifty-seven hours old," said Miguel, "I must confess to an unyielding scepticism. I am like Saint Thomas: seeing is believing."

"But he _did_ smile, Miguel. Don't you have any doubt of it; I assure you he did, ..." said Serafina.

"You do not offer me sufficient guarantees of impartiality."

"Very good! then he is going to do it again; now you shall see for yourself."

Serafina took the child and lifted him above her head, with great decision, at the same time asking him if he wanted to be called Serafin; to which question the child did not find it expedient to reply, perhaps from an excess of diplomacy, because it would not have been strange if the name had seemed absurd to him.

Maximina, meantime, hung on his lips as though the child were passing through a college examination.

"You try it, Placida," said she, trying to hide her affliction.

Placida stepped out of the group like one of the "artists" of Price's circus, coming forth to perform his great feat. She lifted the child with surprising skill, swung him from north to south, then from east to west, and with impetuous voice put the sacred questions: "Little chicken, sweetie! rosebud! pink! do you want to be called Miguelito, like your papa? Do you want to be called Enriquito like your uncle? Do you want to be called Serafin after your aunt?"

A lugubrious silence followed these words. All eyes were fastened on the young candidate, who, instead of showing a liking for any of the names proposed, made it very clear, though in an inarticulate way, that he could see no reason why, for a mere question of names, these hypochondriacs should bother him so much.

"Do you see?" said Miguel.

"The reason is, he isn't in humor for laughing," protested Maximina, very much dissatisfied. "_You_ won't laugh either when you are told to! Besides, he must be hungry by this time. Give him to me! Give him to me! Joy of my life! Sweetheart mine!"

And the child-mother snuggled her little son under the sheets, and put him to her breast.

On the third day baptism took place. With the melancholy resignation usually manifested by mothers in such circumstances, Maximina let them carry her baby away.

"He is a Christian already, senorita," said the maid, taking possession of him.

The young mother kissed him fondly, and pressed him to her heart, saying, in a whisper, "Thou shan't be taken from me again, child of my bosom!"

On the fifth day she was sitting up. In a week she was about the house; in a fortnight she was out of doors as usual. Enrique and Julita were the child's god-parents, and he was named after the former.

The pleasure which Miguel found in all these things was embittered by the serious danger threatening his fortune. All the time this thought haunted him to such a degree that it was a great effort for him to seem happy in his wife's presence.

He wrote to the general, but he replied in such an ambiguous and suspicious manner that it left no room for doubt that in this quarter no help was to be expected. From that time he deliberately made up his mind that his salvation depended on his election to Congress, in gaining influence in the majority and with the ministers, and in making the best of it at a given moment by getting from the reserve funds the money which he had compromised.

But Eguiburu had already made him three or four more calls, and was pressing him to guarantee the rest of the money; finally, after many circumlocutions and periphrases, he began to threaten him with a legal summons. Then he saw that it was necessary to risk the whole for the whole. If he did not take the additional guarantee his ruin was sure; Eguiburu would sell his houses by auction, and though some money would remain, as they were worth more than the amount of the debt, it would not be very much. On the other hand, it would bring about a scandal; everybody would look upon him as a ruined man, if not a swindler, and would turn their backs on him; he knew the world well enough to see that clearly. He would have to give up all thoughts of his election: poverty hath everywhere an evil savor.

He finally decided to endorse the I. O. U. of the twelve thousand duros, and he made an appointment with his creditor for the business. With emotion natural to one who is going to burn his ships, he presented himself one afternoon at Eguiburu's house. He was in his office talking with two individuals. Miguel wanted to wait until these had gone before he introduced his business; but the money lender immediately began to speak aloud, and as he noticed that the young man kept giving anxious glances at the intruders, and showed some reserve in replying, he said:--

"You can talk with perfect freedom; these gentlemen are friends, and our affairs are nothing to them."

Miguel immediately perceived what this meant.

"This miserable wretch is afraid that I shall try to get out of it by declaring my name a forgery, and has brought a couple of witnesses."

With this thought his pride revolted; he could have wished that he were not burdened with a family, so as to fling the thirty thousand duros through the window, at the same time slap this vile wretch in the face. He with difficulty restrained himself, and began to discuss the business with the fierce money lender, whose voice kept growing louder and louder as he brought to light all that had gone before. Miguel answered his questions curtly. Finally, when he had satisfied him on them, and was about to sign his name to the I. O. U., the money lender said:--

"Here a difficulty arises, friend Rivera. It is a painful matter for me to mention to you because it will be a hard thing for you; but there is no other way out of it. Above and beyond the 246,000 reals which I have furnished for the support of the paper, I have also accommodated now the general, now Senor Mendoza, now the business manager of the daily, with some considerable funds amounting to 111,000 reals.... Here are the receipts. In them it is stipulated that these various sums were intended for the aid of the _emigrados_, though really they were for the intrigues of the revolutionists.... As you will easily understand, I do not intend to lose this money...."

"And you expect me to pay that also, do you?"

"I might exact it of the general and Senor Mendoza, who have signed the receipts; but it would cost me the trouble of lawsuits...."

"Yes, yes, it would be better for me to guarantee also these five thousand duros," said Miguel, in a sarcastic tone, "and thus free you and them from a little trouble."

"Senor de Rivera, I feel that I am causing you a great deal of annoyance...."

"Nonsense! you feel nothing of the sort; when one has a man by the throat he ought to squeeze him.... Let me see! where is the I. O. U.? Put on the other too."

Eguiburu, flushed with triumph, spread out a paper, and Rivera endorsed it with a nervous hand. His face was changed, and his voice sounded strange; but he preserved a serious and cool mien.

"Have you not added the item of the additional 111,000 reals?" asked Miguel, dryly.

"I am going to immediately," replied the banker, without being able to hide a certain confusion, which showed that he had not yet entirely lost his shame.

When he had filled it out, Miguel endorsed it, flung down his pen with a haughty gesture, and bade him farewell, bending his head.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen."

He left the room without shaking hands with any one.

His cheeks were on fire when he found himself in the street. The first thing that he did was to go to the editorial rooms of _La Independencia_, and announce to the editors and employes that the paper was to cease publication. He wrote a valedictory article, and left affairs half settled. On the days that followed everything was completely cleared up.

_La Independencia_ being dead, his mind was more at ease, and he could devote himself entirely to "work for his election." On this he placed all his hope; if he entered Congress, he felt that he should soon become known among the majority; he was a ready speaker; he was accustomed to debate; finally, he was gifted with better judgment than most of those who at this time represented the country. Consequently, he devoted himself with ardor to asking recommendations, not only at first, but even at second, third, and fourth hand; he wrote numerous letters, and made various calls. Nevertheless, he was careful not to call upon the President very soon; he had sufficient cunning or tact to understand that he ought not to show too much eagerness, lest he should be despised; the best way was to work for himself first, and then remind the minister of his word.

Mendoza did not approve of the death of _La Independencia_.

"That was a bad move, Miguel; it may cost you dear," said he, with a gesture of disgust.

"What would you have," replied Miguel impetuously, "that I should meet out of my pocket all the expenses, besides carrying the bond that I have given?"

"Even though you had made a sacrifice, it would have been wise if you had kept up the daily at least till after the election."

Miguel tried still to maintain the opposite; but at bottom he saw instantly that his friend was right, and that he had acted rashly.

A month or more having passed since his first visit to the President, he determined to make a second. He went at the time at which he was usually in his office. The usher informed him that his excellency was very much engaged in talking with a committee of Catalanian deputies, and had given orders that absolutely no one should be permitted to enter.

"I must speak with him; he himself invited me to come here."

The door-keeper looked at him with that indifferent and weary expression, really at bottom full of scorn, peculiar to those who constantly listen to the same things, and know that they are telling lies.

"If you wish to wait, you can sit down." Which was equivalent to saying: "What a double fool you are, friend! Do you suppose that I care to hear absurdities?"

Miguel flushed, and went and sat down on a sofa in the anteroom, where there were six or seven other persons waiting.

In a short time a gentleman in an overcoat came in very pompously; the door-keeper made a reverent bow before him, and opened the screen of the presidential chamber. It was evident that the order "to let absolutely no one in" was the door-keeper's manufacture.

Miguel jumped up angrily, and said, opening his card-case:--

"Have the goodness to take this card to the President."

"I cannot, _caballero_; I have orders...."

"I insist upon it that you carry this card to the President," he repeated in a louder voice, and with an energetic accent that had some effect upon the usher, who finally took it, though still grumbling, and entered the room.

"You will please wait an instant, _caballero_," said the man, coming out.

He waited an hour and a half; but he stayed, bent upon speaking with the chief of government, and neither the usher's insulting glances nor his own impatience, which was great, sufficed to make him give up his design.

At last the screen was opened, and out came a group of deputies, and among them the President with his hat on, and every appearance of being about to leave the building.

"Ah! Senor Rivera," he said, as he caught sight of him. "Excuse me ... I have so many things on my mind ... would you like to go back with me to the office."

"It is not worth while," said Miguel, taking the hint that this would be a bore to the grandee. The President took him familiarly by the lappet of his coat, and drew him to the bay-window.

"You have come to speak with me about the district, eh? How are things going with you?"

"Pretty well, I think. So far I believe that I have no opponent."

"I was going to speak of that very thing. I was thinking of writing you to come here. I am very glad that you have anticipated me. Yesterday I was told that there was an effort making to put in Corrales for that district."

"Who? The ex-minister of the moderate wing?"

"The same. I do not believe that he has any showing there, nor that the government needs to exert great pressure to defeat him, but it is well to be on the safe side. For nothing in the world would I have the most genuine representative and one of the most redoubtable advocates of moderatism, manage to make his unwelcome way into our house. For the district of Serin _is_ our house, since it has elected Rios, who was an important factor in the revolution. Have you been doing much work?"

"A good deal."

"Very well! then one of these days suppose you bring to me all the data which you have collected, the names of the _alcaldes_[44] who are opposed to us, and those of the people whom the government can influence. Meantime, don't give up for a moment. Get hold of the friends who gave the general his election; but don't put much reliance on promises; try to keep them attached to you in some way, either by offers or threats. Let us leave it that you will bring me the data, shan't we? _Adios_, Rivera. Don't forget the road to this house."

He took his leave with a cordial pressure of the hand. Miguel, just as before, felt perfectly satisfied. The chief of government had a special tact for making his discourtesies forgiven, a frank and affectionate manner which immediately captivated whoever came near him.

A fortnight passed before he saw him again; for the two times that he went there, he was told that his excellency could not receive him as he was busy with the sub-secretary.

"_Hola!_ Rivera, I know that you have been here twice already; I felt it to the bottom of my heart that I could not see you. At all events, the matter has not been in a pressing hurry hitherto. Let us see! Sit down. How do you find the district? Has Corrales been giving you much to do?"

"Not much up to the present time."

"Indeed!" said the President, surprised. "Well, then; what I have heard is a very different story. I have been told that he is moving in a prodigious way: that the clergy are working for him decidedly, and that some of our friends, whom apparently Rios has not been able or has not cared to serve, have gone over to him bag and baggage.... But it is possible that you are better informed."

"Senor Presidente, the letters that I have received from there say nothing of all this; on the other hand, all the general's friends assure me that, as he is agreeable to my candidacy and as it is supported by the government, it is impossible for a moment to doubt of our triumph."

"In spite of all that, it is proper that you should go there in person, talk with them, and watch the election. Those of us who have spent a few years in public life know that there is nothing certain."

"That is very good. When do you think that I ought to go there?"

"The sooner the better; but before you go, come here, so that I may give you some letters. You do not need one to the governor, for he has known for some time that you are the official candidate. Besides, I believe that you are acquainted...."

"Yes, sir; I knew him when he was editor of _La Iberia_."