Part 18

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_."

XIX.

Now while Miguel was busy in this excitement and anxiety, through the fear of approaching ruin to his fortunes, another danger, a thousand times greater, was threatening him without his knowledge.

We have already seen what a strange liking for Maximina had been awakened in Don Alfonso Saavedra: it can be compared to nothing else than that of the wolf, of which the fable tells us, who, having in his power the whole flock of a rich man, went to devour the only lamb owned by a poor man.

As the Andalusian _caballero_ was not a man to be readily defeated, or else because he almost always found women easy to conquer, or because his ostentatious figure, his fortune, and his arrogance made him bold toward those who resisted him, he remained deeply disgusted because of the scene at the party, where he had played a part so supremely ridiculous in his own eyes. The absolute lack of coquetry which was noticeable in Rivera's wife, was what mortified him most of all, since he could not even invent the illusion that the indifference with which she had received his gallantries was more or less fictitious.

To say that after this rebuff his ardor greatly increased, would be doing little honor to the penetration of my readers: every one knows that disdain is far from being the best palliative for love, and that, in the majority of the mad passions that we see in the world, self-love comes in with a respectable contingent.

Saavedra did not lose his wits, nor did he even make any false show of appearing foolish, like Don Quixote in Sierra Morena; but as a man of sagacity, accomplished in adventures of this sort, he determined not to lose again his self-possession, and to "establish the blockade" of the place according to the rules which his experience had laid down.

Quickly reading through Maximina's character, he divined that in her case there would be no use for that amiability stuffed with arrogance, that politeness imbued with disdain, which he had employed in winning his cousin Julia's love. This serene, serious, and humble nature could not be attacked on the side of vanity: he must aim at her affections. He proposed, therefore, to win her little by little; not in the guise of a rejected lover, which he well knew would be to lose forever her esteem, but as a sincere, affectionate, and helpful friend. He tried with all his power to dispel the suspicions which the conversation at the party might have left in the young wife's mind. He quickly discovered that the excitement under which she was at that time laboring had prevented her from noticing his attempt to flirt with her; and he was enabled at his leisure to carry out the plan of the campaign which he had designed.

He began gradually to make more and more frequent calls at their house, skilfully overcoming the antipathy which Miguel had not the power to dissemble. To accomplish this, he allowed him to notice a certain change in his behavior, in harmony with those ideas of peace, order, and propriety, which are characteristic of family life; he had some confidential conversations with him, in which he announced himself as a man who loathed a corrupt life, and was weary of the snaring pleasures of the world; in order to flatter his literary and scientific tastes, he borrowed certain books of him; and, after reading them, talked about them long and enthusiastically, which secretly much amused Miguel. Then, more than ever, he understood and did not cease to marvel at the supine ignorance of so-called "society men." Don Alfonso had never in his life read much besides French novels, and sometimes he asked questions that would have astonished any schoolboy.

"He is one of our most distinguished savages," said Miguel to his wife, speaking of this new taste for books.

With Maximina our Audalusian entered into long conversations about his travels, laying special stress on the domestic customs of other countries.

"Just think," he said (he never addressed Maximina with the familiar '_tu_,' though he thus addressed Miguel), "in England they eat five times a day. In the morning they breakfast as they please; at nine or ten they have a meal of considerable formality; at one, another still more free and easy; at five or six they have dinner; and at bedtime also they have a bite of something."

Maximina, as a good housewife, was interested in these details, asked about the prices of provisions and of rents; and she was greatly surprised at the liberty given to the women in the way of going into the street alone, and even travelling.

"Come now, that is the great country for Maximina," said Miguel. "She is too modest to go alone to mass, and yet the church is only a step away."

The young wife smiled, in embarrassment.

"Well, now, yesterday I went with Juana to the Calle de Postas to buy some drawers."

"There you have a word that you could not speak in England before people."

"_Madre!_ and when you buy them, what do you call for?"

"They speak it to the clerk as a confessional secret," suggested Miguel.

"Don't you believe him," replied Saavedra, laughing. "For those ladies' clerks in shops are not 'people.'"

Meanwhile, he was trying to get her interested in his own private affairs, asking her advice, and often following it.

"The truth is, that in respect of good advice I do not miss my mother. You take her place divinely, Maximina. I announce myself your adopted son, though I am old enough to be your father."

"But you are not as obedient as I should like."

"Only in one point, as you well know. In all the rest I obey blindly."

The point was marriage. Maximina did not cease to urge him to get married.

"Hitherto I have never found a woman who would satisfy me for a wife," he replied.

"Why don't you marry Julia?" she asked one day at random, with the ingenuous frankness characteristic of her.

Don Alfonso was a trifle confused.

"Julia is a good girl.... Very well educated ... she is talented ... she is pretty.... But see here! confidentially, do you think that I should be happy with Julia?"

"Why not?" demanded the young wife.

Saavedra kept silent a few minutes, remaining apparently lost in thought; then he said:--

"You will readily understand that as you are her sister-in-law, and I am her cousin, neither of us can with delicacy speak about her except in terms of praise, which she certainly deserves in many regards. But with you I have the courage to say one thing, and that is that we are not congenial. We are two...."

And Don Alfonso put his two index fingers end to end.

"Why, I supposed that you were fond of each other!"

"Yes, we are fond of each other, but ... between this and marriage there is a considerable distance.... I remind you that I have just spoken as though you were my mother. Don't say anything of this to Miguel. He is her brother, and the most insignificant thing might trouble him."

In this insidious manner the serpent tried to make his way into this paradise. And he succeeded at last. As he had wisdom enough not to take advantage of it, he soon acquired a certain familiarity in visiting at their house, but always at the time when Miguel was at home; he knew perfectly well that the least shadow of suspicion passing through his mind would be sufficient to put an end to everything--God only knew how!

He also seized upon the occasions when _la brigadiera_ and Julia were going to call on the young couple to accompany them. The jealousy which the Brigadier's daughter had felt on the night of the party had completely vanished when she saw the brotherly familiarity with which he treated her sister-in-law, and the pains which the latter took to bring her and her cousin together, and see them talk by themselves.

"It was through you that I got married; I have made up my mind to make a match for you," said Maximina.

"Yes, but through me you married the man whom you loved," replied Julia, with a laugh.

"You love Alfonso also; don't try to deny it, Julita!" replied Maximina, kissing her.

On the other hand, Saavedra, instead of breaking the link of love which united him to his cousin, had drawn it tighter of late, perhaps so as to avoid all suspicion of his plan, or, possibly, because he had another string to his bow, and wanted to manage them both at once; for anything might be expected from his depraved character.

But already several months had passed, and his dastardly undertaking had not made any progress at all.