✈️ Al primer vuelo 🦅 – Un relato de superación y aventura

✈️ Al primer vuelo 🦅 – Un relato de superación y aventura

In ‘On First Flight,’ José María de Pereda transports us to a world full of feelings and reflections on life and love. The story introduces us to a young man who, through his experiences, experiences growth and the internal struggle to find his own path. With a profound and nuanced narrative style, the author invites us to accompany his protagonist during a crucial stage of his life. Chapter 1. Background. “There is no escape. Give me pure air, and I will give you rich blood; give me rich blood, and I will give you well-balanced humors ; give me well-balanced humors, and I will give you bronze health; give me, finally, bronze health, and I will give you an honorable spirit, noble thoughts, and exemplary customs. _In a healthy body, a healthy mind_. It is a given… always, and of course, except for the higher designs of God.” Word for word, this was the topic of many, many perorations, almost speeches, by the youngest of the Bermúdez Peleches brothers, from the Peleches estate in the municipality of Villavieja. He was interested in this subject, as his brothers had been in other subjects; just as his father had the mania for giving his children grand names, “just in case something stuck.” He had three sons and one daughter. The sons were named Hector, Aquiles , and Alejandro, and the daughter Lucrecia. But the good man didn’t have a very elegant story to speak of. Hector, puny and faint-hearted, never had an hour of rest or a minute without a complaint. Aquiles, not much more splendid than Hector, emerged as a mystic as soon as he came of age, and a few years later, embarked on an ecclesiastical career. Lucrecia, physically made of better clay than her two older brothers , said yes to the first advance of an Indian from Villavieja, one of those who _leave_ as soon as they arrive; and with such determination and such stubborn tenacity that, despite the young Indian being a mere young man of little means, abject lineage, and paltry fortune, even in spite of the whims and anger of Bermúdez Sr., Bermúdez Jr. allowed herself to be stolen away by the suitor, married him a few days later, and later followed him across those heavenly seas, eager to see the world and determined to encourage her husband in the honorable task of “finishing off” in the same Mechoacán tavern where, thirteen months earlier, he had deposited the seeds of a dreamed-of riches. Alexander, our Bermudez, had as much in common with his namesake, the Macedonian, as his brothers Hector and Achilles had in common with the two famous heroes of The Iliad; although, in all honesty and with great care , he did derive something, if not from the illustrious conqueror, from his father, for he was once one-eyed like the great Philip. Otherwise, he was the strongest male in the house, and the healthiest and most spirited. He chose a career in law, and his father sent him to the university, while Achilles studied theology at the seminary. It was known, from what the Mexican’s family spread, that Lucrecia was in Mechoacán, growing fatter and fatter, with the joy of seeing her husband’s fortune increase hour by hour . Hector, a miserable wretch, remained in Peleches in the care of his father. Who, bearing this cross of his many years, and the increasingly unbearable martyrdom of his daughter’s prevarication, died very early. With this death, as with the death of his ivy, the wavering wall, Hector’s life , unbearable on its own, was on the verge of ending. The seminarian, weak by nature and exhausted by fasting and maceration, came to his side ; and alone, sad and sorrowful, the two of them in the Peleches mansion, they died within a few months, one after the other, after making a joint will in favor of Alejandro. Not out of hatred for Lucretia, God knows, but to accumulate the family’s free wealth in the sole charge of perpetuating the illustrious family name, and in the conviction that the daughter was prosperous, had only one son, and could do very well without the legitimate inheritances of her two brothers. The fact was that Alexander found himself the owner and master of three-quarters of his parents’ assets, which, although they were not something out of the ordinary, gathered in a single pile, they would have been a great resource for a hardworking man like himself, by instinct, and who had already learned, from the lips of one of his teachers, an anemic man given to something more than a little debauchery, that of _mens sana…_ by virtue of the miracles of the pure, flowing, and free air, which, by the way, had not made them very notable in the Bermúdez family of the Peleches estate, as Alejandro himself could attest. Not being too tempted by the tomes of his career, he resolved to leave it where he had it when the sad events at Peleches forced him to move to his ancestral home; But since he had left a certain matter there, in the process of being settled, that had nothing to do with his inherited estate or his university endeavors, he entrusted his native mansion and all his belongings, both movable and immovable, to the care of a trusted individual. Without paying much, at the time, for the free and salutary airs of his homeland, although with the reservation that he would return to replenish them as soon as he needed to, he returned to the city of Seville. The matter that so strongly sought his attention there was a wealthy and not unsightly orphan girl, although somewhat handicapped in one hip, whom he married a year later. With both funds together and his excellent trading instincts, he embarked on businesses that brought him a good profit and drew him ever closer to his wife’s land. Eight months after she had made him the successful father of a beautiful daughter, who was baptized as Nieves, she died. Around that time, Alejandro Bermúdez Peleches lost his left eye; and, according to accounts from people well informed, he lost it as a result of an inflammation that came on from so much crying… and from so much rubbing of it, while crying, with a hand poorly purified from a certain caustic concoction he had prepared for one of the many wine rinses he made in his cellar. Although after recovering from the pains of the two losses, in the same chronological order as those of his wife and the eye, he found himself young, robust, and wealthy, he didn’t feel the slightest temptation to remarry, among other reasons, for the very noble and honorable reason of not giving a stepmother to his daughter, who was being raised like a roll of butter in the care of a judicious and mature housekeeper, after her wet nurse had left his care. But, on the other hand, seeing that there were no rational reasons for anything else, he eagerly began a frequent correspondence with his sister, who tempted him to do so from Mexico City, where her husband had moved the scope of his mercantile operations, which, due to their vastness and lucrativeness, no longer fit into the small shop in Mechoacán. Lucrecia, according to her letters to Alejandro, didn’t resent him for her older brothers’ testamentary dispositions . She considered it natural: he had upset them all with a prank that by chance had gone well. She knew him at last, and was pleased to confess it. Besides, she had money to spare, riches to spare for the two of them and a single son they had, with no hope of having another, because more than six years had passed without any sign of him, and his own continued to grow fatter and fatter. The air, the beans, the mamey, the enchiladas, the quitil… even the pulque she ate for breakfast many days to satisfy her hunger, everything there fell into her mouth as if it were made of its own accord, and whetted her appetite, turning into substance as soon as it was swallowed. She deplored her obesity only for how much it bothered her with her housework, since she had a wheelchair to walk around the streets. She never went out on foot. Her husband was a good man who went out of his way to please and esteem her as she grew fatter and richer, and neither he nor she thought of returning to Villavieja until they could be the richest people in the entire province there. and this, not out of vanity, but out of the honest desire that many fools who had held him in low regard in the town for being the son of who he was and for fitting all his wealth in his suitcase, would be seen as reverent in front of her husband. The way things were going, the two of them wouldn’t grow old without seeing their resolutions fulfilled. Meanwhile, they lived well, associated with distinguished and honorable people, and the boy Ignacio, Nacho, Nachito, was growing up. Nachito! He was a blessing from God for his handsomeness, his wit, his grace… What a creature, Virgin of Guadalupe! Fat Lucrecia told all these things to one-eyed Alejandro in a language barbarously diluted in a half-guachinanga, half-Tlascaltecan tincture, a clear sign that the Bermúdez Peleches woman was already speaking Mexican the way the mountain thugs speak Andalusian. “She must be a total tarantula,” her brother thought, smiling every time he finished reading one of these letters. “But she’s as good as a clam, and as manly as they come.” Then he answered her at length and in detail about his way of life, his hopes and plans; Lucrecia’s plans and hopes; sound advice and sensible observations about premature obesity in its relationship to lifestyle, quality and quantity of food… Nacho. He always dedicated a long paragraph to this precocious child. Nacho would grow up, Nacho would have to study, Nacho would be a boy, Nacho would be a man; and woe betide him! If, while he traveled this long and rugged path, no one took care to educate him properly so that his spirit wouldn’t be corrupted within a poorly oxygenated body. “There’s no escape, Lucrecia. Give me pure air, and I’ll give you rich blood; give me rich blood, and I’ll give you well-balanced humors; give me…” And so on, the whole litany the reader already knows. Then, at the end of the letter, he spoke of his daughter, his Nieves. How beautiful she was, how she grew from hour to hour, how restless she was, and how charming she was, above her large blue eyes, with that frown at every sudden impression she received, both of displeasure and pleasure! Her hair was blond as old gold, and the hue of her flesh that of the purest mother-of-pearl, with rose-colored glazes on her cheeks, on her moist lips, and in her nostrils, which were a joy to behold. Something would come, something very singular, from that miniature woman. He had already formed his plans, his calculations for the future. Among those calculations, the venerable estate of Peleches, with its vast horizons and its salutary air, was a significant part of it… but in due time, on its proper day… There was no need to confuse things, no need to rush events. Everything would come about in their measured steps, and everything would be all right with God’s help and his good intentions. He had only returned to Peleches once, and very quickly, since the death of his brothers, because it was very far away, and his business dealings and caring for the girl tied him to Seville day and night; but that didn’t mean he lost sight of him. At any given hour, he would take a trip there, or as many as were necessary to better achieve his cherished plans. In the meantime, everything was in good hands, for his peace of mind and the prestige of his noble parents. With this constant talking, Alejandro about his Nieves and Lucrecia about her Nachito, a real bidding war of praise for their respective offspring arose between the two siblings ; and Lucrecia, piqued by her passion as the mother of the most beautiful boy in the world, sent her brother a portrait of the prodigy, dressed as a rancher, with his striped jorongo, his wide calzoneras, and his jarano hat. The poor wretch couldn’t be seen beneath the enormous wings and the weight of the folds! “Would that be me?” Alejandro said to himself; and he painted Nieves dressed as an Andalusian woman with a shawl with large fringes and roses in her hair. The beautiful creature came out looking pitiful ; but her father saw it very differently and sent the portrait to Lucrecia, who, having resented the objections her brother dared to raise about Nacho’s picturesque dress, went to great lengths to spare her niece’s outfit. Then they both agreed that the children should be painted “au naturel.” Thus, and immediately afterward, the portraits of fat Lucrecia and one-eyed Alejandro exchanged. Incidentally, there was a very singular coincidence in the two letters, conveying the respective cards, that crossed each other across the ocean. Each of them contained a postscript with this question: “And you, why don’t you send me your portrait?” Questions that received corresponding answers at the time. Lucrecia’s was in these terms: “So as not to frighten you.” And Alejandro’s in these others: “Because, given the setback you know about, you wouldn’t have recognized me.” These answers also appeared in a postscript. The body of the letters dealt only with the impressions received by each signatory upon contemplating the portrait, “a natural,” of the other’s son. It was very notable that each father exaggerated his assessment of his respective nephew, and neither of them lied, because it is the pure truth that Nacho and Nieves were made for each other, and, as Lucrecia told her brother, “as if born for each other, despite my Nachito being four years older than your Nieves.” Well, the saying had a long tail, and a long tail; because it planted in Alejandro’s mind an idea that had never crossed his mind before. Nieves was then six years old; Nacho, ten, roughly; when she was twenty, he would be twenty-four. Perfectly shaped. Nieves was very pretty, and would become an arrogant young woman; Nacho was truly handsome, and promised to be a gallant young man. Perfectly shaped. Nieves was rich; her cousin, as much or more than she was; The two were branches, on the one hand, of the same illustrious trunk; and on the other, they were also close behind, because if Nacho’s father was the son of poor and obscure artisans from Villavieja, Nieves’s mother came directly from a tavern owner from Triana and a laundress from Carmona. He hadn’t confessed this to anyone of his caste; but it was the pure truth and had to be taken into account in this case. Afterwards, everything remained within the family, once the nascent project was realized; and given the times and the closed-off nature of the world, however dubious the formality of the little mejicanillo might be, it was known to him in the end, and what was known, however bad, would always be preferable to what was unknown. He thought a lot, a lot, about these details, and in the first letter he wrote to his sister, he said: “We can continue discussing this, if you like,” after repeating the saying and glossing it over with a certain discretion in his own way. And this was discussed at length between the two brothers, with the complete and complete approval of Lucrecia’s husband, who suddenly gained about eight pounds, because pleasant thoughts and cheerful hopes also became substance for that grateful body. As the months went by, the Sevillian girl learned to read, and then the Mexican boy, who already knew how to write, wrote a letter to her to test her reading skills, in such sweet and ingratiating terms that they clung to her even in the eyes. Nieves read the letter without the slightest difficulty, because the handwriting was exquisite, but she didn’t understand it; and because she couldn’t understand it and because it seemed like molasses, it made her squirm and made her want to write so she could tell her cousin to write differently or stop writing altogether. “It’s the style there,” her father told her, to warm her up a little and prepare her stomach. More time passed, and Nieves, as soon as she learned to write, kept her word. In a letter written in a scruffy hand, with very uneven handwriting and worse spelling, she gave Nacho a hard time: “I won’t bother you anymore,” she said , among other things, “if you don’t change that way… Let’s see. You’re too refined, fig, and everything comes out sticky from pure syrup… Let’s see. Here we have some other talk that doesn’t taste so much like old juice… Let’s see.” Nacho changed his ways somewhat, not in those days, but years later, when he was already studying law, and his cousin, a fifteen-year-old girl, had entered college. The Mexican’s complete change was impossible, because Nacho entered that way of writing whole and true: that’s how he spoke, That’s how he walked and that’s how he ate. His appearance continued to be good, very good; somewhat scruffy and lazy, but handsome, very handsome; and as the exchange of portraits continued, not only between the parents, but between the children directly, if the Sevillian woman had forgiven her cousin many sins of style by virtue of those other physical gifts, the Mexican, in view of his cousin’s extraordinary ones, had also known how to excuse her from the nagging of his cousin’s jokes, and with greater ease from her incurable spelling mistakes. As for interests, both of them were as thick as a fiddle. If Don Alejandro was doing well with the businesses he got into, his brother-in-law couldn’t fit the money in the house, as Lucrecia put it, nor could she fit the flesh on her body. It was a lot to fatten up; and worst of all, she couldn’t know when or where that tide of fat would end, because his appetite was also on the rise, and he became fiercer the more food he was given. For now, nothing hurt her; and aside from not being able to put on her shoes, dress, or go to bed on her own, she walked like clockwork. She was also somewhat worried by the fear that her weight might prevent her from making the planned trip to her native land, an opportunity she could already touch if she stretched her arm, because if by that time her husband’s fortune wasn’t enough to buy all of Villavieja, including its properties and surroundings, for a mere weight in gold , half a bag would not be far from it… Three more years passed, at the end of which Nacho received his investiture as a law graduate, and Nieves broke the locks of her cloister, never to return. Then there was another change of portraits. Nachito’s with the swathes and cap of the profession, and her cousin’s with all the trappings and regalia of a grown woman . The outfit suited the Mexican very well. He would have looked good in court, testifying in a noisy case, before an audience of idlers, more or less criminals too, and distinguished ladies. He wasn’t the type of grave lawyer, with a face like plaster and a soul like stamped paper, revealed in small glass eyes, to the beat of a booming, hollow voice, who draws, one by one, as if from the depths of his stomach, well-worn inlaid sophistries that had been instilled there after being used by a hundred other jurists of the same stripe. Nothing of the sort: Nacho, with his sweet and expressive eyes, his silky beard, his correct and very fine features, and his elegant demeanor, might not really be worth a handful of pins, because some fake diamonds cause much bigger setbacks ; But, _at first glance_, he was the type of new lawyer, the artist lawyer, who doesn’t follow the well-trodden paths of classic and ancient forensic traditions, but rather the thorny and risky summits of new legal problems; one of those who don’t use the books of the profession to practice it; one of those who go to the Court, not to argue, but to demolish; not to invoke texts and reasons from the common heritage, but to entangle themselves in psychopathic theories within a labyrinth of anthropological disquisitions, only to end up declaring all of humanity outside of asylums completely insane , with the heroic aim of saving from the gallows, for being an irresponsible madman, the distinguished criminal he defends, convicted and confessed and a repeat offender at that. Of course, these signs given here about her little cousin aren’t from Nieves’s own harvest . His malice didn’t go that far yet. She looked at the image from the only side accessible to her youthful vision, somewhat dazzled by the first glimmerings of the world she had just reached, fresh out of the school gates; and looking at it from that side and in that way, she limited herself to thinking of her cousin what fits into these very simple words. “It’s not bad that way. ” She immediately began to contemplate her own portrait with considerably greater eagerness than her cousin’s. Nothing could be more reasonable. For the first time, she saw herself in true womanly habits, without the slightest trace of a child’s shell or a schoolgirl’s livery; and there was much to look at and consider in this new phase of her life. Chapter 2. Don Alejandro’s Thesis. The day she first put on those habits to have her picture taken in them was filled with great emotion for Nieves; but not as profound as those her father felt when he saw her appear at the door of his study, putting on her gloves and saying at the same time: “Whenever you want, Papa,” with a little smile on her face and half her mouth, because the other half was occupied with a stalk of basil, which meant : “What do you think of your daughter in these brand-new finery?” Until then, at school or outside of school, with dresses a little longer or a little shorter, Nieves had always been a girl to her father, taller or shorter, more “well-made” or less “well-made”; but a girl nonetheless, “the girl,” as he called her when speaking to her housekeeper or to whoever came along; the girl, with the tastes, desires, and carelessness inherent and natural to an age of candor and innocence; but what a mess! From that critical moment, with that tight, subtle figure that highlighted shapes, widths, and roundness he’d never noticed before; with that suspicious glance from under the brim of her hat, half Burgundian, half Macarena, and that rustling of skirts and the peeking out, brushing the edge of the cap, of feet like sugared almonds, and that gliding of light over the waves of her blond hair… baskets! It was something else entirely. There was much more cinnamon in all that than he’d imagined, and there was room for more than just as much if one wanted to imagine. Thoughts of a certain kind were reflected in that graceful little head , and heartbeats in that lively body… and who knows! But, sir, where had his good eye been until then? Because that couldn’t have been the sudden work, the miracle of a few shreds of cloth and a few extra ribbons. No, baskets! that thing was there in itself, further inside or further out; but there it was… He had no doubt: to appreciate a statue at its full deserved value, one had to see it placed on its pedestal. A lot of fun, a lot of fun, if the case gave one cause for pondering, for a man with the plans and ideas he had at his core! “Well, let’s get going, my dear daughter,” he answered, as if distracted, to Nieves’s insinuation, without ceasing to look at her with his one wide- open eye, or to think what he was thinking. “You like it, you really like it, that harness you’re wearing for the first time… No, no, and you carry it with such ease!… A lot of fun with the little girl!… Let’s see, let’s see from behind… Don’t stop, no: keep going, keep walking… All the better!” “Baskets of the baby from the day before yesterday!”… Out into the street now… That ‘s it… that’s how it goes… like the sun and the moon… Aha! And that baby was already coming out into the courtyard between the fountain and the rosebushes in the flowerpots, which at that solemn moment greeted her, one with their softest murmurs, the others with their most exquisite fragrance, while, from the gallery of the apartment, the old housekeeper, a pure-blooded Ronda native, was shooting saetas at her, just as if the Virgin were passing in the Good Friday procession. The portrait turned out well, as it had to with that very appropriate model and that very reputable photographer. Don Alejandro had never doubted it. But what did he care about the portrait of his daughter at that moment? What mattered to him was something else, something else, baskets of saetas! something that in his opinion couldn’t wait, and that’s why he put it “on the table” as soon as they both returned home and took a break. “I repeat what I said, my dear daughter,” he began, “you look perfect dressed as a woman; in other words, as if you were born that way. ” “If I haven’t lost count,” Nieves replied, “you’ve told me that about thirty times in less than two hours. ” “And you’d be right, if you haven’t told me enough ,” her father replied, with no intention of joking. ” Because this is a topic that hasn’t left my mind since you appeared at that door a few hours ago. It’s quite natural: you see, I leave you here, a little schoolgirl, so to speak, and I find you a real lass two steps further on. I am your father; you are my only daughter: what “What are you going to worry about, canástoles, if they aren’t such pleasant things ?… Anyway, I’m in my own head, deep in these thoughts and with these reflections of the soul… But wait a minute, I’m not going to get into it this time to bore you to death with another barrage of nonsense… Well, I’d have to see the idea, canástoles! Ha, ha, ha! No, daughter, no: each thing demands its seasoning and its time; and an idea springs because it’s pushed by another that also wants to spring; and so, from idea to idea, before you know it, you find that you’ve formed a rosary of them that has no end, and half the world has been seen and turned around among the hooves… Eh?… Are you getting it? ” “Not even this,” responded Nieves, pointing with her thumbnail at the middle of the pad of her right index finger. “Well, the matter will come out little by little,” said her father, bursting into laughter and placing both hands on their respective thighs; “it will come out… Just be careful now, so you don’t miss the thread. ” Nieves, at all this, didn’t know whether to laugh or grieve, because the truth was that she had never heard or seen her father speak in that way or with those tricks; and so it happened that he was now showing his tight, polished little teeth, now frowning, or unnecessarily clearing his throat ; but without taking his gaze, half curious and half timid, from her father’s good, somewhat cowardly eye. “By the life of the Eight of Clubs!” he exclaimed, suddenly interrupting his rambling story. “What am I giving you cause for concern and even fear with these twists and turns and these parsimonies, just as if I were thinking of coming up with some otherworldly story? Ha, ha, ha!” Well, that would be nice, a bunch of jokes! Nothing, my dear, nothing: it all boils down to a sort of recounting of things and plans that I was thinking of making to you in a few days, and I’ve felt like making them right now, ever since I noticed that you don’t need even those few days’ apprenticeship to properly play your new role as a proper young lady… And there you have the reason for the thirty-odd compliments I’ve been throwing your way in a jiffy… I expected to see you somewhat uncertain at first… eh? with a certain shrinking, and even… Anyway, to the point , what a bunch of jokes! Because even now, from my determination to avoid the mess, my forehead is going to be plagued with it. So to the point, I said; and the point, without further ado, is this: there are two ways… two main ones, understand this well, of slipping through the doors of the world: one suddenly, and the other by its counted steps. I’m in favor of this approach, and I even consider it necessary, like knowing the primer letter by letter to learn to read fluently and properly. Are you there? Well then. You
‘re leaving limbo now; a dressmaker who understands you takes you, dresses you up and adorns you like a woman who is the daughter of a wealthy and well- connected father in the third capital of Spain, and says to me: “There’s that jewel, ready to shine among the most resplendent. Give her the pass, and in with her…” “Little by little,” I reply then, not to the dressmaker, but to you, who heard it: “Beyond that door there’s much good; but also much bad: both tempt and seduce equally, and it’s all mixed up and leaps out at greedy eyes, like a salad.” We must, therefore, learn to look, and educate and fortify our stomachs before sneaking in with the possible assurance that we won’t be fooled by the best of the story… Are you there? Well, now apply the simile to the reality of our case, and I tell you: look, Nieves, I, in your place, at your age, in your position, with your rational hopes of a long and pampered life, as pampered as decorously befits an honorable woman of good and Christian upbringing, would not begin to enjoy the legitimate pleasures of the world from the most turbulent and the largest, but from the calmest and smallest ; I would not expose myself to corrupting my good instincts with the vitiated airs and dangerous examples of the social life of large cities, but I would duly prepare myself with other, purer airs and Other examples more… come on, more… Baskets! Let’s put it plainly and be done with it: I would like, my dear Nieves, that, first of all, we go, but immediately, for as long a time as you could bear, to Peleches, to the home of your ancestors, where I was born and where I wish to die, as late as possible, of course; to Peleches, I say, where you have never been, because the force of things has willed it that way, not because I have overlooked the need, as you know from what you have heard me lament every moment. Oh, and how this decision made at such an opportune time and occasion must have shone in our bodies and in our minds! Without any school obligations, you; free from the encumbrances of my pressing business, because, in anticipation of this event, I have been arranging things to my liking with the necessary calm and composure; You free, I free, with time and money to spare in that cheerful and healthy region… Peleches, in itself, isn’t much of a place for a young lady like you to enjoy herself; but just a stone’s throw away is the town where there’s a bit of everything there is here, even well -educated people, with their corresponding society and respective differences in status, but simple and noble, and even patriarchal, if you will; and besides that, picturesque and healthy popular customs, admirable horizons, and a salubrious atmosphere. You can fill yourself with all of this, my daughter, without the slightest risk of it harming you either physically or morally: on the contrary, it will fall like fertile dew upon the beautiful springtime of your life, and by giving greater firmness and development to the many good things you already have, it will make what you accumulate even better than that . You already know the faith I have in certain principles of hygiene, even when put into practice in the places and on occasions least likely to demonstrate them. There’s no escape, Nieves: give me pure air, and I’ll give you rich blood; give me rich blood, and I’ll give you well -balanced humors; give me well-balanced humors, and I’ll give you the health of bronze; give me, finally, the health of bronze, and I’ll give you an honorable spirit, noble thoughts, and exemplary customs. _In a healthy body, a healthy mind_. It’s a given… always and of course, subject to God’s lofty designs. You’ve heard me say it many times; and you can’t deny that during your childhood, lacking the fresh air of my homeland, you drank half of what flows freely in the most comfortable walks of Seville. For if the recipe doesn’t fail even in miserable and weak natures with misguided thoughts, what wonders will it not work in yours, which is a model of rich, noble, and well-balanced natures? Honey on flakes, my daughter… To conclude once and for all: see me in Peleches happy and satisfied and frolicking like a free goat, acclimated to those places and those customs, half wild and half urban, and I’ll leave it to you to appoint the day and hour for your introduction to the noisy world of the great capitals… With the temper of the weapons you have acquired in this way, don’t let flies get you here… or in St. Petersburg… And that’s the case, pure and simple. Having said that, Don Alejandro once again placed his hands on the corresponding thighs, and with his good eye fixed on Nieves’s, and his face very smiling, he prepared to receive the reply. It didn’t take long, because in fact he was frolicking with Nieves on her lips, her eyes, and her whole body, returned to her ordinary tranquility long before her father’s picturesque speech ended . “Brave idea!” he said, beginning to laugh sincerely. “Is that how you feel?” exclaimed her father, also very happy, though not a little surprised. “And where else?” retorted his daughter. “Well, I’ve been on the verge of asking you this as a great favor more than twice in these last few days! Don’t you know my tastes well? ” “Basketballs!… So everything I’ve been preaching to you… ” “A lost sermon, my dear father… And beware, it had turned out well! What a pity! ” “Flatterer! Well, look, although it had cost me my little sweat, I’ll give him a run for his money. “That’s being generous! And don’t you have any other similar favors to ask of me? ” “Woman,” Bermúdez responded after hesitating for a few moments and scratching his head a little with a finger, “not so much a favor, I won’t say; but another little bit of friendly chat, nothing more than friendly, along the lines of this one, maybe. ” “About Peleches too?” Nieves asked, frowning a little . “Precisely about Peleches, taken as the main point of the conversation, no. ” “And is that supposed to be the conversation right now? ” “Nor,” Don Alejandro responded, hesitating again and scratching himself. ” In a few days, if I think of it and it’s appropriate; “Because I warn you, for your peace of mind, it’s not a matter of life or death for you or me… Just talking for the sake of talking, like the other guy said, and all the things of an old man… because I’m already climbing fifty-five, my dear daughter, and you have to keep everything in mind at this point, and look in many directions, in case maybe one of your feet slips… and that’s it, the trip’s over all of a sudden, baskets! ” “Well,” said Nieves with a very graceful little gesture, “play the old man now and make me sad. ” “That would be a real goose chase!” exclaimed Bermúdez, formally indignant with himself, “and without any damned necessity; because, today , I feel the life of thirty years frolicking in my heart… It’s the pure truth, believe me for these are crosses. I said that… just to say it.” “Well, I said the other thing, innocent of God,” Nieves responded to her father, giving him a kiss on the cheek that had the hollow eye. “Let’s go bye bye then,” concluded the good Bermúdez Peleches, almost weeping with pleasure, and returning his daughter’s kiss with another resounding one. “So,” she added, remaining in front of the chair she had previously occupied, “there is no more business to discuss for now between the two of you? ” “Why do you ask?” “Because I have things to do in another part of the house… You see, her ladyship, and the best part of the day is spent in conversation… ” “Amazing, what I’m going to gain with a housekeeper as industrious as you!… Well, in answer to your question, I say there is no more business. ” “See you later then. ” “See you forever, my dear daughter… Oh! In case I forget later: you know that the first copy of your portrait must be for _those_ in Mexico.” His, at this hour, must already be here if it’s due or arriving. Nieves acknowledged this with a nod without turning her face and left the room. Her father also left, but heading in the opposite direction, and locked himself in his office, where he wrote a very long letter, which he later mailed with an envelope addressed “To Mr. Claudio Fuertes y León, retired commander, in Villavieja.” Chapter 3. The Eye of Bermúdez Peleches. Nacho’s portrait arrived in Seville a few days later, with a letter from the new lawyer to Nieves, and another from his mother to Don Alejandro, and Nieves’s photograph left for Mexico with a letter from her to her cousin, and another from her father to Lucrecia. This determined woman’s work had already reached its peak. To write the little she wrote to her brother, she had to manage by burying her stomach under the table, and even then she could barely reach the paper with her hand. It was a buoy that no longer fit anywhere, nor could she conceive of any other relatively comfortable position than that of buoys, floating, which was impossible, as impossible as her trip to Spain, if God didn’t work a miracle of making her at least a third thinner , during the remainder of spring, so that she could embark during the first months of summer. Considering the worst-case scenario, it was already a given that Nacho would come alone to meet his family in Spain, and, in passing, to take a look at the most important things in the United States and Europe. That was the plan agreed upon there, and it would be carried out in midsummer. Nacho also spoke about it to his cousin; but in what terms? This is what Don Alejandro wanted to find out; because it is well known that Nieves, two years old, hadn’t read her father the letters her cousin wrote her, nor the drafts of the ones she wrote to him. The two Bermúdez Peleches brothers remained in perfect agreement about a certain plan hatched since their respective children were toddlers. But were the children aware of their parents’ plans? Did they consider them valid and had they accepted them willingly? Don Alejandro could swear that not a word had passed his lips addressed to Nieves with the intention of revealing them to her. His sister Lucrecia assured him the same about her son. Could it be true? And if so, had the same idea been born between the two cousins, through correspondence and the exchange of portraits… or through the work of certain idle devils who amuse themselves by bringing and carrying through the air and ingesting in this ear and the other the murmur of the most secret confidences, and even the dust of the most closely guarded thoughts? In her opinion, the time had come, half- announced to her daughter days before, to discuss this thorny case with her. Fortune presented itself to her, as Nieves placed her cousin’s portrait in an elegant red plush frame, and she used this as a pretext to get down to business… “I repeat,” she told her, “that dress is a perfect fit.” Nieves, without turning her face toward her father, moved the portrait that was already in the frame away; and after gazing at it for a few moments with slightly narrowed eyes, she folded her arm again and responded with the utmost indifference while placing the painting on the nearest piece of furniture: “It’s not bad like that.” She had already said the same thing before, as will be remembered, without anyone asking her. With the same freshness and the same indifference, she responded to the long and malicious interrogation with which her father had been harassing her for quite some time. “And how about the style?” he even asked her. Has anything changed about those guachinanguitas since I last read your letters?… Because you know very well that, for at least two years now, you haven’t shown them to me the way you used to… You rascal! Not even that. Nieves didn’t blush or hurry in the least. She replied flatly and simply that the letters were there, if she wanted to read them, and that if she hadn’t shown him the ones she’d received in the last two years, it was precisely because that was the time that had passed since she’d realized that her cousin’s rhetoric had no damned substance. Awful! And she told him so coolly and so… Well, for pretense and deceit, that was already going too far; and if he was speaking the truth, he still had to travel the whole way to get to where he and his sister had been headed for so long. By the life of him!… She immediately touched on another new entry: Peleches. What that house was like, what rooms it had, which of them would be most suitable for Nacho and which for her, for Nieves, according to what common sense dictated… and also the circumstances. He emphasized this matter of circumstances very loudly, until his voice and the eyelids of his good eye trembled a little. Nieves then lowered hers a little; and while she tapped the glass of her cousin’s portrait with the fingers of her right hand, with her other hand she unnoticed, plucking the petals from the small bunch she carried pinned to her chest. It hurt there, according to signs that did not go unnoticed by Bermúdez’s eye. Well, it lasted there, basketfuls, until it bled! And the good man went on, fantasizing about domestic, idyllic, and bucolic scenes; but, strangely enough, the more the panpipes of Virgil and Garcilaso clamored, the more indifferent and cool Nieves appeared. What the hell was that? He finally lost his patience and temper, and threw himself into the deep end with these questions: “Anyway, and to top it all off, my daughter: are you interested in anything or not in your cousin’s coming? Do you care whether he lives with us or with the relatives in Villavieja? Whether he takes the law to the house and the people of Peleches or whether he doesn’t give a penny for it?” them? That he’ll leave bored after eight days of arriving, or that he won’t let himself be dragged away even with hoes and boiling water? That he’ll be a lamb to you, or that you deserve no more esteem than a sack of straw? Answer and let’s understand each other. Since Bermúdez’s eye was somewhat blazing and his speech was vehement and his accent a little harsh, Nieves, with these symptoms and under the overwhelming weight of so many delicate questions, wanted to answer, but with due caution, but she didn’t know how. She became very confused; the unexpected trance suffocated her, and she ended up not knowing which side to sit on or where to fix the gaze of her troubled eyes. “Understood, my daughter, understood,” her father immediately exclaimed, not wasting a single symptom or detail. “Understood from A to Z, as if the very little angels in heaven were singing it in my ear.” “Understood,” she added , rising from the chair she was sitting in, “and let not another word be said. Ah, how clumsy, how simple, and how barbaric I was, insisting that something be placed in the palms of my hands that should only be looked at with the eyes of those within!… What do you know of those things so fragile, so hidden, and so deep, nor with what shame do you dare to lay a brutal paw on them to turn them upside down and desecrate them?… Forgive me, my daughter, at least for the honorable intention I had when I put you in the predicament I did. Keep your secret, which proves you wise, and let no more be said about this until you wish it. Silence is enough for me. A kiss now to seal the peace, and goodbye. ” The warmth of the kiss and the quality of the smile with which Nieves bid her father farewell are evident. He, walking toward his office, summarized and seasoned the fruits of his completed inquiry in this way: “It’s visible and tangible. There’s not the slightest doubt about it. He and his cousin are in perfect agreement; not because of any outside suggestions or the officious advice of anyone, but because of the spontaneous or providential birth of that idea or that feeling in the heads or hearts of both of them; a circumstance that doubles the interest and value of the matter. Nachito, according to his mother’s incessant affirmations, has no blemish in his morals; and as his portraits clearly demonstrate, he has none in his physical appearance either. As for wealth, let’s not even talk about it: he’ll be a minted gold mine. Nachito, with these advantageous conditions and qualities, today— let this be understood clearly, today—reigns in the heart and mind of his cousin.” Nieves’s head and heart, today… today, I mean, are like two virgin wax tablets: whatever is printed on them will remain there for ever and ever, if it isn’t erased by the imprint of another new doll some treacherous hand makes. A father, one of those cheap, low-class people, wouldn’t have paid any attention to this most delicate matter; and for the same reason that he saw his daughter precociously developed physically and intellectually; for the same reason that he saw her transformed, overnight, into a woman, and into a graceful, elegant, and striking woman, with all the necessary elements to shine and have an honest time in the world, “into the world with her before with before,” he would have said; and into the world he would have plunged her with a single blow… Ah, foolish and ill-advised father! Who can predict what will become of your daughter’s thoughts, inclinations, and even her whims, breathing an atmosphere she has never breathed, and without weapons to defend herself in a region she has never seen, full of temptations and stimuli that will prey on her unnoticed nature, like mosquitoes on syrup? And if you have something that is already imprinted on her wax tablets, who can assure you that it will not be erased by the impression of something else, and that this new impression will not turn out to be a malignant sore and an incurable disease? Well then: I, although with only one eye, have guarded more than you, who have both serviceable, in this delicate matter; and because I saw Nieves precocious and that she had something to keep in her closet, something very well imprinted on her wax tablets, precisely for that reason, Instead of immersing her now in the hubbub of the world and its deceptive splendors, I’m taking her to the solitude of Peleches, where the air is fresh and pure, and there is unhindered light and nature in all its grandeur, so that it nourishes the blood and strengthens the spirit, and the wax hardens so that what is imprinted on it is not erased with three pulls; to Peleches, blind, to Peleches, where neither the atmosphere nor the customs will be found, even if one tries hard, anything that could tempt the inexperienced maiden to twist and distort the nature of her ideas or the direction of her judicious thoughts. And if at the end of the journey it turns out that her cousin does not deserve what she has been devoting to him, so much the better for her to know it that way and not be killed or deluded by grief… or the spite of disillusionment. This is playing with all hands and with skill and before the face of God; That is, in short, to take precautions, zeal, and tact as far as humanly possible . With this, I fulfill my role as a wise man and a loving father; and thus I find myself satisfied, what is called satisfied to the point of satiety… Gosh! And the rest will be damned. Well then: if Don Alejandro Bermúdez Peleches’s explorations into the depths of his daughter’s conscience, so alarming because of their ostentatious nature, had been carried out, with his usual straightforwardness, by Virtudes, for example, Nieves’s closest friend at school, Nieves, by right and by the grace of God and with the laconicism she used, would have satisfied Virtudes’ curiosity in the following way, more or less: “Ever since I learned to read and write, I have suspected that Papa and my Aunt Lucrecia want the letters and portraits that Nachito and I send each other so often to be of use _for something_. He was tiny, and he was already flirting with me. ” I reprimanded him many times, not precisely because he flirted with me, but because of the way he flirted with me. He said such sticky things to me! Imagine, he even called me “huerita” because I’m blond. He took the reprimands as a joke and intensified the flirtation; and Papa, who then read the letters, both those that went and those that came, greatly applauded these arguments and assured me that, with time, my cousin’s wit would gain more substance, and that by then I would like them. For now, he would praise his beauty for me and read me the letters in which his mother praised him, body and soul. He had no shame, either inside or out. It made no difference to me. We both grew up: he entered university and I went to college. As a handsome young man, he was truly one then; and as far as style was concerned, some of the saccharine had been corrected, but it still stuck. At school, letters must be delivered and received open, so that the Mother who understands these things knows their contents. Well, they received them and delivered them to me unopened, at Papa’s strict command. With this, and with him warning me not to interrupt my correspondence with Nachito despite my schoolgirl duties, I became even more convinced that something was afoot in the insistence that the little Mexican and I correspond frequently and in secret. This little Mexican, as he grew older and studied, delved, though not too deeply, into the subjects of his letters; but it all still sounded like a joke to me, and from that perspective I spoke to him. That’s how we both arrived, Nacho at the end of his studies and I at the end of school, without him ever having said anything to me seriously or formally, and without me missing him or being surprised that he didn’t say anything to me. That he is still handsome and a good man and is very rich, and that he is coming to Spain to live with us and meet his family… I don’t regret any of it. That he comes with the avowed intention of achieving what I suspect his parents and mine have planned… that will be what it will be and according to my mood, and whether it pleases me or not . That, things being as they are, he is disfigured by smallpox, or he decides not to come or to remember my namesake again… for such a day will be a year. I will be sorry about the smallpox, as one feels a misfortune in a friend who is also a relative; but as for the other matter, One more pleasant curiosity, and all’s well. “Common,” curious Virtudes would say then, wanting to know every hidden secret in her friend’s closet. ” Nothing worries you, nothing hurries you, and you live in the greatest peace of mind, as far as your Mexican cousin is concerned; but at your age, with the health and beauty you possess, recently released from the prison of the college, how adored you seem by your father, so rich, so accommodating, and so down-to-earth, what demon is tempting you the most now? Because someone must tempt you, or is it a lie that the devil doesn’t calm down? What is your greatest ambition for now? What is it that you most yearn for and desire?” Nieves would have answered without hesitation: “Air, light, independence, the sound of groves, and the music of little birds.” I know there are great cities full of wonders, for the admiration and enjoyment of the rich and unemployed, and that women of our class shine and revel in the pleasures of their world. All that is fine where it is; but it doesn’t tempt me today, because I don’t miss it yet. If I were to be included in that mix, I would accept it without great reluctance; but given the choice, I’ll stick with the other, which I like better now, and without fear of being deceived by my thoughts, because you well know that I’ve always been very inclined that way. And there’s no other. And there really wasn’t one, deep inside the poor girl, so misunderstood by her father on that point… and on some other, for it mustn’t be forgotten that Don Alejandro Bermúdez Peleches’s great prick of temper was born from having seen her, suddenly, dressed as a woman, with flashes and scintillations and an incendiary power that frightened him; And it must be clearly stated, even in justice, that there was not the slightest detail in Nieves’s physical nature that was not in complete harmony with the serene balance and honorable discipline of her moral conscience. Indeed, that balance, that calm, and that honorable discipline, and nothing less uglier, were evident in the tranquil and profound gaze of her slanted blue eyes, her well-folded and fresh mouth, the pearly whiteness of her complexion, the sober and elegant richness of the contours of her bust, the slenderness of her figure, and the calm poise and grace of her gait. She was neither tall nor strikingly beautiful; but she was extremely interesting . The only cloud that often obscured the transparent clarity of her countenance was a sudden frown of her pretty brow; but this detail, as a mechanical effect of an extremely sincere thought and impression, did not lend the slightest accent of harshness to the expression of her gaze. She was as healthy as a coral, very naive, above all, and diligent and spirited. She painted a little, played the piano regularly, and enjoyed reading good books of the imagination. She wasn’t an artist; but she felt and savored art in her own way. And blessed beggar father, unable to read what was so clearly visible in that wide-open book! Thinking as we have seen, Bermúdez arrived at his office; and, fingering the correspondence the housekeeper had left on his desk while he was hunting for Nieves’s secrets, he came across a letter bearing the stamp of the Villavieja post office. He was overjoyed at this and sat down to read it comfortably, because it promised, judging by its bulk, to be quite long. He opened it, and indeed it was. It was signed by Don Claudio Fuertes y León, and it said what the reader, if curious, will be able to see in the following chapter. Chapter 4. What Don Claudio Fuertes y León wrote from Villavieja to Don Alejandro Bermúdez Peleches My friend and lord: The orders you were pleased to give me in your favored last letter are in execution and will be fulfilled according to your wishes, just as those you have communicated to me in your three previous pleasant letters, “in anticipation,” as you said, “of what might happen one day least expected.” The news that, in the end, it will happen with complete certainty and at a not too distant date, which also informs me, You see, it has given me great satisfaction. I still fear, however, that your desires will be somewhat deceived as soon as you begin to realize them in this ancient and moth-eaten solitude, after so many years of traveling the world and residing in one of its most beautiful and flourishing cities. At the very least, I am very suspicious that, if not you, because you were born here and know it well and love it, having rooted it in your heart as a child, then Miss Nieves, who is in a very different situation, will grow bored after four days; and if she becomes bored, help me to feel. But to this you will reply that I am meddling in what does not concern me, and I sincerely ask your pardon for my audacity. “When you come, you will see that the dilapidated palace has been used to its full potential , and that, after the repairs carried out on it, albeit in haste and with the few and poor items available here, the piano and the other furniture, rags, and odds and ends you have been sending me are not in a bad state of repair, in the places they occupy, according to your meticulous instructions. In the enclosed document, I am sending you a very detailed and comprehensive account of all the improvements made in Peleches under my direction, for your consideration before leaving Seville. I will be glad if it satisfies you. “That said, I proceed to fulfill the most difficult of all the commissions I have had the pleasure of receiving from you since the day you honored me with the position of your representative in this municipality. You tell me to send you abundant news, that it may serve as a faithful painting of Villavieja in its current state, seen from the outside as well as the inside, because you have lost sight of it for many years and wish, when you return, not to tread as if on unknown ground. Certain of doing it badly, but with the firm intention of serving you faithfully, here goes, by the grace of God, the painting you entrusted to me; and “if it comes out with a beard, Saint Anthony… ” If I were to tell you that Villavieja was in the same state and state in which you left it so many years ago, I would be deceiving you and flattering Villavieja; because, strictly speaking, and fulfilling the law of its destiny, it has worse than then the ravages of the passage of time, and the misery and neglect of its inhabitants. Better, not a brick, not a nail, not a tile. What was trembling when you left has collapsed, and much of what was firm and upright then is now tottering, preparing to fall, or digging to tip over, as is said here in similar cases. There are many examples of dry-land towns that were of great importance in ancient times and today are piles of solitary ruins or little more; and there is reason for them to be numerous, because then wars were waged and life was carried out in a certain way, and the highest, most inaccessible , or most easily defended places were the preferred places for founding towns; unlike what happens today due to the demands of our way of life. But I know of only one example of seaports, of coastal towns, that have gone from bad to worse in the last half century, that of Villavieja. It seems as though it was punished by the name given to it. To this end, I will tell you that I have searched the municipal archives, the ecclesiastical archives, and even private attics in order to find out something about the founding of this town and the origin and date of its name, and that I have achieved nothing. If I tell you that it does not even appear on the map of Spain that is here in the public school, that says it all. If one is shocked at this lack of historical traces where they should be so abundant, the learned people of Villavieja say: “That and much more was destroyed by the French invasion.” “Corriente,” one retorts; but what is this map about? Why doesn’t this port appear on it?” To these questions, they reply that this too is the work of the French, due to grudges from other times, that is, from the times of the French invasion. Here the French invasion is still as fresh and as rosy as if it had passed through Villavieja the day before yesterday. Tell them that the This map and others like it were not made in France, but in Spain. They will flatly deny it, because they cannot conceive of such considerable talents in Spaniards other than those from Villaveja; and if they admit any exception, they will maintain that the omission has been, is being, and will be made on this map and on all maps, out of the envy and ill will of the people of Madrid. The fact is that it is unknown why this town was baptized, at its inception, with the epithet “old,” or if it was given to it later as an expressive nickname. What is beyond doubt is that the name, or curse, or whatever it is, suits it perfectly. “There is, and I also consider, the main cause of this moribund state of affairs to be the inextinguishable and traditional enmity that exists, as you know, between the Carreños de la Campada and the Vélez de la Costanilla, the two main neighborhoods, as you will recall, lower and upper, respectively, of Villavieja. These two families, who had a certain relative importance outside of here, and here always had a lot of prestige, have been able, and even today, when they have greatly declined, could do or get others to do something good and beneficial for the town; but precisely that is where their fever has come in; that is, to hinder, to destroy those above all whatever those below plan or devise, and vice versa; and in this way, one for the other, the house is left unswept. Add to this that Villavieja has never been able to secure a supporter in Madrid or in the provincial capital; That the national highway passes half a league away from the town, either because the engineers were unaware of us when they laid it out, or because they gave us very little importance; that the province has refused to build this small connecting branch, and that this municipality has failed to properly improve the rough path that serves as its place, because whenever it has attempted to do so, not with great effort, suspicion has arisen among those from La Campada or La Costanilla that the attempt was the work of those from La Costanilla or La Campada, and the devil has taken them away with the arts of custom; add, I repeat, and keep in mind these facts and some others of the same layout, which I need not mention, and it will even prove to be a justification for the conduct of the Villavejanos. Seeing them so peaceful, so attached to their shell, and so content and in love with it, one truly doubts whether the material state of the town is the work of the inhabitant’s neglect, or whether the inhabitant is such because he has embodied in his nature, as a spirit, the town’s singular character. Someone had hoped that with the fashion for summer vacations among the wealthy people of the interior, and the excellent conditions of this beach, so sheltered and spacious, there would be no shortage of those who would take notice, thus beginning an era of relative prosperity for the town and its port. Good and fat times! A family from very far away came, six years ago, with plenty of money and willing to bathe and spend a long time here. For now, it was difficult to find lodging, and that was bad. The next day , the lady and her two daughters were on the verge of drowning , having been unable to find anyone willing to serve as lifeguards at any price, and not knowing where they were going. The eldest son, a young man of twenty, was fleeced that same night at the Casino; and the next day they all left the way they had come, after the innkeeper had ripped out their guts. Of course, they haven’t returned this way, not a single soul. On another occasion , something that looked like a good coal mine was reported in this same area, right next to our house: some Englishmen smelled it and bought it for a small sum. Some of us thought that the town would find a good patch for its cape in that direction; but after some preparatory work and a cursory exploitation of the mine, the exploiters abandoned it, or rather, sold it for fifty thousand reales to three local men. In the end, only one of them remained in charge, buying the other two’s performances at an eighty percent discount. This individual, a certain Barraganes, a tax collector, has been operating it ever since, scratching the surface and employing , only seasonally at most, eight workers whose discovery cost him a fortune. To transport what is being collected in this leisurely manner for sale wherever it is most convenient, a small coastal steamer comes every four or six months; and this is the only ship that has anchored in this port for years. The English built a small road from the mine to the wharf, about two kilometers long, but, unfortunately, in the opposite direction to the main road. They strengthened the dilapidated wharf a little with a few ashlars and half a dozen planks, and that’s what we’ve gained. Of these things and others that I have also mentioned, and some that I will mention later, I already informed you in due time, as well as of the direction taken by the English principal, how attached he was to the town, and how much he would have taught it, if, having left two years after arriving because the mine disappointed them, he had remained with us for even two more years; but I am telling you again because, in my desire to give you the complete picture, I do not want to omit any of its principal components, even if they are already known to you. “You will not have forgotten what happened to that Catalan gentleman who was here not long ago with the intention of establishing a salting and pickling factory, bringing, to supply it with fish, a squadron of well-manned boats, and lavishly hiring the three that were still in the port. As soon as the residents of Villavieja closest to the beach learned of his intentions, they plunged him into the sea so hard, catching him unawares on a December evening, to be more precise, and beating him so hard upon his exit that he didn’t even wait to change his clothes before fleeing Villavieja, just like a spaniel. “I don’t want to cite any more examples of this kind, for the same reason they abound in my memory and also in yours; and I warn you that of the aforementioned three fishing boats that were in this port at the time of the plunge and subsequent thrashing of the Catalan, only one remains. The other two were smashed to pieces on the beach, where they had been beached for a bit of a tour, by a tremendous easterly swell, a rare occurrence here, which suddenly overwhelmed them one night. The owners were left without them, and the fishermen who manned them were quite satisfied. Just like that, they were eager to leave the trade that, besides being dangerous, didn’t provide them with food due to the lack of a market, in which they were right, much more so than they were in beating the Catalan gentleman who had tried to hire them at a good salary out of Villavieja. “Now they’ve procured a couple of patched-up boats; and, wandering here and there with them, as other such boats wander, on the flat sea, they’re living from hunger. These boats, about half a dozen in total, and even a launch, are the only fishing equipment in a port as large as this one. And yet, there’s plenty of fish in the town, not because of how much comes from the sea, but because of what little is left over for the consumption of the population, the only market it has due to the lack of rapid communications with other markets. “Commerce, in general, has declined, although it may seem unbelievable to you. Two grocery establishments, the ones you knew, have gone bankrupt, and another has closed. There are three more: one in Costanilla, another in Campada, and another in the Maravedí square. I won’t mention taverns, because they are supposed to be plentiful. There has also been some decline in the draper’s business. For the time being, the ancient and famous _Perla de Ezcaray_ no longer exists. Old Don Anselmo, who was the soul of the house, died, and it has been necessary to liquidate it at the instigation of the deceased’s son-in-law, a certain Córcoles, a profiteer and trickster of average reputation. The rest of the guild, some scraping by little by little and others as best they can, continue in their hovels in the arches of the Plaza Mayor. There you will also find, and in prosperous fortune, the Plump Periquet, _The Valencian_, as the sign reads, with his dubious china, his dusty glassware, his rolls of worn-out matting, and his innumerable flashy trinkets. He got it into his head that he would end up in the presumptuous _Parrot Bazaar_ , which is right next to him, and he has succeeded without great effort. This bazaar, with its grand facade and black, empty backgrounds, if not of cobwebs and esparto ropes, of palm-nut brooms, a bit of rough ironwork, another bit of Talavera pottery, two strings of cowbells , and a few other incongruities in this art, has, as you will remember, a large painted cardboard parrot above the sign that crowns its window. Well, Periquet, who doesn’t have a shop window, in his determination to compete with the bazaar in every way, has placed atop the sign of his cluttered but well-stocked little shop a parrot, also made of cardboard and also heavily graffitied, standing on the word _DE_, or rather, with each letter of those two on its corresponding leg. The unemployed people of Villavieja quickly deciphered the hieroglyph, and in groups of six they came the first few days to read aloud one of them: _”El Valenciano’s Parrot.”_ Then they burst out laughing, looked toward the back of the adjacent bazaar, and went on to exchange many comments. All this greatly flattered Periquet’s vanity and, as may be expected, aggravated the lingering resentments of the shop owners, who, being pure-blooded Villavejanos, feel deeply wounded by the wrong done to them by their native town, helping them to be ruined and vilified by an intruder and a boor who still wears espadrilles and a headscarf, and can neither read nor write. “What _La cotorra de El Valenciano_ has not been able to take away from the _Bazar del Papagayo_, is the early evening gatherings, the same in winter as in other seasons of the year, but especially in the winter season. There, punctually as soon as night falls, come the parish priest and the two assistants, the old doctor Don Cirilo, the solicitor Ajete, the lawyer Canales, and Chichas, a former and now retired shopkeeper from the Maravedí square, where he made the capital with which he now makes a living . These are the regular regulars at the bazaar. The doctor, the lawyer, and the parish priest are the men who know the most about Villavieja, past and present; and these things are what are most talked about in the gathering, when they are talked about at all, because usually nothing is talked about there, nor is it seen, because it is always in the dark. So it inspires a certain fear to look inside when passing by the door at night. In that deep, dark, and silent cavern, you can see a spark flickering from time to time, produced by so many puffs on cigars in the process… and nothing else can be seen, no matter how closely you look; nor can you usually hear any other sounds than a dry cough, or the creaking of a chair, or the blowing of a nose. In these cases, even though you know how honorable and peaceful the people gathered there are, the thought of sticking your head in is assailed by the fear of being grabbed by invisible hands, muzzled, and dragged further , to the mouth of a very deep chasm into which you will be thrown to be slowly devoured by vermin and mice. When the gathering can be heard a little from the porch, it is because comments on some political news are rarely made. Usually, the loudest noise is the measured, sleepy murmur produced by the scholarly or doctrinal tales of the doctor, the lawyer, or the priests . This bazaar and this gathering have a certain venerable and special quality, and that’s why I dedicate a few lines to them more than to other things here, knowing that I won’t bother you even if I don’t tell you anything you don’t know . “The watchmaker Chaves died years ago; but the watchmaker’s shop remains where it always was, three doors down from the bazaar, just as you knew it. His son—that is, the watchmaker’s son, who runs it—is the one who runs it.” of it, he knows his duty perfectly; and, like his father, he makes and sells cages and mousetraps, and fixes fine locks and rosaries, and cures using the _Le Roy_ method, highly accredited here. “The truly new shop for you in Los Arcos is that of a tailor from La Rioja who came to Villavieja about six years ago. He does quite well, and provides a great service to the people of Villavieja who, without asking for refinement or anything like it, used to see and desire each other before dressing outside of here; because to think that the other two tailors you knew, and who still remain, would come from your measurements with paper strips, their flared trouser legs, and their gathered skirts, was to imagine the impossible. “The style of our shoemakers has also improved somewhat; but not much . “_Gorrilla_ the silversmith still lives, and in his same gloomy little shop in the Rinconada de la Colegiata. There you will see him when you come, behind the rusty glass on which the same three pairs of silver earrings, the same rattle, and the same collection of worn rings are still hanging from a horizontal wire, his head bowed and his face hidden by the enormous peak of his otter cap, now half-peeled, busy soldering with the blowtorch something that always looks the same, with the door closed and no dealer inside or outside, nor anywhere near, coming or going. And they say he sells and makes a profit, and even has a lot of money! He must have it; but I doubt he acquired it through his trade. “And since I am so close to the Collegiate Church, I do not want to go elsewhere with the story, without introducing you to your good friend, both mine and everyone else’s, Don Adrián Pérez, as whole and as calm as if years had not passed by him, in his everlasting pharmacy in the Plazoleta and right in front of the portico of the temple, with his long-tailed black frock coat, always unbuttoned; his waistcoat, also black, buttoned to the neck, and this tightly woven into a three-strand tie, equally black and silk, with no hint of a shirt collar anywhere, although the scapular cord is often visible below the nape of his neck or above the Adam’s apple, and his everlasting velvet cap on his little head, still only gray, despite his seventy- five years, constantly rubbing his left elbow with his right hand, speaking little, smiling, and never hurrying, surprising, or moving, or upset, or much less getting angry about anything. He is, as he has always been, the living embodiment of parsimony and well-being, in the best pharmacy in the best of towns in the best of all possible worlds. Needless to say, the pharmacy follows the rules of its apothecary: the same porcelain jars with the same names in abbreviated Latin; The same Virgin of Mercy, special patron saint of the establishment, in her mahogany niche, perched high and center on the shelf, that is, in the “Eye,” the “eye” toward which the proverbial stone is directed; the same chestnut pillbox with its rusty iron “dishes”; the same ladle for the decoctions, the same scissors for cutting the bucket of the usual comforters, and even the same crumpled, flat paper, bought at random from the schoolchildren, for their pill cones and powdered medicine wrappers. “The only novelty, at least for you, in this pharmacy, is the apothecary’s son, and a pharmacist himself, five or six years old now. He’s a devilish monstrosity, who seems to you now white as well as black, skilled as inept, clever in some cases and simple in others. He is adept at many things, and I have not yet been able to determine which of them his true aptitudes draw him towards. He seems, for the moment, well-to-do, and helps his father in the pharmacy with the best wishes. “I need hardly say to you that it is in this little corner of Villavieja that the news of your imminent arrival has best arrived, not because I claim that it has gone down badly elsewhere, but because of the cordiality with which this most good fellow regards you and everything that belongs to you, I answer with my skin, and I don’t dare to go that far with others. You know very well how rife here are the woodworms and class jealousies; and although all the Bermúdezes, fortunately for themselves and unfortunately for Villavieja, have managed to isolate themselves in their nest of Peleches from the intrigues and misfortunes of down here , in the end you are a Bermúdez, you have a lot of money, and you rank higher than anyone else among all the Villavieja residents, even if you don’t intend to rank. Anyway, you understand me. “Since the painting I’m sketching out isn’t going to be scrupulous statistics for the management of the Tax Office, but something quite different, I ignore the other commercial and industrial branches of the town and the life they lead, not to mention the fact that this precarious situation is easily guessed from what I’ve noted in this same letter and have told you in others about how much worse the Monday market and the fair on the first of each month have been. These resources, which were once silver mines for Villavieja and subsequently declined greatly, continue to this day from bad to worse. It is clear that the disease is affecting the people of La Aldea, our farming district, in due proportion; and you will see this malaise of this important guild clearly reflected in the plain, so flourishing and pompous years ago. “The Englishman from the mine, an accounting engineer and man of much worldliness, said that it was quite remarkable that the people of Villavieja, so indolent and apathetic when it came to improvements and useful local progress, were so cheerful, so joyful, even boisterous, and so _sensitive_ and brittle-skinned in everything else . And he was speaking the pure truth. A resident of Villaveja with a Viso will shrug his shoulders when he sees half his roof collapse, and will lose sleep if that same night it has been shown to him at the Casino that his Levisac is more than two seasons behind the clock of the latest fashion. Oh! In this and other similar matters, the residents of Villaveja are terrible, especially the women. We have worldliness, we have classes, we have distinguished and vulgar people; hours of tone and vulgar hours; and if we can’t do it with rich fabrics, we imitate with percale the shape and colors of the dress that, according to the fashion magazine received by the Notaries or those of Codillo, a great Parisian lady wore at a certain reception at the Élysée. For these and similar difficulties, there is a regular contingent of seamstresses here with a sense of dressmaking, who go to great lengths to convince their demanding customers not to order their dresses from the capital, which is fourteen leagues away. And the Riojan tailor is equally sleepless, and for the same reason ; because the elegant men here are almost less distinguished than the distinguished women. “The ones who are most distinguished now are the aforementioned Escribanas and de Codillo. The former, so called because they are daughters of the late notary Garduño, who left quite a bit of money, although not as much as people suppose, are three and their mother: the latter is short and fat, and the former are tall and thin, not bad-looking, but not pretty either. They get angry over every little thing, and often quarrel with each other in the street, in low voices, but very suffocated and angry. The Codillos, daughters of Don Eusebio Codillo, the owner of the Café de la Marina on Cantón Street, now rented to a man from Murcia, are five in number and very unequal in color, height , and flesh; but they all have a certain gait, a certain smile, and a certain… well, and, above all, the airs of prominent and wealthy young ladies, which are frightening. Codillo, who was always a money-spinning tool and sponge, now takes to squandering it on the family and even accompanying them dressed to the nines. He is deputy mayor and widowed, and that saves him, because his wife was a beast even at tying up a penny. With less wealth than these two families and with their affairs in order at home, they are in the same class, first of all, the two granddaughters of the Indiano, that swagger you knew when you were old. The heir, his son Martín, ate up half of the inheritance in two years, and with the other Half of him courted a supposedly rich woman in distant lands, who turned out to be quite poor after her marriage, but very vain. She is alive, and he died; and with the little he left, the three females of the house are very tight-lipped and strapped for cash. After them, or rather, on a par with them, are the _Corvejonas_, so called because they are daughters of Don Aniceto Martínez Liendres, _Corvejón_ by nickname, inherited from his father, who was a blacksmith and farrier with the same nickname, as you will recall. Aniceto was a successful cattle dealer; he married quite well to the daughter of another Asturian dealer, and there you have him with his _don_ as a house; and although his fortune has been reduced by more than half, with such a chimney that he can’t even breathe. “Next to the _Corvejonas_ are the _Pelagatas_… But what good are you going to get out of the list I draw up, if all those people are new and unknown to you, without precedents of name or roots in the entire town? You’ll get to know them when you come, if you want to, the same as those in the lower hierarchy, those labeled as vulgar by the first, and, as such vulgar, despised. “Meanwhile, you should know that, for a short time now, the niece of your brother-in-law, Doña Lucrecia’s husband, has been fluctuating between the two categories, with symptoms of falling into the first. Since this illustrious man from Villaveja began to get really rich, he lavishly supported the family that remained here: his mother and a sister, the latter married to a farmer from the Aldea neighborhood where they lived and were farmers themselves. The old woman died, leaving the young couple with a little girl, now settled in the center of town and living off their income, or rather, off the Mexican’s pension. They placed the girl in Doña Eustoquia’s “school”; she wasn’t a cobblestone, nor was she ugly; she toughened up quite a bit there; later she managed to roughen and polish her mother a bit, who desperately needed it; the father died of typhoid fever, because idleness and the good manger had made him a little drunk and somewhat addicted to drink; the girl grew up and became a proper, good-looking girl; the widow took her just like that… and to this day she’s been like a dream. They both know that your nephew is coming this summer, and they say he’ll stay at their house when he stops in Villavieja, and since he loves you so much… “Who knows what might happen?” So let all this serve as your government: one, for your satisfaction, and the other, in case you’ve thought of preparing a fourth al mejicanillo in Peleches. “Now speaking seriously again, I add to what I’ve said about the women of Villavieja, who have four tabla balls a year to display themselves in all their pomp: one, the most solemn, the traditional one at the Town Hall on the day of the town’s patron saint, and three at the Casino, two of them during Carnival and one at Easter. All of them in the hall and with long trains, not of dresses, but of disappointments: for some, because they weren’t invited; for those who were invited, because many of the “savory” ones who were must not have been. The same thing happens when there are artistic and literary evenings at the Casino and the local young poets read , and the young ladies who understand it play the piano. After the festivities, there are always eight long days of gossip and disappointments. Therefore, if you look closely, the place where the youth of both sexes have the best time during the winter is at the competitive gatherings held by the Escribanas and the Codillo women, and sometimes the Corvejonas. Each of them invites “their friends,” and no one has the right to complain if they are neither invited nor “friends” of the house. The fashionable promenades are, in winter and in bad weather, the Arches of the square; and in sunny weather, the Chopera de la Campada; in summer, the same Arches in the first case, and in the second, the Glorieta de la Costanilla, the best promenade in Villavieja, as you know, because it almost borders Peleches, overlooking the beach and the sea on one side, the plain on the other, and the town on the other; and it does not dominate the fourth, that is, the south as much. as well as the opposite, because Peleches is there, dominating everything, even the Glorieta. “The popular times for ladies to go for a walk in all seasons of the year are late afternoon and after high mass on holidays… On workdays, people don’t go for a walk: they wander around the town on any pretext, or _they walk_, like ordinary mortals, wherever they want or can. “As an eternal protest against all these similar ceremonies, there remain the miserable remnants of those few families of relative ancestry, who in the days of our youth were the glory and ornament of the town. They take pleasure in attending in rags where the others are very dressed up, or in not attending at all, such as at their balls, or in being very nice in different places and at different times. Thus they protest; but they do not succeed, because the law of the majority prevails in the end. “This letter is getting too long, and I still have to talk to you about the men; Not much, because the same thing would happen to you with those who buzz and “set the tone” as with equivalent women: you wouldn’t recognize them even if I were to name them one by one. There are classes too, and the distinguished and the vulgar among them, and distances, therefore, that are maintained even at the Casino on a daily basis. This will suffice for you; you have more than enough worldliness, skill, and wisdom to deduce the rest. The Casino is the alma mater of them all. The highest and the lowest, the vulgar and the distinguished, end up there , day and night; And if the establishment hasn’t been put down a single tack since you knew him, where it still remains, above the Bazaar del Papagayo, it’s not for lack of regular customers, but because, more or less distinguished, everyone who passes by is made of Villavejan material, for you already know the virtue they have in this matter of letting things work themselves out, although there are those who claim that in the comfort of the house they would spend a little more if they gambled a little less, and not so often, in the famous leonera, the hiding place of society where the members pluck each other’s hands daily like gentlemen. “I already mentioned to you in passing that there were young poets here, who read at certain evenings. It’s true; and they also bustle and speak in the arcades of the plaza, and at the door of the Collegiate Church when people enter or leave, and in the Glorieta, and in the Chopera, and in the Casino and wherever there is an audience to hear them. They’d even had attempts at a weekly newspaper; but the lack of a printing press in the town spoiled their fun. Someone among them later had the idea of ​​signing his autograph and reproducing the copies with a copying press, like those used in commerce, and so it was done, with great success and resonance throughout the town. The newspaper was already beginning to cause displeasure among many of the families mentioned by the boys when Tinito Maravillas arrived home from the University, about a year ago now. He’s a tiny, pale, and lank youngster with glasses, mouse-like hair, and transparent sideburns. He wears a black jacket and a cane every day. He’s the son of a local tavern keeper, somewhat rebellious, who has half-ruined himself to give him a degree, because from the moment Tinito Agustín began to speak, he had the feeling that he showed great talent and would become a marvel if properly educated. Tinito believed it too, and it’s a wonder he considers himself after his graduation, and it’s a wonder his father has proclaimed him and continues to proclaim him in the tavern and everywhere, and he is called _Maravillas_ everywhere. For this Maravillas, who had made himself known here during all the vacation seasons, now stands out outrageously, particularly among his contemporaries, for what he knows and for his way of thinking. He frightened the boys from the autograph newspaper. Villavieja needed, in its pitiful state of drowsiness, something more than couplets and gossip. He had written in freethinking magazines of great importance, and he knew what those things were. If they wanted his collaboration, he had no problem lending it. But on the condition that the newspaper be directed by him and published in print; which wasn’t difficult to print in the capital. The proposal was seductive, and they’ve been working on it ever since. Tinito speaks little, almost nothing; but he shows himself everywhere, with his little head held high and a smile on his face that’s somewhere between compassionate and disdainful. He doesn’t go to mass, of course; and if you ask him why, he makes a little gesture of astonishment, still smiling, and doesn’t answer any more. He hears talk of God, little smile; he hears talk of kings, little smile; in short, he hears talk of everything common in towns governed by laws, customs, and habits, to which you and I are accustomed, little smile. His father is drooling over these things about Maravillas, especially when he sees him disparaging, in his own way, the old bad habit of “the classes,” so deeply rooted in Villavieja; And Maravillas, meanwhile, being hesitant to say whose son he is, and clinging like a limpet to what is considered the aristocracy of the population here, who don’t know, at the present time, whether to fear him, admire him, or laugh at him; because in Villavieja there has always been very little enthusiasm for political and philosophical ideas. The most exalted here still doesn’t go beyond historical progressivism, just as the Duke of la Victoria left it when he returned to Logroño in 1856. “However, the young apostle hasn’t preached entirely in the desert since Licentiate came from Madrid. He already has some almost enthusiastic supporters, among the seafarers and shoemakers, to whom he deigns to speak, from time to time, about Compte, Büchner, and Lombroso, assuring them in passing that he knows every word of experimental science, the broom and scourge of the old theological and metaphysical world. “I think there would be beatings at the Casino if Maravillas were to speak so forcefully there, because just his appearance and his little smile are a constant source of indigestion for certain and specific temperaments: one of them is the prosecutor, for sure; and very likely, the apothecary’s son, who is atrociously sincere, hasty… and strong-willed, and spends his free time playing billiards with the Naval Aide, who is always unemployed. He has no other vice; but a terrible cue. “The prosecutor has been in this court for four years, and he’s a subject worthy of study. He’s from Aragon, a bachelor and still young, but somewhat washed up. He hates the profession as much as he hates the town, and he doesn’t even try to hide it. His accusations are invectives and beatings against everything he’s involved in, even the law, which doesn’t give him everything he needs to carry out his duties as he pleases. For him, there are no extenuating or exonerating circumstances. He always asks for the maximum sentence for all kinds of crimes. When he talks about Villavieja, he accuses her in the same way, because he’s eager to be thrown out of the race and out of here. He uses every nickname that no one ever gives him, because he’s so well-liked. He has talent and charm and he allows himself to be loved, because, after all, he’s a very esteemed lizard, a good man, and very pleasant to deal with. He used to play tresillo a lot; now he can be found spending most of the night and part of the afternoon smoking and drinking coffee at a table near the billiard table, watching the apothecary’s son and the Navy Aide play, talking with them in his own way at times, and at times with two lawyers and a doctor, young men, among the most cultured and sociable there are here, and with me, who usually accompany him… “To conclude, my lord Don Alejandro: the pigs continue rolling in the unpaved streets, and the chickens pecking at the grass of the paved plaza; The historic mansion, called _the Capellanes_, collapsed in April of last year; what remains of the Premonstratensian convent is poorly supported with props; the north facade of the Town Hall is going to be shored up, and on Cáncamo Street a chasm suddenly opened, three years ago in February, and it remains unfilled at the present time. “With this and what can be guessed, you now know almost as much about Villavieja as your very obliged and affectionate friend, Qlblm. CLAUDIO FUERTES Y LEÓN. Chapter 5. Fifteen days later. That morning, Don Alejandro rose almost as early as the sun, and yet it was one of the longest days of June, one of the “Saint John’s Day” days. He hadn’t slept a wink all night; not for fear of thieves or for missing his bed, but because of the itch of mischievous curiosity that kept him on edge. In case the same thing had happened to Nieves, he approached the door of his study, pressed his ear to the lock, and, indeed, Nieves was stirring inside. “Nieves!” he called, trembling with pleasure. “Papa!” replied Nieves’s silvery voice. “I’m just finishing getting ready… I’ll be right there. ” “Aha! But tell me: have you kept your word? ” “As if I’m dressing almost in the dark. ” “That’s how it’s done, baskets!” Well, look: now, with so little left, let’s not ruin it with a nasty temptation. Stand firm with her if she attacks, eh? Nieves’s frank laughter was heard very close to the door, which shortly opened, admitting the little Sevillian wrapped in a loose white dressing gown, with all the thick, fine hair of her golden-blond hair draped over her back. “So you can see I’m not fooling you,” she said to her father, pointing to the back of the study, “look how dark it is.” Indeed, the only light to be seen inside was that which filtered through the cracks in the closed shutters with their hasps over the corresponding glass panes: just enough to walk around there without stumbling. Then it was Don Alejandro who laughed. “What things we so-called formal men have!” he said. ” Well, look: they are trifles and even seem like foolish things; But they have their charm, and what the hell is left of life’s pleasure if you take away those recreations? Isn’t that so? Well, you fellows, whoever laughed at us now would be a great fool. “You see that they are,” said Nieves, following her father’s humor. “But tell me,” she added, “am I also forbidden to look here?” “Not here,” Don Alejandro responded very formally, “because this has very little to do with it. You take charge: since chance brought you to Peleches for the first time after dark, the fun of it for me lies in estimating for myself the effect produced on you by what I put before your eyes, and which is not seen every day or everywhere . Do you understand? Well, that’s all there is to it.” But wait a bit… “Catana!” “Catana!” Don Alejandro shouted this from the door leading to the hallway, so that the woman from Ronda, for that was her name, would come. “I have my bit of vanity,” he said to Nieves as the woman from Quintaño came in, “that this Andalusian hedgehog, who since he came out of the earth hasn’t set his sights on anything that seems good to him, will learn to look properly at what can be seen from here, until he suddenly dies of amazement and wonder. ” At this point, Catana arrived, with her gray head, her sallow complexion, her wild black eyes, her everlasting flowered Indian dress, and her black silk shawl with its corners tied at the back. “What do you mean, your grace?” he asked from the doorway. “What have you seen,” her master asked her, “of all the things there are to see from this house? ” “Nothing, sir.” “What do you mean, nothing?” “Nothing… nothing and worse than nothing; because I peeked out of the line, while I was bustling about, through a little window on this side, and I saw everything black, and I said: ‘Well, brother, for a small and bad chance, to the jewel…’ And I didn’t want to see any more. ” “Well, stay here by our side,” said Bermúdez after laughing with Nieves at Catana’s joke, who always spoke with the utmost seriousness, “so that you can die soon and once and for all, as I please.” And let’s get to it, starting with the inside because that’s the worst part. This room we’re in, as I told you last night, do you remember Nieves? It’s the reception room , that is, the dais. You see, because of its size… eh? you could run horses on it. You already heard about that last night, but not about the paintings because of the lack of light… nor about the black chestnut flooring with Patches of goatee. Look at those doors: oak, with their small pane of glass arranged in threes in their corresponding quarters. Their style is different in every era. This Purísima, so battered, is a copy of one by Murillo, and they say it wasn’t bad when my paternal great-grandfather brought it from Madrid. This portrait following it on the left is of my father, and the other on the right is of my mother. They are the work of a painter who was taking views in these parts, starving. That’s how they look. These four on this side are painted by the same brush and from the same period: Hector, Achilles… Damn! It seems I’m going to tell you about the siege of Troy… Things of my father. Well, they are my brothers and my sister Lucrecia, and me; I still without a beard, but with my two good eyes… with which you still gave me, Catana, in a time very memorable for me… But let’s not talk about this, canástoles, it’s very bitter and very hard to digest… Current. “Well, if I tell you that these six portraits cost my father forty duros and the painter’s lodging, which was still considered lavishly paid, I’ll tell you all there is to say about the merit of his brush. ” ​​”And this gentleman with the long wig and embroidered jacket, who is he?” Nieves asked. “That’s, I mean, that was Don Cristóbal Bermúdez Peleches, my fourth grandfather, and founder of the estate at the beginning of the last century. He held the office of General Intendant in Mexico for many years, and from there he came rolling in gold; he married in Madrid a lady from the illustrious Pacheco family, and built this house on the more modest, though no less noble, one in which he was born… But you’ve heard me speak of this illustrious ancestor of ours many times, as well as of this other who follows him, with the robes of a priest and the medal of the Inquisition hanging around his neck.” He was an inquisitor, also in Mexico, and he brought from there these cornucopias you see around the room next to the ceiling cornice. He considers them something remarkable, although they don’t appear so at first glance. This vargueño, so moth-eaten, was also brought from Mexico by the same inquisitor… Have you noticed the stalls, eh? You’ve probably noticed that he doesn’t play with the vargueño or the cornucopias, nor does he take honor with such distinguished origins. It’s some of the worst cabinetmaking that has been done and styled in this land. Still , it has great merit in my eyes for the memories it brings back to me… Are you getting the picture too, you tasteless gypsy? “Yes, sir,” replied the woman from Ronda, very gravely and with her eyes wide open. ” Well, on to something else, because the room is finished… I’m going to show you something from the outside now , but of the lesser quality; what corresponds to the southern facade, which is where the three balconies of it look out upon, that is, this one I’m going to open, another one in my study, and another one in yours, Nieves… That’s where the least beautiful part of the view lies. From the tower platform, I would have shown it to you so that you could enjoy it without obstructions on all sides; but, according to my friend Fuertes, the platform is in a state of look-at-me-but-don’t-touch-me mode, not to mention that the tower is missing half a staircase, exactly the lower half… But that and other similar difficulties will be remedied. Nieves and Catana, while Don Alejandro was speaking thus, after looking at what was revealed straight ahead and without effort, wanted to go out onto the balcony to look to the sides. “Little by little,” Don Alejandro told them, restraining them; “you are only allowed to look straight ahead, and from there, are we there? The rest will be seen from wherever it should be seen.” For now, the facade is made of ashlar like the one to the east… There’s no need to see it, ladies, because I can confirm it, just as I can confirm that above each of the three balconies on this floor, there’s a smaller one with a pulpit, each with a coat of arms on the two main panels… I said, be quiet, there’s still time for you to verify what I’m saying… and go look. Here, below, a little bit of garden, quite hidden, because the truth is that until I ordered it to be dressed up a bit, counting on the fact that you were coming, no one has taken care of it for many years. What is now a regular wall with a door “Barred, it was in _ears temporas_, as the _poencos_ of your Serranía say, oh, gypsy! almost a wall of a site with its corresponding gate; as it was a patio with an oven and a well that are still preserved, as you can see, and I don’t know how many accessories, this that at present is a garden. After the little road that passes in front of the door, another fence, with trees, meadow and tilled land, which sinks little by little as it moves away, the same as the strip of pines that surrounds it on our left. It is, as it were, the garden of this house… The land rises again after a very long hollow, but with another rougher and wilder appearance, and ends in a large greenish-black stain that spreads from one side to the other… “That stain was the black thing I saw,” said Catana, unable to contain himself. –Well, that black stain, my lady… a thing of insubstantial wonder, is a magnificent pine forest, and rightfully my property, like the orchard and what follows… are we? And although it’s somewhat sad in color, it’s not something that anyone should become sick looking at, much less a wild beast of certain thickets that I know. Isn’t that true, Nieves? Be frank, you who paint a picture and understand more than Catana about these things. Look carefully: here the lushness of the orchard; then the dirty green slope; then the almost black pine forest; then a gray, shaved, stony hill; and at the very end, a blue mountain. Doesn’t this whole ensemble have its own special beauty? Besides, I’ve announced it to you as the least beautiful part of the panorama, and you can’t, in good conscience, deceive yourselves now… And that’s the end of this first issue of the program… On to another one right away… and let these doors remain open so that the whole house may be flooded with God’s grace … This way, through this passageway… Stop at this door on the left, and be very careful not to twist your foot in any crack in the walls inside. Since the room has a balcony, the only opening there is on the corresponding facade, the one facing northwest, the wintering birds sneak in through it as if they came to Peleches for no other purpose than that. Since it’s so high and so brazen!… No one has ever been able to live in this room. Be careful, I repeat, be very careful where you step… There! It’s wide open now , I mean, these shreds of door have been separated now. “Stand here, Nieves, and you on this other side, Catana… Come on, what is there to say to this?… Don’t look at this first end, which is arid and rugged, like all coastal terrain, but at the rest, the flat area, which is the Villavieja plain, green here, brown there, dotted with hamlets, then gray heights and green heights, and bare mountains and dark hills… Do you see a little white line, far away, winding for a while around the edge of the plain and then disappearing between two small hills? Well, that’s the main road. Do you see another little line crossing the plain on this side to the left, heading for the same two hills where the road disappears? Well, that’s the path that connects Villavieja with it. That’s how we came in last night; only that when we reach the entrance to the village, we take another path that goes up to Peleches along this slope… See him here crawling beneath the very balcony we’re standing on… Eh? How is he? It seems to me, lady of the mountains, that there are no shadows here to kill or frighten certain fearful and delicate little hearts… It’s all quite clear, open, luminous, and varied wherever you look… Come on, say yes or no, as Christ teaches us. “And de zu mercé la vega tamién?” Catana asked his master, instead of answering. “A good part of it,” Bermúdez replied, a little annoyed. “But what does one have to do with the other? Do you have a hunch, Nieves?” Nieves, all eyes and breath, freely enjoying the light and aromas that filled the countryside, sensing the malice involved in Catana’s question, answered her father’s, smiling with the Ronda native: “It’s just like any other of his, not to lie. He’s afraid you’ll be sorry if he tells you he doesn’t like it… at least as much as…” “Just like the Serranía of always, right,” Don Alejandro concluded. “That’s what I’m doing,” Catana confirmed, looking at Nieves with his head slightly bowed. “And you also share his opinion, my daughter? ” “Not me, Papa,” Nieves answered immediately and without the slightest hint of deceiving him. “That is to say: for now, I like this very, very much; the thing is, I don’t know of anything else that Catana thinks is better, and that could be it. Isn’t that right, Catana? ” “Asín,” Catana responded, emphasizing the word with his head. “Well, I’m going to put Her Ladyship Macarena right now,” said Bermúdez, pushing the two women inside, “in front of something that can’t be seen from over there, no matter how much the tallest mountain man raises his face … Baskets of my grandmother’s niceties and the strain of comparison!… Down the hall on the right to the opposite door… This room, Nieves, I didn’t want to show you last night, because it was still being arranged when you went to bed; I already told you. It’s where Don Claudio has put the most effort into it, and the one he’s given the most to do since your study. It’s been papered, painted, and almost tiled again … Look at it. Here’s the piano, the supplies for painting and needlework , books, drawings… in short, your artist’s studio and your industrious little living room.” Now all you have to do is walk by and look, and don’t even thank me for the things that are escaping from your eyes and mouth. First of all, it’s not worth it, and secondly, we came here for very different reasons… At one, at two… There it is, and die now, gypsy, because your time has come!… Further out still, the two of them: here, on the very railing of the balcony… That’s it. Look, and have your fill! Nieves burst into exclamations of enthusiasm, and Catana, with her eyes wide open, remained like a statue. Don Alejandro enjoyed himself like a child in the ecstasy of the two of them. “Spread leagues of sea!” he began, “ahead of you, to the right, to the left: endless on all sides, except for this one where Peleches’s box is located, where the Bermúdezes can enjoy contemplating that marvel of God… And don’t come out now with the idea that you’ve seen the sea in Cádiz or Bonanza, you baskets! because I don’t admit the comparison. It may be a sea, as are many other seas that could be cited; but they are not this, neither for their size, nor for their beauty, nor for being as if hanging from the roof, right at the balcony door, to delight your eyes when you open them in bed. And it’s no good lying… Do you see that parapet on the right, Nieves? Well, it’s one of the two clear ones in your study. Do you see this other one on the left?” Well, it belongs to the study that has the entrance through the dining room… the one reserved for what you know… So I’m not wrong when I tell you that from the bed itself you can recreate your view of this wonder. It’s as flat and peaceful now as a mirror’s glass, and it’s a pleasure to see the sparks of the slowly rising sun jump and sparkle on it; but I don’t know if I should tell you that I prefer it and like it better when its nostrils swell … Ah, dry-land lizard! Here I would like to see you when that plain ripples and roars and drools and begins to rear, and throws its mane in the air, and no longer fits in its ring, and charges against the barriers bellowing at full speed, and shears itself edge by edge, and falls again , and charges again this way, that way, and in fifty places at once … God, what roars those were, and what foaming and what!… Then it is not blue as it is now, oh!… the anger turns it purple… In short, it has a lot to do with it… And all this, and however rough the sea may be, the port, that little corner on the left, is the same as a glass of water. And it is well explained: its interior contours are like two curves in parenthesis: one, the one over there, much more prominent than the other; so that on that side there is a wall, a cape that serves as a breakwater for the northwest, which is where the great storms of this coast always come from; and since those from the Levant are very rare, Imagine that sleeping in this port is like sleeping in bed. “But where are the ships?” asked Nieves. “What ships, daughter? ” “The ones in the port. I don’t see any. ” “That’s a different story… Don’t you remember what I read to you in Seville about this, from Don Claudio’s letter? ” “It’s true: there’s only one steamer… when there is one. Well, it’s not there now. ” “We don’t know; because the projection of the tower prevents us from seeing the anchorage, which is very close to the town. From the other side we’ll see it, along with all the surrounding panorama we still have to see… ” “Oh, Papa!” Nieves suddenly exclaimed, “how much I would enjoy running around in a little boat over those blue plains!” “Come on!” the woman from Ronda jumped, shuddering, “so that the girl would be ruined at best…” One-eyed Bermúdez burst out laughing and said: “I like that you are tempted by that desire, Nieves, and I promise to satisfy it very often, without the risks that frighten Catana… Look at a steamer… ” “Where? ” “On the horizon… Look carefully at the spot I’m pointing at. ” “I can see it now… Do you see it, Catana? ” “I can’t see it, girl. ” “Don’t you see a plume of smoke over a black spot? ” “Aha! I’ll point it out right now… ” “And don’t you see some little white specks over here, like little triangles of paper? ” “Yes, I can see them,” Nieves responded. “Well, they’re fishing boats. ” “So far away? ” “I think so! ” “And where are they from?” –Of the ports on this coast… God knows which one… Because , mind you, it’s a long line, eh?… Run your eyes over it from end to end… At least forty leagues. –Jezú! –And I won’t lose an inch, lady from Ronda… And by the way, when are you going to stop dying? Why haven’t you died yet? –Of what, sir? –Of astonishment. –With your grace’s permission,–answered the mountain woman,–I’ll stay a little while longer: until the next fright. –Which one? –The mayó that your grace has given me. –So what you’re seeing seems little to you? –Psch… Just like that, just like that. –Come on, Nieves, it’s really worth killing her. “Don’t let this sarcastic woman’s phlegm bother you,” said Nieves, pinching her on the arm closest to her right hand. ” Even if it wasn’t all a lie, here I am, amazed by both of us… ” “I believe it, and that consoles me and saves her from misfortune… And now, let’s go to the other facade to see what remains; the marvel of this side will remain here waiting for you, no matter how long it takes you to savor it again… Follow me, I’m already walking along the same path that brought us here… Turn right now… This is the entrance to the kitchen and its accessories… This is the door to the dining room… Another four-story like the living room… eh, Nieves? You saw it last night… The study I told you about before… A balcony and two parapets… Let’s go to the balcony… This view isn’t bad either, is it, Nieves? ” “Beautiful!” answered Nieves enthusiastically. “I believe it!” her father added. “Part of the sea we saw from that other side, and the entire harbor… Look, there’s the dock with… one, two, three… three little boats, or whatever they are, because they can’t be clearly distinguished at such a great distance. Not a sign of a steamer, my child. Well , look from the dock toward the land: the whole town, with its farmers’ quarter, which looks like a Moroccan village; behind the village, the estuary with its rushes, where the river that has come down from those heights, brushing against a good portion of the plain, flows into. You can’t see its channel ; but you can clearly see that strip of steamers rising and falling with the sun, the abundance of trees, and a certain greenness of the land… Consider how gracefully Villavieja lies within its own channel. She’s as ugly as a demon, seen street by street and house by house; But seen as a whole, even its soot color is pleasing. The part here, which is on a slope, although gentle, is not We can see the whole thing, because the edge of the plateau on which we are standing now blocks us from doing so, at quite a distance; but we can see something of the main area… almost the entire Collegiate Church and a few of the first buildings on the Costanilla, which starts this way from the same side of the Collegiate Church and is the most used route for coming from the town to Peleches and to the Paseo de la Glorieta, which is that kind of avenue you see two steps from the entrance to this courtyard, a little to the right. The walk is beautiful, because of its scrubby trees; and the view from it and the salty air that refreshes it in summer are priceless. At the far end, a path descends that leads to the dock without touching the town itself. The path is called the Mirador, because this name is given to that distant end of the plateau through which it passes and suddenly drops downhill… Turning now to things of lesser importance, to take note of everything, here, plumb, there is another patio belonging to the house, with its corresponding fence and entrance. That shed is the chicken coop; the one after it is a woodshed, and this other one opposite, with the honors of a cottage with half of its belly outside the enclosure, is a stable and a hayloft… Later, I’ll show you the ground floor and the upper floor, and even the attics, so you can get your bearings inside the venerable Peleches dovecote. Below, you’ll see the Oratory, which, according to reports and at my earnest request, is in good and serviceable condition. If we find a priest, he’ll say mass for us there ; if not, we’ll go hear it at the Collegiate Church, which isn’t far away… weather permitting; because if it doesn’t, we’ll do our part with good intentions . Nieves looked at everything with even rapture, and listened to her father with rapture. Catana, with her arms one upon the other, according to her eternal custom when she had nothing to do with them, and with her head slightly tilted, wandered her black and wild eyes from the things pointed out to Don Alejandro, and from Don Alejandro to Nieves, always avoiding the collision of his gaze with the ray of her own; but very much possessed by the scene and perhaps, perhaps, joyful, although she did not declare it. “If I lived here long,” continued the good Bermúdez, ” I would arrange things so that you, my daughter, would derive from these singular advantages that surround Peleches all the interest and substance that they are capable of giving, to make your life not only bearable, but delightful. I would have, for example, a light and safe vessel, to recreate you and us in the pleasures of the sea; I would have that poor road that unites us with the State road converted, or I would convert at my own expense, into a proper causeway; We would have a comfortable carriage to take us back and forth through those God-given regions, so worthy of a visit, instead of the infamous carts available now due to the condition of our hellish roads; I would have… who knows what I would have, in my ardent desire to see you joyful, happy, and healthy in the home of our ancestors! But you must resolve this yourself; your absolute and sovereign resolution remains. Let it be recorded, with the somewhat suspicious testimony of a certain black-haired woman from Ronda who is listening to us, bursting at the seams to declare that all her land of smuggler wolves is not worth a handful of whatever is caught in the saddest part of what can be seen from Peleches. In the meantime, we will make use of the resources we have at our disposal today; And with them alone, I promise you, my daughter, that if you persevere in your good intentions, you will not be bored for a minute here, no matter how loud the thunder may be, God grant us health… Now, for now, please be so kind, Señora Catana, as to order that breakfast be served to us immediately ; and with the strength you give us, and while we eat, or after dinner, we will draw up the plan of campaign for today, or for the whole fortnight, if it suits you and me. Isn’t that right, Nieves?… Well, let’s go inside. But wait a bit and hear my last word, as they say now: scanning with our eyes the immeasurable expanse of these horizons, and breathing in the atmosphere, half earthy, half salty, that fills the entire panorama, and enlivens and magnifies the spectacle with its marvelous terms and details. Is it not true that one feels stronger and more satisfied? That if one has sorrows, one forgets them? That if one is dominated by grudges, one silences them? That if one vacillates between what is true and what is false, between what is useful and what is pernicious, between what is trivial and what is great, the naked and clear truth is suddenly, as if by miracle, revealed to oneself? That , finally, not an idea that smacks of the ignoble, nor a desire that is not honorable, assails us? Answer me frankly. He was immediately told yes; and satisfied with the reply, Don Alejandro Bermúdez began his march inside, saying to the two women, with the greatest enthusiasm, as if he had never said it to them before: “There’s no escape! Give me pure air, and I’ll give you rich blood.” give me… When she said the last word of this well-known thesis, Nieves was already seated at the dining room table, waiting for breakfast; the woman from Ronda was in the kitchen waiting for the cook to finish preparing her breakfast, and Don Claudio Fuertes y León was approaching the opposite passageway, wondering why the illustrious owners and lords of the Peleches mansion had gotten up so early. Chapter 6. Among good friends. Señor Don Claudio! You couldn’t have arrived more on time or at a better time… Catana!… Catana!… Coffee? Hot chocolate? Something with a fork?… Honestly, Don Claudio: whatever you fancy most and best suits you at this hour… Catana!… “But, Señor Don Alejandro, I don’t usually have breakfast until later!” I came here so early in the morning to find out from your servants, while you were resting, what it was that you had missed most last night, so that I could arrange a remedy in time. How could I have suspected that after the fatigue of the journey?… “Well, you’ll see. What if I told you that we’ve been walking around the house for over an hour now, from room to room and from balcony to balcony, looking here and wondering there?” “Is it possible?” ” And why shouldn’t it be?” “In your opinion, you’re more experienced, you’re from here, and you’re perfectly within your rights; but this young lady… ” “You’re on to something! When I got up, she was already back, so to speak. Isn’t that true, Nieves? It should also be noted that before going to bed last night we had agreed to a certain agreement… But let her say if the early morning has bothered her… ” “So she liked Peleches’s situation? ” “Oh, very much so!” –Well, I’m infinitely pleased; because I feared the opposite. –Why, recanástoles? –Well, accustomed to the beauty and bustle of a city like Seville, there would be nothing unusual about suddenly finding oneself in such solitude… –So where there is solitude, there is no room for beauty… Will you shut up, you idiot? Don’t pay attention to this, Nieves… Well, man, this idea cracks me up! From here to heaven, Señor Don Claudio… And don’t retort, to shut me up, that I have shown little enthusiasm for the wonders of Peleches by turning my back on them for so many years; because I have said it well, why it has been and how much I have deplored it… Are you there? Well, now tell us what you’re going to have, because Catana is eager to know so he can serve you in the air… –Well! Well, since it has to be… the same as you have. –You heard it, Catana: the same as us… And now answering a certain indirect question you asked us, I tell you that far from missing anything in this house for our comfort, we have found everything in its place and full of reasons for gratitude and applause for your foresight, your success… in short, you have worked miracles… Isn’t that so, Nieves? –Absolutely true, Don Claudio… Nothing is missing here. –Please note, miss, that I have done nothing but follow your father’s orders to the best of my ability… In any case, I am glad I was not mistaken… But do you really like this, Nieves? “—Truly, Don Claudio: I swear to you… And why shouldn’t I like it? ” “Because of what I told you before. This is so different from that! ” “Well, it’s because of that difference that I like this. ” “Aha!… Take that and come back for another… ” “So you’re satisfied?” “Very satisfied. ” “And willing to take advantage of?” “Everything, Don Claudio. And if you weren’t, why come here? ” “On the same blond ones, Mr. Fuertes!… and go on and tell the tale. You ‘ve got the idea that Nieves was a squalid little girl who lived on spun egg and sugared alfeñique, and was short of breath as soon as she was taken out of the oven… You’re largely assuming that! ” “I didn’t assume that much, Mr. Don Alejandro; but somewhere between the two extremes… And anyway, I’m truly glad that Miss Nieves is the way she is.” And I needn’t tell you that, not only out of duty, but with great pleasure, I place myself at your service from now on to serve you, to accompany you… “We’ve already allowed ourselves to take that factor into account in the calculations we’ve been making along the way; but, innocent of God, do you know who you’re dealing with? Do you know the spirit, the vigor, and the purpose that lie in that little body that is embraced around the waist with the key of the hand? Oh, my friend Don Claudio! You and I, for soup and good wine. ” “Little by little about that, my lord Don Alejandro. You will know at what pace life is moving inside you; but not the one who carries mine through mine. ” “Well, man, since you’re throwing it at me like a planchette, I’ll tell you that there the two of us will come out on top, as we come out in years, one after the other. ” “That’s not a rule, Don Alejandro.” “Especially when you factor in the fat beak you get out of me.” –Me to you? –Here, and you wonder, canástoles! –I believe it! –Well, you’re a fool… –How old are you, then, or rather, how old do you think you are? –Not even fifty-eight… –At least sixty-two… –Ave Maria Purísima!… Don’t pay attention to him, Nieves! –In any case, it doesn’t matter to him, because you shouldn’t be wooing young girls anymore; but this is a calculation that’s made up in the air and with the fingers. –Well, you’re already working it out. –When I came to Villavieja for the first time… –What! Aren’t you from here, Don Claudio? –No, madam. Didn’t you know? –You must have forgotten, because I think I told you. –I don’t remember. –I’m from Astorga. –From Astorga? –Yes, madam: where the great mantecadas are from… –And the Maragatos, canástoles, with their bellows panties. “Yes, sir, quite an honor. ” “Then how did you come from so far? ” “It would be best if you told him everything, Don Claudio; because, as I see, he’s lost the affiliation I’ve given him several times. ” “Yes, and to divert attention from a certain outstanding score. ” “Has he seemed like a trickster?… As if it mattered to me no more than to him to settle it properly! ” “We’ll see about that, my lord Don Alejandro, because everything will happen. For now, I’m going to satisfy Nieves’s curiosity in a few words, because being, although undeservedly, such a close friend of her father, it ‘s not right that he should be a man unknown to her… ” “Not quite that, no, Señor Don Claudio. ” “That’s just a figure of speech; and let’s get to it. I came to Villavieja as a lieutenant in the carabinieri: not a lackey, miss, but a junior officer, in the Infantry. Here I rose to captain and married a woman from Villavieja who was quite good- looking and not entirely poor.” Isn’t that true, Don Alejandro? –And you’re being modest. He was one of the best here… And let’s skip over that point, before it starts to hurt you as usual. –Well. I had two sons. That’s how the thing with Africa came about; I was tempted a little by patriotism and a little by ambition; I managed, under the table and without my wife knowing, to get sent there; I went, making it believing I was being forced to do so; I returned as a major after the war; I was assigned to Barcelona with the regiment to which I belonged; and torn between whether it was better for me to leave my family here or take them with me, I became a widow; I saw everything as one color, and that very black; all my ambitions suddenly dissipated; I asked for retirement, which was granted, and I remained in Villavieja, where I had lived for many years. My children had been born, and they owned, inherited from their mother, half a dozen tiles and four clods of earth. Shortly after, Señor Don Alejandro, who had always distinguished and honored me with his friendship, wished to honor and favor me again by granting me full powers to manage his estates here, which are quite a few. This further strengthened my roots in my poor wife’s land, roots that hadn’t been firmly established since my sons, now army officers, had gone to military college, and I found myself alone and unemployed. But one gets used to everything, Nieves, in this brief and thorny life. I’ve grown accustomed to my solitude, and have even come to find it relatively pleasant. I’m not usually melancholic: on the contrary, I’m considered a happy and joyful man. I don’t try to deny my reputation, in case it’s deserved, and, above all, because it costs me nothing; and so we go on living… and that’s how I am, no less and no more. So, do you know me now? –Although not with so many signs, I knew you well, and esteemed you as you deserve. –Thank you very much… and now let’s finish the point about ages, which was started before opening this parenthesis I just closed. –Bells, how that point worries you, man! Well, let’s suppose the calculations are made and you come out four years older, or that we both come out wrong; after all, what? No one is older than they look. “That, my lord Don Alejandro, may be, and please pardon me, a flight like any other from the field, and it is certainly not accurate; and besides, as an argument, it is very suspicious here. ” “Go on spreading the word! ” “Because there is plenty to hand. And as proof: you see me with this somewhat quixotic appearance, a little stiff, with gray hair and mustache… ” “Gray.” “Average: gray, while you, more fleshy than I, with shinier skin, your regular and well-crafted stature, so neat and well-kept, and your white sideburns so trimmed and brushed… ” “Gray, Don Claudio!… look at them carefully and let’s play fair. ” “Gray, average: let that little advantage go in your favor too: it matters little to me.” You notice this difference in ornamentation, nothing more than ornamentation, between the two facades, and you think that if they were brought out together into the plaza, yours would take precedence. Granted. But I immediately protest and challenge you to follow me with a shotgun on my shoulder, or with a cane in my hand, up the hills and mountains, into the roasting June sun or the January snows; and then the stains beneath the plaster are revealed , and that maxim fails; because it’s quite certain that by the time I begin to pant, you’re dying. “That would be obvious, you baskets!” “Of course, Señor Don Alejandro, of course… And finally, let Nieves put us to the test, or let me put myself alone in carrying out the plans that he apparently has made, using me as his guide and companion, which is where we started, and we will see if I am good enough or not for it, and who will fall first of the two, or last of the three, if you dare to accompany us… ” “I dare! And we will see each other there, handsome sir!” “Well, all you have to do is let me know.” “I will take you at your word, Señor Don Claudio, with Papa’s permission; and I will begin by ordering you to help us, today, to draw up the list of the expeditions that we are to make by land and on foot… ” “I repeat that I am at your command. ” “And by sea… ” “That changes, Nieves. I don’t understand a word about the sea. I have not embarked here six times in my life; and in three of them I worked my ass off, only for looking out at the mouth of the harbor. I’m from Astorga, and there’s nothing more to say. But don’t worry about the difficulty, because if you like the adventures of the sea… “Very much so! ” “You’ll have no shortage of ways to satisfy your taste. I’ll vouch for that. ” “Really, Don Claudio? ” “Like everything I promise, even if it’s wrong for me to say it. ” “You don’t know how happy the promise makes me!” “When I tell you, Nieves, that even the Caparrota incident was resolved… and look, look, even our breakfast, which was beginning to give me a lot to think about because of its delay. It’s here now… Thank you, Señora Catana: I know very well that the fault isn’t yours or the cook’s, but our getting up early, unexpectedly in the kitchen… There! Don Claudio, go in with that… Those rolls don’t look bad. Man, how are the breads here?” “Quite well, like meat and milk… and jams. ” “Well, we’re as we want them… If I tell you, Nieves, that this Peleches place is Jauja… ” “Let’s see, Señor Don Alejandro, and before I forget: I, perhaps delving deeper than I should have, in response to a question that some of your friends asked me yesterday, allowed myself to answer affirmatively. ” “If you don’t explain further… ” “I’ll get to it: the daughter, who, when she speaks of you with her friends, calls you “my uncle Alejandro,” and Nieves “my cousin Nieves…” ” Damn! ” “And who are these relatives, Papa? ” “Well, the sister and her daughter of your aunt Lucrecia’s husband. ” “I don’t see the relationship. ” “Neither do I… nor do they themselves, because it doesn’t exist; but they want to pretend it. It serves them well, doesn’t it?” “I forgot that detail in my letter, and now I remind you. The mother doesn’t go that far.” It ends up as “my relatives in Seville” or “the relatives of Peleches.” –Well, so what? –Wait a minute… Canary Islander, how deliciously made this coffee is! –Like the work of Catana’s hands, who have no equal for that. The butter is delicious too… –That’s first-rate here: remember what I told you about the milk. So, back to what we were talking about. Rufita, who is the daughter, the daughter of Doña Zoila Mostrencos, full sister of Don Cesáreo, husband of Doña Lucrecia; Rufita, I mean, the supposed cousin of Nieves and, consequently, your niece, stopped me yesterday on the street with her mother and said: “I suppose, Don Claudio, that those gentlemen won’t give us anything if we go visit them as soon as they arrive… because we plan to visit them.” You see: such a close and well-known relationship in Villavieja… and with them being so in harmony with those from Mexico, it would seem wrong for us not to go and see them.” This is what Rufita said. “And what did you reply? ” “That you wouldn’t bother them with anything: on the contrary, that you would receive them very well…” “Perfectly answered… Why are you laughing, Nieves? ” “Why should I laugh, Papa? At Rufita’s question. Has anything funnier ever been heard? Who do those ladies take us for? ” “It won’t shock you, Nieves: that’s a very common style around here. ” “And when do they plan to come? ” “Well, tell them here at the least expected hour: certainly before lunch today. ” “So soon? ” “And they won’t be the only ones… It’s the style too. ” “So we have to make calls here too?” “Ugh! That’s all we do. ” “Oh, my God! ” “Bah!” Don’t worry about that… –Of course! Look, so that it can be useful to you as a government: those relatives will surely come this morning, and perhaps, perhaps, those from Garduño, that is to say, the Escribanas, and Codillo with his daughters; perhaps those from Martínez Liendres will dare, the Corvejonas: I believe they will dare, the same as the Indianas. I consider these infallible throughout today; and others of the same kind, tomorrow or the day after. All of them, pretending to fulfill a duty of courtesy to you by visiting you, seize this opportunity to show off among the people of the town and shove their dirty laundry in your eyes… When this round is over, the others will begin, the Faubourg Saint Germain here, “our old aristocracy,” so to speak, the Carreños below and the Vélezes above, which is all we have left of that class, and it’s pretty battered, by the way. It’s understood that neither the judge nor the clergy en masse, nor the old doctor , nor other personages more or less heavy-handed, more or less sincere in intention, will be missing. “But, Don Claudio, for the love of God, that’s going to be the end of it!” “Why? ” “Where are we going with so many visitors? It takes all summer to receive them and pay for them… ” “It was for them, baskets! ” “I’ve already told you not to worry about that. In a little over three days, as many people as you think of visiting you here will visit you .” The ritual of this great world admits of no longer delay: the visit would be taken with contempt. Well then, in another three or four days you’ll pay your debts, and then there’s the sun. To come see you in Peleches, each of you will bring the bottom of the coffers, especially the women; but this detail doesn’t oblige you to the reciprocal, even if they use you to do so . You dress as you see fit; and I give you this advice because the same bill will come out one way or another: in the end they’ll bite you. “Me?… And why, Señor Don Claudio? ” “Because that’s also the style here. ” “Well, I like it! ” “And you’re a newcomer, and the object of public curiosity, and from Seville, and rich, and a Bermúdez from the Peleches estate, and above all… a Canary Islander! Why shouldn’t it be said? Beautiful; but very beautiful!” “Are you going to spoil it for me in the end, you little fools? For one thing, you’ve already made me blush… Such a big soldier! ” “I’d be sorry to have upset you with this frankness, and I beg your forgiveness if I have had that misfortune; but let it be known that I won’t downplay what I’ve said, because I don’t fail to tell the truth out of any human respect. Back to what we were saying, Nieves: it’s even possible that some of the visitors you receive will amuse you; But whether you enjoy them or not, you, Señor Don Alejandro, and I, if I am of any use to you, will continue to draw up plans to make your life here to your liking, and even to lay out the part of them that does not interfere with the required etiquette in these first three or four days… Another thing, and for your own good: in Villavieja we eat in the true Spanish style, from twelve to one, and dine from nine to ten… And apropos of these particulars: my condition as a widower with an open house has given me some understanding of the prosaic tasks of life. I wish I could have demonstrated this to your satisfaction in the provisional supplies I made for your kitchen and pantry. I can swear to you that I put all my five senses into it . “Everything is in perfect condition, Señor Don Claudio, and nothing is missing or in excess… Catana should declare it as he did last night when he took possession of his domains!… There’s no need to talk about two very important items, the butter and the coffee, because the samples are in plain sight, and we’ve already agreed that they are excellent… ” “I congratulate you with all my heart, because I have a bit of vanity in being competent in that delicate chapter of domestic life… As for the rest of the house… ” “We’ve already told you that there’s no objection either. ” “I haven’t forgotten; but I’m not going to discuss that precisely, but rather something that couldn’t be done for lack of time, and could be done now more slowly and entirely to your liking. I’d like to talk to you about this and other similar matters as soon as possible. ” “What a mess, man! Is the matter so urgent? ” “Urgent, not at all, no sir… ” “Well then, what the devil!” Let’s spend the after-dinner conversation on more important matters… Give me some more news about the people of our time. For example, about the famous apothecary… –With your permission, I’ll leave you. This business of visitors is worrying me, and I’m afraid I won’t have time to get ready. –Well, goodbye, my daughter. –Bon appétit, and see you later. –At your feet, Nieves. –There! You’re starting now. –Where? –Wherever you like or whatever angers you the most. –Are you allowed to gossip, now that we’re alone? –About whom, malicious man? –About the first person who jumps into the conversation. –As if the innocent knew how to do anything else! –Thank you for the flattery. –It’s fair, believe it… But what if the one who jumps into the conversation doesn’t give reasons? –Everyone here gives them, little or much, in different ways. –Even the poor apothecary? –That’s a man apart, not only in Villavieja, but in the entire sublunar world. –Anyway, it’s up to you, I’ll wash my hands of it… –But you don’t dislike the subject… –Well, I didn’t say… –Let’s be clear, Don Alejandro… –Basketball! Well, how can I make things clearer? Come on, from that, or from whatever suits you best… let’s see what you think of these royalties to fumigate the conversation. –The band is first-rate. –Well, let’s set fire to that specimen… Here goes the match. –Thank you, Señor Don Alejandro. –Wait a bit. Wouldn’t the tobacco taste better if you dipped the tip in rum, for example, or in cognac? –It’s possible, or in a little of the two. I hadn’t thought of that, you see! –Do you know if there’s any at home? –I vouch for the fact that a good supply of that kind of necessities arrived at her . –Catana! Catana!… The rum and the cognac… and a few glasses with it! Chapter 7. Visits. What Don Claudio Fuertes y León had announced to this effect at Don Alejandro Bermúdez’s house was fulfilled almost to the letter. At eleven in the morning, precisely at the moment when that hour rang in the tower of the Collegiate Church, Rufita González and her mother, the “relatives” of the house, sat on Peleches’s platform , with all the necessary tools for visiting on them: gloves, fan, parasol, and card holder, and the best rags from the trunk. “We,” Rufita would say after the customary greetings; because it is well known that her mother hardly ever opened her lips except to smile continually and say “just in case” to everything–, we had exact news of her coming to Peleches this summer, not only from Don Claudio, who distinguishes us so much because he thinks so much of us, but from Aunt Lucrecia herself who wrote to us by the last mail, letting us know that my first cousin, Nachito, would also be coming to meet all her relatives… well, you and us, since she couldn’t come because she’d put on a lot of weight, nor could Uncle Cesáreo, who has to be always by her side, because she can’t take care of herself, she’s so fat… Of course, from this coming of her cousin, which is very busy around here, and from knowing also that he has been corresponding with me… ugh! the gossips have learned a horror of things: that there are plans arranged, you see!; that he must live with us, because he is the son of one of my mother’s brothers; that he will live in Peleches, although he is your nephew _only_ on your side; that if, due to his atrocious fortune, he would be better off upstairs than downstairs, for other reasons that poor Aunt Lucrecia knows well and Uncle Cesáreo will not have forgotten either, it would be more proper and even more decent to live downstairs than upstairs… Come on, it’s the same old story that gossip sticks its foot in other people’s business… But we, thank God… a good number of them are already coming to make firewood!… eh, Mama?… we know very well that to accommodate a person of Nachito’s importance, we are not all… well, all as important and wealthy as is required, even though in education and sentiments we have nothing to envy of the most exalted ladies; and for the same reason that we know this, it would not surprise us if my cousin were more comfortable in Peleches… Ah! Well, leave it, there are those who say he is coming to marry you, Nieves… you will know if it is true, ha, ha, ha! Truly, there would be nothing special about it. that it would turn out that way after meeting you, so elegant and so pretty… You see, compared to a poor woman from Villavieja like me… ha, ha, ha! The choice couldn’t be doubtful… ha, ha, ha!… So, back to what I was saying at the beginning, because words get tangled up, they get tangled up… Knowing that you were coming, we said to ourselves, you understand, Mama and I: and what do we do? Courtesy and family kinship command us to visit you; but other reasons, which are also not to be forgotten, tell us: we have to sleep it off and think it over well, because if with the best of wishes that one brings to that house, they give someone a big upset for all the payment, bang! So, in this regard, we consulted the case yesterday with Don Claudio; and, naturally, he advised us to come, responding that we would be well received… Well, of course! As Mr. Fuertes told us : “What do you have to do with what once existed or wasn’t between those above and those below, since that’s already a sick mess and you’re proper ladies, who aren’t going to ask anyone for half a peseta for your lunch rolls?” So when we learned that you had arrived last night, we said to ourselves: let’s greet you and offer you the house and our respects, because we are muleteers… and almost relatives, too; and this morning we grabbed the first thing we could get our hands on… Because Mom and I really like to walk decently, yes, but simple, very simple, as you can see… which doesn’t mean that we don’t always have a little more luxurious stuff in reserve, just in case something really thunders… Unlike others here, who take the whole chest with them every time they go out on the street, ugh! Because you can’t imagine the rabble there is in Villavieja, and the spirit they put out and the tone certain people put on… Come on, four scruffy bastards, God forgive me, who would be better off sweeping the stairs or carrying sardines from the dock… You’ll see, you’ll see! Especially you, Nieves, if you don’t pack your trunks tightly and don’t take a new dress out to the Glorieta or the Arcos every day… ha, ha, ha! And if you do, then they copy you and look at you askance and skin you alive. They’re atrocious, ha, ha, ha!… Let Mom say if I’m a connoisseur or even that much… Because, my dear, every kick in the stomach has us shaken!… And so it went on for fifteen minutes, without anyone being able to join in the conversation. For Nieves, Rufita’s garrulousness was an astonishing novelty: she was as if fascinated listening to her; but even more fascinated by the multitude of things she was moving at once: her tongue, her head, her eyes, her fan, her parasol, her feet, and her bottom. Her mother, on the other hand, barely moved anything except her lips to smile, her fan very slowly, and her tongue to say from time to time: “Just right.” Don Alejandro was a little less in suspense than his daughter in the face of that spectacle; but not as calm as she, because he was on tenterhooks with fear over certain allusions Rufita González made. It was almost noon when the two of them got up; and that was because they heard rumors of new visitors entering the corridor. “Regarding the matter of cousin Nacho,” Rufita said, taking her leave, ” we repeat to you that, for our part, there will be no brawl or anything of the sort . If he wants to stay in Peleches, let him stay; if he wants to come with us, let him come.” He won’t be as well housed as here, nor will he have such a pretty innkeeper, ha ha ha! But we’ll give him plenty of love and the best of what’s at home; and… it’s something, ha ha ha! In any case, it’s not a rogue’s stab in the back yet, and you can start to get your bearings for when we meet again. Because we must meet again, won’t we? For now, when you pay us a visit… and many more times, as is natural between family people. Isn’t that true, Don Alejandro? Ha ha ha! Goodbye, Nieves. _A couple of kisses._ All yours, Señor Don Alejandro… Say goodbye, Mama, and let’s go. _Mama says goodbye as At the door to the platform, they met the Notaries who were entering, very flushed with heat and somewhat angry in appearance. Before leaving the house, the girls had disagreed over what they should wear for that visit. In the end , each of them dressed as she saw fit; but all the way they were shooting at each other in hushed voices. The hangover was still lingering when they met the relatives of “those from Peleches” at the very door of the parlor. Because of this, and because of the bad manners they held towards them, the words and gestures with which they paid for their displays of courtesy were more like bite than greetings . They all sat down after much fussing about exaggerated etiquette, and the Notary Mother was the one who spoke first. They had felt obliged to welcome and pay their respects to the Peleches family, not only because of the position they held in Villavieja society , “although humble, of some importance,” but also because of the close relationship that had always existed between her late husband and the Bermúdez family. Pure deception. On the other hand, among the “properly decent” people there, there was a real need to cultivate a little the relationship with well-born and well-educated people, because “you don’t know how this is getting day by day… atrocious! I tell you, atrocious!” And the fault lay not precisely in the determination of those at the bottom to rise to the top, but in some who, having always considered themselves to be among the top brass, could not bear that others as good as themselves, from every angle, would take their side; and unable to astonish them or even disgrace them in this way… or compete with them, if you looked closely, in money, elegance, or education, they let themselves rot between four old walls, or walked the other way around everyone else. And of course: the places they left unoccupied “in good society” were occupied by “other daring women of the same stripe”; thus, “an atrocious mishmash” was created, and then, people who didn’t understand much about these things, all were measured by the same yardstick. The Notary Mother wanted Nieves to take everything into account so that she wouldn’t be fooled “by looks” and would know “who she was hanging around with.” This was a favor she wanted to do her with the good will of avoiding many unpleasantries… For now, she didn’t mention names; but she would quote them if Nieves thought it necessary… The eldest daughter, thinking that a forced scruple would be well received here, an ironic attenuation of what her mother had said, jotted down four words to this effect; but the second little clerk immediately crossed them out with another irony ; the first replied with a dig at her sister; the youngest intervened with a mortifying buzz for the other two, and the three of them began to develop red rosettes on their cheeks again, their voices and lips began to tremble, and their fans creaked and tore between their convulsing fingers… The mother clerk, well aware of these symptoms, in order to ward off the more or less muffled storm she sensed, laughed heartily at her daughters’ sayings, hoping that Nieves and Don Alejandro, who looked at each other in astonishment at this singular scene, would take them as jokes. Fortunately for everyone, Don Ventura Gálvez, the parish priest of Villavieja, arrived. He was a man of little theology but much morality, cheerful, simple, and kind as could be. He was already old, though well preserved, and the only remnant of what had been the Chapter of the Collegiate Church of Villavieja before the Concordat that suppressed it. He remained there as assistant to the new parish, and a few years later he was promoted to parish priest. Don Alejandro esteemed him greatly and gave him a very tight hug. He addressed the Notaries informally, because they were his daughters by confession and also belonged to one of the congregations he directed, and he made a few jokes to them as soon as he saw them there all dressed up. With this, the storm that threatened to break out was averted. With Don Alejandro During the conversation at Don Ventura’s property, he spoke of the state of the Collegiate Church: quite good. According to those who were intelligent, and he was not, the temple, while not a monument of great importance, was worth taking care of, even without considering it, as he did above all, as the house of God. It was relatively modern, in the Greco-Roman style, as Mr. Bermúdez knew well; and although not rich in ornamentation, it had a certain apparent grandeur… For Villavieja, like the Cathedral of Toledo. The two assistants who would come to see Don Alejandro, perhaps that very day, were helping him with zeal and even enthusiasm, and in this way the services of worship were quite elaborate and solemn. For the neighborhood of Villavieja, strictly speaking, more personnel were needed than the parish had; but considering the times, it wasn’t too bad. Thanks to the kindheartedness of the people of Villaveja, the church lacked nothing essential… except for the organ, which perhaps didn’t sound at all, because it was so old and patched up. There was talk of acquiring another one, and they had already sounded out wills with considerable success… Don Cesáreo, Doña Lucrecia’s husband, had offered a considerable sum, and more, if necessary. God was the Supreme Goodness and looked after everyone, particularly the people of Villaveja, among whom bad ideas would never take root… Lately, a small seed of discord had fallen there… a small thing; but which, like all evil, would bear fruit if not exterminated in time: the son of an ill- advised tavern keeper; A presumptuous rascal, a certain Maravillas, who, with the dust from the classrooms or the bars on his clothes, had begun to preach among the common people some devilish doctrines that ran the risk of taking root, for the very reason that they were understood neither by the preacher nor by the listeners. That’s why one had to be on the alert. Such a fool, ignorant, and daring! Lately, he had been engaged in the work, which he called redemptive, of publishing a newspaper, to be printed in the capital, because there, in Villavieja, there was no printing press yet… He would have to read what that newspaper, written by a wreck who thought and reasoned like Maravillas, had to say in a town with such sound ideas as Villavieja! There was a lot of talk about this; The clerks left, and in came, almost one after the other, the trial judge, the lawyer Canales, Codillo with his daughters, the doctor Don Cirilo, the Corvejonas, and some other notables of the town. There was barely room at the head of the platform where the lords of Peleches were receiving; due to this confinement and the respect instilled there by the dignitaries, it was due, fortunately for those in the household, that neither the Corvejonas nor those of Codillo were fully engaged in their papers, as the clerks and Rufita González had been in theirs , and they left early. When the Peleches family sat down at the table, which was already very busy at one in the afternoon, Nieves felt unwell, as if she had rolled down a mountain; and she was also half frightened by the actions of those women, so chatty, so cursing, so ferocious. She was terrified by the idea of ​​frequent contact with them, and she begged her father for mercy to spare her from that torment. Don Alejandro laughed heartily at his daughter’s fears and entertained her greatly by explaining the true substance of those things that frightened her because she did not know them as well as he did. He broke them down conveniently; he separated on one side what was wrong due to local animosity and lack of true education, and on the other what was healthy and noble, most honorable and very estimable at heart. He demonstrated to his daughter, without great effort, that by cultivating her association with these people in this way, with great tact and infrequent, she would even come to love them. In any case, she had come to Peleches to live a life to her liking, without harming or offending others, and that life would make There. In the afternoon, the visitors continued, climbing to Peleches sweating a kilo, because that day the sun was scorching. Let Indiana’s mother tell us so, as she appeared in a velvet dress, the greatest luxury in all the town’s coffers, altered for the fourth or fifth time since the one her Martín had given her when he married her. Nearing dusk, and when no one was expected in Peleches, the Vélez family from la Costanilla arrived. There were three of them, the only thing left of the Butibambas from Villavieja: a Mr. Don Gonzalo, tall, bony, and pale, with a bald head and a closely shaved face, a stiff bow tie, and a very tight black frock coat, quite outdated and out of use. Juanita Vélez, a maiden in her forties, tall and gaunt, in the style of her father, with straight hair, good eyes, and very regular features, dressed in fine but very old fabrics; The cut of his attire was presumptuously simple, but also somewhat old-fashioned; and finally, Manrique, the youngest of the Vélez brothers, Juanita’s brother, a faded and dull Giraldon, with a very large mouth and yellow teeth, a big foot, long legs, and a rather Adam’s apple. He was a lawyer for luxury, and out of luxury, he spent his youth shut up in the Costanilla mansion, out of a habit of holding the people of Villavieja in low regard. That visit was heavy and melancholic, and also very annoying for Nieves, who was constantly between the gazes of the two brothers: Juanita’s, inquisitive and biting, and Manrique’s, voracious and even shameless. Few words were exchanged between the three; and of those few, Nieves’s were monosyllables; Juanita’s, impertinent, and Manrique’s, nonsense. Don Gonzalo, who read La Época, spoke briefly with Don Alejandro about the audacity of the extreme parties and the decline of the Spanish aristocracy, necessarily influenced by new currents, from which it did not deviate as it should have, as it was obliged by its glorious traditions and the lofty mission entrusted to it by History, and even by Divine Providence… This led him like silk to sketch out a sketch of his life in that minuscule center where the same evil instincts and the same lusts as in the great capitals boiled and stirred, in due proportions. Thank God, he had managed to preserve all his prestige to this day, and with the same strength he had inherited from his ancestors. He could not conceive of life in his class any other way, nor could he accommodate himself to certain tricks and deals with the lower classes, as others did… because that was better for them . It was a matter of native dignity, and there was no need to argue about it. One-eyed Bermúdez had no such thoughts, listening to him without blinking, yawning occasionally. He could swear that his dealings with the lower classes were his own doing, because he was rich and from the Peleches estate, and lived in Seville, and had business dealings and friends of many stripes in various parts, including Villavieja. He also knew that the Vélez family of la Costanilla detested him and everything that belonged to him, and that if they came to visit him, it was only to show off and sell him their refinement. He also knew that the puffing Vélez family, with all his aristocratic idealism, was, under his cover, the greatest and most disastrous schemer in Villavieja, with the exception of the other one, from Carreño, from La Campada, who went out with him there in intrigues and in scheming. and finally, he knew that he was relatively poor and vain, he lived withdrawn, envious, and a gossip, just like his children and all his noble parents. Far from thinking of contradicting him on anything, the friendly Bermúdez said “amen” to everything because it was the most direct way to reach the end of the visit, which was what he most desired at that time. He had him at nine o’clock at night; and the Vélez de la Costanilla said goodbye and left with the same insipid ceremony with which they had appeared at the Peleches manor. As soon as Nieves was alone with her father, she said: “I think I’m sick, Papa, and if any more visitors come tonight, I’ll ” I’m dying. ” “And so am I,” Don Alejandro responded, striding around the room to loosen his stiff neck. “But don’t worry, they won’t come; and if they did, they’d waste their trip and their time, because I’m going to give orders for the doors to be closed, as if we had died or already fallen into bed… But tell me first: of all the visits we’ve had today, which did you find the most annoying? ” “The last,” Nieves responded without hesitation. “This one from the Vélez family. Oh, what shop-window images! At least the others…” “Exactly, they’re amusing. ” “That’s right.” “Well, you’re still missing other first-rate specimens: the Carreños de la Campada, rivals of the Vélez de la Costanilla family, whom you’ve just met… and whatever God has in store for us, my daughter; because at the rate we’re going today, it’s not easy to guess what will happen tomorrow.” In any case, the battle will only last a few days… Remember what Don Claudio told us. “Yes; but what about those in our area? ” “Don’t worry us: we’ll take them at our convenience, or not at all… or we’ll cut them off wherever convenient; and let Troy burn if necessary. What’s up with us? For now, we’ll have supper to gather our strength; and with that and a rest in bed, God will dawn tomorrow and we’ll prosper… Catana! Catana!” The woman from Ronda appeared a few moments later, with a letter in her hand, and as she handed it to her master, he said: “Have the gates to the street closed and have dinner prepared for us quickly … Who brought this letter? ” “An errand boy. ” “Are you waiting for a reply? ” “No, sir.” Don Alejandro opened it, having already glimpsed the penman in the somewhat trembling bastard of the envelope; He read the signature first and said to Nieves: “The one I presumed to be from the handwriting. ” “Whose, Papa? ” “The famous pharmacist. Let’s see what good old Don Adrián comes up with . MR. D. ALEJANDRO BERMÚDEZ PELECHES. My friend, sir and master: Finding myself unable to leave this house today due to a sprained foot, a minor matter; my son having been absent since he left this morning to do one of his things, and not wishing to be the last of his good friends to welcome you , I am sending it to you in these lines. Until the occasion arises to extend it to you verbally, I have distinct pleasure in repeating to you that I am your true friend and faithful servant , Mr. Adrián Perez.” ” This is how all visits should be made,” said Nieves, “so that they may not be tiresome.” “Well, this famous apothecary’s is precisely one of the few, if not the only, that I would have received today with true pleasure. So much so that I must go see him tomorrow. ” “Oh, Papa!” Nieves exclaimed, truly alarmed. “What if visitors come when I’m alone? ” “A convenient time will be chosen,” her father responded to reassure her. “And to top it all off, I’ll take you with me, and we’ll get some fresh air along the way, and stretch our tendons. And if visitors come, let them come; and if they get nervous… even better… baskets! Long live the freedom of Peleches!” And they went to the dining room, playing around like two children after school. Chapter 8. At the casino. The one in Villavieja had very little to see and even less to admire. This is already known through hearsay from Don Claudio Fuertes; but it’s one thing to hear it, and quite another to see it with your own eyes. climb its narrow staircase, between Periquet’s shop and the Bazaar of the Parrot; feel the uneven steps shudder beneath your feet; open up into the foul-smelling, dark, almost gloomy vestibule by day, with a few unequal hangers and a long, narrow, slatted walking stick ; step at random into either of the two passages that branch off from there, one to the right and one to the left, with a spongy, trembling floor from sheer age, and see here a room full of empty drawers, dilapidated oil lamps, piles of newspapers debris and broken pottery; beyond, a small room with the honors of a secretary’s office, containing a pine shelf with papers and some account books, four ordinary chairs, and a table with a green tablecloth, a chamois file, and a brass writing desk; a small sitting room beyond with a long table with half a dozen newspapers on it and a good number of chairs around it, a large cupboard between two holes in the wall with some battered books and several collections of the Gazette, a grandfather clock on one end, and in the one opposite, a calendar beneath a large framed advertisement for Matías López chocolates, and two oil lamps, with brass reflectors, hanging from the ceiling above the table. All this was the “reading room.” Facing it, that is, at the other end of the corridor and with lights facing the square, was the great hall: the best room in the Casino; a social hall, a three-seater room, a billiard room, and a coffee room all at the same time, and a dancing room when the time came. Then the straw chairs and the four disjointed and mismatched armchairs , which were usually moved here and there at the whim of the unemployed, were pushed against the wall; the small tables and nightstands were piled up in the already familiar dark room, and in the den and another similar room next to it, or in the kitchen; and the billiard table was converted into a gaudily decorated snack table, on which the piles of sugar cubes and soft drinks in Periquet’s glassware stood out and were very conspicuous; the two dozen candles were lit, corresponding to as many removable candlesticks that were placed along the walls and on each side of the two middle uprights; And with this, along with some tri-colored tulle hangings on the doors, and garlands of misshapen flowers winding up the two aforementioned posts, and with the burning of some Serrallo pastilles or half a real of lavender there, the room looked very oriental and even splendid, in the opinion of the most discontented and demanding residents of Villaveja. The billiard table, due to the light the players needed during the day, was at one end of the room, near one of the three balconies overlooking the square. The three-card cue players, in order to get as far away as possible from the noise that was usually made at and around the table among the players, the clashing of balls, the singing of the kitchen boy, the rattling of the tin drum, and the comments and disputes of onlookers and commentators, occupied the opposite end, more than thirty paces away, because the room was enormous. He had been employed at the house, since time immemorial, according to a rate voted on at the general meeting of the partners, with the assistance of the contractor, a coffee shop owner established on the back street, in a very shabby premises. But, according to rumor, he fulfilled his commitments well, and even his goods, his diligence, and particularly his lemonades in the summer season were highly regarded . And there was nothing else worth mentioning at the Villavieja Casino. That afternoon, or rather, that evening, there were, as usual at such an hour, few people in the great hall. No one was sitting at the tables ; the same was true at the nearby tables; on the tattered gutta-percha sofa and in the four armchairs adjacent to it, Maravillas and two “boys from the editorial office,” talking or listening to one of them reading, very quietly, some papers. Near the billiard table, sipping coffee, leaning against a table, were the prosecutor and two friends; and playing _chapó_, with the usual racket, the Navy Aide and Leto Pérez the pharmacist: the former without a tie and with his collar and waistcoat unbuttoned; the latter the same, and also in his shirtsleeves; very justifiable liberties on that occasion, because it was so hot that “the birds were roasting,” as the apothecary’s son said, without being far from the truth. Despite this heat and the stench given off by the two kerosene lamps hanging over the table, recently lit, although still dimly lit on the caretaker’s recommendation, very expensive to a boy taking aim; despite this, and despite having been playing for more than two hours, neither the Assistant nor Leto showed any signs of fatigue. Leto in particular seemed to harden and become animated with the weight of the heat and the exertion of the struggle. He lacked time for anything: no sooner had his ball stopped than he’d hit the cue and take the opposite ball almost on the fly; clinging to the rail, he’d watch the three run by, because if one of them wasn’t in his hand, he’d set them in mad motion, and he’d follow and drive them with his eyes; and as always, he’d _do_ something, when he didn’t do everything: clubs, carom, loss, and two billiards, with a frightful racket because the cloth was wounded and stitched, and the balls were chipped, and they rattled on the board as if they had been nailed down . He’d take them out of the pockets and plant the clubs before the boy could finish calling the shot. He’d give the Assistant seven points and the lead, if he wanted it; and even so, he’d still have him by the yard, because there was no possible defense against a style of play like Leto’s. And beware, the Assistant played well; but if he couldn’t knock the other guy off the rail, it was a goner. With a quarter of a cue that the pharmacist could have put into the table, the blow was struck from where it was least expected. For a ball with such initial strength, there was nothing certain on the table, nor in its immediate vicinity most of the time. The Assistant vented his annoyances by calling him Saint Bruno, and a swindler, and a lumberjack, and other such things. Leto conceded that he got a lot more than he threw; but he didn’t agree with the adjectives. And they argued about it constantly and appealed to the judgment of onlookers, and Leto laughed so hard and said so many things!… Because although he took everything with enthusiasm, he was rarely bothered. That was his advantage, for now; Not to mention the appearance, which wasn’t bad in any way. On the contrary, if you looked closely and knew how to observe it, there were moments when it was even beautiful. Leto was robust, without being coarse, by any means; agile and well-organized , with a noble and intelligent look, a healthy complexion and correct features; his beard was a dark brown, full, soft, and well -groomed; his hair was similar to a beard; his teeth were healthy and very white; his mouth was not large and fresh; and his neck, which was then exposed, was clean, white, and round like a piece of marble. For, being this in detail, only at certain moments, as has been said, was he, on the whole, beautiful in the aesthetic sense of the word. The reason for this contradiction, which few attempted to investigate, one of which Don Claudio Fuertes, who was so well known to him, and yet, Don Alejandro portrayed himself in the indecisive manner that was evident in his letter, would be discovered by a third-rate physiologist merely by observing how Don Adrián Pérez’s son played, argued, reasoned, and conducted himself in everything, in relation to those who heard or watched him, and the reader will gradually discover it as he deals with him. The fact is, at present, that Leto was leading the Assistant by a mile; that the Assistant was getting angry; that Leto was defending himself in his own way; that the prosecutor and his collaterals were confusing the case for them in order to further entangle them in it; that the kitchen boy turned the screws on the reverberators because it was no longer possible to see what was necessary to play the last table started in the last game; and that in this state of affairs, Maravillas’s two friends left ; He sat down next to the table closest to the billiard table on the cabin side, and “changing the conversation,” the prosecutor asked the pharmacist’s boy who was polishing the sole of his cue at that moment, after wiping the sweat from his forehead with his shirtsleeve, if he had gone to visit the Macedonian. “And who is the Macedonian?” Leto asked candidly. “It seems to me that it is quite clear,” replied the other very seriously. “Mr. Bermúdez Peleches. ” “I don’t see that clearly… ” “Well,” added the prosecutor, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands in his thumbs through the armholes of his waistcoat: “An Alexander who has Hector and Achilles for brothers cannot and should not be any lesser than the Macedonian, the _Great_, whom History and I call. Furthermore, according to my information, he is one-eyed like his illustrious father, the Jumist Philip. Another family trait…” The idea was greatly celebrated by all those present, including Maravillas, who for once did not use the little smile that his role as free-thinking propagandist continually required of him; by all, except for Leto, who stared at the prosecutor… until he suddenly burst out laughing. “Carape!” he immediately exclaimed, “that nickname is perfect.” “Thank you, lad,” said the prosecutor very seriously. “Come on, it will go down like many others. ” “I didn’t say it for that reason; and I would even regret it, because I have the best background on that gentleman, and especially on his daughter.” They say it’s an excellent thing… But what’s the deal? Have you or haven’t you been to see them? –Me!… For what saint’s sake? –For the saint’s sake that half of Villavieja has been… Canario, how do you know they have a lot of money! –Well, look… There you go, Assistant… Start counting: the little race in the middle, carom and billiards… Wait, the guy’s going to sneak in too… He sneaked in!… Two and six, eight; and six, fourteen. Take note, kid. Well, I was going to say that, without me having anything personally to do with them, or even knowing them more than by hearsay, it’s also true that, by chance, I wasn’t in Peleches yesterday , all dressed up, and that for little more than the same reason, I didn’t go up there today. –Didn’t I tell you? Let’s see, man. –And what’s there to see? What I told you at the beginning: that I have nothing to do in Peleches, and that’s why I haven’t gone. “As you were saying, by chance… ” “Write that down, lad… and don’t get burned, Assistant. You know I’m a fluky reaper. I was saying it for my father. ” “Now I understand less.” “My father has been a good friend of Don Alejandro’s ever since he was around here. Yesterday he twisted his foot. ” “Who? Don Alejandro? ” “No, sir: my father. ” “Average. ” “A twisted foot… no big deal… he’s almost back to normal. A teacher, Mr. Assistant, a teacher! A loss by three sticks, and I’m covered; and besides, stuck as an oyster… Gosh!… Come on, a bit more for you… Well, my father twisted his foot in a hole in the pharmacy and couldn’t go up to Peleches yesterday to greet that gentleman; and since he couldn’t go up, he wrote him a little note late in the afternoon when he saw that I hadn’t returned.” “From where? ” “From turning around outside. Because he’d thought I’d make the call in his place… Another good hit, Assistant. At that rate, you’ll take her to me. But we’ll see each other a little further on. We’re twenty-four by eighteen… isn’t that right? I’m missing twelve… a matter of one or two hits… Aha!… Put that five down for me for now.” When I came back at night, my father told me about the sprain, which happened after I left the house where I’d left him getting ready to go up. “Where? ” “To Peleches… And he wanted me to go with him!… How he wanted me to go up today to tell you that he still couldn’t leave the pharmacy… ” “And well, my dear.” –Get out of there, man!… Well, I’m the one perfectly suited for these embassies and such!… Even yesterday, if I had been at home, to please my father and have no valid excuse to the contrary… but today, with him about to come up at any moment, and after last night’s letter!… Damn!… I let the ball slip… What another breath of fresh air for your agony, Adjutant. –But why are you so reluctant to please your father in such an easy, simple, and even enjoyable matter? –You know it too well, Prosecutor: because I’m no good for such things… come on, I stick to the wall like a little animal. –Bullshit. Just say you like things comfortable, and that’s it… –That’s the pure truth, man: that’s how I am. “For what suits him. ” “Just as God is in heaven!” Leto said this as he prepared to play from the upper rail; and upon hearing him, Maravillas gave him one of his most intense little smiles from across the room. Leto caught it in the air and was almost mortified; but he was more attentive than to these things, to the play that his opponent’s carelessness had just prepared for him. “That’s how they put it to Ferdinand VII,” said the prosecutor, repeating a traditional phrase in billiards, in identical cases; that is, when the opponent’s ball is between the player’s and the sticks and in a straight line, to _shoot_. “Is this to be thrown?” Leto asked the Assistant, repeating another billiard phrase . “And very carefully,” replied the Assistant, giving himself up for dead. “Well, here it goes.” A tremendous crash was heard; and nothing, really nothing, was left on the table, because the five clubs crashed into Maravillas’s face; Leto’s ball skipped after them, in a different direction, luckily for Tinito the Wise; and the other two, because the Assistant’s ball had hit the mingo who was in the cabin, disappeared into the pockets after bouncing for a few moments from rail to rail, as if they were being chased by lightning. Maravillas was left as if frightened and didn’t have the desire to smile; Leto claimed he had done it unintentionally, but with the appearance of considering it well done if the beaten man questioned it even the slightest bit; The Assistant asked that the shot be credited to him because the ball that jumped had been Leto’s, and the others echoed the argument as the picturesque situation demanded… Suddenly, all four fell silent, and the players were seen throwing down their cue sticks, hastily buttoning their shirts and waistcoats, Leto turning his back, picking up his jacket from a stool, and, very quickly, stuffing his body into it. Because the fact is that Commander Don Claudio Fuertes and two other people had just appeared in the room who, from all indications, must have been Don Alejandro Bermúdez y Nieves, or, as the prosecutor told his colleagues, after his first glance at the strangers and in his mania for giving nicknames to everything living, “Macedonio with the most beautiful of Darius’s daughters.” For all her attire, Nieves wore a plain, wafer-colored tunic, very tight around her graceful waist, and a small straw hat matching her dress, gloves, and parasol; and for all her attire, two touches or notes of sea green: one on her hat and one at her waist. Imagine the relief that such a slender, fine, neat, and elegant figure would have taken on against the dirty, blackened backdrop of the great hall of the Villavieja Casino. Don Claudio advanced with his companions to the billiard table and introduced them, one by one, to all his friends gathered there. When it was Leto’s turn, Don Alejandro gave him a firm handshake, and Nieves, looking at him with great interest, assured him that it was a great pleasure to meet him. Leto, tongue-tied and cheeks burning, thought something was coming on. “We were at the pharmacy,” Bermúdez told her, “where I had the pleasure of embracing my good friend Don Adrián, and he spoke to us at length about you. For that reason, and because you are the son of the man you are, we are so happy to find you here. Besides, I knew you as a little boy. What a sight you’ve grown so much since then!” Talking and talking, it became known that father and daughter had left Peleches at six in the evening and walked down the Costanilla. They had entered the Collegiate Church, where Nieves, after saying her devotions, had seen everything worth seeing, and Don Ventura had shown it around with his usual patience and kindness. Afterward, they went into the pharmacy. There they rested and talked for a long time. As they were preparing to leave, Don Claudio arrived, having gone to look for them in Peleches half an hour earlier, believing he was still at home. From the pharmacy, and as the heat was no longer bothering them much, the three of them went to the dock, and then by the Campada… and by the Ceca and the Mecca. Coming near the plaza, on their way back to Peleches, and Don Alejandro very thirsty, Don Claudio recommended the lemonades at the Casino; and for that reason, and so Nieves would know the great hall, which held such fond memories for him, they had gone up. So, two or three tables were conveniently placed as far as possible from the petrol-smelling pool lights; Nieves was asked forgiveness for not smelling of something better, and they all sat down “in sweet love and company,” the two lawyers devouring Nieves with their eyes . Leto Pérez was not knowing where to fix his eyes with complete certainty of not being alluded to by anyone, to avoid the anguish of speaking in front of such distinguished guests. The prosecutor was deeply sorry for having nicknamed that gentleman who, although one-eyed, seemed to him to be an excellent person and was the father of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen up close in all the days of his life. Chapter 9. The Apothecary’s Family. The visits that day were not as numerous in Peleches, nor as bothersome to its residents, as those of the previous day; for in Villavieja, as everywhere, there was everything, and the fury of sentimentality and extravagant presumption had passed with the cloud of the previous day. Among the last visitors, there were many good and honorable intentions, generous wishes, even expressions of gratitude not forgotten despite the passing years; and in most of them it was quite clear that if they wore their christening robes and showy finery, they did so not out of vain ostentation, but as a due tribute to the importance of the lords they were visiting. The only discordant note in that set of fairly well -coordinated and bearable, and even entertaining things at times, was the Carreño family, or more properly and graphically “the Carreños” of La Campada, or, as it were, the Mucibarrenas of Villavieja, since their eternal rivals, the Vélez of La Costanilla, were called, in due time, the Butibambas. So that everything would be contrasting and antagonistic in these two dynasties of Villavieja, even in art and design, one was the opposite of the other. As has already been seen, the Vélez family were tall, bony, white, solemn, and cold like sepulchral statues. For the Carreños, as was widely known in Villavieja and was evident from the four exemplary couple and two daughters presented in Peleches, were short, sallow, coarse in line and features, curly-haired, sharp- tongued, and implacable in spirit. In style and education, as in appearance and hair. Parents and daughters ranted and raved for three-quarters of an hour, and left no honor or bone in Villavieja unscathed. How the Carreño mother congratulated herself—the couple were first cousins—on the arrival of the Bermúdez family in Peleches! “This is comforting, Señor Don Alejandro!” she said, vigorously fanning her neck, which was covered in bronze welts. You find yourself among your own people, and you have someone to talk to and unburden yourself to… Because in the solitude that class decorum forces you into, you make such disgusting piles of shit inside, that it’s a pleasure to vacate them later among people who understand you and know how to value things at their value… If you could see how this is getting!… No one knows it anymore. Not a decent soul remains: everything is yesterday’s rags here… even in the town hall; even among the employees the government sends us for the offices it has here… So, not wanting to become moth-eaten or for anyone in my house to become moth-eaten in an attic, like some old junk that I know in Vélez de la Costanilla, I say to these daughters: live happily, and in the sun; but as if there were no other inhabitants in Villavieja but us. Are those filthy women going to the Glorieta? You to the Chopera. Are they coming down here? You’re going up there. Are they going to the Miradorio? You’re going to the Arches. Are they all dressed up? You’re all dressed up, in your nightgowns… naked if possible. Let them see it, let them compare it, let them… Learn something; and if it hurts, that’s what they’re doing… and to hell with the enormous tarascas who come out of their shell… The same thing happens when this Carreño gets into a fight with the city council, for example, over whether or not to do this or that: instead of advising him to stay put and let the ball roll so he doesn’t get stepped on, I help him press harder against the morning star, because the day they get used to not seeing us anymore, as if there were no Carreños left in Villavieja, the devils would take everything and there’s no stopping here. Carreño laughed out loud at these sayings of his wife; and since he was considerably more savvy than she was, he didn’t use them so crudely; but in terms of the scope of his intention, he wasn’t far behind. The daughters, loaded with similores and ribbons, very porous and greenish, with the same intention of caste, ranted in a mixed style of the worst kind of the other two. “Do you know, Papa,” Nieves would say to her son after the Carreños left, “that this thing of pure air that you recommend so much doesn’t always yield the best results when it comes to good ideas? Look, we’ve heard good things since yesterday, people already quite healthy in body! ” “I’ll tell you,” Don Alejandro answered, a little flustered by his daughter’s unexpected observation. “Looking at the case from the top of my head and the way it’s coming across, it seems you’re right; but considering what should be considered; looking as it should be looked at, are you… putting each thing in its place and in its corresponding light; measuring this and weighing that with the necessary reflection; not giving certainties.” …to certain, well, to certain minor accessories, the value of a fundamental fact, eh?… studying, in short, the point thoroughly… penetrating it to the very depths, as I have penetrated it, the infallibility of my axiom is palpable; but to the point that this very argument that occurred to you gives it even greater prominence… as I could demonstrate to you now, if the occasion were opportune or a great need demanded it… Because I warn you that the question is somewhat metaphysical, treated as it should be; and I don’t believe it would amuse you much after a series of visits such as the one you’ve been putting up with. It is unknown whether Nieves’s rational doubts were dispelled by this argument of her father’s; But it is a fact that both of them, despite having arranged to meet Don Claudio in Peleches that evening, found themselves so fed up with visits and so in need of freedom and movement that at six in the evening they set out into the world down the Costanilla, leaving two hours earlier than agreed upon with the retired commander. It is already known that after visiting the Collegiate Church, they made a long stop at the pharmacy, and that from there they went for a run around the town until they arrived at the Casino at the last minute. It matters little what they did there, and even less what happened to them while walking in the open air, of which there was certainly not much that afternoon; but something must be said about their visit to Don Adrián Pérez the apothecary. One, and two, and three… the two friends gave each other many hugs. They slapped each other’s backs with open hands, separated, looked at each other for a moment, and smiled; and back to embracing and unembracing, looking at each other and smiling… all of this, without stopping to say things to each other… “Gosh, how glad I am!–With what pleasure I embrace you, canástoles!–Another one, Don Alejandro!–With all my heart, Don Adrián!… If days don’t pass by for you, canástoles!–You’re such a young fellow, gosh!… Go on with another one!–You can see that you are, ha, ha!… What a famous Don Adrián!–Well, good old Don Alejandro!–Yes, sir.–Well, well!…” And so on. Then the apothecary began with Nieves: not to embrace her, but to ask her a thousand questions and compliments and to praise her for being a “pretty girl”, ending by making her look like each of the Bermúdez he had met, against the opinion of the Bermúdez present, who maintained, with better titles, that she was “all of those of there,” almost a portrait of her mother. It was agreed to, because, when all was said and done, the apothecary didn’t care, and the father and daughter sat on the stools that Don Adrián had brought them, offering them along the way a refreshment of blackberry or verjuice syrup, which the apothecary had in stock, made that very week… or hot chocolate that they would bring down from the house… “in all honesty.” They thought highly of him, but refused to take anything. Meanwhile, nothing had yet been said about Don Adrián’s limp, which was noticeable not only when he moved, but also because he wore a slipper on one foot that gave way a bit, and the other in his everyday boot. To what is known about him from Don Claudio Fuertes, it must be added that he was of average height, dark-skinned, gaunt, with small but bright eyes, a cheerful expression, and a slow, toneless voice. He seemed somewhat sarcastic, but in reality he wasn’t. It seemed so because it resulted from the combination of his phlegmatic and natural dullness, with the apparent malice of his mouse-like eyes and the cheerfulness of his mouth. The thing about his foot, as Don Alejandro had asked him as soon as he sat down, had been nothing serious: reaching for the jar of papaver album to prepare some medicine, he stood on tiptoe; and when he placed his foot on the ground again, half of it sank outward into a large crack that he pointed to with his hand. Nothing, a slight strain that had already been cured with some old-fashioned compresses… so much so that he thought he would have gone up to Peleches a little later. Because to think that his son would do for him was to think the impossible… “Gosh, what a boy that is!” And he shook his head a little and rubbed his left elbow, moving the sleeve of his coat up and down with the whole hollow of his right hand applied there. Through that little door, that is, through the apothecary’s sweet and harmless lament, the story of Don Adrián’s entire family emerged into the square, prompted with genuine interest by Bermúdez. When the apothecary died fourteen years earlier, she had four children left out of the fourteen she had had in her fortunate marriage. Of the four children, three were girls. As time went by, the eldest married the inspector of that customs office; he was soon promoted, and the couple was loaded with family; but they all had something to eat, and that was some consolation. The second married worse: to a man from Villavieja, recently made a schoolteacher. The job didn’t provide her with the essentials there; they went to the city believing their fortunes would improve, and they would have already died of hunger without the crumbs he gave them, taking them off their table. The third married a lieutenant in the Civil Guard, and like the eldest, she also traveled from one place to another, and also loaded with family. “The truth is,” concluded Don Adrián, gently scratching his elbow, ” that, all things considered, Señor Don Alejandro, and the way things are going, gosh! the circumstances of other families, my daughters haven’t been befallen by the darkest of fortunes… that’s true. All three of them have married; two of them are eating and are on the go… that’s true… The third is somewhat behind in means, it’s true; but gosh! Her husband is honorable and young… he can wake up at the darkest hour… that’s true… and God never fails the good… I tell them that at every turn: you see; and so happy… that’s true… and happy I am too, yes, sir, quite happy; because anything else wouldn’t be fair… That’s true.” Having finished this point, he touched on the one about his son. “Yesterday you told me in your letter,” Don Alejandro noted, “that because he had done _one of your things_… I believe these were the words, he had not returned home at the time you wrote to me; and just now you also referred to him in a similar way. ” “And has that worried you?” the apothecary asked, rubbing his elbow and smiling softly. “I won’t say worried,” replied the man from Peleches very affably; “but rather a certain curiosity… ” “That’s only natural, ha ha!… Well, regarding that boy, damn it! I don’t know what to say to you… to you… that’s it. For now, He’s a nobleman to the max; and to this day… I’m glad I say it, he hasn’t given me a single upset… I mean, a real upset… –Well, that’s something, Don Adrián. –Good heavens! He certainly is! And I can’t thank God enough for it! No, no: on that point, we’re doing well. Well, this boy, whom you must have met the last time you were here, although in a hurry, so tiny, running around the pharmacy… that’s right… because he didn’t leave it all on God’s holy day… he looked like a little doll… so round and so white! … well, a little porcelain doll… with such big black eyes! … No, and he’s still got them, although they don’t seem so big now… True, the way his face has grown… that’s true. What ‘s changed somewhat is his color: he’s no longer so white… And all things considered, it’s just as well for a man like him, so accomplished and so… that ‘s it… And here we go: since I saw him wide awake and in excellent condition, I set him on a career path with the intention of following his father’s example: you see, so as not to let this thing die, which has been the bread of the family, of a family as large as mine; and one must be grateful, Don Alejandro… that’s right. The boy went to the city; he studied the humanities, with distinction, yes, sir, and with very good grades… gosh! Why not say it?… Once he was a bachelor, he readily agreed to follow this career, and I sent him to Madrid… Truly, money wasn’t abundant at home; but I found the necessary by raiding a little the piggy bank from my good days as a distinguished apothecary. And what better job for it, for crying out loud!… An only son, perhaps called to be the breadwinner of the family from the day I passed away… because by then, he still had two unmarried sisters, and his poor mother struggling through the life that ended the following year… Gosh! My lord Don Alejandro, it still hurts inside when these memories pass through my head… Anyway, Leto went to Madrid… Have I told you that my son’s name is Leto? –No, sir. –Well, that’s his name: Leto… that’s it… And by the way, the name is the worst thing about the poor boy. –The worst! And why, Don Adrián? –Because he’s ugly and even a little… why deny it, for crying out loud!… He’s ugly… and strange, let’s say. But things were beyond his control from his mother and his godfather, each more scrupulous than the other in the matter… that’s true; because Saint Leto was the saint of that day, September 1st… But gosh! I said, although that is the custom in the family, it seems to me that, for once, it might as well be broken… that is, at least for the sake of the unusual name: let’s give him another one, to call him by it, and that way everything will be settled. No way, Don Alejandro; and, anyway, his name is Leto… That’s right. Those listening declared, apparently wholeheartedly, that there was nothing ugly or unusual in the name, and, without being convinced of it, Don Adrián continued: “Nor in Madrid did he make a bad step in his career: always good grades, much fruit… because here, at the pharmacy, I was discovering him when he came to spend his holidays… and at the same time he was becoming a real hunk … not very big; but well-cut… that’s right, and strong… and handsome, for heaven’s sake!… and docile and smiling, it was a pleasure.” Well, sir, the fact that he actually got his degree and came home, and that I brought him to the pharmacy so he could practice what he’d studied, that’s it… because without practice, theories are worthless; and, my friend, he was as smooth as silk from the first moment. Such ease and artistry… an artistry as if he’d never done anything else his whole life… But, you see, what the heck! There was no need to think about looking too closely at what he was doing, because you already had his hands tied, materially tied, that’s it… come on, he was even capable of ruining everything… with his temper, with his lazy temper. “Was he bad? ” “No way! Short… or what do I know? From a young age it was the same; and if you could see how that harmed him during his studies!… Because without that condition, he would have shined twice as much by working less: that’s how it is.” But I expected it to change with time, as he saw the world and met people. Oh no! On that point, there’s been no sign of improvement: on the contrary, if you look closely. “But is he that short-tempered, Don Adrián? ” “So short or so… I don’t know, Don Alejandro, I don’t know what he is. He goes everywhere; he understands a little bit of everything, and he’s affable and affectionate with everyone… and he’s intelligent and clever, gosh! and pleasant and helpful… that’s it; but at the same time, he has this mania that everything he comes up with is pure trifle, and everything he does is botched, while he stops and is amazed by what others think and do… I tell you, it’s a strange case… very strange, gosh!… and a pity, yes, sir, a pity; because I have my reasons for believing so, and without being blinded by paternal passion… without being blinded, that’s what it is… I say I have my reasons, and you’ll see why… Since he trusts me quite a bit, because after all I am his father, on any point we touch on in our conversations he lets himself be carried along handsomely… well, without any major misgivings, let’s say… that’s it… without misgivings; and the boy, then, talks and talks, not much, but well, even with his bit of warmth… and with art, damn it!… with… come on, with faith in his idea; and yet it is known that he has not yet given everything he has; that he sees within himself… that is, within himself, much more than what he says… Well, damn it! it happens that on those same points the first one who comes to the pharmacy pulls his tongue, or catches him in the street or at the Casino; and now he’s a different man: he’s missing, well, that certainty, and that serene expression, and that orderly reasoning… and that firmness of speech… and what happens? He’s thus intimidated, disconcerted, confused, and gets out of the situation with a childish joke , that’s what it is, if not with some nonsense… Gosh! I don’t like that, and I tell him so… “But, man, stand firm in your position; speak formally, that’s what it is, with the aplomb that you know how to do when you want to…” Well, then, Don Alejandro: he answers me very seriously that he’s convinced that nothing, not one idea, worth two cents occurs to him; that he’s a pure vulgarity and an utterly insignificant man, gosh! And there’s no getting him out of here. “That’s strange, isn’t it, Nieves? And for what’s customary today!” “And I warn you that it’s the same in little things as in much.” For example: he’s singing in a low voice… in the pharmacy or in his room, because he’s never in a bad mood… I say he’s singing, and singing well, that’s what it is… theatrical things I would hear in Madrid, I think, because the singing doesn’t resemble those here… The voice is full and manly, well -tempered… well, a good voice in my opinion: well, if I come along, or anyone else comes along: you’ve already got him confused, as if he’d committed a mortal sin. That’s it… Another, rarer case: he’s very fond of drawing and painting, and has the corresponding supplies for both … Maybe you’ll see him perched on the Miradorio, or curled up in the valley, or in front of an old wall, with a brush in one hand, his little box of colors in the other, a small bottle of water at his side , and his notebook on his knees, painting and painting. Well, let the handsomest one tell him to show him what he’s painted… damn it! “First, he’ll show you the liver… That’s right. Let anyone go near him while he’s performing these operations: he’ll turn as red as crimson, and he won’t know what he’s doing… ” “So he paints too?” exclaimed Nieves, who was listening very attentively to the apothecary. “My, he paints!” replied Don Adrián, rubbing his elbow a great deal; “and I even think he paints well , from what I’ve managed to gather and the little I understand… But wait, it’s possible he has some of those things in the folder on his easel, where he usually keeps the recently finished ones…” The apothecary went into the back room, limping a little; he opened a door on the right; he entered through it, and soon returned with some cards in his hand. He placed them on Nieves’s, because they were the ones who came furthest forward to pick them up, and he said to her: “There is the latest work he has done. You, who will understand it better than I, will be able to say if it has any merit.” Nieves separated the cards and ran a quick, but avid and ardent glance over them . “Look, Papa,” she said enthusiastically, turning to him, “what beautiful watercolors! How easily and boldly they are done! What freshness of color! Oh, Don Adrián!” she added, looking at the apothecary who was melting with pleasure at the success of his son’s works. “If you only saw how hard it is to do these things! If you only knew the effort and the years it takes to even get halfway down this path! ” “But where on earth did your son learn to paint from you, and to paint in this way?” asked Don Alejandro, who was all eyes focused on looking at and admiring the watercolors. “So,” the apothecary said very gently, rubbing your elbow, “that you attach some importance to those paintings? ” “Very much!” Nieves and her father responded in unison. “I’m glad, damn it! Yes, sir, I’m glad… That’s right. Well, Leto, according to what he told me, learned to paint that way… because he already knew something about it since high school, from an innmate he had in Madrid, and it seems he was a painter of note… That’s right. The two of them loved each other very much and still write to each other from time to time. The painter is in Rome now. ” “So this is Leto’s great hobby?” Bermúdez asked. “No way!” the apothecary replied, tilting his head to one side and almost closing his eyes as he emphasized the word and the smile. ” That hobby is one of lost moments… well, the last of all.” It’s quite another thing that materially captivates him and brings him to grief … grief, yes, sir, damn it! It’s all a tall tale that intoxicates him! “Hunting, eh?” “No, sir: the sea… Not even the sea itself, but the vessel he rides in: his sloop… what sloop?… his yacht. ” “Basketballs! ” “And do you have a yacht… a real yacht?” asked Nieves, tearing her eyes away from her watercolors to fix her curiosity-filled gaze on the apothecary. “A yacht, miss,” responded Don Adrián in a very thoughtful tone: ” a yacht, like that, in pure English; and luxury, damn it! what is called luxury… that is: come on, a racing yacht, first-class. Those are his true loves; “what excites him most in the world and the only thing he dares to speak about with warmth and faith and without becoming flustered in front of people… You see: it is not the work of his hands or his idea, and consequently… that’s it. ” “But, Señor Don Adrián,” his friend said jokingly, “you’ve gone too far, you’ve squandered yourself… because a yacht of that quality can’t be bought with two cents. ” “Good heavens! I believe it!… But don’t you think that the poor apothecary… Nah! Well, these are the times, thank God, for such bloodletting… good heavens, good heavens! No, sir. The origin of the yacht is another story, Señor Don Alejandro. You see. Leto, as I told you, does everything… that’s it; And just as he paints and sails… because sailing is already old hat to him, he roams the mountains and ravines with his shotgun slung over his shoulder, and he knows the region herb by herb and stone by stone… that’s it. Well, sir, a mine was discovered here a few years ago; an English company bought it, and an engineer from there came to exploit it. This Englishman was young, something of an Arlote like all Englishmen, and very down-to-earth and very determined in everything; Leto and he met at the Casino; it turned out they had the same interests, and they became very good friends. The Englishman liked mushrooms; well, Leto was already telling him where there were legitimate ones, without the slightest suspicion of poisonous fungi, and accompanying him to pick them… that’s right: half a day in the country; watercress, then in such a place; then to look for watercress; then snails or frogs or any other of the many filth that man devoured… well, to both of them. that this kind of hunting or that Another: the same. Leto had a boat, a bad one, of course; but it sailed well; the Englishman was a real pain in the neck for that fun in which he was a grand master… hell, I believe it! since he was from the Royal Club of his homeland, and had won I don’t know how many honorable prizes in famous regattas… that’s it… ugh! and a very important and wealthy man, yes, sir… and handsome… well, he hit the boat all the time… and atrocity comes and goes… because I don’t know how they didn’t end up in one of them. That’s it. On the other hand, he was in love with our bay, which, as you know, is one of the best in the world, as intelligent foreigners have said and confessed… hell, it’s a good thing! And being in love with the bay and with Leto’s hobby and art, not being able to acquire a boat here to his liking, he had a beautiful racing yacht that he had back home brought to him, using dint of money so that it would arrive quickly. Well, sir, the yacht is coming, and Leto, alongside the Englishman, is learning to steer it in four days, and my son is going half crazy, gosh! from pure enjoyment of that… well, that delight, that’s what it is, so new to him… and the two of you set out to sea until you lose sight of each other, and you tack this way and that, bumping the bumpers into the water and making me go through hell with fright and anguish, that’s how it is… until I convinced myself that it wasn’t as dangerous as it seemed… Anyway, Señor Don Alejandro, Leto and the Englishman were always on equal terms; the time came for the engineer to go somewhere else because the mine went belly up, and when he left he gave the yacht to my son, gosh! whether you like it or not, with all its belongings and paraphernalia… That’s it. And that’s why Leto has such a luxurious yacht. Every Monday and Tuesday, he tosses him around at sea. Yesterday he left mid-morning, with his corresponding provisions, just in case… that’s it. Well, he came back between day and night, as I told you in my letter. I wanted him to go up to Peleches today… well , damn it! He practically begged me on his knees not to give him commissions of that kind. Going up with me was another matter, and I would even do it with great pleasure; but alone… it’s too much of a tall tale! That’s what we settled on in the end; and wondering whether I would dare to go up this afternoon or not, his friend the Naval Aide arrived, with whom he had a pending game of billiards… because this is another of his hobbies and the only vice, that is, that is known to him; and they went to the Casino shortly before you arrived… I am truly sorry for that , damn it! because they would all have known each other here, and we would have had a head start… That’s it. “And that’s quite enough, baskets!” said Bermúdez, twisting and turning on his stool, “and even more than enough to make us want to get up close and personal with that nice, sweet young man… Man, I’ve got an idea: you two come up tomorrow and have lunch with us at Peleches… It had to be; so let’s get it done early, and that way poor Leto will take the chill off his face, like lazy bathers, after a dip… ha ha!… Isn’t that right, Nieves? ” “I think it’s a great idea,” she replied, handing the watercolors to Don Adrián at the same time . “And tell him, for me, that when he goes, he’ll bring us some more works of this kind, so we can see them… and admire them… Oh, how well he does it, Don Adrián! I wish I were capable of even half of that! ” “Really, miss?” asked the apothecary, moved with delight. “And be careful!” said Don Alejandro, “this one is a member of the profession, and your vote is therefore of a quality. ” “Good heavens! That’s right… Yes, sir, that’s right. As for the banquet, I accept it with all my heart and soul, my lord Don Alejandro… About the boy, I don’t know what to say to you: he will always come up with the usual excuse when it’s convenient for him to hide the package: that one of us can’t be missing from here, knowing, as he does, that the young man is more than enough, yes, sir, for ordinary service ; because he has good standing… that’s true… But in a case like this, he may go… He will go, yes, sir, he will go. It’s astonishing, as I’ve told you, either short, or I don’t know what; but it’s spread all over the world, There’s a light in there… exactly; he knows how to distinguish between colors, he already considers you… gosh, he does!… And he wouldn’t commit a discourtesy to anyone even if they hanged him… Now, as for taking the paints with him, that’s a different story… and I’m not responsible for that… Anyway, we’ll do everything possible, that’s it… And a million thanks for your courtesy, gentlemen. Don Claudio Fuertes entered into this, and they talked about other things; and when the moment arrived for the three of them to go out and look around the town, the apothecary said to the retired commander: “If you touch at the dock, show them the yacht, although it’s anchored a bit far out. They already know everything… That’s it. Chapter 10. Long Shots. This is how the apothecary Don Adrián Pérez and his son Leto appeared in Peleches at half past twelve : the former radiant with joy, and the latter not as terrified as might have been feared from what we know about him. The reason for this novelty, following the image of the lazy bather noted by Don Alejandro at the apothecary, was that Leto, before the big plunge in the Bermúdez mansion, had been preparing the equilibrium of the two temperatures with a couple of fairly regular scrubbings. He did it one time at the Casino; the other, upon leaving high mass the following day, which was a holiday, that is, the very day of the reception. At the Casino, he must have had something to do with the general conversation, deliberately alluded to by Bermúdez; and even more than with the conversation, with the sweetness radiated in that insipid den by the eyes and silhouette of the Sevillian enchantress. Because Leto, after all, was a young man of good taste, and women of that art who regarded him with the kind interest with which Nieves often regarded him, had not been, nor would ever be, to Villavieja. That for now. Furthermore, as the gathering broke up and he was already taking leave of him, Don Alejandro had said with great earnestness, while squeezing one of his hands with both of his: “Tomorrow, after we eat in Peleches, we’ll go see the yacht; but up close and as it should be seen. Let it be known that you have been notified. ” “After we eat… let’s see the yacht!” the young man repeated to himself, entangled in the strangest confusions, while he responded to the expressive Bermúdez with four badly woven words of courtesy. “What was the plural of ‘let’s eat’? How many and who were on board?” Without unraveling this mess, which flashed through his head like a flash, he heard Nieves say, also in farewell and also very affectionately: “And when you come up to eat with us, don’t forget some watercolors we’d like to see. ” This was now clearer; but not as clear as it should have been. There was no doubt that his father had had his fill that afternoon at the pharmacy. As soon as the Peleches family left the casino, he wasted no time in setting off for his own home. In two strides, he arrived; in a few words, he informed his father of everything that had just happened to him, and in a few more, the apothecary satisfied his curiosity by telling him everything that had happened that afternoon at the pharmacy. By the way, Don Adrián rolled his left sleeve up to his elbow, and the arch of his eyebrows up to his cap, from scratching himself and being amazed at seeing that Leto, from whom he had expected a bang, didn’t object the slightest bit about the banquet, and about the watercolors, he delivered three consecutive “carapes” and some very sweet rubbings of his hands and beards. When the people left high mass, Leto, as usual, remained with other friends in front of the portico, having a cigarette, a paragraph, and a few mechanical glances at the everyday women of Villavieja; and talking, smoking, and looking, he saw Nieves leave with her father. He had thought very well of the Sevillian woman the night before in the foul-smelling gloom of the Casino, with her little straw hat and wafer-colored tunic; But beware if she had to see him in broad daylight, dressed in dark clothes and with her lovely face framed in the graceful folds of her mantilla of pure Andalusian caste! He could not help but declare it thus to the the prosecutor who was at her side ogling her, nor, upon noticing that she reminded him of something with his eyes, perhaps about the watercolors, could he fail to approach her and her father to offer his respects, with the best of intentions, of course, but God knows, with the strongest ties of his native distrust of spirit. While the three of them were talking, the Villavejana _gummy_ was sucking her fingers and didn’t know which side to take or what nonsense to invent to get Nieves _to stick it_… just like the gummy everywhere! and the well-dressed women looked at her out of the corner of their eyes as they passed by, from head to toe, just like all the pretentious women in the world! because those are ailments that are in the mass of the blood, even in that of those who wear loincloths… It is possible that Nieves did not notice either of them , although it is hard to believe given what is known of the prodigious range of vision that beautiful women have for such and similar affairs; but you could bet something good that in the mental comparison she made, after looking him up and down in less than two seconds, of the Leto before her, dressed for a holiday, with the Leto of the previous day, disheveled, ardent, and with disheveled hair and unruly beard, although both were handsome, she opted for the latter; that is, for the Leto of the billiards, in quality, it is understood, as an artistic and hard-working woman. At this point, Don Adrián emerged with his new frock coat, a cane cane, a very tall top hat , and two fingers of shirt collar hanging out of his bow tie; he approached the group and greeted the gentlemen very courteously; The judge appeared and did the same; then Rufita González with her mother; almost at the same time Codillo and the three Indianas, and immediately afterward up to another dozen more of the notables who had already made the obligatory visit to Peleches. The Vélez family, thin and limp in dress and flesh, passed by to the left, greeting each other with a very ceremonious nod. The short Carreñas women, like an arm of the sea, but of a sinister and rough sea, greeted each other with their fans and cleared their throats, and left to the right. The group continued to grow and eventually occupied half the small square with the adjacent gummy bears and other unoccupied people of different stripes. Then everything began to move together, although changing shape like a mass of water that adapts to the channel that guides it, in the direction of the Costanilla, on the way to Peleches and at the same time to the Glorieta, where all the elegant people of Villavieja were headed at that time, according to the whims of fashion. At the Glorieta, Nieves and his father took a few turns with the followers they’d brought from the Collegiate Church, followed by the same _zaguanete_ of gomosos, which inflamed the ire of the scattered women of Villaveja, then neglected by their usual suitors, and gave them cause to skin poor Nieves alive. It is known that the one who bit the hardest in that bidding of bites was the Chief Clerk, who, according to rumor, was head over heels for the apothecary’s son. She had seen him leaving mass and going up to the Glorieta, and at the Glorieta itself, snuggled up to the Sevillian woman, and very intimate with her on a few occasions. The utter fool who never had two words to pay for the many with which she had sought his tongue on more than four occasions! So as soon as Nieves and her father retired to Peleches, which was very early, and the apothecary and Leto to their pharmacy, all hell broke loose in the Glorieta between the gentlemen of Villavieja and their respective ladies, who did not want to be second-rate food… while Maravillas, sitting on the last bench facing the sea, alone, quiet and calm, lashed out with his eternal smile of compassionate disdain, that picture of human misery, the natural and logical fruit of the lamentable aftertaste of going to mass and believing in God. Coming to what matters, it was the case that Leto went down to the town quite satisfied with his feat; that despite being well dressed, he changed his tie and waistcoat after arranging his hair, brushing his beard and clothes a lot and washing his hands; that upon returning to the pharmacy, where his father was waiting for him in conversation with the young man, he called Cornias—it will later be known who this man was—and gave him several orders with great urgency. He then went to his lectern and, from a folder he had hidden there beneath scraps of paper and tomes, took out up to a dozen of his own works, including watercolors and drawings, chosen, very chosen, from his extensive collection. He wrapped them up appropriately, and ten minutes later, he and his father were crossing the sun-filled, scorching square toward Peleches. “You see, Leto,” his father would say, very gleefully, in a low voice so that the people returning from the Glorieta wouldn’t hear the conversation, “how the lion isn’t as fierce as he’s painted. Many times we hallucinate… that’s right… we get confused, from seeing and judging things from afar. And you, damn it! That’s happened to you a lot.” I tell you, because at last you’re going, gosh! You’re going, yes, sir, and without much resistance, and you’re even carrying those little paintings with you… well carried, very well carried! that’s it; very well carried, for the very reason that they’ve asked you for them and want to see them… I thought… there you have it!… that you wouldn’t lend yourself to it, because you’ve always hidden them even from me, for those odd things, gosh! that I’ve never been able to explain… that’s it… But the force of events has decided that the lion should get into your hands; and, as I was saying before, it didn’t seem as fierce to you as it did when seen from a long distance… that’s it… and now you’re giving in, gosh! Leto, smiling in a certain way habitual to him, answered his father: “If you only knew the procession that goes on inside me!” “Oh, Leto of my heart!” replied Don Adrián, standing at attention. Well, if we were going to processions… who, in such cases, wouldn’t take them with them, more or less, damn it, to the point of making their little balls tremble? We’re going to a strange and ostentatious house, to a perhaps lavish table… that’s it… two men accustomed to a dark and methodical life … the most methodical and simple… that’s it… The excitement… the shock, if you will, is necessary… But that’s one thing, and what else is happening to you, or was happening to you, is quite another… Anyway, there’s no need to go into this again, Leto. But I must repeat, in conclusion, what I told you last night: one must draw strength from weakness in certain situations of life… and rise above, that’s it, one’s native weaknesses… because there is no man without a man… and we all owe each other mutual services and respect… that’s it… You’re a young man; You lack nothing, it’s true… and perhaps you never will, no matter how long you live, if the fortunate tranquility of Villavieja continues unaltered and you don’t have a competitor in your trade, as I haven’t had since I became an apothecary; but it’s possible that you will, because evil is rife and is no longer far from us… or that something better than what you possess may suit you; and then, damn it! It’s good to have supporters… and you well know that the House of Peleches ranks as high everywhere as the highest… and since they’re giving us the heifer, let’s run with the rope, damn it!… and very grateful, yes, sir; and our hearts on the tip of our tongues, that ‘s right; and whoever has something on their mind, as you certainly do, noble and honorable too, yes, sir, let them show it, damn it! if it comes to it that it is necessary to do so with fortitude and faith, for this is not at odds with good manners, nor even, that is, with Christian humility. When God gives man the wealth of ideas, it is not given to him, damn it! to be kept greedily, nor to be squandered, forged or secretly and shamefully: no, sir, damn it! no, sir… like you’ve been doing… That’s it. He tapped his cane twice on the ground and continued walking up the street. Leto, thoughtful and quite smiling, but without answering him a word, did the same at his side. Thus they arrived at Peleches, where Nieves’s little workroom, or rather study, had the balcony doors wide open to let in the northeast wind that was rushing in, saturated with the The scent of the sea was received by the masters of the house and by Don Claudio Fuertes, who had also been invited to dine. Nieves had changed her dark dress for an almost white one; and when Leto saw her like that, her dress white, her complexion white, her eyes blue, and her hair blond, since nothing but nonsense could occur to him, he immediately forged her into a Nereid, or something similar, from the fantastic underwater regions, sent there by the protective spirits of Peleches, enveloped in a salty gust of wind that constantly flooded the room. In another quick glance around that little room, he thought he’d seen the soft, intelligent hand of an artist, placing each piece of furniture, each book, and each knick-knack in its proper place; and what a greater nonsense! He even marked with his eyes on the walls and on certain pieces of furniture the places and objects where his watercolors, if not as bad as they were, would have made a brilliant impression. Thinking this nonsense and staring at the folder he was carrying, and even asking him immediately if he had them, was all in one. The young man found himself faced with that unexpected shot, like a cowardly smuggler in front of the police. Barely pausing to salute as he should, he untied the bundle and handed over the contents with trembling hands, but determined to do anything. If Nieves is to be believed, and there are no serious reasons to the contrary, there were true marvels of art in those works by Leto. Bermúdez and Fuertes were of the same opinion; But her votes were not as authoritative as Nieves’s, who, to the further confusion of the stunned Leto, not content with seeing the paintings on her knees, was placing them one by one… where, great God! on the same furniture and in the same places on the walls where he had imagined them… And all this, the little Sevillian, with her slightly furrowed brow, her concise and sober phrases, without extremes in her praise, without rushing, without smiling more than necessary, gliding between chairs and nightstands without bumping into anything, subtle, graceful, discreet… in short, from what she said, from the way she said it, and even from the way she walked, one had to believe her intelligent in art, and certainly sincere. With this and with Leto’s natural propensity to submit his judgments to the power of strangers, for the first time in his life he believed himself to be something of a painter and not entirely insignificant. “Well, now you’re going to see my works,” Nieves told him very calmly, leaving Leto’s on a nightstand, “if only so that you might learn, given how bad they are, not to be so stingy with yours. ” And as she said it, she did, taking them out of a large folder that was on a small table next to an unoccupied easel. “Most of them,” Nieves said to Leto alone, although he was accompanied on the scene by the other characters there present, “are copies, and bad ones: the originals are worse… Don’t smile, because it’s the pure truth… Look at that gypsy… a copy, harsh and out of tune, and even without a drawing… A seascape… What waves, eh? They look like calico… A window with flowers and caged birds: from our house in Seville. This watercolor is an original: you should recognize it by how worn the color is…” It was by this art that he continued to show and judge most of his works. Sometimes , while Leto was examining one, holding it in both hands, Nieves would slip another of her own, white, rounded, and fragrant, between them to place her exquisite index finger on the object being censured; and then Leto would lose sight of the watercolor, because his eyes would wander behind his hand, and his attention and even his sense of smell… Don Adrián and the Commander thought the paintings were unsurpassable, and they declared so; and Don Alejandro, ill-attuned to his daughter’s sincerity, wanted to discredit them by explaining how and why… As for Leto, unable to conceive that imperfect works could come from such beautiful hands , he found everything superior, and so he made it clear as best he could. “Everything you tell me,” Nieves insisted very calmly, “is pure.” Courtesy. None of these works has any merit other than that they were done with a great desire to do better. I know it for the same reason that I know how to appreciate good ones, like yours; but I continue painting because it entertains me, and I show what I paint, as now, so as not to make myself beggars later and because I don’t consider it a mortal sin… In oils, frankly , I paint somewhat better than in gouache… You’ll see, Leto, who understands, when I paint something here… because I plan to paint a lot… and walk more… All the places where I previously put your cards will be occupied by my works… I count on you to let me copy yours for that purpose. Leto, who had already dreamed of seeing them honored there, was deceived and declared to Nieves that those insignificant smudges would not return to the apothecary’s portfolio , since she liked them; And Nieves, without making any idle pretenses, because she knew the sincerity of the offer, accepted it with great joy, although not as much as Leto’s gallant gesture produced in Don Adrián. While these and other such conversations were going on, Catana arrived at the small parlor to announce that the soup was on the table; and as everyone was preparing to go to the dining room, Leto, remembering something he had seen and heard in Madrid and read later, making a superhuman effort and holding his teeth together for fear of being too polite or of being mistaken, offered his arm to Nieves, who accepted it with pleasure and as the most ordinary and natural thing in the world. The other diners made way for the couple, who were followed by Bermúdez, very pleased, Fuertes, somewhat amazed, and Don Adrián, even proud of that gallant outburst of the sinful young man. Chapter 11. The “Flash.” During the meal, which was as “lavish” as Don Adrián Pérez had hypothetically announced to his son as they walked toward Peleches, Leto had several more proofs that the lion was not as fierce as he was painted: he even felt quite comfortable locked in the cage with him. For it also happened that, having exhausted the point of Nieves’s pictorial opinions, Don Claudio Fuertes suddenly and abruptly came out, saying to her: “In this very place, and upon hearing that you liked promenades by the sea very much, I promised you the day before yesterday that you would have no lack of means to satisfy that desire, if you insisted on it. ” “And I haven’t forgotten the promise,” Nieves responded, “nor am I prepared to forgive you for it. ” “Congratulations,” said Don Claudio Fuertes; and then, turning to the apothecary’s son, he added: “Have you heard it, Leto? ” “Yes, I have,” Leto replied. But why is this question? Because the tale is with you. With me? Yes, sir, with you; because when I made that promise to Nieves, I was counting on your sloop, your nautical competence, and your gallantry. So let’s see if you dare to put us in a bad light now with this young lady and her father, who has no other desire than to please her. It cost Leto very little effort to appear courteous and even generous in this matter; because precisely the sloop, its seamanship, its deeds and bravery, and the high qualities of the generous friend who had given him the gift, were the topics of conversation that most pleased him; the only ones with which he allowed himself to go, talking and talking, to the calm course of his ideas, without the slightest protest from that psychological devil who ruined everything when his praise or judgments fell on something born of his own intuition, or, even if it was his own, whose merits were not consecrated by another judgment of indisputable authority. The damned distrust! He spoke, then, of the sloop for a good part of the meal, after placing it, and placing himself, under Nieves’ orders to direct it; of the beauty and comfort of the bay for people who were content with little to scuttle around in it with a well-planked breeze ; of the intensity of this same pleasure received on the high seas; of the Englishman, his friend, with whom so many He had liked him at times; of his skill, his courage, his character… he even spoke at length about Cornias, because it was necessary for him to speak of him. Cornias was a small lad, cross-eyed, born and raised in Villavieja. From a young age, he worked in the pharmacy for certain mechanical needs. He understood something about the sea, for he was the son of a fisherman and a sardine seller. When Leto had a boat, Cornias took care of it and served as his sailor. He was clever and brave; and as soon as the sloop arrived from England, at Leto’s recommendation, he was in charge of performing the same services on it as on the boat. If Cornias was enthusiastic about that beautiful ship, the Englishman was enamored with Cornias, for his appearance, his affability, and his intelligence in learning the maneuvers. In a short time, he became familiar with everything and was able to handle the sloop so beautifully: he loved him like the apple of his eye. At the time of the story, Cornias, while still a ship’s quarters, continued to be a worker in the apothecary and its ancillary establishment. He wielded the mortar pestle to grind cantharides, his mouth and nostrils covered with a handkerchief, or cream or mustard with his face uncovered. He also wielded the hoe handle to cover the belladonna, jimsonweed, and hemlock the apothecary grew in his garden, or he hoisted the mainsail or covered a shroud. He neither drank nor smoked, nor could he resist shoes, cap, or jacket. He normally wore no other clothing than his shirt and trousers, with the legs rolled up to his calves and the sleeves to his elbows. Yet, even so, Cornias appeared clean and pleasant. There was no need to speak of his honesty and loyalty, for one could blindly hand him ground gold. He was known by that nickname because he was cross-eyed. Cornias was a corruption or degeneration, forced by the beach boys, of the word “bizcornio” (cross-eyed); and he answered to Cornias, having already forgotten his baptismal name. After Leto had made, and not without grace, this sketch of his sailor, ratified by Don Adrián, who loved him very much as a servant in his pharmacy, he returned to what he had already discussed. One could sail his sloop with the same confidence as a three-decker ship. They would be convinced of this as soon as they saw him, as they were to see him very soon. Nieves didn’t doubt it; her father, just like that; Don Claudio denied such safety even on a three-decker ship. And as for the apothecary, he had proof of what his son had said, that he had done two hundred times with his sloop, much more than would have been enough to ensure that, on the first occasion, any other vessel of equal caliber would remain at sea for ever and ever . As the meal was plentiful and they talked much about many things, the session was long and very entertaining; so that when Don Claudio Fuertes and Don Adrián Pérez gave the last strokes of the whip to the last of the respective glasses that Don Alejandro had been serving them with their coffee, it was already well into the afternoon. Nieves, who had been absent from the dining room for some time, was being fitted by her maid in her country brodequines of fine, undyed calfskin, and the breeze remained fresh and well-grounded, so that the heat was not bothersome outside, although the sun shone unhindered by a single cloud. With this in mind, only those in the dining room were waiting for Nieves’s return to leave with her on the planned visit to Leto’s sloop, the first item on the program for that afternoon. Nieves didn’t keep her waiting long; and when she appeared at the dining room door, putting on her gloves and with her hat slightly fallen over her eyes, a very tight waistline, and a carnation in her mouth, her father looked at her for a moment with the same suspicious and alarming eye he had on the memorable occasion when she had appeared before him in Seville, freshly dressed to have her portrait taken. But what a difference in setting, even though the two scenes were similar, almost identical! There, the stale and corrupting atmosphere of a great capital; in Peleches, the limitless horizons; The pure, healthy air of the countryside and the sea; the temptations to give up, in the city at every turn; in those grandiose solitudes , not even if they were sought with a candle… And good old Bermúdez could not help it : possessed by his theme and delighted to see himself where he was, the best spot on earth to put it into action and sleep peacefully under the protection of its miraculous virtue, taking as a pretext the murmur and the aroma of the breeze that circulated through every room and corner of the house, he sang a hymn of admiration to august Nature, and at the end of it he uttered the customary _sorites_ to the commander and the apothecary, while Leto gave Nieves his arm to go down the stairs. The path chosen to go to the dock was the Miradorio; and the five took it in the same order in which they had left the house: Nieves and Leto in front, and immediately after the three grave gentlemen: the one from Peleches in the middle. From the top of the path, Nieves contemplated the sea and everything she could see to the left; and some good thoughts occurred to her, especially about the sea. Leto kept having thoughts as well; but fearing they were nonsense, he limited himself to glossing over Nieves’s ideas a little. Nieves, in one of these, by squeezing it too hard with her teeth while she was talking, cut the stem of the carnation. Leto picked it up from the ground as soon as it fell, and tried to give it back to Nieves… “It’s no good anymore,” Nieves said after looking at it for a moment; “you can throw it, if you want.” And Leto, without further ado, threw it, out of pure obedience. “You can see the sloop,” he said at the same time. “Which is it?” Nieves asked. “The only boat of those four that’s rigged. ” “What a big sail it has! ” “How many are at home.” Cornias hasn’t been pulling his punches; he’s aired all his dirty laundry… What a beautiful day at sea! “Listen, Leto,” Nieves said very privately, after noticing out of the corner of her eye that those coming behind couldn’t hear her, “when we’re on the sloop and have seen him, suggest to my father that we take a walk around the bay. ” “I was already thinking about that,” Leto responded proudly. “And if Papa agrees to it, which he will,” Nieves continued even more quietly, “just like that, you can head out to sea… eh? ” “Perfectly,” Leto responded, “and in this way we’ll gradually test your resistance to seasickness… ” “Oh! I’ll answer for that, of course,” Nieves said with great confidence. I’ve had good tests in Bonanza and Cádiz, and there’s no way I’m going to get seasick. ” “So much the better, then.” The dock at that unknown port consisted of a large rectangular deck on a dozen rickety piles that could no longer bear the load when the English miners properly repaired them. This entire crude device was attached to a very spacious and firm platform, constructed by nature, to which, from the penultimate turn of the descent, the mine road, almost parallel to the coast, and the Miradorio path, which headed south from the junction, ended in a single section. When Peleches’s five guests arrived at the dock, Cornias wanted to dock the sloop, which was separated by about two or three fathoms, to the boarding ladder, which was quite short at that time because the tide was very high; but Leto signaled him not to move. The sloop had the flag with a royal crown in its beak and a blue flagpole with a white F at the top. With all the sails unfurled and the sheets abeam , the sails flapped as they caught the wind, and their cracking or flapping could be heard from the dock. Cornias had somewhat exceeded the orders he had received: although the sloop had everything in its place on that occasion, but not so clearly; among other reasons, because the flapping of the unfurled sails, after causing the ship to roll, made the mast work uselessly. But Cornias, who He was enthusiastic about it all together, and thought he would make the best of it by flaunting it at once at such an important hour. The poor lad’s mistake. The well-bred steed, to show off its gallantry, was either barebacked and free, or leased by its rider. Leto understood this, and with a very expressive signal and four energetic words addressed to Cornias, the sloop went, gathering all its canvas, like a seagull its wings as it gently settles on the ocean wave. “Now the hull can be seen better in all the purity of its lines,” Leto said to those around him, but particularly to Nieves, who seemed most attentive to the explanation he had begun to give. According to that explanation, from what could be seen from the dock and what he was pointing out from the little boat, either on his own initiative or in response to questions asked of him, the hull of his Flash Centella had a very projecting bow and stern, or protruding bow, and was sucked in by the bow side and subdued by the sternpost, the piece where the rudder is hinged, that is, moving forward; in short, it was one of those called a wedge hull, in the English style, with a deep draft. The advantage of having a very projecting bow and stern was that when the boat heeled, that is, leaned to one side, the protrusions touched the water and increased the length of the hull, giving it greater stability, which is why boats of this class tacked closely and turned very easily. To compensate for the thinness and narrowness of the vessel with the excessive height of its rigging, the Flash had a lead shoe or false keel, attached to the true keel with passing pins. This provided complete, absolute security, as it heeled over, preventing its keel from hitting the sun. That hollow, hatch-like space visible in the last third of the deck, toward the stern, with benches around it and a slightly projecting rim that formed the backrest, technically a coaming, was the place for the helm and those with him. The hole was called the well; and the small temple that rose between the masthead and the bow side of the well, with skylights on the sides and metal bars to protect them, was the tambucho, or dome of the cabin below, quite convenient, as it would soon be seen, because there was nothing else on the sloop worth explaining or seeing from the dock. The diligent Cornias climbed onto the ladder at a signal from Leto, and they all went down: Nieves holding the hand of the unknown Leto; Bermúdez and the apothecary, struggling, and Don Claudio Fuertes protesting that this was it and nothing further. Cornias, according to what Leto had painted on the table, but wearing white trousers and a polka-dotted shirt, if not new, then recently stretched, was holding the sloop moored to the ladder’s rung, his nails digging into the planks. The visitors jumped aboard by the top of the last exposed step; and seeing how _sharp_ the floor was, which was also swaying, everyone, except Nieves and Leto, slid into the shaft. “Disabuse yourselves,” said Fuertes, sitting down, “this doesn’t bear the mark of judgment… nor do those involved in it… Ah!” “Well, let all those rags billow up and the wind start to tangle them up… Not even Saint Paul would stop here without breaking his neck on something or throwing his guts out!” “Truly,” replied Don Adrian, balancing his shoulders, although the swaying was very insignificant, “it’s not easy to explain, damn it! So much enthusiasm and so much… that’s it… that’s what that boy has… and his friend had for these amusements… For sure, gentlemen, this is the first time in my life that I’ve seen myself here… and it seems as new to me, that’s what I’m seeing, as it is to you. From land I’ve seen this little boat several times, sometimes stationary and sometimes moving… and what a moving thing, damn it! Come on, there was occasion to turn my head… so as not to see it… It’s the truth, yes, sir, damn it!” –I say, and that’s you, who are a fish of the sea!… Well, what will happen to me , who am from the dry lands of Astorga? “Canástoles,” Don Alejandro jumped in, “with these brave men!… I don’t swallow men raw, far from it; but I don’t even turn up my nose at having a cataplea in those waters. ” “For now, my lord Don Alejandro,” Fuertes answered with a certain sarcasm, “you were one of the three brave men who snuck into the well to get on the sloop; and afterward, look here, I found myself face to face with the Moors at Monte Negrón and at Los Castillejos, and even at Wad-Ras, which was more bitter than you imagined; and without pretending to be brave when I said it, I neither lost my composure, nor my courage… nor my desire to strike; because that was something else: there was at least solid ground on which to stand… and on which to die, if necessary, defending my life honestly.” but this is giving yourself over to death tied hand and foot and already in the coffin… Leto, while those in the pit were talking this way, was explaining to Nieves the advantages of a mast like the Flash’s, made up of two pieces, the larger, or topmast, and the smaller, or topmast, with its drum and crosspiece between them, over the entire mast, or one piece; how the mast was fixed to the bottom of the hull, its lower tenon fitting into a mortise called a cockpit, and was then secured by means of the ropes he pointed out and were called shrouds and stays: the shrouds came down from the encapilladura, next to the crosspiece, and the stays from their own at the start of the gallopillo, or upper end of the mast; what was the boom, what was the gaff , and how it was handled and with what ropes or halyards, each of the four sails that the yacht had – mainsail, staysail, scandalous for good times, and flying jib for downwind. The hole that was halfway through the deck, between the well and the starboard side, was the bilge pump, much used, because in the upwind, when the sloop was close-hauled, a lot of water would take on board the well: sprays and garranchos, depending on the state of the sea; one piece was the cleat for the maneuvering halyards; others, the cleats to secure the jib and staysheets; another on the same floor next to the hole in the chain locker, the hawser, in which the bowsprit kick was made firm, etc., etc. Leto gave Nieves many, many details , calling each thing by its technical name, because that’s what the spirited Sevillian wanted. When he had nothing more to explain to her on deck, he said: “Let’s go now, if you wish, to see the cabin.” The cabin was entered through the well, on the bow side of which was the double-leaf door with a sliding quarter-turn. Leto opened it and the five people entered , Don Adrián having to take his hat off because the ceiling wasn’t high enough for a hat like his, placed on his head . Otherwise, there was plenty of room for the visitors to move around comfortably. Nieves marveled at this and at the care with which everything was arranged and executed in that microscopic room, which seemed even luxurious. On each side of the door was a small wardrobe, and another larger one opposite it; On either side of the other two in the room, a comfortable divan, and in the center a small table bolted to the floor, its wings arranged so that it could serve a dozen diners. Leto removed one of the cushions and lifted the board on which he was lying; and the board proved to be the lid of a long, well -stocked drawer, for from it the apothecary’s son took out two large, superior waterproofs; a full sea suit; half a dozen beautiful towels and two bath sheets, and a few other similar objects; all of this had been placed there by the cautious and swaggering Englishman, as well as toiletries and fishing tackle, exquisite and comforting liquors, and books in English—unfortunately for Leto—that dealt, with excellent drawings, with matters pertinent to every imaginable purpose of the ship, which were kept in the cupboards. Leto kept everything where and as the Englishman had left out of affectionate respect for the memory of his friend. In the center of the top of the largest of the cabinets was a polished metal plate with two names engraved above a date. Pointing to the names, Leto said, “This is the sloop’s coat of arms: Mr. Watson and Mr. Fife: the most famous engineer and yacht builder in England. Should I be grateful to a man who left me such a rich token of his friendship? And my father is sometimes surprised by the care with which I treat her!… Well, now we must see, practically, her seaworthiness, which I have praised so much, if it doesn’t bother Nieves and Señor Don Alejandro consents… ” “Gentlemen,” said Don Claudio upon hearing this, suddenly rising and walking toward the door, “there’s one too many here, and that’s me. ” “But, Don Claudio!” exclaimed Nieves, laughing at his friend’s outburst . “Nothing, nothing: each one is each one, and I know very well what I’m doing… And you know it too by coming with me, Señor Don Adrián,” added Fuertes, turning for a moment to the apothecary. ” Because I assume that you won’t stay either, even if you get hanged. ” “Truly,” replied the aforementioned, who was somewhat restless due to his lack of frankness, moving a little towards the door, “I’m not the most suitable for this kind… that’s it… of entertainment… On the other hand, damn it! My age… that’s what it is. So that, if it weren’t taken the wrong way… ” “What’s there to take, man!” said Don Claudio, turning to take him by the arm. “And even if it were… Come, come, Don Adrián; and you’ll see how beautifully we can study the seafaring conditions of the Flash… from dry land. ” “Be it known, Mr. Moor-slayer,” said Bermúdez from the doorway of the cabin as the commander was emerging from the well, towing the apothecary, “that not only do I give the permission Leto has asked for, but I’m staying, and with pleasure… with great pleasure, baskets! while you leave. ” “With pleasure, eh?” responded Fuertes without turning his face. “Oh! My lord Don Alejandro… if only there were mirrors to see men from within on certain occasions!… Cornias, pull the boat a little closer, son… Like that… Aha! Careful, Don Adrián… Come on… That ‘s it… Having fun, gentlemen! How they put you between Nieves and her father from the yacht! ” “Now to work,” said Leto to his aide-de-camp, without listening to either of them , because he was already feverishly consumed by his glories. “You, Nieves, sit here; And you, Don Alejandro, at her side… Perfectly… Cornias!… Cast off, now let’s clear the jib… Good… There you go… Peak halyard ready!… I’ll go to the headstay… Hoist! The maneuver completed in order, the extensive canvas swelled, and the ship fell to the opposite side, now sailing. “There’s no need to be frightened, Nieves,” said Leto, smiling as he noticed in her, and particularly in her father, a certain movement of displeasure. “It’s the Flash’s salute at the arrival of the wind. ” “That courtesy seems fine to me,” replied Bermúdez, grabbing the coaming while Nieves smiled carelessly. “But everywhere , after the salute in the open air, people return to cover themselves and straighten up, and here I observe that things happen differently: the Flash, after saluting, continues bowing and going faster and better.” “It’s necessary, Señor Don Alejandro: it seems we’re almost bow to the wind. She’ll have to list even more. ” “Good consolation, man! ” “She’s already getting a taste for the water… Can you hear her savoring it? ” “And I also see,” responded Bermúdez, “that she’s putting it to other uses. Look, look, Nieves, how the damned man lies down, rubbing his ribs with it! What do you think of this, daughter? ” “Very well!” responded Nieves, fascinated by the event, with voracious eyes , her little mouth half-open, and her rosy nostrils throbbing . The ship had begun its free and easy course; and, constantly tacking to gain ground outwards, she kept listing. Bermúdez noticed he was uneasy and heard the gurney of the water beneath the stern bow; the creaking of the rigging poles and the crackling of the canvas, and he even began to see a strip of boiling foam running the length of the sloping helm, as if it were struggling to get inside. Leto read these precautions on his face and said, in an attempt to reassure Nieves, who certainly didn’t need it: “Please note that we’re only going with the jib and mainsail, and the sea is as smooth as oil. What would you say if we hoisted the stern up there, just as I would have done going alone? This is sailing in a flatboat! In any case, until you get more accustomed to these violent positions, don’t forget to hold on to the backrest. ” “Yes, yes,” replied Bermúdez, who couldn’t hold on any more than he was. But what I see is that the water flows whether it enters or not through this side, and we’re going to be throwing devils. “And even if it did enter, what? ” “Well, I say! As if it were the most usual and common thing! ” “And it is, Señor Don Alejandro; and the Flash is going so beautifully with a couple of deck planks underwater. ” “Canástoles! ” “Do you want to see it? Would you dare, Nieves? ” “Well, I shouldn’t dare?” she responded, as if surprised that Leto should doubt it. “Obviously, gentlemen, obviously,” Bermúdez said resolutely. “Canástoles!” This is enough to prove it, which is no small feat, without needing to tempt God. Nieves and Leto, and even Cornias, who was watching the scene half-sitting up on the roof of the hatch, burst out laughing. “Look, Papa,” she said suddenly, “how beautiful this bay coast is . So many little green islands that can barely be seen from home! And Don Claudio and Don Adrián? How far away they are!… Look at them!… I think they’re waving .
” “My daughter, ” Bermúdez responded, without turning toward her except intentionally, because his useful eye’s vision was obstructed by his nose, ” I need both arms to hold on, and all the willpower to keep my balance in this position. You answer them for me, if you don’t mind. ” “I’ll do it for everyone,” Nieves replied, turning her head toward the dock and waving her handkerchief with her left hand. After a few moments of silence, she added, listening very attentively toward the bow, “Look carefully, Papa. ” “At what, daughter? ” “At the noise the boat is making… As if it were dragging itself along on tissue paper. ” “Exactly,” Leto confirmed. And if you continue to pay attention to that noise, you’ll hear conversations, and muffled singing… and whatever else you want, until you end up falling asleep.” After this, everyone fell silent for a long time, as if trying to test Leto’s assertions, while the yacht continued gliding along at the same pace. Suddenly, Nieves said to Leto: “Well, you’re right: if you pay close attention to that noise, you can hear everything you want to hear… Don’t you think so, Papa? Look how flat, how bright, and how beautiful the bay is! It looks like a very large mirror. ” “Very large, very beautiful, and very flat,” Bermúdez responded, motionless and rigid, “and those things you say you can hear under the boat are very entertaining. Everything is fine, except for this damned position that doesn’t let me enjoy it. This is a cliff.” “Well, be careful now,” Leto warned him, smiling, “because she’s going to list a little more. ” “Even more, man?” Bermúdez exclaimed, wanting to dig his nails into the coaming. “And why? ” “Because I’m going to prepare to tack, giving the boat more speed.” Having said this, he turned the tiller to starboard; with which, the Flash presented a greater surface area to the wind, received a greater impulse from it; and the foamy festoon that was licking the outside of the port helm gave it a few licks inside. Then Leto shouted to his aide-de-camp: “Cornias… tack! Jump the jib sheet! ” Cornias obeyed in the air; Leto luffed vigorously, and the yacht tacked and righted itself, until it was horizontal, as Don Alexander, and, according to the language of the trade, _a fil de roda_, that is, face to face with the wind. In this position, the ship’s sails, unfilled and limp, began to crackle with such a noise that it frightened Bermúdez and surprised his daughter. “Now go over to this other side,” Leto told them, pointing to the frontier ship they were occupying in the well. They did so, taking great care not to hit their heads on the boom. The wind caught the sloop on that side, the rigging fell to the opposite; and, with the sails full again, the Flash began to sail to the right in the same way as it had done to the left. “You’ll notice,” said Leto, “that we’re going zigzag. With the wind on the bow, there’s no other way to climb these slopes. Now see how much progress we’re making on the way up.” It’s already hard to recognize Don Claudio and my father, who are moving away toward the town. “The truth is,” Bermúdez responded, “that with these adventures I had once again forgotten them.” From tack to tack, the Flash reached the wide mouth of the harbor. Don Alejandro, who kept an eye on the leeward helm, recognized her by the lurching of the ship, due to the slewing already there, and by a certain discomfort in his stomach. He then considered the distance traveled more than sufficient; and to the great regret of Nieves, who had all five senses focused on the adventures of the out-to-sea promenade, he turned the sloop around and headed for the dock. In this way, she was well afloat and without the setbacks that so bothered Don Alejandro. Taking this into account, Leto hoisted all the canvas; And sailing like that , Nieves and her father were able to appreciate how deserving the beautiful yacht was of the name Centella they had given it. “This is a very different thing,” Bermúdez said upon reaching the dock. ” Now you can sail freely. ” “Well, I like it the other way better,” his daughter replied. “It’s more exciting. ” “That’s the truth,” Leto added, jumping from the sloop to the ladder to shake Nieves’s hand, because the tide having dropped considerably, there were many and the exposed steps were very slippery. Neither Don Adrián nor Don Claudio had been around there for a while, nor was a living soul to be seen within ten cables’ distance of those beautiful spots that, because they were so solitary and silent, seemed enchanted… Chapter 12. After the walk. Having a plan in mind, as soon as the Peleches family, who had chosen the lower road to return home, showed a desire to stop at the pharmacy where the apothecary Don Adrián was already, Leto took his leave of them, claiming he had urgent business on his sloop. The apothecary had already put on his velvet cap and was sitting between doors, watching the elegant people pass by on their way to the Costanilla to go up to the Glorieta. The Peleches family also sat down; and after learning from Don Adrián that Don Claudio Fuertes had left him to go to the Casino for a while, they began to recount the adventures of their trip, praising the ship and even more highly the nautical skill and extreme kindness of his son. Meanwhile, his son was walking briskly toward the dock. When he reached it, he didn’t even think of getting into the sloop, which was two fathoms from the ladder: he limited himself to giving Cornias, who was busy hurriedly gathering the rigging, a few warnings on the matter, and immediately set off for the Miradorio road. The matter had been worrying him from the very moment it had happened. It didn’t matter a damn, after examining it closely; but it must have happened in a very different way… He walked and walked, thinking and walking, without looking from one side or the other, because he knew full well that looking was unnecessary until he reached the precise point, which was clearly marked in his memory… about half a yard to the right of the road… going up; because that had been going down, and then he was on the left… There, on such days and at such times, no one usually passed by; and even if they did, it would be the same for the case. Who would notice? And even if they did, would it be worth it, at first glance, to anyone to go through the trouble of bending in half? He walked another good stretch of the road, and suddenly stopped. “This is where it was,” he said to himself, “and this must be where it is.” He looked… and there it was: on a carpet of thick grass, and between two ferns and a pebble. The same carnation, double, bursting, and red, with the stem cut short: the one that Nieves had dropped from her mouth and that he had picked up… only to throw away because it was no longer useful to Nieves… This was the case. Having picked up the carnation, and after looking at it for a long time, and even examining the imprint of the Sevillian woman’s little teeth, he smelled it avidly. By a mechanical impulse—or not a mechanical one—she then brought it to her mouth; but by another, more pure impulse, she took it away from her. “That’s not the point,” she said to herself, holding the carnation in her hand with great care so that it wouldn’t lose its petals, “but something quite different… and more decent. For now, I’ll turn my head downwards, because there’s no need for the idiots of the Glorieta to peer at me; and let’s slowly put the case in its true light, as if I were bringing it before a tribunal of malicious people who would give this act of mine a meaning they liked. She turned around as she thought; and walking step by step, smelling the carnation from time to time and with her other hand on her hip, she was reasoning along the following lines: “The carnation fell from her mouth; I picked it up from the ground and wanted to give it to her.” She looked at him, stared blankly, and said to me: “It’s no good anymore, you can shoot it…” her exact words; and I shot it, God knows against my will. But she also added: “if you want.” That is to say, she left it up to me to choose whether to shoot it or not. This detail didn’t escape me either. But let’s suppose that I, exercising my right, had kept the carnation: I would already be giving the act a grave significance, however I executed it: by keeping quiet or by explaining it to her. In the first case, how could I justify my silence without authorizing Nieves to believe I was very interested in keeping the carnation? And in the second, I would have had to engage in a flurry of gallantry, which would almost certainly have seemed corny and unbecoming of a serious man who regards these gentlemen with the respectful esteem with which I do. In short, whether I kept silent or spoke, by keeping the carnation, I was failing to observe many considerations and declaring something that isn’t true. But Nieves, looking at the incident from her point of view as a woman, or as a spoiled girl, could very well have said to herself: “How rude!” or “What a mess !” And this is what pains me, in case she thought it and because I didn’t rightly deserve it, and what has been bothering me all afternoon , with the intention, moreover, of returning for this little carnation as soon as I could, and the fear of not finding it when I looked for it. Gosh, I’ve been worried about all that together! Now it’s different: I already have in my possession what I was looking for… “Well, I don’t understand,” anyone would say, “either the troubles I went through before or the peace of mind now; because what’s done is done, and the carnation, by itself, isn’t worth the trouble you took to come and collect it, as you have declared to be the truth.” Gosh, it is! “Common,” anyone would say to me again: “if what you’ve done is beyond repair, and the carnation, by itself, isn’t worth two centavos, why do you keep it?” What a brave, bad-faith remonstrance that would be! I pick up the carnation and keep it, out of… out of pure rectitude of conscience… well, to repair, in my own way, a mistake committed with a good purpose… Nieves will continue to think of me for that act, if by misfortune she noticed it, whatever she thinks best: holy and good; for I ‘ll be so satisfied knowing that her judgments are wrong, and that I have the proof of it in my possession. What a pain! Everyone is as God made them; and I am that way. And there’s no more, no less… and in the sun. When we reached the dock, after smelling it, he put the carnation in his pocket. of the chest, very carefully so that it wouldn’t be seen or torn. The sloop was now alone and in its usual anchorage. Leto continued walking; he reached the pharmacy, from which the Peleches men had already left; he went up to the room without stopping, entered his room; and, like someone with a well-considered resolution, he took from a drawer in his dresser a wallet album full of notes he had made in the countryside and on the coast, and there he placed the carnation, with great care, between two blank pages, after having scanned each of the ones containing drawings, with a keenness of attention unusual in the astonished pharmacist. “It could well be true,” he thought as he closed the clasps on the covers, leaving the carnation inside, “for I’m not doing too badly.” He returned the album to the drawer, locked it, went down to the pharmacy, and spent a good while with his father discussing the day’s events in Peleches and at sea. The apothecary was very pleased with them! And with Leto as well. He had behaved like a man and left his flag well set in every area… He would have liked to see him with a little more ease in the matter of pure courtesy; but he had done enough, yes, sir, enough, for what was to be feared; damn it, he had done! The scene ended with Leto going to the Casino, where the Naval Aide was waiting for him for a game of billiards that the two had arranged the night before, with Leto giving him up to fifteen points, plus the exit fee, as usual. To be honest, the apothecary’s son that night was not as scheming or as hasty as his custom, nor as ready for the prosecutor’s jokes. But it’s also true that the struggle in the bay, after the unusual excitement of the banquet, had left him somewhat unnerved, and the prosecutor allowed himself to take the jokes into rather bad taste. The fact that Señor de Bermúdez was missing an eye, as anyone could be, and that he, Leto, had been more or less attentive to his daughter, didn’t authorize anyone to question him at every turn, and in front of certain people, about the health, courage, the “save, ” and a thousand other things about the ” Macedonio ,” nor whether he took rods or not, or whether “the daughter of Darius” was soft- or stiff-necked. It was a great impropriety to speak like that about such respectable people, in a place like that… or anywhere else; and since he felt this way, he told the prosecutor so, with great regret, but determined that the jokes should cease. And
they ceased; but leaving Leto with certain dregs that greatly spoiled the party for him. And yet the prosecutor, far from being offended by the protest, although he changed his style and subject, remained as cool as a cucumber, and as friendly with Leto as ever. Shortly after this incident, Don Claudio called the prosecutor from one of the most remote tables in the billiard room, to ask him to rule in the dispute he was engaged in with his three-card mates regarding a move one of the players had made. With the prosecutor leaving and not returning; the lawyers and doctor who accompanied him leaving immediately; and Leto thinking that the Assistant was feeling somewhat sluggish without the onlookers who entertained him, and that the oil lamps stank more than usual, he began to feel so weak and so disgusted that he allowed himself to be carried to the table in order to finish the game as quickly as possible. “Blimey!” he said to himself as he walked toward the pharmacy, holding his hat because the heat was overwhelming, “isn’t it incredible that a man in the prime of life could have spent, like me, the best part of his free time in that infamous row, hitting balls?… A table or two, now and then, gosh; but every day two or three hours of work in that filthy pool hall… with that smell!… Blimey, if the fun is silly, look at it closely! And that little prosecutor, with his sharp tongue?… I like him, it’s true… and he usually gets the big shots… Come on, he nails the nicknames… But blimey! Maybe he has some things… like tonight, for example… That was beside the point, it wasn’t even decent… They’re respectable people…” and friends of one’s own… and one ends up eating at their table… Put yourself in my place; and if they’re a decent person, let’s see if they wouldn’t do what I did… I’ll be sorry if what I said hurt him; but it was his fault, and I did my duty… just as I would have done if he continued with the joke and I broke something on his head… Damn if I broke it! And be careful, I love him well, what is called good… But there are cases in which one goes above and beyond… like this case… Either one is a good friend or one is not; either one is a decent person, or a scoundrel. Damn, damn, damn!… What things, man!… what strange things these are!… He worked hard at the pharmacy without much need, and he hummed a good deal that night until dinnertime. He dined regularly and talked with his father, at length, about what they had discussed before he left for the Casino. The poor things were as little accustomed to revelry as Peleches had been in the morning, and as little accustomed to recreation as singular as that of the afternoon!… At the usual hour, the pharmacy was closed, and the two retired… The father, after saying his prayers, fell asleep like a saint. The son did not fall asleep so easily: his clothes were too heavy for him, even though they were the bare minimum, and he could not fit in the bed, looking for positions. Finally, like a squib, he fell asleep. What then passed through the torpid regions of his brain, what jumble of incongruous ideas and bizarre images possessed him, is not known for certain; but it is a known fact that late at night, suddenly emerging from his struggle and placing his clasped hands under the back of his neck, he exclaimed to himself, now in a state of perfect lucidity: “Carape!” Is it true that I’m a pretty good watercolor painter, and that I draw very well? Well, I’m about two fingers away from believing it outright. And look, the same painter who was my teacher and who was telling me so every day left Spain without convincing me!… Where did that idea come from in Leto’s mind? What was the one immediately beyond the limit set between the lucid state and the state of torpor?… Leto, determined to find out, pulled at the thread of the string of them all, and from the shadowy depths, one by one, began to draw blurred images that, upon entering the zone of light of his discourse, took on the forms and colors of reality. Thus appeared, in a strange procession: Nieves, with her straw tunic in the gloom of the Casino, asking for the watercolors; her father inviting himself to see the yacht and inviting him to lunch at Peleches; Nieves, wearing a mantilla, at the door of the Collegiate Church; Nieves again, dressed in white at home; the watercolors, the small study, the dining room, the sloop and the Englishman in apotheosis; Cornias, a red carnation, very white teeth, the Flash veering and listing sharply; Nieves smilingly facing what her father considered dangerous, her little mouth half-open, her brave gaze, her brow… what a brow that was! a little furrowed and eagerly inhaling the sea breeze and the delight of the walk… “Careful, that girl is temperate!” thought Leto, beginning to reason as soon as the last figure in the procession had passed. And pretty!… Gosh, she’s pretty!… and modest, and simple for how pretty and important she is… Another woman in her shoes would give herself a shine!… It turns out she’s very fond of seaside walks, and she wants to take them on my sloop… A good opportunity to show her off for what she’s worth!… the only one, if you look closely. On this side, I’m happy with the whim. But I’m making a commitment that binds me; and one isn’t always in the same mood… and then, with this damned temper of mine that can’t adapt to certain profiles… And it’s not because I can’t think of things, no way!… I can think of everything, and today it was clear: I gave her my arm and my hand; but that’s not the point, gosh! but in doing it properly , and not as I do it… with this damned distrust… The same as the carnation, which was a nonsense no matter how much they say it: because if I have a little serenity and the nerve that others have, I don’t I’m shooting, what was there to shoot?… In the sloop, thank goodness, because as soon as I pick up the rod, I’m already drunk and I don’t know a soul; but to get to that point you have to go through others… Come on, on this side, I don’t mind that whim at all: word of honor… And it doesn’t look bad, wow!… much better than she thinks… I mean, it seems to me… Because she has a poise to affirm and a strength of conviction, which are imposing… Then, she doesn’t just talk to the air and just for the sake of it; and she understands about painting. Damn, she does! There is in it a feeling for art, and taste… a lot of taste!… It is true that here, in Villavieja, one is made for so little, for so little and of such average quality, and so seen!… But no, sir, no: that little Sevillian girl, wherever you want to put her, here or in Valladolid… Carape!… No, no, what is the little cousin over there, the original of the photograph that was on the piano… because according to what she herself told me, that portrait is that of her cousin, the son of Doña Lucrecia, dressed in a toga and a mortarboard… you can be satisfied if what is said is true… And it will be, judging by the features. The care she takes with the photograph is too great for a portrait of just any cousin… And the Mexican looks good: they’ll make a great couple… wow!… What strikes me most about Nieves is that firm serenity with which she looks and walks and expresses herself… come on, everything is natural and sincere in that devil of a girl; and then that Andalusian accent, that way of calling things, with that well- pitched voice… Anyway, the Mexican… was born standing up… standing up… Carape, carape… carape!… What… things… these… man!… And he fell asleep again like a log. Not through the work of any little devil, one of those who, in Don Alejandro Bermúdez’s opinion, amuse themselves by spreading gossip and tales from ear to ear, lifting roofs or slipping through the cracks in doors, but by a prosaic and vulgar coincidence, Nieves woke up in her bed at the very moment the son of the apothecary from Villavieja was falling asleep again in his own. Nieves was awakened by a nightmare. She dreamed that her father had finally agreed to Leto putting two planks from the sloop’s deck into the water. To make it easier to do so, Cornias had filled the entire mast with sail, right up to the blue crowbar with the white F. There was no more room for any more canvas there. In this way, the yacht, swelled with wind to the top, sailed over the greenish waters like an arrow, but heeling, heeling, heeling, until she, too, had to grab onto some ropes. The camber had already been lowered, and the first plank was just being lowered, when an unexpected surge stirred the water and caused a jet of water to leap to the bottom of the well, wetting her feet. This illusory impression was what woke her with a start. “But it’s clear,” she said to herself, realizing clearly that what had happened was a dream, “that this can be done… you understand, with a pilot like him… What a delightful walk this afternoon!” And now, once she had the clarity of this thought, she also had a desire to bring to full light the whole string of memories dormant in her mind; and she pulled the thread, and the corresponding procession emerged. Indeed, it seemed as if she were pulling the same thread that Leto had pulled shortly before, seeing how most of the things and events that had just passed through the apothecary’s son’s head began to appear in the parade. This Don Adrián Pérez led the way in the Nieves procession, describing in his singular style the character and interests of his son; then the son, body and soul, hurriedly putting on his jacket next to the Casino’s billiard table, with his disheveled hair, his burning face, and his inexplicable shrinking movements; then Leto, Leto himself, a watercolor painter; then Don Adrián’s own son praising his ship; and Leto throwing away the carnation that was no longer of use to her; and Leto describing the ship to her on the ground; and Leto steering him around the bay… in short, Leto’s same procession, seen from the opposite side, with the apothecary’s son occupying the place in it that Don Alejandro Bermúdez’s daughter had occupied when the procession paraded past Leto’s head; only Nieves’s gaze was usually less curious than Leto’s. A matter of temperament, no doubt. As a person, simply, Nieves had thought Leto “an excellent young man”: kind-hearted, pleasant, and unassuming to the point of being superfluous; as a watercolor painter, quite remarkable; taking her arm to go to the dining room, a country gentleman; talking about his ship, “another man,” and steering him… that was where he ought to be seen! It was rare, extremely rare, that a young man who painted with such mastery as he did would not give it the slightest importance, and even ignore it… Modesty was fine, but taken to such an extreme, it seemed foolish; And his folly didn’t mesh well with the talent that was indispensable for painting what he painted and saying what he said, for example, when he spoke of his friend and the bravery of his ship. Then, as a painter, he was a complete artist, in his way of seeing, feeling, and expressing it. Even his appearance was more gallant and splendid than that of Leto, who hastily dressed in his jacket at the Casino, or threw to the floor the carnation she’d had in her mouth, not daring to put it away, surely not out of contempt—how innocent!—he would even be capable of believing she hadn’t noticed, or who offered her his arm, disheveled and clumsy, in the living room of his house and on the steps of the dock. He was handsome then too, yes , because as handsome and handsome, he always was; but without the ease and manly slenderness that gave him self-forgetfulness and the warmth and strength of his convictions and enthusiasms. That was why he shone the brightest when he steered his yacht. He had called her attention to it several times that afternoon. What beautiful attitudes he assumed in the most anxious moments! Don Adrián rightly said that the sloop was his son’s drunkenness… Since Nieves had known very few men, and those few very superficially, she didn’t dare say whether there were many who were composed of elements as incongruous as Leto’s; but whether they were or not, she couldn’t doubt that Leto was a very strange young man… Of course, speaking about him with her father, Nieves’s father , she hadn’t told him all these observations, lest they seem too much to him and he might call her a fussy … In any case, strange or not strange, handsome or ugly, she didn’t care, Leto had been a great acquisition, because he was a treasure chest of things, precisely the ones she liked most; and it was necessary to preserve him and make the most of him … It was to be believed that with more frequent contact he would acquire greater self-confidence; and in this way, what at that moment seemed to the poor boy a heavy burden, perhaps because of his brevity, would end up turning out to be the opposite… Then, he satisfied… she joyful… everyone happy and entertained … Rufita González… writing to Mexico… Leto out to sea … Nachito in petticoats… she _huerita_ and painting… what ?… with whom?… The species became tangled and confused in his mind; and the previous procession, with new visions strung on the thread among the others, paraded again, but in reverse: from the zone of light, already half-dark, to the darkest depths of the brain. The last phantom passed as the last glimmer of light went out; the half-open eyelids finished closing ; The profile of the pretty head fell upon the pillow , and Nieves fell into a sweet and deep sleep. Chapter 13. The First Weeks. After Nieves had feared her so much, she found it even entertaining to pay the visits she owed between those received from the Villaveja residents in Peleches; because, when you look at the matter closely, it had its original and picturesque side; and she, after all, was something of an artist and very observant. She surprised Rufita González in her petticoats and tights, fleeing down the hallway when she recognized the voice of those knocking, after her mother had opened the door for them. They had to wait for her for a long time in the living room, which was tiny, like the entire house from the entrance on, and old, of course, with quartered doors, enormous locks and latches, and tiny glass panes, where there was any. The living room, which wasn’t exactly dirty, was filled with five chairs and a straw sofa; a console table with its mirror on top, two vases, and Nacho’s portrait, from the same edition as the one Nieves had; a small nightstand in the center with a crocheted doily; six lithographs in mahogany-veneered frames on the walls; and three colorful doormats on the floor. No false ceiling. In Villavieja, such luxury was scarcely known, even in the wealthiest houses: bare woodwork, with a couple or two coats of a yellow earth that was abundant in a hollow in the mountains. The Notaries’ house was much larger and even much older. One entered through a dark doorway, with a chicken coop and all its accessories and consequences. The staircase had only two flights: the first and shorter, of rough stone worn by use; the second, which led to the floor, of oak planks, black and twisted from sheer age. The living room was wide and long, but had a low ceiling, and it was plastered yellow. It had two bedrooms and a study; the doors were also solid and had heavy ironwork; and since meetings were held there, there were more chairs than in Rufita González’s house, and some were even made of wool upholstery; the rugs were felt; There were as many as four corner cabinets filled with trinkets from Periquet’s bazaar, and on the console table, in addition to the classic vases with lanterns and a small bronze clock that hadn’t worked for years, there were more Valencian trinkets and many snails and shells from the beach. Beneath the console table, a guitar, to whose sounds, plucked by the fingernails of the Chief Clerk or two “boys” who alternated with her on nights out, people danced; plenty of colorful ribbon and molded strips of yellow brass on the bedroom curtains; the stories, in illuminated lithographs, of Moses and Richard in Palestine, with frames covered in gold paper; the indispensable hooked rugs on the nightstands in the study and the living room; and even three mahogany spittoons, with sawdust on white paper, distributed throughout both rooms. Quite a bit of cleanliness everywhere in sight, and a lot of noise inside, like shrapnel from a shed and falsetto chanting above, and downstairs the incessant cackling of the cattle herd. The home of Don Eusebio Codillo: in the Plaza Mayor, with the portrait of the reigning monarch (because it was him, Codillo), from the town hall at the end of the room, large, old and without a ceiling too, with many chairs, two sofas, two consoles, four flower vases, six small rugs, almost, almost real, and many Valencian effigies everywhere; a worn-out piano, more like a harpsichord, judging by its humble and old-fashioned label; garlands and bouquets of fake flowers on walls, tables, and nightstands… and lots of cats, live and active, of all sizes and hairs, coming and going step by step, tails held high and very straight, some mouse-like, others ingratiating, and all very sycophantic and nosy. And so in this order, all the families of the same stripe were housed: cat, dog, parrot, nightstand, or flap, more or less. In a higher hierarchy, the Vélez family in their tall, blackened mansion, full of moldy coats of arms and rusty balconies, wedged between and bursting between two others that, because they were so humble and sprawling, seemed to be holding it up out of charity; the doorway, enormous, dark, gloomy, and with an adobe floor; the staircase, wide, with trembling legs and humped steps; then the hall, as large and as gloomy as the portal, with a large wooden bench with a coat of arms carved on the back, leaning against the wall under a tapestry already faded and in tatters; then the dais, about four halls across in size, with its wainscoting of wide, curved, and ancient chestnut planks; its exposed beamed ceiling, of the same wood and the same color as the floor; its low, thick openings to the facade, like dungeon skylights; its high-tufted armchairs, riddled with moths; its untied cornucopias; its threadbare carpets; its family portraits painted on canvas, and its copper Ecce Homo, blurred and eaten away by the scabs of time; its limp, faded damasks; its two consoles with little columns with gilt bases and capitals, supporting the everlasting malachite and bronze candelabras; and finally, its asthmatic pendulum, a carillon that no longer worked; and the dais, the vestibule, the staircase, and everything the eyes of the lay visitor could see, all dimly lit, clean, shining, and silent, motionless, cold, and with the steam of the crypts, as if there were no home there, no one lived in. Unlike the other house, the citadel of Villavieja’s other dynasty: the Carreños mansion, the least old of all those in the town, with its bit of color on the facade, four-paned stained-glass windows, a small garden in the back, firm, level floors, and soffit ceilings; the chimney almost always smoking; a lot of panning noise and a lot of kitchen stench; a lot of noise everywhere, and not much cleanliness for everything; the furniture almost piled up in the living room; the crude, garish colors; many cages with loud birds and a large, dirty feeding trough, like the blackbird and the malvis among others; a dovecote in the attic and a mastiff loose in the doorway; In short, a dynasty without lineage, plebeian, elevated by the power of money and intrigue in not so distant times. Some of the families visited, those who had gone up to Peleches to wholeheartedly offer their respects to the lords, entertained them during the visit with sweet wines, biscuits, and doughnuts, as was the custom there; and if the Notaries and other such people didn’t follow suit on the same occasion, it was because the same entertainment hadn’t been accorded them in Peleches. Etiquette among equals. Of course, the Notaries also raised hell that day. Halfway through the visit, the eldest of the three, who, as you may recall, was somewhat irritated by having seen Leto, so unsociable with her, go on a tangent with Nieves, and also knew about the promenade and a host of other things, true or imagined, and was naturally so vehement, seizing the occasion by the hair—bam! There goes a tirade about the lack of education of “certain villagers who held the local saints in low regard, and then went out of their way to worship the first long-legged man brought to them from Mecca.” The other scribes, knowing where this was headed, tried to divert their aim with their own little jokes; but the eldest scribe was never in the mood for jokes from her sisters, and on this occasion even less so. So she fired her arrow of protest; the others responded with their respective stabs; the mother began to laugh senselessly ; Nieves became frightened; she looked at her father, who understood immediately; they said their goodbyes as prudently as possible, and without knowing, fortunately, what it was about, they left the visit, hearing from the doorway—despite the uproar of the beating of wings and cackling of the flock as it dispersed in fear—the one that remained armed above among the four women. Rufita González also threw her little chickpeas out of the pot, launching into the subject of her “first cousin” by showing the people of Peleches the office that had been prepared for him “in that poverty,” in case he would be so kind as to accept him when he came, with the affection with which it was to be offered to him. From here she jumped to public rumors, to the jokes that friends and acquaintances gave her, and to how mistaken both of them were in their supposition. The shot was long and ended like this: “What I tell you: that to Peleches’s relatives, if anything. There is beauty and elegance there and wheat by the long way, ha, ha, ha!… to tempt the greed and good taste of a young man as distinguished and handsome as my dear first cousin… Ha, ha, ha, haaa!… That song, so repetitive and vulgar, made Nieves blush and was enough to tickle her father. “Have you noticed what that girl’s theme is?” she said to him as soon as they both stepped onto the street. “Why does she have him?” “Because she’s a tarasca,” Bermúdez responded, “who fancies herself a boyfriend and wants him to be hanged. ” “And what she assumes about him… and about me, where does it come from and why does she say it? ” “These things are always assumed by the public between cousins ​​like yourselves, or they take them for granted and spout them off to those interested, with different motives, imprudent tomboys like Rufita González. During these tasks, the Peleches family, before going up to the house, would take a break in the pharmacy and exchange a few words with the apothecaries about the people and things they had just seen and experienced. “Show me more watercolors,” Nieves would perhaps say to Leto, “or more drawings. ” And Leto obliged her very willingly; and on the occasion of the drawings or paintings, another one-on-one discussion took place between the Sevillian girl and the young pharmacist, a paragraph that the latter loved. “You have to teach me,” she told him on one of these occasions, “how to paint these tree stains. All I can do is make plasters, which could be rocks, groves, or hail clouds… Come up this afternoon, if you don’t have much to do.” And Leto came up that afternoon. Another day he said to her in the pharmacy: “I’ve ruined what you left started so I could continue.” Come up this afternoon to amend it, if it can be amended. And Leto came up as well. With these and other visits, the visits ended, and the lords of Peleches proclaimed the independence of the manor, with all its inhabitants, customs, and good manners. To conclude the ceremony, the father said to his daughter: “We have fulfilled our duty, not only as honorable men, but as heroes. Now, my daughter, a good heart for everyone and a good face wherever we meet them; but nothing more, and as if there were no inhabitants in Villavieja. If they bark, let them bark; if they bite, let them bite. Long live freedom with order!” as they shouted on one occasion. “Now let’s live at our most luxurious pleasure, baskets! That’s why we came here. ” From that solemn agreement, the Bermúdez family’s life entered into the orderly terms of the plans brought from Seville in embryo. Thus put to the test in Peleches, Don Claudio Fuertes drew up the general lines of the extensive program, and the apothecary’s son, who was called to that respectable council as an indispensable element of action and intelligence, completed the work, accommodating it in every way, for every reason, to the desires and tastes of Nieves. The days were long, the weather was at his leisure, and Nieves was in her prime, rising early and going to bed late. There was, then, abundant material to cut, and her good humor, health, and resources provided for everything: for the field and for the sea; for things outside and for things inside; for an active life in the open air, and for art and family life in the shade of the old walls of Peleches… With his tartan and his hired horses, Patafullera, a lame innkeeper from the town who lived from these and other more or less honorable industries, made a great profit that July. Don Adrian was very happy to participate in these expeditions in a tartane, sometimes along the royal road and most of them across the country, upriver, under the pretext of a fair in Rudaces, or a market in Soletos, or a pilgrimage in Campillos. But the excursions Nieves preferred were those she made on foot with her father, Leto, and Don Claudio, early in the morning or at nightfall, climbing from crag to crag, from height to height, to admire new panoramas or discover wider horizons; or descending into the deep , shady ravines to gather velvety moss and the finest ferns that were lying there on the ground, and there was no way for the one from his native land to produce them, even though it was “María Santísima.” Don Alejandro also liked these expeditions very much, but he couldn’t always manage them; and on such occasions Nieves went alone with her friends, who never tired and were very trustworthy. Bermúdez didn’t mind swallowing in front of Don Claudio Fuertes all the boasting he had said on one occasion, in exchange for seeing his daughter satisfied. These recreations were occasionally interspersed with strolls and fishing on the yacht; in which, needless to say, the one from the plains of Astorga didn’t take part, not even remotely; and even Bermúdez himself took part very reluctantly; so much so that one day he declared to Nieves that he couldn’t bear it any longer. “I don’t exactly get seasick,” he said, “and I even _think_ that fishing is a fun thing to do, and that there’s no danger whatsoever on the sloop in the bay ; but I don’t feel at home there, nor… well, not even with all the tranquility that is necessary to make it a pleasure… ” “Oh, Papa!” exclaimed Nieves with the deepest sorrow. “And I like it so much! ” “Well, my child, enjoy your meal,” replied Don Alejandro. “My taste doesn’t interfere with yours. ” “What do you mean? ” “No, I’m staying, and you’re going… ” “But will that be all right, Papa? ” “And why shouldn’t it be, you sloops? Leto and Cornias are trustworthy in every way. Don’t you think? ” “I do… But it could be a problem… ” “Well, man, it would be nice if we had come to Peleches for that! Bah, bah, bah!” And finally, aren’t you going by land, without any collision, with Leto and Don Claudio? Well, you’re going on board with Leto and Cornias; and on foot. The calculation didn’t go wrong like that; and sticking to it, Nieves went on the sloop more than once without her father accompanying her. This kind of life lasted two full weeks; and at the end of that time, the daughter and father realized that if they hadn’t come from Seville for any other purpose than amusement, Don Claudio Fuertes and the apothecary’s son were in a very different situation. If not the former, the latter would certainly have obligations neglected; and there was no need to be selfish in pleasures. Friends could always be counted on; but not for everything and at all hours to the point of mortifying them. In light of these reflections, country and sea excursions were suspended for a few days . The drawing and painting sessions the two young men used to hold, developing life sketches taken by Nieves under Leto’s direction on their excursions by sea and land, also ceased. Only the evening social gathering remained , which the old apothecary also attended. Speaking of these social gatherings, in one of them, Leto was leaning against the balcony of the parlor while Nieves played a Schubert melody inside . He became distracted by the impression that good music, particularly music he knew, always made on him, and ended up following the melody in a low voice. Oyole Nieves insisted that her voice was excellent; and she persisted so much, and with such skill she composed herself, and with such effort did her father and Don Claudio Fuertes help her in her desire , that Leto sang the melody in the parlor, while she accompanied him on the piano. This fact is pointed out as one of the most visible proofs that the Peleches family were not entirely correct in supposing that Leto was mortified by the life they had forced him into. He would have thrown himself off the balcony two weeks earlier, rather than sing in front of a genuine soul what he had just sung in the presence of such respectable people. How tame he would be and how easy the yoke seemed to him! Even the Peleches family, badly accustomed to the constant company of friends, found themselves disoriented without her. They replaced the long excursions with _rational_ walks; and even for these, because his daughter wanted to give them very early in the morning, the father found himself lazy. Catana was charged with accompanying “the girl” at those hours; but the woman from Ronda, despite being a very poor walker, grumbled more than she walked beside Nieves; and Nieves, preferring to go alone than to be in such bad company, was reduced to taking turns around the house and the Glorieta… until little by little, today for this weed, tomorrow for that flower, another day for some detail over there, she began to lengthen the radius of her walks. And as her father told her then: “Either you are in the countryside or you are not; there is or there is not absolute freedom in it; and finally, there are no dogs or cattle or anything to fear around here, because it is not a road leading anywhere in the world.” And so Nieves learned to walk alone in those heights, and to extend her walks, so carefree and content, as far as the pine forest on one side, and as far as the Miradorio and even as far as the dock on the other, with her parasol on her shoulder and her book or drawing supplies in her hand, during the early hours of the morning. Needless to say, the physiological influence of these new habits on Leto’s character was profound. The apothecary ‘s son had not yet become a contented socialite and a diligent and affectionate friend of Mr. and Mrs. Bermúdez, walking with them along the well-trodden paths he was given to follow; but this alone, which by no means seems so insignificant, in a man like him revealed profound internal changes. And you only had to look at him to be convinced of it: he was already a different man; he dressed more carefully than before; his gaze was more steady; he walked better; He spoke less, but more to the point… in short, he was no longer the dazed young man abandoned to his oddities, but the discreet young man convinced of _something_, with his bit of character and his stamp of legitimate personality. All this undoubtedly improved and beautified him, so that the old apothecary never tired of looking at him or ceased to be surprised. “Truly, Leto,” he told him on one occasion, “I had it predicted… because, although I haven’t seen much, the years, damn it! They are great teachers and teach you everything… that’s it. I knew well that whoever has it is the one who must give it, damn it! and no one else, yes, sir… You insisted that there was nothing within you; I insisted that there was… as a spark is in a stone… exactly, that’s it, like a spark in a stone: what was missing was the steel link, the link, damn it!” that would strike… Well, the link appeared… the strike was struck… yes, sir, on the stone… that’s right… and the spark flew… Because there was one, damn it! Because the stone was made of sparks… and I got my way with my determination… The life you led here wasn’t really bad, because you’re good by nature; but it wasn’t enviable either, that ‘s right, nor the most appropriate for a lad of your calibre to make it bear fruit in what it’s worth… Those gentlemen came… they honoured us with their company… they were, luckily, the link… the stone struck it… and the spark flew, Leto… the one you had back there… that’s right. You’re another now; you ‘re where I wanted and hoped to see you… not so soon, it’s true, and this is what surprises and amazes me; but, at last, you are… you are, that’s right; and since you are, try not to lose what you’ve acquired; guard it, damn it! like a treasure that is rightfully yours, discovered on your own land… Tomorrow or the next, those gentlemen will leave by where they came from, and it would be a sad grace, Leto, if as soon as the prop were removed our house were to collapse… No, sir, hell! No, sir. The good habits you have acquired and are acquiring, you must always preserve… that’s it; because those habits, as you enter into life, will win you esteem and respect. For that very reason they represent a very great asset, hell! Who knows, my son, who knows how things will turn out in the world from now on, at the rate we are going today, and from where the winds will blow? And in these doubts, well founded, Leto, well founded… that’s it… to have a well-defined course, a very firm will and a judgment worthy of God, is to be anchored in the harbor in in the midst of a storm… Live, live grateful to those gentlemen who favor us so much; cultivate their company and serve them without tiring or bothering them so long as… damn it!… that’s it; take advantage of their lessons, and go, go prepare the house properly for when it finds itself without supports. That’s it… Leto did not smile on that occasion as he had on other identical ones listening to his father’s special homilies, perhaps because he was distracted by other meditations, or perhaps because he abounded in the same ideas as the preacher… The best thing for everyone was that, Don Adrián’s son overflowing with the desires with which he was filled, and Don Claudio’s being well known as well, the Bermúdezes put aside their scruples, and the adventurous and entertaining life of the first weeks was reestablished in Peleches. Chapter 14. Chronicle of a Day. It was the end of July, by all accounts, and they had agreed to eat in the pine grove, in a very shady spot, carpeted with thick, fragrant grass , with a fresh, abundant spring, and, a very short distance away , some very picturesque features of rocks, weeds, and old trunks that Nieves had never seen before and that Leto had praised greatly. Leto had several notes about them in his wallet, and it was agreed that Nieves could take others to his liking. With that as a pretext, the departure was arranged; and very early the four expeditionaries left Peleches : Don Alejandro and his steward, each armed with shotguns to shoot at the doves that flew into their barrels, and Nieves and Leto with their drawing supplies. Nieves, as almost always when he went to the country or to the sea, wore his hair tied back in a single braid that fell over his back, with a large bow at the bottom; a wide-brimmed straw hat with a ribbon the color of the ribbon in his hair; A plain, light- colored dress, silk gloves, sturdy-soled boots, and a long-stemmed parasol. Leto, who didn’t have much to choose from, was wearing a freshly ironed, ashen drill suit; and with this and white calfskin boots, a light-colored bowler hat, and a polka-dotted tie under a sailor collar, he looked quite good next to the slender Sevillian. He carried Nieves’s satchel in one hand, and in the other the disassembled pair of scissors, which also belonged to Nieves. He didn’t need those utensils for his fieldwork. He made his seat with whatever he could find, a stone, a log… or the holy ground, in the worst case. As the two of them walked far ahead of the others and halfway up the slope to the pine grove, Nieves suddenly stopped, turned quickly back, and cast her serene, deep gaze over everything visible from there, even the palace of Peleches, which stood out at the very top, and asked bluntly of her companion, who had also stopped and was looking at everything she was looking at, and moreover, and very particularly, at her own particular way of looking: “What is the first thing you feel when you go out into the countryside, on a day like today, splendid with light, with no heat to smother you, no wind to bother you, no noise of people to distract you, and when everything you see, the ground, the tree, the bush, the stream, even the bare rock, all resembles one and the same thing… like thyme and marjoram, or something like that?” Leto felt many things on such occasions; And since there were so many and he didn’t dare mention just one, and suddenly, for fear of it sounding silly, he replied to Nieves, after thinking it over for a moment: “And you who ask me that question, what do you feel, if I may know? ” “I believe it is possible to know!” responded Nieves, turning toward the pine grove and continuing the interrupted ascent. “Look here: the first thing I feel is a little envy of good painters, poets, and musicians; because I am overcome with such a strong desire to paint, to describe, and even to put into music what I see and hear! For that, I would like to be the best painter, the best poet, and the best musician in the world. Does what I envy seem like a lot to you?” Leto laughed; and since he found Nieves’s wishes very excusable, he told her so, adding that he didn’t give a damn about the same thing. A little later, the Sevillian spoke again, to say to Leto, also bluntly, but without pausing: “It’s a pity that you’re not as fond of painting in oils as you are of gouache. ” “I’ve told you on another occasion,” Leto responded, “that this consists in my lack of patience: any time, however short, from the moment I conceive something until I execute it seems like an eternity to me. I’m not entertained, as others are, by the process of purely mechanical work: that’s why I prefer the pencil to watercolor itself: although without the heightening of color, it gives me, before the latter, the expression of thought or the image of nature. ” “That’s strange.” “Yes, ma’am.” and for that very reason I beg you to take this as a confession of an ugly sin, and not as a boast of a way of seeing worthy of imitation… Now,” he added, changing his tone and direction, “to get where we’re going first, let’s take this little path on the right… It’s also a little strange, isn’t it? That on your own estate I have to serve as your guide… because Señor Don Alejandro does nothing but follow our steps… you see?… and Don Claudio Fuertes the same… If only you had everything as well-trodden under your feet as I have!… Another moment of walking in silence, and another blunt question from Nieves: “Do you know Rufita González? ” “Who doesn’t know her in Villavieja?” Leto answered. “What a bachelorette, eh?” Leto would have gladly confirmed this opinion with an example that came to the tip of his tongue; But considering that he could mortify Nieves with it, if certain rumors and other certain signs were not false, he limited himself to saying, with a very admiring accent: “A very young lady!… “Whenever she speaks to me,” added Nieves, “she wants to give me to understand that our cousin Nacho wishes to marry her. ” “Wow!” exclaimed Leto to himself, “well, that was my case, and now it turns out that it matters to her less than it does to me.” And aloud he said, “That is precisely what qualifies her most. ” “And why shouldn’t what she claims be true?” asked Nieves, turning a little toward him and sending the words to him under the fires of a firm and serene gaze. “Because it can’t be,” responded Leto with his corresponding serenity; “because there is no reason for it to be so; and, on the other hand, there is one of great weight for it to turn out to be a lie.” Nieves did not show the slightest desire to know that reason, and that was the end of the matter. A little further on, he asked Leto, “And do you know the Notaries?” This question left Leto quite flustered and his cheeks a little flushed: the prosecutor had teased him so much about the Senior Notary! But he quickly recovered and answered Nieves, “Other bachelors of the same kind.” The dissembling didn’t work; for Nieves, although she wasn’t looking directly at him, caught the flash in his face and the jolt that had preceded it. “I wasn’t saying that,” he replied, confidently, in case he had misspoken with the question. A little further on, and quite deep into the pine forest, followed at a short distance by the two elderly gentlemen, who were distractedly looking here and there in case a turtledove was stirring near the path, “Will we get to that place soon?” “Below ten minutes,” Leto replied. We are almost at the small esplanade where we are to eat; a little more than twenty yards to the right is what we are looking for. “Of course, you will bring the drawings of it, which I asked you to make last night. ” “As I promised,” Leto replied, pointing to one of the pockets of his jacket.
“Do you want to show them to me?” Nieves asked him. “Right now?” “Right now,” the Sevillian woman replied with a look that brooked no reply. Leto transferred the scissors to his left hand after having placed Nieves’s wallet, or rather, briefcase, under the same arm, and He took his notebook out of his right pocket… But when he handed it to Nieves, he became even more flustered than the other time, and turned not red like before, but pale… Damn! He had done well! What a wicked memory and wicked haste he had! He had nothing else on his mind all night, and finally he forgot to do it when he put the album in his pocket, in a hurry; because he was leaving without it… Damn!… And there was no way out. Thinking like this, he handed the album to Nieves, with the forced self-denial with which a criminal surrenders to the Civil Guard. “Do me the favor of opening it,” he said, “because I only have one free hand… This is the top cover… Like this… I ‘ll tell you which pages those drawings are on. ” “The thing is, I plan to see them all,” Nieves warned him, opening the album the way Leto wanted. And it’s clear that, as soon as the clasps were loosened, the album opened by itself to the pages between which lay the contraband Leto had planned to conceal by turning the pages with his free hand. The poor lad’s pallor turned to a very deep crimson. Nieves then looked at him with a very spicy smile. “Forgive me,” she said at the same time, “if this has any special value… I didn’t know it. ” “What could it have!” exclaimed Leto, without knowing what he was saying. “That’s a carnation… ” “I can see it now,” interrupted Nieves, as if unaware of the other’s confusion; “and red… and double. ” “Yes, ma’am: double and red,” repeated Leto. “A double red carnation that I had in my mouth once while I was drawing… Are you there? Well, while I was like that, the stem broke and I dropped it on the floor; And then I… mechanically, I picked it up… and, mechanically, I put it away where you see it; and there it has remained until today… “Very well done, Leto,” said Nieves, looking at him again with the same malicious little smile. “That’s what should always be done with carnations that fall from your mouth… and not what was done with one I remember… It was also red, and double, if my memory serves me right… and the poor thing remained on the ground… It’s true that it wasn’t worth the trouble of being kept, because the mouth from which it had fallen was mine. Leto, upon feeling this stab, shuddered from head to toe and turned twenty-five colors; and Nieves, seeing him like that, burst out laughing with all his heart. “Whether the carnation was yours or someone else’s,” he said immediately, “finding you here has been a real bad time for you. I’m so sorry! Let’s turn the page, if you don’t mind, and look at the drawings.” What a joke! Leto was no longer well-versed in anything except the matter of the carnation that had fallen out of her mouth! From the signs, not only had Nieves noticed the incident that had worried him so much, but it had seemed very wrong to him, of course: as it should have; as if it had been the biggest blunder a man could commit accompanying a young lady. Chance had given him an opportunity to prove that the mistake had been repaired as much as possible… Well, damn it! Take advantage of this opportunity without losing a moment… This misgiving, that other one, whether the clarification could be taken this way or that, from this side or that side… Let it be taken, damn it! that it was taken, even if it was by the most absurd extreme: anything but being a horse in the opinion of a woman like that… Be careful how spicy the allusion he had made was!… Inflamed with the fire of all these reflections that passed through his mind in an instant, he responded with great energy to what the Sevillian woman had said: “There is no drawing that is worth it, Nieves, as long as the point of the carnation that fell out of your mouth is not left out … Let’s talk about that for a moment. ” Nieves was a little surprised by Leto’s outburst, and asked her very seriously: “But do you know what carnation I was referring to… jokingly? ” “Yes, ma’am,” Leto responded, impassive and determined to do everything: “the one that is It fell on you at the Miradorio, and I picked it up from the ground… to throw it back at you; in a word… at that very carnation you’re looking at. Then it was Nieves who flinched, and not a little; but she recovered instantly, and said to Leto in the same joking tone as before and closing the album:
“But, man, how can that be, if the carnation stayed there and we continued walking?” “That’s true,” responded Leto without losing a spark of his ardor, ” but I went back for it as soon as I said goodbye to you at the pharmacy, after our walk. ” Nieves didn’t say a word, nor did she show any sign by which the impression made on her by the news could be noticed: with the album closed, but unfastened, in her left hand, she continued walking and looking serenely ahead. Leto, after a brief pause, continued: “I’m not a man of gallant profiles; but in my own way, I know how to distinguish colors.” And knowing this, as soon as I threw the carnation, I knew I shouldn’t have thrown it that way… or any other way, in case you had noticed… and even if you hadn’t, it was always a very bad thing to do… The fact is, I was preoccupied with it all afternoon… because, believe me, Nieves: a man, however careless and modest he may be, is willing to be seen as a bandit rather than as a fool in front of a woman; and with this preoccupation, as soon as I could, I went back for the carnation: I found it, and I put it back where you found it now, with no other aim than to repair my mistake as much as possible and always have proof of it with me. I never dreamed that you would ever see it; but this morning, as I hurriedly grabbed the album, I forgot to remove the contraband from it, as I had planned to do since last night; and I swear to you, on the faith of an honest man, that I didn’t realize I forgot until I went to give you the book a moment ago. I was a little hurt by the allusion to my inconvenience, and especially by finding out that you had noticed it; and between being left with the stigma attached to me and the risk of you laughing at me again for telling you the truth, I opted for this, which is less disgraceful than the other… in my opinion. “And why would I laugh?” Nieves observed, using the end of her closed parasol to brush aside some pebbles that weren’t in anyone’s way from the ground. “From what you might find of… innocence in the case, it’s just a guess,” Leto responded with complete sincerity; and then he added, ” Anyway, there’s the carnation.” If you regret or think it’s wrong for me to have picked it up, just throw it away again as soon as you order me to… “And why should I regret such a thing, or why should I give you such an order?” exclaimed the little girl from Seville, opening the album again to where the carnation was. “Poor thing!” she added, looking at it. ” Throwing it to the ground again after having lived so many days in this palace of art!… Besides, you’ve won it over in a fair way… So leave it where it is, if it doesn’t get in your way, and let’s go see the drawings…” Leto, congratulating himself on getting out of the predicament he had found himself in so easily, leaned closer to Nieves; she handed him the crushed and withered carnation so that it wouldn’t fall out of the album while they were leafing through it. Leafing through it and walking, they arrived at the desired spot; and upon reaching it, after Nieves had given him much praise, she said to Leto: “I don’t want to draw.” “No way?” Leto exclaimed, astonished. “And why?” “Because after seeing what I’ve seen in your album, my pencil would fall from my hand. Draw something new here by yourself, but in my notebook… I mean, if I don’t overdo it…” There was no way to convince her to draw, although Leto’s excitement was joined by that of her father, who had already arrived with his friend, tired of sniffing around for turtledoves in vain. “And what are you going to do for fun?” Don Alejandro finally asked her. “For now, pick little flowers and ferns, which abound among these shady rocks. You’ll see what pretty garlands and bouquets I’ll make!” ” Come on, your obsession. Sometimes you come home looking like a wreck.” Current. You already have your bouquet of ferns and chamomile across your chest, like the band of a large cross, and your little bunch in your hair, and your nosegay in your hand. And then? “Afterward, and also before, from time to time, I’ll see what Leto is drawing, and how you hunt… until the meal arrives, which will surely arrive long before I can begin to get bored. ” And so it happened in the end, fulfilling Nieves’s prophecies, and another one, made the day before by Don Claudio Fuertes regarding meals in the countryside, in the pastoral style. These meals on holy ground, with the music of birds and wild aromas, were, in the commander’s opinion, most beautiful… painted on paper; but enjoyed in person, they were a torment. Everyone agreed with the previous speaker, while they searched for unbearable positions to shovel the food in lukewarm sauce, or the bread with horseflies, or the cold cuts with worms. But you had to get used to everything to know everything. Ultimately, you were either in the countryside or you weren’t. So before two in the afternoon, the Peleches family was savoring with delight the cool shade of the noble walls; and Commander Fuertes and the apothecary’s son were going down the Costanilla in search of their respective burrows. Half an hour later, Nieves was in the northeast parlor, contemplating and admiring the drawings Leto had made in the pine forest, and confusing in her mind with this admiration for her friend’s talent, the meticulous analysis of the other case, the strange case of the carnation, which she had discovered by chance. While she was mulling over these thoughts, her father entered very diligently, with a letter in his hand, saying: “Hey, hey, Nieves: some good news. ” Nieves dropped what she was doing and thinking and turned to her father, asking him what the news was. “I just received this letter in the mail today from your Aunt Lucrecia. According to what the poor woman tells me, who continues to gain weight inconsolably , Nachito had left the day before. He’s leaving his visit to the United States for the return trip and is coming via England from Veracruz. Taking into account his planned stays in London and Paris, he figures he could be in Villavieja, I mean in Peleches, by the end of next month, August… Nothing, just a bunch of crap: tomorrow, so to speak… Take the letter: you can find out about it if you want… ” “Why?” said Nieves, calm and unperturbed. –“Why!” “I’ll give you another one!” “Why does anyone find out about the letters they read? ” “Well, I’m already in on it, Papa. ” “Yes, yes; but it seemed to me that, in such cases, our curiosity should be a little more aroused than it is… That’s it… I don’t know what the hell happens to me with you whenever this point comes up… I’m going to finish, anyway… Anyway, I don’t like the…” Nieves, who was staring at him, seeing him in such a hurry, burst out laughing and put her hands on his shoulders. “Do you want me to dance for the news?” she asked him. “Tell me yes, and I’ll dance. ” “Nonsense!” Bermúdez responded, pretending to be more upset than he was. “I don’t want extremes, Nieves: I want nothing but the average.” I figured the news would make you happy, so I came running to tell it to you. “And it makes me happy, Papa, and I’m very grateful; it’s just that I’m like that, come on, not very showy when it comes to expressing what I feel. It’s not my fault, what do you want? ” “I know, dear, I know!… But I figured that, in light of this news, you’d at least admit my reason for worrying so often about a matter that makes you laugh: the matter of his office, which remains half-finished to this day. ” “Below is the one Rufita sends him, all dressed up. ” “The joke again! Well, look, Nieves: she’s teasing me for being a joke, and for Rufita; you know I’ve got that devilish bitch right here, right behind my head, rude and without a shred of manners. ” “Is it possible you take it seriously? Bah!” It makes me a little uncomfortable when I hear her talking nonsense… and that’s because of what she’s doing; but as soon as I lose sight of her, I swear she makes me laugh… Laugh too… But oh, my God! If Nacho has left Mexico, he can no longer receive there the letter I was thinking of writing to him. Naturally. I owed him that letter from Seville; but since in Peleches time is wasted by the post… What a head of mine! Anyway, there’s no remedy now: I’ll answer him here verbally; and who knows if that way we’ll both win? Isn’t that true, Papa? Ah, you rascal, you rascal! said Bermúdez, patting him on the face with Doña Lucrecia’s letter. You have more backroom when it suits you! And he left so satisfied. Nieves, with affectionate eyes, but which seemed somewhat compassionate, watched him leave; and immediately sat down at the piano and began to prelude a Schubert melody, which she knew by heart… and so did Leto. At the social gathering that same day, the apothecary’s son was not as absorbed in his own thoughts as usual: he was frequently distracted and seemed to have something tingling in his body and mind. When he entered with his father, Don Alejandro and his friend the Commander were discussing some political news that the former had just read in the newspapers, and Nieves, sitting on the balcony, was dozing to the lullaby of the distant breakers of the sea… Leto, who clearly tended to be mischievous in his attempt to entertain the women, and even more so that evening, was going back and forth from the living room to the balcony and from the balcony to the living room, catching a few words here and directing two more there to Nieves, who was very quiet. On one of his trips to the balcony, after having mechanically contemplated the portrait of Nachito in the living room, he said to Nieves, just to give her a piece of his mind: “And that little cousin is really handsome.” He had told Nieves this on more than ten occasions, and on just as many occasions she had answered him the same as she had then: “He’s not bad like that. ” “He’ll come back later,” Leto added for the first time. “You ask Rufita González,” Nieves replied very seriously, ” she’ll know exactly… Damn, Rufita González was really bothering her on that point!” But he didn’t give in to the suspicion and said simply: “And why should Rufita know better than you?” “Because she already has the study prepared… and even the sweets for the wedding. All we know here, from a letter received today, is that he’ll come at the end of August. ” “How soon!” Leto exclaimed, undoubtedly letting himself be carried away by his kind nature. And there was no more talk of Nacho. More comings and goings from Leto. During one of them, that is, one of his trips to the balcony, Nieves asked him, as bluntly as usual: “Why did you blush in the pine forest when I asked you if you knew the Escribanas?” Leto was heartily glad that the night was as dark as it was, because that way the sincerity of his answer wouldn’t be undermined by the hot flush the strangeness of the question had caused him. “I got as you say,” he answered simply, “because, for some time now, that soap opera of a prosecutor has been trying to tease me about the eldest of the three, without any damned reason; and you know what I am like in certain tight spots. ” “Since your hot flush coincided,” Nieves replied, fanning herself a lot, “with the discovery of the carnation in the album…” Leto burst out laughing; and immediately said to Nieves: “Thank you for the favor you were doing me. ” “Well,” replied the Sevillian, “it would be a pleasure like any other: to me they are all respectable. But, anyway, it’s better that the symptoms were lying; because truly… that pleasure was nothing to envy… And on to something else: not tomorrow, because I’ll be busy at home; but the day after tomorrow, could we take another little ride on the yacht?” “You know that I am entirely at your service. ” “How I like that, Leto!… More every day… But, well, when are we going to make a little getaway? ” “Well, we’ll do it one day when the sea is suitable and don’t go Alejandro, who after getting dizzy, is no longer in the mood for you. He lingered on that and talked for a while about the morning’s country game and Leto’s drawings; until the get-together was over, those from home going to dinner and those from outside going out into the street. Chapter 15. Letters sing. “My dearest Virtues: How you must have put me, all by yourself! What things you must have thought of me! When I said goodbye to you in Seville, I made many promises; and afterward, if I’ve seen you, I don’t remember. I’m not telling you this because it’s true, but because I imagine you’ll say it when you remember me . Nor is that true, not even about your race… That is to say, it ‘s true that I promised to write to you often, and it’s true that I haven’t done so until today; but it’s not true that I’ve forgotten you, nor could it be even if I had wanted to and you had insisted on it as well. I remember you every day and at all hours: the thing is, with the best intentions of writing to you “tomorrow,” every time I turn off the light to go to sleep, the devil comes with one of his tricks as soon as I wake up… and until the next. Because you might think that in a solitude like that of Peleches, even as a means of distraction I should be very diligent in writing to you, and that when I don’t do so even to entertain the boredom that must be consuming me, it’s a sign that I don’t even remember the Virgin of your name. Well, there lies, Virtues of my soul, your greatest mistake: in supposing that I am bored in this solitude, not a little, not much, not even for a single instant. Far from being bored, I have so many distractions that I don’t have enough time for anything, even to write to you; I only have enough time to acknowledge my sin and feel its bites on my conscience. That, indeed, is the pure truth! “Today, not because it’s raining and we can’t go out, but because I’ve already made up my mind, I’m going to dedicate the whole morning to you, and even the afternoon, if necessary, to writing you a letter that’s worth all the ones I owe you, and a little more for any future mistakes; because you know we’re sinners and fall at every step, no matter how careful we are when we walk. “Well, you see, Virtudes, what’s going on: I knew what Peleches was from what I’d heard from Papa: a very high and open place, and on the flattest part of it, our house, the only house in all of Peleches, with a grand view of the sea and beautiful fields on the other sides: which I like above all else in the world, as you well know; but, my dear friend, what a difference between what’s painted and what’s real!” I was amazed to see with my own eyes the incomparable panorama that Papa showed me from the balconies of this house the day after I arrived, at night and as dark as a wolf’s mouth; so that everything I saw that morning was new to me. What a sea! What mountains! What a plain! What a port! I never tired of contemplating it, nor do I tire today, nor would I ever tire, even if I spent my life contemplating it. “Here, my hope had not deceived me: to paint, to wander on sea and land, to feel, to dream… for everything and much more, I gave what I saw before me. But, my friend, who can tell you that, perhaps in the midst of my enthusiasm, there comes the label of the people of Villavieja… Have I told you anything about Villavieja?… Wait until I review what I wrote… No… Well, Villavieja is the town, the village that corresponds to the site of Peleches: Peleches at the top, and Villavieja at the bottom, but almost connected by a very bad street and a mediocre promenade. Villavieja is a black and old settlement, dirty and dismantled, with many unemployed people, some very strange gentlemen, some very prim young ladies, and others very eccentric. There are also some very respectable people; but few. So, back to what I was saying: without giving us time to shake off the dust of the road, bang! a cloud of visitors; and immediately another… Oh, Virtues of my heart! What hardships those were… and what kinds of young ladies, and ladies… and even gentlemen! From what they did and said and the finery They brought me, I don’t want to talk to you about here, because I can’t: it’s too long a subject; and besides, for the painting to be faithful, you have to imitate voices and movements, gestures and other very important things. Leave all this for a natural painting when we meet, and be content with knowing now that when I found myself entangled in so many visits and with the obligation to pay for them one by one, and even with certain muffled threats of solemn festivals and private meetings , I was as frightened as if the whole sea and the whole town, turned into rubble, were falling on me. But Papa and some very good gentlemen who are here with us reassured me, assuring me that it would be over in half a week, and that in another half I would be paid for what I was worth. “And so fortunately it happened. After our last visit, we lived as free and independent as the air we breathe on these heights; and our hours are so busy that, as I told you at the beginning, I haven’t even had time to write to you.” And you’ll see that there’s no exaggeration in what I’m telling you. You know I have a passion for the countryside, a passion for the sea, a mania for walking a lot, and a vice for smearing canvases and papers, not to mention that I have a vice for painting; for to savor and foster these vices and passions, there are here not only the abundant means offered by Nature, but also certain accessory resources, but of the greatest importance, which chance has provided me. There are, for example, those who know this landscape path by path and inch by inch, and have, like me, the vice of walking through it; there are those who paint and draw admirably; there’s a pleasure boat, a sloop… a beautiful yacht that’s at my disposal, and those who steer it with a skill and serenity that would astonish you… there are even, if there’s anything else, those who listen with the heart of an artist to something I play on the piano, and even sing, with a beautiful voice, part of it, accompanied by me. I couldn’t rationally count on this when I came to Villavieja; much less on the fact that the tireless guide, the nature enthusiast , the painter, the skilled pilot, the owner of the beautiful yacht, and the lover of good music, would all be combined in a single person, a young man who can’t be more than twenty-eight years old. Now, be even more amazed: this young man is a pharmacist; and be even more amazed! His first name is Leto and his last name is Pérez; that is, Leto Pérez, apothecary of Villavieja, as they’ll write on the envelopes of the letters. Isn’t it unbelievable? Also accompanying us a lot, almost as much as he is, is a very well-known gentleman, Don Claudio Fuertes y León, a retired commander and Papa’s administrator and agent here. But this one, although he is very good, refined, and affectionate, and with delightful dalliances, is already an elderly gentleman, and furthermore, with a fear of seaside walks that makes us die of laughter. Imagine that he is from Astorga… These two fellows, and Don Adrián the apothecary, Leto’s father, a little old man all black from head to toe, except for his head, which is gray, and his little brown face, very good, very good!, who accompanies us for a while until dinnertime, are the limits of our society in Peleches. Well, with her alone, and what God has scattered with such abundance and beauty around this “land of my ancestors,” as Papa says, marvels of pleasure result… Of course, to you, who are frightened by solitude, and saddened by the noise of the groves, and enchanted by that of the street, and intoxicated by the mist of the halls, what I tell you must seem inconceivable; but I warn you that I am not trying to make you envious of me, but rather to let you know what happens to me. Remember, so that it will be less difficult for you to believe me, how many things I have been the opposite of others in. For example, and I quote it to you because you have often mentioned it to me, as one of the most astonishing of my _oddities_: I entered school, by my own pleasure as much or more than that of my father, at the age when some schoolgirls cease to be so; and all the eagerness that you had, and that is ordinarily had among _you_, to dress _long_ , I had to continue dressed in short, and if not, in short precisely because at certain times in life that would have been ridiculous as well as a great inconvenience, even _between day and night_, like an indecisive twilight, which doesn’t oblige you to anything and instead leaves you free among the anonymous crowd, with your senses very alert: in other words, a bargain to see everything without being seen by anyone. So it was that when for the first time I dressed as an _available_ lady, you were already back a long time ago. Of the things of the world _on the inside_, I know only what you have told me; a little more that I have glimpsed through the cracks _in passing_, mainly with my Mary, that English governess whom Papa very willingly dismissed when I entered school, and who had taken a year before; the little I have learned from the association of friends at home, and what is seen or transpires in the pages of some books and between the lines of others. With this background in mind and what you know of my tastes and inclinations, could it shock you in the least that, with the aforementioned elements of entertainment in Peleches, which would already kill you with grief, I spend hours without feeling them? “I even had my corresponding setbacks within it, believe it or not, and I even began to feel them a little, because friends are not made of iron, and Papa is no longer around, through lack of habit, to abuse certain bravery; but everything was overcome with the greatest ease and even to my advantage; for I have become accustomed to walking alone when I have no one to accompany me in these open surroundings, and I also go alone with Leto on his yacht, when Papa is not in the mood to come with us. This “alone with Leto” thing, don’t take it literally ; because Leto is always accompanied by his sailor, a certain Cornias, a very original and very likeable fellow, although he is cross-eyed in both eyes. Of course, this third person, indispensable on the ship to assist the pilot in maneuvering, would be damned useful there for anything else but good looks; and if you knew Leto as I do, you’d think the same. I believe him capable of the most heroic self-sacrifice. Don’t laugh; because I swear to you, this fellow is one of the most unique things anyone has ever seen. First of all, he’s a fine young man, not because of his height, which is no more than average, nor because of his showiness or flashiness, but because of his manliness and what can be called well-built from head to toe; handsome, very handsome, with beautiful eyes, a lovely beard, abundant hair , a complexion somewhat tanned by the sun and air, but juicy… a healthy man’s… in short, a man, what you’d call a man through and through . This is the first thing you notice about Leto Pérez… if he doesn’t know you’re looking at him; because if he does, he’s already someone else. And this is one of this boy’s peculiarities: he insists, or rather, he insisted, because lately he doesn’t insist so much on the fact that he is a completely insignificant person in deeds, words, and thoughts; and this idea intimidates him, frightens him… well, it even undoes him. Modesty cannot be taken to a greater extreme, with all my heart. I’ve told you that he draws and paints watercolors admirably; well, I had to insist on it insistently, so that he would come to believe it a little and dare to draw or paint before us. Something similar happens with the little he sings, with a beautiful baritone voice; and the same with his conversation: he no longer holds back in front of me… and if you could see how well he speaks and with what an interesting expression, when he lets himself go, confident in his own strength! At first he was delightful to talk to me: although by his intelligent glance it was clear that he was not ignorant of the way out of his predicament, he always took the worst and most disgraceful route. He was so reckless. And what a delightful way he sometimes had of correcting what he called his foolishness! You would be astonished at how candid and noble he is if I told you the case of a certain carnation that fell out of my mouth and he picked it up from the floor; how he threw it away because it was no longer useful to me; how and when and in what an original way he returned to search for him and guarded him like gold, and how I came to discover everything. Of course, I wasn’t offended by the joke, nor was there any reason to be. This encouraged him somewhat; and it could be said that the relative serenity with which he behaves in front of us dates from that time on. “But the place to see him is on his exquisite sloop, a gift from a splendid Englishman who lived in Villavieja for two years, and who became enthusiastic about this boy’s unusual clothes. There, he is truly a different man, Virtudes! There, he doesn’t know anyone, nor is he intimidated by anything. He is lord and king of the scene and the stage. Like the rider with his spirited horse, he seems to identify himself at sea with the slender little boat that dominates it. There, he is Leto, body and soul, in complete control of himself and just as God intended him to be. No danger is feared at his side; And seeing him smile, with his noble and intelligent gaze focused on everything, I would allow myself to be carried in that nutshell to the ends of the earth without the slightest misgiving… “And let’s pause here, because a suspicion suddenly assails me, noticing the heat of what I’ve written about the son of the apothecary of Villavieja, and remembering how malicious you are. Even if you weren’t, I would grant you a certain right now to doubt the disinterestedness of my praise; because I myself, being what I am, when I’ve seen the heroine in some book indulge in such praises of a neighboring gallant, I’ve immediately said to myself: “I’ve got you pretty caught, you’re dead on me.” You see how frank I am, Virtudes. Well, you would be mistaken if you thought that of me in relation to this young man, given how much I praise him.” There’s not even a hint of anything you could presume, nor any trace that the slightest idea of ​​that kind has crossed his mind, nor any reason for it to cross mine either… I’m just beginning to live; I’ve just left, so to speak, the nest, hungry for freedom and space in which to enjoy it without hindrance; and was there any need?… What madness, Virtudes! Deep sympathy; the greatest esteem; sincere friendship, yes, because he deserves it all… The positive thing, the certain thing, is that if I were asked today by someone who had the gift of arranging things to suit my whim, what I most desire, I would answer without hesitation and with my heart on my tongue: “That this life I now lead never end .” And nothing more and nothing less, Virtudes; believe me or not . “And let’s get to something else. My cousin Nacho should be here in fifteen or twenty days: he’s already written to us of his arrival in England. For this reason, we have arranged his office as best we could with the limited resources at hand. I think it has turned out very well; but Papa thinks nothing of it is too little for that nephew… “Since he is so slight in his manners and, judging by the style of his letters, seems to be the same languor in the flesh, I am very much afraid that the whole thing will be of no use for the life we ​​lead here. If this turns out to be true, and out of courtesy we have to accommodate ourselves to his way of life… then I am truly going to have a good time! For the time being, these doubts are somewhat troubling me. This is not to say that I am sorry about my cousin’s coming; but if he were to tell me that he was refusing to come for his own good, or that he was postponing it until next summer, I might be pleased with the news. Would you like to be more frank? “I am thinking of beginning a long course of wave baths very soon: not because I need them, but to sample all the good things here; And this beach is one of the best in the world, in the opinion of the people of Villavieja, who never use it for that… or for anything else. “In a few days, the arrival of _El Atlante_ is expected, a small coastal steamer, the only ship that enters this port and gives its customs office a hard time. It comes every six or eight months to load the coal that has been stored in a mine owned by a local. They say that the arrival of this steamer is always an event in Villavieja, and the only occasion on which people of Villavieja are seen on the dock and in the surrounding area. It’s curious, isn’t it? That’s why I’m telling you, and also “because I have nothing better to tell you, for now. “With such a compelling reason and the formal promise to be more diligent in writing to you in the future, I end this letter here, offering you its length and the frankness with which it is filled, as examples that you are obliged to imitate when you reply to me; above all that of frankness. With that and the store there will be _at home_, what better novel for me than the letter you write me? “While awaiting it, your friend »NIEVES» embraces you with all her soul. _»August 5, 18…»_ «G. P. SHAPCOAT ESQ.» _»119, Grave Street Liverpool._ …………………………………………….
“Such is the faithful history of events, clean and stark of all commentary. With the idea you have formed, and well formed, of my character, does it not seem improbable to you the role of gallant that I play in it, and impossible that I have managed to accommodate myself to it? It’s not in vain that I’ve predicted to you several times, speaking of the imperturbable tranquility of Villavieja, that the first new thing that happened here would be very strange. Well, now my predictions have come true… The miracle happened as almost all miracles of its kind happen: with a bit of chance and a bit of… what a pain! I’m becoming convinced that, most of the time, the blame for one’s own weaknesses lies in the bad tastes of others; in the lack of mutual compensation; in the foolish insistence on taking someone for the side most useless for the destiny one wants to assign them. The opposite of what has happened here. I’ve already painted a physical and moral picture of Nieves for you: well, now imagine that beautiful, intelligent creature, with a noble and courageous soul, and a heart as clean and healthy as a little ball of gold, with the same tastes and hobbies as me; Suppose she’s determined that I paint better than Velázquez, that I sing like a nightingale, that I’m the most skilled pilot in the world, and that I’m priceless for directing and organizing country expeditions; add that she makes me her teacher, her inseparable guide, her confidant, and her closest friend; and add also that she’s persuasive by the force of her crystal-clear talent, and equally by the virtue of her beauty; and what a load of rubbish, man! Either one must be a cobblestone, or one must believe and surrender: then or never. And when this step has been taken , the end result is looking inward, putting the probe into the core, breaking down what’s there, seeing it with magnifying eyes, studying it calmly, appraising it affectionately, and feeling very satisfied with the discovery, however paltry it may be; A satisfaction that brings with it a certain security, a certain confidence that was previously lacking in one’s own moral strength… All this, I believe, is very excusable and even natural in the wretched human condition. Everything requires its own element to live and develop. Man’s ideas are in the same situation: they are educated, strengthened, and even illuminated by the help of certain external agents that seem providential in certain situations in life.—Gosh, if I’m thinking of some pretty good things now!—The crux of the matter is that these agents come out of hiding and want to take it out on you, as they have taken it out on me on this occasion… and God reward them for the good service they have done me. It’s fine to be in the limbo of insignificance; but it’s better, because one is worth much more, where I am now; not in the region of the suns, because I’m not an eagle, but where one sees clearly and one doesn’t grope. But what else? Don’t you see my language? Don’t you see my style? Leto philosophizing! Leto metaphysician! Leto sentimentalist! Do you want any stranger news or more obvious miracle for a place like Villavieja? Have my predictions come true or not? But let’s suppose that you agree with me on this point, and that you accept the way the miracle happened: “Common,” you immediately think, “I see that it was because she wanted it, Nieves Bermúdez, the beautiful, the intelligent, the rich, the discreet, the one with the noble soul and heart of gold; because, in short, a woman wanted it such as has not been seen in Villavieja or will be seen again in the centuries of centuries, you, miserable Leto, you rose up and walk; but _where_ are you going? Damn, you are malicious! How do I know where I am going? I go everywhere and nowhere, and I walk because it suits me well that way, because I like to walk. It is not worth confusing the light with the star that produces it: it would be good if one could not love the one without coveting the other! Could there be a greater folly? For I would commit an equally great act if my devotions fell on the side of your suspicions . I want to warn you in time: I am a grateful admirer, not a lover: the former is permissible for anyone; the latter requires a daring that is not within my control, nor will it ever be, because there are no reasons for it to be. How could I not know that what most affects Nieves’s inclination towards me is the identity of affections that exists between us? Without that coincidence, I would be, to Don Alejandro Bermúdez’s daughter , just another Villaveja resident; at most, the son of the apothecary Don Adrián, an old and good friend of her father’s. Nor would I intend to take my scruples to the extreme of supposing that Nieves is treating me only because she needs me; for if we were to cast such a fine figure in the world, where would we end up, nor on what would we place our affections that we believed well placed? Esteem between two people must begin somewhere; and certainly this something is not always as genuine as that engendered by the friendship with which Don Alejandro Bermúdez’s daughter honors me. Having put things at this point, the only one they should be , the final fact turns out to be where I was headed: the light was dawned and the miracle was worked in me. Do you want it clearer? Well, I swear I’m afraid I’ll muddy it if I insist on clarifying it. “As for the rest, what a pain! In cases as exceptional as this one, suspicions of a certain kind are almost necessary. They even assail me sometimes! You see: in the coming and going of ideas, in the waning and growing of enthusiasms, boundaries and boundaries blur, and a mess forms there, so tangled and so rebellious that sometimes all the analytical power of discourse isn’t enough to unravel it. I could cite you many examples of this. Here’s one for now: Nieves has a Mexican cousin, whom she is said to be marrying; and the portrait of this cousin, which is due to arrive in Peleches any day now, occupies a prominent place in Nieves’s studio. From that portrait, I know that the cousin is very handsome; and from what I’ve been told, that he is very rich and very good. I was pleased with all this in the first few days of knowing him: nothing could be more natural, what a joke !… as he is today, because I still hold him in all the esteem he deserves for his appearance, which is superior, as I said; only on some occasions, since I’ve known he’s about to arrive, I either think of the portrait or start looking at him, for you already have me somewhat disgusted at seeing the young man handsome, and knowing that he’s rich and kind… well, something is rising in my heart, like a vague wish that the cousin never shows up here all the days of his life, and that, if he does, he’ll turn out to be pockmarked, and a fool to boot, and poor to boot. Have you ever seen such an atrocity? It seems so enormous to me and so beyond all excuse, that because I feel it probing my mind, I’m already loathing it. “Who are you, you idiot,” I say to myself, “to dare to do such things?” If he is handsome, if he is rich, if he is bright and honorable, and Nieves loves him, and bases her happiness on loving him and making him her husband, what does it matter to you? Is this how you repay her for the distinctions with which she honors you and the esteem she holds in you? Were the doors of Peleches opened wide for you for that? Is it right that, entering through them as an honorable friend, you expect to remain inside as the lord and master of the lords themselves? You, obscure villager, prosaic pharmacist, vile worm of the earth, dare to face the very sun that with its warmth gave you life! Where has anything like this ever been seen?… Pay, pay, your debts of a slave, sweeping the floors where she treads, and be ashamed of having raised your eyes so high.” Gosh, what terrible things I say to myself on such occasions; and how my ears ring with blush, just imagining that they could have read such evil thoughts on my face! And all because of the dragged confusion of ideas; because of the ugly habit one has of refining with analysis those that seem best to oneself. A question, a gesture, a look, which are not the look, the gesture, and the question of every day, already gives us something to ponder, to weigh , and to measure for a good while… until common sense comes along, giving the exact measure of things and placing each of them in its corresponding point of view; and the hallucination ends. “I have told you that the regions of light I now inhabit seem better to me than the limbo of yesteryear, and they truly are. But this does not prevent me from hesitating for a long time before making up my mind whether or not things return to what they were, leaving the slightest trace of their passage in memory or heart . The present is good, healthy, and beautiful; but every time I consider that it may end at the least expected hour; that the inhabitants of Peleches disappear from here; that the palace closes and returns to silent slumber on its heights—ah, what a sad color I see it all! How black the Bermúdez estate seems to me; how murky the sea; how long the hours, and how dull life! In these shadows of the imagination, I accept the rich, learned, and pox-free little Mexican, if with him, as lord and master of the lady and mistress of Peleches, the customs there remain in the same state and condition they are now; with which I give you very clear proof that my enthusiasms do not go beyond the rational limits that correspond to them; that my ambitions are centered on the enjoyment of light, not on the absurd greed of the luminous star; on living as I live now, in a word. “And you see how things are: by concentrating all my pleasures on this way of life, those good gentlemen of Peleches believe they are doing me a great service by relieving me from time to time of what they consider a heavy burden for me. What a heavy burden to converse with Nieves, to gather her impressions as an artist and an observant woman, and her confidences, always original and spontaneous, and as picturesque as everything that springs from her luminous mind! Under some pretext, the program is halted, and Don Claudio Fuertes and I are temporarily discharged . Now we are in one of those tiresome parentheses, or waiting periods, as the commander calls them, who deplores them far less than I do. I have gone three days without seeing the Peleches family, except for a short while at dusk; and since the idle hours seem like ages to me, and the weather is beautiful, and the old amusements at the Casino do not satisfy me, the yacht pays for it. “About the yacht, I have only told you that Nieves is dying to ride on it, and that her father, less fond of this diversion than she is, when he does not want or cannot accompany her, very gladly tolerates her going alone with me and the famous Cornias; but I have not told you anything about how intrepid she is there, or how the pleasure she is possessed by is revealed to him in the ardor of her gaze and the gracefulness of her postures; Nor of how he tempts and seduces me with words or gestures more tempting than these, to force and compel the sloop to do what I do not want it to do, nor should it do when it carries such a precious cargo… And the devil of the little boat, as if I knew him, man! Even Cornias himself thinks he looks like someone else when Nieves is in it. Gosh, how he flaunts himself then, and with what grace he heels and makes the rigging talk, and glides and crawls! In short, a pure darling. It is true that he was always a marvel in these matters; but even so , there is room for improvement, and you well know how much distance, class, and the point of the light that illuminates them influence the appearance of things. “In the end,” I say to myself in these cases, “the length of my incomparable My friend has found his just reward; the jewel now has a use worthy of its great value. And so, my friend, my conscience does not bother me at being the owner of what I do not deserve, and I even congratulate myself on not having offered any greater resistance than I did to your lavish gift. It is well spent now! May God preserve it for many years to come. But in all this, am I doing right or wrong in entertaining you with these fantasies that make me feel like a child in new shoes? What judgment will you form of them and of me? For the love of God, do not laugh, and consider that being obliged to relate the events to you, as I have related them at the beginning of the letter, I could not leave them without the spice of what I add to the story, under penalty of leaving you plunged into deeper confusion, or of taking me for a most solemn liar; Because, truly, the above case would be incredible without the explanation below, for anyone who has known me as you did. What I have lacked, and this is where my fears arise, are the nails to tear out from within me the core of the matter, so clean of adhesions and tatters, that you might come to see it with the same clarity that I see you. Oh, dammit! If only I had those metaphysical nails, what colors that painting would have turned out to be, and how calm my conscience as a narrator would be now! But it is what always happens: things happen; you go feeling them and estimating them one by one, and entrusting them equally to the judgment or affection of a friend, and they all seem natural and ordinary, and ordering and accommodating themselves without reservations, or astonishment, or fuss from anyone; but devour them alone; store them inside, and at the least expected hour, release the entire and true collection so that it can be seen and valued at its true worth: now they seem like different things, and even what you intended to be a molehill turns out to be a mountain, or vice versa… Of course, I’m talking about what usually happens to me, to end up with the fact that what will surprise you, without you being able to understand it clearly, seeing it spilled out in this letter, would have surprised you less and you would have appreciated it better if you were an eyewitness to the events. “In any case, whether you laugh at the confidence or not, keep it and always keep it as a sure pledge of the deep affection professed to you by your best and most grateful friend LETO PÉREZ. August 10, 18…” Chapter 16. Press release. On one occasion, while the Peleches family were strolling around the Glorieta, out of pure courtesy, after high mass, Nieves noticed something odd about the Villavejanas’ demeanor; something forced that disfigured them all in the same way and according to the same pattern, if I may say so. She discussed the observation with Leto, who was at her side, and Leto said to her: “Look closely, especially at the Chief Clerk, who’s the one who exaggerates it the most… Don’t you get it? ” “I don’t get it.” “Well, it’s because they’ve all taken the liberty of imitating you in your way of walking and dress.” Nieves crossed herself. That same afternoon, Leto met the Clerks, he going toward the pharmacy and they toward the Glorieta. There was nothing unusual about this; But he did have one, as Leto passed elbow to elbow with the Senior Clerk, who said in an angry voice, turning her face toward him, who had greeted him very courteously: “Scandalous!” The poor boy was left seeing visions. Why such an insult? Where, when, or how had he caused scandal?… Gosh with that saying… and in the middle of the street, right at point-blank range! And even if he had caused scandal, what did it matter to her?… What the great one! But wasn’t it also credible that the curse word that seemed like an insult to him was simply one of those uttered by the Clerk in the heat of the silent quarrel she would be engaged in with her sisters, as usual ? Anyway, he didn’t understand it; and after all, what did it matter to him? Leto, with the life he was leading lately, was far behind in News. He knew that shortly after the Peleches men arrived from Seville and Nieves was out to see them, the Villavieja-born boys tried to give the Sevillian a “party of honor” at the Casino; he knew that Mona Codillo and Celia Tejares, the eldest Indiana, were willing to play four- handed the three pieces they always played there and in the town hall; and he knew, finally, that there was a collection of more than ten _Poemitas y Meditaciones_ available to accompany the thunder of the music; some _levisacs_ being re-trimmed, and up to half a dozen tailcoats soaking; but he was unaware that ever since the Bermúdezes had been shown to be planning to isolate themselves in their little castle of Peleches, and, what was even worse, ever since they had been seen to exclude from their “haughty disdain” “an uncivil soldier, a doddering apothecary, and his lazy son,” that is to say, “the lowest and most despicable of Villavieja,” things had changed in appearance: the girls flatly refused, some to play, others to attend; the boys, who might have aspired to be regulars in Peleches and lance-breaking knights of the beautiful Castilian, began to snort; And although there were some less fussy ones who wanted to get in on the festival with all their might, Maravillas put out their flames, showing them in his own way that ” celebrations should be paid only to the genius of man, not to a theological chimera or the vanity of a powerful man who took pleasure in humiliating them.” Let the miserable lackey Leto celebrate them, pinned down, sweeping the floors on his knees for the crust of bread they gave him. All this, just for the first few days; because as soon as it became known that Nieves was wandering alone through the rugged and shady areas of Peleches, and she even happened to see herself, alone, in the bay with the apothecary’s son, the fuss knew no bounds, and the women were indignant, while at the same time they strove to imitate her in the cut of her dresses and her way of walking. Leto had to be quite blind and quite deaf then not to see or hear what was done and said in Villavieja against the “shameless Andalusian woman, the stupid Macedonio.” The nickname had apparently spread against him, and against him, against Leto, “the conceited, conceited fool and scandalous corrupter” of the good morals there. Because the Escribanas and Codillo’s women, and Rufita González, but mainly the Escribanas, were the ones who harassed him in social gatherings and on walks, and the ones who spat sideways and held their noses in the middle of the street as soon as they heard the mention of the Bermúdezes or anything related to them; which didn’t stop them from splitting hairs trying to greet them when they were in front of them. The Chief Clerk, who apparently had her own personal reasons for leading that conspiracy of women and unemployed youths because the flood didn’t get through here, one day caught Maravillas at gunpoint and told him that he and all those with him involved in the mess of a newspaper in print would have neither the guts nor the honor if they didn’t throw him out as soon as possible. But she was full of cannon fire against certain bad examples that corrupted the honest customs of certain honorable peoples, and against the scandalous traitors who helped outsiders corrupt their own. Maravillas extolled his civilizing yearnings and his “positivist convictions,” demonstrating his great desire to please the Clerk; but immediately afterwards, he outlined the vile and mechanical difficulties that existed in carrying them out: one of them was the discouragement of his collaborators to provide the necessary funds . “That’s why it’s not left out,” said the other with the tragic gesture of a homely amateur, “we are rich; and for the good and honor of Villavieja, we will give even our petticoats. ” Maravillas shook her hand in silence, and left, promising that _El Fénix Villavejano_ would not keep him waiting long. Leto knew nothing of this or anything else that afternoon; just as he didn’t know that the Vélez family had been snooping around about these things from their dovecote in Costanilla, and that the saddened Manrique had revealed himself in those days. purposes of intimating the deal with the Bermúdezes to carry out a certain plan that he had devised and declared to his sister, she said to him, standing up pale and dry, like a very large tibia: “I swear that this palace will burn to the four corners, as soon as you bring me a sister-in-law of that nature.” For which reason Manrique Vélez had _renounced_ marrying Nieves Bermúdez. Chapter 17. Out to Sea. I tell you, carape! that this is a problem that makes you dizzy. Come here, all the wise men of the earth, and prove to me that it is within common sense that a man with a beard spends half the night awake, upset at not having gone up to Peleches in forty-eight hours. What have they to prove? And much less if I tell them: “Remember that the man in my example has no obligations to fulfill there, nor does he owe a penny to his father, nor is he in love with his daughter, nor is Christ who founded it; that he is nothing more than a regular at the house and a friend who often walks with the lords of the house, not since the beginning of time, but for the last two months; that if he hasn’t attended the last two evening gatherings, it’s because at those very hours he’s had important occupations in his father’s pharmacy, which gives him his daily bread; that this man has never known a bad mood, nor taken anything seriously, both inside and outside the house; that he’s brimming with life and health, and that he fears nothing, owes nothing, envies nothing… Finally, this man exists in the flesh; and I am, Leto Pérez, the son of the apothecary from Villavieja, and an apothecary himself.” And then the wise men would answer me, however little wise they might be: “Well, Leto Pérez, the son of the apothecary from Villavieja, has no common sense.” And I don’t have it, damn it! I don’t have it, that’s all I was saying; for if I did, what’s happening to me wouldn’t happen to me; because that can only happen to a man of common sense in one case, and I deny that case; and not only do I deny it, but the supposition of it seems to me the most enormous absurdity , and also irreverent… what am I saying, irreverent? A sacrilege. From which it is clear that I fell short when, writing to the Englishman, I told him that between being what I am now and returning to what I was, I would vacillate… Vacillate, damn it! I blindly cling to what was yesterday. Yesterday I was the most careless and fortunate man on earth; and today I am perhaps burdened by every misfortune that falls upon me. What else? “Even the very job I make a living from is starting to feel out of hand! It’s a shame to admit it; but it’s the pure truth. Nothing, damn it! The way things are going, it’s as if I’d been born two months ago. From that date onwards, it’s limbo… To say that even the yacht imposes conditions on me to make itself loved… Has anyone ever seen another? Well, that’s right. Either with her on board, or no way. And with these fussinesses, six days of laziness, the scoundrel… But I won’t go through with this, because that would be unheard of… Today my nose has swelled, and I’m going to give you three cups, for the same reason you don’t want any broth…” Leto Pérez was ranting about this art to himself one morning, going down to the dock, without a tie or vest, with a wide beret on his head and, for all his outer clothing, a jacket and linen trousers . As he paced his thoughts, he walked relatively slowly, somewhat downcast, with his hands in his pockets. Cornias was rigging the yacht, moored to the companionway. “Hush!” he said as soon as he stepped onto the first step, “to see if we can get off the moor with the remaining bowsprit and the small anchor. ” He immediately got out and began to help Cornias to finish first. Once the task was finished, he warned him: “Let’s get off the mooring so we can clear the way. ” Cornias, with the agility and speed of a monkey, began to carry out the order, untying the bow rope to release it. “Wait!” Leto suddenly said, with an inflection in his voice that revealed something strange to Cornias. He stopped the task and looked at Leto, who was aft and on the tiptoes, as if fascinated, his eyes fixed on the white silhouette of Nieves that had just appeared at the top of the Miradorio. “Oh, carape!” he said to himself. “I wasn’t counting on this just now. Did she see the yacht rigged up from up there? Will she be coming here?… Judging by the looks of it, yes… Well, I’m fit to receive her, carape!… But, if you look closely, I’m not dirty or torn… What if she hasn’t seen us, and isn’t coming to what I presume? Do I wait?… Do I leave?… Leave! I should see! Could I, even if I wanted to? Well, aren’t all my fibers vibrating as if I had suddenly swelled with the health I lacked?… Carape, carape, man, what strange things these are!… I can’t see her anymore… Why aren’t the thickets that hide her now transparent? Where will she come from?” “Where, where! Do you have to go see him, you simpleton, the more you’re looking forward to it?… Yes, indeed; but how will he take it? Well? Badly? Oh, what lingering mistrusts of mine, which I can’t quite cure! At one… at two… Cornias!” he said aloud, “dock again… and wait like that, I’ll be back at once. ” He jumped onto the ladder, climbed it in two strides, crossed the dock and the platform in a few more, took the road to the Miradorio; and as he reached the first slope, he found himself face to face with Nieves, who was also coming along the landing at full speed, a little breathless and a little anxious; but very pretty, very pretty! The poor thing was afraid of being late: she had seen the blue grimpolón from up there , and from it she had presumed that the Flash was tied up at the dock; And once docked at the pier, it would be to go sailing somewhere… “Well, that’s a good opportunity,” she had said to herself then. “Maybe Leto wants to take me”; and hail, hail, hail… how angry she felt about that stretch of road so hidden from the pier, where it was useless to signal or shout! And what if in the meantime the yacht left? And she, who wanted so much to take another ride on it! Since last time, eleven days at least… and two without Leto going up to Peleches, nor showing himself anywhere . Had he been sick? Was he angry, resentful of something ? How unfair it would be! In Peleches, everyone, everyone esteemed him highly and was very grateful. There was very little left for Leto to do in that scene that imposed so much on him from afar. Nieves gave him everything; she opened all the paths for him; And what a sweet look, what a melodious tone of voice, what a spontaneous and bewitching volatility! You’d have to be a real fool not to dare, with that drive that seemed superhuman to him , to be a little sincere and expressive too; and he dared to be. He explained why he hadn’t gone up to Peleches in two days. He was angry, he was offended! That was really not knowing him!… when precisely the hours of those days had seemed like centuries to him! To pass the time better until nightfall, when he planned to return to the Peleches gathering, he had decided to spend the morning at sea; and as he was already undocking the yacht to leave, he had seen her coming down the Miradorio, and had gone out to meet her to put himself at her orders, in case she hadn’t seen the sloop rigged, or wasn’t in the mood to embark on it. Wow, the apothecary’s son did emphasize the long hours, and was courageous and clever in other similar subtleties! And Nieves, so proud of them and so grateful. Let them ask her then if the cross of her new life weighed on her, and if, to unburden herself of it, she wanted to return to the limbo she had been sighing for so long! But why was Nieves around at that hour? Leto dared to ask her too, as the two of them were already walking toward the dock; and it turned out that Nieves and her father, after taking a long walk toward the mine, had sat down to read in the Glorieta: Don Alejandro a newspaper, and she the book she was carrying under her arm. Don Alejandro soon grew tired of reading and returned home with the intention of spending the whole morning dealing with his overdue correspondence; she stayed reading and warned her father that she was planning to give up. Then a stroll along the Miradorio, as he often did. From the Miradorio, he had glimpsed the sloop’s mast with its blue flagpole, and the mischievous temptations had done the rest. “So, Leto,” he said in conclusion, pausing to say it, ” that trip is going to be illegal, because Papa doesn’t know anything about it. Keep that in mind and tell me how long it will take to take him by sea… because today’s trip has to be by sea, or I’m not embarking. ” “Well, it will be by sea if you want,” Leto responded, enchanted by the determined air of the spirited Sevillian woman, “and we can be back before noon. ” “Current,” Nieves replied after meditating for a few moments, frowning . “And tell me now, in conscience as a good friend and an honorable man: am I doing right or wrong in these things? ” “What things?” Leto asked her, somewhat surprised. “Coming here alone to run adventures of this kind… It’s a question I’ve asked myself many times, and just once to Papa. ” “And what did your papa tell you?” Leto asked her again, entering into deeper apprehensions. “You’ve seen how many trips I’ve taken without him on the sloop, with his great pleasure… The dangers of the ship worry him somewhat, due to his poor judgment; but since I don’t fear them and you’re a good pilot, as long as I have fun… As for the rest, he’s of the opinion that one doesn’t come here to observe etiquette, nor to become a slave to vain considerations. ” “Very well thought out. ” “I think so too; but what about certain people? Do they think the same? ” “Do you trust me, Nieves? ” “As you trust my father: I swear to you. ” “Well then, what does it matter to you what these certain people think? Do what you want and laugh at them.” “Do you believe it, Leto? ” “With all my heart. ” “Then let’s not talk about this anymore.” “And tell me, is it a suitable day to go out to sea? ” “Would I try it if it weren’t, Nieves? And tell me: won’t Don Alejandro be upset with me when he learns that without his permission I have consented to do what he dislikes so much? ” “No, sir, as long as we’re back before he can be alarmed by my delay. ” “That’s on me. It’s a quarter to nine… a little after eleven you can be in Peleches… because we won’t be reaching the island of Cuba… I mean, I’m counting on you not to think of it. ” “I find that idea amusing!… And if I did think of it, Leto? ” “If you did think of it?… That’s funny to me too.” Well, please don’t try it for now… Are you getting tired at the pace we’re going? “Bah! ” “There’s no time to lose if we have to leave at low tide and before the breeze picks up. That’s why I’ve allowed myself… ” “Do you want me to run even faster? ” “There’s no need: we’re already two steps from the dock. ” “Who’s that fellow riding on it? ” “A certain Maravillas: he walks around here sometimes, so that people will believe he studies in the great book of nature: he’s a philosopher and an atheist. ” “Jesus! ” “Yes, ma’am: a terrible boy. Now he’s bringing up the idea of ​​publishing a newspaper, and he doesn’t end up publishing it. ” “What a smile he looks at us with!” “He’s so atheistic and compassionate that he is; only one day someone will slap that little smile off his face… I mean, it seems to me… Aha!… here we are… Today one hand is not enough, because there are many uncovered steps and they are somewhat slippery: be so good as to take my arm… Dock well, Cornias, and hold firm!… Little by little, Nieves… Let me go to the sloop first… Give me your hand now… Very well… You are already launching, Cornias; and in the air… Ready the jib to head!… Go to your usual place, Nieves, that is the safest… That’s it… Onward we go… Ready the rigging! All the sails were hoisted in a moment; and with the earth-staff that still remained, although in its death throes, and the ebb and flow, the Flash began to sail towards out. Since the force of the air was so slight and the water offered no resistance, the keel glided without the retinue of foam and murmurs that Nieves sorely missed. “It will come in its own time, and in abundance,” Leto told her, “because the day is not one for such things… if you do not repent. ” “Do you think I am capable of repenting,” she asked him, looking at him fixedly with a look of astonishment, “after wanting it so much?” “As you have never seen yourself in that situation,” Leto replied, regretting having raised the suspicion. “Not here; but I have already told you that in other places, yes; and even if this were the first time, do you have so little confidence in the strength of my resolutions? ” “As far as they depend on your will, no,” Leto said. But as in matters of the sea, even the most experienced do not always cut where they point… “Well, then we will see, sir sailor, whether or not there is the courage here to cut where they have pointed. In the meantime, I forbid you to venture a judgment on the matter.” Leto almost blushed for lack of gallant subtlety with which to respond to Nieves’s most delicious rebuke. “What a beautiful collection you have made today!” he said so as not to end the conversation, alluding to the half-garland of herbs and flowers that Nieves wore on her breast. “Have you seen,” she responded, lowering her little head to look at them and caressing them at the same time with her hand, “what exquisite ferns ? Three kinds, each finer than the last… Well, and these little plumes of crimson lanterns? What did you tell me the other day they were called? ” “Heather.” “That’s true, heather: how beautiful!” And what about those other little blue flowers at her side? What a fine and delicate thing! See how beautifully these wild daisies, so white with their golden centers, make a perfect match for it all… What a beautiful piece of country! Leto, speaking with Nieves about these and other similar things, with complete carelessness, because the even and monotonous progress of the ship did not demand much attention, very often he paid attention, except in the words he addressed to his lovely interlocutor, to the battle of thoughts inspired in him by the presence of that creature, entrusted to his skill and loyalty on that pebble of the world, between the sky and the sea, in the midst of the august stillness of Nature. Whatever profound and human poetry throbbed beneath the humble apothecary’s crust was then moved and magnified, filling his mind with light and his chest with unknown sensations; and it would have been something worthy of being seen printed on paper, the inner image of the vehement and unnoticed Leto, lost in the evolutions of his thought, and in the desire to analyze them all, flying from the most vile to the most lofty, from the greatest to the smallest; very often distorting the species, and rushing into the trivial and vulgar after having serenely rocked in the heights of the sublime. Thus, for example, after it had seemed heretical to him to have believed it possible to exchange the sweet present for the insipid limbo of his past, with all the setbacks and bitterness that it would necessarily bring with it, he was suddenly blushed by the petty idea of ​​seeing himself there, so close to Nieves, dressed like a hustler… perhaps at the very moment in which Nieves, looking at him furtively, saw him much more of a man and more handsome than ever, with those clean, loose, and simple attire. These entertaining things lasted for Leto, and probably for the little Sevillian girl as well, a little more than a quarter of an hour; until the sloop broke loose, and Nieves began to feel those inexplicable impressions, a strange mixture of terror and joy, that take hold of enthusiastic novices like herself, when they suddenly find themselves rocked by the salty waves of that boundless abyss. “We’re out now,” Leto told her, reading those impressions on her face. ” The symptoms couldn’t be better: a sifting calm. Observe that kind of wall of fog on the horizon: it’s what they call a brow.” the sailors; the best sign, in summer, that it’s going to _echar stiffo_, that is, that a fresh, well-battened breeze will blow soon, as also demonstrated by this bit of trickery that makes the ship roll and the sails flap, abandoned to their own weight… Cornias! She’s stocking up on lanyards and quinales, she’s working the mast too hard… So we find ourselves in the best condition to test the yacht’s sails… or to return to the port in ten minutes, aft, if you regret having come this far… Quite frankly, Nieves. Quite frankly, and even enthusiastically, the spirited Sevillian confirmed her desire to carry out her cherished project. It’s true that the boats in which she had sailed twice in Andalusia were larger, considerably larger than the Flash; but so what? What was lost in leisure time was gained in enjoying the adventures of the walk more closely . So, onward. “Well, onward,” Leto repeated, very excited, “and let’s not talk about it anymore… All right, Cornias! The breeze is already picking up. It took less time than I expected, and I’m glad; that way we’ll start first to finish sooner… because you’re in a bit of a hurry, Nieves, aren’t you? ” “Whether you’re here or not,” Nieves responded with charming formality, “the walk has to be proper. So just stick to that, nothing more … Are we ready? Gosh, how those little Sevillian cuties electrified Leto! Suddenly he said to her: “Do you see that little gray curl the sea has over there, moving toward us? Well, it’s the dust the breeze raises on the path it’s coming at… What a pace it’s coming at!” Then, turning to Cornias, he called out: “Here we are… Headstaff, we’re rounding up, now we’re tacking… And you, Nieves,” he said, turning to her, “hold fast to the coaming and don’t be careless for a moment, because this isn’t the bay… And pardon me if from now on I don’t do you the honors of the house as I would like, because this young gentleman is somewhat light-headed, and I’m going to have to pay close attention to him very often.” At this point, the Flash, feeling the first gusts of breeze in her rigging , leaned over to the port side; and Leto then said: “Off to the tack!” And the sloop began to sail, tacking and heeling; but not as in the bay, on a perfectly horizontal plane, but rather with rolls and pitches, which became more pronounced as the breeze freshened and the sea rippled, covering itself with swells and swells. Nieves was somewhat startled by the first heaves, which even plunged the helm beneath the turbulent, foaming water; but Leto’s unalterable serenity and his deep, tenacious attention to the rigging, the tiller, the entire structure of the boat and its course, and a few glances at her of lively and affectionate interest, soon calmed her down, and she even came to find that incessant rocking, which gave her the effect of a swing, very amusing. Leto was right when he told Nieves not to ask him for courtesies as soon as the boat started sailing: ten minutes after saying that, he was no longer at home; he was already outside of himself, his carnal and proper nature; he was already like the spirit, the soul of the boat he steered; The active, intelligent being had been infused into the frame and canvas of the yacht; Leto Pérez didn’t think, observe, or feel as a man, but as a boat; he was like an intelligent yacht, or a rational being with the forms of a sloop: whatever you will. Nieves read this transfiguration clearly in his eyes and attitudes, and she became absorbed in contemplating him thus, certain that she was not being observed by him, who had the whole sea, the whole breeze, and the entire, true boat inside his head. From time to time, but always quite in time, he would go off on his own, looking or speaking briefly to Nieves, like a mortal, living, and effective Leto; something that pleased her very much, because she didn’t like to see herself there as alone as she sometimes thought she was. “Are you all right?” he asked her. And she was back on the boat again at once… “We’re doing well,” he thought to his timbers, “but not as far as we should. We need to get a little closer… a little further… We’ve already got the helm in… We’ve put out at least six miles… Luff a bit now so we can right and go more easily, although with less speed… Good, good!… There are those damned creatures, racing with me… “Stop.” Look at the dolphins, Nieves, in herds, giving you honor guard, and doing somersaults out of the water for you to admire. How they want to show off their lightness by perhaps passing us by the bow ! Nieves admired them, and even feared them when she saw them emerge from the abyss next to the helm, turning over like pieces of black wheel with sharp steel blades embedded in the rim. “There’s no need to worry,” he told her, “they’re completely harmless little animals , and stupid ones at that. ” And with that, he infused his spirit back into the body of his ship and did all the thinking for it: “This isn’t a long walk, with this sea and this breeze; we’ll have to put in again, even though the garranchos are plentiful… It’s a matter of bailing out, if necessary. Two garranchos on board. “Stop.” Watch your feet, Nieves… and hold on… Can you turn your head a little more to the left? ” “I think so! Why? ” “So that you can see Peleches from here. ” Nieves turned around as Leto wanted, and immediately exclaimed: “Oh, how clear it looks! How high and far away it is, and how the house is lit up by the sun! It seems as if it’s looking at us through the windows… Could someone see us from there, Leto? ” “The sloop is as small as a cigarette paper; But for us, it’s a little difficult with the naked eye… Hold on, Nieves, there’s a lot of trickery and the rolling is very strong. Here you can’t say, as in a bay, that the boat tastes the water; but rather it spits it out and slaps it and rams it, isn’t that true?… and even argues with it, which, as you can see, doesn’t hold its tongue either… Look far away, some boats running a long way… They’re bonito boats, for sure… That’s how you catch bonito, by trolling. A little later, he asked Nieves, on whose face, paler than usual, one could read no expression other than that of intense curiosity , if she was satisfied with the test, or wanted to push it further. “Up to now,” Nieves responded intrepidly, “the yacht has only taken in one board; and you told me it can handle three.” “Two, Nieves… ” “Three, Leto: I remember it well. ” “With me, yes; but with you, I dare not. ” “Are you afraid of doing a somersault? ” “Never; but there are other dangers… ” “Well, I want all three boards. I’m already used to rolling, and this is starting to seem delightful.” Leto, subject to deceiving her with a well-disguised trick, promised to oblige, because he lacked the willpower to contradict her. “Well, let’s do it,” he said, “and hold on tight, because I’m going to prepare for our arrival.” He turned his attention from Nieves and focused it entirely on the yacht. “The truth is,” he thought, “this is a golden opportunity to do that and even more; but damn it!… no sir, no sir: I’m trying, I’m trying, you don’t have any sacks of straw on board… And the damned thing is dying to. Then he felt the tiller! There you go!” The keel is already sucked… Hello, hello! Garranchitos to me by the bow, eh? Take that blow through the middle… and those couple of shower sprays… Carape with the recalcada!… A board… That’s already walking… and taking on water too… Well, a little more tiller now… to try… just to try!… Here comes the second one. _Stop_. Go ahead and count, Nieves: two boards… –One and a half,– Nieves responded immediately.– Up to three… –Don’t be tempting! Let’s leave it at two, and believe me that’s enough. –Are you afraid, Leto? –You should see! –Well, it seems so. –Look at the dolphins again… You can reach them with the hand. Will they be capable of pretending, those scoundrels? Well, seeing how they approach and boast… The seagulls… Look at that cloud of them scratching their wings in the sea: there’s a school of sardines there… “What you want,” said Nieves, shifting her steady gaze from the dolphins and the seagulls to Leto, “is to distract me from the point we were discussing; but it won’t do… The three boards, Leto!” Leto began to believe that there was no way to resist her or deceive her… “Well, the three boards,” he said; “but be very careful, Nieves!” And he prepared to please her, starting by forgetting her so as to be nothing more than an intelligent ship. “We must begin again,” he said to himself; and for this, it would have been better to have done it at the first pull, because the breeze is getting stronger and the trickery is growing… The keel… by the life of the snort!… This time, the well is going to be a footbath… More tiller… Phew!… how sensitive and how frisky the damned man is today! As soon as you touch his nerves, he can’t fit in the sea… A board… and a garrancho. Later we’ll talk about these sprays, friend Cornias… Good nap! Thank goodness we hit it softly… The arrival now… Two boards, and without a ram on board… and what a walk, carape! Let the greyhounds not even the dolphins catch us… Well, take more, since you like it… like that! You won’t have to dismast for it or for anything else besides… And yet it seems that the rigging is in pain, from how it groans and sways and leans… Oh, carape! This has its intoxication like wine… If I could only let myself be carried away by it!… But, anyway, even the three boards we owe… one more is missing… Take more, drink more, you can do more! Oh, you can!… We must repeat the arrival with greater energy… Here it goes!… Ah, damn it, I got carried away!… The boat came out like an exhalation, raising flames from the water; great jets of it leaped aboard; a horrifying scream was heard, and Nieves disappeared among the foam that the yacht stirred up on the submerged side. “Divine God!” Leto then cried in a shriek that did not seem to come from a human voice. “Turn around, Cornias!” And he threw himself into the sea after Nieves. Chapter 18. Under the hatch. I think we’re going to faint, Cornias… It was to be expected… The horror, the cold… Woe to her… woe to me… woe to us all, if this happens before you come to pick us up! I couldn’t stand it any longer… I lacked words to encourage her; strength to support her… and strength to support myself. What a situation, Cornias! What a terrible quarter of an hour! Walk faster… Hold steady… Here, on this bench… Good Lord! I think I’m dreaming!… Roll up the mattress at that corner so it can serve as a pillow… Like that… Now it would be good to get her to act; but how?… With what do we have; but how? I say again … Uncover that other bench and take out all the clothes in the drawer… Up in the air!… Me, to the liquor closet… God’s inspiration it was to keep them here!… And the damned glass window is holding up!… Well, for the shortest time… what are the cuffs for?… Let this glass turn to dust, and the whole closet if necessary… This Jamaican rum is most appropriate… A glass too… Keep this balance sheet on the table… but first give me one of those towels to dry my hands, which are dripping with water… What will happen to this jacket, which is a sponge?… Away with it!… Go pour some rum into the glass… Come on now… But wait until I dry her face first… God of God! That I cannot do here what is most necessary… almost indispensable!… loosen these soaked clothes… take them off her. If it were given to me to see and not see; maneuver with your eyes closed!… The glass immediately… Rum on your temples… on your nostrils… between your lips… But with that waist so constricted your lungs can’t function!… I can see perfectly well where the opening in the breastplate is… but wouldn’t it be a desecration to put your hands there?… Wouldn’t they fall off my wrists?… And something like that must be done, and without delay… From behind, if anything… just right: it comes to the same thing… Your knife, Cornias… Help me turn her upside down… God give me one enough!… Just in case, the edge up… The dress material is already cut… Now the braids of the corset… and these belts… This is an easier job… Bring that raincoat and lay it over her and my hands, which have no eyes… Like this… Her torso is now free of its bonds… now let’s
turn her on her side… See how she breathes with less difficulty?… More rum at once… in the air, Cornias! I feel it on my lips… Hold the glass for a moment while I raise her… Like this… Nieves!… Nieves!… Give me the glass. Nieves!… a sip of this drink to warm you up… Let’s see, little by little… Here it goes… Savor it, Cornias, savor it… and half open your eyes! Bless God!… Another sip, Nieves, until you’ve drained the glass, even if it disgusts you: it’s the essence of life… Aha!… Prepare another, Cornias, just in case… Look, man, you still have some of the flowers you pinned this morning on your chest !… They’re about to fall off… Here. Don’t throw them away: keep them in that open cupboard… in case he asks about them… Are you feeling better, Nieves? Would you like another bit of the same drink to finish off your recovery?… Look, Cornias, what a piece of luck in the middle of everything! He’s coming back to himself… he’s back to his senses… Bless God! Modesty, the most refined sentiment in a woman’s nature, was the first thing that vibrated in Nieves’s when she regained control of her reason. She noticed the looseness of her dress, looked at herself, saw its looseness, noticed the raincoat that covered her shoulders, and with an anguished look, she asked Leto the reason for it. “I tore it,” the waiter replied, as blushing as the questioner, “because it was necessary to open it somewhere so you could breathe freely… and I chose that back side because I looked less… well, less… and even that was done, when I got to the corset, under the raincoat that you haven’t taken off since. Is that true, Cornias? ” Cornias said yes; and Nieves lowered her head, shuddered, and wrapped the raincoat around herself. She was pale as a lily, almost bruised; Water trickled down her hair and clothes, and there was a veritable pool on the floor of the chamber; for Leto, for his part, was an inexhaustible sponge, from head to toe. “Now, Nieves,” he said almost imperatively, but the compassion and interest he felt were evident in his voice and look , “you are going to do, without a moment’s delay, what should have been done elsewhere from the little I did… because I was not allowed to do more: you are soaked with water, you are cold; and that is not healthy: you must take off those clothes… all your clothes! Dry yourself well, rub yourself if necessary, and cover yourself again: I have no clothes to offer you, nor are they to be found in these solitudes at any price.” “But I have something dry, clean, and quite suitable for you to wrap yourself in and keep warm… Look, one… two… three large terry cloth sheets… two towels… a pair of brand-new slippers, a bit too big; but where there’s room for more, there’s room for less… Another raincoat… Do you remember the afternoon I showed you these garments when you were visiting this room? I could hardly have imagined then the fate that was in store for you today! In the midst of everything, thank God, less is nothing… So get to it, Nieves… and first take two more sips of rum to restore yourself a little more… I wouldn’t insist, because I know you hate this liquor, if you had someone to help you with the task you are about to embark on; But unfortunately, you have to manage on your own, and you need to gather your strength… Come on, another sip… and you, Cornias, ready to mop these floors!… Look carefully, Nieves: I’ve put the sheets, towels and slippers on the table so you can have them more easily at hand… There’s the waterproof hood; and the bottle of rum for the use I indicated before and highly recommend, in this cupboard… Then you move to that other bench that’s dry, and lie down for a while… For your greater peace of mind, I’m going to draw the curtains over the skylights… No human eyes on the yacht are capable of such a daring act; but you’re under no obligation to believe it… You see? Once the curtains are drawn, there’s plenty of light left for what you have to do… Oh! In case you decide to knock while you’re alone in here: this entrance door has a sliding panel: observe how it opens and closes… You can ask for whatever you need through here… Ready, Cornias, time is running out!… So, are we happy, Nieves? Do you have the energy? Yes? Well, let’s get on with it without delay . And cheer up! God pushes, but He doesn’t drown. Nieves, who had been staring fixedly at Leto, not missing a word, a movement, or a gesture of the obliging young man as he bustled back and forth, when she had him before her, standing firm and silent, demanding an answer from her, gave it to him in a very sad but very sweet smile. Then she put both hands to her forehead and shuddered again, exclaiming: “My God, what thoughts suddenly come to me, so dark, so strange!… What shocks, what visions!… I’m like in a horrible nightmare… My poor father, so calm and careless in Peleches; I, without him knowing it, here now, in this position, in this sinkhole… and just a moment ago… Eternal God!… Leto… I’m alive by a miracle… I must have drowned today. ” “No, madam,” Leto responded very formally. “No?” Well, if it weren’t for you first, and then for Cornias’s skill … confessed by yourself when you saw him approaching… “Cornias has done his duty, as I have done mine; but you couldn’t drown in any way… ” “Why?” “Because… because no: because for you to drown, I would have had to drown first, and then the yacht with Cornias inside, and then the fish in the sea, and the sea itself in its very bowels, and even the entire universe!… because there are things that cannot happen or be conceived, and that’s why they don’t happen… And for the love of God! Spread those sad thoughts now, as I spread mine… for they are very sad too, and very mortifying and very dark, and devote yourself without losing a minute to doing what I have recommended; because there’s no waiting.” We’ll have plenty of time later to talk about this… and for me to hand myself over to the Civil Guard so they can take me, tied up side by side, to jail, and then garrote me in the town square of Villavieja. “You, Leto? ” “Me, yes; because, in all fairness, the sea should have swallowed me up as soon as I placed you in Cornias’s arms. ” “But are you joking or serious?” asked Nieves, saddened by Leto’s almost ferocious tone and gesture. “Well, haven’t you realized it was a joke to distract you from your visions?” he responded, feigning a laugh in a rude manner, embarrassed by her imprudent sincerity. “What I’m telling you again, in all seriousness, is that you urgently need to take off all those wet clothes. ” “And yours?” Nieves said to him, seeing how the water was trickling down his legs. “Are they wet clothes? ” “Mine,” Leto replied, “they won’t hurt where they are now: salt water and I are old and good friends… Besides, they’re almost dry now and will finish drying in the open air, where I’m going to put them immediately with your permission. We’re going to be soaked, and I expect to reach the port in three-quarters of an hour; let’s take another one to the dock: just the right hour from here… Keep that in mind for your toilette… and goodbye.” With that, he left the room, closed the door, and called to Cornias, who was already waiting for him, the maneuver cleared up and his blood still frozen in his veins with the memory of the frightful incident that would never be erased from his mind. memory every day of his life. The sails were hoisted, the Flash set course for the port, and its pilot fell, not into his usual intoxicating obsession in such cases, but into the cruel clutches of his bitter thoughts. The yacht flew , loaded with canvas, knocking down sea lions and sheep, leaping like a roe deer from crest to crest and from breast to breast, surrounded by boiling foam, playful, proud… And why so much pride and so much speed? To the torture of the poor lad, who saw upon arrival at the port a fall into an abyss with no way out for him… Whichever way you looked at the case, it always turned out to be the same criminal, the same person responsible: he, and no one else but him, was weak in indulging Nieves, without her father’s consent, in a whim as serious, as grave, as going out to sea secretly and with time measured; He was a fool, a madman, acting in vain in this, without sufficiently considering the risks to the treasure he carried at his side; he was irrational, a barbarian, culminating his foolishness with the bestiality that produced the horrific accident… He hadn’t said it in jest, no: he deserved to be handed over by the Civil Guard to the courts of justice, and then garroted in the public square, and execrated until the end of time in the memory of Don Alejandro Bermúdez and all his descendants. And if Don Alejandro Bermúdez and human justice didn’t consider it so, neither one nor the other had common sense or any idea of ​​what was just and unjust… Nieves was alive! So what if she lived by a miracle, as the unfortunate woman had so rightly said? Her fall had been fatal, given the speed at which the ship was going; and on that account he had thrown himself into the sea… If the miracle happened afterward, fine; And if nothing was done… what right did he have to live while she perished, nor why would he want life even if it were mercifully left to him? This was not rebelling against the laws of God; it was sacrificing herself to a duty of charity, conscience, honor, and justice. He had put her in that predicament; for whoever did it must pay for it. This was the jurisprudence of all codes and of all times, and of all honorable men… Do you compromise another’s life? Well, answer with your own. What less? This between lives of equal value. But what comparison could there be between Nieves’s life and Leto’s life? Nieves’s life! He could still conceive, with difficulty, that through the work of an illness of those that God sends, little by little and without pain or suffering, that life had come to be extinguished in the repose of her bed, in the shelter of her home, and among the consolations of all those who loved her; but in that other way, unexpected, sudden, in the depths of the sea, amid horrors and terrors… and because of him, because of Leto’s imprudence, his savagery!… As I said: even after saving Nieves, his debt remained unpaid; and his debt was his life; and this debt should have been collected by the sea as soon as it was no longer needed to save the life of its poor victim… All this was hard, bitter, terrible to think about; but what about the other thing, what was about to happen, what was almost in his hands and sometimes made him steer his yacht in the wrong direction? When he reached the port, and the first word had to be spoken, the first news given, the first explanations, even if for the moment the truth that would eventually be known was somewhat disguised?… Don Alejandro, his servants and friends… the entire town, Nieves herself, after calmly meditating on what had happened… each in his own way, everyone and everything about him!… Well deserved, yes, well deserved! But where were the courage and the strength necessary to resist it? Even the sea was fought and sometimes won; but against the just indignation of a knight, against the anger of his friends, against the sharpness of the wicked and against her hatred… Oh, against this above all!… Here there was no room for even a hypothesis. Before such a case came to pass, God would annihilate him a thousand times, or punish him with thirst and death. Blindness and all the misfortunes of Job: he was content with everything except being the object of the hatred of that creature who seemed superhuman to him. After Leto had climbed so high on the scale of darkness, what happened to him happened to all exalted spirits moved by the same apprehensions: unable to get past the worst of it and not having the patience to stay still where he was, he began to descend very slowly, in order to change his position; and in this way, taking a small slice out of this supposition, and a pinch out of the other, and turning the other case around, he began to find the burden more bearable and the general picture in a less disconsolate light. To further relieve his grief, as he approached the harbor, he suddenly found Nieves’s small face leaning out from behind the paneled door of the cabin, looking at him very smiling, with a flushed rosette on each cheek and a certain veil of fatigue in her eyes… The apprehensive youth’s whole soul swelled within him. Those clear, pure clouds were no sign of the storm he feared… “You are now obeyed,” he said, “in every way and for every reason. If you could see how well I feel now! I even feel warm, and I’ve gained strength… But I smell of rum, and I stink… The worst thing is that I can’t manage as I please, because I’m like a baby: wrapped in wrappings. And besides, the hood is all over me.” Leto lowered his head slightly and tightened his eyelids and jaw, as if trying to expel from his brain some idea, some image that, against his will, insisted on nesting there. “I knew very well,” he said, just to say something, “that the remedy was infallible; above all, if applied in time… And even if I were to deprive myself of the pleasure of seeing you there so recovered, wouldn’t you be better off resting on the cushion that hasn’t gotten wet? ” “I’ve already done so for a little while,” Nieves replied, “but I got up to ask you something that’s begun to worry me quite a bit… Since I haven’t had the sense to do anything until now… First of all, which way are we going now?” ” Entering the port.” “And when we get to the dock, how do I get out of here, Leto? Because I won’t have to leave in my diapers. Have you thought about this too?” “I’ve thought about that too,” Leto replied, swallowing back the bitterness produced by the memory of that incident, which was the first station of the Calvary he had been imagining. ” As soon as we reach the dock, Cornias will fly to Peleches in search of the clothes you need… So as not to alarm anyone, they will say that you got wet, not what happened… ” “That seems very good to me, and I had thought of something like that to get out of the initial predicament. Afterwards, God will say… isn’t that right, Leto? ” “That’s right,” he responded, somewhat glum again. “Well, I believe,” Nieves said, noticing, “that we are wrong to hurry , at least after having emerged triumphant from the most… God, who heard me then, will not be deaf to me now… for a small thing; because after what has happened, everything seems small to me, now, Leto… very small!… even Papa’s anger and reprimands… Virgin Mary!” I see myself here safe and sound, talking to you, alive and well too, and it seems unbelievable… How horrible it was, Leto, how frightening! In that immense solitude!… what a green abyss, so deep… so bitter!… Bitter, very bitter, those memories that Leto wanted to erase from his memory also seemed to Leto , and that is why he asked Nieves, even out of charity, to talk about more cheerful things. “I can’t!” Nieves responded with a naiveté and a vigor so characteristic of hers that they brooked no reply. “I am full, swollen with those memories, as is natural that I should be, Leto… because those things don’t happen every day, God forbid that they should happen to anyone again! They mortify me greatly, silently in there, and I find relief communicating them with you… and you want me to keep quiet!… Well, charity for charity, Leto: I too am a daughter of God… Do I seem selfish to you? Am I bothering you?” Am I tiring you? Are you going to get angry with me? Could there be such flattery? Leto get angry over such a trifle, when he could do it!… Had she asked him to drink gall to take away a grief, and he would drink gall so happily, and the embers melted away. He didn’t dare say it so clearly; but since he felt it, he said something that sounded like it and it earned him the gift of a look that was worth another dive. Nieves immediately said, the expression of terror returning to her eyes : “I remember everything, Leto, as if it were happening to me now: how foolishly I took my hands off the back of the chair to bring them to my face, when I felt the jet of water on it; the speed with which I immediately fell, and the horrifying impression I felt when I realized I had fallen into the sea; what I thought then and what I prayed; the terrifying despair of having nothing to hold on to and nowhere to step… Oh, Leto! If you delay two more seconds, you’ll never find me… I was sinking, sinking, writhing in despair… how horrible! When I saw myself seized and suspended by you, it seemed to me that I was resurrected… Then began the danger of both of us drowning due to my lack of serenity to follow the advice you gave me… Determined to cling to you, as if we were both standing firmly on a rock… But who can be serene among those horrors, Virgin Mary! After that it was something else: by dint of your pleading and even your scolding, I finally managed to position myself better and leave you more free and unencumbered… meanwhile, the yacht moving away, and you explaining to me why you were doing it… then all your words of encouragement , until the ship returned for us… if it returned, Leto, if it returned in time! Because, despite your words, I knew only too well what was happening to you: human forces are not made of iron; and that frightful situation did not offer much longer to wait… I remember your joy when you saw the yacht facing us; your fears that Cornias might not think of certain precautions, and that the ship, due to too much speed, might pass by us without being able to pick us up; and his enthusiasm when we saw the sails fall one by one, the boat left bare, and the brave Cornias standing, tiller in hand, leading her towards us until she was at our side, docile and tame, and I think even smiling… He didn’t seem like a ship, but a faithful dog in search of his master. Should I not remember it, Leto? Well, it’s to be forgotten for the rest of my life, however long it may be?… Like what you said as soon as the yacht reached us, and poor Cornias, pale as death, threw himself onto the helm with his arms outstretched… Do you remember, Leto? Leto, with his forehead resting on his left hand and his elbow on his knee, didn’t answer Nieves a word. He was stunned, fascinated, perhaps by the memories evoked by the story; perhaps by the moving accent and the irresistible expression in the narrator’s eyes. Who, after gazing at him with affectionate eagerness for a few moments, added: “Well, I do: ‘Her, Cornias; her alone!’ I was in bad shape then, very bad!… I couldn’t have been worse; but I would have dared to swear that you were wasting the last of your strength putting me in Cornias’s hands… Oh, Leto! I believed that on certain occasions in life, men were excused from being gallant with ladies; but, as it turns out, the rule has exceptions; and one of them has fallen to me today, by my good fortune… And you want me to banish all these recollections, or to hold on to them and keep quiet!… And by the way,” she added, observing the profound emotion of the original young man she had to see then, disheveled, his body and shirtsleeves still not quite dry, and his trousers still more than damp, “where is Cornias?… I would like to see him.” As the yacht continued sailing astern and there was no need to touch the maneuver, Cornias was sitting at the bow on the edge of the hatch roof, with his arms crossed on his chest, his head slightly drooping, pale color, and his eyes completely white; because all his He looked then inward, where the terrible images of the recent events in which he had played such an important role boiled over in him. He answered Leto’s energetic call, and Leto said to him: “The young lady wishes to speak to you: come down.” And he went down to the bottom of the well. There he raised his head and straightened his gaze as much as he could towards the little window in the door; and the sweet and melancholy expression of Nieves’s little face, embedded in the hollow, and the affectionate interest with which she looked at him, at the tiny Cornias, produced such an effect on him that he began to puff out his cheeks and threaten to sob; at which Nieves also became somewhat moved, and neither of them uttered a word. Observed by Leto and wanting to end the scene that had begun with such difficulty, under the pretext that the yacht was near the dock, he asked Nieves’s permission to send Cornias to his place; and she said in conclusion: “You’ll talk about that another time.” Cornias left and Nieves asked Leto: “Are we that close now?” ” We’ll be there in five minutes… ” “Oh, my God!” exclaimed Nieves, turning somewhat pale, ” I’m feeling all over the place now!… Could it be fear? ” “I’m in for a treat,” replied the other, shivering inside. “Well, cheer up,” she replied, her voice somewhat uncertain, “and let’s think of the most so as not to fear the least. I told you before, too. And now I’m going back to my hiding place until I can come out of it dressed as an adult… Oh!… I almost forgot,” she added after moving her little face away from the window, “I saw some flowers in the closet that were just like the ones I was wearing on my chest this morning, if they aren’t the same ones… ” “They are,” replied Leto, red-faced, as if he’d been accused of stealing a bread roll. “So how are they there?” asked Nieves, enjoying Leto’s embarrassment. “Because they were falling out of your chest when we laid you unconscious on the bench… and I told Cornias, after carefully gathering them up, to put them away… in case you asked about them. ” “Thank you very much, Leto, although they’re no longer of use to me. You can throw them away, if you like. ” “Not that!” answered Leto without hesitation, remembering the incident at Miradorio. “They’re fine where they are, since you don’t want them. ” “And wouldn’t they be better,” asked Nieves, with a little smile that spoke for itself, “somewhere else… for example, with a certain red carnation, in the same book, as a note of two important dates?… Anyway, to your liking… and so long…” and he turned the tablet aside. “Just what I was thinking!” exclaimed Leto to himself. Two dates: the beginning and the end; because this is already the end… “Cornias!” he suddenly shouted. “Haul in!” Cornias lowered the sloop’s excess tackle; and thus it continued gliding until it tied up against the timbers of the pier, with the same precision as if he were keeping compasses measuring the forces and distance. Chapter 19. In the town. Two fishermen who were busy in a boat near the pier saw the arrival of the Flash and the state Leto was in; how Cornias immediately fled toward Peleches; how Don Adrián’s son, upset and angry in appearance, didn’t know what he was doing and, at times, spoke a few words to someone who was locked in the cabin; how Cornias later returned at full speed, with a large bundle in his arms and accompanied by “the Gypsy of Peleches,” as the people of Villavieja called Catana; how Cornias handed the package to the Andalusian woman while they were both on the yacht; how the Andalusian woman and the package went into the cabin; how Cornias climbed back onto the dock and hurried back to the town; how he was not a quarter of an hour away with another bundle, which he placed in Leto’s hands; how, after another quarter of an hour, Mademoiselle de Peleches, very elegant, and Catana with another dripping package, came out of the cabin; how, after the young lady and Leto shook hands very affectionately and exchanged A few words, Cornias picked up the dripping bundle, and, throwing it over his shoulder, left the yacht with the two women; how Leto from below and the young lady from the dock, once again exchanged farewells with their hands, words, and eyes; how the three disembarked went by way of the Miradorio, and Leto locked himself in the cabin with his corresponding bundle, only to emerge, a good while later, changed from head to toe and dressed “as a Christian”; how he bustled around on the yacht… and how, finally, Cornias reappeared on the dock, sweating a kilo, with no trace of black in his eyes anymore, and went down to the yacht, and stayed there, and Leto went home… with a small bunch of herbs and flowers that were shabby in his hand, but which must have had some merit, considering the care with which he put them in his pocket. All these things, along with the frightened expressions they noticed on the young lady, the gypsy woman, and Cornias, and the venomous expression on Don Adrián’s son, so cheerful in his own right, strained the fishermen’s curiosity to an unbearable degree. Therefore, as soon as Leto was out of sight, they were already at the side of the sloop, harassing Cornias with questions. Cornias was naturally frugal with his words, and on that occasion he was even petty; but since his fright was still very evident, and what the fishermen had seen wasn’t seen all the time on a yacht like this one, returning from a trip at sea, the pettiness of their answers aggravated the situation. Cornias soon realized this; and to get out of the situation honestly, he squandered a little more, shuffling reluctantly , in a low voice, and sideways, without neglecting his task: “a round turn,” “a lot of trickery,” “bumps like sand,” and “spraying them up to the face.” They retorted, asking how the others could have been soaked and he left so gaunt as he was. To this, seeing himself caught in the middle, he replied that there was no need for anything else, and that it was enough for how little it had cost them and how little it mattered to them. He had given the same explanation to Don Adrian, on Leto’s orders, when he asked him for clothes to change into; but Don Adrian believed him at once, and did nothing more than lament the situation, give Cornias the gear he asked for, and pray to God in his heart that similar things would not happen when Miss Peleches was on the sloop, about whom Leto’s messenger had said nothing to the apothecary. Meanwhile, the fishermen, with more information at hand and more experience than Don Adrian in ailments of that kind, and malicious by nature, forged the incident to their liking. And taking it for granted, they told her ten minutes later, with minute details, in Chispas’s tavern , in front of several people, among them Don Eusebio Codillo’s maid, who was going to get the daily half-azumbre of claret that was drunk in the house by the family of six. This happened at twelve-thirty, give or take a few minutes: at a quarter to one, it was known at the Notaries’ house that they already had, through Maravillas, knowledge of Nieves’s departure to sea, alone with the apothecary’s son, that the two of them, while rowing the sloop, had fallen into the water together, from where they got out with great difficulty; that she had come naked in the cabin, and he half- dressed a little further out… That, upon arriving at the dock; because before then, God knows where she would come from. Rufita González learned more than this at one o’clock sharp. She learned that, having emerged unconscious from the sea, Nieves had had to be stripped and rubbed all over to bring her back to her senses, and then they had to rub her with a piece of dirty esparto grass, as there was no other recourse available . And what Rufita said to the three Indianas, drooling with indignation: “I don’t feel sorry for her, to be honest, nor for the kinship that unites us, nor am I surprised; because, with the way the damned bitch lived , that’s what she was bound to end up in… or something worse, which could also have happened… who knows! Oh, I had a good nose when I scorned her petting! “You don’t let yourself be seen, Rufita…” that you come here often… I miss you a lot… that between family people there should be a lot of unity and a lot of affection… come to eat… come to refresh… don’t be ungrateful or proud… “You shameless, mischievous lizard of the devil! As if the reasons I had to despise her were for a game!… But the one I feel scandalized for is my poor first cousin, Nachito: so young, so handsome, such a gentleman and so powerful; because it puts him in _redicicle_, after the rumors that she and her father have started, about an arranged marriage between the two cousins. It was for her, the scandalous woman! That’s what my uncle Cesáreo’s son is thinking! My poor cousin’s sights must go down other, more decent and honorable paths, God willing… And if not, just wait… But they are making people believe something else to see if it sticks… If it does n’t! Let her carry it, let her carry it with the lad from the pharmacy… and thank goodness the lazybones don’t think less of it, because she has plenty of it, Ha, ha, ha, haaa! At the Campada, the same story was told, with new illustrations, at two o’clock; and all the Carreños fell upon it like a herd of pigs upon a sack of potatoes: with clean bites amid grunts of pleasure. The Vélez family, who found out at two-thirty, took it in a very different tone. Don Gonzalo looked at Juanita with a face of compassionate contempt; Juanita, in the gesture of a triumphant prophetess, looked at her brother Manrique; and Manrique, who was looking at the floor, as usual, and swinging one leg crossed over the other, lowered his head a little more and shifted his gaze two cracks toward the armchair… Immediately Juanita read aloud from an Asmodeo magazine, as if to disinfect the house and sweeten the palates; and the name of the Bermúdezes was not mentioned there again, let alone the unprecedented event that at that moment was running from mouth to mouth throughout Villavieja. Don Claudio Fuertes caught him at the Casino, very subdued and confused, because in front of him no one dared to say everything they knew. But since it was evident that something had happened, he became alarmed and ran to the pharmacy to find out the truth. By then Don Adrián already knew something more than Cornias had told him: he knew that Nieves was also on the yacht, and that he had also gotten wet; And he knew this because Leto had thought it necessary to tell him to justify his invincible displeasure, and out of fear that his father might learn the whole truth through some other means and believe it. The poor apothecary was overcome with grief. “There was nothing unusual about the case in itself, isolated, concrete, and separate, that’s what it is”; but considering that Nieves had gone out to sea that day for the first time, and without his father’s permission or knowledge, what must his kind and respectable friend Señor Don Alejandro Bermúdez Peleches have been thinking and feeling at that hour, if he knew everything? This is how the placid Don Adrián was hurting in this regard then; and since Leto was also complaining about the same thing, and neither of them had the serenity to present themselves at Peleches with such fears on their souls, Fuertes rebuked them for their cowardice and gave them reasons that compelled them to do the opposite: if Don Alejandro knew, then Leto would have excused Nieves and excused himself honestly; If he knew and didn’t give it any importance, so that he would see that they didn’t give it any importance either; and if he knew nothing, so much the better for everyone. He would go up to Peleches that same afternoon at the usual time, as if nothing had happened, and he hoped that they would do the same: that they wouldn’t miss the evening gathering. He also thought it necessary to inform and warn Don Alejandro’s friends, so that they wouldn’t assume they knew about the incident with him because they were still unaware of it, and that the same would be done with the people who were arriving at the pharmacy, as some had already arrived, demanding reliable information about what was being spread around the town. With the three of them in agreement on this point and the others discussed there, Don Claudio left the pharmacy to return to the Casino. Near him, Leto caught up with him and said: “What you just learned at the pharmacy is not even a shadow of the truth; and since I want you to know it, because it seems to me that you must know it, and we can’t talk privately here, take me to your house if you have a quarter of an hour available.” Don Claudio’s house being just a stone’s throw away, and Leto’s words having caused him great concern, they arrived there in an instant and locked themselves in the closet that served as the retired commander’s office and bedroom. “Since what you heard at the Casino,” Leto began in a low voice, feeling horrified, “and what will be spreading throughout the town at this time, is nothing more than conjecture about what two boatmen saw on the yacht docked at the pier, and a few words that Cornias had to say to them to stave off their hunger, I need, for the relief and ease of my conscience, to declare the whole truth to a friend as honorable and discreet as yourself. My father knows nothing more than what I have chosen for him to know, and who can guess how far he will take his inventions? And he recounted the event in the most minute detail. Don Claudio listened, overwhelmed, and could not help but praise, with the heart of an old soldier, Leto’s generous nature. “Pay no attention,” the latter replied, clearly mortified by the praise, “to that detail of the painting; because I swear, as a man of integrity, that it would not have come to light if I could have explained Nieves’s rescue without it… ” “But , dear God,” Fuertes said to free him from the dark despondency in which he saw him plunged, “how can you ignore that detail if, in the situation you find yourself in and for the case you fear, it is the whole point? ” “The whole point?” “The whole point, Leto, or I don’t know what I’m dealing with.” If, first, through excessive condescension, and then through your carelessness , Nieves was nearly killed, and you saved her at the risk of your own life, what the hell do you owe Señor Don Alejandro, or the morning star either? Now, let the lesson serve as a warning and let your little sermon with horrors serve to rectify his future conduct, that’s a different matter, and it would even seem quite appropriate to me; but what does this take away from you or add to it? Leto, head bowed, stroked his beard, looked at the ground without seeing what was before his eyes, and showed no signs of being convinced. Fuertes went back to pounding on the same anvil, and nothing: Leto without breathing. At last he straightened up and said: “What you’ve come up with is something; but not all, not even half ; and, stretching it a little, nothing. ” “Nothing?” “Look here, Señor Don Claudio: I want to assume that Don Alejandro Bermúdez, upon finding out about everything, not only excuses and forgives me, but also seats me at his table; that Nieves is as satisfied and calm as if nothing had happened to her, and that I don’t mind the disrespectful comments, the fables, and the gossip of people in the least… Do you want more?” Well, with all that, the question, for me, remained where it is now. “What is it you want then? What is it you want? ” “What I want,” Leto responded, his eyes wide open and his hair standing on end, “is for you to consider that the daughter of Don Alejandro Bermúdez, entrusted to my care in a small boat I was steering, almost perished through my imprudence… she must have drowned… Can you consider this?” Well, imagine now that that creature had drowned this morning, as he must have drowned, Don Claudio, as he must have drowned, I repeat it to you again… and put yourself in my place for a moment… “Well,” said Don Claudio, frowning and nervously stroking his gray mustache, “things being as they are, it’s true that your situation upon returning to Villavieja was not an enviable one. ” “What a return!” exclaimed Leto with the most candid naturalness. “No there would be such a return; because Nieves would not have perished without me, who was supporting her, perishing first… But she, she, Don Claudio, why should she perish like this? This is the tremendous case; the rest are accessories that have no other importance than that which they reflect on him. And you want me not to think about it… and not to be horrified by thinking about it? Well, suppose , finally, that Don Alejandro finds out about the event. Is it not natural that this good gentleman should get into the same suppositions that I have just gotten into? Is it not natural that, immersed in them, he should also be horrified? And is it not equally natural that my flesh should tremble, for fear of those very justifiable horrors of Señor de Bermúdez? Call me nervous, childish, and visionary, as you called me in the pharmacy for much less than what you know now… This nail could be pulled out tomorrow or another day, or I will get used to it; but, for now, it’s a gift to the toughest of men; let’s see how he handles the wound. Don Claudio Fuertes, who had continued stroking his mustache, his head slightly bowed and his eyes very still, as soon as Leto finished speaking, put his hands in his trouser pockets and walked around half a dozen times mechanically, aimlessly, looking at the tips of his toes. Suddenly he stopped, faced Leto, and gently scratching his head with two fingers, spoke to him thus: “Either I’m not an old dog, or I’ve smelled the quality of that nail, let alone the depth of the wound it’s opened in you. It’s natural that it hurts, natural that you complain; but since it hurts in several places, because the nail is long and pierces many sensitive areas, you confuse the pains; And sometimes, believing you’re complaining about your spleen, it turns out, to the listener, that what hurts is your liver… I don’t care about these mistakes, which don’t even surprise me, because, as I’ve said, I’m an old dog and we’ve been together for two months; but it won’t be the same for all of them; and for the sake of what might happen, I advise you to bite the bullet as soon as possible… and especially in Peleches. The apothecary’s son’s color changed when he heard this, as a result of a fluttering and two somersaults from _something_ he felt deep in his chest; he protested vigorously about the _simplicity_ of his grief, and begged Don Claudio to explain himself more clearly, so that he could fully understand him and disabuse him of his deception; But the commander played dumb, and with two pats on the back and another cordial praise of his courageous outburst, ended the interview, bidding farewell to Leto “until tonight” and strongly recommending that he not miss it. Chapter 20. In Peleches. Just before lunchtime, Don Alejandro Bermúdez made a pile of the letters he had written all morning without raising his head; he rubbed his hands together in great satisfaction, like someone who relieves his conscience of a great weight; he kicked a few times to loosen the stiffness while he put his gold spectacles back in their case, and left the office for the living room; precisely at the moment that Nieves entered it to go to hers, in her country dress, somewhat labored with breath, and Don Alejandro could have sworn that her face was a little disfigured and her hair disheveled, as could be seen under the brim of her hat, very droopy over her eyes… “Come back!” said Bermúdez, stopping in front of her, “had you gone out again? ” “Come back?” repeated Nieves, very embarrassed. “Yes… no… I’ll come now, Papa. ” “Where from, daughter? ” “Well, from walking… ” “Since I left you?” “Since you left me. Completely. ” “You’re a pain with the walk! How far have you come?” –Up to… as far as always… only, you see, I stayed on the bench where you left me at the Glorieta, reading and reading like a fool, and then I went down very slowly to the Miradorio… Seeing myself there already, as the morning was so beautiful, I extended the walk until near the dock; but when I was most careless, I heard the clock of the Collegiate Church, I start counting, my God! and I count twelve. Then I ran down the hill; and you see me somewhat agitated there. Did I keep you waiting, Papa?… “No, my child; wait, precisely wait… no. ” While Bermúdez was answering like this, with a look and gesture of surprise, Nieves, restless and nervous, looked at him… looked at him… as if coveting something she didn’t dare ask of him. “Will you let me give you a kiss?” she finally asked him. And without waiting for an answer, with her eyes full of tears and almost crying, she threw herself at her father. “But, my child,” he said, finding it difficult to break away from her, “why are you going to such extremes now? What’s the matter with you? ” “Nothing, Papa,” Nieves replied, controlling her emotion; “but it’s never happened to me before… coming alone so late, and I must have been careful with you… You’ll forgive me, won’t you?” “I haven’t left my office all morning, dear soul, and I didn’t even expect you to be out of the house!… What care or what?… Now I know because you tell me… ” “Well, so much the better then,” said Nieves, trying to make a joke of it. “Anyway, you’ll forgive me for this little sin, won’t you? ” “Naturally,” replied Bermúdez, still unable to shake off his bewilderment or stop looking her up and down. “But, woman,” he added after a brief pause, “are you saying you haven’t been back home since we parted at the Glorieta? ” “Yes.”
“Well, I could swear I’d left you there dressed in wafer-colored clothes , and now you’re dressed in white with blue stripes.” Here Nieves had to use all the strength of her wit and her willpower to feign a laugh in order to get out of the embarrassment her father’s remark had placed her in. “Are you in your right mind?” he exclaimed after laughing quite well. “I believe I am!” replied her father, beginning to doubt. “And why shouldn’t I be? ” “Because what you’re talking about with the dress, it was yesterday. ” “Yesterday? ” “Yesterday, yes… When I assure you!” Don Alejandro concluded by shrugging his shoulders. “Well… if you assure me!” And he dared not say more. At the table, Nieves, in her father’s opinion, was not her usual self either . She ate very little and was distracted at every step. Don Alejandro didn’t take his eyes off her. “Bangs!” he thought incessantly. “There’s something extraordinary about that face: that look isn’t hers, nor that color, nor that startled expression, nor… nor is that dress the one she was wearing this morning walking with me, right! despite whoever says so… Even her hair, bangs!” If you push me a little, I already find something that surprises me: he seems more compacted and darker… Catana also caught her attention a lot. I could swear that certain suspicious glances passed between them from time to time… Besides, the woman from Ronda stayed in the dining room as little as possible, always avoiding meeting her master’s gaze. He pestered Nieves with questions about a multitude of far-fetched things, and the answers were always relevant; but… but that tone of voice, that sometimes inappropriate laughter, or that marble-like seriousness when laughter was indicated… Nothing seemed natural; everything, everything was catchy and contrived there… Nieves had never been like that. The conversation after dinner was shorter than usual. It seemed to the father that his daughter was eager to get up, and he got up to please her. “I’m going to have a little early siesta today,” he said apologetically, “because with getting up early and doing this morning’s homework, I’m falling asleep.” As soon as Nieves left the dining room, he called Catana with a sign; and taking her to the most hidden corner, he asked her in a low voice: “What’s the girl doing today?” The woman from Ronda received the question like the devil receiving a sprinkle of holy water, and answered, lowering her head: “Nothing, sir… ” “I say she’s got something!” the meek Bermúdez affirmed with unusual energy . “You know it for me, you know more than I do.” And the woman from Ronda didn’t show any more light, nor did she even once show her face, Don Alejandro was searching for her with great determination with every question he asked her.
With all these mysteries, her apprehensions sharpened. She locked herself in her room and began to ponder them. Worse. Even the grains of sand seemed like mountains to her. Uneasiness consumed her. It was essential to force Nieves to clarify this mystery; but how? By fair means? By foul means? By sending her here? By going to get her himself? And if it turned out in the end that it was all a pure hallucination of hers and that Nieves was right, what would she think of him? How upsetting for the poor girl! But what if there was something? In the midst of these mortifying doubts, she left her room and , barely restraining her impatience, headed slowly to the small living room where she assumed Nieves would already be. Indeed, she was, working in her usual place next to the balcony door. Bermúdez remained there for an hour and a half, making no progress in his plans. Measuring and weighing Nieves’s gestures, words, and attitudes, he sometimes affirmed that she was, and sometimes thought she wasn’t. Not knowing what to believe, he refrained from investigating anything properly and left the small room as darkly as he had entered it, but less uneasy; because seeing and hearing his daughter, it seemed impossible to him that there was any mystery within her that should alarm him. “Let’s suppose,” he thought as he walked toward his study, “that there is something she won’t tell me now: what could it all be?” Some of your childish things that will make me laugh when they reveal themselves… For now, that headache you’ve been complaining about and saying you’ve had since this morning already justifies your lack of appetite and certain outbursts that seem like distractions. If we add to this the start and agitation with which the poor woman came from the dock at noon, and the fact that the Catana incident could be a misgiving of mine, nothing more than a misgiving, and that about the dress… Damn it! This dress thing is about as strange as it gets; but you say it right!… Don Claudio arrived at six, as he does every day… And Bermúdez also saw something suspicious and alarming in Don Claudio: he also looked and spoke with suspicion, as if he were walking in half-light on the ground he was treading on. It seemed as if he were paying a mourning visit, and that he was trying to gauge the state of mind in order to accommodate theirs to the temper of his own. When had anything like this ever been seen from the carefree commander? “We’ll be out of town today, Don Claudio,” Bermúdez said, keeping an eye on him so as not to miss his friend’s slightest gesture; “I mean, I’m staying. ” Not the slightest sign of surprise from Don Claudio Fuertes! As if he thought the news was excused! “Well, I’m sorry,” he responded somewhat belatedly, but mechanically and coldly. “Nieves is feeling a bit unwell today… and she’s not going out…” This other news didn’t surprise Señor Don Claudio Fuertes either. As if he had already expected it, he said very calmly to his friend: “Nothing at all, of course, without consequences… ” “A headache,” replied Don Alejandro, staring at the other, “that he got this morning… ” “Where?” asked Don Claudio after clearing his throat. “On the walk,” Bermúdez responded, still looking at his friend. “She took a little longer than usual, and came back a little out of breath. ” “From where? ” “From where!… Well, baskets! From the walk; aren’t I telling you ? ” ” I meant to say where she had walked. ” “Well, where she usually goes when I’m not with her: around here … as far as the Miradorio… First we had walked together along the coast toward the mine… I left her reading in the Glorieta, and I came home to deal with my overdue correspondence… When I finished, at noon, I saw her enter her study, back from her walk and very hurried, because she didn’t know it was so late… Apparently, she got engrossed in her reading; and with the agitation and the shock… and the sun… I’d been telling her at home for two hours! Here Don Claudio revived and returned to his usual tone and manner: “In short,” he said to his friend, “because of the walk, or the sun, or her haste at believing you were taking care of yourself, or a little of each, Nieves arrived with a headache and still has it. ” “Exactly,” responded Don Alejandro, very surprised by the sudden change in the commander’s mood. “And of course,” he added, “she’ll be up and about as happy as can be? ” “All up and about as happy as can be,” repeated Bermúdez, “and working in the small living room. ” “So what are we doing here then?” exclaimed Fuertes, all rattlesnake-like. “Let’s keep her company and start talking to her… I mean, if she doesn’t bother you, I’ll be out of the way. ” “Why bother, man, what the hell!” responded Bermúdez, who wished for nothing else since he had also caught “something” from Don Claudio. Let’s see if, by dint of accumulating factors there, even a spark of light could emerge. “We’re off.” And the two went to the small parlor. In it, nothing happened, absolutely nothing that the astute Bermúdez could have used to discover what he was looking for. Until, already at night, the apothecary and his son arrived at the gathering… and plunged him yet another elbow into the depths of his apprehensions. What a face Don Adrián had, and what a voice, almost tearful, and what a cowardly and bewildered look Leto had! Neither of them uttered a clear word when greeting Don Alejandro; and God knows what the outcome of that scene would have been if Don Claudio Fuertes hadn’t ended it this way: “Here, gentlemen, there’s no news other than a very slight headache Nieves got this morning on a long walk, on foot and in the sun: truly reckless… the things of young girls, very confident in their endurance.” But she’s almost back to normal, and for a moment now, she’s been perching on that balcony, so entertained that she didn’t even hear you arrive. The two pharmacists seemed to have revived with the officious warnings of Don Claudio Fuertes; but, on the other hand, the suspicious Bermúdez fell into further confusion, because if the tone of the commander’s words had seemed suspicious to him, even more suspicious were the effects they had had on the minds of the two Pérezs. It couldn’t be denied that there were four phenomena, four strange things, four strange symptoms, which, although independent of each other, converged on a point common to all of them: the mysterious case of Nieves. If something had happened to Nieves, Catana, Fuertes, and the two pharmacists knew it. This was already a discovery: a new and easier path to pursue the truth. But how sad it was for him to have discovered him! How gladly she would have thrown out the enigma of her mortifications in the middle of the gathering so that those friends would answer her back immediately, resolved and clarified: out of charity, if they were willing, or out of duty, if they forced her to exercise her right by foul means! But what if her suspicions weren’t well-founded? What an unforgivable shock! She opted to leave things as they were, but without losing sight of them. As soon as Nieves heard footsteps and suspected they might be Leto’s, she went out onto the balcony and leaned her elbows on the railing. There was nothing unusual about the incident, because the night was very hot. She pretended not to notice the two Pérezes arriving; and only when they greeted her from the doorway did she turn toward them to answer, but without leaving the balustrade. “Excuse me,” she told them, “for receiving you with such confidence, because in the dark and fresh air, as I am here, my headache is much relieved . ” Don Adrián ventured to suggest two infallible remedies to cure it, and Leto, to explain them better, approached her… Talking and talking, they both turned their backs to the gathering; and now both of them resting their elbows on the railing, Nieves said to Leto, quietly, very quietly: “Papa doesn’t know anything.” “I’ve already met him,” Leto responded between palpitations of her heart and shudders of her fibers. “How afraid I was that he would find out, Nieves! “I don’t know,” replied the other, her voice also not very firm, “whether it would have been better for him to know, because he’s very suspicious; and the poor thing can’t find any peace, nor can I have him seeing him like this. ” “What’s he suspicious of?” “You see: what happened was what Catana said could happen: we arrived home without him having left his room, where he had been locked up all morning writing. You know, when he takes on a task like that, which he takes on from time to time, you always have to go in and call him to eat. Well, anyway: we arrived without anyone seeing us, Catana put away the contraband of wet clothes, and I ran off to my study; but when I entered the room, bang! he came out of his and caught me. Although very frightened, I apologized quite well. And he had already swallowed the lie I had concocted in the air, from a very long walk after having spent a long time reading in the Glorieta, where he had left me, when, son, looking at me again and again, he insisted that the dress I was wearing was different—I believe him!—from the one I had worn in the morning… I was so taken aback then, that I was either sure I was sure I was sure; but controlling myself a little, I tried to deny, and I denied, with the greatest shamelessness, that I had changed my dress at all that morning. For the moment, I left him in doubt and waited for no more. But, oh, Leto! When I went out to table… imagine in what spirits I went out, with what desire to eat, and with what looks; for, however much I tried to compose myself and dress in such a way as to erase the marks of the past, they were so deep! With all this, and how suspicious he had become, and, to make matters worse, with Catana’s lack of dissimulation in serving us, the poor man was put on tenterhooks and questions came and went, and a glance at Catana and a glance at me. That ended, I don’t know how, and another inquiry began in the parlor… until he grew tired, shortly before Don Claudio arrived. And all this while I’m denying it and laughing for no reason and dying of grief at the violence I’m living through and the bad times I’m giving poor Papa… And, another thing, Leto, how do I know what’s going through his head? Because what he least suspects is the truth; And since the fact is that I have been out of the house all morning, and I do not wish to declare what has happened to me, nor can I convince you that nothing has happened to me… Don’t you think that the simplest thing would be to reveal it?… “Don’t reveal it, for all the saints in heaven, Nieves!” Leto begged her with his heart in his mouth. “But why, man of God? Don’t the reasons I have given you seem weighty to you?” “Yes, they do; but I also have others that weigh to the contrary. ” “Let’s see them. Let’s see them! I’m afraid they seem to you to be reasons of selfishness, Nieves; because the truth is that they seem quite evident, just like that… In the first place, Señor Don Alejandro is incapable of being disfavored by you; and in thinking anything disfavorable about you; And seeing that you continue to deny it and have returned to being, in every way and in every way, what you were before, as you will be again from tomorrow, as soon as tonight you sleep peacefully for a few hours—and you will sleep them even if at first the nightmares keep you awake somewhat—all your apprehensions will dissipate, and you will end up laughing at them. I swear to you that if I didn’t believe so, I would advise you to reveal the truth to him this very night. “But it can be discovered by someone who knows, as it ought to be known, and who comes around with the best intentions; or on the street when he goes out… ” “The case has already been anticipated, and the risk has been averted as much as possible; and if the spell isn’t sufficient… then it will be an opportunity to explain everything to him as best we can, and to calm him down. ” “Is that one of the reasons?” Nieves asked him. “Doesn’t it seem to you to be of some weight?” the other asked in turn. –What I don’t think is selfish… –The selfish part comes now–said Leto, arming himself with determination–: listen to her: the day that Mr. Alejandro finds out what happened, space will be left without air and the sky without sun for me. “What exaggerations, man! And why?” “Because on that day, as a just punishment, the doors of this house will be closed to me.” Leto feared that this clarification of the other two hyperboles would sound too harsh in Nieves’s ears, and he hastened to say it: “I beg you not to give these words any meaning other than the very modest one they carry: your greatest kindnesses to me will never make me confuse positions or distances: from your most humble position, the poorest on earth enjoy the benefits of the sun and the air that give him life… I don’t know if you have fully understood what I wanted to tell you. ” Nieves did not clear up his doubt with words, for now, nor with a gesture, because, even if he did, Leto could not catch him in the darkness that enveloped them; But after a brief moment of silence, he heard Don Alejandro Bermúdez’s daughter say to him, always very quietly: “We Andalusians have a reputation for exaggeration; but watch out for you!… And besides being an exaggerator, you’re a visionary: to think that they’d leave you breathless and without light for a fact that others would loudly publicize to give themselves importance!… Who do you take my father for, Leto? Would so many do for your daughter what you did this morning? ” “If that,” Leto replied with great vehemence, “wasn’t doing Nieves, but undoing; partially correcting a previous brutality of mine. If the salient point of this case is not that I threw myself into the sea after you, but that I agreed to secretly take you on my ship, and then caused you to fall! What did my life matter now, or a hundred lives that I could have had at my disposal, after putting yours in danger ?” And this is where Don Alejandro would have to see the case, and anyone who conducts it calmly will see it. “So,” Nieves observed with an irony that was perfectly transparent in the accent of her voice and even in the way she turned her little head toward Leto, “that if, like how I went secretly on your yacht and fell because of you, I go at my father’s express command and fall because of me, and at sea I’m left without anyone’s help? ” “Not that!” Leto replied instantly and with a burning vivacity. “I would have thrown myself just as hard after you; only in that case the incident would have had the little importance it cannot and should not have today. If Leto could have seen Nieves’s face then! Instead, he heard Nieves say to her: “You are a very bad judge in your own case, it’s obvious. Do you want to leave that case to me?” “Do you want it to be up to me whether or not to reveal to Papa the mystery that the poor fellow is so eagerly seeking? ” “I don’t want more,” Leto responded, “than whatever you want… After all, between you and me, reason cannot waver…” “It must be because it belongs to me,” Nieves replied. “In any case, thank you very much for the powers you give me, and hear me out a few words in response to that matter about places for getting some fresh air and sun. In cases like the one you mentioned and I was afraid you might offend me, I don’t admit ups or downs; because, if we were to judge each other, who knows, Leto, who would rightfully deserve the highest position? It’s possible that we may speak slowly about this same thing again… I wouldn’t mind. For now, let the matter remain as it is.” That is to say, that I have understood you, and that you do not deserve the position you are content with, basking in the sun and the air… Another thing: do you hear the sea?… Doesn’t it seem that she is relating the story in a low voice, so that Papa will find out, and murmuring against you for leaving her without the prey she was already devouring? All afternoon I have been feeling the same illusion in my ears… Rogue memory, what a bad time you are giving me!… If I could fix it to my liking, I would erase the bitterness in it; and then it would be something quite different… I was afraid that you would not come tonight, Leto. Since I left you so worried and you are so… special!… On the other hand, I almost felt that you would come, thinking that seeing you suddenly enter … what do I know? It depends on so little that Papa, with his suspicions Come on, make me tell you the truth! Because of that fear, as soon as I heard your footsteps, I came here with a pretext… The dangerous thing for me was the first impression. Besides, I wanted us to talk at all. You see, after what happened, what could be more natural? And the little bit we did talk, we wouldn’t have to shout in front of people, right, Leto?… Well, tell me now everything that has happened to you since we said goodbye on the yacht. Through what strange combination of sensations and ideas did Leto then imagine that, having seen Bermúdez’s anger against him through Nieves’s tirade, it would acquire colossal proportions? Deep in this hallucination and preparing to respond to Nieves, he was surprised by the voice of Don Alejandro himself, saying from the balcony door: “Little girl, the dew is going to hurt you.” The two on the railing turned to face inside. Nieves, more serene than Leto, responded immediately: “On the contrary, Papa: it’s becoming very good for me.” “You’ll imagine it will,” Bermúdez insisted dryly; “but I know it’s hurting you…” “Don Alejandro is right,” Leto allowed himself to say, as if trying to ingratiate himself with him. “You’ll be better off inside.” And the two of them went into the small parlor, where the three elderly gentlemen were supremely bored . The gathering ended shortly afterward… Upon descending to the villa, Don Adrián and the Commander agreed that poor Don Alejandro was on tenterhooks. There had been no way to interest him in any conversation. Leto hadn’t been fully informed about this because he had spent most of his time on the balcony, “too much time,” in Fuertes’s emphatic opinion; because in the state of the good gentleman’s spirits, even his fingers seemed like “guests.” Don Claudio also emphasized this matter of the guests to Leto, who excused his behavior with Nieves’s expressed desire to remain there, for fear of her father’s incessant inquiries , and to discuss what was most convenient for everyone, between saying it or keeping quiet. “And what have you agreed on?” Fuertes asked him, with the greatest simplicity in the world. Leto was so suspicious of the commander’s nose that he was startled by the question, thinking it was directed toward something else than what had been discussed on the balcony and which he had stored away in his memory and eagerly savored at times to sweeten the bitterness of his recollections of the morning. But he recovered instantly and answered: “That she does what seems most prudent to her. ” “Very well agreed upon, damn it!” Don Adrián Pérez then observed, stopping to address his two interlocutors, who also stopped. Truly, the moral situation of our excellent friend is not one to be prolonged for long… that’s it… nor is ours, no, sir, nor is ours either… He can overcome the apprehensions that worry him; but he might not… and suppressed apprehensions are gunpowder that finally explodes, damn it! and then, what could have been cured with two quarts of ointment becomes a carnage… And we must flee from these extremes… that’s it… especially when the matter, carefully considered, carefully considered, that’s it, isn’t worth the trouble, as in the present case; yes, sir, as in the present case. What’s it all about, in the end?… That’s it, what’s it all about? Well, damn it! at full speed, a trifle… a bunch of kids, that’s it… That Señor Don Alejandro finds out about her… finds out about her, ordinary… that he gets a little upset… that’s it, and he throws a squabble at you, Leto, and another squabble at his daughter… Well, let’s put it at the most… and let there be a squabble: for me too, damn it!… and even for you too, Don Claudio… that’s it, yes, sir, a squabble for each one… And what?… However much we turn it around, it will always come out clear, clear, that’s what I said before: a bunch of kids… that will serve as a government from now on, and that will put an end to these dangerous recreations for her… very well finished, damn it! “I wish I had enough influence to force you to do the same! That ‘s it… Well, now Señor Don Alejandro is relieved and satisfied, we are calm, calm and satisfied as well, that ‘s it, and things are back to normal, and peace is restored in Peleches. Well, let’s put ourselves at the other extreme, and Señor Don Alejandro is beginning to see towers and mountains, damn it! and to suspect everyone. That gentleman doesn’t deserve, he doesn’t deserve, that’s what, such great mortification for such small reasons: so small, yes, sir, if we are his good friends, good friends, damn it! Don’t you think so, Señor Don Claudio? ” “Verbatim, Señor Don Adrián,” responded the commander, breaking off the interrupted march, “and I allow myself to advise Leto that if the interested party does not resolve her doubts along these same lines, he should use all his prestige to influence her to do so, for their benefit .” and you, Leto, in particular. “That’s it, damn it, yes, sir, that’s it!” And no more was said about the matter, nor about anything else for that occasion, among the three Peleches regulars. Chapter 21. The following day. During the early hours of the night, Nieves woke up many times: even asleep, she heard the gurgling of the sea, recounting the event to everyone and demanding the prey that had been snatched from her jaws; but she was in the prime of life, at the age when wounds don’t go as deep as they hurt; her physical distress was great, because the day’s battle had been a trial; and in the end, she was overcome by a restful and peaceful sleep from which she didn’t wake until well into the morning. But her blessed father didn’t sleep a wink all night. How he tossed and turned in that bed, looking for positions to ward off the fantasies that kept him awake! The spaces he had traveled with his imagination in so many long, silent hours! At times, he even regretted having allowed “the madwoman of his house” to take such lofty flights. “Not so much, my goodness! Not so much,” he said to himself, “for it is as bad to go too far as to not arrive. There is something, no doubt about it; but why should we direct the currents in this direction and not in that? That damned human malice that never repents or amends!… I am not satisfied, no, sir, nor can I be. We must look elsewhere, and with judgment, and with equity… and with logic…” And he began to ruminate again; but wherever he cast his ruminations, they always ended up in the same place. His thought-provoking machine had already taken on a vice; and as soon as it began to move, a little more this way or a little more that, it fell back to the same side. And this vice was an idea that had crept into his head through the effort of investigating precedents, piling up assumptions, and analyzing clues. He didn’t believe he’d uncovered the case cleanly; but he did believe its progeny, its kinship. Once this discovery was confirmed, it wasn’t impossible to find what he was looking for, and whose positive value lay, he was quite certain of it, in the mystery surrounding it. In any case, whether it existed or not, whether he found it or not, the clearings already made in that area had taught him a lesson that shouldn’t be forgotten: he had sinned, was sinning by being optimistic about certain matters that were in themselves very delicate; and however great his confidence in the virtue of certain physiological principles, the risks involved in the current case were greater, given the slightest mistake. And when in doubt, abstain. The first thing to do was change his habits at home: more discipline, more home, less eclogue. Fresh , fresh air was good ; But not in such quantity nor at all hours; good physical exertion, good country ease and carelessness ; but with discretion and without prejudice to other laws and other very worthy and very rational respects. Fortunately for Don Alejandro, that change of customs could be made; it would necessarily be made without his suspicions or regrets being revealed, nor offending anyone’s honor or delicacy: with the arrival of his nephew Nacho. From the moment Nacho settled in Peleches, even out of courtesy, he, Don Alejandro Bermúdez, and his daughter were obliged to adapt their customs to the tastes of the stranger, who would certainly find them very different from those that prevailed there. On his own, Nacho would not take a week to arrive in Peleches; any moment now he expected a letter from him confirming it, from Madrid. “And once he comes,” Bermúdez concluded, turning to the other side, ” everything will change and will run smoothly where it should run… Yes, sir, baskets! Even if the devil insists otherwise , let him not insist, because there is no good reason for him to insist. The day arrived, the people of the ancestral mansion stirred, each one set to work , Nieves appeared on the scene at mid-morning; And so at her usual center , so completely serene, so like herself did her father find her, that he felt remorse for having fallen into the apprehensions that had kept him restless twenty-four hours before. “Ah, you mischievous suspicions!” he said to himself, watching her bustle and stir, calm, careless, and smiling. “Condemned weaknesses of the core, that thus drag the most noble purposes and the best-placed hopes to the ground!… However,” his confidant added at the end, “not everything has been lost in this ignoble and dishonorable battle for me, since I have learned from it a lesson that cannot be bought with money, nor with the bad night it has cost me… Because the lesson remains, oh yes , it remains, baskets!… Because what has not been, could, can, and may be.”
As this change in Bermúdez’s mood reflected on his face, becoming cheerful and placid, and his words were also cheerful and placid, Nieves abandoned the purpose with which she had gotten up to reveal the secret to him, in the best way she could, if the poor man continued to suffer the tortures of the previous day. Everything was going to be as expected that day; and so that Don Alejandro would lack nothing, he even received a letter from Nachito; from Nachito, announcing his departure from Madrid the following day. He would stop four times in the capital; and immediately, in one fell swoop, to Peleches. Bermúdez counted the number on his fingers, trembling with pleasure… It was Thursday… By Tuesday evening he would have him there… What a blessing!… Nieves with the news… She was in the parlor, very careless; her father blurted it out suddenly, and it felt like a blow to the shin. Don Alejandro’s face widened by half a hand. “Woman,” he said, standing before her, the letter in one of his hands, which had fallen carelessly, “this delicate matter is already becoming a thing of the past. If not four, then three times with this one, you’ve received news of your cousin, like the devil at the presence of the cross; and what can I say? It upsets me, it… well, it doesn’t seem right to me, because it’s not fair… well, what a pain! It even unsettles me a little… ” Nieves was also a little unsettled by this reprimand from her father, judging by the frown on her face and other signs that were evident; but she quickly regained control and responded with composure, though calmly: “The thing is that you attach so much importance to this so-called delicate matter that it all seems too little to you. It excites you; well, it doesn’t excite me: I’ve told you so on other occasions. This isn’t a sin, Papa.” Do you want me to receive this news jumping up and down and clapping my hands? Well, I would be deceiving you if I did. Do you want me to be a hypocrite and a liar, or do you want me to be plain and simple, for goodness sake? Have you ever seen me more enthusiastic than I am now about your nephew? Well, if you want me to be sincere and simple, and I’m doing nothing now that, strictly speaking, might make you feel new, why are you angry with me when I don’t receive this news with the joy that you do? “I’m not angry, my child!” replied Don Alejandro, softening the tone of his words and the expression of his face, “what is properly called angry… I’m not even asking you to get upset about it.” joy; and I’m content with much less: as long as this news doesn’t upset you . For you don’t even grant me that little: you see that you can’t grant me less… and it’s natural, very natural, that I feel it; and feeling it, that I tell you; which shouldn’t surprise you, because you too would want me to be sincere rather than false… Isn’t that so, Nieves?… In that case, I still have more to tell you, and I’m telling you that it’s true that I never saw you enthusiastic about your cousin; but it’s also true that this little displeasure I just told you about is something new for you: since we’ve been in Peleches. “As if before we were in Peleches, we hadn’t discussed his coming. ” “So you’ve come to confess to me explicitly,” said Don Alejandro, his face clouding again a little, “that your cousin’s coming upsets you?” “Precisely the coming itself, no,” Nieves replied, undaunted by the implication her father had drawn from her words. “So what is it that displeases you then?” Bermúdez asked, now seriously interested in the conversation. Nieves, struggling resolutely against certain difficulties, easy to presume, that he was encountering in the enterprise he had undertaken, responded, playing with the small scissors with which he was cutting the threads of the embroidery he was busy with: “I dislike… or rather, I don’t like, something that has to do, or that could have something to do, with this coming. ” “And what is that something? It must be something new too, like the displeasure. ” “Not certainly. ” “And how come it didn’t displease you before now? ” “Because I saw it from a distance, and I didn’t bother myself. ” “Well, I don’t understand you, my daughter.” Nieves poked the embroidery with the scissors many times, which was in no way to blame for her haste, and fell silent; But her father wasn’t satisfied with so little, and added to what he had said: “If you would do me the favor of explaining yourself… Because the case deserves it. ” “I believe it!” Nieves responded without hesitation. “Well then… ” “I meant to say,” she replied somewhat hesitantly, “that if this coming were nothing more than… coming for the sake of coming… well, a coming like any other… ” “I’m here,” Don Alejandro observed, scratching the top of his head with a finger. ” But that’s going back to where we were before… What I need is for you to explain to me the very special something that this coming brings with it.” Here Nieves went back to prodding the embroidery with the scissors, and also began to swing the frame she had on her knees with her other hand. Her father then, now filled with alarming curiosity, pulled a chair up next to his daughter’s and sat down, demanding, almost for the love of God, an answer. Nieves answered, mustering as much firmness as she could: “Look, Papa, I would gladly speak with you about this matter, and very slowly, because it deserves it, as you have said; but I don’t dare, I don’t know… I am a young girl without experience or skill… I have my way of seeing and my ideas here… but nothing more: inside, alone, I explain it to myself and I feel it well; and if I begin to explain it to you, I’m afraid of saying what I shouldn’t and keeping quiet about what I should say… It’s a lack of habit… and of courage. Doesn’t this seem very natural to you?” “Very natural,” confirmed her father, who was now on tenterhooks, leaning closer to her; “very natural and excusable in a girl as well brought up as you.” But since the matter is of great importance, of the utmost importance, and one of the things I have most earnestly taught you is to get used to seeing your father as your best friend, I hope that you will quickly overcome those reservations so that I may finally understand you; and if you think it necessary, I even beg you… So now I’m listening, my daughter. Speak, speak for the love of God! And Nieves spoke in this manner, with greater freshness than she had imagined: “Once, in Seville, you insisted on knowing whether I was very or little interested in Nacho coming to live with us here. It was a few days before we set out. Do you remember? ” “Yes, I remember: go ahead.” “But you asked me in such a peculiar way that I was stunned. You You took my confusion as you saw fit, and that’s how things remained… Isn’t that true, Papa? “Perhaps it is… And what else?” “Because of something you let me say then,” Nieves continued in a rather uncertain voice, but with a well-formed resolution, “and other signs that I had known about for a long time, I suspected that between my Aunt Lucrecia and you there were… certain plans that had a lot to do with my cousin’s coming to Spain… Frankly, Papa: were there any or weren’t there? Are there any or aren’t there any at the present time?” Don Alejandro started in his chair, feeling so suddenly and completely attacked by that question, and after a few moments of silence, he asked in turn: “And if I were to tell you that there are, what would you answer?” Nieves replied without hesitation: “It’s those plans that are to blame for my not being enthusiastic about the news you gave me.” “Blast!” Bermúdez exclaimed, jumping up again . “Is this how it is now? ” “When have we ever been any different, Papa?” Nieves replied, growing more and more animated by the second. “When have you ever heard me say anything to the contrary?” “Woman, I won’t say anything to the contrary, but I believe you are aware and fully consented to, that’s for sure. ” “Informed, fine; but consented, no, Papa: it registers well in your memory. ” “Blast! He who keeps quiet and lets things happen consents quite well… All the more so since I came to believe that you, for your part, were planning the same thing as us. ” “Well, that was your mistake.” “Admitted; but why didn’t you bring it out of me?” “Because you didn’t even give me time for it the only time it would have been appropriate, as it is now. ” “But I see that it’s pressing you now, and it wasn’t pressing you before. Why is it like this?” “I’ve already told you: because I see it very close at hand.” Poor Don Alejandro was stifled in his chair, so restless and nervous was the disenchantment that plagued his candid hopes. Some misgivings had taken root in his mind some time ago that things might not go, on Nieves’s side, at the pace he wished to take it; but those repugnances, expressed with such fortitude and at such an hour, went far beyond the scope of his calculations. From the heap of reflections that rushed into his brain, he extracted these few, which seemed to him the simplest and most appropriate for the moment: “Let’s assume, my daughter, that I have been living in continual confusion on this matter, with the best and most honorable intentions, and understand that I love you too much for me, with or without calculations, to ever disregard your repugnances in matters of such importance.” “Because it’s one thing to pursue and cherish what you believe to be useful, convenient, and beneficial to you, and quite another to force it upon you, which I’ll never accept. In that case, what harm do you find in the coming of that poor boy, or what does it compromise you to, that you fear her so much? ” “I fear her, Papa,” Nieves responded immediately, “because I suspect Nacho is coming for more than just getting to know us, and because I believe he’s informed by his mother of these plans of yours, which are now known even at Rufita González’s house… Haven’t you heard it from him more than once? Who told him but your uncle, Nacho’s father, or Aunt Lucrecia… or Nacho himself? Because, of course, that simpleton’s racket seems excessive to me as soon as she sees me. ” “Who knows! Has he hinted something to you?” “Enough to give me further proof that he’s well informed; And he hasn’t spoken to me more clearly, because on that point I’ve always kept him at bay. Well then: imagine him already in Peleches with those intentions and fully satisfied with how much he’s desired; and consider me with my hands tied by the respect I have to show for the projects you approve of and praise. With all this, and how clingy and sugary he is, there’s no way out, Papa: either he’s going to give me a very bad time, or I’m going to give him worse ones. Either way, it ‘s not fun. “Bother!” Don Alejandro then burst out. “You take it for granted that that boy will be annoying and odious to you; and why shouldn’t the opposite be the case after you meet him? ” “Because that’s impossible,” Nieves responded with such absolute conviction that it left her father in suspense. “Impossible!” he replied after staring at Nieves, who seemed somewhat sorry for his outburst. “And why should it be so? What reasons are there for it? Until now, everything about him seemed agreeable to you. The biggest fault you had against him was his language; not because it sounded bad to you, but because the sound was strange to you. You had very little to fault him for! For since yesterday, everything has changed about the poor boy, as if a black veil had been placed over your eyes to look at him. Is this true? Yes or no?” Answer me, my daughter, but remember that you just praised yourself for being plain and good, the good of God. “Another exaggeration of yours, Papa,” said Nieves, evading the definitive answer that was being asked of her. “That’s not the case. ” “Common,” added Bermúdez, taking a new position in the chair. ” Let’s go through that as well, and let things stay where and how you want to put them. But good or bad, black or white, your cousin is already arriving at the gates of Peleches: what do we do with him? Do we close them? Do we let him in? ” “That’s not the point either, Papa: fix it properly. ” “I’ll hit you again! So what’s it about, my daughter? ” “It’s about answering a question you asked me at the beginning. You wanted to know why I wasn’t happy with the news you gave me, and now you know. It’s not about anything else.” “Forgive me, my dear daughter,” Bermúdez replied with a very bitter smile. “You have explained to me, in your own way, the repugnance or disgust, or whatever it is, that the news I gave you produces in you; but the why, the cause that generated it all, you have been very careful not to reveal to me.” Something vivid and very sensitive must have wounded Nieves inside at this outburst from her father, because she found no resistance to it, nor serenity enough to make up for the lack of a word with a gesture or a nod. “Oh, Nieves!” Bermúdez then said to her, shaking his head disheartenedly. “I am not what I was in the way I look at certain things; I also have, not long ago, my corresponding veil that changes my colors. If you only knew what phantoms I see sometimes, and with what clarity at others! For now, I see that I have not only lived in the error you mentioned, but in many others.” and I’m fearing that one of the biggest mistakes was bringing you here in such a hurry and for the purposes for which I brought you. “Well, if that was a mistake of yours,” Nieves jumped in, excited and nervous, the sincerity of what she was saying clearly reflected in her eyes, ” you’ve just got time to make amends. Let’s return to Seville tomorrow, today if possible . Maybe I’ll even be very grateful to you… Believe me, Papa, because I’m saying it with all my heart… ” “That’s it!” Bermúdez said, almost flattened now, “running away… run away, Nieves!… And from what… or from whom, my daughter? From that poor little Mexican? He has too little shade to inspire so much fear in you. There must be some other bigger bogeyman out there… God knows where. But what does it matter to you whether there is one or not?” you might say. And with absolute reason. What do I care, what reasons there are, or who am I to care ? Poor Don Alejandro was moved by the minute; and Nieves, who could see it in her voice, finally lost what little serenity she had left and burst into tears, her face in her hands. Her father came to console her, and she then threw her arms around his neck. “Poor Papa!” she said between kisses and tears, “you don’t deserve for me to give you such a bad time… and without cause or reason… because there isn’t any… I assure you… It’s what I feared happened… I don’t know how to give these serious things their proper value… when I want to explain them; and there’s no more… I will do only what pleases you… Does it seem too much to you to let me have free rein in these plans of yours?… Well, I won’t even ask for that. And I swear that I will never try to impose mine on you, even if my whole life depended on it … What more can I say to you? Do you still find it insufficient… to forgive me… and to love me as you have always loved me? Virgin Mary!… My dear Father!… If only you knew!… Bermúdez could not answer Nieves with words, because he found no way to articulate the simplest one. He made up for this temporary deficiency by tightening or loosening his embrace of his daughter; and thus the two understood each other so beautifully. To crown the scene, which was long, Don Alejandro managed to say with reasonable firmness while wiping Nieves’s tears with his handkerchief: “Well, that’s over, baskets! And now, let the girl go to her room to refresh her face, and especially her eyes, which have become as big as two fists… And such beautiful eyes!… By the life of!… Well, well!… Perhaps the saint is going to heaven for us.” One lets one foolishly follow , and then such unpleasant things happen… Awful!… as if there weren’t plenty of time in life to spill one’s most closely guarded secrets, little by little, and whenever it suits us best! Isn’t that so, my dear daughter?… So, let’s gather around and cool off a bit. Nieves, who was eager for it, easily obliged her father; who, seeing himself alone and examining his wound, noticed that with the end of the recent scene, the nail had disappeared, but the point had remained inside. Near nightfall, Don Claudio Fuertes arrived. Don Alejandro ordered him into his study, and there the two of them remained locked up until suppertime; for Nieves went to bed very early; and with this pretext, Catana, in compliance with her master’s orders , dismissed the two Pérezes from the door when they called her at the usual hour every night. Don Adrián, surprised, and Leto, stunned, went down to very close to the pharmacy without saying a word. It was there that the father apothecary addressed these few words to the son apothecary: “It really is strange, gosh! Yes, sir… it is strange. Not even as a compliment, man: ‘Come in for a moment… I’ll let Don Alejandro know…’ to pay him the homage of friends… that’s it… Well, then, Leto… slam the door, gosh! Has that gotten out? Have we fallen into disgrace?… If what she did is serious… for the same reason; and if it isn’t, equally… Come on, I can’t find a reason for the… let’s call it a snub, that’s it, undeserved… And it doesn’t hurt me because of the snub, no, sir: it hurts me as a symptom, as a symptom of anger… that’s right, on the part of Señor Don Alejandro… Gosh! With how much I esteem him and… Do you see it any differently , Leto?” “It remains to be seen,” he said, “whether the same thing happened to Don Claudio as happened to us; and I’ll find out tomorrow, if I don’t find out tonight. ” “It seems well thought out, son; very well thought out… that’s it. ” “And if it turns out the door wasn’t slammed against him, let’s consider you and I dead in Peleches. ” “Good heavens!” Chapter 22. A Serious Incident. Leto’s impatience was at a high level of tension to leave it like that until the next day, without the risk of an explosion! As soon as he entered the pharmacy, he said to his father: “I’m going to look for Don Claudio.” And he left. He looked for him at the Casino: he wasn’t there. At his house: neither. He walked around the places where he was used to be seen walking sometimes: not the slightest trace of him. “Well, he’s in Peleches, without fail,” he said to himself, dismayed. “My misfortune is beyond doubt. ” He straightened his steps towards the pharmacy; And upon entering the square, he saw, among the shadows at the back, near the mouth of the Costanilla, a black figure moving toward him. “It’s the silhouette of Don Claudio,” he thought, heading toward him. Indeed, it was. They recognized each other; and Leto said at once: “I’ve been looking for you all over Villavieja. ” “And I’ve been hesitating,” said the commander in turn, “whether to sneak into the pharmacy now to speak with you in front of Don Adrián, or to leave you a message so that you could meet me at my house.” “So you have something serious to tell me?” Leto observed, almost hoarse and trembling all over. “Not as serious as it is,” Fuertes replied, “no; but something that you should know for more than one reason, yes. ” “For you,” the young man thought, repeating Don Claudio’s words with a certain relish . “So the story isn’t just about me; and if it’s not just about me, it could be a different story from the one that frightens me so much. To clear up any doubts.” “Well, do me the favor,” he said to his friend, in a low voice so that no one but him could hear it, “of telling us whatever there is, whether it’s bad or terrible, because I don’t expect it to be good, or even just average.” “Because ever since the door slammed on us tonight in Peleches, my father and I have been feeling pretty out of sorts… ” “I suspected as much,” Fuertes responded, “and that’s why I wasn’t surprised to hear you say that you went all over the town looking for me… Because I was inside when you arrived, and I knew what would happen if you did, a little while beforehand, having heard the message Don Alejandro gave Catana… Situations the devil prepares and no one can remedy. To the point.” And he began to tell Leto what he claimed to be “the only thing” he knew. According to that story, Nieves and her father had had a rather unpleasant scene over the imminent arrival of the little mejicanillo. Radical disagreements in the way each of the two judged that event. Nieves, nervous and somewhat distraught since the terrible incident the day before, which her father continued to ignore, had let slip a few frank remarks that fell upon Don Alejandro’s suspicions like gunpowder upon fire. Because Don Alejandro had been very suspicious ever since that day, as Leto knew very well. He had experienced a common occurrence: finding something he hadn’t thought about, searching for something quite different; and what he had found without searching for it was the fire into which his daughter’s frankness had fallen. Or, if Leto wanted to put it more clearly, Nieves’s frankness showed him not only that her discovery was neither illusory nor dreamed, but that the damage had already been done, and had deep roots in the victim. Bermúdez hadn’t taken his suspicions further than the beginning of the path leading to that evil: it wasn’t difficult to guess the effect the discovery would have had on him, having, as he had, his calculations made and his hopes cherished, with very different paths. He had confided his troubles to him, to Don Claudio, to ask for information, if he could provide it; some clear light with which to guide him in the gloomy abyss into which he had so suddenly fallen; because he couldn’t count on what Nieves might spontaneously declare at that time, nor was it appropriate to press her further in the state of excitement she found herself in. We would see later. Fuertes had been very careful not to tell Don Alejandro what he thought about such a delicate matter; on the contrary, he did his best to convince his friend that he was alarmed without any reason. A useless task: Don Alejandro remained firm and resolved to use all the means he considered prudent to combat the evil as he should. What means were they? He did not know for sure yet; but he would soon find out. He did not blame anyone, he did not wish harm to anyone; because most of the time the most serious damage was caused for the most honorable purposes; but he found himself in such a difficult state of mind, in such a peculiar temper of spirit, that he feared committing, in the presence of the people who were the principal cause of his displeasure, some act that would later bother him. In this passage of the dialogue, Catana had been ordered not to receive Leto or his father. “This, for now,” Don Alejandro had immediately said, “and God knows it pains me to the core. We will get by with palliatives like this, as best we can; and then… we shall see. You will do me the favor of entertaining those gentlemen, with the best excuse that your discretion dictates, away from here for a few days, if it does not seem to you that I am abusing your authority.” ” That’s the essence of it, Leto,” Don Claudio concluded . “I don’t know if, by telling you as I have, I’m failing or not to honor the trust Don Alejandro placed in me; but I know that you are not a man to be content with trifles in draughts of this nature; and, above all, I know that this secret cannot be kept in any deeper depth, nor in a better-sealed chest than yours. Now, tell your father whatever seems best to you about it, as I intended to do, so that our friend’s orders may be carried out without setbacks like tonight’s for you… and take heart, by my grace! What happened the day before yesterday was more bitter and harder, and you behaved like a man.” The poor boy, with his hands in his pockets and his head fallen on his chest, didn’t say a word. The commander, after looking at him for a few moments with a compassionate expression, gently placed his hand on his back and asked, with that affectionate asperity so characteristic of men who have educated their affections among the rigors of military ordinance: “Does it hurt, friend?” The brave youth then straightened up and, pressing one of his hands with both of his, answered : “Alas, Señor Don Claudio! If after Nieves was saved I had remained at the bottom of the sea, what fortune for them and for me!” And without being able to determine whether that strange gleam in Leto’s eyes were tears or not, the commander saw him walk with long strides toward the pharmacy and, without entering, go up to the house by the adjoining door. Don Claudio Fuertes then, stamping his foot on the floor before starting to walk, exclaimed between his teeth with true courage: “And what better employee than you, I swear to the devil?” Leto went straight up to his room with the dual purpose of calming himself down a bit and thinking about what he should tell his father, among all the things the commander had told him. It took barely three-quarters of an hour. After that time, he went back to the apothecary, less than half calm and with the story in tact. His mischievous temperament didn’t allow him any further luxuries. He said little to his father, the two of them locked in the back office, to explain Peleches’s slamming of the door; but in such a manner and with such skill in his voice, his looks, and his hair, that it left the poor apothecary more stunned than he had been. “So, son,” observed Don Adrian, constantly and slowly, with his cap pulled down over his brows and his face sucked in, “that by hook or by crook… that’s it, for strictly speaking, no light emerges from the story: by crook or crook, I repeat, that cloud has caught no one but us… us two, that’s it. Gosh, that’s hard to think about! It’s distressing, Leto, it’s distressing… saddening, yes, sir, truly; hardly consider it, gosh! because if one only suspected… if the harshness, that is, of the punishment, corresponded to the… well, the fault; but if, no matter how much I reflect, no matter how much I go over it… Man, does your conscience mean anything to you?… But what does it mean to you… I suppose? What road are we walking on, son and father… that is, with those gentlemen, that isn’t flat and open, gosh?” If we were summoned, let’s suppose, to a residence, one could… But not even that, Leto: not even that which is so… just… Could there be, son, some report involved, that ‘s right… some perverse report? Because truly, damn it! Without a reason like that, one cannot penetrate… Finally, my dear son: let us become superiors while those few days pass that Señor Don Claudio mentions… and God will say, that’s it; God will say later… But for now, it hurts, yes, sir… damn it, it hurts! The poor apothecary spent a bad night going about his useless mental investigations; worse than Leto, much worse; because the latter, at last, managed to find, amidst his stings and spasms, if not a soothing one, a remedy to suffer even their rigors with pleasure; and it was that he suddenly fell upon an idea that until then he had not fully fallen upon, due to having his sensitivity unhinged by force. from his extremely pessimistic apprehensions. He had felt, from what Don Claudio had said, that he was a nuisance in Peleches and a cause of disturbance for certain plans of Don Alejandro Bermúdez. Thus, considering it as a whole, but studying it better afterward; separating things and examining them one by one, he remembered that the Lord of Peleches’s anger against him emanated, according to Don Claudio, from certain frank remarks on Nieves’s part that had confirmed his suspicions . Good God, what he saw, what he felt in those moments! What profound effusions, never experienced before! What new and sublime terrors! What strange misgivings! Let the sun suddenly set in the hands of a man who had been adoring him for no other purpose than to adore him. Well , Leto found himself in a similar situation when he gave Nieves’s frank remarks the only interpretation he could give them by virtue of facts and the force of logic. The weight of the mass crushed him, the light became fire; but what torments, what tortures, what adorable deaths! Because he considered himself dead, as two and three made five. That he didn’t hinder Nieves anywhere ; that Nieves had understood the metaphor of the air and the sun and the humble position from which to occupy them, and that far from being offended by the simile, she had even reprimanded him for not placing his stool in the front row, which she knew well enough, and which she highly valued in the depths of her heart; but that the sun should descend from its throne to… Merciful God! How could Señor Don Alejandro Bermúdez not abhor him? He expected that abhorrence along a very different path; But since she had arrived, and since it was necessary for her to arrive, she was welcome to go wherever she had come from. It was true that the abyss seemed deeper for him this way than the other way; but, on the other hand, it was less cold and lonely; and that was ultimately what he benefited from. Thus he whiled away the long hours of that night and the day that followed. More or less the same as his father had whiled them in the pharmacy and in bed, and the Peleches family in their ostentatious mansion. Very few words were exchanged between the daughter and her father; not because of mutual annoyances, but because they were afraid to enter into conversation. She, now in full possession of herself and having learned from Catana the order given by her father against the two Pérezes at the pharmacy, asked him very calmly on the third day after the serious mishap: “Do you know why those gentlemen haven’t returned here?” “Which gentlemen?” Don Alejandro asked in turn, discovering in his confusion that he knew exactly who they were. “Don Adrián and his son,” Nieves responded with the utmost calm. Bermúdez was quite taken aback; he feigned an evasive reply, and it made him feel worse. His daughter couldn’t help but smile at seeing him so embarrassed, and said very calmly: “They deserved better from you: believe me.” This happened as everyone went to their own holes after the after-dinner conversation. In the middle of the afternoon, Don Alejandro received the mail; and in it, a new letter from his nephew Nacho, dated the day before in the city. He must have been on it, on his account, for two and a half days. Had he already announced his departure for Peleches?… Well, the oven was already in preparation for that kind of rosquillas! Damn, what a mess! She read the letter, which was brief, and it fell from her convulsing hands. “According to reliable information,” said the little mejicanillo, “which I have just received, my lodging in Peleches could cause great trouble to my cousin, whose entertainment and pleasures, authorized and consented to without a doubt by you, are incompatible with the continued presence of a stranger who could even arouse a certain kind of suspicion in the fortunate conqueror of Nieves’s enthusiasms. As I had not the slightest idea of ​​these things and the time is approaching to undertake the journey I announced to you in my previous letter, I ask you for an explicit declaration of what has been indicated, so that I know what to expect before leaving here, or so that I may not leave in that direction, if even this sacrifice is necessary for the good of “You, and particularly from my charming cousin.” Don Alejandro Bermúdez remained for a long time as if dislocated in the chair in which he sat, his head bowed, staring at the letter, which lay at his feet, even with his vacant eye. Suddenly, he felt seized by an irresistible itch; with a swipe, he picked up the fatal paper; and, crumpling it with trembling fingers, he left his study at full speed in search of Nieves, who was in the parlor. “Find out about that letter I have just received,” he said, placing it in her lap. “Another proof of how unjust I am being to your good friends, and tell me, after you have found out, what answer I should give.” Nieves, who had already been quite alarmed at seeing her father’s bearing, also found the letter trembling in her hands: first from anxiety, and then from indignation. This gave her strength; And with their help, she was able to say to her father, returning her cousin’s letter to him at the same time : “This is an outrage, and nothing more. ” “From whom?” her father asked, his teeth gnashing. “From Rufita González: I’d bet my head,” Nieves replied without hesitation. “You know how determined she is that her cousin go and live with them. ” “You may not be mistaken,” Bermúdez said, belittling that detail of the matter. “But why does Rufita González know these things? Or rather, why should these things be true?… Nor is it this: why is what I suspected confirmed by Rufita González, or whoever it was who gave the news your cousin refers to ? This is the case, Nieves: this is the case of importance to me. Now deny my assumptions and call me unjust, and, above all, tell me what answer I should give that poor boy.” “If you’re going to give him what he deserves,” Nieves responded with a disdainful gesture, “you don’t have to think too hard to figure it out. ” “Let’s see. ” “Rufita González,” Nieves continued very firmly, “may have committed an infamy, excusable in her bad manners, by giving the news she gave to your nephew; but how can he excuse the prank of having come to you with the story without further ado? Does that seem to you the trait of a man of substance, or even of a decent person? ” “Little by little,” replied Don Alejandro, taking up his nephew’s defense with complete determination and complete good faith. “To decide on that case, you must put yourself in your cousin’s place.” He’s about to arrive at our house, and he’s told he’s going to be a nuisance there, in a way that pains him greatly, because the unfortunate man might bring his cherished plans with him… Well, woman, the least a sensitive and delicate person can do in such cases is ask, to avoid having the door slammed in his face: Am I a nuisance or not? Am I going or not? And I say, a person who comes from the ends of the earth, just for that! Do you think there’s a way around the argument, Nieves? Well, there isn’t, even if you imagine otherwise . In any case, this particular matter isn’t at issue here, which, for now, is secondary. My subject is quite different, which sooner or later had to be aired between us, and which I would like to air right now , since the opportunity has come to hand. Are you ready to oblige me, my daughter? Nieves, mechanically passing and repassing the needle with which she was embroidering through the very fine veil that covered her embroidery, her gaze lost in the air, indicated with a gesture and a slight shake of her shoulders that she didn’t care. “Well, let’s get to it,” her father continued, opting for what he preferred. ” The day before yesterday, right here at this very hour, we had a scene that hurt us both greatly, for a reason very related to today’s… I accused you then, and you neither confessed clearly nor denied, nor did you defend yourself; but you said and agreed with your silence enough for me to be able to form a judgment of everything, as I did; and considering it well-founded, I made a decision that you called unjust a few hours ago. Your point of view is so different from mine! But it is the fact. “That the other day you and I were going at it with petty exchanges and rhetorical tricks, and today circumstances demand that we put those petty respects aside and call things by their names in order to finally understand each other… Don’t you think so?” “As you wish,” Nieves repeated with the same gesture and expression as before, but somewhat more colorless and emotional. “Well, there it is,” added Bermúdez, not very calm either. “Between you and that boy there has developed a… well, an affection, let’s say, more… deeper, stronger than that of friendship… ” “What boy?” asked Nieves, almost voiceless and trembling, hoping to make the answer a little more difficult, as it was so bluntly asked of her. “Don Adrián’s son… Leto, let’s say.” “I don’t know,” said the poor girl, flustered and convulsed, “how to answer that; because it’s not very clear… ” “Let’s see if I can help you a little,” Bermúdez interrupted with a gesture, as if chewing ashes. “You’re a young girl without experience or malice; and he’s a young man who, although not very talented, has finally made his mark at the universities; he’s been feted at Peleches and highly esteemed by you, who’s no sack of wheat; and what a mess! One word today, six tomorrow, he’ll have been insinuating himself and making himself bold little by little, until he’s awakened in you… ” “Him?” exclaimed Nieves, suddenly revived by the virtue of her father’s unjust supposition. “Him, yes,” he insisted with true fury. “Why are you surprised?” “That you are capable of believing what you say,” Nieves responded, more serene now. “He, who is humility itself! Everything you suppose had to be presented to him as done and accepted by us, and he wouldn’t have believed it. I swear he has never said a single word of that to me, and I don’t even believe him capable of saying it to me. ” “Then what is going on here? ” “And do I know, Papa? You yourself brought him home; you yourself have praised his talents and his gifts to me a thousand times; if I have confided in him and taken him as my guide on some occasions, and as my teacher and confidant on others, it has been through your advice and with your approval. Treating him intimately and often, as I have treated him almost always before you , I have seen that he is worth much more than we judged him to be, and that he is capable of giving even his life for us without the slightest hope of our gratitude. I know all this about him.” Is there anything unusual about it that I should be happy to hear about and be pleased with the treatment of a young man of such rare merits? Well, that’s all there is, Papa, and that’s what was at stake when you announced the other one was coming. “And that’s precisely where the bad finger is,” Bermúdez replied, scratching his palms with his nails. ” The contrast worked, and boom!… Nacho’s off to jail. ” “I didn’t object to him coming, remember that… and remember also what I promised you. ” “What was it you promised me? Because, truth be told… ” “I promised you that, while I left my will free to… those things, I would never insist on imposing it on you, even if my life depended on it. Well, today I repeat the promise to you, and without any effort, Papa, believe me. I’m beginning to live now, and I love this freedom I enjoy at your side and among few good friends.” How can I possibly entertain such contrary plans, or even the temptation to make them? Granted that you don’t deceive me in what you say… or in anything, because God didn’t deny you the condition of truth; but it’s not enough to put an end to this damned lawsuit. For the same reason that you lack the experience to discern certain ailments of the soul, it’s necessary that I narrow my arguments a little more to know what to say about the matter we’re dealing with. You have no plans of a certain kind, not the slightest idea of ​​imposing your will or your whims on me: normal; but suppose now that I tell you: it is essential, absolutely essential, to change your life, your state… well, daughter, to get married, because otherwise, they’ll be hanged. Here you have two suitors: your cousin Nacho and Leto. Choose. “Then choose Leto,” Nieves chose without hesitation. “Very well!” said her father, stamping his feet to vent the anxiety that was consuming him. “Well, now I’m putting that apothecary himself in front of you, and the best, richest, most honorable, and decent young man in Seville, and I say again: choose. ” “Leto,” Nieves insisted. “Blast!” exclaimed Don Alejandro, already in the throes of the anguish that was choking him. “What aberrations, man!” Well, now I’m ordering you to choose between the disastrous pharmacist himself and the Prince of Asturias, if there were one, and single and gallant… the Emperor of all the Russias and the entire world… –Well, Leto too… –And you claimed there were no plans!… –But if you keep giving me ready-made ones, Papa!… –Well, Troy will burn, daughter… and from all four sides, before things go where they shouldn’t. Muttering these words, he left Nieves without stopping to observe the havoc wreaked on her by his unprecedented bad temper. Don Claudio Fuertes found him in a similar state of mind a short time later . He had precisely been given a very urgent and almost tearful order by Don Adrián to intercede on their behalf, to smooth over any rough edges, and a very well-formed resolution to please the blessed apothecary, believing it to be fitting and even just. He tried at an ill-timed hour! “Not only,” Don Alejandro told him, his temper fluttering, “do I maintain the resolution I made the other day against them, but I add to it the firm purpose that they will set foot in my house again every day of their lives . Let them understand this. ” Don Claudio Fuertes found no way to calm the anger of his friend, whom he did not recognize in that state, or even to make any conversation bearable. Suspecting that he would prefer to be alone, he said goodbye to him shortly after arriving and left without being able to find out what new bug had bitten the good Mr. Bermúdez to make him so resentful as he was against the two Pérezes at the pharmacy, although he presumed that it was all the work of some “frankness” on the part of Nieves, along the lines mentioned above. This rational suspicion gave him much to ponder; He viewed things with a calm spirit and from all angles in light of the information he had, and he concluded that, whether or not things went well, it was necessary, first of all, to inform Don Adrián of the poor outcome of his negotiations, so that Leto, who would be present, would understand it in its proper proportion. And he went straight to the pharmacy where, having found the two Pérezes alone, he informed them, with the appropriate charitable attenuations, of how badly their business in Peleches was going. Don Adrián was close to fainting. Chapter 23. The Apothecary’s Tribulation. Half an hour later, with a gaunt and drawn face, sad eyes, trembling knees, and labored breathing, the poor man climbed towards Peleches. The extra weight added by Don Claudio to his cross had made it unbearable. He could not live like that. He formed his resolution with heroic will; And as soon as the young man arrived at the pharmacy, and the commander left , and Leto went upstairs, he grabbed his hat and cane… and up he went! It could happen that the door wouldn’t be opened at the first knock: he would insist once, twice, a hundred and a thousand times, until the very oaks softened; or he would slip through the cracks, or he would take the house by storm… That Señor Don Alejandro, upon seeing him face to face, would shower it with insults… and what? Any affront, the harshest aggression. “Before, that is, those uncertainties, damn it! Yes, sir; than that violent state, that is, in which he couldn’t live.” The last rosy but cold tints of twilight illuminated Peleches when the old apothecary, with his livid and convulsive hand, held the knocker of a soft iron greyhound with a small ball between its front claws on the entrance door to the main floor of the Bermúdez mansion. He gave three very disconcerting knocks, like the ones he had heard before. The rapid beating of her heart was causing her anguished chest, and Catana came out. As soon as she saw Don Adrián, she said to him without even opening the door: “The sir can’t…” But the apothecary slipped into the vestibule through the opening, and from there interrupted the woman from Ronda in this way: “Yes, yes; but that order doesn’t apply, that’s right, to me; because I come, yes, sir, with your approval… Please be so good as to warn him, that ‘s to say, to let him know, that I am here at your command.” And as if this were not enough, while Catana went on the errand, he followed her from a distance, as if trying to stay on the trail of his prey so that he wouldn’t escape anywhere. Thus she reached the end of the passage that led to the dais. There was no doubt that Don Alejandro was in his study… she even thought she heard his voice a few moments later; his voice, somewhat out of tune, by the way. “My, my, what fainting spells!” Catana reappeared. With a fierce gesture, he rebuked him for his audacity in sneaking in, and with another, no gentler gesture , he ordered him to enter the office, which he pointed out with his coppery forefinger. Don Adrián passed between the living and the dead, and stood at the door with his tall hat in one hand and his cane in the other, motionless, upright, rigid. From there, he saw Don Alejandro pacing in bewildered circles at the back of the office. During one of those turns, he faced him, stopped, and said, with a curtness to which the excellent pharmacist from Villavieja was unaccustomed : “But what are you doing there?” “Waiting, Señor Don Alejandro,” the poor man replied, his voice like a thread, “for you to give me your permission. ” “According to my information,” Bermúdez replied, not softening any further, ” you already brought that permission from your house.” “My lord Don Alejandro,” said Don Adrian, wiping his gaunt face with his handkerchief and entering the office with short strides, “I have allowed myself to tell that… little lie, that is, so that these doors would be opened to me, yes, sir… Badly done, gosh, badly done! I truly know you, that is… but there was no other way to obtain, that is, an interview, an interview with you, my lord Don Alejandro. ” “And why do you need an interview with me, my lord Don Adrian? ” “For what, my lord Don Alejandro?” asked the pharmacist, relaxing all the muscles of his face. “For what?… For my peace… to sleep, to eat… to live; gosh! to live, my lord Don Alejandro… For all that.” Bermúdez, who, from what those words told him and from what he read in the voice and the pitiful expression of that man whom he had esteemed and esteemed so much, calculated the intensity of the harm he had done him with his violent measure, felt very deep regret for not having meditated it more, and cursed the black fortune that had driven him to such rigorous extremes. “Sit down, my friend,” he said, taking pity on him, “recover a little, and then tell me everything you have to tell me. ” He pulled up a chair for him and Don Adrián sat on it. He remained standing in front of the apothecary with his hands in his pockets. Don Adrián Pérez, after placing his hat on the next chair and once again wiping his limp little face with his handkerchief, began to speak in this manner: “I, Señor Don Alejandro, found myself just before last night… precisely just before last night, that is, the doors of this house closed… I mean, we found them; because my son came with me: we came together, that is… The case was to be noted as new… new, it is true, but not as anything worse; because it was possible to believe that it was a measure, yes, sir, a general measure. Good heavens, if it were possible! But it was not, my lord Don Alejandro, it was not! It was a measure appropriate and particularly for us; for us two, that is: for my son and for me. Señor Don Claudio Fuertes was kind enough to inform us of it, tactfully, yes, and with all due consideration, because he is a person of the utmost delicacy; as you know very well… He gave us some hope that, after a few days, that is, circumstances would improve… But the fact, my lord Don Alejandro, was still there; and it hurt, it hurt… We asked the reason, that is; and our good friend didn’t know… The night passed… without sleep, for sure; and another day, today’s, without appetite naturally… You see, my lord Don Alejandro: the notorious punishment and the unknown guilt, damn it! in good hearts… it afflicts, that is, it overwhelms… And so it went all day today, until Señor Don Claudio Fuertes, after speaking with you, came to warn us, a moment ago, that our litigation here was going damn it! from bad to worse… This was already blinding, my lord Don Alejandro, for those of us who were in the dark; that is, to truly blind, to blind, and to blind in agony! Well, death for death, I said to myself as soon as I saw myself alone, give it to me, my irritated friend, that is, if he thinks me worthy of it… And here I am, Señor Don Alejandro. He turned around twice, keeping one of his hands in his pocket and rubbing his chin with the other; and then, stopping again before Don Adrián, who never took his anxious gaze from him, and putting his hand back in the corresponding pocket, he said to the apothecary: “Continue, Señor Don Adrián, everything you have to say to me: after that I will speak, if you please. ” “Well, I will finish in a few words,” replied the apothecary, taking up a new position in the chair. That being the case, my lord Don Alejandro, and please understand this clearly, that is, clearly understood, from the outset , I agree with you in advance, as a person incapable of violating justice… I confess myself guilty, and my son, yes, sir, also confesses: both of us, we confess ourselves guilty; both of us will have violated you… there is no room for doubt, when, considering you, gosh!, the most affectionate and noble, that is, of friends, and the most chivalrous of men, you punish us… But why? In what has the fault consisted, that is, or the offense? This is the nail in the coffin, my lord Don Alejandro; this is my mate day and night. What is our crime? Let me know it, my son, for due reparation, that is; because otherwise, what is the use of good intentions, gosh? What is the best-disposed will? Of nothing, my lord Don Alejandro, of nothing, gosh! of nothing. There is no reparation, that is; that you neither admit nor want her… that these doors remain closed to us… closed, that’s it… Bad, sad, damn it! Very sad, very bad, yes, sir; but the reason is known, it is reflected upon; it turns out to be just, just, and worthwhile; and now it’s different, that’s it; but very different, damn it! And this is all I truly had to say to you, yes, sir; nothing more, that’s it. And while Don Alejandro Bermúdez made two more short circuits, he once again passed the handkerchief over his face, which was glistening with cold sweat. The man from Peleches, upon returning from his last circuit, said to the apothecary: “Let’s begin, Señor Don Adrián, by declaring to you, as I declare to you, that I am as much your friend as I was before, and that I esteem you no less than I did. ” “Thank you, my lord Don Alejandro,” replied the apothecary from the bottom of his heart. That’s already a great consolation, damn it is! “And having said that,” Bermúdez continued, turning around the room at the same time, because he was still nervous and terrified, “I also declare to you that it is not as easy as it seems to tell you everything you want to know. ” “Is it possible? ” “Yes, sir: it is certainly true. And let’s see if I can explain myself in such a way that you understand, without telling you more than I should. Imagine if the friend you love the most becomes infected with the plague. Will you stop loving that friend for taking certain … sanitary precautions against him?” “Agreed,” Don Adrián observed, opening his little eyes and mouth wide, as if surprised by the seriousness of the example. “Agreed, Señor Don Alejandro: I would not wish that friend ill… infected, that is, plague-ridden, or rather, for keeping him away from my family; No, sir: a prudent and conscientious measure… a conscientious one, that is; but I would warn you in due course way… in the best possible way, that is, so that he wouldn’t miss it, so that he wouldn’t be hurt… Well, my lord Don Alejandro, I understand the simile; but with due dispensation from you, you’re truly telling me nothing except that because we’re plague-ridden, that is, infected with something, these doors have suddenly been closed to my son and me. That there’s a plague in us, I’ve already conceded to you before everything else, yes, sir, granted; but what plague is it, my lord Don Alejandro? This is the point… I mean, it seems to me, and the nail in the coffin, yes, sir, very painful. “Indeed,” replied Bermúdez, biting his lip in anxiety, ” my example resolves nothing in the sense you wish. Let’s take another one more to the point. Imagine that you are not Don Adrián Pérez, but Don Alejandro Bermúdez; That, being Don Alejandro Bermúdez, you have a daughter exactly like the one I have: in other words, Nieves is your daughter; that you have devoted yourself body and soul to the care and education of that daughter; that since your daughter was a child, you have formed and cherished certain plans that, once realized, will make her happy, the happiness of that daughter, for all the days of her life; that you are aware , by signs that seem infallible, that your daughter consents to , approves of, and even cherishes the same plans as you; that with this understanding, and to better affirm and secure them, overnight , and by mutual and enthusiastic consent, you are leaving your residence in Seville and, heads full of dreams, are planting yourselves on this plot of land in Peleches; that you limit your intimate contact here to three people, highly esteemed and very dear to you: of those three people, one is me, Don Adrián Pérez, and the other, my son, named Leto; You continue to open your house to us and receive us with the greatest cordiality; and we reciprocate that affection with another as noble as he, and independently of all this, you, Alejandro Bermúdez, carrying forward, in your measured steps, the well-known plan; you allow yourself to run so handsomely, calmly and carelessly, and one day, on the occasion of an event closely related to that plan, you discover that the demons have taken you, incarnated for this purpose in your daughter and in my son; or if you want to be even clearer, in Nieves and Leto… Are you understanding me better now, Señor Don Adrián? Don Adrián, yellow and crumbling all over, rested his forehead between the two cadaverous hands placed on the handle of the cane, and did not say a word. Don Alejandro, deeply sorry for him, and in order to soften the bitterness of his own thoughts as much as possible and to finish explaining himself, continued in these terms: “I have nothing to fault in Leto, my friend, and much less in you. However you look at them, they are as good as we are, more so if need be. But I, as I have told you, had my plans; I saw them suddenly thwarted when I thought them most secure; I learned the cause of it; and what a mess! Don Adrian, I did, for the moment, what you would have done in my case: I isolated myself from the danger to think alone, to discuss it… One is not master of the first movements of the mind; and the bitter surprise confused me. I did not stop to choose a pretext that, while serving my ends, would not cause you mortification: I confess it. Besides, I counted on the gust of wind to soon pass, if it were not an illusion of my senses; But the opposite happened, Don Adrián: what I suspected became evident, beyond all doubt, and then I finally went blind. This is the case. Forgive me for whatever my anger may have unduly touched you; and to obtain that effort from your heart, put yourself, as I said before, in my place. Bermúdez fell silent; and the apothecary immediately raised his head and gradually raised his little eyes to his, exclaiming, half-cowardly and half-stunned: “Truly, yes, sir,” this case is surprising… and frightening … what is called frightening!… Come on, I need to have heard it from your mouth to give you credit, yes, sir. Something like that had to happen. For a punishment like the tax… which is sweet, gosh, very sweet! Considering the enormity of the offense, that’s what it is. But, sir, how did that boy commit it? What evil spirit got him drunk? Because he’s incapable of daring so much, truly, in and of himself: the same modesty going on, that’s what he is, and the respect, gosh! and the gratitude… What’s more: he’s seen me in the anguish of these days, yes, sir, and he’s heard me heap up, that’s what, conjectures and suppositions; and nothing, not a word, he, who is all frankness and simplicity!… Come, Señor Don Alejandro, I believe it, that’s true , but I can’t explain it. We could both be right, Señor Don Adrián,” replied Bermúdez, continuing his short walks. “It’s perfectly possible that your son did the damage without any intention of doing it to you, and that at this hour you don’t know what he’s done.” The human heart is often like that: to know the positive value of what it contains, it needs, like certain metals, to be tested against the touchstone. That’s what I did in my house, Don Adrián: subject an affection, perhaps unknown to the soul that contained it, to that test… And thus we both discovered him. The same test carried out in your house would have produced the same result. “I dare not deny it or question it, Señor Don Alejandro: after what you’ve told me, that’s it… I believe, I even believe in omens… and even in witches themselves, by golly! ” “The fact is, my friend, that the damage exists, to my misfortune. ” “That is, my lord Don Alejandro, what I regret: not mine, which no longer worries me. ” “And I repeat again that I am not complaining about anyone, but about my bad fortune; that I neither elevate nor lower nor esteem your son more or less than you, nor do I subtract or add to him by resorting to certain extremes and expressing myself in a certain way; But I had my course charted, my plans made… Yes, my lord Don Alejandro: you had your plans, very well- considered!… that’s right, and very well-made; plans, by golly! They’ve been plans for a lifetime, and they are, yes, sir, the most esteemed; and if those plans, let’s suppose, had failed you for a cause… ordinary and current, that’s right, and common to every day, you would have made others to your liking; while in this other way, that’s right… Therefore, Señor Don Adrián, it shouldn’t shock you that, without ceasing to esteem both of you, you and your son, at what you are worth, I persist for now in my determination… This isn’t closing the doors of my house against you, you understand that well… Not at all shocking to me! exclaimed Don Adrián, rising from his chair, trembling and with tearful eyes. “To think that you’re closing the doors of your house against me… when, that’s right, I’m going to close them myself!” “Because I must close them, that’s right, and not call on them again until I bring in my hands, yes, sir, proof that I have made amends for the offense inflicted on you… And it will be made amends, yes, sir, I guarantee it. ” “It is not easy, my friend Don Adrián. ” “I repeat that it is, my lord Don Alejandro… I repeat that it is! I know my son; I know that he is of noble descent, honorable, yes, sir, and honorable as only he… I know that he is incapable of raising, that’s right, his eyes above the statue, let’s say, that belongs to him; that he esteems and considers your friendship, certainly, above, that’s right, all other ambitions; that he is not unaware of what I pay myself and pride myself on being… of having been, the most esteemed friend, that’s right, of Señor Don Alejandro Bermúdez Peleches; My son knows, finally, that he is a worm of the earth, yes, sir, and he has too much intelligence, and integrity, to dare to mess with the eagles of the heights. That is it. “But Don Adrian,” Bermudez told him while lighting a candle in a candlestick on the table with a match, because it was already night, ” if it is not treated…” “In advance, of course, my lord Don Alejandro,” the pharmacist continued, ignoring the interruption, “I promise you that my son will do his duty, as I do now, and will do in the future, with mine; that is it. If he also has his plans, which I doubt, contrary to yours, I will tell him, yes, sir, to destroy them; and he will destroy them ; to never look towards Peleches again, that is; and he will go blind rather, yes, sir, than fail in my command; to sink into the dust of the earth; and he will sink, that is; he will sink to the abysses, yes, sir, the darkest and deepest. I trust it, because I know him, and because it is also all justice… reparation owed to you, truly, on the one hand; and on the other, honor, damn it! For us, that is. “I repeat that you are taking things to the extreme, my friend Don Adrián. ” “I wish it were true! But I am right, yes, sir, for my misfortune, Don Alejandro; in what I owe, that is, in what I owe, in what my son and I owe you, that is, as I was saying, and in what we owe ourselves.” In the world, Señor Don Alejandro, here, in this little corner of Villavieja, there are many eyes—damn it!—and many tongues; not all eyes see things in the same way, nor do all tongues explain in the same way what the eyes see. Miss Nieves is the daughter of the wealthy gentleman Don Alejandro Bermúdez Peleches, and Leto’s father is poor Don Adrián Pérez, an apothecary from Villavieja… that’s right; and a cloth like this—damn it!—can hold many scissors, as long as there’s a desire to cut, and there’s never a lack of it… Anyway, you can understand me now; and I, my lord Don Alejandro, who have honorably preserved for seventy-five years, that’s right, the life I received from God, I honorably want to hand it over to you on the day you claim it from me, which is already quite close … That’s right. Bermúdez was no longer pacing around the office: he had stopped in front of the apothecary; Standing firm, head slightly bowed, the gaze of her single eye fixed on his moistened ones, she listened to his ardent reasoning. “And now,” concluded the distressed pharmacist, “I have what I came for, and even more, that is, if you look closely, and I know what I must do. If you give me your permission, I will return home… to properly finish what I have begun to discuss here… But I would dare, to conclude, that is, and to round off our conversation, to ask you for a favor… the last one, Señor Don Alejandro, for not disturbing you! ” “I will always have,” Bermúdez responded affably, “the greatest pleasure in serving you as much as I can, Señor Don Adrián: do not doubt it for a moment. ” “I do not doubt it, Señor Don Alejandro,” replied the other. “And, as proof of this, I am going to make a request.” The road to my house is still long and rough, and it’s already dark, that’s all. I don’t usually manage well in the dark; but in the state—damn it!—I find myself in now… in truth, I have little faith in my strength; and a fall at my age…damn it! Would you mind if your servant Ramón accompanied me for a little while, just in the darkest part, that’s all? “Yes, sir, I have him,” replied Bermúdez, going to the alcove of his study, “because it’s me who’s going to accompany you. ” “You, Señor Don Alejandro?” exclaimed the apothecary, astonished. “Myself, Señor Don Adrián,” replied Bermúdez from inside, “as soon as I’ve put on my boots. Just like that, it won’t do me any harm to air my head out a bit outside the house.” Don Adrián felt his friend’s kindness, like a serene summer rain on withered plants. Don Alejandro soon appeared with all the necessary supplies to set out, and the apothecary said to him: “I haven’t even attempted to greet, that is, offer my respects to Miss Nieves, because truly it’s better that she ignore, that is, that I’ve spoken with you. ” “Nieves is going crazy again, and she had lain down on the bed a little before you arrived. Without that, you would have greeted her, because it doesn’t take away from the courteousness of courage, Señor Don Adrián. So whenever you like…” They both left the office; Don Alejandro entered his daughter’s; he returned to the living room a short time later, giving the apothecary the news that Nieves was better, and the two of them went down the corridor. Upon reaching the small square of the Collegiate Church, Bermúdez said goodbye to his old friend with a firm handshake. “You are now sacred,” he said, “and I am returning to my hiding place. ” “Thank you for everything, for everything, yes, sir!” the apothecary replied, his voice trembling and moved, as if he were bidding farewell to Don Alejandro for eternity. Bermúdez retreated toward Peleches; and walking uphill and meditating, he let these words escape from his thoughts, as if they were a summary of his meditations: “What do we bet, canástoles! that this poor apothecary is worth much more than I? ” Chapter 24. “The Villaveja Phoenix.” Accompanied by Maravillas himself, who had gone to the city two days earlier for this purpose, and to direct and improve the edition to his liking, the package of five hundred copies entered Villavieja, still damp and exuding the stench that drives youngsters mad and delights veterans in the fencing of the pen, at the same time that Don Alejandro Bermúdez went up to Peleches. Tinito the Wise Man headed home through the most remote alleys, so as not to be seen by his friends and collaborators, as this suited his plans; and once locked inside, and after insisting very earnestly that anyone who came to ask for him, if anyone arrived, be told that he had not yet arrived, he proceeded to break the bonds of the package with a greedy hand and divide its contents into four portions: one for each of the three delivery men he had agreed to, and the smallest to keep in reserve. It was agreed upon with “the editorial staff” that the newspaper would be distributed free of charge in the town among all the people whose list had been compiled with the utmost scrupulousness, without prejudice to distributing the surplus among “the least irrational of the anonymous masses” —in Maravillas’s own words. The newspaper was small and bore the name, in very bold letters, that appears at the front of this chapter, along with the following legend: _Literary Magazine of High Social, Political, and Religious Interests_. The front page and much of the back were filled with prose riddled with punctuation marks, under the heading _Our Ideals_. Then there were verses, lots of verses! One _Melancholy_, dedicated “to the distinguished young lady Doña IG” the Second Clerk; an _Ecstasy_ “to MC ” Mona Codillo; three _Ovillejos_ “to the illustrious Prosecutor of this court, my distinguished and kind friend Don FR, as a token of consideration and deep affection”; some _Cantares tiernos_ “to the charming young woman from Villaveja, AC” Adelfa Codillo; _Mis confidencias_, “a graceful composition, to the sparkling young lady RG” Rufita González; some more couplets in this order, several prose fragments, and also a prose _Variante histórico a la fable de Hero y Leandro_. Each poem had all the author’s first and last names at the bottom. Maravillas signed the _entrance_ with his own, and the _Variante_ with only initials. “And of all this, which one is yours, son?” the innkeeper asked his father, who, not daring to do anything greater, was watching the operations of unpacking the bundle and counting copies to separate the ones corresponding to each list of the three spread out on the table. “Don’t you see it?” the wise man replied, placing his finger on the signature of the program and the initials of the fable. “Everything that isn’t stupid and insubstantial verses: what will raise hackles. Oh, yes it will!… even these little verses, which are also mine, and suddenly they don’t seem like anything: you’ll see. ” “And do your friends from the copies know it, do they already know it?” The wise man looked at his father with the most haughty disdain, and said: “What could those fools possibly know, or on what grounds? They will know it tomorrow when the newspaper circulates and their vanity will be gone when they see the magnificent result of my appearance in _El Fénix_. They are the ones who sought me out: I have consented to their collaboration under my address in the newspaper, which will say whatever I deem appropriate, and nothing more. Does that seem little to you? What more honor could you desire? Well, you have a good conscience, for I would have lowered myself to consult you about what I was planning to publish in _El Fénix_! Stupid and cowardly people! They were capable of refusing to allow the newspaper to be published. “Truly,” replied the innkeeper, electrified by that thought, that saying, and that look of his son, “they’re no match for what you know, those ignorant and inattentive lads… And do you really think those writings will cause a stir?… May the devil not let them cause you any trouble… ” “Bah!” replied Maravillas, growing two feet taller, “hurricanes won’t go where you imagine. The effect of my first article will be astonishing, like that of a flash of lightning.” Few will feel the pain of the fable; and these will be very careful not to say what hurts them and where. Here are some examples of the scientific and philosophical quality of the article, or rather, of the program. Maravillas leaned close to the dresser, on which stood the lamp that illuminated him and his father there; he raised his glasses until they rested on his eyebrows; he raised the newspaper he was holding in his hands, lowering his head at the same time, so that there was no space of two inches between his eyes and the paper, and began to read in a nasal, high-pitched, and clamorous voice, while the innkeeper approached him on tiptoe, one hand placed behind his ear and biting his lower lip. “Our ideals…” Here he suddenly stopped; And changing his booming tone to a plain, everyday one, he warned his father: “You must know, first of all, that the phoenix is ​​a fabulous or imaginary bird, which is said to be reborn from its own ashes, as a dead plant is reborn from the seed it produced in life… Do you understand?” The innkeeper answered affirmatively with a nod, without taking his hand from his ear, and added to the reply another gesture and another motion that meant: “Go ahead.” Tinito the Wise understood the mimicry; and, putting his eyes back to the paper, he returned to his interrupted reading and to the booming recording of his voice: “Our ideals… Come out of your lethargic sleep; wake up now, oh, Villavieja, fossil town, deserving of more honorable destinies!… Wake up and shake off the ignominy of your shroud, rusted by the insane gloom of three centuries of barbarism! “Wake up, arise, and look at yourself! We will place before your eyes the great mirror of Truth, illuminated by the splendid light of the new days. Look at yourself in it… Ah, unfortunate one! You are troubled, you blush… you are ashamed! We understand, yes, we understand! You see yourself ragged and ugly, a vile slave, degraded and alone, among the crowd of other smiling, beautiful, free, and flourishing peoples…” ” There follows this,” Maravillas said to his father, interrupting his reading, ” a long, very beautiful and effective paragraph, of incantations and apostrophes of the kind you have heard, which last halfway through this second column, and I will say immediately… “Do you know why you are ragged, and ugly, a vile, and degraded slave, oh, unhappy Villavieja? Because the temple of your God is swollen with riches, and its criminal dervishes are lulling you with their soporific chants, just as a vampire lulls his victims with the breath of his wings in order to suck their blood… –Then another paragraph continues, also very beautiful, full of responses of this kind, with examples and comparisons admirable for their timeliness and the great erudition they reveal, and I conclude by saying: Do you want, oh, my unfortunate native town! to break your chains, and be great, rich, and beautiful? Then demolish your temples; bury your grotesque idols in their rubble, and cast their memory from your memory, and from your mind the idea that the dervishes have crystallized in it of a God incompatible with the extent that the explorations made in scientific regions by human reason. Not for that reason, O people of great melancholy! Will you be left orphaned and destitute of ideals that sublimate and ennoble you, anything more than the absurd metaphysical abstractions with which they deceive you today. Do you want to know who we worship? Reason. In what temple? In the study, in the laboratory, in the workshop. What is our Bible? Nature, with its physical laws and its rational and scientifically proven genesis. Our Saints? All the illustrious men who have contributed and contribute to the colossal work of our true Redemption, supporting and propagating the imperishable dogmas of materialistic positivism, which is our religion and our faith; the same ones we come to preach among you, because we love you and want your good… ” “Eh? How are you, Father? It seems to me that the thing is well finished; and spicy… and to the hilt, eh? The innkeeper moved the hand that was next to his ear to the back of his head, where he dug his nails into the thick, bristly gray hairs to scratch himself. “I haven’t understood anything greater,” I said while scratching, “the gist of all that you’ve written there. As for pleasure, I like the chatter and the… Wow! the best. It’s the work of a wise man: you can see it at once; but it’s all about tearing down the church and other things to the simen… what can I tell you? It might go down badly in Villavieja. ” “Don’t believe it,” Maravillas observed, laughing at his father’s candor. “Here, in this town, there’s material ready for anything: all that was missing were hands. Well, here they are. The article will surprise, it will dazzle, as I told you before; but the light will have been seen, and people will flock to it, like silly birds… Don’t doubt it.” “That’s better,” said the innkeeper, lowering his hand and resting his elbow on the dresser. “And what else, son? ” “This program,” continued the wise man, “is followed, as you see, by some verses, silly and bad, like everything these foolish people from Villavieja can write; the verses are followed by a little piece about the city police; the piece is followed by more verses, also detestable; and thus, alternating vulgar verses with my articles, the third page concludes, and the fourth begins with this news item that I’m going to read to you, and it goes like this: ” _Serious mishap_: Last Thursday, a well-known young man from this town and a pretty and elegant young lady from another town who lives nearby went out to sail out of the bay, as is their custom. We do not know if it was due to distraction on the part of the two or some unforeseen accident, because we write of a reference, but they suddenly went overboard, one after the other, on the high seas; and they would have perished there , because the sloop had been moving at a very high speed, without the serenity and skill of the sailor who accompanied them on board and managed to rescue them. We wholeheartedly celebrate that the mishap had no other consequences than the fright of the moment and the subsequent disappointments due to the lack of resources the young man found himself with to help the young lady in the distressing and clearly lamentable state in which she left the sea. Fortunately, necessity, which is ingenious in itself, made up for everything, and robustness and good spirits did the rest. Our most cordial congratulations to the enthusiastic expeditionaries of the beautiful yacht. ” In this news,” Maravillas said to his father, “there is nothing, absolutely nothing, out of the ordinary; of particular malice, it is understood: the account, even gallant and courteous, of the case that is reported publicly in the town. Well then comes the _Historical Variant…_ look closely, _historical, to the fable of Hero and Leander_. Hero and Leander were two imaginary characters too, like the phoenix bird. Hero a girl and Leander a boy, lived separated by the Hellespont, an arm of the sea, almost a sea. Hero and Leander loved each other, and Leander swam from shore to shore to have a chat with Hero. In one of these, the waters became turbulent and Leander perished. Well in the _Variant_ things are told differently: Hero visited Leander, not spending the Hellespont by swimming, but in a small boat, already under sail. One day the skiff was exposed to the sun, and Leander, who was watching, threw himself into the sea and pulled out Hero, half suffocated and soaked. In that solitude there was nothing with which to rescue her. The unfortunate man, filled with anguish, undressed her and, as a bonus, scrubbed her up and down with some dried weeds that were within his reach. This has given me the opportunity to paint a very remarkable scene in the naturalistic genre, which is the one that prevails today in all manifestations of art… The result is that the girl regains consciousness; that she spends the morning with the boy; that, meanwhile, her clothes are drying in the sun; that she is finally dressed, and that the little boat having been fixed by the diligent and pleasant gallant, Hero returns home as carefree and casual as if she hadn’t broken a plate… Nor in this little tale, considered in isolation, is there anything that could arouse the reader’s malice at first glance; but you should note that the story immediately follows, in the order of publication in the newspaper, the account of Thursday’s mishap; and is followed, in turn, by this little piece of news, which could not be more innocent: “In a very few days, a wealthy, cultured, and distinguished young man will arrive in Villavieja, a citizen of one of the most flourishing Spanish-American republics , and the son of two illustrious citizens of Villavieja, whose relatives and native land the illustrious traveler comes to know, after having traveled through the most worthy sights of Europe. It is almost certain that between the two accommodations that have been arranged for him on the highest and lowest levels, respectively, he will choose the latter, contrary to what was expected until a few days ago. As any reasons he may have for doing so are of no concern to us or the public, we limit ourselves to recording them and offering him our warmest welcome in advance. ” Once this last piece is in place, don’t you see how the three in a row form a single body with the same intention, quite manifest and clear? ” The innkeeper confessed, rather reluctantly, that he did not see it as manifest and clear as his son claimed: in other words, he was not guilty of malice. “That consists,” the wise man told him without being hurried by his father’s response , “in the fact that you are not informed, as are the people for whom this was written: you will see that they will catch you later… What matters now is that my collaborators do not know about the arrival of the package or mine; Because they’ll be walking around, like the novices they are, with their tongues hanging out of their mouths, curious to see and smell the newspaper; and if they see and smell it, the best thing that can happen is that they’ll relate the most substantial part of it this very evening at the Casino, thus taking away the interest from the matters. Well, I’ve done myself little trouble trying to get the package here when it should be so that the distribution can be made on time! Tomorrow, Sunday, the date on which the newspaper is issued, it must be distributed in Villavieja before eight in the morning. Don’t forget to warn the delivery men again when you deliver, very early, the list and the corresponding copies, which remain here, as you see, nor to urge them too much on the instructions I have given you for the distribution… Do you understand? Current. Well, everyone, go to your places now , and have some supper brought up for me right away, because I’m exhausted and eager to go to bed. The following morning, before the second mass, which was said at eight o’clock, there were no copies left in the hands of the distributors of _El Fénix_ other than those destined for the anonymous mass. All the rest had been distributed from house to house, as agreed. In some of them and at certain points, several copies were left: fifty at the Escribanas’; as many at the Casino; ten for Rufita González; five for the Corvejonas; the same number for the Codillo and Indianas; twelve for the Carreños, and twelve also for the Vélez family, Maravillas counting on the fact that all these people would have a marked pleasure in the thing circulating and spreading throughout the town and beyond. She. Don Alejandro Bermúdez, who had gone with Nieves to the first mass, was given his copy at the exit of the Collegiate Church, saving the delivery man a trip up to Peleches. Many other copies of those intended “for the masses” were distributed right there . Don Alejandro, after looking at the paper with more indifference than curiosity, folded it into three folds and put it in his pocket. Nieves, meanwhile, glanced at the pharmacy, at the back of which she saw only the young man with his arms raised and a bottle in each hand, pouring liquid from one to the other. No sign of Leto or his father. The latter, contrary to his lifelong custom, hadn’t gotten up early that day. The emotions and battles of the previous years had kept him in bed at that hour, much to his chagrin. As for Leto, who had spent the night awake after the long interview he’d had with his father, newly arrived from Peleches, he was locked in the small back room with El Fénix Villavejano. Before going down to the pharmacy, the young man handed him over with one hand, placing the index finger of the other, without saying a word, on the line that read: Serious Accident. Ten minutes later, Leto didn’t look like a man, but rather like a freshly caged beast. On this point, Maravillas’s predictions had come true quite well: the malicious acts had resulted where he’d intended them; on the other, success had surpassed his hopes: the newspaper was a bombshell in every home, particularly in those of “the boys in the editorial office,” who were shocked when they glanced at the featured article, a cause of indignation and scandal for even the most lukewarm of Villaveja residents. What would it be like for the poor boys who, with their signatures, had sworn to those sinful doctrines? How could they convince anyone that they had been deceived and caught? They searched for each other, fasting and in their slippers, as they were; they found each other, met, and deliberated. What to do? Break his head. On that, they all agreed, without discussion; but what next? To extract a declaration from him and issue a manifesto; but they needed the printing press to distribute it with the abundance and speed that the urgency of the case demanded… They were still deliberating on this at nine-thirty, while Tinito, who had his plan, remained shut up in the house, where he had received, through his father, congratulations from the four followers he knew to have among the shoemakers and sailors’ guilds. This had made the innkeeper very proud, and had seemed to him a sign of good omen. In response to a message sent to him by his collaborators, his father responded, saying he had left home. This continued until 10:30. At that hour, his hair neatly combed and straight, erect to the point of rigidity, smiling from ear to ear, and solemn and august in his bearing, he appeared before the Collegiate Church, ready to accept the honors of triumph that the most important people of the town were to declare to him there, as he left high mass. Meanwhile, a very extraordinary event was taking place inside the church. The parish priest, Don Ventura, after reading two marriage proclamations and announcing the week’s festivities, picked up another paper he had placed on the altar table as a precaution; he earnestly demanded the full attention of his parishioners and began to read to it, in a loud voice, but one filled with great emotion. It was a protest signed by Maravillas’ six collaborators against anything that could be contained in _El Fénix Villavejano_ that was offensive to religious beliefs or the honor and reputation of the families of that town; offenses ingested into the newspaper without their knowledge or the slightest acquiescence. They used that means of publicity for their protest, since they had no other at their disposal, and they reserved the right to use whatever their vehement desire to bring to the judgment of the public conscience the unspeakable conduct of such and such, and of whom… They called him good! From all of this, Don Ventura took the opportunity to praise the conduct of the declarants and condemn impious doctrines, the main object of the protest. “Attacking religion in a certain way, well, is often seen; but, man, to deny God; God One and Triune, Great, Omnipotent, and Merciful!… and in Villavieja! What an outrage!” And the blessed man wept in terror and sorrow. And his parishioners, previously indignant, were moved by his tears and wept as well. And Maravillas, who heard these rumors from outside, thought they were the prayers of the “fanatics,” and laughed at them while growing impatient at the time it took people to leave the church. To entertain his impatience, he paced up and down in the shadow cast by the mass, watching half a dozen boys and as many craftsmen who were hanging around there killing time. Ever since he’d left home, wherever he’d set his eyes or ears, he’d seen his newspaper, or caught some word about him; and those who saw him pass by stared at him, stared at him, with such fixity and interest! Even the artisans and the young men who walked through the square were ogling him. For how many were there behind the shop windows in the nearby houses, looking and admiring him? And in these illusions, for a good half hour; and the people were in church. At that moment, Leto appeared at the corner next to the pharmacy. That Sunday, God forgive him, he had been left without mass. The eight o’clock hour had passed, the raging storm raging in the little back room. Afterwards, to avoid drowning there in anger and indignation, he had gone out without knowing where or why: from street to street; And if he happened to run into Maravillas along the way … Because that outrage on the fourth page of the newspaper couldn’t have been anyone else’s: La Fábula certainly was, because it bore his initials. Well, damn it, what less than a couple of slaps to let off some steam? This couldn’t have shocked anyone: it was reasonable and necessary. In one of his swerves, he bumped into the prosecutor, who stopped him to say: “Come on, my friend, ‘if they give me a good spanking, I’d be a real gentleman.’ There’s no need to complain. ” “Are you saying that,” Leto asked him, hoarse and somewhat convulsed, “because of that libel? ” “Well,” the prosecutor replied, lowering his sails before that hurricane in a hushed tone, “yes and no. Under that pretext, I wanted to advise you to laugh it off; because compared to the bun that so many people envy you for, what’s the smack it costs you?” “Well, look here, prosecutor, and so that it may be of use to you, ” the other responded, his lips trembling, “if you want to keep that bun from choking on you, be very careful not to take it in your mouth again in front of me; because above all my esteem for you and even the sun that shines on us, I place the respect due to the person you are referring to in your tasteless joke. And let’s leave it there , if you please. ” And there it was, to the great pleasure of the prosecutor, who had no interest in testing the strength of Leto’s enraged fists against him. Everyone went their separate ways; and the son of Don Adrián Pérez was returning from this adventure, with the thorn of its memory stuck in his throat, when he was seen appearing in the square on the side of the pharmacy. “Carape!… There he is,” he said, shuddering all over when he noticed Maravillas. And he went straight to him with the intention of slapping him; but when he reached him and saw that he was so small and that he was turning pale with fright, he changed his mind due to the scruples of his noble conscience, and settled, after turning him on his back by pulling his ears, for administering him a volley of kicks, some of which lifted him more than a hand’s breadth from the pavement of the small square. Fleeing from the blows that were crushing him, he tried to take refuge in the church; but just then the people were beginning to come out; and his bad luck would have it that the first to come out was Nilo Chuecas, the poet collaborator of the _Cantares tiernos_; who, upon finding himself face to face with the wise man, planted his best pair of slaps he had given himself in Villavieja many years before. It also happened that behind Nilo was coming out of the church, Tapas, one of the atheist shoemakers, admirers of Maravillas; but at the same time a very devout prayer-prayer, and a brother of the Third Order of Saint Francis. He was a robust and strong young man, and upon seeing his idol flee from Nilo’s fists to fall on the toes of Leto, he went up to him in an attitude of demanding an account of what was happening there. He was knocking on a good door and on a good occasion! Leto was precisely wishing to find someone on whom he could vent his anger without his conscience protesting for abuse of power. And he responded to the shoemaker’s interpellation with a slap that resounded throughout the square, and made Tapas spin around three times; Then, one of the craftsmen who had been watching Maravillas shortly before came to the defense of the slapped man , and received the same reception as Tapas from the apothecary’s son. Nilo Chuecas stood at the apothecary’s side. Two more atheists of Maravillas’s followers came out of the church and joined those fighting for him. People who had never dreamed of it, and had no reason to dream of it, began to fight here and there. The women began to scream and the peaceful men to chant incantations. Two more collaborators from the cursed newspaper appeared on the scene. The apothecary’s boy arrived. Don Adrián came out of the church, followed by Don Claudio Fuertes, who took up a position next to Leto and began to swing his club left and right. The Vélez family fled to the left, and the Carreños family, who were horribly afraid of the popular uproar, fled to the right . Two clerks fainted, one from Codillo and Rufita González, and all the balconies overlooking the plaza opened and filled with people who clutched their heads, their color drained and their pulses drained as they saw the combatants from that Agramante field rolling here in a confused heap on the ground, there brandishing their fists in the air, here struggling intertwined, and over there Leto and the commander mowing down men in a space three yards around, which was always cleared of obstacles. Everything was quarreling there then, except for the sinful work of Maravillas, whom no one remembered anymore and whose whereabouts were unknown. Finally, the trial judge arrived, accompanied by the Civil Guard; and even so, it took God and help to unravel that tangle of flesh and calm the waves of that rough sea for the first time in the memory of the oldest members of the town. It is believed that the sudden sound of the whistle of the Atlante, announcing its entry into the port, greatly influenced the successful conclusion of the fight and the speedier clearing of the square. This event brought most of the spectators of the fight to the dock, and even some of the combatants who were idle at the moment the steamer’s whistle was heard. ………………….. While these serious events were occurring below and above in Peleches, without the slightest news of them, something was also happening that deserves to be recorded here as a finale to the chronicle of that morning of eternal remembrance in the future annals of the illustrious Villavieja. It happened that Don Alejandro Bermúdez, having already forgotten that he had kept in one of his pockets the newspaper that had been given to him upon leaving the first mass, came across it mid-morning; and by chance, when he unfolded it, the fourth page appeared before his eyes, just as the first page could have appeared. He fixed his gaze on the heading “Serious Accident,” in bold letters; his curiosity was piqued, and he read what followed. He stood still when he finished. He reviewed his memory… “Just and fair,” he said to himself. And he flew off to find Nieves, newspaper in hand and glasses on the tip of his nose. Without sitting down, the paper trembling between his fingers, he read the “Serious Accident” to his daughter. When he finished reading, Nieves was pale, but attentive and very much in control. “There’s only one yacht in this port,” Bermúdez said, looking very fixedly at her daughter over her glasses, “no more foreign lady in it than you; and for made-up news, this seems very much like it… Later, the incident is reported to have occurred on Thursday, the very day of my confusion… Come on, the signs are deadly… ” “I wish,” responded Nieves, “that then, as I was tempted to do, I had confessed everything to you! ” “So it’s true? ” “If you promise to listen to me without getting angry with me or anyone else,” she said, emphasizing this word with a somewhat forced smile, “I will tell you the case with all its details, which are still important . ” “I will promise you whatever you want, my daughter,” replied Bermúdez, sweating with distress and sitting down next to Nieves. “But tell me, tell me, for the love of God! and get me as much out of this terrible curiosity I’m involved in as possible.” And Nieves began to recount; and as she recounted point by point everything that had happened that memorable day, with the most scrupulous thoroughness, even going so far as to use extra detail and color in some passages, as if trying to engrave them deeply in her father’s memory and heart; while he listened, absorbed, often shuddering, occasionally terrified , always discolored and in suspense; sometimes asking and re-questioning questions to hasten the discussion, and finally, she and he brought the conversation to the domestic events that had their origin in the one Nieves had recounted, the morning dragged on until lunchtime. Then Don Claudio Fuertes arrived, and what happened was what the reader will see in the following chapter, which, if not the last of the present story, must be very close to being so. Chapter 25. In which everyone is satisfied except the reader. It happened, first of all, that Don Alejandro Bermúdez, without giving his friend time to sit down or even finish greeting him, informed him of what had been discussed there with Nieves; news that delighted Don Claudio greatly, because he had feared, upon seeing the strange bearing of the father and daughter, and the former with the devilish paper in his hands, that they had swallowed the poison poured on their fourth page for that purpose by Maravillas. Having lightly aired that point, the commander assumed that the Peleches family would be aware of what had just happened in the town. They hadn’t the slightest knowledge of it. “And what was the cause?” Bermúdez asked after Don Claudio’s very brief description of the event. “The true and fundamental cause of everything,” he replied, “was the article that must have shocked you, because of its shameless impiousness, that appears at the top of the newspaper you are holding.” “I haven’t read all of it,” replied Don Alejandro, “except for this news, which has given Nieves and me something to talk and think about all morning. ” “Well!” exclaimed Fuertes, as if he were very pleased with it. “Well, so much the better then… Let’s see, let’s see, my lord Don Alejandro: as the faithful Christian that you are, you are obliged to hand me that newspaper… Come.” Don Alejandro handed it over, following what seemed to him to be a joke on his friend’s part. “And I,” he added, “have the duty, as the faithful Christian that I also am, to tear up the paper and throw it over the balcony.” And as he said it, he did it. “Because you must know,” he continued after returning to his seat, “that this newspaper has been excommunicated from the altar by Don Ventura at high mass, with a very urgent order to his parishioners to destroy any copies that come into his possession or that they see in the possession of their relatives or friends… This Maravillas is the devil. What a mess he’s made today! ” While they were at this point, Catana announced that the soup was ready. “Well, while you eat,” said Don Claudio, standing up, “I will give you a detailed account of everything that has happened; because that sole purpose is what has brought me here at this hour. ” “It would be best,” replied Don Alejandro, immediately supported by Nieves, “for you to eat with us. ” “The offer accepted,” said Fuertes, “taking into account that I will also be will you be so kind as to send a message to my house so they don’t wait for me. So it was done. Don Alejandro ate little and Nieves even less. On the other hand, Don Claudio Fuertes didn’t keep his mouth shut, more, truly, speaking than eating. He recounted the riot and the incident that preceded it in the church, with all its details. Even Leto and he, and Cornias and the youth, and almost, almost, Don Adrián, had had to take part in the fray. He couldn’t remember having given more blows with a club in his life… not even to the Moors of Africa. It was sad to have been so cruel to his own neighbors; but all the thugs of Villavieja had gone that way, and they had to defend themselves and help their friends. The pharmacy had since been filled with fainting and bruised people; Don Adrián, Leto, the young man, and Cornias himself were all wasted no time in preparing antispasmodics and applying compresses of arnica and vegetative, and even the occasional strip of binder. Such a thing had never been seen before, nor would it be seen again so soon, in Villavieja. The formal people were outraged with the scoundrel; and the families of his deceived collaborators were thinking of taking the matter to the courts of justice. There was also talk of taking some governmental action for having distributed the newspaper without the proper official authorization. There was quite a bit of outrage against the Notaries, as it was common knowledge that the eldest of them had paid Maravillas for the publishing expenses. It was said of Maravillas, and it turned out to be true, that he had fled Villavieja during the height of the fighting, on horseback, toward the city. His father had closed the tavern, scared to death; And from an upper window, he had declared to the platoon of curious onlookers who were abusing him from below that he was prepared to eat every copy of the newspaper presented to him if it would calm the prevailing anger against him. No one was to speak to him about his son: he was a troublemaker, a heretic, who was bound to come to a bad end if he didn’t change his mind, as he had been well warned… It was believed that very few people would come down that afternoon to see the steamer that had arrived; because spirits were very agitated, and a full house was expected at the Casino after lunch, and perhaps some disagreement among the young collaborators, who were burning with anger, and anyone who had the bad idea of ​​”taking them for a ride” or defending the fugitive. In short, the wise Maravillas’s program could still be in play. Poor Don Adrián still hadn’t gotten over his shock. Leto, after the unburdening he had given himself to his heart’s content about Maravillas and his defenders, was now so calm and in his usual state of mind; for him, for Don Claudio, just seeing him was enough. They continued discussing the event; the meal ended before the subject did; Nieves left the table; the tablecloths were lifted; coffee was served to the two remaining diners; they drank it, well interspersed with sips of excellent liqueur and puffs of very exquisite cigars. These were still half-smoked when Don Alejandro Bermúdez asked Don Claudio Fuertes to come with him to his study, because he had to speak to him in secret about matters of the utmost interest. Once they were both locked up, Don Claudio Fuertes was very curious, and Don Alejandro Bermúdez was very worried, but very calm and resolute . He said: “Had you noticed anything about what we might call my daughter’s illness, which I discovered and which I spoke to you about the day before yesterday in this very place? ” “Pshe!” Don Claudio responded after thinking for a moment and understanding, from the tone of the question and Bermúdez’s air when he asked it, where he was going with the matter on that occasion; ” something, something, it wasn’t difficult to notice: you see, like an old dog…” But when I was convinced that there was something, and a lot of it, perhaps without either of us having noticed it, it was when he, frightened by the idea that news of the event that Nieves told you about today might reach your ears , sought me out to tell me in the greatest secrecy. What things I guessed then, Don Alejandro!” and frankly, how great and what beautiful, and how admirable in that noble and brave young man! “Yes, sir,” said Bermúdez, shaking the ash from his half-smoked cigar with his little finger in a porcelain ashtray on the desk . “So that nothing is missing in this ill-fated affair, there’s even its novelistic quality; that romantic touch of the heroine’s rescue. ” “May God grant us good romanticism, Señor Don Alejandro! Romantic, an incident of such tremendous reality that it still makes my hair stand on end when I remember it in all its imposing simplicity! ” “Hair stands on end, eh? Look at mine, Don Claudio, still sizzling ever since I heard Nieves’s story. And if you could see the blood in my veins, and what’s going on in the depths of my heart, and the ideas boiling in my brain!” ” Of course, Don Alejandro, of course.” But I’ve heard you describe the main matter as ill-fated, and I’m going to take the liberty of telling you that I don’t find the epithet just. “Bombshells!… What do you mean, no? ” “Well, no, no. ” “I had my plans, Señor Don Claudio; I had my plans. ” “No problem: you had your plans. ” “From what my daughter gave me to understand on Friday; from what she declared to me yesterday, Saturday, bluntly, and from what she has let slip in her story today, it follows that her illness, as I told you before, has only one remedy; and that remedy is incompatible with the plans I had. ” “And what were you seeking in those plans, my sir and friend? The good of your daughter or the good of the other guy? Let’s be clear: assuming that I have news of those plans, because certain things cannot be hidden. ” “Granted, and your question seems idle to me. What other good should I pursue in those plans, if not the good of my daughter?” –Agreed; but you’ll see that my question wasn’t as idle as you think: what guarantees have they given you that Nieves’s happiness will be found along the path of these plans? –Well… as many as can be given in a case like this. –None, Señor Don Alejandro, none. You only know your nephew… because it’s Doña Lucrecia’s son we’re talking about, isn’t it?… Ordinary: you only know this nephew from his portrait, his letters, and the praise his mother must have paid him; and all this is very little. –Little? –Yes, sir, very little… nothing; because with all this put together, and despite his mother’s most honorable remarks, without her knowing it, the boy could be a waster, or become one, or an outcast, or a useless man and a detestable husband… –Throw it away, you baskets! Throw more stench if what you’ve thrown at the poor boy seems still little ! Friend of God, taking things to such extremes… “I’ve been speaking hypothetically, Señor Don Alejandro, and certainly not at all implausible… And what the devil, man! You can certainly bet your head that that young gentleman, with all his wealth and his little flights and scholarly flair, isn’t capable of throwing himself into the sea to rescue his cousin, as the other one did. ” “Bah!… The romantic streak has come out again. ” “Because it’s appropriate for it to come out; not because of its romance, which it has nothing to do with, as you yourself believe, although you won’t admit it to me, but as a revelation of the noblest and most generous soul that has ever incarnated in human form. ” “What enthusiasm, man! It seems that all of them… ” “It’s fair, Señor Don Alejandro, believe me; and because it’s fitting. ” “In any case, I’ve had my commitments to my sister for many years, and her son comes to Spain confident in the seriousness of them.” “Were those commitments made with Nieves’s consent?” “I always assumed they were; but hearing her now, it turns out they weren’t. ” “And is it possible that you, the best of fathers and the most gentlemanly of men… without a trace of flattery, Señor Don Alejandro, are capable of attaching more importance to those commitments, badly contracted, than to the Nieves’s reluctance to sanction them? Who, who knows you as I do, would believe it? “No one, hell no one; because I don’t believe it either; but why, with or without plans, has this obstacle gotten in my way here? Why haven’t things gone their own way? ” “And how could you have wanted them to be more self-explanatory, Don Alejandro? They found each other without seeking each other; they met without intending to; they understood each other without explaining themselves… Yes, it even seems providential, man! Believe it or not. ” “I wasn’t referring to those formalities or that matter, but to the fact that the other, if it didn’t work out, would have dissolved here for the better and by mutual consent, without the slightest alteration in our life and customs. That’s what I wanted, and not this unexpected complication that turns everything upside down. Because there’s no need to dream of uprooting the idea: it’s deeply rooted; it grips you body and soul.” And considering your character, so wholesome, so balanced, and firm! Who the hell would have thought you’d give her away? “But, man, anyone who heard you would think Nieves had her eyes on some outlaw… Damn it! Give Leto the Mexican’s money, and see if there’s a better place than that for an unmarried girl in the entire known world… And since you’re poor, thank God!” “That’s not it, Señor Don Claudio, exactly… Look: for now , she’s still a child… ” “Even so, you were willing for your cousin to take her. ” “Or you wouldn’t take her, Señor Don Claudio, even supposing my plans had prospered; because between agreeing to it and carrying it out, there might be another trip back to Mexico, which isn’t right at our doorstep; and with one set of delays and another, and the two of us so far apart, a year flies.” while this other mess is unbearable… –Is she in such a hurry, Don Alejandro? –None: if she wanted to, from what I understand, she would spend her whole life like this… and I believe it; but how can you leave things like this, with the two of us in constant contact?… –Certainly… –Well, I go back to what I said: she’s still a little girl… and to tell God that on the first flight… from the nest to the branch, as if to say… bang! –And what, falling, as she does, on a soft surface? Are you sure that on the third or fourth… or twentieth flight, after being immersed in the thickets of the world, and with more years and more appetites under her belt, she would have fallen better? –Besides, man, what a mess! just when I was beginning to revel in her, newly educated with so many precautions and so much care… –And, by chance, they steal her from your home to take you out into the world… to Mexico, for example, where you won’t see her again for many years… or perhaps never? If even on that score you win in this new move; for far from being left without your only daughter, you acquire another son, to accompany you, love you, and venerate you… Ah, damn it, if I were in your shoes! How many times have I said it to myself and would I have said it to you, authorized to do so, as I am now, since I have been following this lawsuit closely and have studied the proceedings with interest; if I were in your shoes!…. –What would you do in that case? –Well, I would do… what the devil! the same thing you are going to do, only I would have done it from the moment I noticed the first symptom of what you call your daughter’s illness. –But, man, yes, by being wrong in everything since I arrived in Peleches so stuffed with illusions, even the maxim that I considered infallible has failed me. –What maxim? –That one about pure airs… What I’ve aired it! –Come on, Señor Don Alejandro: today you’re not doing well, and you see everything backwards. To say that the maxim has failed you when it has just been fulfilled to the letter! What nobler or better- placed thoughts do you want in a woman than those that have infused Nieves with the airs of Villavieja? –But they’re not the ones she brought with her from Seville. –Pinned together, and not so good; then here they’ve improved and taken root. If there’s no escape, Don Alejandro; and even if there was, by golly! For the well-being of a daughter, they’d swallow bombs with fuses, let alone trifles like that maxim, which is not an article of faith, much less among Christians… And tell me now, with all frankness and speaking with perfect seriousness, since when have you felt such strong temptations to compromise? Because last night you were as hard as a rock. –Since last night; since I heard poor Don Adrián. The compassion I felt for him, and why deny it? What I learned from him listening to him, cleared a lot of the clouds in my head, and I was thus able to see and appreciate things with greater serenity. Then, truth be told, the act of your son, related by Nieves this morning; the reflections this has brought me to, so profound, so complex!… Anyway, man, what further nonsense do we have to go to? I assure you that if it weren’t for the annoyance of this long-drawn-out old commitment and the fear that my poor sister Lucrecia, who’s so fat she’s overpowering , might explode with displeasure… –That, Señor Don Alejandro, is taking scruples to the point of incredible truth; and, if you push me a little, even meddling with God’s designs… Let’s put aside these trivial or sinful obstacles; and tell me, taking things where circumstances and God’s will have undoubtedly placed them, does Nieves know about these good dispositions of yours? –Know them, no; but I can count on them, for sure. “Well, the girl is a fool, and she hasn’t really studied me! And what kind of face will the other one make?” “The one from Mexico? ” “No, the one from here. ” “The one from here! Leto?” “My lord Don Alejandro, can you imagine the face a saint will make upon entering eternal glory? Well, in the proper proportion between the celestial and the noblest of the earthly, that will be the face Don Adrián’s son will make when he realizes the mountains are leveling for him. ” “And Don Adrián, since you mention him, how will he take it? ” “He must frighten you more in this case than Doña Lucrecia. If you take him at the level of his love for you and his admiration for Nieves, woe betide us! But we shouldn’t dwell on this qualm either: death from overindulgence of happiness is enviable. ” “Do you think it would be appropriate to make peace with them by eating together here?” “Sooner rather than later. ” “Tomorrow.” “I would start with some preliminaries tonight.” “No, sir: tonight, and even this afternoon, I need them to negotiate with Nieves and reach a complete agreement between us. ” “That seems fine; but in any case, I claim for myself the highest honor and the regal delight of being the messenger of such good news in the pharmacy . I have given such bitter news to two excellent friends these last few days!” ” Granted with all my heart. ” “Then seal my credentials with a handshake. ” “There goes mine, and my heart with it. ” “A hug too. ” “And hold them tight, baskets!… and one for each of them, at a good price. ” “They will be faithfully and honestly transmitted… This is fattening, Señor Don Alejandro… ” “Yes, Señor Don Claudio; and may God reward you for your share of this good news I receive. What days these past! What nights!” “Who thinks of such trifles anymore?” Now, you go bring poor Nieves back to life , and I’ll go to the pharmacy with the good news. I wish I had wings to fly from here. “Wait a moment… Find out about that letter I’ve had in my pocket since yesterday afternoon: the one that started the storm. ” “Nacho…” Hello! From the nephew, eh?… Devil!… Devil! This “good origin” is Rufita González… Yes… exactly… the same… Come on, just like that… But, man, did you have this receipt in your possession and were you still doubting?… “What do you think of all this, Señor Don Claudio? ” “Didn’t you just hear me?… Or do you expect it to be given to you in writing?” ” Well, wait a moment.” Don Claudio Fuertes sat down at his desk; he took a pen and paper, and wrote a few lines on a notepad, which he later read to Don Alejandro Bermúdez. They read as follows: “My dear nephew: Given the suspicions you mention in your letter above , it is possible that the lodging reserved for you in his house by the person who brought you the news that gave rise to your fears would be more convenient than the lodging you had and have at your disposal in this house, if you persist in your purpose of coming to Villavieja. You might have changed your mind after considering that you have no right or sufficient authority to ask me the question and reflect on the matters you raise in your aforementioned letter. Your uncle, etc…” “A treat, my friend Don Claudio, a treat!” said Don Alejandro, taking the note from the commander’s hands. “You relieve me of a very tedious task. I will copy it verbatim, and it will go to the post office this very night.” “If you want to increase your chances a little,” Don Claudio responded very seriously, “ask frankly. I think this is more than enough. To those with a good understanding… ” “Then I’ll get going… So, until tonight, Don Alejandro? ” “Well, that’s a good idea. Come back, alone of course, for a little while tonight so I can get the results of your first negotiations. ” “Yes, sir, and to greet Nieves while you’re at it… Gosh! I too am a son of God.” The commander left, and Bermúdez remained in his study for a long time, feeling his torso, smoothing his hair with both hands, taking a deep breath, and moving from side to side; until he stopped and said, putting his hands to his head again: “Well, sir… let’s get to it, and may God bless you!” And he left the study. At the end of “On First Flight,” we witness the transformation of the protagonist, who, with courage and determination, faces the challenges life presents. The story speaks not only of love and maturity, but also of the importance of making decisions that define us. Thus, José María de Pereda leaves us with a reflection on the need to evolve and learn from our own experiences.

¡Bienvenidos a una nueva aventura en el canal Ahora de Cuentos! En esta ocasión, les traemos ‘Al primer vuelo’ de José María de Pereda, una historia que nos sumerge en el mundo de la superación personal y la lucha por alcanzar un sueño. 🌟

🔸 En este relato, seguimos la vida de un joven que, enfrentando grandes obstáculos, se ve impulsado por su deseo de volar. La emoción de un sueño que parece imposible se convierte en una inspiración para quienes buscan alcanzar sus propias metas.

🔸 Acompáñanos a disfrutar de una historia llena de sentimiento, perseverancia y amor por la vida, todo en el estilo único de José María de Pereda.

🔔 ¡No olvides suscribirte al canal para más historias como esta y activar la campanita para no perderte ningún relato! 📚👇

👉 ¡Haz clic aquí para suscribirte a Ahora de Cuentos y disfrutar de muchas más narraciones fascinantes! [https://bit.ly/AhoradeCuentos]
-✈️ Al primer vuelo 🦅 – Un relato de superación y aventura[https://youtu.be/5jBxxdswt7E]
-🔴 La Aventura del Círculo Rojo 🕵️‍♂️ | Sherlock Holmes Resuelve el Misterio [https://youtu.be/Rr3c7CKXgk0]
-Doctor Sutilis (Cuentos) 📚👨‍⚕️ | Leopoldo Alas (Clarín) – ¡Una obra única de la literatura española! [https://youtu.be/Wtx8a8XJ9jQ]

🎧 ¡Escucha el relato completo y déjate llevar por la magia de las palabras! 🎙️

#CuentosDeSuperación #HistoriasDeAventura #LiteraturaClásica #JoséMaríaDePereda #AlPrimerVuelo #NarraciónDeCuentos #Audiolibros #RelatosDeMotivación #SueñosQueSeHacenRealidad #Perseverancia #LuchandoPorElSueño #AventurasLiterarias #CuentosDeÉpoca #EmociónYDesafío #LiteraturaEspañola #JoséMaríaDePereda #SuperaciónPersonal #AlcanzandoMetas #Motivación #HistoriaInspiradora #AhoraDeCuentos

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