"Of Don Juan Rey's son?"

"From the moment I first set eyes on him at the station at Villahorrenda, and he spoke to me with his honeyed voice and his mincing manners," declared Licurgo, "I thought him a great--I will not say what, through respect for the mistress. But I knew him--I put my mark upon him from that moment, and I make no mistakes. A thread shows what the ball is, as the saying goes; a sample tells what the cloth is, and a claw what the lion is."

"Let no one speak ill of that unhappy young man in my presence," said Senora de Polentinos severely. "No matter how great his faults may be, charity forbids our speaking of them and giving them publicity."

"But charity," said Don Inocencio, with some energy, "does not forbid us protecting ourselves against the wicked, and that is what the question is. Since character and courage have sunk so low in unhappy Orbajosa; since our town appears disposed to hold up its face to be spat upon by half a dozen soldiers and a corporal, let us find protection in union among ourselves."

"I will protect myself in whatever way I can," said Dona Perfecta resignedly, clasping her hands. "G.o.d's will be done!"

"Such a stir about nothing! By the Lord! In this house they are all afraid of their shadows," exclaimed Caballuco, half seriously, half jestingly. "One would think this Don Pepito was a legion of devils.

Don't be frightened, senora. My little nephew Juan, who is thirteen, will guard the house, and we shall see, nephew for nephew, which is the best man."

"We all know already what your boasting and bragging signify," replied Dona Perfecta. "Poor Ramos! You want to pretend to be very brave when we have already had proof that you are not worth any thing."

Ramos turned slightly pale, while he fixed on Dona Perfecta a strange look in which terror and respect were blended.

"Yes, man; don't look at me in that way. You know already that I am not afraid of bugaboos. Do you want me to speak plainly to you now? Well, you are a coward."

Ramos, moving about restlessly in his chair, like one who is troubled with the itch, seemed greatly disturbed. His nostrils expelled and drew in the air, like those of a horse. Within that ma.s.sive frame a storm of rage and fury, roaring and destroying, struggled to escape. After stammering a few words and muttering others under his breath, he rose to his feet and bellowed:

"I will cut off the head of Senor Rey!"

"What folly! You are as brutal as you are cowardly," said Dona Perfecta, turning pale. "Why do you talk about killing? I want no one killed, much less my nephew--a person whom I love, in spite of his wickedness."

"A homicide! What an atrocity!" exclaimed Don Inocencio, scandalized.

"The man is mad!"

"To kill! The very idea of killing a man horrifies me, Caballuco," said Dona Perfecta, closing her mild eyes. "Poor man! Ever since you have been wanting to show your bravery, you have been howling like a ravening wolf. Go away, Ramos; you terrify me."

"Doesn't the mistress say she is afraid? Doesn't she say that they will attack the house; that they will carry off the young lady?"

"Yes, I fear so."

"And one man is going to do that," said Ramos contemptuously, sitting down again, "Don Pepe Poquita Cosa, with his mathematics, is going to do that. I did wrong in saying I would slit his throat. A doll of that kind one takes by the ear and ducks in the river."

"Yes, laugh now, you fool! It is not my nephew alone who is going to commit the outrages you have mentioned and which I fear; if it were he alone I should not fear him. I would tell Librada to stand at the door with a broom--and that would be sufficient. It is not he alone, no!"

"Who then?"

"Pretend you don't understand! Don't you know that my nephew and the brigadier who commands that accursed troop have been confabulating?"

"Confabulating!" repeated Caballuco, as if puzzled by the word.

"That they are bosom friends," said Licurgo. "Confabulate means to be like bosom friends. I had my suspicions already of what the mistress says."

"It all amounts to this--that the brigadier and the officers are hand and glove with Don Jose, and what he wants those brave soldiers want; and those brave soldiers will commit all kinds of outrages and atrocities, because that is their trade."

"And we have no alcalde to protect us."

"Nor judge."

"Nor governor. That is to say that we are at the mercy of that infamous rabble."

"Yesterday," said Vejarruco, "some soldiers enticed away Uncle Julian's youngest daughter, and the poor thing was afraid to go back home; they found her standing barefooted beside the old fountain, crying and picking up the pieces of her broken jar."

"Poor Don Gregorio Palomeque, the notary of Naharilla Alta!" said Frasquito. "Those rascals robbed him of all the money he had in his house. And all the brigadier said, when he was told about it, was it was a lie."

"Tyrants! greater tyrants were never born," said the other. "When I say that it is through punctilio that I am not with the Aceros!"

"And what news is there of Francisco Acero?" asked Dona Perfecta gently.

"I should be sorry if any mischance were to happen to him. Tell me, Don Inocencio, was not Francisco Acero born in Orbajosa?"

"No; he and his brother are from Villajuan."

"I am sorry for it, for Orbajosa's sake," said Dona Perfecta. "This poor city has fallen into misfortune. Do you know if Francisco Acero gave his word to the governor not to trouble the poor soldiers in their abductions, in their impious deeds, in their sacrilegious acts, in their villanies?"

Caballuco sprang from his chair. He felt himself now not stung, but cut to the quick by a cruel stroke, like that of a sabre. With his face burning and his eyes flashing fire he cried:

"I gave my word to the governor because the governor told me that they had come for a good purpose."

"Barbarian, don't shout! Speak like other people, and we will listen to you."

"I promised that neither I nor any of my friends would raise guerillas in the neighborhood of Orbajosa. To those who wanted to take up arms because they were itching to fight I said: 'Go to the Aceros, for here we won't stir.' But I have a good many honest men, yes, senora; and true men, yes, senora; and valiant men, yes, senora; scattered about in the hamlets and villages and in the suburbs and the mountains, each in his own house, eh? And so soon as I say a quarter of a word to them, eh?

they will be taking down their guns, eh? and setting out on horseback or on foot, for whatever place I tell them. And don't keep harping on words, for if I gave my word it was because I don't wish to fight; and if I want guerillas there will be guerillas; and if I don't there won't, for I am who I am, the same man that I always was, as every one knows very well. And I say again don't keep harping on words, eh? and don't let people say one thing to me when they mean another, eh? and if people want me to fight, let them say so plainly, eh? for that is what G.o.d has given us tongues for, to say this thing or that. The mistress knows very well who I am, as I know that I owe to her the shirt on my back, and the bread I eat to-day, and the first pea I sucked after I was weaned, and the coffin in which my father was buried when he died, and the medicines and the doctor that cured me when I was sick; and the mistress knows very well that if she says to me, 'Caballuco, break your head,' I will go there to the corner and dash it against the wall; the mistress knows very well that if she tells me now that it is day, although I see that it is night, I will believe that I am mistaken, and that it is broad day; the mistress knows very well that she and her interests are for me before my own life, and that if a mosquito stings her in my presence, I pardon it, because it is a mosquito; the mistress knows very well that she is dearer to me than all there is besides under the sun. To a man of heart like me one says, 'Caballuco, you stupid fellow, do this or do that.' And let there be an end to sarcasms, and beating about the bush, and preaching one thing and meaning another, and a stab here and a pinch there."

"There, man, calm yourself," said Dona Perfecta kindly. "You have worked yourself into a heat like those republican orators who came here to preach free religion, free love, and I don't know how many other free things. Let them bring you a gla.s.s of water."

Caballuco, twisting his handkerchief into a ball, wiped with it his broad forehead and his neck, which were bathed in perspiration. A gla.s.s of water was brought to him and the worthy canon, with a humility that was in perfect keeping with his sacerdotal character, took it from the servant's hand to give it to him himself, and held the plate while he drank. Caballuco gulped down the water noisily.

"Now bring another gla.s.s for me, Senora Librada," said Don Inocencio. "I have a little fire inside me too."

CHAPTER XXII

"DESPERTA!"

"With regard to the guerillas," said Dona Perfecta, when they had finished drinking, "all I will say is--do as your conscience dictates to you."

"I know nothing about dictations," cried Ramos. "I will do whatever the mistress pleases!"

"I can give you no advice on so important a matter," answered Dona Perfecta with the cautiousness and moderation which so well became her.

"This is a very serious business, and I can give you no advice about it."

"But your opinion----"

"My opinion is that you should open your eyes and see, that you should open your ears and hear. Consult your own heart--I will grant that you have a great heart. Consult that judge, that wise counsellor, and do as it bids you."