This fresh blow was too much for Maldonado; pale already, and tremulous with vexation, he uttered a last cry of despair.

"But _afeard_ is derived from _fear_, gentlemen!"

"Fear or small beer, it is all the same!" exclaimed Cobo, with an insolent peal of laughter. "Confess now that you have put your foot in it, and promise not to do it any more."

Maldonado's disgust and rage knew no bounds. He struggled on a few minutes with incoherent words and gestures; but as the only reply to his energetic protests were laughter and sarcasm, he resigned himself to an att.i.tude of dignity and scorn, chewing the cud of bitterness, his lips quivering, his looks grim, a snort of indignation now and again inflating his nostrils. Cobo remained unmoved, taking every opportunity that offered for shooting a poisoned dart of repartee at the foe, which enchanted the girls and made their elders smile soberly. No one in this world ever hungered and thirsted for justice as did Ramoncito at this moment.

The arrival of another visitor ended, or at any rate, suspended, his torments. The Duke of Requena was announced. His entrance produced an agitation which sufficiently indicated his consequence. Calderon went forward to receive him, offering him both hands with much effusion. All the men rose in haste, and left their seats to meet him with smiles and gestures expressive of the reverence he inspired. The ladies turned their heads to greet him with curiosity and respect, and Pepa Frias rose to shake hands with him. Even Father Ortega deserted his Marquesa and went forward with a submissive and engaging bow, smiling at him with his bright eyes behind the strong spectacles for short sight which he wore.

For a few minutes the only words to be heard in the room were "Senor Duque," "Senor Duque"--"Oh Senor Duque!"

The object of all these attentions was a short, stout man with a lividly-pale face, prominent squinting eyes, white hair, and a grizzled moustache as stiff and harsh as the quills of a porcupine. His lips were thick and mobile, stained by the juice of a cigar which he held, not lighted, between his teeth, incessantly pa.s.sing it from one corner of his mouth to the other. He might be about sixty years of age, more rather than less. He was wrapped in a magnificent loose fur coat, which he had not removed in the ante-room, having a cold. But on setting foot in the little drawing-room, the heat struck him as unpleasant, and hardly replying to the greetings and smiles which hailed him from all sides, he only muttered rudely, in the hoa.r.s.e, thick voice characteristic of men with a short neck: "Poof! a perfect furnace!" And he added a Valencian expletive more vehement than choice. At the same time he unb.u.t.toned his overcoat. Twenty hands were laid on it to help him to take it off, which somewhat hindered the process.

And now, in the Calderon's drawing-room, was repeated the scene which has oftener than any other been performed in this world, of the Israelites in the desert worshipping the Golden Calf. The new-comer was no less a person than Don Antonio Salabert, Duke of Requena--the famous Salabert, the richest of the rich in Spain, one of the colossal figures of finance, and, beyond a doubt, the most famous for the extent and importance of his transactions. He was a native of Valencia. No one had ever heard of his family. Some said he had been a mere waif in the streets; others that he had begun as a footman to some banker, and had risen to be a sort of messenger and errand man, others that he had been an adventurer under Cabrera in the first civil war, and that the origin of his fortunes was a valise full of gold, of which he had robbed a traveller. Some even went so far as to credit him with having belonged to one of the notorious troops of banditti who infested Spain just after the war. He, however, explained the growth of his fortune--which amounted to no less than four hundred millions of reales[B]--in the simplest and most graphic way. When he was angry with any of his clerks--as very frequently happened--and found that they took offence at his gross abuse, he would say to them, shouting like a possessed creature: "Do you know how I came by my money? By taking many a kick behind. Nothing but kicks will ever help you up the ladder. Do you understand?"

It must be confessed that there was something a little vague about this explanation, but the authority with which it was delivered gave it irrefragable value. a.s.suming it as the basis of the inquiry, we might perhaps be able to form a just estimate of the character and the achievements of the wealthy banker.

"Hallo, little lady," said he, going up to Clementina and taking her by the chin as if she were a child. "You here? I did not see your carriage below."

"No, Papa; I came on foot."

"You are a wonder. You can take mine if you like."

"No, I would rather walk. I have been out of spirits lately."

The duke had turned his back on all the company, and was talking to his daughter with as much affability as he was capable of. He rarely saw her. Clementina was his natural daughter, the child of a woman of the lowest type, as he himself had probably been. Afterwards, when he was already beginning to be rich, he had married a young girl of the middle cla.s.s, by whom he had no family. This lady, whose health since her marriage had been extremely delicate, had agreed, or to be exact, had herself proposed that her husband's daughter should come to live with her. Clementina had therefore been brought up at home, and was loved as a daughter by her father's wife, whom she loved and respected as a mother. Since her marriage she had paid her frequent visits; but as her father was always busy, she did not go into his rooms, but left her mother's--for so she called her--only to quit the house. Excepting on days when there was some great dinner or reception, or when she met him by chance in the street or at a friend's house, they never talked together.

After inquiring for her husband and sons, the duke, without sitting down, turned to talk to Calderon and Pepe Frias. He was a man of common and provincial appearance; he rarely smiled, and when he did, it was so faintly as to be hardly perceptible. He was in the habit of calling things by their names, and addressing every one without any formula of courtesy, saying things to their face which might have seemed grossly rude, but that he knew how to give them a tone of friendly bluntness which deprived them of their sting. He was not loquacious; he generally stood silently chewing the end of his cigar and studying his interlocutor with his squinting and impenetrable eyes. When he talked it was with a fact.i.tious and cunning simplicity which was not unattractive, but through it pierced the old man, the Valencian foundling, shrewd, sarcastic, crafty and uncommunicative.

Pepa Frias began to talk of money matters; on this subject the widow was inexhaustible. She wanted to know everything, was afraid of being taken in, always greedy of large profit, and comically terrified at the idea of a depreciation of the Stocks she held. She would have every detail repeated to satiety.

"Should she sell Bank Stock and buy Cubas? What was the Government going to do about entailed estates? She had heard rumours! Would money be dearer at the next settlement? Would it not be better to sell at once, and make thirty centimes, than to wait till the end of the month?"

To her Salabert's words were as the Delphic oracle; the banker's fame acted like a charm. But, unluckily, the Duke--like every oracle, ancient or modern--was wont to answer ambiguously. Often his only reply was a grunt, which might mean a.s.sent, dissent, or doubt; while the words, which now and then made their way between the cigar and his moist, stained lips, were obscure, brief, and frequently unintelligible.

Besides, every one knew that he was not to be trusted, that he loved to put his friends on the wrong track, and see them get a tumble in some bad speculation. Nevertheless, Pepa persisted in hoping to wring from that great mind the secret of the hidden Pactolus, playfully taking him by the lapels of his coat, calling him old fellow, old fox, Sphinx, glorying in her audacity, which amounted to a flirtation. But the banker was not to be cajoled. He humoured her mood, answering her with grunts, or with some coa.r.s.e joke at which Calderon would laugh, though he felt in no laughing mood as he noted the frequency of the duke's expectorations on his carpet; for the munching of his cigar gave rise to the necessity, and he was not accustomed to note what he was doing.

Calderon was as much irritated, and annoyed as if his visitor had spit in his face. The third time it happened he could contain himself no longer; with his own hands he fetched a spittoon. Salabert gave him a mocking glance and winked at Pepa.

Calderon, now easier in his mind, became quite loquacious, and endeavoured to reply instead of the Duke, and advise Pepa as to her investments; but though he was a man of prudence and experience in such matters, the widow did not value his counsels, nor would she listen to them. When all was said and done, there was an enormous gulf between him and Salabert--the one an ordinary stock-broker, the other a genius of banking. The Duke, no doubt, a.s.sented inarticulately to the opinions of the master of the house, but Pepa would none of them.

Salabert presently left them to themselves, and seated himself on the arm of a chair in a lounging att.i.tude, which he alone would have ventured on. Instead of being disliked for his coa.r.s.e rudeness, his bad manners contributed not a little to his prestige and to the idolatrous reverence which was paid him in society. Having left the spittoon behind him, he again expectorated on the carpet with a malicious pleasure which was visible through his imperturbable mask of good humour. Calderon on his part frowned gloomily once more, till at length, with a heroic determination to ignore the conventionalities, he once more fetched the spittoon, but less boldly than before, for he only pushed it along with his foot. Pepa, meanwhile, seated herself on the other arm, and went on coaxing the Duke till at last he paid more attention to her. He glanced at her several times from head to foot, dwelling with satisfaction on her figure, which was round and shapely. Altogether Pepa was a fresh-looking and attractive woman. In a few minutes the banker leaned over her without much delicacy, and, putting his face so close to hers, that he almost seemed to touch her cheek with his lips, he said in a whisper:

"Have you many Osunas?"

"A few--yes----"

"Sell at once."

Pepa looked him straight in the eyes, and, taking the advice as meant, she said no more. A few minutes later it was she who put her face across to the banker's, and asked him mysteriously:

"And what shall I buy?"

"Entailed estate," he replied in the same tone.

Just now a lady and gentleman came in, a young couple, both under the middle height, smiling, and lively.

"Here are my young people," said Pepa.

They were, in fact, a pleasing pair; well matched, with attractive, candid faces, and so young that they really looked like a couple of children. They shook hands with every one in turn, and every face beamed with the affectionate protecting feeling which they could not fail to inspire.

"Here is your mother-in-law, Emilio. What a vexatious meeting, eh?" said Pepa to the young man.

"Mother-in-law! No, no. Mamma, mamma," replied he, pressing her hand affectionately.

"Heaven reward you!" replied the lady, with a comical sigh of grat.i.tude.

Once more the company settled into their seats. The young couple sat down by the mistress of the house. Clementina had left her seat, and was talking to Maldonado; Pepe Castro's name recurred frequently in their conversation. Meanwhile Cobo was improving the opportunity, and making Pacita laugh with his impertinence; but although he hoped that Esperanza might receive his jests with equal favour, this was not the case. The young lady was grave and absent-minded, and evidently trying to overhear what Ramoncito and Clementina were saying; Pinedo had remained standing, and was doing the civil to the Duke; and the General, seeing his adored one in eager conversation with the new comers--tired, too, of finding that his elaborately disguised compliments were not understood, nor even his poetical allusions--followed his example. The Marquesa and the priest still sat whispering vehemently to each other in a corner, she more and more humble and insinuating, sitting at the very edge of her chair, and bending forward to make herself heard; he every minute more grave and rigid, closing his eyes from time to time as if he were in the confessional.

"What a pair of babies!" said Pepa to Mariana, alluding to the young couple. "Is it not a shame to think of such children being married? How much better they would be playing with their tops!"

The young people in question laughed, and looked lovingly at each other.

"They play with them still, at spare moments," said Cobo Ramirez in a childish squeak.

"Don't talk nonsense!" cried Pepa, turning on him fiercely. "Have they told you what they play at?"

Cobo and Mariana exchanged a significant look. Irenita, the young wife, coloured deeply.

"You are growing old, Pepa. Remember you are a grandmother," said Mariana.

"And such a grandmother!" exclaimed Cobo in an undertone, intended to be heard only by the lady concerned. She glanced at him, half smiling and half vexed, showing that she had heard, and was on the whole pleased.

Cobo affected innocence.

"Is your quarrel over?" said the widow, turning to her children. "And how long will peace last? Mercy, what a squabbling pair. Look here, I will go to your house no more, for when I find you sulking I long to take a broomstick and break it over your shoulders."

The whole company turned round to look at the husband and wife, who were smiling beatifically. This time they both blushed. But in spite of the gravity which remained stamped on Emilio's features, it was clear that his mother-in-law's free and easy sallies did not altogether displease him.

General Patino, at Senora de Calderon's request, pressed the b.u.t.ton of an electric bell. A servant came in to whom his mistress gave a sign, and five minutes later he reappeared with two others, carrying trays with cups, tea, cakes and biscuits. There was a stir of satisfaction; a change of att.i.tude in all the party, and the sparkle in their eyes of the animal pleased to satisfy a craving of nature. Esperanza hastened to leave her friend and Ramirez, and proceeded to help her mother in the task of pouring out tea for the company. Ramoncito took advantage of the moment when the young girl offered him a cup, to observe in an aside that he was much surprised at her finding any pleasure in listening to the nonsensical or unseemly speeches of Cobo Ramirez. Esperanza looked at him somewhat abashed, but she replied that she had heard no nonsense; that Cobo was very pleasant and amiable. Ramoncito, in his lowest and most pathetic tones, protested against such an opinion, and persisted in running down his friend, till Cobo's suspicions were aroused, and he came up, jesting as usual. On this our ill.u.s.trious deputy grew sullen once more, and drew in his horns; it only remained for Cobo to bring out some piece of insulting nonsense to turn the laugh against his rival.

This was the moment for discussing literature; a stage which always supervenes in every afternoon or evening party in Madrid. General Patino mentioned a new play which had just been brought out with great success, and raised some objections to it, chiefly on the ground of certain scenes being too highly coloured. Mariana declared that on no account, then, would she go to see it; and all agreed in anathematising the immorality which nowadays is the delight of play-writers. Naturalism was becoming a curse. Cobo Ramirez, who had taken tea and then more tea, and had eaten a fabulous quant.i.ty of sandwiches and biscuits, told the company that he had lately read a novel ent.i.tled "Le Journal d'une Dame"--in French of course--which was precious, charming, the most delightful thing he had ever read. For in literature Cobo--strange to say--was all for refinement, spirituality and delicacy. It was of no use to talk to him of those dreary books which dwell on the number of times a bricklayer stretches himself when he gets out of bed--or of biscuits and cakes a young gentleman can eat at afternoon tea--or describe the birth of a child and other such horrors. Novels ought to deal with pleasant things since they are written to give pleasure. And all this he p.r.o.nounced with decision, snorting like a war-horse as he talked. All the audience agreed with him.

But this literary lecture was prematurely cut short by the arrival of another visitor, a man, neither tall nor short, nor stout nor thin, square shouldered and dapper, sallow, and wearing a black beard so thick and curly that it looked like a false one. This was no less a personage than the Minister of Public Works, a member of the Cabinet. He carried his head so high that the back of it was almost lost between his shoulders, and his half-closed eyes flashed self-confident and patronising gleams from between his long black lashes. Till the age of two-and-twenty he had carried his head as nature intended; but from the day when he had been made vice-president of the section of Civil and Canon Law in the Academy of Jurisprudence, he had begun to hold it higher and higher, by slow and majestic degrees, as the moon rises over the sea on the stage at the opera-house, that is to say by slight and frequent jerks with a rope. He was elected a provincial member--a little jerk; then deputy to the Cortes--another little jerk; Governor of a district, and another little jerk; Director General of a department--another; President of the Committee of Ways and Means--another; Member of the Cabinet--yet another. But now the rope was at an end. If they had made him heir to the throne, Jimenez Arbos could not have held his large head a tenth of an inch higher.

His entrance on the scene produced some little sensation, but not such as that of the Duke of Requena. He, whose puffy, sensual face could not conceal the scorn he felt for the a.s.sembly, nevertheless hurried to greet him with a deference and servility which amazed every one, all the more by comparison with the rough discourtesy he usually displayed in social intercourse. The Minister, on his part, distributed hand-shakings with an air of abstraction which was positively offensive. It was only when he greeted Pepa Frias that he showed any signs of animation. The widow asked him in a familiar tone:

"How is it that you are in evening dress?"

"I am on my way to dine at the French Emba.s.sy."

"And then home?"