Part 5 (1/2)
The Biscayan and Roberto, the blond student, opposed this campaign of espionage. The Superman, the priest, the salesmen and the women of the establishment made up that the Biscayan and the student were allies of Don Telmo, and, in all probability, accomplices in the Malasana Street crime.
”Without a doubt,” averred the Superman, ”Don Telmo killed Dona Celsa Nebot; the Biscayan poured oil over the body and set it afire, and Roberto hid the jewels in the house on Amaniel Street.”
”That cold bird!” replied Celia. ”What could he do?”
”Nothing, nothing. We must keep on their track,” said the curate.
”And get some money out of that old Shylock,” added the Superman.
This espionage, carried on half in joke and half in all seriousness, wound up in debates and disputes, and as a result two groups were formed in the house; that of the Sensible folk, comprised by the three criminals and the landlady, and that of the Foolish, in which were enrolled all the rest.
This limitation of sides forced Roberto and Don Telmo into intimacy, so that the student changed his place at the table and sat next to the old man.
One night, after eating, while Manuel was removing the service, the plates and the cups, Don Telmo and Roberto were engaged in conversation.
The student was a dogmatic reasoner, dry, rectilinear, never swerving from his point of view; he spoke but little, but when he did speak, it was in a sententious manner.
One day, discussing whether or not young men should be ambitious and look to the future, Roberto a.s.serted that the first was the proper course.
”Well, that isn't what you're doing,” commented the Superman.
”I am absolutely convinced,” replied Roberto, ”that some day I'm going to be a millionaire. I am engaged in constructing the machinery that will bring me a fortune.”
The Superman posed as a man of the world who had seen many things; upon hearing this he permitted himself a scoffing remark concerning Roberto's ability, and the youth retorted in so violent and aggressive a manner that the journalist lost his composure and blurted out a string of apologies.
Afterwards, when Don Telmo and Roberto were left alone at the table, they continued talking, and from the general theme as to whether young folk should or should not be ambitious, they pa.s.sed on to the student's hopes of some day being a millionaire.
”I'm convinced that I shall be one,” said the boy. ”In my family there have been a number of individuals with great luck.”
”That's all very well, Roberto,” muttered the old man. ”But one must know how to become wealthy.”
”Don't imagine that my hope is illusory; I'm going to inherit, and not a small amount, either; I'm heir to a vast sum ... millions.... The foundations of my work and the framework are already completed; all I need now is money.”
Don Telmo's countenance was crossed by an expression of disagreeable surprise.
”Don't worry,” replied Roberto, ”I'm not going to ask you for it.”
”My dear boy, if I had it, I'd give it to you with pleasure, and free of interest. They think I'm a millionaire.”
”No. I tell you I'm not trying to get a centimo from you. All I ask is a bit of advice.”
”Speak, then, speak. I'm all attention,” answered the old man, resting an elbow upon the table.
Manuel, who was taking off the tablecloth, c.o.c.ked his ears.
At that juncture one of the salesmen entered the dining-room, and Roberto, who was about to say something, grew silent and looked impertinently at the intruder. The student was an aristocratic type with blond hair, thick and combed back, and moustache of glittering white, like silver; his skin was somewhat tanned by the sun.
”Won't you continue?” asked Don Telmo.
”No,” answered the student, staring at the salesman. ”For I don't want anybody to hear what I have to say.”
”Come to my room, then,” replied Don Telmo. ”There we can talk undisturbed. We'll have coffee up in my room. Manuel!” he ordered.