Part 16 (1/2)
I confess I felt disturbed. I understood that the depths of my soul were next to be sounded, and trembled, perceiving that this transcendent critic was disposed to exercise his scalpel on me.
”Tss! Sailors think little of that. Our life is incompatible with family pleasures.”
”Sailors, when they arrive at a certain comfortable condition and have reached an independent position like you, have the right to retire peacefully and enjoy a comfortable life,” he replied with the gravity and firmness which marked every utterance that came out of his mouth.
How did he know that I had reached an independent position? Solely by his marvellous intuition, for I had given n.o.body an account of the state of my affairs. I admired such tremendous penetration from the bottom of my heart, and was humbly disposed to find out how much more he knew about me.
Sabas meditated several minutes. And while he meditated, sucking his pipe, his cheeks sunk in a supernatural manner. The energy that he expended upon that tobacco smoke was such that I was persuaded he must be swallowing it.
At the same time the intensity of his reflections influenced in like manner the secretion of his salivary glands.
”Why should you not marry my cousin Isabelita?” he said to me suddenly, with that brusque and peremptory accent which characterizes men who rule their kind by their power of thought.
Isabelita was walking on with Matilde in front of us. I grew pale, fearing she might have heard these serious words, and frightened and confused, murmured some incoherent words.
”Yes,” proceeded the critic, ”my cousin is a very nice girl, very modest, and more, she admires you extremely.”
”Admires me!” I exclaimed, amazed. ”And for what does she admire me?” I asked candidly.
Sabas laughed noisily, coughed, and got rid of his nicotine.
”She will tell you that when you are alone with her, hand in hand.”
”You do not understand me,” I returned, nettled. ”What I wish to say is that I do not see anything in myself to be admired by anybody. And as for Isabelita, I have always believed that she had dedicated all of her admiration to Castell.”
”That is nothing special. A man with eight million pesetas is an admirable being. But the admiration, in this case, will not bring any practical result. All the world knows that Castell keeps the mother of his children, and no young lady of good family thinks of him. With you the case is different; it would be possible for it to be quickly carried to a satisfactory solution; and my opinion is that you ought to leave your steamboat and try at once for this elegant craft. Isabelita is sensible, modest, well-educated, diligent; she is accustomed to the strict economy of a house where they turn a dollar over a hundred times before parting with it; an only child, and heiress of all her father's money. And my Uncle Retamoso owns more than people imagine. Who ever can tell exactly how much money a Galician has? Probably while he lives you would not have a right of five centimes; but what does that matter to you? In the first years of marriage you can keep yourself well enough on your capital, and when necessities grow greater, and certain additional things become necessary, you can make a raise on your prospects as his son-in-law, enough to carry you over until a certain joyful event----”
Other wise reflections poured like busy and knowing bees from the mouth of that extraordinary man. In my life seemed gathered together all the loose ends of existence, all its aims fulfilled, and the quintessence of human relations extracted.
While my future was thus being discussed, although I found myself embarra.s.sed by the new perspective offered to my view, I had, none the less, enough largeness of mind to admire the logic of his discourse, his surprising wealth of figures, richness of diction, turns of expression, subtle and logical distinctions, and the perfect links of his chain of reasoning. The breathing world, I believe, held no secrets from this man, and the mechanism of his reasoning worked with the exactness of a chronometer.
When we reached the cottage and were seated to partake of the refreshment that had been prepared for us, Emilio, who was near me, asked me in an undertone:
”Then it is decided that you are going to leave us to-morrow?”
”There is no help for it. The boat is due any moment now.”
”What a pity!” he exclaimed in a melancholy tone; and placing one hand affectionately on my shoulder he added: ”Do you know, you rascal, that we are getting used to you!”
I was moved by his words, and more yet by the cloud of sadness that darkened his cheerful, sympathetic face. I kept silence. He did the same. Throwing himself back in his chair, he remained unlike himself, thoughtful and melancholy. At last he turned to me and said, almost in my ear:
”If you would take my advice you would give up your sea-faring life, which, say what you will, is a little risky, and marry and settle down.
Why be always alone? Do you never think of old age, and how sad it would be to pa.s.s the last years of your life in the power of self-seekers, without children to make bright your home, without a wife who of herself brings order and comfort?”
”But I am an old fellow already,” I answered smiling, but sad in the depths of my soul, ”I am thirty-six years old.”
”That is a good age for a man. And then, by your looks and strength and suppleness, you are only a boy. I know,” he added, casting a mischievous glance towards the place where Isabelita was, ”a girl of eighteen Aprils who would marry you in preference to all the young bucks of the city.”
”Bah! this girl would laugh if you should propose to her a man double her age.”
”Don't you believe it! Because you know it already, I will tell you in confidence that Isabelita admires you.”