The Manuscript Found in Saragossa (75 page)

‘But it seems to me,' she added, ‘that too much trouble was taken to fool the poor husband. One could have misled him more easily. Doubtless the story of die atheist was told to that timid soul, Cornádez, to frighten him even further.'

‘Allow me to draw attention to the fact that your judgement on the adventure which I have had the honour to relate to you is too hasty. The Duke of Arcos was a member of the high nobility, and one might have thought of, or even acted out, certain roles to do him a service, but there is nothing to suggest that the story itself of Hervas's son, which you haven't yet heard, was told to Cornádez for that reason.'

Rebecca assured the gypsy chief that that story itself also interested her deeply. The old man then continued his story as follows:

‘Celia, Zorrilla, what are you doing here? I thought you were in church, and here I find you engaged in a fine form of piety!'

‘But Mama,' said the young girl who was acting as my pillow, ‘didn't you say that good works were meritorious as well as prayer? And isn't it a charitable act to prolong the rest of this poor young man, who must have spent a very unpleasant night?'

‘Certainly,' said a voice which laughed more than it scolded. ‘Certainly, that is very meritorious, and that's a thought which proves your innocence, if it doesn't prove your piety. But now, my charitable Zorrilla, put the young man's head down very gently on the seat and follow me home.'

‘Oh dear Mama!' the young girl replied, ‘look how softly he is sleeping! Rather than wake him up you should help me, Mama, to undo the ruff which is choking him.'

‘Should I indeed?' said their mother. ‘That's a fine task you have given me! But, on closer inspection, doesn't he look very sweet?' At the same time, the mother's hand slipped softly under my chin and undid my ruff.

‘He is even better now,' said Celia, who up till then hadn't spoken, ‘and he is breathing more easily. I can see that there's a sweetness in doing good works.'

‘That remark shows much discernment,' said their mother, ‘but charity must not be taken too far. Come, Zorrilla, put the young man's head back on the seat and let us go.'

Zorrilla slipped her two hands gently under my head and removed her knees. I then thought that there was no longer any point in feigning sleep. I sat up and opened my eyes. The mother let out a cry and the girls wanted to run away. I stopped them.

‘Celia, Zorrilla,' I said. ‘You are as pretty as you are innocent. And as for you, who only look like their mother because your charms have blossomed further, please spare me a few moments before you leave me to enjoy the admiration which all three of you inspire in me.'

What I said to them was true. Celia and Zorrilla would have been perfect beauties if it had not been for their extreme youth and their mother, who was not yet thirty years old, looked as though she had not yet reached her twenty-fifth year.

‘Señor caballero,' said the mother, ‘if you have only been pretending to sleep, you must have been persuaded of the innocence of my daughters and must have formed a good opinion of their mother. I therefore am not afraid of losing reputation in your eyes in asking you to accompany me home. An acquaintance which begins in such a singular fashion seems destined to become closer.'

I followed them. We reached their house, which looked out on to the Prado. The girls went away to preside over the preparation of the chocolate. The mother sat me down beside her and said, ‘You see here a house somewhat better appointed than is appropriate to our present situation. I took it in happier times. Now I would like to sublet the first floor but dare not do so, for circumstances in which I find myself require me to live in strict seclusion.'

‘Señora,' I replied, ‘I also have reason to live a very retired life. And if it suited you, I would willingly come to an agreement about the
cuarto principal
, or best rooms.'

As I spoke, I drew out my purse, and the sight of the gold dispelled any objections the lady might have put to me. I paid three months' rent and board in advance. It was agreed that my dinner would be brought up to my room and that I would be served by a trusty manservant, who would also run errands for me. Zorrilla and Celia were told of the conditions of the agreement when they reappeared with the chocolate, and their eyes seemed to take possession of my person. But those of their mother appeared to lay a rival claim to it. This little battle of coquetry did not escape my notice, but I left the outcome to fate and thought only about settling into my new lodgings.

It was not long before it was furnished with all that could contribute to making it pleasant and convenient for me. At one moment it was Zorrilla bringing me a writing desk; at another Celia came to furnish my table with a lamp or some books. Nothing was forgotten. The two pretty girls came separately, but when they met in my room, endless giggling ensued. The mother also took her turn. She attended to my bed, supplying it with sheets of Dutch linen, a fine silk coverlet and a pile of cushions. These arrangements took up my morning. Noon came; a place was laid for me in my room. I was delighted. It charmed me to see three enchanting persons trying to please me and
vying for a share of my goodwill. But there is a time for everything and I was glad to satisfy my appetite without distraction or disturbance.

So it was that I dined. Then I took my cloak and sword and went out for a walk in town. I had never felt so much pleasure. I was independent, my pockets were full of gold, I was in good health and full of energy and, thanks to the attentions of the three ladies, full also of a high opinion of myself. For it is normal for young men to rate themselves at the value the fair sex sets on them.

I went into a jeweller's shop and bought several jewels. Then I went to the theatre and eventually back to my lodgings. I found the three ladies sitting by the door of their house. Zorrilla was singing and accompanying herself on the guitar. The two others were making
redicilla
, or lace.

‘Señor caballero,' the mother said to me, ‘you have taken lodgings with us and have shown great confidence in us without knowing who we are. But it would be only fitting to tell you. You should know, Señor caballero, that I am called Inés Santarez, widow of Don Juan Santarez, the
corregidor
of Havana. He took me penniless and has left me penniless with two daughters, as you see. I was in great difficulty because of my poverty and widowhood when I unexpectedly received a letter from my father. You will permit me not to name him. Alas! He also had struggled against misfortune all his life, but at last, as his letter informed me, he had found a splendid post as army paymaster. His letter included a remittance of two thousand pistoles and a summons to come to Madrid. So here I came, only to discover that my father had been accused of misappropriation, even high treason, and was being held prisoner in the castle of Segovia. But in the meanwhile this house had been rented for our use. So here I live in strict seclusion, receiving nobody except a young man employed in the war office. He comes to tell me what he is able to find out about my father's trial. Apart from him, no one knows we are related to the hapless prisoner.'

As she uttered these last words, Señora Santarez shed a few tears.

‘Don't cry, Mama,' said Celia, ‘there is an end to everything, and surely there must be an end to our suffering. Already here's a young gentleman with very auspicious looks. Meeting him seems to me to be a favourable omen.'

‘In truth,' said Zorrilla, ‘since he has been here our solitude seems no longer to be joyless.'

Señora Santarez gave me a look in which I detected sadness and affection. The girls looked at me too, lowered their eyes, blushed and became embarrassed and dreamy. So I was loved by three charming persons. This state of affairs seemed delightful to me.

As this was going on, a tall, well-built young man came up to us, took Señora Santarez by the hand, led her a few steps away from us and had a long conversation with her. She then brought him to me and said to me:

‘Señor caballero, this is Don Cristoforo Sparadoz, about whom I have spoken to you, and who is the only man we see in Madrid. I would like to procure for him the benefit of your acquaintance but although we live in the same house I don't know to whom I have the honour of speaking.'

‘Señora,' I said, ‘I am an Asturian of noble birth. My name is Leganez.' I thought that I ought not to mention the name of Hervas, which might be known.

Young Sparadoz looked me up and down arrogantly, and seemed not even to want to acknowledge my presence. We entered the house and Señora Santarez had a collation of fruits and light pastries served. I was still the main centre of attention of the three ladies but I noted that much simpering and many glances were directed at the new arrival. I was hurt by this, and in an attempt to draw all the attention to myself, I was as charming and witty as I was able to be.

At the height of my triumph Don Cristoforo placed his right foot on his left knee and, looking at the sole of his boot, said, ‘In all truth, since the death of Marañon the cobbler, it isn't possible to find a well-made boot in Madrid.' He then looked at me with a sneering and disdainful expression.

Marañon the cobbler was my maternal grandfather, who had brought me up, and I owed the greatest of obligations to him. But he was a blot on my genealogical tree, or so at least I thought. It seemed to me that I would be much diminished in the esteem of the three ladies if they discovered that I had a cobbler for a grandfather. My gaiety vanished altogether. I shot Don Cristoforo glances which were
sometimes angry, sometimes proud and disdainful. I decided to forbid him to set foot in the house.

He left. I followed him, intending to tell him this. I caught up with him at the end of the street and uttered the offensive greeting that I had rehearsed. I thought that he was going to lose his temper, but on the contrary, he assumed a friendly manner, put his hand under my chin as if to caress me but then suddenly jerked me off my feet and kicked me, or rather tripped me, causing me to fall flat on my face in the gutter. I was stunned, and got back to my feet covered with mud. Full of rage, I went back to the house.

The ladies had retired. I went to bed but could not sleep. Two passions, love and hate, kept me awake. The latter was entirely directed at Don Cristoforo, but that was not the case with the love with which my heart was filled. It was not fixed on any one object. Celia, Zorrilla and their mother occupied my thoughts in turn. Their alluring images, which grew confused with each other in my dreams, haunted me for the rest of the night.

I woke late. On opening my eyes, I saw Señora Santarez sitting at the foot of my bed. She seemed to have been weeping.

‘My good young Sir,' she said, ‘I have come to take refuge in your room. There are people upstairs who are asking me for money and I have none to give them. Alas! I am in debt. But did I not have to feed and dress those poor children? They are deprived of enough as it is.'

At this, Señora Santarez began to sob, and her eyes, full of tears, involuntarily turned to my purse, which was next to me on my bedside table. I understood this mute language. I poured out the gold on to the table, made two piles, which I judged to be equal, and presented one to Señora Santarez. She was not expecting this generous gesture. At first she seemed to be petrified by astonishment, then she took my hands and kissed them effusively and pressed them to her heart; finally she picked up the gold, saying, ‘Oh my children, my dear children.'

The girls came in next and kissed my hands. All these expressions of gratitude succeeded in inflaming my blood, which was already burning from my dreams.

I dressed quickly and decided to take the air on one of the house's terraces. As I went by the bedroom of the two girls I heard them
sobbing and tearfully embracing each other. I listened for a moment and then went in.

Celia said to me, ‘Listen, dear, kind guest. You find us in the greatest distress. Since we were born no cloud has cast its shadow on our feelings for each other. We were united by affection, even more than by blood. But that isn't any longer the case since you have been here. Jealousy has crept into our souls, and we might have reached the point of hating each other. Zorrilla's good nature has prevented this terrible calamity. She threw herself into my arms, our tears mingled with each other's and our hearts have grown closer. And now, dear guest, it is for you to complete our reconciliation. Promise us not to love one more than the other, and if you have caresses to distribute, share them equally between us.'

What reply could I give to this heartfelt and pressing invitation? I held them one after the other in my arms. I wiped away their tears and their sadness gave way to playful affection.

We went out together on to the terrace and Señora Santarez came to join us there. The delight at having settled her debts made her drunk with joy. She asked me to dinner and begged me to give the rest of the day to her. Our meal was eaten in an atmosphere of intimacy and trust. The servants were sent away. The two girls waited at table one after the other. Señora Santarez, drained by the emotion she had suffered, drank two glasses of powerful Rotha wine. Her somewhat unfocused eyes shone the more brightly. She became very animated and her daughters came close to feeling jealous again. However, they respected their mother too much for such an idea to cross their minds. But even though her blood, exhilarated by the wine, betrayed her feelings, she was far from engaging in any immodest behaviour.

As for me, conscious thoughts of seduction did not even cross my mind. We were seduced by our age and our difference of sex. The sweet impulses of nature infused our intercourse with an indescribable charm. We found it difficult to take leave of each other. The setting sun would finally have separated us if I had not ordered refreshments from a neighbouring lemonade-seller. We were pleased when they came because they afforded us an excuse to remain in each other's company. All was going well. We had just sat down to table when
Cristoforo Sparadoz appeared. The entry of a French gentleman in the harem of a sultan would not have produced a more disagreeable sensation than that which I experienced on the arrival of Don Cristoforo. Señora Santarez and her daughters were not really my wives, and did not constitute my harem, but my heart had taken possession of these ladies in a certain way and seeing my rights compromised caused me real distress.

Don Cristoforo took no notice either of this or of my person. He greeted the ladies, led Señora Santarez to the end of the terrace and had a long conversation with her, then sat down at table without being invited to do so. He ate, drank and said not a word. But when the conversation turned to bullfighting he pushed away his plate, thumped the table with his fist and said: