CHAPTER XIX
A TERRIBLE BATTLE-STRATEGY
The opening of hostilities could not long be delayed. When the hour ofdinner arrived, after coming to an agreement with Pinzon regarding theplan to be pursued, the first condition of which was that the friendsshould pretend not to know each other, Pepe Rey went to the dining-room.There he found his aunt, who had just returned from the cathedral whereshe had spent the morning as was her habit. She was alone, and appearedto be greatly preoccupied. The engineer observed that on that pale andmarble-like countenance, not without a certain beauty, there resteda mysterious shadow. When she looked up it recovered its sinistercalmness, but she looked up seldom, and after a rapid examination of hernephew's countenance, that of the amiable lady would again take on itsstudied gloom.
They awaited dinner in silence. They did not wait for Don Cayetano, forhe had gone to Mundogrande. When they sat down to table Dona Perfectasaid:
"And that fine soldier whom the Government has sent us, is he not comingto dinner?"
"He seems to be more sleepy than hungry," answered the engineer, withoutlooking at his aunt.
"Do you know him?"
"I have never seen him in all my life before."
"We are nicely off with the guests whom the Government sends us. We havebeds and provisions in order to keep them ready for those vagabonds ofMadrid, whenever they may choose to dispose of them."
"There are fears of an insurrection," said Pepe Rey, with sudden heat,"and the Government is determined to crush the Orbajosans--to crushthem, to grind them to powder."
"Stop, man, stop, for Heaven's sake; don't crush us!" cried DonaPerfecta sarcastically. "Poor we! Be merciful, man, and allow us unhappycreatures to live. And would you, then, be one of those who would aidthe army in the grand work of crushing us?"
"I am not a soldier. I will do nothing but applaud when I see the germsof civil war; of insubordination, of discord, of disorder, of robbery,and of barbarism that exist here, to the shame of our times and of ourcountry, forever extirpated."
"All will be as God wills."
"Orbajosa, my dear aunt, has little else than garlic and bandits; forthose who in the name of some political or religious idea set out insearch of adventures every four or five years are nothing but bandits."
"Thanks, thanks, my dear nephew!" said Dona Perfecta, turning pale. "SoOrbajosa has nothing more than that? Yet there must be something elsehere--something that you do not possess, since you have come to look forit among us."
Rey felt the cut. His soul was on fire. He found it very difficult toshow his aunt the consideration to which her sex, her rank, and herrelation to himself entitled her. He was on the verge of a violentoutbreak, and a force that he could not resist was impelling him againsthis interlocutor.
"I came to Orbajosa," he said, "because you sent for me; you arrangedwith my father--"
"Yes, yes; it is true," she answered, interrupting him quickly andmaking an effort to recover her habitual serenity. "I do not deny it. Iam the one who is really to blame. I am to blame for your ill-humor, forthe slights you put upon us, for every thing disagreeable that has beenhappening in my house since you entered it."
"I am glad that you are conscious of it."
"In exchange, you are a saint. Must I also go down on my knees to yourgrace and ask your pardon?"
"Senora," said Pepe Rey gravely, laying down his knife and fork, "Ientreat you not to mock me in so pitiless a manner. I cannot meet youon equal ground. All I have said is that I came to Orbajosa at yourinvitation."
"And it is true. Your father and I arranged that you should marryRosario. You came in order to become acquainted with her. I accepted youat once as a son. You pretended to love Rosario--"
"Pardon me," objected Pepe; "I loved and I love Rosario; you pretendedto accept me as a son; receiving me with deceitful cordiality, youemployed from the very beginning all the arts of cunning to thwart meand to prevent the fulfilment of the proposals made to my father; youdetermined from the first day to drive me to desperation, to tire meout; and with smiles and affectionate words on your lips you have beenkilling me, roasting me at the slow fire; you have let loose upon mein the dark and from behind an ambush a swarm of lawsuits; you havedeprived me of the official commission which I brought to Orbajosa; youhave brought me into disrepute in the town; you have had me turned outof the cathedral; you have kept me constantly separated from the chosenof my heart; you have tortured your daughter with an inquisitorialimprisonment which will cause her death, unless God interposes toprevent it."
Dona Perfecta turned scarlet. But the flush of offended pride passedaway quickly, leaving her face of a greenish pallor. Her lips trembled.Throwing down the knife and fork with which she had been eating, sherose swiftly to her feet. Her nephew rose also.
"My God! Holy Virgin of Succor!" she cried, raising both her hands toher head and pressing it between them with the gesture indicative ofdesperation, "is it possible that I deserve such atrocious insults?Pepe, my son, is it you who speak to me in this way? If I have done whatyou say, I am indeed very wicked."
She sank on the sofa and covered her face with her hands. Pepe,approaching her slowly, saw that his aunt was sobbing bitterly andshedding abundant tears. In spite of his conviction he could notaltogether conquer the feeling of compassion which took possession ofhim; and while he condemned himself for his cowardice he felt somethingof remorse for the severity and the frankness with which he had spoken.
"My dear aunt," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder, "if youanswer me with tears and sighs, you will not convince me. Proofs, notemotions, are what I require. Speak to me, tell me that I am mistakenin thinking what I think; then prove it to me, and I will acknowledge myerror."
"Leave me, you are not my brother's son! If you were, you would notinsult me as you have insulted me. So, then, I am an intriguer, anactress, a hypocritical harpy, a domestic plotter?"
As she spoke, Dona Perfecta uncovered her face and looked at her nephewwith a martyr-like expression. Pepe was perplexed. The tears as wellas the gentle voice of his father's sister could not be insignificantphenomena for the mathematician's soul. Words crowded to his lips toask her pardon. A man of great firmness generally, any appeal to hisemotions, any thing which touched his heart, converted him at once intoa child. Weaknesses of a mathematician! It is said that Newton was thesame.
"I will give you the proofs you ask," said Dona Perfecta, motioninghim to a seat beside her. "I will give you satisfaction. You shall seewhether I am kind, whether I am indulgent, whether I am humble. Do youthink that I am going to contradict you; to deny absolutely the acts ofwhich you have accused me? Well, then, no; I do not deny them."
The engineer was astounded.
"I do not deny them," continued Dona Perfecta. "What I deny is the evilintention which you attribute to them. By what right do you undertake tojudge of what you know only from appearances and by conjecture? Have youthe supreme intelligence which is necessary to judge justly the actionsof others and pronounce sentence upon them? Are you God, to know theintentions?"
Pepe was every moment more amazed.
"Is it not allowable at times to employ indirect means to attain a goodand honorable end? By what right do you judge actions of mine that youdo not clearly understand? I, my dear nephew, manifesting a sinceritywhich you do not deserve, confess to you that I have indeed employedsubterfuges to attain a good end, to attain what was at the same timebeneficial to you and to my daughter. You do not comprehend? You lookbewildered. Ah! your great mathematician's and German philosopher'sintellect is not capable of comprehending these artifices of a prudentmother."
"I am more and more astounded every moment," said the engineer.
"Be as astounded as you choose, but confess your barbarity," said thelady, with increasing spirit; "acknowledge your hastiness and yourbrutal conduct toward me in accusing me as you have done. You are ayoung man without any experience or any other knowledge than that whichis derived from books, which teach
nothing about the world or thehuman heart. All you know is how to make roads and docks. Ah, my younggentleman! one does not enter into the human heart through the tunnel ofa railroad, or descend into its depths through the shaft of a mine.You cannot read in the conscience of another with the microscope of anaturalist, nor decide the question of another's culpability measuringideas with a theodolite."
"For God's sake, dear aunt!"
"Why do you pronounce the name of God when you do not believe in him?"said Dona Perfecta, in solemn accents. "If you believed in him, if youwere a good Christian, you would not dare to form evil judgments aboutmy conduct. I am a devout woman, do you understand? I have a tranquilconscience, do you understand? I know what I am doing and why I do it,do you understand?"
"I understand, I understand, I understand!"
"God in whom you do not believe, sees what you do not see and what youcannot see--the intention. I will say no more; I do not wish to enterinto minute explanations, for I do not need to do so. Nor would youunderstand me if I should tell you that I desired to attain my objectwithout scandal, without offending your father, without offending you,without giving cause for people to talk by an explicit refusal--I willsay nothing of all this to you, for you would not understand it, either,Pepe. You are a mathematician. You see what is before your eyes, andnothing more; brute matter and nothing more. You see the effect, and notthe cause. God is the supreme intention of the world. He who does notknow this must necessarily judge things as you judge them--foolishly.In the tempest, for instance, he sees only destruction; in theconflagration, ruin; in the drought, famine; in the earthquake,desolation; and yet, arrogant young man, in all those apparentcalamities we are to seek the good intentions--yes, senor, theintention, always good, of Him who can do nothing evil."
This confused, subtle, and mystic logic did not convince Pepe Rey; buthe did not wish to follow his aunt in the tortuous path of such a methodof reasoning, and he said simply:
"Well, I respect intentions."
"Now that you seem to recognize your error," continued the pious lady,with ever-increasing confidence, "I will make another confession to you,and that is that I see now that I did wrong in adopting the courseI did, although my object was excellent. In view of your impetuousdisposition, in view of your incapacity to comprehend me, I should havefaced the situation boldly and said to you, 'Nephew, I do not wish thatyou should be my daughter's husband.'"
"That is the language you should have used to me from the beginning,"said the engineer, drawing a deep breath, as if his mind had beenrelieved from an enormous weight. "I am greatly obliged to you for thosewords. After having been stabbed in the dark, this blow on the face inthe light of day is a great satisfaction to me."
"Well, I will repeat the blow, nephew," declared Dona Perfecta, with asmuch energy as displeasure. "You know it now--I do not wish you to marryRosario!"
Pepe was silent. There was a long pause, during which the two regardedeach other attentively, as if the face of each was for the other themost perfect work of art.
"Don't you understand what I have said to you?" she repeated. "Thatevery thing is at an end, that there is to be no marriage."
"Permit me, dear aunt," said the young man, with composure, "not to beterrified by the intimation. In the state at which things have arrivedyour refusal has little importance for me."
"What are you saying?" cried Dona Perfecta violently.
"What you hear. I will marry Rosario!"
Dona Perfecta rose to her feet, indignant, majestic, terrible. Herattitude was that of anathema incarnated in a woman. Rey remainedseated, serene, courageous, with the passive courage of a profoundconviction and an immovable resolve. The whole weight of his aunt'swrath, threatening to overwhelm him, did not make him move an eyelash.This was his character.
"You are mad. Marry my daughter, you! Marry her against my will!"
Dona Perfecta's trembling lips articulated these words in a truly tragictone.
"Against your will! She is of a different way of thinking."
"Against my will!" repeated Dona Perfecta. "Yes, and I repeat it againand again. I do not wish it, I do not wish it!"
"She and I wish it."
"Fool! Is nothing else in the world to be considered but her and you?Are there not parents; is there not society; is there not a conscience;is there not a God?"
"Because there is society, because there is a conscience, because thereis a God," affirmed Rey gravely, rising to his feet, and pointing withoutstretched arm to the heavens, "I say and I repeat that I will marryher."
"Wretch! arrogant man! And if you would dare to trample every thingunder your feet, do you think there are not laws to prevent yourviolence?"
"Because there are laws, I say and I repeat that I will marry her."
"You respect nothing!"
"Nothing that is unworthy of respect."
"And my authority, my will, I--am I nothing?"
"For me your daughter is every thing--the rest is nothing."
Pepe Rey's composure was, so to say, the arrogant display of invincibleand conscious strength. The blows he gave were hard and crushing intheir force, without any thing to mitigate their severity. His words,if the comparison may be allowed, were like a pitiless discharge ofartillery.
Dona Perfecta sank again on the sofa; but she shed no tears, and aconvulsive tremor agitated her frame.
"So that for this infamous atheist," she exclaimed, with frank rage,"there are no social conventionalities, there is nothing but caprice.This is base avarice. My daughter is rich!"
"If you think to wound me with that treacherous weapon, evading thequestion and giving a distorted meaning to my sentiments in order tooffend my dignity, you are mistaken, dear aunt. Call me mercenary, ifyou choose. God knows what I am."
"You have no dignity!"
"That is an opinion, like any other. The world may hold you to beinfallible. I do not. I am far from believing that from your judgmentsthere is no appeal to God."
"But is what you say true? But do you persist in your purpose, after myrefusal? You respect nothing, you are a monster, a bandit."
"I am a man."
"A wretch! Let us end this at once. I refuse to give my daughter to you;I refuse her to you!"
"I will take her then! I shall take only what is mine."
"Leave my presence!" exclaimed Dona Perfecta, rising suddenly to herfeet. "Coxcomb, do you suppose that my daughter thinks of you?"
"She loves me, as I love her."
"It is a lie! It is a lie!"
"She herself has told me so. Excuse me if, on this point, I put morefaith in her words than in her mother's."
"How could she have told you so, when you have not seen her for severaldays?"
"I saw her last night, and she swore to me before the crucifix in thechapel that she would be my wife."
"Oh, scandal; oh, libertinism! But what is this? My God, what adisgrace!" exclaimed Dona Perfecta, pressing her head again betweenher hands and walking up and down the room. "Rosario left her room lastnight?"
"She left it to see me. It was time."
"What vile conduct is yours! You have acted like a thief; you have actedlike a vulgar seducer!"
"I have acted in accordance with the teachings of your school. Myintention was good."
"And she came down stairs! Ah, I suspected it! This morning at daybreakI surprised her, dressed, in her room. She told me she had gone out,I don't know for what. You were the real criminal, then. This is adisgrace! Pepe, I expected any thing from you rather than an outragelike this. Every thing is at an end! Go away! You are dead to me. Iforgive you, provided you go away. I will not say a word about this toyour father. What horrible selfishness! No, there is no love in you. Youdo not love my daughter!"
"God knows that I love her, and that is sufficient for me."
"Be silent, blasphemer! and don't take the name of God upon your lips!"exclaimed Dona Perfecta. "In the name of God, whom I can invoke, for Ibelieve in him, I tell you that my daug
hter will never be your wife. Mydaughter will be saved, Pepe; my daughter shall not be condemned to aliving hell, for a union with you would be a hell!"
"Rosario will be my wife," repeated the mathematician, with patheticcalmness.
The pious lady was still more exasperated by her nephew's calm energy.In a broken voice she said:
"Don't suppose that your threats terrify me. I know what I am saying.What! are a home and a family to be outraged like this? Are human anddivine authority to be trampled under foot in this way?"
"I will trample every thing under foot," said the engineer, beginning tolose his composure and speaking with some agitation.
"You will trample every thing under foot! Ah! it is easy to see that youare a barbarian, a savage, a man who lives by violence."
"No, dear aunt; I am mild, upright, honorable, and an enemy to violence;but between you and me--between you who are the law and I who am tohonor it--is a poor tormented creature, one of God's angels, subjectedto iniquitous tortures. The spectacle of this injustice, this unheard-ofviolence, is what has converted my rectitude into barbarity; my reasoninto brute force; my honor into violence, like an assassin's or athief's; this spectacle, senora, is what impels me to disregard yourlaw, what impels me to trample it under foot, braving every thing. Thiswhich appears to you lawlessness is obedience to an unescapable law. Ido what society does when a brutal power, as illogical as irritating,opposes its progress. It tramples it under foot and destroys it in anoutburst of frenzy. Such am I at this moment--I do not recognize myself.I was reasonable, and now I am a brute; I was respectful, and now I aminsolent; I was civilized, and now I am a savage. You have brought me tothis horrible extremity; infuriating me and driving me from the path ofrectitude which I was tranquilly pursuing. Who is to blame--I or you?"
"You, you!"
"Neither you nor I can decide the question. I think we are both toblame: you for your violence and injustice, I for my injustice andviolence. We have both become equally barbarous, and we struggle withand wound each other without compassion. God has permitted that itshould be so; my blood will be upon your conscience, yours will be uponmine. Enough now, senora. I do not wish to trouble you with uselesswords. We will now proceed to acts."
"To acts, very well!" said Dona Perfecta, roaring rather than speaking."Don't suppose that in Orbajosa there is no civil guard!"
"Good-by, senora. I will now leave this house. I think we shall meetagain."
"Go, go! go now!" she cried, pointing with an energetic gesture to thedoor.
Pepe Rey left the room. Dona Perfecta, after pronouncing a fewincoherent words, which were the clearest expression of her anger, sankinto a chair, with indications of fatigue, or of a coming attack ofnerves. The maids came running in.
"Go for Senor Don Inocencio!" she cried. "Instantly--hurry! Ask him tocome here!"
Then she tore her handkerchief with her teeth.
Dona Perfecta Page 20