📖 ¡Bienvenidos a ‘Los Hombres de Pro’, una historia fascinante escrita por José María de Pereda! En este relato, nos sumergimos en los profundos valores de la sociedad rural española, explorando las luchas y tensiones entre el honor, la familia y el poder. 🌾👨‍👩‍👧‍👦

🎯 ¿Estás listo para descubrir los dilemas y los giros sorprendentes que marcarán la vida de estos hombres ‘de pro’? ¡No te pierdas esta obra maestra de la literatura española!

🔹 Un relato que te llevará por paisajes rurales y personajes memorables.
🔹 Reflexiones sobre el sacrificio y la moral en una época de grandes cambios.
🔹 Un análisis profundo de las relaciones de poder y de clase en España.

👉 Suscríbete para no perderte más historias como esta: https://bit.ly/AhoradeCuentos.
-📖✨ La cita: novelas de Eduardo Zamacois 🎭💫 (https://youtu.be/CFsBPKNwnWk)
-Novelas de la Costa Azul 🌊📚 [https://youtu.be/kx5SVuqOAw4]

-🕵️‍♂️ Cuatro Historias de Max Carrados: Misterio y Detectives 🕵️‍♀️ | Ernest Bramah (https://youtu.be/c2bcNcasM7M)
-Incertidumbre 🔮 por Hermine Oudinot Lecomte du Noüy | Una historia de misterio y reflexión 🧠 (https://youtu.be/hKZO4dsnbxg)
-¡Cándido, o El Optimismo! 🤔🌍 | Voltaire | Reflexión sobre la vida y la naturaleza humana (https://youtu.be/PMggXDuWeM0)
-El Sabueso de los Baskerville 🐕🔍 | Un Misterio Sobrenatural de Sherlock Holmes | Arthur Conan Doyle (https://youtu.be/LK-HbVyCe1A)
-📖✨ La Caja de Cobre por J. S. Fletcher | Un Misterio Épico lleno de Suspenso 🕵️‍♂️🔍 | The Copper Box (https://youtu.be/EK39TfuUaAk)
-Flor de mayo 🌸 | ¡Una historia de amor y pasión en la España rural! 🇪🇸 (https://youtu.be/QMj_24riyrE)
-🔍📖 XYZ: Una Historia de Detectives por Anna Katharine Green | ¡Misterio y Suspenso! 🕵️‍♀️✨ (https://youtu.be/SR1HmPY77XU)
-Amor y Pedagogía ❤️📚 – La obra maestra de Unamuno (https://youtu.be/ZTE9FkjgUpY)
-Torquemada en la hoguera 🔥 | Benito Pérez Galdós 👑 | Historia de la Inquisición Española 🕯️ (https://youtu.be/MLkAM7vnVuw)
-Torquemada en la hoguera 🔥 | Benito Pérez Galdós 👑 | Historia de la Inquisición Española 🕯️ (https://youtu.be/MLkAM7vnVuw)
-La Guardia Blanca ⚔️🛡️ (https://youtu.be/Jw8jI1Raz_I)
-El tesoro misterioso 💎✨ | Un misterio intrigante por William Le Queux (https://youtu.be/U9Th_qvKYXI)
-La letra escarlata 📖🔥: El símbolo de la culpa y el arrepentimientovideo (https://youtu.be/FwcZs-RAUtI)
-Amor y Pedagogía ❤️📚 – La obra maestra de Unamuno (https://youtu.be/ZTE9FkjgUpY)

📜 ¡Disfruta de este clásico de la literatura española y acompáñanos en esta emocionante aventura! 🔥

#LiteraturaEspañola #JoséMaríadePereda #LosHombresdePro #CuentosClásicos #LiteraturaRural #NarrativaEspañola #Honor #Familia #Cultura #España #HombresdePro #ClásicosLiterarios #RelatoDeCampo #SociedadRural #HistoriasDeEspaña #LecturaDeHoy #Audiolibros #NarraciónEnEspañol #CuentosDeLaPatria #HistoriaDeEspaña #RelatosDeHonor

**Navigate by Chapters or Titles:**
00:00:30 Capítulo 1.
00:26:44 Capítulo 2.
00:48:56 Capítulo 3.
01:02:18 Capítulo 4.
01:12:43 Capítulo 5.
01:18:34 Capítulo 6.
01:23:49 Capítulo 7.
01:39:59 Capítulo 8.
01:50:47 Capítulo 9.
01:59:37 Capítulo 10.
02:27:24 Capítulo 11.
02:49:23 Capítulo 12.
02:55:10 Capítulo 13.
03:03:19 Capítulo 14.
03:12:34 Capítulo 15.
03:26:59 Capítulo 16.
03:34:20 Capítulo 17.
03:49:14 Capítulo 18.
04:04:19 Capítulo 19.
04:28:29 Capítulo 20.
04:37:22 Capítulo 21.
04:45:06 Capítulo 22.
04:52:15 Capítulo 23.
04:53:53 Capítulo 24.

In Los Hombres de Pro, José María de Pereda presents a story that explores the complexities of rural life in Spain, showing the challenges and struggles of a group of men who, due to their decisions and circumstances, find themselves involved in a series of situations that will test their honor and humanity. Through his characters, Pereda invites us to reflect on the contrast between nobility of heart and the struggle for power and social recognition. Chapter 1. A dozen and a half small houses, some of them formed in a semicircle, which was called a plaza, and at the highest point a church in the style of the day, that is, partly ruined, now in ruins in parts, were what made up years ago, and probably will continue to make up, a town whose name does not appear on any map, nor should it appear in this story. In that town, all the residents were poor, even the priest, who mended his own trousers and dressed the four potatoes and a few other beans he ate each day. These poor people were laborers by trade, and all, consequently, ate the miserable daily crust soaked in the sweat of work as hard as it was incessant. I said “all,” and I said wrongly: “all except one.” This one was named Simón Cerojo, who had managed to win the heart of a young woman from a nearby town, who brought him four thousand reales for the marriage from an inheritance that had suddenly fallen to him a year before Simón had courted her. It was Juana, for that was the girl’s name, more than usually vain by nature, to whom he owed a few favors, not many in truth; but after the four thousand from the inheritance, it was something he could not bear. He seemed to her like almost all the people who surrounded her in her town, and she solemnly promised herself that she would die a spinster if a suitor did not appear there who, besides being handsome, combined a bit of education, a bit of worldliness, and a certain _that_ in the fashion of the day. Simón Cerojo, who had just received his soldier’s license, who knew a bit about writing and had traveled halfway around Spain with his regiment, whose colonel he was assistant for five years, and was, moreover, a fresh and plump young fellow, believed himself to have met all the qualifications demanded by the vain girl; and he dared to court her, not without taking with him, as a memorial and greater abundance, on his first visit, a five-dollar watch and some of the clothes that, as a token of “good esteem and fine friendship,” his colonel had given him when he said goodbye. Juana accepted the suit with good grace, and the wedding was celebrated that day with all the solemnity possible ; And since Simón, orphaned years before, and without a trace of relatives in the world, had inherited a small shack in his village with a bit of a balcony overlooking the square, the newly married couple moved into it. Since Simón handled the brush almost as well as the pen and the adze, giving a pinch of his wife’s wealth, he whitewashed the main facade, painted the balcony and windows green, and a cross of the same color over each opening; after properly re-tiling it , he placed a wooden civil guard as a weather vane on the roof, aiming his rifle— an admirable and admired work he himself carved—and he fixed up the vestibule room, which until then had been serving as a den. He placed there , as previously agreed upon with his wife, a counter and a shelf that he improvised with four old planks, and invested the rest of his inheritance in oil, sugarcane liquor, shoelaces, black thread, jerkin’s laces, and other such trinkets. Everything was conveniently distributed between the counter and the shelves; Juana sat behind the counter, very grave and dressed in her finery; Simón placed a green sign on a red field over the main door, facing the plaza, that read: _San Quintín Grocery Store_, in memory of the regiment in which he had served, and that establishment was opened to the public, so necessary in a town that until then had had to supply itself in the village, two leagues away, with the most essential items. For this reason, the event was celebrated as one of the most transcendence, for those simple inhabitants, and the shopkeepers were, for some days, the object of admiration of all their neighbors; admiration that the admired received with all the dignity of the occasion: Simón, with his arms rolled up to the elbows, standing, and with the index finger and thumb of each hand resting on the counter; Juana, sitting behind it, with her snout furrowed and her eyelids drooping. So at first; and then, with much simpler ceremony, the shopkeepers gradually collected the meager savings of those peasants, in exchange for their drinks and sweets, not always charging in cash, but taking care, in the _fias_, to extract even the interest when the installments were due. For this reason, Simón Cerojo’s house was the only one in the town in question that offered a rather cheerful appearance… although it clouded over a little on holidays, as more people than could fit inside gathered there to play cards and drink something that resembled water only in color. But these were slight clouds that the priest tried to dispel with a few opportune conversations from the main altar, although without success; but let it never be said in honor of those good people that they gave the court of first instance anything to do . The reader will soon understand why, when we say that “all” the residents of the aforementioned town ate bread kneaded by the sweat of their brow, we except Simón Cerojo. It should be noted that he was the most notable person in town, not only because of his status as a merchant, a man of writing, and pompous counsel, but also because he was in good standing with people, that is, because he shared a lot of “squabbling.” Indeed, it has already been said that Simón was his colonel’s assistant for five years, and that he dismissed him with a great deal of attention, and, in the lawyer’s words, with proofs of “high esteem and a fine friendship.” Now let it be known, and it is the truth, that despite having been promoted to general in less than two years, for I don’t know what or how many pronouncements, the aforementioned colonel did not disdain to respond very attentively to Simón’s letters in which he congratulated him, nor did he lack offers to do something for him when necessary; offers he fulfilled on two occasions, during which the former assistant put him to the test, not very severely, for the benefit of two of his neighbors who believed they had been abused by the Treasury. “And how,” we will be asked, “was Simón aware of these promotions and these developments of his former boss, living in that humble corner?” To answer this question, it is necessary to highlight something that Simón did not show to his fellow citizens; and since I was bound to denounce it to the reader sooner or later, I will do so at this moment, and we will have a head start on that. There was something in Simón’s nature that refracted the impossible. For him, within the realm of humanity, all men were capable of anything; and if, when his lot as a soldier fell, someone had jokingly said, “Goodbye, my general,” he would surely, shrugging his shoulders, have answered very seriously to himself: “Who knows?” This did not frighten him, however, about his status as a common soldier while he served as his colonel’s assistant. The how and the when did not concern Simón much . He loved traveling from town to town and city to city; and seeing here and hearing there, he became familiar with certain things and events, but without falling in love with them. Thus, upon taking his leave from Madrid, he left for his village without pain or joy. and looking at the court from afar, he sent a farewell that could have meant either “goodbye forever” or “see you later.” However, he felt within himself, although very little pronounced, a special fondness: politics; and the fear of losing sight of it was the only thing that made the memory of his people unpleasant for him. I need hardly say that the politics Simon loved was the street politics, the politics of news. This captivated him so much that, playing a prank, as he called it, he invested a part of the bombastic A gratification the colonel gave him upon dismissing him included a subscription to a cheap, informative newspaper, which he never failed to provide a single day after arriving home. This is why he was aware of his colonel’s promotions. Simón had a sonorous voice, a calm way of speaking, with elaborate words and difficult phrases; therefore, lacking in imagination and not very subtle in understanding; very fond of oratorical discourse, and a liberal of convenience, if he had any political opinions at all. And I say of convenience, because in his conversations with the colonel, he used to say to him: “I like liberals because they talk to each other about everything they want. I’m not like the others because only those who understand them talk about certain things.” Once Simón settled in his town, as we know, he took great care not to occupy himself with anything other than his family and his business. But did he become so attached to the latter that he was determined to continue exploiting him as long as he was willing? Certainly not. On the contrary: as he became more independent, he looked with less attachment to the narrow horizons of the village. He did not have a determined ambition, perhaps because he believed himself capable of anything, given the wings to fly. But he was not yet tormented by haste; and this could have been due to the fact that he had to occupy himself with restraining the ambition that incessantly devoured his wife, whose ambitions soared much higher than his. Simón, at least, had the ability or the innate privilege of knowing how to dissemble. Juana, on the contrary, had become insufferable. She dealt behind the counter with more poise than a minister in his armchair, receiving her customers with a snout and tongue like a lady with a fork and knife. She was outraged by the audacity of the boys who, sometimes just out of curiosity, poked their heads into the establishment, and she strictly forbade her three-year-old daughter from playing with her acquaintances, as there were none of her equals among them. One day she said to her husband, who was sitting thoughtfully behind the counter next to her: “Simon, the truth is, this is getting more and more unbearable. ” “Huh?” responded Simon, somewhat embarrassed, as if a secret had been revealed to him. “I mean, you and I are being the Cerineans of the whole town, and the job isn’t fun at all. ” “Well, I don’t understand you, Juana,” replied Simon, concealing the pleasure with which he entered into the discussion on this point. “I’m saying that this house is a crying place for all those riffraff. A neighbor doesn’t have anything to eat; well, here he can pawn his blanket or his mattress.” Another needs a couple of pesetas; here to sell the grain. Another wants a pawn for up there; here to look for your letter. Someone’s husband beats her; here to fly off to cry in pity. I’ll put on a new petticoat; here I’ll find out what it cost, and in what store in town I bought it… That half a quarter of oil, that two quarters of thread, that rusty coin, that credit… Come, Simón, this is a labyrinth that’s killing me. “And nothing more?” Simón said to her with great phlegm. “And does that seem like little to you? ” “Well, come here, you wicked sinner, and tell me: without that quarter of oil, and those two quarters of thread, and that grain bought at random, and the pledge on the blanket, and serving anyone who comes along, if possible and worthwhile , what would become of our interests?” Remember that when we settled there were barely four thousand reales at home, a miscalculated sum. Would you let yourself be hanged today for thirty thousand? That’s true, Simón, and I’m not complaining about my fortune. So what are you complaining about then? I mean, without all the work we have here, we could make more… let’s say, somewhere else. So somewhere else! And how? Do you think these four odds and ends we have at home are going to make more somewhere else, where we have to pay for the store and even our drinking water? Of course not. But I was saying that if with what we already have and, let’s say , a tobacco shop that the general could take out of us… in the village… “Wait a bit,” said Simon, suddenly fascinated by his wife’s suggestion. “I hadn’t guessed about the tobacco shop. ” “And this way,” continued Juana, taking advantage of her husband’s favorable attitude, “we could teach the girl something for tomorrow, if luck chooses to favor her with a good position… Because here, as you can see, she can’t learn anything good. ” “We’re all in agreement, woman! But…” And Simon scratched his head and pursed his lips. At this point, the priest, a venerable old man, came in to buy two quarts of black thread to mend his cassock. “You couldn’t have arrived earlier, Señor Don Justo,” Simon told him. “So what’s going on?” asked the priest. “Something very serious for us,” Simon responded ingenuously. “No one outside this house cares a fig,” Juana snapped , fearing that the intrusion of a third party might upset the course of the matter she was so happy about. “Then rest assured,” said the priest, who already knew Juana’s mood, preparing to leave the tent. “Slowly, Señor Don Justo, and please forgive me,” said Simón, stopping him, “for advice from wise men is for such occasions . ” “Then take advice from your wife,” replied the priest, “for she doesn’t seem to need advice from anyone. ” “My wife, whether she likes it or not, will take whatever you give her,” added Simón, looking firmly at Juana. She made a gesture of displeasure, and her husband continued: “The fact is, Simón, we would like to move to the villa with the tent and anything else we could add to it.” “If that’s your desire,” said the priest, “who’s going to stop you?” “It’s not about that, but about my fear that we’ll change, like the mole, and pardon the comparison, our eyes will roll back. ” “Well, if you’re afraid of that, why do you want to leave here? ” “Because, on the other hand, it seems it’s in our best interest to go to the town. ” “Then go, blessed be God.” “I don’t explain myself well, Señor Don Justo. ” “Well, explain yourself better. ” “I’m going to be blunt. What do you think? Is it in our best interest to leave here or not? ” “Before answering that question, I need you to answer another one. ” “As many as you want, Señor Curé. ” “So I ask: Is it only the desire to increase your profits, expanding trade and the parish, that moves you to abandon this peaceful corner, or is there some other ambition of a different kind within you?” Feeling this stab in the chest, Simón looked at Juana, Juana looked at Simón; and the priest, looking from one to the other, guessed what, after a while and after smiling and hesitating for a long time, Simón replied in these words: “I see, Don Justo, that for you there are no secrets or excuses. The truth is, we have a child who cannot be raised here as we would like. On the other hand, Juana, since she was not born in this town, does not have much regard for it, so to speak… Besides, I also have a certain bugging inside me that… well, Father, you know that the dove does not fly as it pleases in the dovecote. ” “I didn’t think you were such a high-flying bird, Simón,” said Don Justo sarcastically . “That’s just a figure of speech, Father,” added Simón, somewhat confused. “As for the rest, this is all I had to say to you. So do me the favor of giving me your opinion without reservation or hesitation.” –Well, without hesitation or reservation, I’m going to give it to you from the bottom of my heart, in view of what you tell me… and what you keep quiet about, and, above all, what you ask of me: You’ve been established here for four or five years, and in that time you’ve made a fortune that allows you to be the most independent people in town. Everyone there needs you, almost everyone respects you, and many envy you. To abandon this, which is certain and positive, for the illusory hope of something better, I consider true temerity as well as egregious ingratitude. Given your background, your origin, your education, grant me, and don’t be offended by it, that I It is probable, rational, and certain that you will not play a higher or more honorable role anywhere than you do here. And as for your daughter’s education… what can I say to you? I believe that the best school for a girl is a good mother; especially when the girl, like yours, has been wrapped in rough swaddling clothes and knows no other greatness than that which God has imprinted on His works. Such is my opinion, in substance; and if it still seems long to you, I will condense it into two axioms, which, although extremely vulgar, are nonetheless very worthy of your reflection: “A rolling stone does not breed mold. It is better to be the head of a mouse than the tail of a lion. ” Thoughtful, he left the couple with Don Justo’s disillusioned opinion; but Simón still dared to make this small objection: “In any case, Father, we will always have the recourse, if things look bad outside this house, to return to it with our belongings.” “Of course!” said Don Justo ironically. “When you leave here, you leave fortune nailed behind the door until you ask her again to protect you. As if there weren’t others who will take advantage of her as soon as you abandon her! Innocents! ” Simon looked again at his wife, as if to ask her: “What do you think of this?” But Juana answered him with such a look and such a countenance that, unable to stand her calmly, he turned his eyes to the priest and said, just for the sake of it: “We’ll think about it, Señor Don Justo.” “And you’ll do well,” he replied. And since he had clearly read Juana’s last glance at her husband, understanding that he was there too much, he concluded with these words: “So, my children: having said that, I’m off to my chores.” but be it known that I have not interfered in your affairs until you have requested it, and do not doubt that here or wherever fortune may place you, my poor prayers and my wishes that God, the author and dispenser of all happiness, may grant you it as complete as it will last. ” “Amen!” said Joanna in a fit of spite, as the saintly man left the tent. Simon remained thoughtful. An altercation was bound to break out between the wife, who was dominated by the demon of impatience, and the husband, who was not so much so, when the little girl came crying into the tent. “What is the matter, my darling daughter?” asked Joanna, between anger and alarm. “Titina… la del Toco… hit me… Hi, hiiii… ” “What did Cristina la del Cojo hit you for, my daughter?” said Juana, the only interpreter capable of translating those words into Spanish, spoken through the innocent’s half-tongue. “And why did she hit you, angel of God?” “Hi… hiiii… Because my friend had a problem, and I…, hi, hiiii…, she didn’t have a problem, and… and… and I called her lousy. ” “You did well to call her that, my daughter! Who is she to play with you?” exclaimed Simón ‘s wife, in a genuine burst of pride . ” And if after this your father doesn’t take his eyes off him, or the money he owes him, I tell you he’ll have no blood or shame. Wretches!” “After all, if it weren’t for one of us, they’d all starve to death!… And we still have to stand here contemplating, quarreling, and prudishness, doing whatever we please with our property! Ah, if only I had the breeches!” Simon was about to answer Juana from the door, against which he was leaning, looking out at the street, when a large dog with a rough and dirty coat came bounding out of the kitchen, a blood sausage dripping with broth between its teeth. It was about to head for the door like a whirlwind; but seeing it occupied by the master, it leaped onto the counter, no doubt to use it as a springboard; and knocking over and shattering half a dozen glasses and a bottle, it crossed the space like a rocket; it passed, without touching, over Simon’s head; it fell into the street, without dropping the blood sausage, of course, and disappeared into the adjacent alley. “The sexton’s dog!” cried Simon when he saw him, preparing to grab a club. But it was all in vain: the appearance of the animal, the disaster of the The counter, the leap on Simon, and the disappearance into the square were all the work of a single instant. Joanna reached for the sky as she contemplated the destruction caused by the thieving dog. “And this is every day!” she cried, beside herself. “I assure you,” Simon growled, “that I shall make his master pay dearly for this damage. ” “Yes!” said Joanna, “like the half pound of bacon that same fiendish animal stole from your hands the other day! Like the chicken that the gravedigger’s cat took from my stewpan the day before yesterday! Like the grain that the neighbor’s hens gobbled up in the attic yesterday! Like so many other things that are stolen by the devil’s tricks!” And how that impetuous woman immediately converted everything into substance: “When I tell you,” she concluded, “that one cannot live in this town! That they will leave us there without shirts and without health!” “The truth is,” grumbled Simon, “that one loses patience dealing with these people. ” “I preach that to you every day, and you pay no attention to me . ” “More than you think.” “You are little known. ” “Because I prefer to speak on time than to speak a lot. ” “So what are you waiting for, you icy soul? ” “For the general to get me the tobacco shop in the town, which I’m going to ask him for today. ” “You’ll end up with two thousand devils!” exclaimed Juana in a burst of senseless joy. “Things, woman, must follow their natural course,” said Simon in a solemn and calm tone, as if he had recorded a great sentence. “I assure you,” he added in an even more pompous tone, “that this matter about the dog has touched my soul, and that it weighs on me much more than the priest’s words.” One mustn’t laugh at this witticism of Simon’s; for, on reasons of equal weight, certain passions often seize upon the human heart when it desires to be conquered. A few days later, the neighbors saw two carts piled high at the door of the grocery store; then they saw the oilcans, barrels, pots, and trinkets from the store, even the shelves and the counter, being loaded onto one of them; they then saw the mattresses, the dismantled beds, the kitchen utensils—all the furnishings of Simon’s house—being placed on
the other cart ; and how Juana and her daughter settled themselves in a space left for that purpose above the mattresses, after the former had repeatedly rubbed her shoes on the floor, looking all the while in all directions, as if she wanted, with such a foolish boast, to imply that even the dust of that floor offended her. The people also saw how, after taking out even the broom, Simon closed the door and put the key in his pocket, and then the carts began to move, which Simon followed, gravely greeting all the people who bid him farewell from afar with a nod of their heads. Not once did they see Juana’s head appear outside the awning under which she was riding; and finally, they saw how the two carts and Simon, who always walked beside them, after crossing the plaza, took the road to the town and disappeared along it. Chapter 2. This town was like all, or most, of the towns in Spain: a poor imitation of a city, without ceasing to be a village; or rather, all the bad things of the village and the city, without having any of their good qualities. It did not have the ease of the village, nor the independence, nor the horizon, nor the pure air, nor the splendid sun, nor the aromas, nor the placid isolation; But it did have its miseries, its _neighborhoods_, its scarcity of resources, its loneliness, its helplessness, its smallness. It didn’t have the city’s monuments, its spectacles, the police, the provision of everything, the culture, the comforts; but it did have its labels, its needs, its hardships, its slavery, its pestilences. The law of races ruled there, if not by color, then by position or category, and distances were kept even in the house of God, the only place on earth where vaunted social equality is a fact, except when it comes to those ridiculous middle grounds between the confusion of large populations. and the quiet simplicity of country life. The town itself was a mockery of that pretentious society. Filled with grandly decorated shops, they sold only the most essential items for the life the wealthy lived there; pigs grunted and rolled in the poorly paved streets; poultry grazed in the cracks in the sidewalks and in the corners of the square, and in the surrounding countryside, half garden and orchard, half farmland, the flowers neither bloomed, the fruit ripened, the wheat gleaned, nor the hay grew. For all this discordant and distressing setting, Simón and Juana had exchanged their brightly painted village house, its beautiful horizons, and its flowery boundaries, four years before the moment when the reader and I entered the town in question. It was the month of May, and the foliage, the birds, the flowers , and the zephyr that swayed them filled the entire countryside. Of all these natural wonders, only a plume of withered blossoms reached the town, which a few stunted fruit trees revealed over the moldy ridges of this and that wall, even in the most central streets, like a mocking announcement of a fruit that would never reach maturity. That town also had, like all towns, like all men, its specialty, its invincible fate, its insurmountable anankee, as Victor Hugo would say. This anankee was a stream, which originated in a neighboring hill; and leaving the poor countryside it crossed to die of thirst during the summer, it had the audacity to flood several times each winter, thanks to the water provided by the rains and the distillations of the hill, the lowest part of the town near which it passed. That stream, the excesses of that stream, the profit that could be made from that stream if properly channeled, were the nightmare and the everlasting topic of all the town’s municipalities and their most sedate deliberations. The question of the stream reappeared, fresh and throbbing with interest among the residents at every Congress that was held in Madrid, at every municipality that was elected in the town, at every governor that was changed in the provincial capital. And with this said, the matter was hardly forgotten. And it was worth hearing how those people talked about _channeling_, _fertilizing_, _fabrication_, the _course of the river_, _palisades, walls and_ other magnitudes of that kind, no more and no less than if they were trying to give a new channel to the _Amazon_, or to put a dam to the fury of the Atlantic, when, strictly speaking, everything was reduced to twisting the channel of the stream, next to the town, in a distance of forty yards, two wide by as many deep! This was the most pressing need; and another, quite urgent, was to open some irrigation canals, through which the flow of the stream would be conveniently distributed in winter, so that it would soak the entire countryside equally, and so that in summer it would retain some freshness, since in such a hot season any canal was useless, since the stream dried up to its source, and nothing ran through its beds except the clouds of dust raised by the wind, lizards, and cockroaches. Precisely on the day we entered the town with this story, there was a meeting of taxpayers in the Town Hall to discuss this perennial matter, due to the visit to the Cortes of a deputy from a nearby town, to whom the representative was to be entrusted with the no small task of obtaining from the Government the protection so often attempted in vain by the town’s residents. The hall was packed, as the saying goes; but appearing in the preferential benches, next to the commission, the _se__lordship_, that is, the people in frock coats, although almost everyone spent it there. Once the session was opened, and after reading the statement of reasons that was submitted to the Government’s consideration, the president said: “I believe, gentlemen, that on this we will all agree. That the floods of the river are harmful to the population, and that channeling it would benefit the countryside cannot be denied by anyone. “In agreement,” they all said. ” Means proposed to carry out this enterprise,” the president continued: “Let the Government pay half of the estimated expenses, and the people the other half. ” “In agreement,” the audience replied. “Resources available to the people to pay their share, and whose approval they request,” the president added, leafing through the draft application that was on the table. “First: the demolition of the chapel of San Roque, which is located on the bank of the river… Gentlemen,” he said , turning to the audience with a resolute gesture, “The commission has kept in mind, in making this proposal, the proximity of the chapel to the site where the new channel is to be opened; the ashlars and wood you can give us for the masonry work indicated there, and the money that the ornaments and sculptures will bring us, duly auctioned. Some will tell me that the first mass is said in that chapel on feast days, which is why the preservation of that small temple is, to a certain extent, a necessity for the neighborhood; but, gentlemen, the truth is also that this necessity is purely moral, while the other is palpable and felt, and affects the finances and even the lives of many of us; of us, gentlemen, who are very liberal… I say, I consider you as such… _Thunderous voices: Yes, yes_! Well then: if, as liberals that we are, we are not bothered by certain old worries… _Voices: No, no_! Why discard that resource, when with it we can largely remedy the calamity that afflicts us four, five, and six times each winter, and, conversely, all summer long? _Many voices: Down with the chapel of San Roque! Down with the priests_! Not so much, gentlemen, not so much! The chapel is enough _for now_. _Frenzied bravos in the room_. Discussion opens on this matter. Moments of silence, during which one could believe that everyone agreed with the president’s opinion, or that no one dared to express a different one. Believing the former, the commission was about to approve the proposal, when a poor priest, already old and infirm like an old man, who had obtained a voice, but not a vote, in the hall, thanks to a special favor from those gathered, stood up to protest against the president’s words. He demonstrated, in a slow, cracked voice, but undaunted, first: that it was a hoax that the demolition of the chapel could provide the resources to which the president referred; that there were no ashlars in the building other than the tiny, rotten ones of the door; that the ornaments wouldn’t be worth two pesetas at auction, and that the sculptures on the very poor and dismantled altar wouldn’t even fetch thirty reales . He demonstrated this as two plus two makes four. Second: that even if the president’s optimistic calculations were true, the faith of a Catholic people, holy traditions, the demands of divine worship, respect for the rights of others and for the common law demanded that such a serious matter not be acted upon so lightly, if only because some malicious person were not to say that it was being obeyed by a “partisan resentment” rather than the rigor of a pressing necessity. All of which earned the poor priest a storm of murmurs, amid which he had to sit down, immediately leaving the room, so as not to authorize with his presence the discussion of a point that was, in his opinion, indisputable. For the second time, the matter was about to be considered closed when a young man, plump, with a small forehead but a very handsome face, a deep chest, broad shoulders, very neat hair and a curly mustache , thick hands, and affected in his dress, asked to speak. That man was Simon Cerojo, who already had all the fatness and all the luster, and even all the attire, proper to a broth dealer who is enjoying a prosperous fortune, but who has not yet reached the halfway point of his career. “Gentlemen,” said Simon, after clearing his throat a great deal and smoothing his hair a good deal, “I, the most incompetent and the most… and the most inept.” toward the committee benches_, and the most inexperienced, I say, of those present here, I rise to intervene in this debate, since no one has wanted to do so after the dino priest spoke . _Laughter and mockery at his side_. Yes, gentlemen, very dino… _General laughter_ . Very dino, I say, and circumspectly I add! _Laughter_. But I’m getting to the point. The President says that moral interest is not what opposes material and momentary interest. I won’t say the President is not right; but neither will I say that he is. _More mockery_. I ‘ll explain, gentlemen; it seems that everyone here is learned and knows Latin. _Laughter from a frock coat and applause from a jacket_ That the need to put the river in another direction is respectable, and the amount that the hermitage will be worth after it is demolished is respectable, and the materials provided for the work are respectable: granted. But it is said: ” Moral interest is not respectable. ” I won’t say that it is; but at least appearances, gentlemen; appearances! _Laughter here and there_. Laugh all you want, if it makes you fat, because I am no less contingent… _Amazement_, nor less liberal. _Sensation_. I was saying, gentlemen, that we must save appearances, since the hermitage of San Roque cannot be saved. I am a Christian, as Christian as anyone … _Rumors_. Yes, gentlemen, as Christian as anyone; but more liberal than the first one who comes along. _Thunderous applause_. And it is clear that my conscience is not startled because there is a more or less proper church…; because I am not one of those Pharisees who speculate with religion!… Frantic applause, nor one of those others who want nothing to do with it! _Rumors_. I like to live well and be tolerant with everyone. That’s why I’m a good Christian… _Murmurs_, a good Catholic!… _Laughter_ and a good liberal! _Applause. The speaker wipes his face with his handkerchief and asks for a glass of aniseed water, which they don’t serve him. _I repeat that if the demolition of the chapel is as necessary as they say, let it be carried out; but let the priest ‘s words not be ignored , for, after all, there are still many souls who listen to him. How could I oppose any project of general interest? Let the chapel fall, if it is God’s will that it must fall; but let it fall with due respect for those who oppose it. This is what I wanted to say… because I am very contingent, very tolerant, and very liberal. I said. _Applause, laughter, and murmurs. The speaker receives congratulations from some colleagues; He wipes his sweat again with his handkerchief and spits stickily several times in the middle of the room. Since no one wanted to explain the matter further, it was put to a vote, and the committee’s proposal was accepted almost unanimously. The president continued: “Second means of arbitrating resources: ‘The municipality is authorized to impose a six percent surcharge on drinking and burning articles .'” “Not that, I vote for the devil!” said Simón Cerojo, standing up on the bench and foaming at the mouth with rage, contrary to his usual moderation, tolerance, and contingency. “Same here!” shouted many other voices around Simón. “Away with that article! Down with the committee! ” “Order!” shouted the president, banging his stick on the table. “Out with the rabble!” shouted the proprietors, facing the tavern crowd. “Down with the tyrants!” shouted some Caldists from the back of the room. “Long live the working people! ” “Long live the Duke of Victory!” shouted a shoemaker. “Orrrden! ” “Down with those above! ” “Down with those below, into the streets! ” “Orrrrrrdeeennn!” And no one understands each other there, because everyone is shouting and twisting and waving their hands, creating such a terrible uproar that I laugh at those who are promoted every day in the “temple of our national representation.” After half an hour, and no doubt from exhaustion, the storm calms. “It is worth observing, gentlemen,” said the president then, “what just happened here. A man who, according to what he himself told us, is all _tolerance_, all _moderation_ and all _contingency_ _Laughter_, is precisely the one who rioted in the hall as soon as he saw that his very particular interests were being touched, no more. _Simón Cerojo asks to speak for a personal allusion._ That’s how it is, gentlemen, with the patriotism of some men! And I’ll say no more. –Gentlemen deputies…, I mean those present: it is incumbent on me as a man of integrity, on my loyalty and on my… contingency _Laughter_ to make this point very clear. I have not rebelled against the base that has been read only because of what affects my interests, but because of what does not affect those of others. _Murmurs_ I will explain. It is a matter of undertaking a project that will benefit the lands that the river crosses today, and it is proposed that it be paid for, for the most part, by those of us who deal in articles of drink and fire… precisely those of us who do not have half a pound of land in the countryside. I rebel against this because it’s not fair. But this way of proceeding isn’t new in this town either, and for the same reason that it’s not new, and I’m already tired of lending a shoulder to the wheel so others can rise to the top, that’s why I rebel even more determinedly. _Applause from below. Murmurs from above._ I am very liberal, but I don’t allow anyone to step on me or trample on me; and I am also very tolerant, but not at the expense of my interests, which are bread, and sustenance, and the… intellectual contingency… _Jujeos_ of my family. I will pay my fair share to channel the river elsewhere, so that it doesn’t touch the town, which after all, and God knows why, I live there; but whoever wants good, well-watered land, let them sweat it out of their own pockets. _Applause among the Caldistas._ “Mr. Cerojo,” said a very cocky figure from the proprietors’ section with a sly tone, “and the other tavern keepers around him, aren’t very keen on keeping the river, or rather, the water it carries, away from their establishments. I’m not surprised. ” “Listen, sio pendón,” responded a Caldista, rather grimy and disillusioned, “do you think that, although we’re poor, we make a living here by swindling innocent people, like some nobleman I know? ” “All right, gentlemen!” shouted the president, hoping to change the dangerous direction the debate was taking. “I don’t know how my colleagues think about this,” objected Simón, affecting disdain for the proprietor’s words; “but I know how I think, and that’s why I said what I said; and now I add that we, the poor artists, are always the butts in this town.” That the good, the comfortable , and the lustrous, there are shared out by the manates. So we are not counted on even for a sad polite greeting, because they hold it in low regard; but when it comes to making money… _Protests from above_, we are sought out and pampered. _Applause below_. And this is intolerable, inominous to us; and I even deny the day I set foot on the geography of this town. “Mr. Cerojo, Mr. Cerojo!” shouted the president, unable to contain himself any longer, “those words are unworthy of this place and this audience, and I hope you will withdraw them spontaneously. ” “I have nothing to withdraw but myself, and I am going to withdraw it from here right now.” “It will not be without my first demonstrating to you, with a very simple proof, how importunate your anger has been, how inappropriate your conduct has been, since you have not been made aware of it by the very different and dignified behavior observed by other merchant gentlemen present here . ” “It’s that those gentlemen have not been asked for anything. ” “That’s what you don’t know… Gentlemen, to fully understand the intemperance of Mr. Cerojo and his friends, it is enough to know that of the statement that has so infuriated you, only half has been read! _General attention_. The other half reads as follows: “… and another three percent surcharge on nails and ironmongery _Protests from the ironmongers_, cloths of the kingdom…. _Energetic rumors among the clothiers_, and other articles of clothing and footwear.” _Shouts from various parts of the room_. “Now I’m not the intemperate one, Mr. President!” Simon shouted, barely managing the uproar that was beginning to reign in the room. “Oh my God, gentlemen!” shouted the president. “Justice was better!” many voices replied. “Catalan must be done in this town!” added others. “Oh my God! ” “Out with that rabble!” shouted the property owners again. “Down with the commission! ” “And those who want to fatten themselves in its shadow! ” “Long live the honest poor! ” “Long live the Duke of Victory!” shouted the shoemaker again. “Oh my God! ” “Scoundrel! ” “Thieves! ” And the uproar repeats itself, and things get serious, and the prudent ones disappear, and the president, already hoarse, climbs onto the table and manages to make himself heard for a few moments. “Gentlemen,” he says, “For the hundredth time in my life I witness this spectacle, born of the same cause that brought you forward today.” This proves to me that the inhabitants of this town are condemned to suffer cowardly, and for ever and ever, the outrages of that evil stream. The committee, understanding this as well, respectfully resigned their position and adjourned the session. Hisses, insults, a frightful racket, and the occasional slap were the immediate result of this harangue, and the meeting ended . Chapter 3. While these things were happening in the Town Hall, other events of a very different nature were occurring beside the same stream in question, in the scant shade cast by the not yet fully formed foliage of two short rows of poplars, which were known in the town as the “Alameda Grande.” Since it was a working day and the hour least conducive to rest, up to half a dozen girls, the fluffiest of whom was nine years old, were the absolute masters of the entire avenue, able to run along it without hindrance or stumbling ; All smiling, all agile, all charming, as all girls are at that age, when they are not restrained by the oppression of a ball gown or their newly-bought boots. Behind those cheerful little girls, who ran and shouted without ceasing , there was not running, but walking with slow steps, glum and as if wary, another girl no less graceful and no older than they. There were, however, notable differences between them. Of these, those who were not blonde were very white; this one was dark. Those who ran were as agile as goats, and when they ran it seemed as if their tiny feet did not touch the ground; the one who followed them with her eyes was more rounded and her movements less smooth and graceful; and although she wore the same clothes as them in shape and quality, there was something not in the best taste in the combination of colors and in the air of her dress . Undoubtedly, that little girl did not belong, like the others, to the _good tone_ of the town, and for that reason she only took part in their games intentionally. I have often observed that young girls are very particular about their choice of friends, which is why they hardly become acquainted with those who are not of their social standing, or of a higher one if possible. Boys are quite the opposite: they seem to pride themselves on associating, for their games and ventures, the most lost and ragged people they find in the street. The lagging girl in our story always followed, even from a distance, the movements of those who ran, and frequently, upon meeting one of them, she ran too, as if she were deluding herself that they were chasing her in _hide and seek_ or disputing her place at _the four corners_. And since she had allowed herself these _liberties_ several times, on one of them the girl she bumped into stopped panting; and pushing back her curls with both hands, she exclaimed in the most disdainful tone she could: “What a plague of snot, daughter! How it clings! ” “That runs in the family,” said another, who stopped at her side. “Well, let’s give it a fresh one,” added another, “and see if it goes away. ” “I think she must even be miserable, woman!” remarked a thin woman, like a wicker, who swayed a lot when she walked and sucked her finger as soon as she stopped. “How it _crawls_!” “Hey, you,” she said in the ear of the previous one, opening her eyes wide and Raising her eyebrows, a little girl, very nervous and astonished. “She’s got the knife! ” “What knife?” asked the thin girl, not quite sure of her courage. “A very big one she was holding the other day, at the door of her house. ” “And what would you do to us with it?” “Mother of God! Since we’re here alone and in the middle of this forest… ” “Do you want us to go home?” “It was there for her!” said an older girl who had heard these remarks with ease . “Scary, more than scared!… “Well, you play with her, otherwise! ” “If I don’t play with that flag!” I would first go and tell my father. “Shall we go look for the dog we have in the garden and swell it right here?” suggested the timid girl. “And what if he eats it all? ” “Let him eat it.” My father is the mayor… “Yes; but God punishes us for that… and something bad might happen to us. ” “Well, what else do we do?” “Let’s go to that corner and see if she’ll stay here alone and then leave.” And with that, the vain little girls filed slowly past, looking back out of the corner of their eyes; they reached a corner of the avenue, and there they crouched on the ground, forming a tight, narrow circle. At this point, the poor, disdained girl, who had been watching the others during their brief conversation, glancing sideways and biting her nails, when she saw them sitting down, went toward them step by step, with her head bowed; and when she was half a yard away from the disdainful ones, she sank down slowly to the ground and began to pick the petals of the little flowers in the grass, without plucking them, occasionally glancing crosswise at the group and sniffing very hard at the air with her nostrils. “My dear, what a stinking girl!” exclaimed the eldest girl impatiently upon seeing her at her side again. “Not even if she were made of paste!” “That’s how she sticks!” observed the more indolent one. “I saw her wipe her nose with her petticoat the other day!” said the thin one, very surprised, blowing her own with her fingers. “Shall we scratch her?” suggested the nervous one, twitching hers. “That’s out of place, my dear,” replied the eldest. “It’s better to do something else, now that I remember. ” “What is it? ” “Giving her mate, so she’ll be furious with envy. ” “Then you start. ” “You’ll see how soon. Friends of God,” he continued very loudly, so that the intruder could hear, “my father came from the Indies last year… and brought back five frigates loaded with ounces… and a little black boy to serve him the chocolate…” and he’s so rich he corresponds with the King of the Indies…; and he gives me two reales every time it’s his saint’s day…, and I spend them on whatever I please…; and I have three spring-loaded dolls , and a collection of buttons that a seamstress who cleared out her shop gave Mama for me … ; and I have two woolen marmots to take to school in the winter…, because I go to school, and not to the zurri donri school, like some unfortunate women… that I know…, and perhaps they aren’t very far from here. I’m going to be seven years old; and when I am, Mama will give me an imitation shirtfront, which she doesn’t wear anymore, to make some lace for the big doll; and a man who comes to the house gives me two centavos every Sunday; and if I wanted, he would give me a sewing pad, with its gold key and its silver thimble…, and… and… Now you,” she said to the nervous girl, who was following her on the right; who , after shuddering and looking with frightened eyes at the solitary girl, continued: “Well, my father is mayor of the whole town, and he has three houses like three palaces, and a cousin in the king’s court; and my mother has a maid who is the daughter of counts, and seven dresses for each hour the clock strikes, and a chain this long, this long, that cost Father a million when he was in Paris, France. And when I grow up, they’ll buy me three dresses every month, and a diamond-studded watch, and boots for the Empress. I also go to school with this one; and at home we eat principle every day, and on Sundays we drink coffee; and my father has a dog in the garden that bites the sticky tarascas.” “I am the daughter of a judge,” said the one following the nervous girl, “and being the daughter of a judge, my father has four bailiffs in frock coats, and they call him _usía_; and besides, all the Spaniards pay him an ounce every day; and when he goes to Madrid, he lives in the king’s palaces; and the other night he told me at the table that if he won the lottery, he was going to buy me a music box. And my mother buys chickpeas wholesale: yesterday she bought three pounds; and for Christmas, the gentlemen who come to our house because they have lawsuits give us turkeys; and I have many dresses, more than three, and two pairs of boots, with the ones I’m wearing and another pair that they’ll make me for St. Peter’s Day, if Father wins the lottery; and my father is so powerful that he sends anyone he wants to jail, or orders them to be hanged, as he has done before.” And if I told him to put some snob I know in jail , he’d put her in right away. “Well, in my house,” continued the skinny girl, stopping sucking her thumb, “everything is pure rubbish. My mother eats nothing but pastries; my father, biscuits; and I, jelly; and my sister Carmen, sighs. We don’t want stew, because it’s not in style; and that’s why we give the girls puff pastry. And my father receives every year, in rent, more than twelve sacks of flour, fifteen arrobas of butter, and two boxes of sugar from Havana… Because my father is an Indian, and he brings home a lot of money every night when he comes back from the social gathering, where the judge, this one’s father, also goes ; and if some slovenly girls I know didn’t eat so much filth, they wouldn’t be so greasy and would have a better education. ” “My whole caste,” said the most serious and thoughtful one, “comes from kings; and in my house the beds are made of gold and the clothes are made of Indian silk; and if my father wins the lawsuit this one’s father is defending against him, he’ll enlarge the garden by more than that amount…; and since I’m so principled, when an ordinary girl stinks at me, I tell her, and in the sun. “Wh… wh… well, I,” concluded the sixth, who was quite a stutterer, “ta… ta… ta… also…” Hearing this and the girl, until then taciturn and disdained, bursting out laughing were one and the same thing. “And he’s joking!” the others exclaimed in wonder. “Ta… ta… ta!” the mocker repeated between bursts of laughter. “The devil of…! ” “The devil of…! ” “Look at him…! To dare to make fun of a fine girl! ” “Yes; and I laugh. So what?” “Ta… ta… ta….” ” I’m going to tell my father right now,” exclaimed the one who told us she was the judge’s daughter. “And tell him while he’s at it to pay the two hundred reales he owes my father,” the threatened woman replied heartily. “Oh, how dare you! ” “Leave me alone, I’ll get the dog,” said the nervous woman. “You’ll bring a show-off! And you won’t have so much when they settle your father’s accounts at the Town Hall. ” “Oh, what a scoundrel! ” “Gossip! ” “A stickler, an oil-woman! ” “Hungry! Cheating, even more cheating !” “A villager! A Tarascan!” “Greedy! Smarmy! ” “Ta… ta… ta… ta… tavern-keeper!” the stutterer managed to say after a desperate effort. “Tar… tar… stuttering!” the other woman replied, imitating her. At this point, the barking of a large dog was heard very close by. The mayor’s girl, thinking it was the one from her garden, come to avenge her, began to scream: “Here, mutt, here!… Bring her in, bring her in!” “At her, mutt, at her, she’s here!” her friends shouted in unison. The threatened girl began to look in all directions, frightened, and although the dog was nowhere to be seen, as the barking grew ever nearer, she began to run desperately, seeking the entrance to the village by a shortcut. “At her, mutt!” the others continued shouting. “Eat her, eat her!” And seeing that the dog did not appear, they followed the fugitive, throwing stones at her, with one of which they finally broke her head. “They’ll kill me!” cried the poor girl, putting her hands to her head. But when, upon withdrawing them, she saw them stained with blood, her terror knew no bounds, and her screams could be heard for half a league. Then the pursuers retreated in terror, their intention not to be killed. It was more than enough to frighten the fugitive; but upon returning to the avenue, they met the dog, which, unfortunately, was not the mayor’s. They were completely stunned by its presence and fled in disarray; but the animal, “I love one and I’ll leave the other,” had its fill of tearing clothes; and God knows what more it would have torn if, with its shouts and barking, some people hadn’t come running to chase the beast away with sticks and led the innocent creatures back to town, well deserving of the fright they suffered, considering what they had made the poor, battered girl suffer. Chapter 4. At the corner of the plaza and one of the streets leading into it, there was a house smaller than all the others that followed in line. Below the balcony of the only floor it had, and above the main door, a long panel crowned with the coat of arms of Spain read the following: NATIONAL TOBACCO STORE SAN QUINTÍN ESTABLISHMENT LIQUIDS AND OTHER FOODSTUFFS Entering through that door, one could see the reason for the sign on a counter overloaded with small pots and pans; on a large oil can with a tap, and some white bottles filled with brandy of as many names; on a spacious shelf filled with packets of cigars and matchboxes, smoking books, large pieces of cod, bread cakes, skeins of thread, chickpeas, and other articles, as varied in nature as they were small in quantity; on a few tables symmetrically placed outside the counter; on a particular barrel or swollen hide that could be glimpsed in the darkness at the back… and in a thousand other details typical of such establishments, which the discreet reader knows as well as I do. Behind the counter sat our old acquaintance Juana, the wife of Simón Cerojo. Like him, she had grown fat and more slender, and her clothes had taken on a somewhat pretentious cut. But, unlike her husband, her brow had furrowed, and her whole countenance soured, as fortune favored them. Because fortune had favored them. To see this, it was enough to take a look at their establishment, in just one section of which more capital was employed than the entire old grocery store… and allow me a brief digression on this subject. Thanks to the tobacco shop Simón easily obtained, the savings he brought from the village, and the credit, although very limited, that was soon opened to him in some wholesale warehouses, he doubled his capital in his first year in the town. In the second, he dedicated himself, as an extraordinary person, to making small, well-secured loans at variable interest rates, depending on the person and circumstances: between one peseta per duro per week, if the needy person was a well-established amateur gambler , and 30 percent per year, if he was a conveniently established artist . This new industry allowed him to expand his main businesses somewhat ; with such a good hand, that at the end of his two years in the town, he found himself with a small capital of more than six thousand duros, free and paid for. He then became a true “caldista” (a kind of caldist); that is, he didn’t spend his time on parsimonious oil, wine, and brandy, but rather supplied his establishment with these items wholesale ; which allowed him to make larger loans, more often, and under more attractive conditions. –The result of these and other combinations was that on the day we met Simón at the Town Hall and Juana at her establishment, they were owners of the house he occupied, of the contents of the shop, and of a considerable surplus in constant movement; all of which represented a value of many thousands of duros. On this front, then, the affairs of Simón and Juana had been going swimmingly. Not so the rest; that is, those that were closely related to Juana’s vanity, and Simón’s equally brief, though more concealed, aspirations. All the efforts of the former, all her meditations, all her sleepless nights, and all her consultations in the mirror before giving birth in the The most public places in the town, a stretch of the sea and full of glitter, failed to place her in a higher hierarchy than that corresponding to the name “the tavern keeper,” with which she was designated from the first day she became noted for her outlandish arrogance. Although little warned, she did not fail to recognize that this setback would forever remove her, in that center, from the height to which she had hoped to leap . The first effect of an introduction is never forgotten in society, especially when it is small and presumptuous. Well imbued with this truth, Juana felt it in her soul, as a bull feels the first pair of banderillas in its neck; she became harsher and more brutal than usual, and promised to sweep away everything she found before her , believing that she could demonstrate, better than with sweetness and simplicity, that she was as worthy as the most eminent of occupying the position that was not granted to her. With this, she managed to acquire a certain celebrity in the town, which only exasperated her. A single example will give an idea of ​​the height to which Juana’s folly had reached. There were many dances and receptions there, wonderfully lively; and, naturally, no one remembered to invite the innkeeper. For these inattentions drove Juana mad. “I know very well,” she said, “that I am not yet familiar with these ceremonies, and I would be very careful not to attend them; but the will is what is appreciated. Why is there no bad note of attention for me, just because I am a stranger? Would some of those boastful women be put off by remembering me, when I am richer than many of them? Well, it seems as if they are all marquises!” And the husband of one sells Munilla cloth and esparto ropes, and the other sells a soldier’s _pecajuana_ and _engüent_, and he owes me even the salt with which he seasons the little he eats!… Well, my husband sells wine and soap. What difference does one make or break? Her daughter, also saturated with these maxims, had barely begun to attend the well-behaved school her mother had intended to educate her in when she had to be withdrawn. The girl was already somewhat wild by nature, and with Juana’s preaching, she became untamable. In the whispers, in the smiles, even in the most innocent games of her companions, she saw mockery and contempt; and in this belief, she made them all look like Easter eggs; she fought with some of them, and ended up returning home every day, weeping for her dreamed grievances even from her teachers. In this way, the girl became as unlikeable to her classmates as her mother was to all who approached her. Because of this, she was removed from school and sent to the public school, where, in Juana’s opinion, she wasn’t taught as much, but was regarded “with due respect.” Simón’s wife had been in torment for more than three years when we met her again, not because she noticed that in the town they were doing to her what she had done to the others in the village, nor because she longed to regain her abandoned little throne; nor, in short, because her memory was tormented by the wise advice of the old priest, but because she longed for a wider field in which to expand, another, more turbulent world in which to reign for what one was and not for what one had been. And day after day she preached to her husband the advisability of settling down _on a grand scale_ in the provincial capital, where, according to her, neither the rich were vain nor the poor envious. Simón listened to her without saying a word, even pretending not to hear her; but the truth was that deep down in his heart he hated the town as much as his wife did. Simón couldn’t forgive those people for treating him as a person of little more or less importance, “at the most critical moments for the life of the town, and, consequently, for that of the citizens,” as he said in more than one monologue that his wife never heard. It was a small price to pay that they didn’t remember him to invite him to a private dance, or to a social gathering of more or less importance; but that there was never a place for his name on the list of council members; that he wasn’t added never to a commission of respect that was to represent certain interests of the people in the provincial government, or in Madrid, or before the town council itself; that his opinion was not sought, or even willingly tolerated, in the little circle formed in the square by important people, into which he only entered by force of arm, so to speak, or almost less; that he was considered, in short, a small-time tavern keeper, something that made him lose his usual serenity and put him on the verge of throwing everything away, even if he didn’t sell it, and leaving for another piece of land less prone to these “village miseries.” But Simón, who was not as foolish as his wife, kept these feelings in the depths of his heart, and, in the meantime, was busy acquiring wings with which to fly. That is why he was seen to be attending so assiduously to his tavern and his tobacco shop… and to his guaranteed loans. Hating that intolerable society as much as Joanna did, he only sought to round himself out just enough to bid a farewell and fall into the midst of a better one; but in such a way that the relics of the past would not in the least damage his current importance. He was convinced that, without a similar precaution, he and his wife would be the same tavern keepers everywhere , no matter how large their fortunes. It is clear, then, that, at the bottom of the matter, Joanna and her husband were in perfect agreement. And having clearly stated this, because it matters, let us return to the thread of our story. Chapter 5. So the girl, battered in the avenue, noticed the presence of the dog among her implacable offenders, by the barking of one and the screams of the others, she restrained her tears and, with intimate complacency, turned to witness the destruction the enraged animal seemed to be making on the clothes and skin of those ill-advised creatures. Whether that was the mayor’s dog or not, the fact remained that he treated them all equally, and that he was avenging her completely on all of them…. But wasn’t it possible that after finishing off the six unfortunate girls, he would turn to the seventh, for the very reason that he didn’t know anyone and didn’t hold back on scruples? This sensible thought, which suddenly assaulted the poor girl’s mind, made her retreat; and, quickening her steps as much as she could, and returning to remembering her wound and weeping, she reached the town and ran nonstop to the tobacco shop we know well, which she entered a few moments after us, and at the same time as Simón Cerojo, his face changed and his fists clenched in anger, so much so that he didn’t even notice the girl, whose face was stained with blood, having wiped her tears with her hands after pressing them to her head. But Juana did , and immediately threw down the work she was working on; she jumped over the counter, overcome with terror, and taking the child in her arms, “My child!” she cried. “What blood is that?” Then Simon noticed the child and, forgetting his troubles for a moment, ran to her too. “Have you fallen?” he asked her with affectionate longing. “Have they hit you? Why are you bleeding?… Speak, my child, for God’s sake!” The child, after sobbing for a while, recounted, point by point, everything that had happened to her. “So the judge’s daughter, and the Indian’s daughter, and the mayor’s daughter,” Simon immediately exclaimed in a spiteful tone, “are the ones who have insulted you the most, because they thought less of playing with you! The daughters of those people who flatter me and pamper me when they need a couple of duros to eat that day, or half a dozen ounces to put on a card, or to pay for a trick that could put them to shame—if they have any left! But I swear to you that, however insignificant she may be, I will bring her to their faces—and some more too!” Juana, cursing everyone and everything, began to wash her daughter’s wound, which, by the way, was insignificant, with fresh water. And now reassured on this point, Simon told his wife everything that had happened. what had happened at the meeting that had just been held at the Town Hall, adding a little extra color, so as to make his anger more justified and his speeches more effective, which he repeated verbatim. “And what do you intend to do after all the disappointment you’re suffering and all the displeasure we’re having with these jerks in frock coats?” asked Juana, who never missed an opportunity to talk about her quarrel. “What am I going to do?” said Simón with his little bit of anger. “What I’ve been thinking about for three years, ever since I learned that in this herd I would always have to go to the back; what I would have done then if I had the solution in my hands, as I do today: bring more than four braggarts to public shame, and then immediately get going with the music somewhere else. ” Juana saw the heavens open. “The same thing I’ve told you so many times!” she exclaimed, joy playing on her face. What need do we have to suffer what we are suffering here? With what we already know of this deal, how much could we not gain by establishing him in the city? “No, Juana, no!… Enough of the tavern! If we were to enter the city with her, we would remain tavern keepers until the end of time. And if we were content to be tavern keepers, even rich ones, I would not leave this town, where I have earned a fortune in four years, and could earn even more in a little more. But there is a noble ambition that rules over you and me more strongly than the three pence of a good profit; and that ambition is at odds with hands stained with red wine and clothes that smell of aniseed. So, then, since my wings allow it, we will leave here flying high, so that the city can see how we fall, but not where we come from. This is the way; that, as far as I have observed, disgust and reservations range from _nothing_ to _quite a bit_; from _quite a bit_ upwards, we are all equal, and everything is fine for us…. We have _just enough_: who will be able to prove that we don’t have even _more than enough_? I don’t know what the priest of my town would say to this; but I have been around the world a lot and met many men, and my experience has taught me. What Simón didn’t know about the priest, we know. When one of his parishioners said to him: “Do you know, Don Justo, that Simón is getting his way?… that he is now a rich man? ” “I don’t doubt it,” the saintly man would reply. “But do they give it more importance?… is he happier than here? This is the problem.” Chapter 6. To find the protagonist of this true story again, the light from the candle in his tavern would no longer be enough. The trace of his steps has been erased in the past fifteen years, and please excuse my way of pointing out, since we heard him speak, what is faithfully recorded at the end of the previous chapter. But the fact remains that we must find him; and since it could be very unpleasant if we tried to do so by digging here and there into every single detail of his past life, which, moreover, would not lead us to the end we propose, since, by special privilege I enjoy, it is possible for me to find him on the first attempt, let the reader come with me to finish more quickly and avoid an unpleasant moment for our character. We are in the city, on one of its principal streets and in front of a doorway that is not very clean, but very spacious; we climb the first flight of the wide staircase that leads from it; we pass through, without pausing, the door to the mezzanine, on which can be read, on a polished metal plate, the following sign: SIMÓN C. DE LOS PEÑASCALES; We ignore everything in our path as we enter a long, narrow room; we walk through its entire length and stop at the door of a study. There is a high mahogany desk, overloaded with books and papers; some gutta-percha stools, two maps, a barometer, a washstand, and a few other such things. Next to the desk is an armchair, and in it sits a man about fifty years old. A fresh-faced, broad, smiling man, with trimmed gray sideburns, a blue velvet cap, a luxurious dressing gown, a white shirtfront, and a light black satin tie over loose, shiny bands. That man, my dear reader, currently absorbed in examining some papers filled with numbers of various colors, is, for you and me… but be careful not to tell anyone!, Simón Cerojo; for the society in which he lives, Señor Don Simón de los Peñascales; and for the merchant’s market where he figures prominently, Simón C. de los Peñascales. That folder and that cabinet are his office; and those people working silently at modest lecterns in the living room where we are sitting are the employees of his house. But there is more. When Don Simón suspends his duties twice a day, he goes upstairs; and crossing carpeted rooms— carpeted, as it sounds—he enters a luxuriously furnished closet , where he changes his dressing gown into an elegant street suit; he takes off his cap, on which occasion it can be seen crowned by a bald head that is certainly not at all aristocratic, and puts on his grave, shining top hat. Before going out into the street, he passes into another closet opposite his own, with the ostentatious living room between them; and there he finds, usually alone, and rarely with visitors, a lady as stout as himself, stern of countenance and wealthy though coarsely dressed, already a young woman of about twenty-two, broad of shoulders and hips; well -built; with eyes and hair as black as jet; white teeth and a dark complexion; well-proportioned and graceful of figure, and dressed with all the rigor of fashion…; a good-looking woman in every sense of the word. These two ladies are the wife and daughter, respectively, of Don Simón; He bids them farewell from the door if they are alone, or politely greets the persons accompanying them, and sets out in search of his friends for the customary stroll. If it is not a question of going out into the street, but simply of having lunch or dinner, he uses the same ceremony, but without removing his gown or cap; and when a maid announces that soup is on the table, the family passes into the elegant dining room, and there a well-seasoned meal is served; after which, Don Simón takes an hour’s nap on the bed; his lady slumbers in an armchair, and the plump girl meditates, or reads, or looks out through the window at the street. And in this tone everything else inherent to the domestic and social life of this most respectable family. Dear reader, I hate digressions; but there are cases in which they cannot be dispensed with, and this is one of them. You would be the first to deny the plausibility of this last transformation of the aforementioned _grocer_ ; and I do not want the reality of my characters to be doubted, especially when I write pure history. So arm yourself with patience, and listen, for I will try to be brief and even entertaining. Chapter 7. Firm in his stated intention to leave the town as soon as possible, Simón Cerojo, from the day we heard him speak of it with his wife, devoted himself exclusively to managing, but with great determination, his income and credits; an indispensable task that occupied him for several months. When he had his entire fortune in his pocket, so to speak, and after having publicly shamed some of his debtors who had most tormented his pride; After, I repeat, having exposed to the entire town the difficulties of some and the perpetual tricks of others, thus igniting a civil war between many of those high-class families, he took a small part of his wealth and said: “This much is for the wings, and this much is for the beak to paint them. ” He immediately threw himself into the diligence with his family and his treasure and set off for Madrid; a good school, as he said, to gain air and character to show off later in the city. Once at court, he placed his daughter in a good school, promising not to remove her from it until she was fully instructed in the arts. the most distinguished young lady could know; and to this end, he paid lavishly, in advance, for a year’s stay, and promised to do the same for subsequent years. Free from this concern, he devoted himself to touring with Juana, promenades, theaters, and all kinds of spectacles, studying the demands of fashion here, and how to display them there. But his favorite pastime was Congress; and whether with his wife, or alone, it was rare to find a session that he did not witness from the public gallery. It will not have been forgotten that Simón was very given to politics and eloquence. That is why he sought a good school there in which to nurture his inclinations; not precisely because he hoped to use it one day from those luxurious seats, as father of the country, but because—to put it mildly—he judged it indispensable for entering with ease into the terrain to which he planned to establish himself shortly. And as if fate took pleasure in smoothing all the paths he took, he got the idea of ​​playing a lottery ticket, and he landed, as if nothing had happened, more than half a million. This unexpected blow put him on the verge of thwarting his mature plans, inciting him to be satisfied with the pampering of fate and to stay and live off his earnings in Madrid. But since there was something innate in Simón that compelled him to always walk, even without paying attention to the stopping place, he rejected the temptation, arguing that Madrid was too big for anyone to take notice of a man like him; and he wanted, even if he didn’t try in any concrete way, to stand out, even a little, from the common people around him. The only thing he did, which he hadn’t thought of doing when he left the city, was to stay in Madrid for four months instead of one, and acquire those three additional degrees of civilization that he would display in the city. When both he and his wife believed that all traces of the tavern had been fairly erased from their personalities, Simón took letters to the capital of his province; and, his trunks well stocked with clothing, he left Madrid with Juana, leaving the girl highly recommended at school. His only regret upon leaving the court was not having been able to find his general there, who would undoubtedly have been pleased to learn of the rapid change in the humble attendant’s fortunes. But His Excellency had been more clumsy than usual this time in the pronouncement he was plotting to honestly acquire the second title; the government surprised him and exiled him to the Philippines a few days before Simón arrived in Madrid. Imagine the effect that the appearance of a man advertising with bills of exchange, drawn on the principal trading houses, for eighty thousand duros, payable cash, would have had on a second-rate commercial center. Public curiosity having been keenly aroused, the event was discussed at length, with the assumption, not without rational grounds, that a person who had such resources at hand must have had much more in reserve. There were those who, having already placed the matter under investigation, claimed to have heard something very similar to what the reader and I know of our character’s story; but since the names of the two did not exactly coincide, and there were those who very formally asserted that the newcomer was a wealthy businessman from Madrid who had moved, the gossip subsided, and he was readily accepted, despite certain unpleasant aftertastes that occasionally surfaced in him, and especially in his wife, as a man of importance, very generous and attentive as well…. And this was the pure truth. Let us now see why the names of the Simón of the city and those of the Simón of the village did not coincide . He observed, while living in the town, that when his surname Cerojo, synonymous with ciruelo in the country, was pronounced loudly on certain occasions, it caused a very unfortunate effect on the public; and wanting to avoid in the future the inconveniences to which this circumstance could give rise, he resolved, upon leaving the town, to to sign from then on with another surname that, while still belonging to his family, was less vulgar than his father’s first. A difficult task, indeed; for upon reviewing, from memory, all his ancestry on both lines, he found that it seemed to have been formed in a virgin forest, as were his ancestors _Carrascas, Bardales, Cajigas, and Abedules_. Eventually, among the most remote of his offspring, he found certain _Peñascales_ that suited him, since this surname, standing out from the forestry routine of the others, besides being very sonorous, had its overbearing overtones. But it was not a matter of completely abandoning the one he had used until then, for more than one reason that he kept in mind. So, in his purpose of conciliating everything, he resolved to adopt from then on, for all documents of a personal and private nature, the signature simply _Simón de los Peñascales_; and for those related to his public life, that is, for the nom de guerre, the most prominent of Simón C. de los Peñascales. Since the now Don Simón was not fully acquainted with the details of the commercial center where he had established himself, he devoted the first year, while studying it in depth, to advantageous discounts and loans on properties; businesses that provided him with comfortable and generous profits. The following year, he registered as a capitalist merchant. In the third year, he launched two ships. In the fourth year, all of the above, plus two magnificent houses under construction in the best part of the city. By the fifth year, his firm was one of the most respectable in the city, and one of the most respected outside of it. Then he received notice from Madrid that his daughter was well-versed in all the useful and decorative subjects that could be taught to a young woman of good society, and he went with his mistress to collect her. But instead of returning directly home, the three of them made a detour through Paris; And with the excuse that the father wished to compensate his daughter for the long confinement in which he had kept her, the mother spent an entire winter perfecting her civilization in the capital of France, a school that the husband did not waste to acquire new tinctures of the man of the day. It was upon his return from this trip that Don Simón’s family truly began to emerge . He, always very fond of studying his experience in the book, recalling what had happened in the town with his wife’s intemperance, tried to ensure that it did not reproduce itself in the city as much as possible. And I say as much as possible because the former tavern keeper knew only too well that, despite all the pruning shears of civilization, Doña Juana would shed her acorns as soon as she was shaken a little. Don Simón intended to take advantage of the wealth of cultural knowledge his daughter would undoubtedly bring with her from school, to give her salons and her mistress a certain flair that Doña Juana could not provide, and to always have in the young woman a sort of court of consultation in difficult times. I mean to say that until the entire family returned from Paris, the family was not established at the height of its resources, nor did Don Simón allow his wife to open her salons or acquire any visitors other than the most indispensable. Of course, even so, from under the damasks of the _great lady_ the apron of the tavern peeked out more than once. But what could be done? On the other hand, from that time on, that house declared itself the center of the town’s good society; By now, Doña Juana was drooling with pleasure at the attentions she was receiving: some sincere, it is true, because they were from people no more knowledgeable than herself, and others, born of the diabolical intention of giving credence to the nonsense of the high-ranking local woman; but all self-interested, because, after all, in that house there was a lot of dancing and good dining, which is nowhere disdained these days. Fortunately, Julieta—I don’t know if I’ve said before that was the girl’s name—was extremely precocious in her physical development, and not retarded in her intellectual development; so that her mother had in her, not only an auxiliary active, but a prudent advisor to _do the honors_ of his house from the moment it declared itself, as has been indicated, the center of _good tone_ of the city. And so the years passed. Don Simón, increasing his wealth prodigiously in each one , no doubt because of that “money calls money” thing; Doña Juana, sweating pleasure and vanity through every pore of her body, and Julieta transforming into an arrogant young woman, the despair of beardless men, coveted by tall men and feted by all. It is in this flourishing period that Don Simón’s character _reaches a crisis_; or rather, when Don Simón _enters into character_. He is no longer a man who loves _eminently_ liberal situations “because in them everyone can talk about whatever suits them, even if they don’t understand it”; On the contrary, he is a passionate defender of governments of order, which, without denying the liberties that correspond to them, support each person in their sphere, and do not feed, in certain classes, senseless ambitions. He hates all kinds of tyrannies; and for this reason, not allowing himself to be imposed on by his laborers and employees, after haggling over their wages quarter by quarter, he pays them religiously what was agreed upon. He is also a philanthropist; and if he is not seen to be lavish with the poor who come to his door, it is not for lack of good will, nor for excess of economy, but because he does not want to feed vices or encourage laziness. He believes in the moral progress of the people; but under the paternal direction of governments, and with the effort… of the years. As for material progress, he protects it lavishly; but around his house, as, in his opinion, every citizen should do, so that progress can be felt and palpable everywhere . He has bought many lands in his village, and has distributed them among his former neighbors… at rent; but doing them the favor of not seizing their bedclothes when, out of well-proven need, they stop paying him… one year; the second year he changes his conduct if the abuse is repeated; and this, solely out of respect for his rights, not because he has any need for the miserable savings of those poor peasants. He has not refurbished his old little house in the square with a clumsy tile , nor has he set foot in it again; and this is understandable in a man of his circumstances; with the death of the priest, Don Justo, what other person was left there with whom he “could understand”? For the rest, he continues to be the man given to grand phrases and poise in speaking, and he has not enriched his erudition nor reformed his spelling. But he doesn’t need the former in the life he leads, nor is the latter indispensable to him, dictating, as he does, even his private correspondence. And as for his frequent perorations, go and find out that those culminating words of his oratory, which are his delight, he writes with a q! Far from this harming his importance, everyone grants him the right to use it for everything; so that, if public opinion is to be believed , Don Simón is a great person, that is to say, prudent in counsel, eloquent in his speeches, wealthy in wealth, an honor to commerce, a benefit to the city, a worthy patrician, and whatever else you wish. Add to this that he smiles very little, and never laughs; that he shaves every day, and wears very fine, very loose clothes; the chest, collar, and cuffs of his shirt are very prominent, and the brim of his hat is very curved; Add to this, I say, these very serious circumstances, and it will be better understood why Don Simón has become, in the region where he lives, the indispensable man: indispensable in the meetings, indispensable in the commissions inside and outside, and indispensable in the Municipality, which no longer knows what to do if he does not preside over it. Don Simón, then, is now a PROUD MAN; and so that nothing is lacking, he is even aware of his importance. And he is, not because those who praise him tell him so, but because once , seeing himself so high, he decided to look around him, and observed that both in the plaza and outside the plaza, the men who gave life to the modern peoples and imprinted character on the era, were neither of nobler stock, nor wiser, nor richer, nor did they have better spelling than him. Then, penetrated by the grandeur of his high rank, he lost even those few remaining impulses of expansive frankness, and became solemn and ceremonious even in the most trivial acts of his life. And here, dear reader, he links up with the matter we discussed in the previous chapter; that is, he concludes the digression and continues the story. Chapter 8. There was in that city, as there is in almost all, a center or circle or casino for the recreation of the spirits of certain people who spent their lives striving to straighten out the various fortunes of lucrative businesses; and among the partners there were many who, not liking gambling, although lawful, nor other recreations tolerated in the establishment, formed a clique sui generis, a kind of senate moderating the turmoil that constantly reigned in cabinets and corridors; The Senate, auctoritate propria, was always located in the main hall. It was made up of the most serious men of banking, the forum, and urban property; and to say that they were very serious, in keeping with the rigor of modern bourgeoisie, demonstrates how much frank and easy laughter was among them little less than a mortal sin . But not so the smile, which they knew and used, albeit soberly, in all its characteristics and expressions. For it is also worth noting that those gentlemen accepted only the golden mean in all things. With this, I believe it unnecessary to say that in politics they were all ” dispassionate men of order and rational progress,” implacable enemies of all absolute affirmation, or in their own language, “of all exaggeration.” From this, in turn, it follows that they accepted this same policy only as another reason for conversation in their friendly conversations. And to make their task even easier, they took as the basis of their dissertations the ingenious concepts of a certain newspaper, to which they had blindly subordinated their judgment. That newspaper never established a principle without a “but”; it never displayed a color that could not be confused with another at the slightest interposition of an artificial phrase, which was never lacking in handy. It passed for a reactionary among liberals, and among reactionaries for a liberal; no political situation was “good enough” for it while its ideas prevailed, nor “bad enough” when they did not. Its style was bombastic, sonorous, clear in appearance, turbid at heart, always syrupy, and seductive through study; and the words “order, progress, peace, religion, and fatherland” leaped out at the moment it was posted in its columns. It was, in essence, the written representation of the frozen spirit of the age in which it was born. But to the point of doubting whether it came from such a father, or, on the contrary, whether it was he who had formed that spirit; who fed and nourished the soul of this new race, a true plague of the current century; a race without convictions, without faith, without enthusiasm; who call “order” everything that guarantees a peaceful digestion, and “progress” everything that increases its wealth; who understand “fatherland” as their domestic home, and “society” as a group of citizens registered to quietly sell and buy bales of cotton, Castilian flour, or government paper; a race that compromises with everything, except a quarter of a pound price increase. To this race belonged the men of the aforementioned clique, in which Don Simón was always given the seat of honor, not so much because of his commercial importance, but because no one read better than he, with a stronger and more sonorous voice, nor with better “sensibility,” the editorial articles of the newspaper to those gathered every night. But let’s get to the point. Those men, who had watched without alarm, for many years, how certain _leveling_ tendencies had spread and propagated , and how the national character had gradually been lowered , corrupting that set of qualities that once made of the Spanish type, “the proverbial model of gentlemen”; those men, I say, who had seen all this and much more, without trembling for the next day, observed once that the preaching, the tolerance, the concessions, that whole broad- based policy that they praised without fail and in which they believed without knowing it, was already bearing its natural and logical fruits; that those multitudes for whom they had never done anything, and of whom they had never thought except to exploit their labor in exchange for a meager piece of bread, rose imposingly, by virtue of the wings lent to them by a misunderstood freedom; that that rabble, as they called the disinherited multitude when it was docile, was preparing, torch in hand , to impose itself on the entire world and to transform, in a given instant, the way of being of the family and of society. And there came the trembling of voices and the gnashing of teeth!… Because they feared for their homes, for their fields, for their factories, for their treasures; that is, their God, their country, their soul. “But we must defend ourselves!” they exclaimed, determined to do something heroic. And the power of selfishness! Even in that sad situation, they thought, above all, of pulling the trigger. I will say nothing about the temper of the weapon they chose for such a fierce battle. The reader will get to know it and will say of it what they see fit. I, a mere historian, stick to the facts, and I will relate them to you. At that time, an electoral campaign for the founding fathers of the country was opening; and, according to the people we are discussing, nothing was more effective against the threatening storm than sending to Parliament men of order, of rational progress, implacable enemies of all exaggeration, and rich and independent, to boot. But, narrowing it down to that town, who among them was rich enough, self-sacrificing enough, generous enough, and even eloquent enough to successfully accept such a commitment, and capable of abandoning, without breaking his heart, the management of his own business and the comforts of his home? It wasn’t even questioned: Don Simón, and no one else but him. One evening, the proposal was made to him in the midst of a social gathering; and, frankly, nothing more flattering could have been offered. Perhaps his friends were anticipating a desire that had been intoxicating his soul for a long time. Don Simón must not be forgotten; and bear in mind that when he reached the social position in which we now find him, the limits of his aspirations were lost from view. Furthermore , we already know that deep down in his conscience he believed himself to be sharp, eloquent, subtle , and mischievous. How can we doubt that he was the first to understand that no one was more worthy of holding the office he wished to be entrusted with? But he was very careful not to let it be known. On the contrary, he played the small and unworthy, and even asked for the whole night to reflect. When he returned home, he called his wife and said solemnly: “Juana: the country demands my cooperation, and I need to make the sacrifice of lending it. ” “The country demands… what?” asked the plump lady, wondering whether the word was to be eaten or sown. “The country desires me to represent it in the Cortes,” added Don Simón calmly. “And what is that? ” “Well, it’s quite clear, woman. It’s about me being a deputy for this province. ” “Snails!” exclaimed the great lady, beside herself, forgetting at that moment all the considerations that had enslaved her since she became rich. The husband frowned upon hearing this spontaneous interjection from his wife’s mouth, and said sternly to her: “I warn you that that word is not in the best taste for a lady of your… circumstances. ” “Leave that alone for now, it will all be sorted out,” replied Doña Juana with admirable disdain. “And tell me: if you become a deputy, will you sit on those velvet benches we could see from the trench? ” “Of course.” –And will they call you _your Grace_? –Naturally. –And will you rub shoulders with the ministers? –That’s reasonable. –And will we live in Madrid? –Regularly. –And will they publish us in the papers? –Perhaps so. –And will we marry Juliet off to an ambassador? –I won’t say no, if it comes to it. –Aha! And with that we’ll once and for all scare away so many pests who are buzzing around your daughter’s bags here. –That will be one of the reasons that will most encourage me to take you with me. –Well, look, Simón: in case it backs out and you don’t see any other way, take that country at its word. And since Don Simón thought the same as his wife, he didn’t sleep that night, counting the hours until he could present himself _in the country_ to tell it that he accepted its proposal… “so as not to disdain it.” Dawn finally broke; And since moments are precious on such occasions, our personage did not wait for nightfall to see his friends. He immediately sought them out at their houses; they arranged to meet at noon at the candidate’s house, and there the preliminaries of the battle were discussed at length. To wage it with greater success, a rural district was chosen; each man was assigned the post that corresponded to him, according to his connections in those towns, or his influence, and the conclave was dissolved, in order to put the discussed plan into effect without loss of a single moment. Chapter 9. The preliminary work was a flood of letters that flooded the district. There was something for everyone: for those who should, for those who desired, and for those who were worthy, and each was addressed in the appropriate tone. Those written by Don Simón, who had less contact with the people of the district than his assistants, amounted to the following, except for certain contingencies and other stylistic details: “My dear friend and sir: The afflictive circumstances that the nation is going through oblige independent and upright men to make great sacrifices. With this in mind, and also yielding to the demands of my friends and many other knowledgeable and well- established people, I have decided to present myself as an independent candidate for deputy to the Cortes for that district in the upcoming elections. And since you are one of the men who wield the most legitimate influence in it, I come to you requesting your cooperation, in the hope that you will give me it completely. For which I thank you in advance and once again offer my sincere thanks to you, my most affectionate friend and faithful servant, simón de los peñascales.” The most pleasant responses these and other letters received were as follows: “My dear sir and friend of all my consideration and respect: My pleasure and that of my friends has been great upon learning, through your kindness of the current reports, that you were running as a candidate for this district; and of course, you can count on our low importance. However, I must warn you, for your administration, that other influences have already been brought to your attention that weigh heavily among these people, so I fear that the success of our battle may not be as complete as you would wish. In any case, and because of that saying that “the eye of the master fattens the horse,” it will be very convenient for you to decide, without losing a moment, to tour the district. To this end, and for whatever may happen to you, I offer myself to you, as always, most affectionate friend and faithful servant Qbsm, CELSO LÉPERO.” Having made the initial study of the terrain based on these and other similar and no more flattering data; Having heard the verdict from the electoral center, and having dispatched the essentials with the necessary letters and instructions, Don Simón packed his suitcase; filled all its spaces with cigars from the tobacconist’s; put on a flirtatious traveling suit, made ad hoc; adorned his hands with his most voluminous rings; threw over his neck the longest, thickest, most dazzling chain he owned; and riding on a nag with a bad coat but very resistant, he left the city at dawn one day, fifteen before the one on which The elections were about to begin. He arrived at the first town in the district, and there, at the door of an old inn, to whose posts and railings were tied as many horses harnessed in the local fashion, were up to six distinguished electoral agents. The six received him, hat in hand; Don Simón extended his to each of them, with the accompaniment of an affectionate smile; and then, opening the wide and respectful street for him, they forced him to go first into the dining room, where a table was set for a dozen and a half guests, and up to twelve new personages wrapped in coarse cloaks, who, upon seeing the candidate enter, rose and took off their hats. These twelve were the aides-de-camp, so to speak, of the other six, who could well be called the general staff of the aspiring deputy. The room smelled worse than a stable at that point; For the atmosphere there was composed of its essence , of brandy, of common leaf tobacco, and of others no more supple or voluptuous; but it seemed to Don Simón of amber and ambrosia, judging himself already elected thanks to the efforts of those assistants, all famous in the country for their glorious electoral campaigns. The candidate was given the presidency of the table by acclamation, and three of his staff and six of his subordinates sat on each side of him. This requisite fulfilled, and the indispensable witticisms said, and the customary hand-rubbings performed, a Maritornes was served, in the depths of a soup tureen, half a pound of noodles; black must was poured abundantly into the appropriate glasses; the tin ladle was passed from plate to plate; And amid sips, snorts, belches, and clicks of heels, the discussion began on the point that brought together such distinguished figures. According to the news brought by the twelve hooded figures, who knew the district like the back of their hands and had just covered it all, following the previous and accurate instructions of the six leaders who were also present, the battle was going to be very hard-fought, and their success was very doubtful. There were three candidates who had to fight. One was a ministerial candidate, another from the radical opposition, and the other, Don Simón, an indefinite, independent candidate. The first, although unknown in the country and without roots anywhere, was the most fearsome, because with the government’s pincers, he had almost all the city councils by the head. The opposition party was leading the great unconscious masses; and as for Don Simón, at that moment he could count on nothing but those around him. But even so, he knew full well that he wasn’t the most helpless of the three. There were smiles at his side that were worth half the election, and gestures and faces and, above all, a record that, at the very least, guaranteed him a fight to the death and a glorious defeat. He was informed, as a very important fact, that the opposition candidate was giving each voter who voted for him half a pound of bread and a sip of wine. Nothing was known about the ministerial position, because the election was run by the town councils, as the rumor mill would have it. It was, therefore, necessary, to win sympathy and followers, to do a little more for the voters than the most flamboyant of the candidates; and since Don Simón was rich, and on certain occasions didn’t hold back, he authorized his agents to make it known in the district that he was giving his voters the same as the opposition candidate, plus two dozen chestnuts, and, in a pinch , a two-penny cigar. These largesses, in the opinion of his assistants, might have made victory somewhat easier . But if, in the final analysis, the battle presented certain difficulties, wasn’t Don Simón an independent candidate? Couldn’t he, without diminishing his dignity, declare himself, in extremis, an adherent, and thus obtain the aid of the authorities, which he would give in preference to the other candidate, a mere political adventurer? In these and other situations, and devoured by the diners, in addition to the well-prepared stews , two dozen chickens in sauce, half an arroba of stewed meat, and a cauldron of rice pudding, Don Simón gave him a bundle of cigars from the tobacconist’s; he charged each of his twelve subordinates with the utmost care in fulfilling the commission they had been given; he favored them with an affectionate handshake; he paid for the eighteen horses’ meals and the feed for as many, plus some horseshoes that had to be put on three or four of the last; and followed by the usual half-dozen personages who formed his staff, he went down to the corral. There the seven mounted and set off at a brisk trot , amid the sneering of those who remained at the inn and the eager curiosity of the neighbors , who had flocked to the vicinity of the inn to meet the candidate, whose wealth was being talked about in the village. There began, for Don Simón, if not the most difficult, then the most trying part of the electoral campaign. Chapter 10. According to what had been agreed upon at the table, in certain towns along the route there was no need to dismount, as they offered no difficulty at all; At most, he could stop for a moment to greet someone, for an attention that would be greatly appreciated, from such an influential person. But, on the other hand, he had to give his all in those dubious localities or those loyal to the enemy. And with these intentions, walking in a wing where the terrain permitted, or in single file if the path didn’t allow for more, but with Don Simón always occupying the place of preference, the poor man’s chest swelled at the impulse of his vanity, believing in good faith that all those courtesies shown him were the result of a spontaneous and disinterested adherence to his person. And he was tired of hearing about certain village chieftains, perpetual electoral instigators, for whom it is a pleasure to accompany candidates, and to eat here, and dine there, and have breakfast there with them at their expense, and frequently to arrange a business deal each election after each stroll! For Don Simón forgot all this when he found himself surrounded by so many gentlemen. The cacique was led by one of the six chieftains, a wiry, dark-skinned man with a long nose and penetrating gaze; almost beardless, though already approaching old age; not very talkative, but on the point, and distrustful even of his own shadow. He knew, one by one, and with their merits, vices, bad habits, and needs, all the electors of the district, and, consequently, how to interest or subdue them. This circumstance was what gave him the greatest strength and prominence as an incomparable and irresistible instigator. He was also the perpetual mayor of his town and a born councilor of half a dozen neighboring municipalities, and was very well connected with the women of Madrid, who owed him favors similar to those he was granting to Don Simón. His name was Don Celso Lépero, and he was the author of the letter we have reproduced above. The other five auxiliaries were similar; but not as famous or as powerful, although they were very much so, as Don Celso. And back to the story. As they passed near a small village, after three hours of continuous march, Lépero said to Don Simón: “Although I consider these people entirely ours, it would be very appropriate for you to stop for a moment to greet the one who manages them to your liking. This Mayorazgo, for that is his name, is a somewhat crude man, but very content to be pampered and fussed over. When you say goodbye, give him a cigar; not one of those he distributed to us at the table, but one of those you have in your pouch for your own use.” Without paying attention to Don Celso’s hint, Don Simón placed himself at his orders; they all left the path they were on and headed toward the Mayorazgo’s house, which was in the most hidden part of the town. A very dirty young man came out to open the door of the corral for them, and was frightened by the sight of so many gentlemen. And between wiping his nose with one hand and scratching his buttocks with the other, he reluctantly told them that his father was in the hills. He gave them his father’s address as best he could; and the expeditionaries had to retrace part of their steps, climb a steep slope, and go up to the plateau of a mountain, where they found the Mayorazgo presiding over the clearing of a large piece of land he had just acquired in those heights. He was still a young man with a disillusioned expression. He showed little curiosity when he saw himself attacked by the small squadron. He limited himself to coldly responding to the warm greeting that Don Celso addressed to him on behalf of the others, and especially Don Simón, whom he introduced impassively, saying: “The gentleman is our candidate, Don Simón de los Peñascales; an enlightened person, with thirty thousand duros of income and much talent. He has come expressly to thank you for the support you will give him in the elections, while he has the opportunity to repay your attention in another way. ” “At your service,” said the Majorazgo laconically, looking towards the man being introduced. “My dear sir,” replied Don Simón, uncovering his head and extending his right hand to the man on the lock. “Are you well? ” “I am fine, thank God,” said the Majorazgo without making a gesture. “Do you smoke?” asked the candidate, taking out his hip flask. “Sometimes, if the tobacco’s good,” the other replied. “Well, there goes one from Vuelta de Abajo. ” “It’s appreciated,” grumbled the recipient, biting the end. “And how are we doing here?” the candidate asked, hoping to elicit at least a gesture of interest from that barbarian. “Well… we’ll see,” the latter replied, spending half a box of matches lighting his cigar in the open air. “That’s not a question to ask, Don Simón,” Lépero observed, “it’s up to the gentleman to leave you satisfied. ” “Well, in that case,” replied Don Simón, understanding Don Celso, “and since we still have a long way to go today, since I’ve had the pleasure of meeting the gentleman, all that remains for me to do is offer myself at your service for whatever you desire, now and always.” “I say the same,” murmured the Mayorazgo, barely touching the hand Don Simón offered him with one hand and turning back to his diggers. When the cavalcade moved away from there, Don Simón couldn’t help but say to Don Celso, with disappointment: “If this is one of those who support me in the district, what are those who oppose me like? What can I promise myself about the doubters? ” “Don’t pay attention to words or appearances, Señor Don Simón,” responded Don Celso. “That man, as you can see, sticks his head in his pocket wherever he sets his mind. Rest assured that in this Town Hall even the dead will vote for you. A little harder to crack is the other young man we’re going to visit soon, in that village you can see on the right! He’s a man who never gives in, nor does he make up his mind until the last moment… And by the way: do you have any good recommendations for the regional Court? ” “Absolutely none.” “Don’t you know anyone who knows any of the magistrates? ” “I tell you, no. ” “Not even a bad doorman? ” “Wait… Oh no! ” “Go on, go on… ” “Shut up, man, what nonsense!” I remembered now that I was walking with a friend three months ago and a stranger came to greet him; and when he left us, I learned that he was a third cousin of the sister-in-law of a friend of the regent. “Well, we have everything we need. ” “Why, Don Celso? ” “You’ll see. Now, keep in mind that the person we’re going to greet is very surly and very tight-fisted; but he gets all the voters in the City Council to vote, and some more. ” “And where does this influence come from?” Don Simón asked curiously. “Because that guy sells wine and tobacco, which is why there isn’t a neighbor who doesn’t owe him something.” as there is nothing of the Majorazgo that he does not owe to this one by reason of leasing or loans…, or something worse. That is how great influence is exercised in towns, and elections are always made according to that criterion, as you will gradually see . But let’s get to the point. Since our man is avaricious, it is best that you take off your gloves so that the rings shine properly, and that you unbutton your lapels so that the chain gleams. Don Simón began to obey like a recruit, and then said: “And do you think it would be advisable for me to make a little speech? ” “Have you brought one that’s been well-researched? ” “Well, precisely, well-researched,” replied Don Simón, somewhat resentfully. “But I don’t think it would turn out too badly. ” “Well, if it’s good, don’t say much. ” “And the cigar? ” “One of the kind in the pouch too; he’s already got his hands on some bad ones, as a tobacconist. ” After these and other things, and after crossing an almost inaccessible thicket, wading a river, and jumping over three fences, the procession arrived at the first house in the town they were looking for; which house showed what it was, more by the branch it displayed above the door, than by the illegible sign that had been drawn with a mallet and some broom on a piece of canvas on the facade. “This is it,” said Don Celso. At the same time, a man, a sort of barrel of grease in shape, size, and cleanliness, appeared at the door of the tavern and almost completely blocked it . He buried his arms up to the elbows in the enormous pockets of his filthy trousers, and the moist, burnt strands of a cigar end poked out between his thick, bruised lips, dripping a trickle of black saliva down his chin. Meanwhile, he stared, with a stupid expression, at the newcomers with his green eyes . “That’s our man,” Don Celso said in a low voice to Don Simón. And while the latter pushed back his lapels and stretched out his ring-studded fingers as far as they could go, Don Celso dismounted and embraced the tavern keeper, who barely moved from where he was or took his hands out of his pockets. The other five of the party also dismounted ; And when Don Simón had done so, Don Celso took him by the hand and, showing himself to the fat man at the door, said: “The gentleman is the candidate for whom all the decent people of the district are voting. His name is Don Simón de los Peñascales; he is well-established, just as you like men; he has thirty thousand duros of income, and much talent to boot. ” “Yes, yes!” the innkeeper grunted in reply. “The gentleman,” said Don Celso, pointing to him and speaking to Don Simón, “is Don Zambombo, as those of us who honor ourselves with his close friendship call him, or Don Jeromo Cuarterola, as he is called in the town and beyond by all who know and love him, because he deserves it; and that is why they serve him blindly… In short, the gentleman is the electoral chief of this entire region. ” “Yes, yes!” the innkeeper grunted again. “My dear lord and master,” said Don Simón, bending down, uncovering his head , and extending his hand. Cuarterola responded to these attentions by barely touching the brim of his greasy bowler hat with the tip of his right forefinger, which he lazily took from his pocket and immediately plunged back in. “We,” added Don Celso, trampling on Don Zambombo’s humanity, “must speak slowly, and we’ll sneak into your house like Pedro. So bring the best room and the best wine, and follow me, all of you gentlemen. ” The aforementioned followed him, after tying their mounts outside as best they could; and preceded by Cuarterola, they settled themselves at a long, narrow, and dirty table that stood unsteadily inside the tavern, near the counter, on which there was nothing but a tin vase with four clay jugs. an oilcan, holding half an arroba; a piece of plaster for aiming; two glasses for brandy, and a small glass decanter containing red wine. Behind the counter rose a shabby shelf with half a dozen cigar bundles wrapped in brown paper; some smoking books, and a packet of matches. While the newcomers sat down on the hard, narrow benches next to the table, Don Zambombo entered the cellar, from which he emerged after a quarter of an hour with a large jug of white wine in one hand and a dirty glass tumbler in the other. “Here you have to make an effort, Don Simón,” said Lépero as the innkeeper returned. “It is necessary, even if it is with repugnance, to drink, and drink for a long time. “But, man,” responded Don Simón, frightened, “I’ll never taste wine! ” “It’s because you’ve never been a candidate. ” “Well, let’s make an effort,” he exclaimed with heroic resignation. Don Zambombo arrived and slowly placed the jug and glass on the table. He immediately put his hands back in his pockets and stood at one side of the table, resting his belly on the board. Meanwhile, Don Celso poured the first glass of wine and presented it to the candidate, who, closing his eyes, drank it without a gasp. The second went to the innkeeper, to whom he said, while the latter drained the liquid, half down his throat and half between his skin and shirt: “Señor Don Jeromo, the world is lost; scoundrels are getting on our nerves, and we honest men are walking on earth. Things must change, and they will!” To achieve this, we’re counting on you. “Yes, yes!” Don Zambombo growled for the third time. “Indeed, Señor de Cuarterola,” said Don Simón, tangling his long , thick watch chain so that both it and the rings on his fingers were visible at the same time, “society will go haywire if a remedy isn’t quickly found. Towns groan, oppressed by the most unbearable taxes; the family is threatened with a cataclysm because laws are made and interpreted by people without roots, without morality, and without… contingency. It is therefore necessary to bring to Parliament men of upright will, of standing; truly men… how can I put it more clearly?… men, in short… contingent, who don’t go there to pursue their own business, but rather the happiness of the people… Now , for a man of this caliber to take upon himself such a heavy burden , the most patriotic self-denial is not enough; the support of other men who think like him is also necessary . I, Señor Don Jeromo, have had no qualms about sacrificing the tranquility of my home, and even the profits of my private businesses, for the good of my country; but my self-denial will be futile if influential men, deeply rooted, with solid and sound convictions, of chance, in short, like yourself, deny me their support in these supreme moments. I have said. “Bravo! Bravo!” his staff shouted in chorus. “Now, now!” the innkeeper grunted for the fourth time, taking a hand from his pocket to scratch the back of his neck without removing his hat. “This is talking like a book, Don Jeromo!” exclaimed Lépero. “Let this man go to the Cortes; let many like him go, and Spain will have a clean shirt! ” “Now, now! … _But_…” Cuarterola murmured. “But… what, man of God!” “Will you finally start talking?” Lépero asked him, already exasperated. “Let’s see what good old Don Jeromo has to say,” Don Simón added affably. “Well, I say,” the innkeeper replied lazily and in a hoarse voice , “that everything you say is very well said.” “In that case… ” “Only,” Don Zambombo continued, “it’s the same thing that all the candidates who asked for my vote have told me. ” “However…” Don Simón replied, somewhat resentfully. “And now that they have been deputies,” Cuarterola concluded, “if I have seen you, I don’t remember. ” “Well, precisely because what you say is true, men of my character and position are launching ourselves into the fight this time, determined that the representative system be a truth. ” “Yes, yes!” Cuarterola growled again. “So, my friend Don Jeromo,” Don Celso chimed in, convinced that all preparation was useless with that barbarian, “we’re at the end of the road and we’ve come to an understanding. I know that, willingly or unwillingly, the entire neighborhood and some other voters are following you to the polls. ” “Now, now!” “Tell us how many printed candidacies you need, so that we can send them to you promptly; and let’s say no more about the matter. ” “Now, now!” “And before I forget: how’s the lawsuit going? ” “The lawsuit? Now, now! ” “Is it in the appeals court?” “Yes, yes!… It’s been a while. ” “So what’s the deal? ” “It’s obvious… I’m poor, I have no means… ” “And they had assured me that you had been offered free absolution in exchange for your votes for the government candidate!” “Yes, yes!… They’re offering, they’re offering; but… ” “But what? ” “I want to get paid in advance, and they don’t want to pay until the next day. ” “Just to leave you empty-handed, after having served them… What a piece of rascality going on now!” Lépero concluded, feigning a certain indignation, as if he wanted to move the innkeeper. “And what is this lawsuit?” Don Simón asked. “A real disgrace!” Lépero replied, winking at him. “An alleged smuggling case, for which they have brought this poor man to trial, and are ruining him miserably.” “That’s what I say!” sighed Don Zambombo, swaying his monstrous head from shoulder to shoulder . “Well, my friend,” said Don Celso, “you will never find a better opportunity than this to succeed in your endeavor. You have before you the best friend of the Regent of the Audiencia.” Hearing this, Don Zambombo opened his eyes as wide as the flesh of his eyelids would allow and fixed his gaze on Don Simón. The latter remained as if he were seeing a vision. And no wonder. “But, Don Celso,” he said, unable to contain himself, “how is that?” “Indeed,” replied Lépero, interrupting him, “it is not the same Regent you know, but the person who dominates you the most.” “Pay attention, Don Celso… ” “Nothing, nothing, my friend Don Jeromo,” continued Lépero, ignoring the candidate’s scruples… “And bear in mind that this is not intended as a favor, far from it.” You are a friend whom I have esteemed for many years, and this is enough for Señor Don Simón and me to willingly render you this very small service. So bring some paper and ink, and we will write a letter, which may be your fortune. Since the innkeeper had nothing to lose, he moved lazily to please Don Celso. Meanwhile, the latter said to Don Simón: “You must write two letters to that person who greeted your friend three months ago, and who is a relative of the sister-in-law of a friend of the regent. ” “But Don Celso!” “But Don Simón!” ” I don’t even know his name! ” ” Devil !” ” Or where he lives!” “Devil!” “But it doesn’t matter. On the contrary, it’s better this way. ” “What do you mean it doesn’t matter? ” “As I said. Write to Juan Pérez or Luis Fernández, and speak to him as if he really existed. ” “Don Celso!” “And am I supposed to sign such a fraud?” –And why not? About the letter not having to leave the office, wherever it ends up… Just ask in Madrid or Barcelona for a Juan Pérez, without further ado! The point is to cajole this fool. –But that’s unworthy of a serious person like me! –Ay, ay, ay!– Don Celso exclaimed sarcastically. –Is that what we have? Are we coming here with the scruples of a nun? Well, from now on, you can count on two hundred similar incidents happening to you in the district, and if you’re determined to disgust them all, you can go home safe in the knowledge that you won’t be sitting in the Congress. –The truth is, to be a deputy at that price… –Well, at what price do you think the others are deputies? His five comrades intervened in the argument, assisting Don Celso; and in the end they managed to subdue Don Simón, at the moment when Cuarterola placed on the table a horn inkwell with a bird quill pen, and half a sheet of paper with oil stains. He gave it all to Don Simón, who, reluctantly, had to write the following, dictated very loudly by Don Celso, not so much so that Cuarterola could hear it well, but to fulfill a requirement of the candidate, who in this way believed he was placing less responsibility on his conscience: “Señor Don Pedro Gutiérrez. Madrid. My most dear friend and relative: As I know that you are also Mr. Regent of the Court of this territory, and since it is rare that he takes a step in the fulfillment of his high duties without hearing your opinion, I hope that you will recommend with all your might the prompt and favorable resolution of the lawsuit pending before it against Don Jeromo Cuarterola, of this neighborhood, and a person of my utmost esteem, regarding alleged smuggling. I thank you in advance, and I hope that this time, like many others, the recommendation of your most affectionate friend and relative, SIMÓN DE LOS PEÑASCALES, will be worth as much as I wish .” “This is infamous!” said Don Simón under his breath, as he closed the letter. “But very convenient,” replied Don Celso, sprinkling powder on the envelope. He immediately placed it in the innkeeper’s hand, who stared at it, as if distracted, and turned it over in his mind. “I repeat,” Don Celso told him, somewhat irritated by that attitude, “that this letter is not a favor we want to sell you… We wrote it because… because we felt like it; and that’s how we are. ” “Yes, yes!… _But_…. “But what?” “It won’t go without a stamp…, it seems to me. ” “That’s true,” said Don Celso, laughing. “I forgot that this is also a tobacconist’s where they sell postage stamps. Bring one for us. ” Cuarterola obeyed. He returned with the stamp; he affixed it to Lépero’s letter, and upon returning it to the innkeeper, he said: “Now let’s see how much you are owed for everything.” The botarga remained biting the letter’s corner and muttering: “Two for the paper, and four and a half for the stamp… seven…; seven…, and for the ink… For the ink, nothing.” And then, the wine: two azumbres for seven…
But getting himself entangled in these messes many times, he went to the counter; he covered it with chalk as big as the palm of his hand; he erased them twice with saliva and the sleeve of his jacket; he wrote them again, and finally returned to the table, saying bluntly: “Three pesetas, with the stake.” The stake, reader, was the horses being tied up outside, although without having gnawed a single grain, nor having caused a cent of expense or damage. Don Simón threw a duro on the table. “Keep the change,” said Don Celso, who controlled even the candidate’s wishes. The miser kept the coin; but didn’t say a word. “So, in summary, Don Jeromo,” concluded Lépero, standing up, as the others in the party did the same, “we agreed that, all things being equal, you will prefer our candidacy to the other two, and that you and your whole party will probably vote for her. ” “Yes, yes!” responded the innkeeper with his usual crutch. “If you would be so kind as to be a little more frank!” dared Don Simón to say to him. “Pssée!” grumbled Don Zambombo. “As neither are you!” ” What do you mean, no? ” “It’s the truth. And if not, let’s see. I promise to vote for you with all my friends… ” “Thank you very much, Señor Don Jeromo.” “Provided you promise to do something else. ” “Nothing could be fairer, Señor de Cuarterola. Do you see how we end up coming to an understanding? ” “Now we shall see.” What I want is for a road to be built this year from this very gate to the royal road, which doesn’t run far from here. Nothing could be more fair, Señor Don Jeromo; and I certainly promise, if I become a deputy, to do everything I can to achieve it… and I will achieve it, for sure. Do you see? Well, that’s what all the deputies who have asked for my vote for ten years now have been telling me. Now! Empty promises. Like yours. Do me a favor, sir, I’m a person of formality! The day I become a deputy, you’ll have a hundred thousand things to occupy you with, more formal than this poor road. When I give my word… Look, Señor Don Simón: the road will cost, according to the estimate that has been made, about three thousand duros. Deposit that amount wherever you see fit and on the condition that it is to be used for that project, and I give you the vote of the entire town council… and something more. ” “That’s distrusting me; and above all, I can’t pay so dearly for my election. ” “Haven’t you told me you’re sure the road will be built if I vote for you? ” “If I become a deputy. ” “Which is the same thing, as far as I’m concerned. Well then. The day the government, or the province… or the devil, builds the road, you’ll collect your deposit… and that’s peace. ” “We’ll think about it, Señor Don Jeromo, we’ll think about it,” said Don Celso, cutting short the conversation, which was getting the inexperienced Don Simón somewhat irritated, and so as not to completely discourage the innkeeper. “Well, I’m always at your service here,” he concluded, “with the condition I’ve mentioned. If it’s convenient, fine; and if not, we’ll be friends as always. ” “That’s a given, and until the first,” replied Don Celso, mounting his horse. “May you rest with God, good man,” added the candidate, also mounting, buttoning his lapels and putting on his gloves, a sign that the glitter of his jewels promised nothing more to move the spirit of that piece of brute, covered in slyness… and tallow… The other five auxiliaries also rode; and going down alleys, and slipping on stones, and wading through gullies, they came out onto a path called the royal road, along which they continued their march in the dark; for it must be noted that night had fallen an hour before, and moreover, a fine rain was falling that chilled to the bone. Chapter 11. The expeditionaries were to spend the night in a town still three hours away, and to a certain semi-feudal mansion, belonging to a solitary nobleman who lived there. This was a person of considerable prestige in that country, although of limited means, and Don Simón was highly recommended to him by some friends in the city. He was also known to all those who accompanied him on the expedition through similar means. And it must be said that this gentleman was an expert in electoral intricacies. But he was very diplomatic before committing himself to anyone. On the other hand, once committed, no further discussion could be made on the matter. Don Simón knew this very well; and to make matters worse, he was unaware, at that time, of the gentleman’s attitude toward him; for the single letter in which he had replied to the many written to him from the city asking for his support was as sweet as it was bitter. And as he walked on, meditating on this and other points, and rarely speaking, the water continued to fall thick and very cold, and the candidate saw no spark… or, I say wrong, he saw the sparks raised by the horseshoes of the horse in front of him as they slipped on the muzzles. And this frequently happened on the edge of a precipice, into whose bottom a torrent roared, ever more impetuous with the flow of the rain. Twenty years earlier, Simón Cerojo wouldn’t have even noticed these imposing details, and would have walked fearlessly at the same hour and along the same path, singing a few seguidillas, despite the rain and the cold. But the pampered life and attachment to the comforts of the wealthy Peñascales had weakened the spirit and wrinkled the heart of the handsome suitor of the unsociable Juana. Don Simón, then, was, in the face of any serious danger, as timid as a hare. That’s why he shuddered with fear when he considered the ease with which he and his esteemed candidacy could in a moment go and tell the other world about their campaign. And the assurances his companions gave him , based on the instinct and steadiness of their mounts, were not enough to reassure him… In truth, such a guarantee, the only one they had, from the roof down, in certain dangerous passes, was not much! He was once again terrified by the gloomy solitude of a forest, impenetrable to the faint light of the firmament, the only light he had seen since nightfall. All sorts of fears assailed him there, mainly thieves; but he shook this one off with some ease, considering that even for stealing that night was cruel, even in the It is impossible to believe that such solitudes would be inhabited by those who live off the possessions of those who would never pass through there, unless they were tempted by the devil, or by the desire to be a member of the Cortes, which is the same thing. His companions cured him of his fear of wild beasts, assuring him that wolves and other such creatures pay no attention to humans unless they have beasts to prey on; and the travelers had, for now, seven horses to offer to the voracity of their dreamed-of enemy. With these and other consolations, Don Simón even dared to cough without covering his mouth, when the cold of the night forced him to do so. Suddenly he found himself in a puddle with water up to his girths. “Loosen the reins,” they shouted from behind him, “and let the horse follow the road!” “That is to say,” thought Don Simón, terrified, “that this animal follows, gropingly and by instinct, a certain causeway that is covered by water. So that if it strays from it, because its instinct fails it, or if it stumbles and falls… Eternal God!… And all this, for what? To seek a few votes that, for sure, they won’t give me, for an election that, in any case, and if I don’t grab onto other hooks, I must lose, and in order to hold an office that I have no need of! ” And the good gentleman, sincere and sensible at that moment, cursed the hour when he had resolved to fight on such ground, and remembered the love of his family and the peace of his home. But he would get out of the quagmire through the effort of his mount and a miracle of Providence, and until he found himself in a more difficult situation, he would never again become sane or reasonable…. That’s how God made us, and there’s no need to go around in circles. From time to time, a light could be seen far away. “Is it there?” the candidate would ask anxiously, unable to hold on to his horse from cold, fear, and exhaustion. “Just a little further on,” they would always reply. And to make his impatience more bearable, he would suddenly find himself in a gorge, whose slopes of sheer rocks seemed to gather around the head of the stunned expeditionary, blocking his way out in every direction. He could hear the bellowing of the river as it passed on his left; He touched the weeds sprouting between the cracks on his right, and felt on his face the mud splashed by the horses in front of him, and the subtle and nauseating air, like that of a cavern, that hissed as it passed through that twisted and capricious tube. But he saw nothing, except the frightful representation of his corpse, bruised by the river rocks and tumbling with the current. He also emerged from that difficult passage, and another light offered itself to the sight of the well-traveled candidate… But it wasn’t there either! Finally, losing hope with each light, like Columbus before seeing the land he was seeking; crossing new precipices and always raining and growing colder, the expedition reached a safe harbor. The travelers were standing in front of the gentleman’s house… But Don Simón knew this because he was told; for such was the darkness that, unable to see anything, he couldn’t even see his horse’s ears. He heard someone banging on a door, or something like it, with something as hard as a muzzle, and each bang was answered, inside, by a tremendous barking. This banging continued for about a quarter of an hour, and the barking lasted for as long. After this time, he heard a grating sound, like that of a large key in an immense lock; then the sound of an iron bar bouncing on one end against a less hard body; then the creaking of rusty hinges… and, finally, he saw the light of a very smoky lantern, by whose faint glow he could see that a portal had been opened opposite . The giant who was lighting the door asked who those outside were; they answered dutifully, and he led them into a corral, where they were received by a large dog, which could be guessed by its ferocious barking, which did not cease for a moment, and by the creaking of the chain on which it was attached. tied up, for the light from the lantern didn’t reach three yards beyond the man holding it. At this point, a sort of ghost appeared in the wide porch, another lantern in his hand, wrapped in a long robe and with a fur cap on his head. Seeing the ghost, Don Simón’s companions rushed up to him and, with the most affectionate interest, said as one: “Señor Don Recaredo!” He looked at them slowly, holding the lantern close to each of their faces; and when he had recognized them, “So much good news around here!” he exclaimed. “I was expecting a visit. ” “Have they announced it to you, perhaps? ” “What greater announcement than the proximity of the elections? ” “Heh, heh, heh! What a Don Recaredo this is!” “Always the same! ” “How famous!” “And speaking of elections,” said Don Celso, “I have the pleasure of introducing to you our… Call! Where is Don Simón? ” “Here he is!” responded a weak, hoarse voice from the corral. The six caciques ran there and found the candidate making every effort to dismount, helped by the giant. The poor man was numb and stiff. They all pulled him down from his horse and, half suspended in the air, carried him to the doorway. “The gentleman,” said Don Celso, continuing the interrupted introduction to Don Recaredo, “is our candidate; a very distinguished person with deep roots, and his name is Don Simón de los Peñascales. ” “So the gentleman is Don Simón de los…! Well, well! My good friends in the city have not recommended him enough! How could I have suspected that he came among so many fine creatures! But are you feeling ill, Señor Don Simón?” “Nothing of the sort, my lord Don Recaredo,” the interrogated man responded with difficulty; “but with such a long journey on horseback, and the lack of habit… and then the cold… are you here?… But, above all, I beg you to excuse my lack of courtesy in returning your attentions, in view of the difficulty that… ” “Well, it would be needless for us to be on friendly terms now! What you need is a good fire and a regular meal, and we will provide you with everything at once, God willing. So, gentlemen, let’s go upstairs; the lad will take care of the horses.” Don Recaredo led the expeditionaries up an old, wide, and dirty staircase with few flights of stairs, and they arrived at a large passageway, whose floors, eroded in places, swayed when walking on them. At one end was the kitchen, which they all entered behind the gentleman. A huge fire was burning in it, enclosed by the high stone bench at the back and three long benches, plus a wooden armchair that occupied pride of place. The kitchen was immense, made to seem even larger than it really was by the glossy black of its walls, which made it impossible to see lines or contours, nor, consequently, where the ceiling and floor ended and the darkness of the void began. And how large that room had to be to contain what it contained! In addition to the spit and half a forest of firewood and other objects typical of the place, there was a complete horse saddle; two shotguns, a carbine, a hunting knife, and a hunting bag; a carpenter’s bench with all the tools; two half- finished wagon wheels; wood for as many; three sacks full of grain; a cat with six newborn pups; several bearskins; a whetstone, a yard in diameter, mounted on its corresponding pestle… and who knows how many other things! In certain villages, people live in the kitchen during the winter, and winter lasted eight months in that village. It is not surprising, then, that Don Recaredo’s kitchen was so large and so well-stocked. Don Simón, stripped of all the rain gear he had on him , seated him in the preferred chair, half a yard from the fire. His friends and the gentleman, after giving their servants a few orders, took their seats on the benches. And the six caciques really needed it; since, less well-equipped with raincoats than Don Simón, they were soaked to the skin. water up to his skin. Don Recaredo was a man in his sixties; tall, muscular, with a tanned face half covered by a very thick, thick beard, but almost white, or rather yellowish; his hair, which remained as thick as in his youth, was much whiter than his beard, as were his eyelashes and eyebrows. When Don Simón saw him in the light of the bonfire, with that face, with that leather cap, and wrapped from neck to toe in a cape, he thought he was looking at one of the magicians he had once seen emerge through the trapdoor in the theater, amidst flames of resin. But, far from being a sinister figure, Don Recaredo was quite the opposite: affable, hospitable, and benevolent like few others. The only remnant of a very ancient family in the country, and not very fond of the pleasures of marriage, he had spent the best years of his life between the pleasures of hunting and the attentions of his estate, which provided him with what he needed to live like a gentleman in those lonely wildernesses. The peasants respected him for his character… and for his strength, and also for certain guests he knew how to offer them at the opportune moment. Completely sincere and frank, he had no known vice or shyness that he tried to hide from his neighbors; although there was no lack of malicious gossip who asserted that this gentleman made excessive visits to a certain vat of vintage wine he kept in the cellar; but the truth is that no one could prove it… not the wine, but the fact. His true, well -known hobbies were carpentry and hunting. As a carpenter, he was a master at craftsmanship; as a hunter, he had no rival in the country. He loved the plane and the chisel, and would spend entire days at the bench. But he loved his shotgun and his dagger much more. Going into the woods with his bloodhounds; tracking the bear; seeing it, aiming at it, wounding it—oh, pleasure!… and, above all, finishing it off with knives, fighting the beast hand to hand, arm to arm, alone, with no witnesses but his dogs, with no help but his fearless heart, his bronze fist, and his steel dagger. Oh, sublime intoxication! These adventures, of which he recounted many in his life, were his pride and glory. That’s why I don’t think the wine story could be true… nor what was rumored about certain young men in the village, who, besides resembling him in appearance like one egg to another, received from him frequent courtesies and courtesies, and called him “godfather” without ever having been born. Don Recaredo took good care of these weaknesses of nature! As a man of ancient lineage, he was well-connected throughout the province, although he spent years and years without leaving his village; and as a dedicated elector, he was one of the most pampered in the district. Hence the intimacy that seemed to exist between him and Don Simón’s companions. They were all veterans of the same army. How the gentleman thought before committing himself to an election was never known; and it was difficult to know when he himself was unaware. And he was unaware because he was not a man of political leanings. Except for certain vestiges of lineage, any color, and even form of government, were indifferent to him; because, after all, history presented only one king worthy of having been one: Don Fabila; and until time or circumstances brought another identical king to reign, one capable not only of fighting the bear but of defeating it, he would not consider joining any faction. For these and other reasons, either he didn’t vote for anyone when it came to elections , or he went with the first person who could skillfully solicit his support . In the case at hand, had he made a serious commitment to anyone before Don Simón visited him? This was the question. The candidate and his friends tried in vain to clarify it, the former now comforted and the latter dried by the warmth of the fire. The gentleman wouldn’t budge. This was a bad sign for them. While one persisted on the subject, albeit with certain detours and reservations, and the other dodged the issue, as they say, a A young woman was preparing a pot of garlic soup over the fire, half an arroba of pork loin, and other such trifles, which were always plentiful in Don Recaredo’s house. When dinner was ready, he led the guests into a room as large as the kitchen, but not as furnished. The table was set there. It was high, scissor-shaped, and I suppose carved, because the two benches with their backs attached to it were carved, even with coats of arms and mottoes. It was covered by a very white, fine tablecloth, but too worn from use; and you could tell by their size, weight, and shape that the silverware and two silver ladles were also of noble ancestry , which shone on the tablecloth in the light of a four-burner candle hanging from a small board nailed at one end to a beam in the ceiling. With the aid of this light, whose reach did not extend beyond the table, one seemed to make out, far away in the shadows in the background, two large oil paintings, a wardrobe, and a grandfather clock. During dinner, they spoke at length about Don Recaredo’s hobbies, his ancestors, the adventures of the trip, the weather… everything except the election. After dinner, each guest had a bed, not very soft, but very clean, and the best one for Don Simón. In all fairness, what more could he ask of the gentleman, without being rude? He went to bed, not knowing what he wanted; he finally fell asleep… and the new day dawned, as cold, as rainy, and as unpleasant as the previous one. And the journey had to continue! And the further they traveled, the greater the altitude they would gain, and consequently, the greater the rigors of the elements! With these reflections, Don Simón’s few hairs stood on end . When he finished dressing, he went out in search of his people; but he got lost in a labyrinth of dismantled halls and passageways, in disarray and without order . By chance, he stumbled upon the kitchen after a good while, and there he found his friends warming themselves by the fire and eating soup in milk for lunch, accompanied by Don Recaredo, whose place of honor he had to accept. Nothing was said on that occasion either of what most interested the candidate, no matter how much he and his companions pestered the gentleman. Time was pressing, and it was necessary to leave the hospitable inn without delay. The order was given for the horses to be saddled; and it came to pass that the expeditionaries descended to the gate with their spurs shod; and they all mounted… and still no words were exchanged between Don Simón and Don Recaredo other than flattery, compliments, and kindnesses! Finally, as the people were setting out for the yard, and the gentleman, holding one of Don Simón’s hands in his own, said to the first: “Believe me, my friend and lord, that my satisfaction would have been complete if, to the honor I receive by hosting you in my house, I could add the pleasure of serving you in whatever way you desire. ” “Are the obstacles that prevent you from doing so so insurmountable, my lord Don Recaredo?” Don Simón asked him in a contrite tone, almost with tears in his eyes. “Not as much as usual,” the gentleman responded, “for the truth is that I have bound myself to no choice with less force than to this one. ” “Then,” replied Don Simón, gripping Don Recaredo’s hands more and more tightly , “may I be permissible to hope that you will succeed in breaking, or untying, these commitments of such flimsy consistency?” “For me, Señor Don Simón,” said the gentleman with a certain solemnity, “ when it comes to my word, iron bonds are the same as those of worsted. ” “Then I won’t insist,” replied Don Simón, loosening his hand until he had released Don Recaredo’s. “You must understand,” said the latter with a slight smile and taking two steps back, “that to do everything possible for you, letters from your friends would suffice. If this was a dig, it was never known, because Don Simón, who was most interested in finding out, didn’t even try; and as for his companions, well dined, well slept, and well lunched at home and at the gentleman’s expense, what the devil did a phrase more or less matter to them, however deliberate? Upon leaving the corralada, Don Simón had the curiosity to fix his gaze on the facade of the mansion. It was made of yellowish stone, and was covered with coats of arms, moss… and cracks; the eaves were falling, and the balconies were collapsing. Not a single real had been spent on repairs there for many years. Could Don Recaredo be determined to bring down both the manor and the manor house together? Everything was credible in his character. Chapter 12. The march that day was more arduous than the previous one; for to the inconveniences of the previous day had to be added the layer of snow more than half a vara thick, which they encountered a few hours’ walk away, and which continued to fall. Travelers frequently had to dismount to descend steep slopes. Then, with their horses unleashed and the riders seeking the least dangerous paths , they would tumble, each to his own, like inert logs; which didn’t amuse Don Simón much, although it made his companions laugh more than once. These adventures and others of a similar nature lasted three days, until, upon returning to the plain, the expeditionaries found a moderate temperature, better roads, and a radiant sun. At their various halts and stops, always arranged by that of the six caciques most familiar with the electoral terrain they were about to tread, Don Simón didn’t always find a lodging as pleasant as the gentleman’s, nor many men who resembled him in their nobility of character. How abundant were the traffickers in votes and speculators in candidacies! During the long journey from one point to another, the expeditionaries would converse warmly about the vicissitudes of the election, or our candidate’s companions would make light of it, or they would paint a very flattering picture of the campaign’s outcome, in an attempt to make the trip more entertaining. But not even then! Don Simón, new to the profession, found in every step cases and things that bored him, perhaps more than the material difficulties of the road. He had a special order from his staff to courteously greet every passerby they met, and the saintly man did so, because of the adage that “where you least expect it, you get a vote.” Once, as he passed by a miserable and solitary shack, he was told: “You must pay a visit to the person who lives there. ” “But I don’t know her, men of God, even if I did, it wouldn’t be worth the trouble to stop us!” Don Simón observed with disgust. “Stop being so coy, Don Simón, and consider that this shack, among parents, children, and relatives, is worth more than five votes. And there you had a capitalist, loaded with gold and diamonds, dismounting among pigs, calves, and mastiffs, revealing his humility, shaking hands and asking about the lady and the rest of the family of a rustic clod-ripper, who smelled of dung and liquor, and barely deigning to respond, as he knew how, to so many courtesies, despite the candidate having been presented to him with the usual titles of ‘independent person, with thirty thousand duros of income and a lot of talent!'” Once again, they met a pair of cattle and their driver on the road. “It is necessary,” they were told then, “that you praise those animals very carefully and very vigorously. ” “What for?” Don Simón asked, astonished. ” So that the one who is traveling with them can hear him. ” “And what do I have to do with him?” –Trifle!… He’s an elector! –Even if he’s Prester John of the Indies!… I don’t do such nonsense! –He who wants something, Señor Don Simón, has to suffer something. –Yes, yes; but there are things!… –Look, each one of us is old in the trade, and when we advise him on something, it’s on his own! And the puffed-up character, who felt dominated by those six little devils as soon as he had anything to do with his electoral enterprise, didn’t have He had no choice but to stop his horse when the animals approached, stare at them, and begin to shout like a madman: “Oh!… Magnificent! What gallantry! What hindquarters! How broad! A superb breed! Are they yours, good man?” he would ask the driver as a finishing touch. “At your service,” the interrogated man would reply, with a look of suspicion. Immediately afterward, the caciques would attack him; and after embracing and petting him a great deal, “We have the pleasure,” they would say, “of presenting to you our candidate, Señor Don Simón de los Peñascales, ‘an independent person, with an income of thirty thousand duros and a great deal of talent. ‘” “My dear sir,” Don Simón would add, taking off his gloves, opening the lapels, and giving the peasant a cigar, to show off three things at once : his coat of arms, his chain, and his diamonds. The good man would take the cigar, paying little attention to anything else; And while he was sucking on it, he said very calmly: “When I heard such an important gentleman as this one praising me so much about the beasts, I said to myself: ‘Why is that?’ A thousand devils if I remembered the elections! “Well, they’ve already reminded you of them…” “As if they were silent; we, the poor, go where they lead us, and thank goodness for that and all!… So, there you have it! The osequio and the praise are appreciated , and until next time. ” “But listen a moment!” “It can’t be, the beasts are getting away from me, and I’m afraid they’ll do something that will cost me a fortune. ” “Do you see?” said Don Simón, very annoyed, turning to his advisors. But they only laughed at him in his face; and, moved by the best of intentions, and based on their experience, they neither repented nor changed their minds. Chapter 13. If the sole purpose of these pages were to describe the trials and tribulations of a candidate on the eve of his election, I would follow step by step the story of my journey through the district. But since these poorly conceived chapters cover several subjects, I will limit myself to stating, in summary and for the benefit of the inexperienced reader, that wherever our expeditionaries went, they frequently found electoral terrain unsuitable for their cultivation, and the most propitious terrain was no more than the dubious aspect of the Mayorazgo. Traces of the government’s moral influence appeared everywhere. Here , a court of first instance had been proposed; there, a highway; in the other town, the approval of its municipal accounts—which already had something to do with it!; on the other side, the felling of a mountain; and in the one across the way, the distribution, among the residents, of certain communal lands . In vain, Don Simón greeted even the dogs, and displayed rods of chain and diamond cobblestones, and Don Celso shouted himself hoarse to demonstrate to the reluctant people, recalling many other elections, that the official power makes these and many other offers, and never fulfills them even if it achieves its objective. The leaders of the various electoral groups preferred to be deceived into serving the Government, rather than being served half-heartedly by a charlatan with the discredited title of independent candidate. As for the masses of voters, who were the true arbiters of the contest, no one tired of asking their opinion: they would go like docile flocks to deposit in the ballot boxes a candidacy that would be handed to them sealed; and they knew no more, nor will they know more for centuries to come, even if this comedy lasts for centuries, which I doubt. Whenever the expedition halted, and often while walking, he would recount the certain votes, add those recently collected, and end up forming a general report, cutting off a third of the probable votes and adding them to the enemy’s, to put Don Simón in the worst imaginable situation. The final count made left the success of the battle very doubtful; and to have doubts in such cases is equivalent to certain defeat. Under this sad impression, and, furthermore, bruised, dirty, torn, and with his face as red as a pepper, Don Simón returned home for eight days. after leaving. To add insult to injury, forty-eight hours later, he learned from Don Celso that he and his five companions had arranged to tour the district, which they would not leave until the last voter had voted. With a tenacity incomprehensible to anyone unaware of the ferocity with which such battles are fought, he learned, I repeat, that the Majorazgo had gone over to the enemy, arms and baggage, in exchange for some expansion that the administration was allowing them to make to the hill we know; another phalanx of “confident” votes was going after a certain cacique, seduced at the last minute by the favorable resolution of a scandalous case; Don Recaredo decidedly did not vote for him, and three City Councils, until then “safe,” had been relegated to the “very dubious” category , thanks to certain guarantees of favors offered by the ministerial candidate. And worst of all, there were only three days left until the election began; And in such a short time, the conflict could not be averted, even if Don Simón went all out . Don Celso concluded his letter by saying that they had to decide either to defeat or to compromise with the government. In his opinion, the latter was the most convenient option; for, all things considered, the government was no better than other very bad ones, but it was no worse either; and, in the end, to do something for the country, it was better to be in the warmth of the ministerial establishment than in the hell of the opposition or in the limbo of the independents. Don Simón was loath to lose this last status that so flattered him; but he could not resign himself to not being a deputy, since his hands were in the dough. In such a difficult situation, he consulted his friends, who unanimously agreed with Don Celso. As a result of this agreement, negotiations were mediated in certain official centers, and Don Simón was admitted to them even with a canopy. He played the telegraph; The government learned that it had just acquired “one of the most important personages in the country.” The official court newspapers immediately reported so; all of Spain knew of it. The poor adventurer’s candidacy disappeared, and in return, he was given a first-class credential, which was all he had ever desired. Don Simón was told : “You can go and rest in peace. You are now a deputy.” And so it was. Once the elections were held, and while they were being held, there was much talk of beatings, of falsified ballot boxes, of imprisoned voters, of dead people voting, and even of some living people who died for voting; of houses burning, and of other such usual and legitimate resources employed to benefit Don Simón’s candidacy; but the truth is that he was proclaimed deputy-elect for the district, and he was given a certificate declaring it as such, as clean as gold. He was thus serenaded by all the local street bands; he received the customary congratulations, and, oh, the power of satisfied vanity! He came to believe himself worthy of so many gifts, and even the legitimate representative of the free will of his constituents. And he believed it so much that, days after being elected, he became indignant, in the best of good faith, when speaking of the coercion exerted against him by the poor opposition candidate during the elections. What more could anyone ask of Don Simón? He was in perfect condition as an independent deputy. Meanwhile, Doña Juana was like a kid with new shoes. As soon as her husband received the certificate of his election, he went out into the street and ordered three of the best dresses from the dressmaker, and one with a train. He would go to Congress, to the tribunes of preference, very often; to the palace occasionally; he would give lavish parties for the statesmen; ministers and ambassadors would give presents to his daughter…; Perhaps she would obtain a title of Castile!… All this, and much more that before passed slowly and like an illusion through her imagination, she saw in a moment, palpable and as if already realized, before her eyes. What a shock the provincial ladies who had made fun of her country girl’s habits were going to suffer ! And when the Correspondence announced her comings and goings? And when La Época recounted her sympathetic receptions? Under such intoxicating impressions, dressed in her finest, and her daughter in the most elegant of her well-stocked wardrobe, she spent a week making visits she had always disdained, and paying for others she owed long ago, only to find opportunities to announce her departure for Madrid, where the delicate position with which the country had honored her husband was taking her. Meanwhile, he was putting his business affairs in order, leaving them under the direction and discretion of a trusted employee. Chapter 14. The remainder of this story, while most important as far as the protagonist is concerned, will be the most soporific for the reader, who, no doubt, knows the ground we are about to tread inside out and will have to anticipate by memory much of what I relate. And I will be fortunate if he doesn’t interrupt me more than once to say: “And what are you telling me? I’ve known it all by heart for a long time! That fellow and everyone he meets live on my street! ” What an unfortunate inconvenience befalls anyone who, like me, lacks the wit to invent characters and scenes _from the other world_, and seeks the subject of his prosaic stories in the common and tangible facts of the real and practical life of men and peoples! But should this reason, which weighs heavily on me, prevent me from continuing to narrate the events until the end of the story I have begun? Not at all; after all, it is not mandated by any law that whenever something is told, it must be marvelous. Continuing, then, without further preamble, the suspended story, we now find Periquito now a monk; That is to say, Don Simón in Madrid with his _august_ status as a deputy to the Cortes, and his family accommodated with him on one of the principal streets, and not in the worst of their houses. But the brand-new politician had not yet taken his seat in Congress, and he was already convinced of what he considered a sad truth: that to shine in Madrid as he did in his province, the wealth of a wealthy businessman and the other preeminences that had fallen upon him one after another were not enough. _La Correspondencia_ had announced his arrival in Madrid, not only as a deputy, but as one of the most important and worthy people in the country; and he had hardly shaken off the dust of his journey when the Minister of the Interior, in a courteous _B.L.M_., had summoned him to his office. There, he had been showered with incense, assuring him, among other things, that with the support of men as respectable and enlightened as the Lord of the Peñascales, all political and economic conflicts would be resolved, and Spain was in for a treaty. And despite these and other courtesies that, incidentally, he believed he deserved, Don Simón took to the streets, deliberately on foot, and no one greeted him or looked at him with curiosity. He went to Congress in the days preceding its solemn opening, and in its carpeted halls and corridors, and in each of the endless groups of deputies, journalists, high-ranking officials, and other notables who formed here and there, they talked about everything except his arrival, his wealth, or his importance. And yet, there weren’t many coats more brilliant than his, nor many cleaner shirts , nor many more sturdy boots. On the contrary, there was an abundance of shabby cloths, knee-length trousers, three-day-old shirts, and half-heeled shoes. What, then, was the reason for the indifference with which he was regarded both there and abroad? Perhaps something more than money was needed in Madrid to shine; perhaps a little daring, or many family connections, or some resounding triumph; all elements born of time and circumstance, which he would undoubtedly acquire. But the truth was, and this saddened him deeply, that his _fall_ in Madrid had not had the slightest effect on the public. He had, therefore, to gain at court, degree by degree, the stature that he had achieved in the city in one leap. The enterprise, at True, he was superior to Don Simón’s strength; but he didn’t believe so, and this consoled him a little. Meanwhile, he reveled in the distinctions that came his way because of his position. While the doors of Congress were surrounded by a crowd of simpletons, who were forbidden even to approach the sidewalk, he walked through them upright amid the bows of the doormen, who, upon respectfully opening the red velvet screen for him, would say: “Come in, Your Grace.” Once inside, he could touch any electric button he pleased, to ask an usher for whatever he deemed appropriate; walk around in any room he saw fit; sit on the most comfortable couch; write in the designated rooms; ask the secretary for the most difficult-to- find file, and the rarest book in the archive; in short, even drink, for free, a glass of water with sugar in the house’s cantina. The minister continued to frequently summon him to his office with other deputies from the majority, and there, hand in hand and as if in a family, they would count their strengths and discuss the battles that, for now, the government needed to fight, without prejudice to other, tougher ones it would have to fight later. Don Simón wasn’t worried about this, for he paid no attention to such a trivial matter. He focused solely on the distinctions with which he was honored in that high country. The minister stroked his back; called him “my excellent Don Simón,” and even gave him a cigar or asked for one; and the Ministry’s doormen, those proverbial gatekeepers, brusque and harsh to the point of ferocity with every mere mortal, went out of their way with him, bowing and courteous. Very puffed up with these and other similar distinctions, in the absence of the more popular and solemn ones he awaited for later, consider the effect he would have on the news he once received in the corridors of Congress that the opposition parties were going to wage relentless war on the ministerial nominations, and that his was listed first and foremost as the most scandalous. Don Simón had not yet lost faith in the, by then, discredited aphorism: “from discussion comes light.” The minutes did not contain a bad protest, nor did he believe what was being reported about his election regarding abuses committed by his assistants; but such things could be said in Congress; in such a way could the events be presented that, in the end, spirits would waver and everyone would side with the defeated, which was equivalent to throwing him out of there and forcing him to return to his own place, like a private Juan, without having become inviolable. This consideration terrified him; and without wasting a moment, he went to the minister with the news and his fears. “Don’t pay attention to it, saintly man!” laughed His Excellency. “You ‘re making sure of that! ” “So what? ” “If they really attack me, they’ll be able to say things, even if they’re invented, that will mislead public opinion. ” “And what’s the use of the majority?” “I don’t understand… ” “Look carefully. The committee will be ours. ” “Good. ” “And it will present the minutes among the cleanest. ” “Good; but then they’ll attack it… ” “Common; and they’ll talk against it for an hour, two hours… three months, if you like! ” “Bangs! ” “But the vote will come eventually, and since there are so many of us against so few… ” “Ah, right! But as I believed that when something was discussed, that discussion would serve some purpose… ” “The Government was on a roll then, my friend! How obvious it is that you’re new in the _house_! ” “All that is true; but I will have to defend myself. “No, sir! That would be giving importance to a matter that does not have any. The commission is more than enough to leave you in a good place… For you to make your debut, we will find a reason truly worthy of your character and your talent. ” “Oh! A thousand thanks, Minister,” said Don Simón, drooling , “but I do not deserve that concept… ” “You certainly do!” replied SELF. with a little smile and a hint of humor that completely intoxicated Don Simón; a hint of humor and a smile that, in that personage and on that occasion, came to signify a thought that could be translated into these words: “What a beautiful Swiss man!” Meanwhile, Doña Juana and her daughter Julieta, wearing a new dress every day for walks and shows, were, in shows and walks, nothing more than two more ladies, very well dressed, which did little to flatter the vanity of the former tavern keeper, who aspired to greater triumphs. Chapter 15. The days passed, and Don Simón’s minutes were approved, as the minister had promised; Congress was constituted, and the first political debates began , with the parliamentary guerrillas appearing on the scene , as if in advance of the expert captains who would later go out to fight the decisive battles. By then, our representative had managed to overcome the stupor he’d experienced during the first few days, a result of the lofty notion he’d formed of the merits of those surrounding him in the hall. This notion frightened him to the point where he didn’t dare look anyone in the face, lest they allude to him and force him to speak suddenly, which would have struck him like a lightning bolt. Calm, then, and in complete possession of himself, he became all eyes and ears. He could see and hear up close those extraordinary men who knew how to deliver speeches like the ones he had read so many times in the reports of the sessions; speeches full of substance and eloquence; speeches that revealed to him orators of majestic bearing and irresistible authority, down to their slightest gestures. The entire Congress would be hanging on their lips, sometimes convinced, sometimes indignant, but always under the powerful influence of that torrent of eloquence. His effort was futile! The more he looked and the more he wanted to hear, the less he found what he was looking for. There was a real fever of talkers there; but who among those speaking was worth the trouble of being listened to patiently for ten minutes ? Hence, it was no small surprise to observe that, while a speaker of poor appearance and worse style was screaming , cursing, gesturing on the front bench, and gulping down glasses of orange juice, between consulting and reviewing his notes, the very few deputies left in the room were entertaining themselves by making paper bow ties, dispatching their correspondence, or sucking on the president’s candies; sweets that the State provides this personage abundantly with, considering, perhaps, that to endure the bitterness of certain hours, a soft velvet seat, no matter how elevated, isn’t enough. From time to time, Don Simón would hear the floor granted to a deputy whose name was quite familiar to him. “Come on,” he thought, “now for the good stuff.” »
But he couldn’t make the most of it, because a shabby, ill-dressed figure would rise up, in a poorly voiced cricket-like voice, unleashing a torrent of tangled paragraphs that no one bothered to unravel; or a presumptuous, puffy-faced fellow, who between periods of his speech would put an eternity of short walks, tugging on his waistcoat, setting his lenses, and seas of sugar water; or a lazy, ailing Adam, who seemed to _get_ out the few limp sentences he uttered by rubbing himself against the bench and pulling up his underpants; or a puny, conceited young man, who, without knowledge, without virtues, without voice or speech, wanted to convince like the wise and convert like the just; or a daring, blond-nosed brat, whose only desire was to measure his strength against those of the _grave fathers_ of Parliament, who were very careful not to reply to him; now a choleric old man, whose rages caused laughter and whose jokes made one weep with compassion; now a sort of grimy Quaker, an unrepentant demagogue, who shouted about justice and love of neighbor, not in the name of God, whom he denied, blasphemous, but of a reason that seemed to be lacking in himself, since not in those who in holy calm he loved him. They listened… In short, he saw and heard everything, except what was to be expected, given the reputation of certain names accepted by public opinion, if not as first-rate tribunes, then at least as distinguished orators. What good would they be when Don Simón believed himself capable of participating in a debate with the most handsome of them all! It is true that the desire, which was beginning to eat away at him, to throw his money at the sword, made him see things as more within his reach than they actually were. It was certainly evident to him, and in this he was not mistaken, that the editing of the Journal of Sessions was in charge of converting the most complete string of nonsense into a perfect speech. And with this auxiliary making up for his absolute lack of rhetorical and even grammatical notions, he was left with so many stimuli that they spurred him on! There were some details in Parliament that were so seductive to him!… Those gallant ushers, carrying the glass of sugared water on the silver tray for the speaker as soon as he began to speak; those stenographers, scrupulously noting down everything that was said and done; those exchanges between the president and the deputy about the intention of a certain phrase; those back-and-forths between the same two powers, with which the altercation always ended; those galleries constantly jammed with amateurs, who followed without blinking every incident of a session; those elegant ladies, among whom his wife and daughter could be found; those diplomats, who might hasten to communicate by telegraph to their respective governments the effect of a speech delivered on time and in a certain way…, not impossible for him, if he gave it the right moment and not too much hurry, and lastly, and above all, that country that was watching him, and that the next day would begin to pronounce his name and learn about the matter and take him seriously… Heavens, how he envied those who, more daring or more practical… ,
or more pressed by circumstances, threw themselves immediately into the fight! What did the temper of the arguments matter there? What did it matter whether they were made of steel or cardboard? Did reasons decide those debates? It could hardly be so, when only the stenographers and the occasional curious person knew about them, not what was said, but how it was said. “What are we voting on?” was the obligatory question of every representative upon entering the session hall, after hearing the bell ringing outside announcing to the dispersed that a matter has concluded and a roll-call vote is about to begin. Depending on whether the voter was one of their own party or the enemy, the response was: “Vote YES,” or “Vote NO.” Such was the criterion used to resolve, and continue to resolve, the most important matters for the country! Considering this, were our representative’s pretensions so foolish? Little by little, that slightly agitated sea began to roar; the hurricanes of political passion blew, and the storm broke loose. Then the major gods of that Olympus showed themselves , who, like Jupiter in mythology, never appear except among lightning and thunderbolts. What a pilgrim mission! During that turbulent period, what scenes Don Simón witnessed! What scuffles! What riots! What scandals! Once, they were two athletes of Parliament, who from one side of the hall to the other hurled the sharpest barbs and the most poisonous insults at each other: “shameless party, factious group, sinister man, hungry gang.” Such compliments were the least they said, amid the absolute silence of the Chamber and the feverish curiosity of the galleries, from which overflowed clusters of human heads with their eyes fixed on the combatants, their eyebrows raised and their mouths open. And when Don Simón, after the storm had passed, saw them leave the hall by a different door, “those men,” he thought, “are going to kill each other now.” And he went out after them. bewildered; and they were found… eating, from the same plate, cream cakes in the house’s snack bar. Far from continuing the battle that had begun inside, their caustic smiles seemed to say of the entire nation what those two comedians had said of the public when they stood panting in the wings, after having crossed their swords on the stage, and then went out chasing each other, amid frenzied applause and cries of indignation: “Fools! They’ve seen us do the same thing twenty times, and they still haven’t convinced themselves that it’s all a farce!” Once again, two political factions, roaring with rage, rose up en masse, one against the other. “Fascists!” cried the one on the right. “Bellow-bellied!” replied the one on the left. And the shouts and threats, and the thunder of two hundred voices and two thousand blows of the baton filled the Sanctuary of Laws, and even the figures painted on the ceiling seemed to tremble and want to detach themselves from the canvas to smash their skulls against the marble of the chamber. But that storm had not been stirred up because one party’s faction had invalidated the plans of another, aimed at providing some benefit to the people. When it came to this, Don Simón already knew that the benches were deserted and the speaker dozed. Such tumults were always provoked by some stray word that was not to the liking of the faction to which it was addressed. Occasionally, facts were discussed, or files were unearthed, behind which the honor of some enemy deputy appeared, in the very clothes that common criminals usually wear to jail or prison . And those discussions provoked similar ones in the guise of reprisals; And with some always accusing and others responding ” it’s you more,” Don Simón began to doubt whether this was the courtyard of a correctional facility or, as he was assured, a respectable Assembly of legislators. Meanwhile, was it the noble desire to purge the atmosphere of certain impurities that moved the accusers to uncover such mischief? Certainly not: it was always partisan spirit; or rather, partisan hatred; for these edifying debates frequently arose between two groups that, together and in a friendly understanding, had recently tasted the sweetness of the budget. This was also proved by the curious circumstance that, once the fray was over, the accused remained in their benches, as fathers of their country as the most gentlemanly, and as fresh and rested as the mother who bore them. That these scandals, those riots, and the other insurrections bewildered Don Simón goes without saying, knowing, as we do, his simple good faith. But more than the events themselves, he was amazed by the scant trace they left in that house. Searching for him eagerly, the good man went from corridor to corridor and from parlor to parlor; but not even a bloodhound’s nose would have found him . Shouts were raised in some groups, whispers were raised in others, and everyone was agitated… and the editor of La Correspondencia bustled among them, pencil in one hand and sheets of paper in the other, jotting down what was being said, what was being thought, and even what hadn’t been dreamed of; and Don Simón, taking the necessary phrases from each group , could only conclude that the whole human turmoil was a pure lobbying scheme to keep those in power one more day in power, or to force those who loved him to let go. As for the nation, as for morality, as for what happened at home… it’s as if we were talking about China! No one remembered such _trivialities_. “It seems to me,” Don Simón then dared to say to a comrade older than him in the profession, but no more enthusiastic about the system, “that the greatest formality is not observed here… I mean that with these political animosities, the country gains nothing much. ” “The country is heading for the abyss, Mr. Peñascales! ” “What are you telling me? ” “The truth, comrade. This is a farce, believe it or not. ” “Man!… I didn’t dare say so much.” “Well, dare you, here where the country can’t hear us.” “Then, that is to say, all this Parliament stuff… ” “It’s a calamity. There’s nothing here but personal ambitions, without which any government is impossible. ” “You’re quite right. ” “And it will always be the same! ” “So that if _this_, which is notoriously bad, were to be abolished… ” “Never!” the veteran then cried, enraged. “I’m very liberal! ” “Oh, as for that, so am I!” the novice replied, waddling his feet, and even looking with pity at the first traditionalist who happened to pass by him, rubbing his hands together. “To live without Parliament is to live outside the century, to fall into abjection!” –And in ignorance!–concluded, in a low voice, the enlightened Cerojo, who in his life had never spent half a peseta on books that weren’t “ruled, for accounts.” Chapter 16. Don Simón de los Peñascales, like any deputy, now of greater ministerial prominence, received dozens of letters daily from his friends and constituents, and in every one of them these esteemed gentlemen asked him for something, from a posting to a hat; from a recommendation for the other world to the placement of a wet nurse. 5 Because a deputy is considered in his district capable of the impossible, and, consequently, he is believed, and is made, to be the best and cheapest business agent in Madrid. The one in our story, who believed he was important by responding to so many and such strange demands, devoted two days of the week to those that had to do with official centers, and entrusted the lowest-level ones to the care of Doña Juana. 5 Historical. It was quite a sight to see what happened in the Ministries when Don Simón entered them, at the hours set by the Ministers to receive the deputies , laden with demands and his pockets filled with memos ! His colleagues, who always got up earlier than he, had already descended upon the field like a cloud of locusts. One wanted a provincial government for his brother; another, a mayoralty on the island of Cuba for himself; another, a court for his people; another, a customs administration for a cousin ruined by the cause of liberty; another, the dismissal of an upright official who tenaciously opposed certain demands of his family; another, a promotion; another, a professorship… In short, there was no need to ask for anything there; and the Minister, or the Undersecretary, in his desire to please everyone, would incessantly tap the bell buttons, to whose music the high-ranking officials who could understand that accumulation of requests would appear. “It’s impossible,” someone heard someone say from one side. “There’s no vacancy. ” “Then create it. ” “The budget doesn’t allow it. ” “Lay off someone in such and such a position. ” “He’s a very old and intelligent employee. ” “My client is a consistent liberal. ” “He has seven children. ” “Let him send them to a charity house. ” “Anyway, we’ll oblige you. ” “And what’s the source of this sum being claimed? ” “From unjust layoffs suffered during reactionary governments. ” “That’s not enough reason; and even if it were, we’re not authorized to… ” “It’s all a trifle. ” “How much is the compensation? ” “Seventy thousand reales. ” “Impossible. ” “Why? ” “Because there are no funds to draw from. ” “I say yes. ” “Which one? ” “Public calamities, for example. ” “It’s exhausted; and besides, we’ve had the clergy and schoolteachers unpaid for half a century.” “And what do I care? What you must keep in mind is that my representative is the best agent of government policy in your town; that he is a tireless propagandist for it, and that perhaps it is to his heroic efforts that I owe my election. ” “Anyway, I’ll talk to the chief, and we’ll try to please you. ” “And how is my business going? ” “So-so.” –That’s not enough. –There’s a very difficult obstacle to overcome. –What? –The ruling of the Council of State, entirely contrary… –Damn! Since when? –Since this morning. Here it is for Your Excellency’s approval . –This ruling must be revoked! –I don’t see it as easy. –But I see it as necessary. It harms the interests of my family to a degree you can’t conceive. –That’s all well and good; but… –There are no buts that are worth it. –_Anyway_, talk to the chief, who, if he wants, can do a lot. Don Simón heard all these conversations, and many others like them, upon his entry into the Ministries, while he made his way through that tangled labyrinth of suitors and grantors; and on such occasions, as he was novice enough in the trade to have completely lost his blush, a few sparks usually flew across his face… which didn’t prevent him from getting his requests to the point where they had to be attended to. It’s true that he wasn’t going to ask for anything for himself or his family; but it’s also true that he asked for his friends or protégés, and that when he asked, he never asked, “Is it fair?” but rather, “Is it possible?” Don Simón’s blush, then, was nothing short of pharisaical. He needed only a few of these visits to those veritable trading houses to discover the ingredient with which the ministerial hosts clung so tenaciously to power. He would have been blind not to see it, and even blind not to distinguish among the invading cloud more than one rabid opposition member who touched the sky with his hands every time he heard talk, outside of those places, of positions granted to favors, or of the nation’s wealth squandered. Because it turns out that ordinary governments, whether because they are defended or because they are not beaten too hard, need to be generous with their own troops as much as with their enemies. What Don Simón never fully understood was the repugnant role he himself played among those men, whose conduct, and rightly so, shocked him. Many of them, however, lived on nothing else, nor was it easy for them to guess what they would live on when their positions ceased, or their own people fell. But he, a rich man, much richer, infinitely richer than he needed for the very luxurious support of his small family, why did he collect in credentials and favors from the Ministries a support at all costs that he gave to the Government, with no more judgment or greater dignity than if he were a salaried Swiss? And it is not surprising that he did not see it. Thanks to these procedures, many men who, outside of it, don’t have a single garret to shelter themselves in, and others who, having much more, need to climb to great heights to be noticed and perhaps envied, leap to the top of the nation’s throne in one fell swoop, and are able to throw the nation’s house out the window. Don Simón, as we know, was one of the latter. Vanity was as powerful in him as ambition or hunger in many others. And if this weren’t true, why were elections almost always held by means of a club? Why does a representative, the more often he is a representative, desire to be one again with more eagerness? Is true patriotism so abundant that it is necessary to conquer with bullets the annoyance and regret of leaving one’s own home, family, and business to go and take care of others? Chapter 17. We now know that Don Simón, although greatly flattered by the importance his own position conferred on him in the high places where it carried some weight, was not satisfied. His ambition for luster extended far beyond that. What was he still at court? Who spoke of the Lord of the Peñascales, or of the family of the Lord of the Peñascales? What newspaper had praised his opulence, or the severe dignity of Doña Juana, or the charms of Juliet? Perhaps those reams of prospectuses, or those circulars from manufacturers who “have just received their supplies for the season,” or the obituaries, or the insipid pamphlets The letters that reached him daily and profusely through the internal mail, and which he initially believed to be signs of special deference to his person, since the senders were unknown to him, were they not sent to him in the name of a member of the Cortes? Weren’t they also received by all his colleagues, many of whom had nothing to worry about? And apart from these distinctions and those we also know about, what other awards had he received up to this point? He definitely needed to do something extraordinary in his two concepts of a politician and wealthy individual. For example: deliver a speech in the Cortes and give a ball at his home. Lost in such meditations, he was walking one afternoon in the conference room , alone and dejected, when a young man with lustrous sideburns and a twisted mustache, pleasant of face and immaculately dressed, approached him and said with the utmost solemnity: “Greetings to the Lord of the Peñascales!” He turned and looked at the other attentively; and as he didn’t recognize him, he was surprised. “Public figures,” added the intruder, seeing Don Simón’s surprise, “are often like this. How well they are known by so many people they have never seen!… But as for me, the fear of a cold response should not take away the pleasure I receive from shaking the hand of a person worthy of my complete respect. ” “A million thanks from me,” said Don Simón then, a little puffed up by such flattery, and even wondering if he was more popular than he thought. “I won’t accept them, sir,” replied the young man, breaking into courtesies. ” I wished to shake your hand; I just saw you pensive and alone, and I have chosen this occasion… And speaking of thoughts, are you going to talk tomorrow, perhaps?” “Tomorrow? Tomorrow, you say? Well, not exactly tomorrow,” Don Simón responded, disconcerted, for two reasons: because they had read part of his thoughts, and he didn’t like this, and because he immediately seemed capable of speaking in Congress, which flattered him beyond all reason. “I had thought so, I don’t know why,” the intruder added. “We journalists are so accustomed to arguing even about facial features!” “So you’re a journalist?” Don Simón exclaimed, more and more satisfied. “Up to a point, Señor de los Peñascales.” “I don’t understand…” “I mean,” the other continued, adjusting his glasses on his nose, “that I’m a journalist by devotion, not by profession. To be more precise: I kill my free time and boredom writing the exciting political section for a combative newspaper. For the rest, by inclination and by career, I’m a diplomat.” “Hello!” said Don Simón, his eyes wide open. “As an attaché, perhaps, to some embassy? ” “A little more. ” “Secretary, perhaps… ” “A little more, if you please. ” “Good heavens!” shouted Peñascales, even remembering his daughter. “In that case,” he added, “are you on leave? ” “No, sir: retired. ” “And so young! ” “Mr. Peñascales, politics knows no age or service. ” “That’s true. ” “Especially when we civil servants have character and dignity. ” “That’s also true. But don’t you intend to return to the service?” “I see it as difficult with this Government, with which I will never be reconciled as long as I observe that it gives to favor what it owes to merit. ” “According to that, do you consider yourself neglected?” “I only know, my respected friend, that given my background, given my services up until the day I left office, I was entitled to a first-class embassy today… ” “And perhaps they have offered you… ” “An indignity, Señor de los Peñascales… what a third-rate consul can perform. ” “What an atrocity!” exclaimed Don Simón, sincerely scandalized. ” Well, that’s how it goes, my friend. But I’m not surprised, because I’m an old man in this house, and I know even its smallest hiding places. ” “You must have been a deputy several times…” “I haven’t wanted to be one… or rather, they have always had the intention of Governments have been careful to wage as much war against me at the polls as they can. Don’t you see that governments like Spain’s don’t benefit from men like me in Parliament?… Now they offered me a district; but it was to make me forget, you fools!, the snub of the embassy, ​​and especially to tie my hands in the press: since they already know that their lives depend on my pen every day. –So you’re in the opposition? –I’ll tell you: I observe a wait-and-see attitude. I threaten from time to time ; I give in when I see that they give in, and I return to benevolence… Because I know that the country is not in the mood for scandals or noisy falls. Ah… well, if it weren’t for this patriotism that enslaves me!… And he tapped his calf twice with his reed, while he reasserted his glasses on his nose. Don Simón, who believed him as a matter of faith, never ceased to revel in the idea that a man of such worth knew him, admired him, and judged him capable of speaking there like the most handsome. Under this impression, he said to him, after a few moments of silence: “Well, returning to the question with which you did me the honor of greeting me, you must know that it surprised me, all the more so since it was within striking distance of my thoughts. ” “Naturally. Diplomat and journalist, imagine what I’m hiding! ” “That’s not to say tomorrow precisely… ” “It’s the same, Señor Don Simón. It will be the day after tomorrow, or in a few days… ” “It could be. ” “And what are you going to talk about?” asked the journalist, taking some paper and a pencil out of his briefcase. Here Don Simón found himself caught, having not yet thought about the when or the subject. “Well, man,” he replied for the sake of saying something, “I’m going to talk… about… You see, there are so many things that one…” “Come on, I understand you now. The speech will be about some important matter for the province you represent. ” “Exactly,” exclaimed Don Simón, while the other was writing with a pencil on a sheet of paper on the marble of the adjacent fireplace. “Let’s see if this is it,” said the journalist a little while later, reading to the deputy what he had written. “In a few days, the opulent deputy Don Simón de los Peñascales will address in the Cortes a matter of vital interest for the district he represents. The authority with which, due to his brilliant social position, this worthy member of the Chamber is invested, and the talent that distinguishes him, lead us to believe that the discussion will be one of the most interesting of its kind to be held in the current legislature.” Don Simón was ecstatic. When that paragraph was published, his name would begin to sound as resounding as he wished; _But_, once it was published, he made a commitment to talk, to talk a lot, and not to speak ill at all. So he couldn’t help but say to the journalist: “Canary Islander, Canary Islander!… You do me a great favor; but… ” “Do you think I’m flattering you? Bah!… Leaving aside the fact that you deserve it , and much more, we don’t spend anything else here. ” “I see that; but even so… And what is the name of your newspaper ? ” “El Ariete. ” “Very well known, indeed. ” “Oh! First-rate. Starting tomorrow you’ll receive it at your house. ” “Thank you so much.” “Precisely all the notable men in politics and the stock market are subscribers _also_. Only you were missing, so to speak. ” “In that case,” said Don Simón, then understanding the journalist’s intention , which was certainly not to give him the newspaper, ” send me the receipt.” “In due time, Señor de los Peñascales.” With men like you, the administration maintains certain confidentiality procedures. It certainly wouldn’t maintain them with many of your colleagues. You have to have sharper eyes than Argos here! “Man, you’re exaggerating! ” “Do you want me to write you some biographies? I assure you they’ll be delightful. ” “There’s no reason for it, there’s no reason for it,” Don Simón hastened to respond. as if afraid of compromising himself with the diplomat’s officious spontaneity; who immediately added: “And your esteemed family, are you enjoying yourself in Madrid? ” “Phew… Since you still don’t know the terrain well, even though you have many good acquaintances… ” “True: the intimacy of the provinces is missing, the constant contact, certain intimate meetings… And by the way: I think I understood that you were thinking of holding some. ” “You’re the devil himself!” Don Simón jumped in, amazed that I had also read his second thought. “So it’s true? ” “Phew…” the poor man replied again, smiling with pleasure. “Magnificent information for the Salon Chronicle!” said the journalist, taking out his supplies again and writing quickly on another sheet of paper. While he was doing this, Don Simón admired him more and more, not so much for his strange ease, as for the reverent regard he seemed to deserve. Without knowing why, everything about the man interested him; so he was burning with desire to know his name, and imagine how curious! He was a bachelor. The journalist finished writing and immediately read the following to Don Simón: “Very soon, the good society of Madrid will have another center of entertainment and elegance. The opulent capitalist and member of the Cortes, Don Simón de los Peñascales, and his distinguished family, are preparing to receive their numerous friends in their splendid salons on San Jerónimo Street.” “But you compromise me!” said Don Simón, trembling with pleasure, upon receiving this shower of compliments. “And if I never get to give those receptions? ” “Nothing will happen, and peace. But what are you supposed to do but give them?” Rich and enlightened men who, like you, also have a lady who is a model of elegance and charm, and a daughter, the epitome of every imaginable charm… “But what do you know about all that?” asked Don Simón, already a sweetheart . “Could you perhaps believe,” responded the diplomat, exploiting the deputy’s candor to his liking, “that people of your stature go unnoticed anywhere? Bah! You are known in Madrid almost as much as in your province. ” “Good heavens, it must be true!” thought the bolognese; and he added aloud: ” You are flattering me, no doubt. ” “That is not my character, Señor de los Peñascales,” responded the young man, feigning offense. “I mean…” the first one hastened to correct himself. “Let’s make a point of it, my friend. ” “Since you wish, let’s do it. And may I ask, Your Grace?” “Arturo Marañas; and to top it all off, Andalusian and single. ” “Single too!” exclaimed Don Simón, unable to hide his joy. “And what surprises you? ” “Nothing, nothing,” the candid deputy corrected himself, stunned, “but, since you said it after your surname, ha ha ha! It amused me greatly. ” “Ha ha ha!… That’s how I am,” said the diplomat, playing into his humor. “Since I owe nothing, and fear nothing and no one, I give away my entire passport when they ask me my name… But I notice,” he said, suddenly interrupting himself and consulting his watch, “that in the pleasure of being at your side, I forget one of my duties. So, if you’ll give me your permission, I’ll return to my tribune to take some notes on today’s session . ” “Well, of course I should…! Run along, my friend; and thank you a thousand times for so many kindnesses.” –Señor Don Simón… –Señor Don Arturo… –See you later. –See you later. The young man left, and Peñascales was left feeling like a fool. This meeting seemed providential to him. A diplomat, and a single diplomat; a journalist announcing his future speech and his planned meetings, and a probable praiser of both in the press. All this in one room and at his orders. Because it was now essential for him to give his speech and open his rooms. It was true that the name of the diplomat, whom he would have to invite to his house, it didn’t sound familiar to him; but was he under any obligation to know all the political figures, since they are so numerous these days? At this point, the aforementioned bell rang, and a colleague of his from the majority, who, from his haste and sour face, looked more like a bandleader. “Go vote!” he said in a sour tone. “What vote?” Don Simón asked him, preparing to obey. “Yes,” the other replied, passing by and anxiously searching the alleys and corners, like a shepherd gathering his flock. Chapter 18. Doña Juana and Julieta continued to enjoy themselves as much as they could in Madrid, but not completely satisfying their aspirations. They were close enough not to go to the theater alone, and from time to time to attend some meetings of a “medium nature”; But not enough to be considered among the most sparkling of Madrid’s _good tone_, which was what they desired. This understood, you can imagine their astonishment and immense joy when Don Simón surprised them with the newspaper in which the two excerpts we know were printed, and with the news that their author was an elegant young man with the airs of an ambassador. That day, no one ate or did anything of note in the house. They read the fascinating paragraphs a hundred and one times, with Julieta being snatched by Doña Juana; from Doña Juana by Don Simón; and Julieta by Don Simón; and so for an hour and two hours, and all morning and all afternoon, without a word exchanged between the three members of the family; but all laughing, like idiots, at every moment, perhaps thinking of the effect the news was having on the public, and—why deny it?—on the elegant journalist. Nearing dusk, and just as the ecstatic figures were beginning to recover, Doña Juana proposed that they purchase a few dozen copies of that issue of El Ariete and flood her father’s district and the provincial capital with them. This proposal was enthusiastically accepted, so the esteemed family spent the rest of the night packing newspapers and writing to as many notable people of their country as they could remember. However, it wasn’t all hunky dory for Don Simón; if the festivities were immediately feasible, with the obstacles being surmountable with money, the speech was a difficult one, given that, up to that moment, he had neither tested his parliamentary strength nor even chosen a subject for his debut. His friends from the city and the electors of the district frequently wrote to him , asking not only for what we have already seen he obtained for them without difficulty in the Ministries, but also for a multitude of other bargains in the form of privileges or material improvements, which could not be granted without the approval of the Cortes. From the city, for example, he was asked for more or less substantial exemptions for commerce or navigation, on the grounds of I don’t know what merits the town had acquired during certain political crises… or meteorological ones, for when it comes to asking, every reason is given for a just motive: from the district they demanded roads or canals; and such an elector, because he had lost his harvest due to I don’t know what plague, sought to have his tax for that year pardoned, in addition to being given grain for the new sowing, and to immediately declare his son, who was to enter the next lottery, exempt from military service. Our deputy always intended to draw inspiration from this arsenal of pretensions for his speech: he must have had two reasons for this since the newspaper insert obliged him to speak on matters of interest to his province. But among so many and so varied that were offered to his view, which was the most appropriate for the orator to show off, if not the most worthy by its nature? This was his great question for several days, from the day he felt the need to formalize his previously vague purpose. Tremendous and many were his thoughts on this subject. Finally, like a child who suddenly finds the spring that easily prints Moving a machine, until then immobile in the face of the most desperate efforts, he stamped his foot and slapped his buttocks three times, thus violating, for the first time in many years, the composure and circumspection he maintained even with himself. He had managed to resolve the difficulty very simply. Instead of choosing a single issue among so many, and asking for just one thing, it was preferable to ask for them all and more. This, rather than providing greater benefits for his country, opened a wider field to his imagination. He would therefore present a proposal to Congress asking for the franchises for commerce and navigation requested by his friends; a highway for each town, connected to the general highway; and exemption from payment of pecuniary and blood taxes for the entire province for the coming year, by virtue of the merits of the well-known plague… and many other reasons that he would know how to expound in such a way as to bring not only conviction to the minds of the deputies, but also terror and consternation. Firm in his resolve, he began to study his role, writing at times and seeking out the house’s most solitary offices at others, to maneuver at will and rehearse interesting postures in front of a mirror and behind a chair, on the back of which he rested his hands to imitate as closely as possible the position he would occupy in Congress on the day he spoke. His wife and daughter, meanwhile, with the advice, skill, and resources borrowed from a renowned upholsterer, were preparing their house to hold the first meeting as soon as possible, with the luxury that the public had a right to demand from “the opulent lords of the Peñascales.” When the temple was suitably decorated, the priestesses well dressed, and the bar lavishly stocked, on the advice of people familiar with the most demanding interests of _good society_, and the invitations distributed, _El Ariete_ published the following news: “In accordance with what we said in our previous issue, in the _Crónica de salóns_, this evening the lords of the Peñascales will inaugurate theirs. We know that everything will be worthy, as much of the brilliant crowd that will fill them, as of the proverbial kindness and exquisite taste of the ladies of the house, and the well -accredited prodigality of the opulent patrician and illustrious host.” And they opened, and they were indeed filled; for that reason, in addition to family intimacies, Don Simón had invited the entire Congress of Deputies, authorizing them to bring their ladies, those who had them, or people they trusted; And nowhere in the civilized world is a celebration snubbed that, to top it all off, offers an opportunity to gorge one’s stomach for nothing. I will not abuse the reader’s patience by recounting point by point what happened there, nor will I tell you how many founding fathers wore their tailcoats ill-fitting, as if they weren’t cut to size, nor which of these distinguished patricians’ ladies were stitched together from the faded scraps of the trunk, nor which _visible_ families of the court were represented there by a handsome young man or a seductive lady. Some of this and much more was reported in detail the following day by the newspapers that make it their custom, and it is still recorded in them. I must only state that Julieta looked like a royal young lady, and that the well-known diplomat from _El Ariete_ never left her side for a single instant ; that Doña Juana was filled with contentment, so full, so excited , and so restless was she in the house; that Don Simón went out of his way to give gifts to everyone, despite being somewhat annoyed by the circumstance that an unexpected Council of Ministers had prevented some of them from honoring the house with their presence; and, finally, that the company, wishing to reciprocate in a worthy manner to so many gifts, danced vigorously; searched the entire house; murmured in every corner about the simplicity of the owner and the noisy _kitchenette_ of his lady; knocked the piano out of tune; tore off two curtains along with part of the partitions; sucked or He pocketed half a thousand rich cigars and left the bar as if a hurricane had passed over it . Not a crumb was left there. For the reason mentioned above, I will not reproduce some of the paragraphs dedicated to the party by _El Ariete_ the following day, in which strange things were said about Julieta regarding her black eyes, silky eyelashes, dark complexion, and turgid breasts; painting her as the reality of the most oriental dream, and placing her above all sultanas past and present. Of course, these compliments were the fruit of the young diplomat’s ardent imagination. But in the absence of these and other delicious speculations, I must transcribe a letter that Doña Juana wrote to a close friend of hers in the city the day after the party, and which, corrected by me only in the most essential spelling for the reader’s better understanding, read verbatim as follows: “You will have seen from the papers how we planned to hold proper meetings at home. Well, my friend, everything that was said there was a farce compared to what happened last night. Oh, my dear Doña Regustiana! Let me take my breath away here, because, as a result, my head is like a drum and my palate is raw. Well, as I was saying, the initial news was the memory of a single ambassador who comes to our house often, and keep this a secret, just in case, since he also writes in public papers. Well, my friend, the people who came here last night were a mixed bunch. I tell you, the carriages couldn’t fit in the street; and from the noise they made, I understood that the situation was becoming heated. “Since my husband is so conspicuous in the Cortes, and among the most prominent, a horde of deputies came with their families; and it was a close call that two ministers, close friends of Simón, didn’t come. But they’ll come another day, God willing; these functions must be repeated. So, to the point. Crowds of people also came from outside the Cortes, and all the friends from home, and a lot of the well-to-do society that was already meeting us… My dear, this isn’t praise; but how this evil devil of Juliet sang, and what hands he had tapping on the pedestal! I tell you , the house was in full swing afterward with the clapping. The ambassador was emphatic with enthusiasm. I don’t know what this will lead to from the ambassador; But , hide it very well if you’re going to be like that, I tell you, I don’t know what it’s going to turn out to be. “Well, the house was decorated with great taste; for I assure you that in Madrid the impossible can be achieved if you have a lot of money. We even had gourds (búcaros), as Doña Juana would mean, and the carpet and the statues reached the doorway. “Although everyone was very respectable, it was glorious to see how they amused themselves dancing and doing a thousand pranks all night long without a wince. Well, what was magnificent was the amegud the innkeeper set up for us in the dining room; for since we didn’t haggle over the price, the man put there everything God created, with his foie gras pâté, no doubt, and his tufted turkey (truffé). So people were saying, at the top of their lungs, that no one like her had ever been seen in Madrid .” Well, I assure you, Doña Regustiana, that we thought the money it cost us was well spent, seeing how all that important nobility was shoveling it down their throats without further ado. I don’t know where the saying that these fine people are fussy about eating came from; and, as I live, I assure you, they won’t have greater openness at the table than they had in my house. Look, Doña Regustiana, seeing how they dispatched everything that was set before them, and not knowing how distinguished and pampered those people were, anyone would believe that many of them had come to my house to stave off hunger. So, see if there was openness at the gathering. So, whatever money you spend in Madrid, it will soon shine. It’s a pleasure, my daughter. So we’re very encouraged to bring another friend to the first dance we have, which will be soon, depending on how satisfied we are. “Today the papers are talking about nothing else, and I am sending you a dozen them to distribute to her friends, in addition to what Simón will send by mail. “We do a lot of paperwork here, and much more awaits us if Simón’s tirade against the Cortes turns out well! He really does a lot of hand-waving in the rehearsals he has in his room with himself. He will always snatch up some minister by the roots, and His Majesty will force him to take up a portfolio. Well, I would be sorry, because the man is already too contrite from work; and although with it he would have a better mood, and could go to the palace as if it were his own home, health comes first, Doña Regustiana; that to a barking dog, barley to the tail. “Well, Julieta debuted a dress the color of a fried egg, with a pouf overskirt, and a straight skirt of rubies and trumpets. I had a high bodice and a half-trained skirt…. Anyway, you’ll see in the papers, which describe it without mincing words. “Well, I wish you would tell me what is being said about us with these atrocious triumphs. Julieta isn’t writing because she’s sleeping. My eyelids are drooping with sleep, because, my daughter, I haven’t slept a wink since last night; and that’s why I’m not more lavish in this letter. Another time I’ll tell you what I’m withholding now, which I assure you, Doña Regustiana, is much and good. “So please accept many kisses from Julieta and kind regards from my husband; and with regards to her friends, this is your servant, who truly esteems you, JUANA ALUBIÓN DE LOS PEÑASCALES.” Chapter 19. Days passed, and with them the intimacy between Julieta and the diplomat grew , to the point where they could be seen as shadow and body in the streets, walks, and spectacles; It should be noted that Don Simón not only consented to this, but encouraged it with repeated attentions to him, and with excessive praise for his qualities when speaking of him in the family. As for Doña Juana, she was a mother, and a fool, and vain to boot. How could she not be enthusiastic about this young man who, beyond being a personage, showered her and her entire caste with incense in the newspapers and flattery in conversation? How could she not repay him with all kinds of deference for the popularity he was bringing to the Peñascales family in Madrid? And what could happen in the end? That Julieta and Arturo would come to regard each other as if they were born for each other? Well, all the better. Wasn’t she rich? Wasn’t he a personage? Wasn’t he young? Didn’t he have talent and elegance? It is true that, up to that date, the ambassador had not proven with any credentials that he had really and effectively been one; But weren’t his assertion enough, and, above all, the familiarity he allowed himself with ministers and deputies in the conference room? In any case, Don Simón was already planning to request, with a certain tact and when the time came, the necessary information from someone who could provide it. For now, he consulted with him on some points he should touch on in his speech, and gratefully accepted the amendments he made and the advice he gave him regarding the use of certain phrases and certain openings. He had already presented his proposal to the Cortes when he was summoned with great urgency by the Minister of the Interior, his special friend. He went to the meeting in a hurry; His Excellency locked him in the most hidden closet of his office; and after running his hand along his back and giving him a fig, “How are your funds in Madrid?” he asked him bluntly. Don Simón was petrified. That question, after all the other preparations, made him fear that the Minister would pick his pocket. He recognized his misgivings, as if reading them on his face, and hastened to say to him, bursting into laughter: “I’m not asking to borrow from you, Señor Don Simón… My friend, you rich men have your peace of mind hanging by a thread.” Don Simón then turned petrified again; but it was with embarrassment when he saw his base suspicions discovered; and as if to correct it, he responded with great fuss: “Ah, Señor Minister! You misjudge me very much. You already know that when “I am, and I am at your disposal. ” “Thank you very much,” His Excellency replied sarcastically. “But, fortunately, that is not the point now, but quite the opposite. ” “Excuse me!” exclaimed Peñascales, his eyes wide open. “In a word, I wish to demonstrate to you that the Government is a good friend to its friends, by revealing to you, in confidence, the opportunity to make a good deal. ” “Let’s see, let’s see!” said Don Simón eagerly, leaning closer to the Minister. “You know,” he continued, “how we are authorized, by a show of trust for which we can never thank the Cortes enough, not only to allocate resources with which we can overcome the extremely serious obstacles that hinder the unencumbered progress of the Treasury while the new budgets are being discussed, but also to decide as we please when and how; in short, we have been given broad powers to contract. ” “Agreed. ” “Well then: the Government now has its plan formed, its resolution made.” “Go ahead. ” “And since you are one of their best friends, my colleagues and I wish to inform you, before the public, of certain details, so that, as a businessman, you may prepare yourself… and… you understand. ” “Thank you very much! But those details… ” “I’ll go. The Government… And, for God’s sake, be as secretive as a dungeon in this matter ; the Government is going to make a loan by subscription. It will issue paper with an annual interest of 20 percent. ” “Squeeze it! ” “My colleagues and I believed that such a lure would be the best incentive. The opposition will say that we are doing it because the Treasury is bankrupt, and because a drowning man doesn’t look after his mouth; but I assure you that whoever says such things would be wrong. For his part, the Minister of Finance undertakes to demonstrate to you that the loan, despite this interest, is being made on extremely advantageous terms for the State. ” “It’s possible,” Don Simón observed, wrinkling his face. “I haven’t concluded yet,” His Excellency added. “The paper will be issued at seventy percent. ” “Good Barbara! ” “Another advantage for the subscriber! ” “Yes, yes!” Don Simón grumbled. “Doesn’t the deal seem clear enough to you yet?” the Minister asked him with a mischievous smile. “It’s not exactly that,” the deputy responded uncertainly. “It’s just that, as a general rule, I don’t like business dealings in paper. ” “But when the paper yields twenty and is bought at a discount of thirty… ” “Well, so what? ” “With the lure of that extraordinary interest… imagine! ” “Yes; but I don’t see any guarantees… ” “What better guarantee than public favor?” –Furthermore, Mr. Minister, and this is the pure truth: I have no more funds in Madrid than those strictly necessary to cover my family needs, nor can I divert large sums from my business . –Well, if you had to do that,–the Minister then said, putting great emphasis on his words,–what would be the consideration the Ministry wishes to show you? –I don’t understand… –If it’s really a matter of you making _the move_ without paying a farthing, or a little more! –If you would explain… –Do you believe, dear soul,–the Minister continued, exaggerating the declamatory tone of his speech,–that a note issued at seventy with an interest of twenty, will not rise by another twenty… or even ten, the day after the loan is covered… when it is opened perhaps? Well, you sell on the spot, and in this way you make the deal of the century in a couple of days . “Yes : that’s the ABC of the trade,” said Don Simón with a touch of disdain; “but what if instead of going up, it goes down? ” “Friend, the sky is falling!… But how can a piece of paper like that come down in four days?” Don Simón wasn’t so much a Tyrolean in business as in politics; which is why he spent a long time defending himself against the Minister’s disinterested pressures . But the truth is that he was rather flattered by the consideration that, while there were risks involved in taking out such a cheap and high- yielding paper, if he managed to stick to his guns, he would be making the most rewarding deal imaginable. And since he was both driven by incentive and restrained by fear, he lacked the energy to make a definitive decision. His Excellency surprised him in these doubts, reading his face as if it were an open book. “So you’re definitely not up for it?” he said, eager to force him further and further. “The matter is difficult,” Don Simón responded, looking down at his toes . His Excellency, realizing that this path would not lead him to his intended goal, resolved to take the shortcut, and consequently, expressed himself thus: “You must also consider that taking out this paper will be an eminently patriotic act , given the extraordinary circumstances that compel the Government to create it.” “Without a doubt.” “But…” Don Simón responded, without giving any further details. “So patriotic,” the Minister added, “that, taking the Government into account, he has resolved… and this you will have to hide even from your own shadow! ” “Of course,” said Don Simón, feeling his curiosity excited. ” And
what is it that he has resolved? ” “To honorably distinguish the six greatest subscribers. ” “And what is that manner?” Don Simón asked then, blinded by vanity. “It is a matter,” the Minister responded, speaking very softly and looking around, as if he feared being overheard, “of distributing among the six aforementioned subscribers four noble titles and two Grand Crosses… And this is another of the reasons I have had, at the request of my colleagues, and even His Majesty, for speaking to you before anyone else; For we know that the loan will have many eager takers, and we hope that its benefits will accrue to men as worthy of them as yourself. Don Simón greatly loved his fortune, but not to the point of being incapable of sacrificing a large part of it in exchange for a crown for his letterheads and carriages, and a parchment that would elevate him to the level of the most exalted aristocracy. The Minister, therefore, could not have offered him a more stimulating lure. Did Your Excellency know? I won’t say, even if I could. What I must record is that Don Simón’s mouth watered; his heart pounded with unusual force; his legs trembled, and, as if by magic, those qualms that had previously prevented him from seeing the purchase of the paper as a profitable business disappeared. Why should the paper fall and not rise? And if it did, what would all the loss be worth? And in any case, how could he snub His Majesty, who, apparently, was determined to ennoble him? All this and much more occurred to Don Simón in a single instant; and it so influenced his mind that he only had one thing to say to the Minister, very afraid of seeming too demanding: “If you would allow me to think a little about the matter… I will postpone my response for a few days.” The Minister knew only too well that such a proposition was a way, like any other, of concealing from him that Don Simón had won him over by the promise of a noble title. So, happily agreeing to his request, he then said, to further compel him: “I must add one thing to you, to conclude our conversation; and that is that the Government, thanks to the support of men as important as yourself, is secured for a long time, and that as long as I live, that role must merit its decisive protection.” “My support,” replied Don Simón, softer than a glove, “will not be lacking as long as I see you willing to look after the interests of the country. ” “Tomorrow I will give you further proof that the good of the country is your only concern… ” “Tomorrow, you say? ” “Assuming that you support his proposal that day, as _El Ariete_ claims today…. And by the way: you have good friends in the Press. ” Don Simón, who had not yet read the news that the Minister, from the bottom of his heart, he paid a new tribute of gratitude to the tireless zeal of the diplomat, and replied: “An undeserved favor that you have granted me. ” “Justice is done to you, my friend. And I would even dare to say to whom it is owed. ” “Really?” Don Simón asked anxiously, believing that the opportunity had arrived to know what he desired about young Arturo. “That boy is the devil himself!” said his Excellency, smiling. “So you know him? ” “And who doesn’t know him in Madrid?… I mean, assuming he is who I believe him to be, as the newspaper, the style of the articles, and his frequent visits with you in the conference room lead me to believe. ” “So you are alluding to…? ” “The illustrious Arturo Marañas.” “Indeed, I know him, but superficially…; I mean, there is no such thing among us… ” “Of course, my friend.” How could I have believed that there was any other kind of dealings between a man like you and a person like that? ‘ ‘Well, I thought you were a… half-baked individual,’ replied Don Simón, concealing the unpleasant effect the minister’s last words had on him, who added: ‘Everyone seems like one today, Señor de los Peñascales. ‘ ‘And I could even swear,’ he insisted, ‘that I had heard you say that you belonged to the diplomatic corps. ‘ His Excellency burst out laughing. ‘Then it’s not true?’ exclaimed Don Simón. ‘Then you have never represented Spain in any foreign court?’ The minister laughed again with all his heart. Don Simón then also burst out laughing; but his laugh was that of a rabbit. Then he exclaimed: ‘But is it possible that someone lies with such impudence?’ ‘Indeed, what amuses me most about that man,’ said His Excellency afterward , ‘is his special ability to lie without completely failing to tell the truth!’ “I don’t understand…” “Did he perhaps tell you that he was an ambassador? ” “Closer than that…” “And that governments have always opposed his candidacy at the polls, out of fear of him. ” “Ha, ha, ha! ” “Which is why he has not yet managed to become a deputy. ” “Ha, ha, ha! ” “So it’s not true, eh? ” “Not a hundred leagues away! ” “What a devil of a boy!” exclaimed Don Simón, pinching his thighs. “I remember,” continued the minister, “that once he was given an extraordinary commission, which no one had wanted to accept, to the coast of Africa, in connection with some shipwrecked sailors who were on the point of being swallowed up by those barbarians; and I know that several times his attempts to present himself as a ministerial candidate in a district have been rejected . This is what he undoubtedly calls belonging to the diplomatic corps and being feared by governments. ” “Obviously!” “Ha, ha, ha! ” “Ha, ha, ha!” repeated Don Simón reluctantly, believing he already knew too much and rising to his feet. “There’s such a cat in Madrid,” said the minister, also rising, “that he’ll get out of sight! And I don’t say this precisely for young Arturo, of whom, in all honesty, I know nothing that can disgrace him, apart from that eagerness he always shows to give himself an importance he doesn’t have. But there are many other birds of great importance, from which one must avoid like the plague. ” “I don’t sleep on straw!” observed Don Simón, wanting to tell a joke. “As for the rest,” added His Excellency, leading him to the door of his office, ” I excuse myself from recommending to you again the matter that has brought us here, and the most complete confidentiality for a few days. ” “As for confidentiality,” said Don Simón, puffing himself up greatly, “it’s not to boast; But I’m just like a cork oak. “I know that, my friend,” replied the minister, smiling, perhaps with no ulterior motive . And our deputy came down the stairs fuming. He thought it was taking him too long to get home to close the doors on the fake diplomat. If he had made the inquiries he had just made about this character the day before , he would have been An act would have severed all relations with him: how could he not act in this way, since he was destined to become the title of Castile? What would the old aristocracy say if they saw him cultivating the company of such a charlatan? But was there still time to avoid something he suspected? Would Juliet be as determined as he was to cut off all ties with that man? But if she were not, when better than then would his rights as a father and head of the family be of any use to him? In the midst of these and other musings, he arrived home; so opportunely that he found young Arturo there in intimate conversation with Juliet, while Doña Juana pretended not to notice, moving chairs and dolls that were very much in their place. “Señor Don Arturo,” said Don Simón without further ceremony, upon appearing on the scene, “I have to speak with you, alone, for a few words.” The man addressed, as refined as ever and unaware of what was about to happen to him, picked up his hat from a chair, rose from it , and said to the newcomer, ” I am always at your service.” Don Simón led him to the vestibule; and, laying his hand on the bolt of the stair door, he said very seriously: “Since I never lie, I always take men at their word. Taking your word for it, I opened my heart and the doors of my house to you. Today I learned that you are not worthy of either of them, and I’m kicking you out the door.” And he opened the door wide. Arturo suddenly turned pale; but quickly recovering his composure, he put on his hat and responded with impudence and a certain haughtiness: “There is nothing in my life that can shame me; therefore, I demand an explanation of those insulting words you have addressed to me .” “I need give no more explanation than this!” said Don Simón, pushing him up the stairs and immediately closing the door. Arturo, seeing himself thus treated, roared with rage; and, not knowing what course to take at such a critical moment, contented himself, for the moment, with pressing his mouth to the window and shouting at the top of his lungs: “Fool! Tremble for yourself!” And he went down the stairs at once, as if the devils were carrying him. But Don Simón heard the threat and trembled; not from fear of death, but from horror at the word “fool!” with which that man, the same man who had so often praised his talent, had baptized him. When had he told him the truth? Stupided by this doubt, he went to the study where his wife and daughter had remained; and without taking another breath, he related to them what he had just done and what the minister had told him as a result. Doña Juana remained like a statue; But Julieta’s eyes sparkled. A few moments later, a heated argument erupted within that family, until then a model of peace and harmony. Don Simón was determined that Arturo would never set foot there again. Julieta, who had learned from a multitude of replies extracted from her father that his conduct was blameworthy only for his desire to show off, protested against such a violent measure; and Doña Juana supported her daughter. Don Simón insisted on his intentions and entrenched his undeniable rights. But Julieta was more difficult to subdue than her father had previously imagined. Beneath that layer of icy disdain, there had always been a fiery heart and an iron will. All that was missing from these elements, in order to be felt in all their powerful force , was something to stimulate them. This stimulus had already left her in Arturo’s memory, in his most gratifying memory. “In the city,” Juliet said to her father, among other things, “all the suitors for my hand seemed unworthy of her, because they were men of little importance; and since none of them interested me, I renounced them without much effort. In Madrid, it seemed that I had found the type of husband who suited me. They introduced him to me, made me know his talent and his beauty; and when he began to interest me, when Perhaps… I love him, he is cast out forever from my side for a crime that is precisely, although in a different form, the cardinal sin of my own family. And now it is expected that with the same ease with which the doors of this house are closed to him, I should close the doors of my heart to him!… This is impossible! Don Simón did not know how to respond to this tirade. He was amazed at his daughter, whom he had never believed to have such determination or such eloquence. As for Doña Juana, he not only applauded her with all his might, but also gave her a tight hug. Then Don Simón understood that his own abilities were not enough to ward off those that were placed before him, and he decided, like bad preachers, to bring out the Christ in order to move people more easily. Thus, he confided to his wife the _secret_ of his fascinating noble title, and immediately asked her, with the most dramatic accent he could muster, if she would think it right to protect his daughter’s loves with such a wasteful thing, when she was about to gird her brows… perhaps with the ducal crown. Don Simón was not deceived as to the effect this argument promised, at least for his wife; for Doña Juana, as if she had received him on the back of her neck, agitated and feverish, began to fulminate violently upon her daughter, because, with her mad love, she wished to discredit her family in the eyes of the illustrious class to which she already considered herself to belong. Seeing such mad intemperance, Julieta, as all reply, looked at her mother with a gesture that gave the exact measure of Doña Juana’s capacity; He cast another glance, no less expressive or more flattering, at his father, and left the study to lock himself in his own, where he silently devoured many angry tears, and perhaps laid the foundations of some rebellious purpose. And since Don Simón did not have much time to waste, he went to his office, with difficulty freeing himself from his wife, who never tired of asking him “hows and whens,” and began to write to the manager of his business, ordering him to release to him, by return mail, all the funds he had available and to tell him what others he could count on and on what dates. He then began to review his speech, which he was to deliver the following day. But how eagerly he rehearsed! Discord had already entered his house, and the man who was to be his panegyrist the next day had just called him “stupid!” to his face, and would probably repeat it to him very soon in print. Oh!… If only he had been able to withdraw his proposal from Congress! If only the devil hadn’t tempted him to present it! If only the commitments of his hierarchical position had allowed him to delay the rupture for a few days!… But there was no way out. The abyss was open, and he had to throw himself into it. Although on the other side awaited him an illustrious parchment, the object of the ambitions of half his life, and the glory of his name in the admiration of the country. Wasn’t space short compared to wings? Chapter 20. And the fierce moment arrived. A secretary read our deputy’s proposal in Congress, and the president immediately said: “The Lord of the Peñascales has the floor to support it.” Never had the aforementioned heard such a horrifying roar as the one these words made in his ears. The proposal, due to its strange wording, had acquired a certain celebrity in Congress, and the speaker was making his debut with it. All this contributed to the deputies, contrary to what Don Simón expected as his only consolation, remaining in their seats. The situation he was in was beyond his strength. And to further undermine it, at the moment of rising to speak, he saw in the press gallery, which was in front of him, his sworn enemy, standing in the foreground, with a pencil in one hand and a piece of paper in the other, staring at him with basilisk eyes . Rather than taking note of the representative’s words, he seemed intent on drawing a caricature of him. The other galleries were full as always. Fortunately, his family had stayed home, not wanting to Juliet, unable to get out of it. Pale as death, and trembling with fear, Don Simón rose from his bench and leaned with both hands on the front of it. He tried to speak, but his voice failed him . He signaled for a glass of water, and while it was being brought to him, he wiped his mouth with his handkerchief; he coughed and did everything else that is customary in cases of such anguish. An usher approached him with two full glasses on a tray. He drank the contents of one without gasping. A little later, he found voice in his throat and said: “Gentlemen…” Another difficulty! He could not be heard. He tried to say it more loudly, and he did so at the top of his lungs. Laughter. He lowered his tone, but did not reach the appropriate one. Thus, he went through all the steps of the scale and did not find the right pitch until the seventh lunge. But he had lost in the process of groping what little serenity he had left. Then he gulped down the second glass of water; and seeing the two empty, the usher placed another tray with three more beside him. _Laughter from the benches and tribunes_. Don Simón then felt his anguish turn to despair. He made a supreme effort and threw himself headlong into the matter, as he might have thrown himself from a balcony into the street, if it had been open to him. So it turned out! In his reckless vertigo, he overturned all the restraints; and seeing things upside down, he asked that a canal be opened for every inhabitant of his province, and that all the highways in that country be exempt from paying taxes , as was just… and contingent, as he intended to demonstrate. But the turmoil of Congress then began to resemble a storm, and the _honorable_ deputy, feeling the ground sink beneath his feet and the roof collapse on his head, suddenly cut the thread of his tangled speech and concluded abruptly. His friend, the Minister of the Interior, immediately stood up on the blue bench to assure the stunned deputy that the Ministry was prepared to support, as soon as possible, the purpose contained in the proposal that had just been supported. But despite this and despite it having been taken into consideration by Congress, Don Simón could not console himself. The chastisement he had just received had been enormous, and he also trembled for the one “the country” would give him if he read his speech as it had been delivered. To see if he could amend it, he later went to the editorial office of the Diario, and there they reassured him a little. Following the established custom, he was told that he could wear whatever he wanted, so he laid out his entire speech on the table, just as Arturo had corrected it when he was still his friend. Of the bad, the least of it. That night he went to bed early and didn’t sleep; but, on the other hand, he sweated profusely. The next day he didn’t have the courage to look through the opposition newspapers. But an irresistible force made him focus on El Ariete. First, he read his speech in the session extract and was amazed to see how beautiful it was. Then he fixed his eyes on the Crónica parlamentaria; and then he was on the verge of dying suddenly when he read, among other things, not at all flattering to him, these lines: “The proposal of Deputy Peñascales, celebrated since yesterday in the parliamentary festivities, is a true monstrosity in form and substance; and it is quite certain that we would not have said about it what we said when announcing it, if we had known it then as we know it now. This same monstrosity makes it very difficult, if not impossible, to present it to the Chamber as the result of a true need of the people, to whose benefit it is directed. For such a colossal undertaking, the strength of even the most skilled tribune is not sufficient. What an impression this would have made on the Cortes, supported by a ridiculous ignoramus, who believes that adding up columns of figures is the same as speaking before the representatives of the country! Let yesterday’s session answer for us. And tell us that we are not sorry for what happened there because of the glory of the _speaker_, who was run there like a hare, because however many his presumptions may be, he should not, in his innate stupidity, aspire to greater triumphs; but because of the prestige of Parliament and the dignity of the Ministry, which took under its wing a matter that crossed the boundaries of the grotesque.” When such things were said about him by a ministerial newspaper, which had recently been putting him on the spot, what would those who, besides being in the opposition, had no reason to show him any respect, say? The poor man never knew to what extent the press of all stripes mistreated him that day. And his luck in ignoring it was no small feat, since the suspicion of it only kept him in bed for three days, strained. When he got up, among the mountain of letters that had piled up on his desk, he found three that deserved his preference. One was from his friends in the city, congratulating him on the _triumph_ obtained in the Cortes for so _brilliantly_ defending the interests of his country. “With this blow,” they told him, among other things, “you have silenced those here who were permitted to murmur about your blind ministerialism, aptly proven by the vote you gave to the Government on the loan issue.” With this incense, Don Simón’s subdued spirit revived, and he immediately began to reply to his friends, thanking them and assuring them that in the upcoming discussion of the budgets, he would demonstrate to his murmurers how slight his allegiance to the Ministry was compared to his love for the country he represented. The second letter was from his attorney. He sent him bills for twenty thousand duros, and placed at his disposal forty thousand more within fifteen days, and another twenty thousand by the end of the month, dates by which the firm had those due dates to collect from the highly creditable A… and B…, and all its current needs were covered. The third letter was from the minister, who informed him, in confidence, that the loan was about to be opened. The situation was difficult for Don Simón. Determined to make a bold move on the loan, the eighty thousand duros he had available seemed like nothing, and, consequently, the twenty thousand at the time seemed like nothing. What were these worth to him, as the principal subscriber, for the offered reward? There were so many bankers who would outbid him three times over! He could buy paper as funds were sent to him; but what if the loan was covered on the first day? Goodbye to his noble title then! He had no choice but to make money at all costs; and the simplest thing seemed to him to draw the amounts from his house, on the dates set by his agent, and negotiate the bills on the Stock Exchange. And so he did. Chapter 21. Don Simón very easily managed to be, not among the first, but the first among the first subscribers, because the loan had few takers. But the Minister did not grant him the offered reward. When the latter opened , the opposition press once again attacked him, overwhelmed; it proved, without much difficulty, that such an operation was the most evident symptom of the bankruptcy that threatened; distrust spread, and the stock dropped ten percent at the first attempt. How was the rest to be placed? And if not everything was placed, how was the Government to know who deserved the titles of nobility and the Grand Crosses? But how well the Ministry was thinking about such trifles! The loan disaster had been followed by another no less serious one for the Ministers. A troupe of governors and a batch of high-ranking officials had become indispensable in those days; and since vacancies were fewer than ministerial deputies, there were disagreements, discord, and disagreements among them, whether due to spite or to a sense of indiscipline; indiscipline spread, and overnight the Government found itself in grave danger of losing half of its troops. Politics then took on that edifying aspect, the delight of free men and the mustard of the system. Lobbying here, meetings there, offers from this side, pleas from that, groups in that corner, voices in this hallway, odd appointments, carriages passing by, people intervening… And meanwhile, the press was talking about the crisis; reporting comings and goings; expected results; feared ends; slaps in the face being given; and honorary affairs being “sorted out.” To top off the complications, the discussion of the budget had begun in Congress —strangely enough!—and the government, which had promised to leave the matter open to its deputies, had no choice but to make the approval of certain chapters a cabinet matter, as the opposition was cutting into its income and the loan wasn’t being covered. It was then that Peñascales lost his composure and threw himself headlong into the turbulent sea of ​​politics. His situation was no small feat. Out of a commitment to his friends and even to his own conscience, he had to vote for anything that would ease the burdens of the overburdened people… And the first battle was precisely about to be fought over the articles that recklessly burdened landed property, which had long been burdened with unbearable taxes. And he was the representative of a rural district! But he had half his fortune committed, perhaps all of it the next day, to a business whose only guarantee was the preservation of the Ministry that had brought him into the business; a Ministry at that time so insecure due to the desertions occurring within its ranks that a single vote more or less could save or lose him. How did he vote with the opposition? He didn’t even hesitate. With body and soul, he dedicated himself, and with greater determination as the fateful day drew near, to preaching peace and harmony among the dissident forces. What a crazy attempt! Those politicians, unlike him, the more they saw a government in a state of collapse, the less interest they regarded it; and as soon as they considered it moribund, as it could no longer offer them anything, they rushed to rally around the men suitable to succeed him in power. When Don Simón had absorbed this now-old parliamentary theory, he went ballistic, and even dared to angrily say to some of the deserters: “But what patriotism is that? Yesterday supporting the Government as best as possible, and today fighting it over a trifle! ” “And what patriotism is yours?” they replied. “Voting against the interests of the people, to save those you have committed to these people!” The retort was hopeless; and Don Simón was already sweating for lack of one when the Minister approached him. Insinuating himself towards him with a discreet tug on his coat, he led him to the darkest corridor, and there he said very quietly: “Cheer up, my friend! Things are going well. Be firm with them, and be careful not to let yourself be seduced by that mob of hungry people!” Your title is already signed, and the loan covered, judging by the latest news transmitted to the Government. And leaving Don Simón even more bewildered than he was, Your Excellency grabbed another deputy and said something that might flatter him; while Peñascales was seized by a dissident, and, painting the country’s situation in vivid colors and offering him towers and piles in the name of his party, he made the Ministry and the ministerial representatives look like dishcloths. And in these dizzying developments, the entire Congress was busy for days; the Ministry prolonging the debate as long as it could to delay the vote until it could win it, or convince itself it had lost it; the press was unleashed, and the administrative centers sat idly by, awaiting the resolution of the imminent crisis that would end with a complete change of personnel; in which case, why add another stroke of the pen? Meanwhile, the death of the Government was inevitable. The deputies who remained loyal to him were so because they had been pleased with the very thing over which the dissidents had been snubbed. How could they attract these and not lose the others, since there wasn’t enough bait for everyone? And the day of the vote moved forward quickly, despite the government’s subterfuges; and the newspapers were hoarsely breaking down the Congress’s factions into figures. According to the most flattering calculations they could make, the ministerial elections, the Government was going to be defeated by three miserable votes! “When will pneumonia and full-blown colic happen?” Don Simón exclaimed in his office upon reading it, without pausing to consider more or less barbarity. Was the Ministry reflecting in this way? Perhaps; but it didn’t show. Nothing was easier for the Ministry than to render half a dozen hostile deputies useless by means of as many arrest warrants, or false telegrams that would keep them away from Madrid on the critical day; but was he sure that by appealing to these extremes, although very parliamentary, but not very good, the opposition wouldn’t exterminate as many auxiliaries, with a beating, for example? There was, therefore, no other remedy than to take events as they presented themselves. And so the fatal day arrived; And although the lobbying and the fervor did not cease for a moment, and Don Simón voted with such anger and such impetus that it drew laughter from the galleries, the Government lost the case; and since it did not have a decree issued by the _royal prerogative_ at hand, it gave itself up for dead and tendered its resignation. Peñascales then, believing he saw an abyss yawning at his feet, fainted amid the jeers of the victorious hosts. Chapter 22. The new Ministry seemed to take pleasure in undoing everything its predecessor had done. They were both from the same family; and it is well known that internal wars are all the more fierce the more closely related the belligerents are. The ministerial newspapers brought to light all the false information about the fallen government, and there was a special emphasis on talking about the four titles of nobility and the two Grand Crosses, and on particularly trolling Don Simón, like a brave bull. With these tendencies of the new Ministry, the loan’s value fell to half its value. Such was the first bitterness Peñascales took upon recovering from the shock that had brought him down in Congress when the government that had _protected_ him fell. The second bitterness was even more bitter. Two days remained until the first drafts he had made on his own account were due, and the paper in which he had invested those funds continued to fall disastrously when he received the following laconic telegram from his agent: “_House A… suspended payments; need funds due the day after tomorrow. Dismay at the plaza_.” This blow was terrible for Don Simón. It will be remembered that the amount that House A… had to hand over to his own company was being used to pay the forty thousand duros drawn by the former. What a disarray his business machinery would suffer, to fill such an enormous void with resources destined for other indispensable attentions! What a series of complications could the bankruptcy of a company as important as the one that had just suspended payments bring! How things would turn out at the end of the month, the time when the other drafts were due! And in the meantime, what was he doing to help his company, with eighty thousand duros invested in a piece of paper that wasn’t worth ten thousand, sold on the spot? Then he truly cursed with all his heart the hour he left his house, and the moment he decided to step into the field of politics and leave the peaceful tasks of his easy business; to exchange the prestige and esteem he enjoyed among the leading men of his country for an illusion of grandeur that, in reality, had only brought him disappointment and was beginning to threaten him with ruin and misery! With his heart unable to contain his fear, nor finding enough air in his lungs within the confines of his office, he went out in search of his family to vent to them at least some of the anguish that was suffocating him; but he didn’t need to travel far, because halfway there he ran into Doña Juana, who was looking for him, pale, with her mouth open, her hands on her neck and her eyes lost. Believing she had learned of the disaster from some private news, he said to her with the greatest dismay: “So you already knew? ” “Just ten minutes ago!” Doña Juana responded, trembling and stammering. “Who told you? ” “No one. ” “That can’t be it. Someone told you… ” “I repeat, no one. Seeing that she didn’t come out of her room at the usual hour, I went there to see if she was ill. I go in, and I can’t find her; I look all over the house, and she’s nowhere to be seen; I call the maid, and she’s not at home either; I return to her study, and see the bed unmade, her wardrobe in disarray, and her little box of jewels emptied. ” “But who are you talking to me about?” cried the unhappy Peñascales, suddenly overcome by a horrible suspicion. “Juliet,” replied Doña Juana with equal astonishment; “Juliet, who must have run away from home last night or very early this morning…. Well , what else were you coming to talk to me about?” Doña Juana received no answer to this question, for her husband fell to the ground like a log, still holding the telegram he was holding. Doña Juana seized it to see if she could find a glimmer of light in such dreadful darkness; and although she did not understand the whole truth from reading the rambling phrases, she feared the worst; and since she was extreme in all things, she collapsed on top of her husband, their bodies forming a single, and not a small, heap on the ground. Shortly after they both regained consciousness, they handed Don Simón a letter, stamped with the inland postage stamp. It was from Julieta, and read: “By the time you receive this, I will have left that house many hours ago, protected by the chosen one of my heart; the same one whom you cast out of it. I am in the house of a person of every respectability, until such time as I am granted the most cordial approval to unite before God with the one who is already the master of my freedom.” If this earnest desire of mine merits a favorable response, send it to me by mail, and I will take care to include it on the list. If you respond with silence, I will avail myself of the right granted to me by law, for I am resolved to do anything, except to renounce a marriage on which I base all the happiness of my life. “I understand the magnitude of the pain that the violent form of my unshakeable resolution will cause you , and I weep for you with all my heart, because the love that your unfortunate daughter, “JULIETA,” professes for you is very great.” Do I need to describe the effect this letter had on the troubled marriage? Surely not. Don Simón and his wife could be as brutal as one would like not to understand the imminence of certain dangers in a character like Julieta’s; but, after all, they were her parents, and they loved her madly. In their eagerness to recover her, they considered bringing the police into play, reporting the incident even to the government, if necessary; but wouldn’t such steps amount to publicizing their own dishonor? It was preferable to proceed in a more stealthy way to find the lost sheep. But once she had returned to the fold, alone, and in the unlikely event that the incident had gotten out, no matter how honorable she had become, would there be many people who would believe it, and among these, even one who would dare to ask for her hand? Even more: would the same man who had stolen her dare grant her his if he realized that the fugitive’s fortune was about to melt like snow in the sun? All these and other similar reflections were immediately entertained by her distressed parents, who finally decided to post a letter in which they “willingly” agreed to Julieta’s wishes, on the condition that she return promptly to her paternal home. Having done this, Don Simón proceeded to sell the loan paper he had and send its paltry value home. Chapter 23. A few days later, the wedding of Julieta and Arturo was celebrated, peace having been made, and both parties having promised the most cordial intimacy for the future. But Don Simón, while appearing affable and pleased at the _festival_, only laughed with his face. His heart was wounded by the sad disappointment that his daughter’s violent resolution had brought him, and by the happier fate that cost him half his fortune. Doña Juana was done A simpleton, who laughed as quickly as she cried. Arturo and Juliet, on the other hand, were completely happy at that moment. But what newlyweds weren’t on their wedding day, and even some afterward? That El Ariete spoke at length about the wedding of the “beautiful Julieta de los Peñascales with our companion, the distinguished writer and diplomat Don Arturo Marañas,” goes without saying, because it’s easily assumed; but, alas! Don Simón wasn’t bothered by that incense: he retained much deeper the tormenting memory of the word “stupid,” with which the same man who perhaps wrote those flattering paragraphs had described him, and he knew by heart those that the same pen had dedicated to his parliamentary disaster. Doña Juana was the one who still took great pride in such things, and she accepted them with enthusiasm, given the effect they would have on the city, for which El Ariete announced the immediate departure of the newlyweds, along with their entire family. Chapter 24. And they did indeed set out; not as the beginning of a long pleasure trip, as the newspaper claimed, but because Don Simón was desperately anxious to return home to learn the true state of his business and, if possible, guard against further disasters. Upon his arrival, he received countless visitors, countless congratulations, and even serenades; but it all felt like a treat to him; for the bankruptcy that had cost him his peak forty thousand had caused other firms, with which his own also had considerable dealings, to waver. The result of such a complicated situation was that he found it very difficult to meet his obligations at the end of the month. He fulfilled them in the end; but not without seeing his fortune diminished by more than two- thirds, and, what was even sadder, his credit compromised. Then he informed his son-in-law of everything that had happened to him. and Arturo, who had set his sights on shining in the broad field of politics at his father-in-law’s expense, found it more convenient, if not more pleasurable, to ask the latter for a lectern at his desk and help him with all his might to raise the edifice that seemed to be crumbling. Don Simón gladly accepted the offer; and since the other was no fool, aided by his personal interest, if not by his natural inclinations, which were quite opposed to commerce, he quickly became a first-rate helper and even became a full-fledged merchant. The last news I had of this esteemed family painted them as on the way to recovering their sunken fortune, but still very far from achieving it; Doña Juana had become a fool with a pearly air; Julieta had two beautiful children; Arturo ran the trading house, and Don Simón had been expelled from the Casino for having uttered, in the middle of the Senate, during one of its most stormy gatherings, these very simple words, legitimate offspring of his disappointments, which cost him so dearly: “The problem is not that, by chance, a good minister, or a great mayor, or a perfect model of society man, comes from a bad tavern keeper; the misfortune of Spain, of the modern world, consists in the fact that all tavern keeper’s want to be ministers, and that the so-called true culture has come to be that of a society in which “caldistas” like myself set the tone. ” 1872. Thus we conclude this fascinating story by José María de Pereda, where ambition, honor, and personal dilemmas are intertwined. Los Hombres de Pro leaves us with a lesson about the true value of men and how their decisions impact not only their lives, but also the society that surrounds them. Thanks for joining us on this literary journey. Don’t forget to subscribe for more classic stories.

Share.

1 Comment

Leave A Reply