Maximina Part 4

Don Nazario--for that was his name--opened his eyes in sudden terror, drained the cup that was offered him, and immediately fell into another doze.

It was really time for them all to do the same. So Miguel drew the shade of the lamp, and so "that the light might not trouble their eyes," he also doubled around it a folded newspaper. Thus the car was made dark; only the pale starlight gleamed in through the windows.

It was a clear, cold January night, such as are peculiar to the plains of Castille. Each pa.s.senger got into the most comfortable position possible, snuggling down into the corners. Rivera said to his wife:--

"Lean your head on my shoulder. I cannot sleep in the train."

The girl did as she was bidden, in spite of herself; she was afraid of incommoding him.

All was quiet. Miguel managed to get hold of one of her hands, and gently caressed it. After a while, leaning his head over and touching his lips to his wife's brow, he whispered very softly:--

"Maximina, I adore you," and then he repeated the words with even more emotion, "_Te adoro, te adoro!_"

The girl did not reply; but feigned to be asleep. Miguel asked with persuasive voice:--

"Do you love me? Do you?"

The same immobility.

"Tell me! do you love me?"

Then Maximina, without opening her eyes, made a slight sign of a.s.sent, and added:--

"I am very sleepy."

Miguel, perceiving the trembling of her hands, smiled, and said:--

"Then go to sleep, darling."

And now nothing was to be heard in the compartment, except Don Nazario's snoring, in which he was a specialist. He usually began to snore in a deliberate and solemn manner, in decided, full pulsations; gradually it increased in energy, the periods became shorter and more energetic, and at the same time a sort of guttural note was introduced, which was scarcely perceptible at first; from the nostrils the voice descended into the gullet, rising and falling alternately for a long time. But, when least expected, within that apparently invariable rhythm, would be heard a sharp and shrill whistle, like the bugle blast of an on-coming tempest. And, in fact, the whistle would find an answer in a deep and ominous rumble, and then another still louder, and then another; ...

then the whistling would be repeated in a more terrific fas.h.i.+on, and that would be drowned in a confused murmur of discordant notes fit to inspire the soul with terror. And this conflict of sounds would go on increasing and increasing, until at last, some way or other, it would be suddenly changed into an asthmatic and blatant cough. Then Don Nazario would heave a deep sigh, rest a few short moments, and continue his reverberant oration in measured and dignified tone.

Miguel dozed with his eyes open. His imagination was thronged tumultuously by radiant visions, a thousand foregleams of happiness: life presented itself in sweet and lovely aspect before him, such as it had never hitherto a.s.sumed. He had amused himself, he had enjoyed the pleasures of the world; but ever behind them, and sometimes in the midst of them, he perceived the bitter residuum, the wake of weariness and pain which the demon of pa.s.sion traces across the lives of his wors.h.i.+ppers. What a difference now! His heart told him: "Thou hast done well! thou wilt be happy!" And his intellect, weighing carefully and comparing the value of what he had left behind with what he had chosen, likewise gave him its approval.

For a long time he remained awake, feeling the weight of his wife's head resting on his shoulder. From time to time he looked down at her, and though he saw that her eyes were shut, he was inclined to think that she was not asleep.

Finally sleep overcame him. When he opened his eyes, the compartment was already full of the early morning light. He looked at his wife, and saw that she was wide awake.

"Maximina," said he, in a low voice, so as not to disturb the others, "have you been awake long?"

"No; only a little while," said the girl, sitting up.

"And why didn't you sit up?"

"Because I was afraid of disturbing you if I moved."

"But how much I would rather have had you wake me! Don't you know that I have been wanting to talk with you?"

And the young couple began to converse in such low voices that they divined rather than heard each other's words; all the time, the Cuervo sisters, their brother, and Juana were sleeping in various and original positions. What did they talk about? They themselves did not know: words have a conventional value, and all of theirs, without a single exception, expressed the same idea.

Miguel, cautious of speaking about themselves, because he noticed that it embarra.s.sed Maximina, turned the conversation to some pleasing subject and tried to make her laugh, so that her natural bashfulness might wear away. Nevertheless, he took the risk of once asking her, with a keen glance:--

"Are you happy?"

"Yes."

"Aren't you sorry that you are mine?"

"Oh, no! If you only knew!..."

"Knew what?"

"Nothing, nothing!"

"Yes; you were going to say something: tell me!"

"It was nonsense."

"Tell me, then! I have the right now to know even the most trifling thing that pa.s.ses through your mind."

He was obliged to insist long and tenderly before he succeeded in finding out.

"Come now; whisper it in my ear."

And he adroitly led her on. Finally Maximina whispered:--

"I had a very miserable night, Friday."

"Why?"

"After you told me that you still had time to leave me, I could not think of anything else. I imagined that you said it with a peculiar meaning. I kept walking up and down the room all night. _Ay madre mia!_ how it made me feel! I was up before any one else in the house, and I tiptoed in my bare feet to your room: then I laid my ear to the key-hole to see if I could hear you breathing; but nothing! What a feeling of dismay I had! When the maid got up, I asked her with a real sense of dread if you had been called. She told me 'Yes,' and I drew a long breath. But still I was not entirely myself: I was afraid that when the cure asked if you loved me, you would say 'No.' When I heard you say 'Yes,' my heart gave a bound of joy, and I said to myself, 'Now you are mine!'"

"And indeed I am!" exclaimed the young man, kissing her forehead.

The train was now rolling along across the plains near Madrid. The Senoritas de Cuervo awoke; the daylight was not very flattering to their natural beauties, but a series of delicate manipulations which gave convincing proof of their artistic apt.i.tude, quickly worked a change.

From a great Russia-leather dressing-case they took out combs, brushes, pomade, hairpins, rice powder, and a rouge pot, and amid a thousand affectionate words and infantile caresses, they proceeded to arrange and retouch each other's toilettes with the most scrupulous care.

"Come, child, stand still!... If you aren't careful, I shall pinch you.... Mercy, what a naughty girl you are!"

"I am nervous, Lola, I am nervous!"

"Everybody knows that you are going to see _somebody_ very soon, and I am not going to tell."

"What a goose you are! Rivera will be sure to believe you!"

Maximina, with her eyes opened wide, looked in amazement at this improvised toilette. The De Cuervos begged her to follow their example, and then she suddenly awoke from her stupor, and thanked them with embarra.s.sment.

Our travellers found _la brigadiera_ Angela[5] and Julia waiting for them at the station. The latter hugged and kissed her sister-in-law again and again; the former offered her hand, and also kissed her on the forehead.