PAGE 5
The Guadalquivir, by Anthony Trollope
by
“You’ll upset him if you don’t take care,” said Johnson; for I had got fast hold of him by one ankle, and was determined to finish the survey completely.
“Oh, no, I shan’t,” said I; “a bull-fighting chap can surely stand on one leg. But what I wonder at is, how on earth he can afford it!” Whereupon Johnson again began to interrogate him in Spanish.
“He says he has got no children,” said Johnson, having received a reply, “and that as he has nobody but himself to look after, he is able to allow himself such little luxuries.”
“Tell him that I say he would be better with a wife and couple of babies,” said I–and Johnson interpreted.
“He says that he’ll think of it some of these days, when he finds that the supply of fools in the world is becoming short,” said Johnson.
We had nearly done with him now; but after regaining my feet, I addressed myself once more to the heavy pendules, which hung down almost under his arm. I lifted one of these, meaning to feel its weight between my fingers; but unfortunately I gave a lurch, probably through the motion of the boat, and still holding by the button, tore it almost off from our friend’s coat.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” I said, in broad English.
“It do not matter at all,” he said, bowing, and speaking with equal plainness. And then, taking a knife from his pocket, he cut the pendule off, leaving a bit of torn cloth on the side of his jacket.
“Upon my word, I am quite unhappy,” said I; “but I always am so awkward.” Whereupon he bowed low.
“Couldn’t I make it right?” said I, bringing out my purse.
He lifted his hand, and I saw that it was small and white; he lifted it and gently put it upon my purse, smiling sweetly as he did so. “Thank you, no, senor; thank you, no.” And then, bowing to us both, he walked away down into the cabin.
“Upon my word he is a deuced well-mannered fellow,” said I.
“You shouldn’t have offered him money,” said Johnson; “a Spaniard does not like it.”
“Why, I thought you could do nothing without money in this country. Doesn’t every one take bribes?”
“Ah! yes; that is a different thing; but not the price of a button. By Jove! he understood English, too. Did you see that?”
“Yes; and I called him an ass! I hope he doesn’t mind it.”
“Oh! no; he won’t think anything about it,” said Johnson. “That sort of fellows don’t. I dare say we shall see him in the bull-ring next Sunday, and then we’ll make all right with a glass of lemonade.”
And so our adventure ended with the man of the gold ornaments. I was sorry that I had spoken English before him so heedlessly, and resolved that I would never be guilty of such gaucherie again. But, then, who would think that a Spanish bull-fighter would talk a foreign language? I was sorry, also, that I had torn his coat; it had looked so awkward; and sorry again that I had offered the man money. Altogether I was a little ashamed of myself; but I had too much to look forward to at Seville to allow any heaviness to remain long at my heart; and before I had arrived at the marvellous city I had forgotten both him and his buttons.
Nothing could be nicer than the way in which I was welcomed at Mr. Daguilar’s house, or more kind–I may almost say affectionate–than Maria’s manner to me. But it was too affectionate; and I am not sure that I should not have liked my reception better had she been more diffident in her tone, and less inclined to greet me with open warmth. As it was, she again gave me her cheek to kiss, in her father’s presence, and called me dear John, and asked me specially after some rabbits which I had kept at home merely for a younger sister; and then it seemed as though she were in no way embarrassed by the peculiar circumstances of our position. Twelve months since I had asked her to be my wife, and now she was to give me an answer; and yet she was as assured in her gait, and as serenely joyous in her tone, as though I were a brother just returned from college. It could not be that she meant to refuse me, or she would not smile on me and be so loving; but I could almost have found it in my heart to wish that she would. “It is quite possible,” said I to myself, “that I may not be found so ready for this family bargain. A love that is to be had like a bale of goods is not exactly the love to suit my taste.” But then, when I met her again in the morning I could no more have quarrelled with her than I could have flown.