The Grandee

by Armando Palacio Valdés

These words were uttered with a look at the corner, where Emilita and the captain were sitting. The latter took the remark and became serious, and the girl tried to look unconscious although grateful in her heart to Paco for giving the hint; whilst the Pensioner twisted his moustache with a trembling hand, fearing that Nuñez would take offence, but glad with the hope that these opportune allusions would bring him to the point.

Tired of conversation, the young people proposed a game of forfeits. It is a game which wide-awake men always turn to their own advantage.

Fernanda let Garnet sit by her side. She was vexed at the winks and signs of Paco that she had noticed. She was a very proud creature, but she prided herself on her sense of justice. She could not bear anybody to be made fun of in her presence, even if it were the lowest, most insignificant being. Maybe the sense of pride, which was one of her tenderest and most touchy points, made her alive to the wounds inflicted on that of others. Although she hated Garnet, she was sorry to see him made an object of derision, particularly as she was the cause; but this did not prevent her treating him with overbearing airs herself; but it is thought, and not without reason, that although the rebuffs of the lady one loves may inflict misery, they do not sting like practical jokes. The Indian, seeing himself so honoured, was beside himself with delight, and set to overwhelming her as usual with a thousand attentions. Fernanda accepted them with a grave demeanour, but not with repugnance. Then came as usual that game of "three times yes, and three times no," the favourite of all present. Thus Society amused itself with what had entertained its fathers and grandfathers, and with what they thought would amuse their children. Innocent people! There was one spirit there to whom this attribute did not apply. Paco played with the peevish condescension, of a man in advance of his time, making many stupid mistakes, which showed the inattention characteristic of superior beings. Nuñez, on the contrary, was all there. Never was a man more at home in such matters, nor one who entered into them more thoroughly. His bright intelligence had penetrated all the secrets of the game of forfeits, and he knew how to get the best out of everybody according to the circumstances in question. For example, when a young lady had to whisper to him, he instantly became deaf, and the girl was obliged to bend more and more until her ruddy lips brushed the ear of the captain. If he were condemned to represent the paper corner of the Puerta del Sol and consequently had to have pieces of paper stuck on his face, &c. &c., the wily Nuñez did not guess who it was doing it until he had passed his hands over the girl.

But he gave the clearest demonstration of his portentous talent and the vast knowledge he had acquired in this department of science, when he proposed that the señorita, to whom he would tell what she had in her pocket, would have to kiss him. The young ladies were all so sure that he would not be successful that they willingly accepted the condition. He was certainly wrong in his attempt at guessing the contents of the pocket of Carmelita, wrong again with Fernanda, with Maria Josefa, with Micaela, but see, what a sly rogue! he knew exactly what was in Emilita's: some scissors, a handkerchief, a thimble, and three caramels. The girl began to groan and clasp her hands in a state of nervous collapse. "It was a trap! a trap!" The captain serene, unperturbed, and dignified as some hero of antiquity, refuted the imputation, and proved to satiety that there was no question of a trap. "I do not say," he added with a Mephistophelian smile, "but what it was an understood thing between us, as I was allowed to see beforehand what her pocket contained."

The girl then became still more emphatic in her protestations against this statement, and she became agitated to an incomprehensible degree, and ran to the opposite end of the room, as far as possible from the captain, as if he were going to take by force what he had a right to. Those on her side were the women, whilst the men took the part of the captain. The drawing-room was then transformed into a perfect pandemonium. They all talked, laughed, and screamed without coming to any understanding. But, as is easily supposed, the one who screamed and gesticulated the most, was the girl concerned. Nevertheless, Don Cristobal, seeing there were no signs of coming to an understanding and wishing to countenance his daughter's course of action, intervened in the dispute like a majestic god extending his right hand to calm the waves of the stormy sea.

"Emilita," he said in a tone of command, "play is play; give a kiss to this gentleman."

It is noticeable that he did not say to "the captain," nor "to this señor officer." His lips still revolted at using a term exclusively military.

"But papa!" exclaimed the younger daughter, red as a poppy.

"It must be done!" he returned, with his extended right hand in the most commanding attitude that could be assumed by such a godlike pensioner.

There was no help for it. Emilita, confused and ashamed, with her cheeks like two fires, advanced with a hesitating step to the brave captain of Pontevedra, who was sharp enough to bring his lips to play upon the brilliant colouring of her face.