The Joy of Captain Ribot

by Armando Palacio Valdés

"I am enchanted with the rude frankness of you sailors! That is just the way to speak! Away with these conventional lies that deceive nobody and simply serve to show what actors we are. The main thing is that we have you here and that your visit gives us genuine pleasure."

Then turning to the company he added, not without a certain emphasis:

"Señores, I present you to the captain of the Urano. I have nothing more to say."

An extraordinarily lean young man approached to give me his hand. His skin was rough and weather-marked, as if he had come from long and painful labors in the sun. He was prematurely bald, and from his mouth there depended an enormous pipe stuffed with tobacco. He was dressed with elegance, though a little carelessly.

"My brother-in-law, Sabas."

He was followed by a person of about the age of Martí, more or less, tall rather than short, blonde, his mustache small and silky, his skin flaccid, most carefully shaven. He was likewise fashionably dressed, and with a care that contrasted with the negligence of the other.

"My intimate friend and partner, Don Enrique Castell."

These were the only men present. I was next taken before Doña Amparo, who was working at her crochet, seated in a crimson-velvet chair; I was then presented to the wife of his brother-in-law, a plump little woman, round-faced, blonde, and blue-eyed, sitting on a divan and at work with an embroidery frame on her lap. Beside her was a young girl of seventeen years whose face of admirable correctness, soft and ivory-like, had the same expression of timid innocence as the virgins of Murillo. She was the daughter of a white-haired lady with an aquiline nose and severe and imposing physiognomy, seated beside a gilded table with a newspaper in her hands. Martí presented me to her as his Aunt Clara, a cousin of his mother-in-law.

The entire company welcomed me most kindly, particularly Doña Amparo, who with tearful eyes seized both my hands, retaining them until the excess of her emotion obliged her to drop them in order to raise her handkerchief to her eyes. The conversation first turned upon the mishap of that lady. My conduct was eulogized to a degree that put me to shame and made me uneasy, and they discussed the causes of the accident. The brother-in-law of Martí, with voice cavernous and husky, perhaps from abuse of tobacco, bitterly censured the conduct of the authorities of Gijon for not having properly lighted the wharf. I replied that almost all wharves were lighted in the same way, since they were not intended for purposes of public pleasure but for the loading and unloading of merchandise. He insisted upon his position, showing that in all maritime cities the wharves are places of recreation. I replied that in that case people must look out for themselves. Martí cut short the dispute by asking me to what hotel I had gone, that he might send for my luggage. In vain I opposed his doing so. Seeing that he felt hurt by my refusal I gave way at last, all the more since the entire family joined in urging me.

In the meantime Cristina played the piano with careless fingers, talking all the while with her sister-in-law. She was elegantly dressed in a loose crimson gown beneath whose folds were revealed the lines of coming maternity. Whenever I could I gazed at her with intense attention. And when she observed it she seemed restless and nervous, and took pains that her eyes should not meet mine. Martí went out to give some orders about my chamber. His friend and partner, who had kept silent, reclining negligently in an easy-chair with legs crossed, began to ask me various questions about my voyages, the fleet of steamers, the ports where we touched, and everything relating to the commerce in which the ships of our line were engaged. The talk acquired the character of an examination, for Castell showed that he knew as much as I did, or more, about such things. He had travelled much, knew two or three languages perfectly, and on his travels had not only gained knowledge useful in commercial affairs but a multitude of ethnographic, historical, and artistic facts that I was far from possessing. He was a really accomplished man, but I could not help noting that he was fond of exhibiting his learning, that he carefully rounded his periods in his talk and listened to himself, and that, without lacking in courtesy, he did not conceal his slight appreciation of the opinions of others. On the whole the man was not congenial to me, although I recognized his excellent qualities. He had a voice clear and mellow like a preacher, with grave and noble gestures that enabled him to display his hand, which was short and beautiful, and ornamented with rings.