"And what does Cristina say to the substitute?"
"When I proposed your name, she was delighted."
I was delighted too, hearing this. I dressed hastily and marched off to make the acquaintance of the new star. The next day we went to church, and I performed my duty with emotion, yes, bursting with pride. Later I took the train for Barcelona, promising my friends to return soon to visit them, and to make the visit permanent by settling my camp in Valencia.
CHAPTER XI.
I THOUGHT this matter over, and my purpose became fixed during my voyage. I found that, although not rich, I had enough to live comfortably on; and when I returned to Barcelona I offered my resignation to the shipping house.
I cannot clearly explain the sentiments whose tumult at that time filled my soul. Confusion reigned therein. Intense love for Cristina, the angelic beauty and innocence of Retamoso's girl, the desire for repose and for a comfortable and tranquil life that all men feel on arriving at a certain state, and the sharp prickings of conscience that questioned my right to obtain it under such conditions, struggled together within me. But there was one sentiment which, however silenced, was stronger than the others—the ardent desire to be near Cristina, to live in her intimate circle, and never to lose sight of her charming face. I held no thoughts against the peace of her heart or the honor of her husband, but only to be happy enjoying her presence all of my life.
In this mind, neither saint-like nor criminal, I took the train for Valencia two months after I had left it. In a train that passed mine in a station on the way, I caught a glimpse, through a window, of the silhouette of Sabas, and near it the red head of a woman who was not Matilde.
"Sabas, Sabas!" I called.
When he saw me, he saluted me affectionately with his hand. The lady who was beside him also smiled cordially; I did not see why, for I did not know her. I remained puzzled. I was doubtful if I had not been mistaken. Was it really Matilde? I was not long in finding out.
I reached Valencia before dark. After leaving my things at the inn, I hired a conveyance to take me out to Cabañal, where I knew that Martí was now installed. I was anxious to consult with him about my plans. As I drew near the country house I felt my heart beating violently. This roused anew my sentiment of honor. "Are we like this?" I said to myself scornfully. "While thinking of binding yourself by a sacred fetter, of offering yourself to an innocent young girl, you cannot control your impulses! You are going to press the hand of a friend, to make him your confidant, your kinsman, while still your spirit is not cleansed of traitorous thoughts!"