The saint had just performed one of his miracles, in the person of the lucky archæologist, by getting up for him a nice little salary as librarian to the Legislature; and his face expressed the most profound terror. If Pimentel should hear that wild talk and attribute it to him! In spite of the customary somnambulistic condition of library mice, Viñal sharpened his ears, perceiving the terrible risk his blessed three hundred a year were exposed to.
“Salustio,” he said to me, in anguish, “make that silly fellow stop talking. He is drawing attention to us. Stop him, for pity’s sake.”
The highly excited state of my nerves induced me to go contrary to the wishes of the peace-loving scholar. I also felt inclined to sour and pessimistic censure. What irritated me was my uncle’s aspect, overflowing with satisfaction, while he paid more attention to Pimentel than to his bride, and even gave a toast dedicating the banquet to the protector of his disgraceful schemes.
“Cringing people,” I thought, “if you want to worship any one, bow down all you like before Father Moreno, who represents the sacrifice of a life on the altar of an idea; bow down before that bride who is the personification of virtue and duty; but as for doing it before him whose only merit consists in distributing pap!—I also am disposed to give vent to my feelings. Serafín is not far out of the way.”
Not knowing how to relieve my impatience, and without paying the slightest attention to Viñal, who was pulling at my sleeve, I improved the first opportunity to contradict Pimentel. I think it was about Pi and his Utopias—and the things that were feasible or not feasible. It caused a great sensation when they heard me dare to raise my voice in such an inconsiderate manner, and my uncle looked at me with an expression which redoubled my ardor.
“You say the Republic is not feasible here? And why not, I want to know? We cannot possibly prolong the abject state of anarchy in which we now live. We are suffering from the drawbacks of a monarchy, and, nevertheless, do not enjoy its advantages. There is no cohesion, no unity, while political customs have deteriorated so greatly that nowadays the public man who aspires to set an example of morality appears ridiculous, and he who holds any opinions of his own likewise.”
Pimentel turned toward me, replying with calm courtesy:
“What you desire and what we all desire, in fact, might answer for other races—oh, yes, for northern races; but here, with the Arab blood in our veins, and our everlasting rebelliousness—oh, it would be impossible, utterly impossible!”
Nobody was a more ardent defender of civil rights than he; his sacrifices were well known to all (they bowed assent), “but let us not confound, gentlemen, let us not confound anarchy and license with a just, reasonable, and feasible liberty. The northern countries produce statesmen because the masses are already educated for political freedom; it comes to them through hereditary transmission, if one may so say—it is hereditary. If you don’t believe it, just look at the theories of Thiers—English public opinion——”
I, not knowing how to extricate myself, caught hold of Thiers like a drowning man catching at a straw.