“Of course I shall say no, for my own sake. I am too well pleased with Esclavita to wish to part with her.”
Rogelio had been listening in silence to the dispute between Nuña Rasura and Lain Calvo. He was inclined to share the indulgent views of his mother and the ex-president of the court. With all this, however, he was at times tempted to believe that the spiteful Asturian knew more about life and was a better judge of human nature than they. By an illusion common to the inexperienced, cynicism and pessimism seemed to him the highest expression of human knowledge. His own inclination to think well of everybody must be the result, he thought, of his youth and inexperience. “Any one can throw dust in my eyes,” he said to himself. “I am a child, but I am determined not to remain one forever.”
XI.
Esclavita was crossing the hall when she heard her young master’s voice calling her:
“Esclavita!”
“I am coming.”
“Come quickly! Your presence is required to relieve me from an appalling situation.”
The girl entered the student’s room and found him standing in his shirt sleeves in the middle of the floor, his waist-coat in one hand while the other was tightly clasped, as if it held some precious object.
“A moment ago,” he cried tragically, opening his hand, in which was a small mother-of-pearl button, “this precious button flew with lightning-like swiftness from my collar. Can you secure it in its place again without inflicting with the murderous steel a mortal wound upon my throat?”
Esclavita smiled, and, putting her hand into her pocket, took out her needle-case, spool, and thimble. This latter was open at both ends, like the thimbles used by the peasantry. She put it on quickly, with equal quickness threaded her needle, knotted the thread, and took between her thumb and forefinger the little pearl button. She pulled out the threads where the button had come off, set the button in its place, and inserted the needle. Here began the difficulties of the undertaking. It was impossible to draw the needle straight through without pricking the young man’s chin, smooth and clean as a woman’s. He pretended to be making desperate efforts to assist in the operation, accompanying them by comical grimaces and cries of, “Help! She is severing my carotid artery! she is piercing my jugular vein! she is performing the dangerous operation of tracheotomy upon me without my having the croup!” And the girl, smiling, but undisturbed, would say, “Hold your head up a little—take care, now—there, that will do; I will soon be through.” At last, with a triumphant gesture, she twisted the thread around the button to form the stem, fastened it by a stitch or two, and then broke it off.