And he would explain with railing verve what Don Vincente Ribiera stood for—a mournful little man oppressed by his own good intentions, the significance of battles won, who Montero was ( un grotesque vaniteux et feroce ), and the manner of the new loan connected with railway development, and the colonization of vast tracts of land in one great financial scheme.
And his French friends would remark that evidently this little fellow Decoud connaissait la question a fond. An important Parisian review asked him for an article on the situation. It was composed in a serious tone and in a spirit of levity. Afterwards he asked one of his intimates—
“Have you read my thing about the regeneration of Costaguana— une bonne blague, hein?”
He imagined himself Parisian to the tips of his fingers. But far from being that he was in danger of remaining a sort of nondescript dilettante all his life. He had pushed the habit of universal raillery to a point where it blinded him to the genuine impulses of his own nature. To be suddenly selected for the executive member of the patriotic small-arms committee of Sulaco seemed to him the height of the unexpected, one of those fantastic moves of which only his “dear countrymen” were capable.
“It's like a tile falling on my head. I—I—executive member! It's the first I hear of it! What do I know of military rifles? C'est funambulesque! ” he had exclaimed to his favourite sister; for the Decoud family—except the old father and mother—used the French language amongst themselves. “And you should see the explanatory and confidential letter! Eight pages of it—no less!”
This letter, in Antonia's handwriting, was signed by Don Jose, who appealed to the “young and gifted Costaguanero” on public grounds, and privately opened his heart to his talented god-son, a man of wealth and leisure, with wide relations, and by his parentage and bringing-up worthy of all confidence.
“Which means,” Martin commented, cynically, to his sister, “that I am not likely to misappropriate the funds, or go blabbing to our Charge d'Affaires here.”
The whole thing was being carried out behind the back of the War Minister, Montero, a mistrusted member of the Ribiera Government, but difficult to get rid of at once. He was not to know anything of it till the troops under Barrios's command had the new rifle in their hands. The President-Dictator, whose position was very difficult, was alone in the secret.
“How funny!” commented Martin's sister and confidante; to which the brother, with an air of best Parisian blague, had retorted:
“It's immense! The idea of that Chief of the State engaged, with the help of private citizens, in digging a mine under his own indispensable War Minister. No! We are unapproachable!” And he laughed immoderately.