“And the woman?”—Rimânez demanded, his eyes twinkling.
“The woman has really no right of choice”—I responded,—for this was my pet argument and I took pleasure in setting it forth—“She must mate wherever she has the chance of being properly maintained. A man is always a man,—a woman is only a man’s appendage, and without beauty she cannot put forth any just claim to his admiration or his support.”
“Right!—very right, and logically argued!”—he exclaimed, becoming preternaturally serious in a moment—“I myself have no sympathy with the new ideas that are in vogue concerning the intellectuality of woman. She is simply the female of man,—she has no real soul save that which is a reflex of his, and being destitute of logic, she is incapable of forming a correct opinion on any subject. All the imposture of religion is kept up by this unmathematical hysterical [p 40] creature,—and it is curious, considering how inferior a being she is, what mischief she has contrived to make in the world, upsetting the plans of the wisest kings and counsellors, who as mere men, should undoubtedly have mastered her! And in the present age she is becoming more than ever unmanageable.”
“It is only a passing phase”—I returned carelessly—“A fad got up by a few unloved and unlovable types of the feminine sex. I care very little for women—I doubt whether I shall ever marry.”
“Well you have plenty of time to consider, and amuse yourself with the fair ones, en passant”—he said watching me narrowly—“And in the meantime I can take you round the different marriage-markets of the world if you choose, though the largest one of them all is of course this very metropolis. Splendid bargains to be had, my dear friend!—wonderful blonde and brunette specimens going really very cheap. We’ll examine them at our leisure. I’m glad you have yourself decided that we are to be comrades,—for I am proud;—I may say damnably proud;—and never stay in any man’s company when he expresses the slightest wish to be rid of me. Good-night!”
“Good-night!” I responded. We clasped hands again and they were still interlocked, when a sudden flash of lightning blazed vividly across the room, followed instantaneously by a terrific clap of thunder. The electric lights went out, and only the glow of the fire illumined our faces. I was a little startled and confused,—the prince stood still, quite unconcerned, his eyes shining like those of a cat in the darkness.
“What a storm!” he remarked lightly—“Such thunder in winter is rather unusual. Amiel!”
The valet entered, his sinister countenance resembling a white mask made visible in the gloom.
“These lamps have gone out,”—said his master—“It’s very odd that civilized humanity has not yet learned the complete management of the electric light. Can you put them in order, Amiel?” [p 41]
“Yes, your excellency.” And in a few moments, by some dexterous manipulation which I did not understand and could not see, the crystal-cased jets shone forth again with renewed brilliancy. Another peal of thunder crashed overhead, followed by a downpour of rain.
“Really remarkable weather for January,”—said Rimânez, again giving me his hand—“Good-night my friend! Sleep well.”