“When I can do any thing for you, Don, you may depend upon me; and not a word shall ever pass my lips till you request it.”
“I don’t know but you will think I am laying out the plot of a novel, like the story of Giulia Fabiano, whom O’Hara assisted to a happy conclusion,” replied Raimundo, with a smile. “I couldn’t help thinking of my own case when her history was related to me; for, so far, the situations are very much the same.”
“I have seen all I want to of the outside of Barcelona; and if you like, we will go down into the cabin where we shall be alone for the present,” suggested Scott.
“That will suit me better,” answered Raimundo, as he followed his companion.
“We shall be out of hearing of everybody here, I think,” said Scott, as he seated himself in the after-part of the cabin.
“There is not much romance in the story yet; and I don’t know that there ever will be,” continued the Spaniard. “It is a family difficulty; and such things are never pleasant to me, however romantic they may be.”
“Well, Don, I don’t want you to tell the story for my sake; and don’t harrow up your feelings to gratify my curiosity,” protested Scott.
“I shall want your advice, and perhaps your assistance; and for this reason only I shall tell you all about it. Here goes. My grandfather was a Spanish merchant of the city of Barcelona; and when he was fifty years old he had made a fortune of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, which is a big pile of money in Spain. He had three sons, and a strong weakness, as our friend O’Hara would express it. I suppose you know something about the grandees of Spain, Scott?”
“Not a thing,” replied the third lieutenant candidly. “I have heard the word, and I know they are the nobles of Spain; and that’s all I know.”
“That’s about all any ordinary outsider would be expected to know about them. There is altogether too much nobility and too little money in Spain. Some of the grandees are still very rich and powerful; but physically and financially the majority of them are played out. I am sorry to say it, but laziness is a national peculiarity: I am a Spaniard, and I will not call it by any hard names. Pride and vanity go with it. There are plenty of poor men who are too proud to work, or to engage in business of any kind. Of course such men do not get on very well; and, the longer they live, the poorer they grow. This is especially the case with the played-out nobility.