Marianela 22

Marianela 22

"I will never go there again.--All is over and done.--Of what use can I

be now?"

 

With all her ignorance she understood that the struggle in her soul

arose from her incapacity to hate any one; on the contrary, she

was constrained to love her friend and her enemy alike, and just

as thistles turned into flowers under the miraculous touch of some

Christian martyr, Nela perceived that her jealousy and aversion were

graciously blossoming into admiration and gratitude. That which could

undergo no change was the feeling we have described as self-conscious

shame, and which urged her to keep herself quite apart from any events

which might henceforth occur in Aldeacorba. It was a special aspect of

the sentiment which in civilized and educated persons is called _amour

propre_, which includes in itself the capacity for self-depreciation.

The connection, however, between her feeling and that which has so

large a share in the actions of cultivated persons, consisted in the

fact that both were founded on a punctilious sense of dignity. If

Marianela could have expressed herself in their language she would have

said:

 

"My dignity will not allow me to submit to the horrible degradation

you would put upon me. It is God's will that I should endure this

humiliation--so be it; but I cannot stand by and see myself deposed and

discrowned. May his blessings fall on the head of her who, by a law of

nature, must fill the place I once occupied--but I have not the courage

to put her there with my own hands."

 

But not being able to utter her pain in these words, she could only

say: "I will never go to Aldeacorba again--I will never let him see me.

I will run away with Celipin, or I will go to my mother. I am of no use

now to any one."

 

Still, even while she said this, it struck her as very sad that she

should have to give up the divine protection of that Heavenly Maiden

who had appeared to her in the darkest hour of her life, and cast her

sheltering mantle over her! To think that after seeing the vision

realized which had so often appeared to her in dreams of thrilling

beatitude, she must renounce it--to have heard herself called by a

gentle voice, that offered her a sister's love, a happy home, position,

a name, and a luxurious existence--and then be unable to obey the

invitation with joy, alacrity and thankfulness--to reject the hand

which would snatch her from a life of degradation and misery, and

make a lady of the wretched vagabond, raising her from the rank of a

domestic animal to that of a loved and respected woman!...

 

"Woe, woe!" she cried, clutching her bosom as if her fingers were

talons: "I cannot, never, never.... Nothing in the world shall ever

take me to Aldeacorba! Virgin, mother of my soul, take me, take me....

Mother, will you not come and fetch me!"

 

As night came on, she went home; on her way she met Celipin with a

stick in his hand and his cap hung on the end of it.

 

"Look here, Nelilla," said the boy: "Is not this how Don Teodoro

carries his hat? Just now I was passing the pool at Hinojales and

I looked at my reflection in the water. My! was not I surprised--I

thought I looked just like Don Teodoro Golfin. Some day this week we

will set out to become learned and useful persons. I have got as much

money now as I want, and you will see, no one will dare to laugh at

Señor de Celipin."

 

For three days Nela kept out of the way, wandering about the

neighborhood of the mines, following the course of the river along its

rugged banks, or hiding herself in the quiet recesses of the wood of

Saldeoro. The nights she spent in her basket, but she could not sleep.

One night she timidly called her companion:

 

"Celipin--when?" and Celipin replied with all the solemnity befitting a

regular expedition:

 

"To-morrow."

 

The two adventurers rose at day-break, and both went their way; Celipin

to his work, and Nela to carry a message from Señana to the engineer's

housekeeper. On her return she found Señorita Florentina, who was

waiting for her at Centeno's house. María was surprised and alarmed at

seeing her, though her instinct told her of the end and object of this

visit.

 

"Nela, my little sister," said the girl with engaging gentleness: "Why

are you behaving so strangely? Why have you not been near us all these

days? Come, Pablo wishes to see you. Do you not know that now he can

say: 'I want to see this thing or the other?' Do you not know that my

cousin is no longer blind?"

 

"Yes--I know it," said Nela, taking the hand Florentina held out to her

and covering it with kisses.

 

"Come along then; come at once. He is always asking for 'Señora Nela.'

And to-day you must be there when Don Teodoro takes the bandage off--it

is the fourth time. Oh! the first day--when he first tried it! What a

day that was! When we knew for certain that my cousin was born again,

as I may say, to the light of day--we almost died of joy.--And the

first face he saw was mine.--Come along, quickly." But María drew her

hand out of her Virgin's clasp.

 

"Have you forgotten my promise, my vow?" Florentina went on, "or did

you think I was talking at random? But indeed, nothing I can do seems

enough to show our Mother of Mercies my gratitude for the grace she

has shown us. I should like that, on this day, not a creature that

the whole world contains should be sad. I should like to divide my

happiness, and fling it abroad on all sides, as the sower casts the

seed; I should like to go into every wretched dwelling and say: 'All

your troubles are ended. I have a remedy for them all.'--But it is

impossible; no one can do that but God. Still, as my powers are not

equal to my will, let me at any rate do what I can--and these are not

mere words, Nela. Come with me, away from this hovel; bid farewell to

everything that has made part of your misery and your loneliness. For

you may have an affection, even for your wretchedness, my child."

 

Marianela did not, however, say good-bye to anything; and as none

of the family were indoors at that hour, she did not wait for them.

Florentina went out, leading by the hand the poor little girl whom her

noble impulses and christian feeling had adopted to be her equal; and

Nela allowed herself to be led, from sheer incapacity to offer any

resistance. She felt as though some superhuman power had taken her in

hand and was carrying her along, fatally and inevitably, as the angels

bear a soul away to Heaven.

 

They took the path by Hinojales, where the vagabond child had seen

Florentina for the first time. As they turned into the lane the young

lady said to her companion.

 

"Why have you not been to the house? My uncle says that you have so

much natural modesty and delicacy that it is a pity you should not have

been educated. Was it delicacy that kept you from coming to ask for

what, by God's mercy, you had so happily gained? Without doubt my uncle

is right.... You should have seen the poor dear man that day--he said

he should not be sorry to die!--Do you see? My eyes are still red with

crying so much. And last night my uncle and my father and I never went

to sleep; we were making plans for all the family and building castles

in the air all night--Why do you say nothing? Why are you so silent?

Are you not as glad as I am?"

 

Nela looked up in the girl's bright face and made a faint effort to

resist the gentle hand that held hers.

 

"Come along--what is the matter? You look at me so strangely Nela."

 

She did indeed; the hapless child's eyes wandering vaguely from one

object to another, ended by fixing themselves on the Virgin of her

fancy, with a strange glitter of apprehension.

 

"Why does your hand tremble so?" Florentina went on. "Are you ill?

You are as pale as death and your teeth are chattering. If you are

ill I will cure you, I myself can cure you. From this day you will

have some one to care for you, and pet you, and make much of you.

And I shall not be alone you know, for Pablo is very fond of you--he

told me so. We both love you dearly and he and I shall be like one

person.--He wants to see you. Just fancy how full of curiosity a man

must be who has never seen anything at all; but you cannot think

how--from being so clever as he is, and having an imagination which

seems to have given him a number of ideas which blind people scarcely

ever have--from the first moment he knew what was pretty and what was

ugly. A bit of scarlet sealing-wax pleased him at once and a piece

of coal he thought hideous. He admired the beauty of the sky and was

disgusted at the sight of a frog. Everything that is beautiful excites

him to an enthusiasm that is almost delirium; everything ugly fills him

with horror, and makes him tremble as we do when we are frightened.

My appearance must have pleased him, for he exclaimed as soon as he

saw me: "Oh! cousin, how pretty you are! Thank God for having bestowed

sight on me so that I can see you!"

 

Nela had gently withdrawn her hand from Florentina's grasp and fell on

the ground as if suddenly stricken to death. The young girl bent over

her, saying in coaxing tones: "Oh! what is it ails you? Why do you

look at me so?" Marianela fixed her eyes on the Holy Virgin's face with

a miserable stare; still their __EXPRESSION__ was not one of aversion, but

rather a gaze of agonized entreaty, like the last look of a dying man

imploring mercy from the image of the Saviour, and believing it to be

God himself.

 

"Señora," murmured the child, "I do not hate you--no indeed I do not

hate you. On the contrary, I love you dearly--I adore you." And taking

up the hem of Florentina's dress she pressed it to her dry lips and

kissed it fervently.

 

"But whoever supposed you would hate me?" said the young girl greatly

bewildered. "I know that you love me. But you frighten me--get up."

 

"I do love you, dearly, dearly; I adore you," repeated Nela, kissing

the feet of her benefactress. "And yet I cannot--I cannot...."

 

"What cannot you do--for God's sake! get up." Florentina put out

her arms to help her up; but Nela rose without any assistance, and

springing away to a safe distance, she repeated, bursting into a flood

of tears:

 

"I cannot Señorita, I cannot."

 

"What?--in Heaven's name! what has come over you?"

 

"I cannot go there." And she pointed to Aldeacorba, where the roof of

Don Francisco's house was visible among the trees.

 

"And why?"

 

"The Blessed Virgin knows," replied the child with prompt decision.

"May the Holy Virgin bless you!" She made a cross with her fingers and

kissed it; she was registering a vow.

 

Florentina took a step towards her and María, understanding the loving

impulse, flew to meet her; she laid her head against her friend's

bosom, and murmured as she sobbed: "Kiss me--for God's sake! give me

one kiss!"

 

Florentina kissed her tenderly, and then freeing herself with a start,

or rather a wild and sudden leap, the child--or woman--fled to a brake

close at hand; the brushwood seemed to open and swallow her up.

 

"Nela, Nela--little sister!" cried Florentina in much distress.

 

"Farewell, child of my eyes!" said Nela, turning round to look at her once more; and she vanished in the copse.