Part 26 (1/2)
”The happy chance--that is, Maria Clara--had, in the meantime awakened.”
”De Espadana!” said Dona Victorina, finis.h.i.+ng her breakfast. ”Are we going to see little Clara?” And turning to Captain Tiago, ”For you only, Don Santiago; for you alone! My husband does not treat anybody except people of categoria, and he even refuses some of them! My husband is not like those about here--in Madrid he only visited people of categoria.”
They pa.s.sed into the sick room.
The room was almost dark. The windows were shut for fear of a draught, and the little light which illuminated the room came from the two wax candles which were burning in front of an image of the Virgin of Antipolo.
Her head wrapped up in a handkerchief, saturated in cologne water, her body wrapped in wide folds of white sheets which outlined her virginal form, the sick maiden lay on her bed of kamakon [18] among jusi and pina curtains. Her hair, forming a frame around her oval face, increased her transparent paleness, which was animated only by her large eyes full of sadness. At her side were her two friends and Andeng.
De Espadana felt of her pulse, examined her tongue, asked some questions, and shaking his head seriously, said:
”Sh-sh-she is si-sick. But we-we-we can cu-cu-cure her.”
Dona Victorina looked with pride at those around her.
”A li-lichen in mil-milk in the-the morning; syrup of marsh marsh-mal-mallow, tw-o--two hounds'--hounds' tongue pi-pills,”
ordered De Espadana.
”Take courage, little Clara,” said Dona Victorina, approaching her. ”We have come to cure you. I am going to present our cousin to you.”
Linares was absorbed, contemplating those eloquent eyes which seemed to be seeking some one, and he did not hear Dona Victorina call him.
”Senor Linares,” said the curate, calling him out of his ecstacy. ”Here comes Father Damaso.”
In fact, Father Damaso was coming, pale and somewhat sad. On leaving his bed, his first visit was to Maria Clara. He was no longer the Father Damaso that he had been, so robust and talkative. He now walked along in silence and with unsteady footsteps.
CHAPTER XXV
SCHEMES.
Without paying attention to anybody, Father Damaso went straight to the sick room and took hold of Maria's hand.
”Maria!” said he, with indescribable tenderness, as tears dropped from his eyes. ”Maria, my child, you are not going to die!”
Maria opened her eyes and looked at him with surprise.
None who knew the Franciscan suspected that he ever had such tender thoughts. No one ever supposed that a heart existed under that gross and rude aspect.
Father Damaso could say no more and left the maiden, weeping like a child. He went out through the room at the head of the stairs, to give free vent to his grief, on Maria Clara's balcony under her favorite vines.
”How he loves his G.o.d-daughter!” thought they all.
Father Salvi witnessed the scene, immovable and silent, lightly biting his lips.
When his grief was somewhat soothed, Father Damaso was introduced by Dona Victorina to the young Linares, who approached the friar with respect.