The Joy of Captain Ribot

í had made upon me. How many hours I have passed that way, in the solitude of the ocean, given over to my thoughts! Seldom have they been sad.

my somewhat dreamy and fanciful temperament, I preferred that calling. My father agreed to this with apparent reluctance, but was, perhaps, pleased in reality by the appreciation that I showed for his own profession. I soon learned navigation, and made two voyages to Cuba. But my onl

Now I went as second officer in a steamer of the same company in which my father was employed. After a few months my father was crippled by rheumatism, and while he was undergoing treatment the owners placed me temporarily in command of the Urano. Unfortunately he could not resume his place; after dragging out a painful existence for some time he died. My mother would have liked me to forsake the sea and aga

my own temperament contributed to this, and the solitude in which the mariner passes most of his time. After the death of Matilde no true love had ever occupied my heart again. Idle affairs, adventures for a few days, amused me along various degrees of the scale. And so I had come to see the first gray threads in my beard and hair. But my romantic nature, although dormant in the depths of my heart, was by no means dead. The adventures in folly, the coarse pleasures of

t follow. Many a time, when a pretty young woman had crossed my path in port, I would afterwards tenaciously hold her image in my mind's eye. Again, in the solitude of the sea, fancy would evoke her, I would imagine her in diverse situations, I would m

per; she had stirred nearly every fibre of my being. Instead of representing her as I chose, I saw her as she had appeared in reality. And again I felt the shame and the sadness that she had made me experien

cupations, I succeeded. But on skirting the eastern coast on my return trip from Hamburg, when I doubled the cape of San Antonio and there spread before my view the incomparably lovely plain that holds Valencia and surr

hip in charge of the first officer, and took the train for Valencia. I arrived at dusk, went to a good hotel, dined, change

rested one, and put herself on her guard? The idea that she might think that I sought payment in annoying gallantry for my service at Gijon was abhorrent. I was tempted to return to the hotel, go to bed, and leave the next day without letting

e Calle del Mar, which was near by. I followed its course, agitated and joyous, and stopped before the number that Martí had indicated. It was one of the most sumptuous houses of the street, elegant, of modern construction, with a high principal story, crowned by a handsome upper story. The great portal was adorned by statues and plants and illuminated by two clusters of gaslights. One of the windows was open and at that moment there escaped the lively notes of a piano. "Is it she

here comes

rned them away and back to the piano just as quickly, as if she had seen something sad or alarming. But controllin

ptain Ribot. We are immensely

and I could not help respondi

tirely casual. I had some business to look after

mbraced

with these conventional lies that deceive nobody and simply serve to show what actors we a

pany he added, not with

the captain of the Urano. I

s if he had come from long and painful labors in the sun. He was prematurely bald, and from his mouth ther

er-in-law

, blonde, his mustache small and silky, his skin flaccid, most carefully shaven. He was lik

d and partner, Don

-eyed, sitting on a divan and at work with an embroidery frame on her lap. Beside her was a young girl of seventeen years whose face of admirable correctness, soft and ivory-like, had the same expression of timid innocence as the virgins of Mu

of the accident. The brother-in-law of Martí, with voice cavernous and husky, perhaps from abuse of tobacco, bitterly censured the conduct of the authorities of Gijon for not having properly lighted the wharf. I replied that almost all wharves were lighted in the same way, since they were not intended for purposes of public pleasure but for the loading and unloading of merchandise. He insisted upon

to ask me various questions about my voyages, the fleet of steamers, the ports where we touched, and everything relating to the commerce in which the ships of our line were engaged. The talk acquired the character of an examination, for Castell showed that he knew as much as I did, or more, about such things. He had travelled much, knew two or three languages perfectly, and on his travels had not only gained knowledge useful in commercial affairs but a multitude of ethnographic, historical, and artistic facts that I was far from possessing. He w

Clara, without giving up he

Emilio? Have they not risen

that they have risen and

no attention to me. He is obstinate, like a good Galician, and so short-sighted in business that he can s

e nose was held so high, and her eyes flashed so imposingly that in her presence one might fancy himself transported to

, desiring neither to contradict

with the heroic accent that might be employed in asking a c

imself with shrug

hid from a man of the narrowest, most limited judgment, altogether unadapted to ventures in the wholesale trade. When I

where the shoe pinches, all the

be invaluable. But as a man of business he is a good-for-nothing; it is only because I hav

ut man, of a pale complexion, bald, with small eyes, who

ing! How d

ego! How do you

her eyes again to her periodical, wi

, shook hands with those about him, kissed his daughter, and

wife! Now, you know yo

moso, turning to the others, de

; when not casting up accounts, she goes down to the warehouse to make out bills; when not making out bills, she writes letters; when not writing letters, she speaks Eng

is panegyric, for instead of acknowledging it and showing hers

women of your province. If there they still go on spinning by the fireside, in the rest of the world they hold a m

rmured some co

oes not all the world know it in Valencia? Am I to be the only one who does not, or pretends not to know it? How m

ttering phrases, opening his eyes wide and arching his eyebrows to express the admiration which possessed him, "am

al languages, and keeping their books with perfect exactitude. But-I confess freely that a woman engaging in industrial speculations

oman is nothing more than that of a domestic animal, caressed or beaten by man, according to his caprice?

replied, "but in my notion woman has no need of

nion. Isabelita," he went on, turning to his daughter, "have I not said to yo

ristina rose from the piano where she h

wish to say," declared Do?a

lowly and painfully what woman performs at once and without endeavor, making life more supportable, and alleviating its woes. Being, as she is, the repository of charity and of the gentle and benefic

e industries, and you will not find a single useful discovery that we owe to the genius or the industry of a woman. This demonstrates clearly that her mind is incapable of elevation to the sphere wherein mov

discoveries. But there are others; and, as I understand them, more important o

without looking at me

could name about fifty-seven o

the world. Among clergymen it is the triumph of the Church; among democrats, political liberty; among musicians, music; and among dancers, the dance.

is discourse, tranquilly expounding his thoughts in a series of reasonings held together with logic, and expressed in elegant and precise fashion. I could not help admiring the varied qualities of his erudition, his p

under conditions of life like those of the bees, it would be a duty for unmarried women to deal out death to their brothers, as the workers do. All manifestations of life, even to the highest, are ruled by instinct. The vir

ssfully his audacious assertions. My reading was wide, but desul

y profession did not require it, and I wrestled with gr

utting off the discussi

stiny of woman according to

including the

g on b

" muttered Sabas, ill-humoredl

has lost more buttons than you! Yet I could not mention one of h

d some uninte

she say?" a

ugh!" said the plu

oloring, gave Mart

her little red-satin elbow-chair, "buttons are not everlasting, and I believe t

emotion as if they were a

a matter of no importance, and not worth while for you to p

desire to find fault with my son. The poor fellow is always in disg

more emotion. I saw with astonishm

exclaimed he

exclaimed her

peared contrite

able to endure those of her children. I suffer horribly when anyone points them out to me, and much more when it is a member of the family. Some such sad ideas

let her needlework fall upon her lap, leaned her foreh

fectionate attentions upon her, soothing her and making excuses. Thanks more to their tender words, I think, than to the salts, the sensitive mother recover

and his wife, Isabelita and Castell, paid scarcely any attention to this incident, and went on talking a

n the narrow confines of a ship's cabin, or in our modest dwelling at Alicante. When we reached this room, a maid was making ready my bed under the se?ora's inspection. As we entered unheard she was herself smoothing t

th this, and see if you

t her husband detaine

en for bringing up co

erything," she replied with some impatien

ight. As we went out again into the corridor I sai

at Do?a Amparo was

indifference, the smallest neglect, affects her deeply, and almost makes her ill. For that matter, although we all go on carefully, and are very attentive to her, it is not enough. Fancy this! I have taken up the custom of kissing her good-night before going to bed! If by bad luck I forge

s of a man of the world his pleasure in knowing me. Sabas and his wife showed more warmth. Do?a Clara, majestic and severe, said good-night to me witho

for business. But mine is an exception, you know. Oh, a marvel! You have

whites of his eyes, as if he beheld before

I had eyes for nobody but her. Do?a Amparo kissed everybody, kissed her son, her daughter-in-law, Do?a Clara, Isabelita, and a

renade from Mozart's "Don Juan." As I did not know of this accomplishment my surprise was great, but even greater my pleasure. Hers was a contralto voice, grave and sweet. The music of the great masters has always the power to move us, but when the voice of an adored woman transports the soul, music truly seems

me out of t

he Captain is

, but not until Martí had kissed her hand, g

id Cristina to me, "you ha

good-night. Martí accompanied me to my room, a

smell of pitch, Captain, I will order a pi

kind welcome and frank cordiality of this noble family moved me. The heartiness of Martí filled me with confusion and shame, but the lovely form of Cristina rose up before me, adorable, bewildering, blotting out all the rest. T