the four horsemen of the apocalypse-第12节

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enora　。　。　。　all　for　twenty…five　dollars　a　month。　　Who　can　compete　with　such　people！　　You；　Frenchy；　you　are　like　me；　very　serious；　and　would　die　of　hunger　before　passing　through　certain　things。　　But；　mark　my　words；　on　this　very　account　they　are　going　to　become　a　terrible　people！〃

After　brief　reflection；　the　ranchman　added：

〃Perhaps　they　are　not　so　good　as　they　seem。　　Just　see　how　they　treat　those　under　them！　　It　may　be　that　they　affect　this　simplicity　without　having　it；　and　when　they　grin　at　receiving　a　kick；　they　are　saying　inside；　〃Just　wait　till　my　turn　comes；　and　I'll　give　you　three！〃

Then　he　suddenly　seemed　to　repent　of　his　suspicions。

〃At　any　rate；　this　Karl　is　a　poor　fellow；　a　mealy…mouthed　simpleton　who　the　minute　I　say　anything　opens　his　jaws　like　a　fly…catcher。　　He　insists　that　he　comes　of　a　great　family；　but　who　knows　anything　about　these　gringoes？　。　。　。　　All　of　us；　dead　with　hunger　when　we　reach　America；　claim　to　be　sons　of　princes。〃

Madariaga　had　placed　himself　on　a　familiar　footing　with　his　Teutonic　treasure；　not　through　gratitude　as　with　Desnoyers；　but　in　order　to　make　him　feel　his　inferiority。　　He　had　also　introduced　him　on　an　equal　footing　in　his　home；　but　only　that　he　might　give　piano　lessons　to　his　younger　daughter。　　The　Romantica　was　no　longer　framing　herself　in　the　doorwayin　the　gloaming　watching　the　sunset　reflections。　　When　Karl　had　finished　his　work　in　the　office；　he　was　now　coming　to　the　house　and　seating　himself　beside　Elena；　who　was　tinkling　away　with　a　persistence　worthy　of　a　better　fate。　　At　the　end　of　the　hour　the　German；　accompanying　himself　on　the　piano；　would　sing　fragments　from　Wagner　in　such　a　way　that　it　put　Madariaga　to　sleep　in　his　armchair　with　his　great　Paraguay　cigar　sticking　out　of　his　mouth。

Elena　meanwhile　was　contemplating　with　increasing　interest　the　singing　gringo。　　He　was　not　the　knight　of　her　dreams　awaited　by　the　fair　lady。　　He　was　almost　a　servant；　a　blond　immigrant　with　reddish　hair；　fat；　heavy；　and　with　bovine　eyes　that　reflected　an　eternal　fear　of　disagreeing　with　his　chiefs。　　But　day　by　day；　she　was　finding　in　him　something　which　rather　modified　these　impressions　his　feminine　fairness；　except　where　he　was　burned　by　the　sun；　the　increasingly　martial　aspect　of　his　moustachios；　the　agility　with　which　he　mounted　his　horse；　his　air　of　a　troubadour；　intoning　with　a　rather　weak　tenor　voluptuous　romances　whose　words　she　did　not　understand。

One　night；　just　before　supper；　the　impressionable　girl　announced　with　a　feverish　excitement　which　she　could　no　longer　repress　that　she　had　made　a　grand　discovery。

〃Papa；　Karl　is　of　noble　birth！　　He　belongs　to　a　great　family。〃

The　plainsman　made　a　gesture　of　indifference。　　Other　things　were　vexing　him　in　those　days。　　But　during　the　evening；　feeling　the　necessity　of　venting　on　somebody　the　wrath　which　had　been　gnawing　at　his　vitals　since　his　last　trip　to　Buenos　Aires；　he　interrupted　the　singer。

〃See　here；　gringo；　what　is　all　this　nonsense　about　nobility　which　you　have　been　telling　my　girl？〃

Karl　left　the　piano　that　he　might　draw　himself　up　to　the　approved　military　position　before　responding。　　Under　the　influence　of　his　recent　song；　his　pose　suggested　Lohengrin　about　to　reveal　the　secret　of　his　life。　　His　father　had　been　General　von　Hartrott；　one　of　the　commanders　in　the　war　of　'70。　　The　Emperor　had　rewarded　his　services　by　giving　him　a　title。　　One　of　his　uncles　was　an　intimate　councillor　of　the　King　of　Prussia。　　His　older　brothers　were　conspicuous　in　the　most　select　regiments。　　He　had　carried　a　sword　as　a　lieutenant。

Bored　with　all　this　grandeur；　Madariaga　interrupted　him。　　〃Lies　。　。　。　nonsense　。　。　。　hot　air！〃　　The　very　idea　of　a　gringo　talking　to　him　about　nobility！　。　。　。　　He　had　left　Europe　when　very　young　in　order　to　cast　in　his　lot　with　the　revolting　democracies　of　America；　and　although　nobility　now　seemed　to　him　something　out…of…date　and　incomprehensible；　still　he　stoutly　maintained　that　the　only　true　nobility　was　that　of　his　own　country。　　He　would　yield　first　place　to　the　gringoes　for　the　invention　of　machinery　and　ships；　and　for　breeding　priceless　animals；　but　all　the　Counts　and　Marquises　of　Gringo…land　appeared　to　him　to　be　fictitious　characters。

〃All　tomfoolery！〃　he　blustered。　　〃There　isn't　any　nobility　in　your　country；　nor　have　you　five　dollars　all　told　to　rub　against　each　other。　　If　you　had；　you　wouldn't　come　over　here　to　play　the　gallant　to　women　who　are　。　。　。　you　know　what　they　are　as　well　as　I　do。〃

To　the　astonishment　of　Desnoyers；　the　German　received　this　onslaught　with　much　humility；　nodding　his　head　in　agreement　with　the　Patron's　last　words。

〃If　there's　any　truth　in　all　this　twaddle　about　titles；〃　continued　Madariaga　implacably；　〃swords　and　uniforms；　what　did　you　come　here　for？　　What　in　the　devil　did　you　do　in　your　own　country　that　you　had　to　leave　it？〃

Now　Karl　hung　his　head；　confused　and　stuttering。

〃Papa；　papa；〃　pleaded　Elena。　　〃The　poor　little　fellow！　　How　can　you　humiliate　him　so　just　because　he　is　poor？〃

And　she　felt　a　deep　gratitude　toward　her　brother…in…law　when　he　broke　through　his　usual　reserve　in　order　to　come　to　the　rescue　of　the　German。

〃Oh；　yes；　of　course；　he's　a　good…enough　fellow；〃　said　Madariaga；　excusing　himself。　　〃But　he　comes　from　a　land　that　I　detest。〃

When　Desnoyers　made　a　trip　to　Buenos　Aires　a　few　days　afterward；　the　cause　of　the　old　man's　wrath　was　explained。　　It　appeared　that　for　some　months　past　Madariaga　had　been　the　financial　guarantor　and　devoted　swain　of　a　German　prima　donna　stranded　in　South　America　with　an　Italian　opera　company。　　It　was　she　who　had　recommended　Karlan　unfortunate　countryman；　who　after　wandering　through　many　parts　of　the　continent；　was　now　living　with　her　as　a　sort　of　gentlemanly　singer。　　Madariaga　had　joyously　expended　upon　this　courtesan　many　thousands　of　dollars。　　A　childish　enthusiasm　had　accompanied　him　in　this　novel　existence　midst　urban　dissipations　until　he　happened　to　discover　that　his　Fraulein　was　leading　another　life　during　his　absence；　laughing　at　him　with　the　parasites　of　her　retinue；　whereupon　he　arose　in　his　wrath　and　bade　her　farewell　to　the　accompaniment　of　blows　and　broken　furniture。

The　last　adventure　of　his　life！　。　。　。　　Desnoyers　suspected　his　abdication　upon　hearing　him　admit　his　age；　for　the　first　time。　　He　did　not　intend　to　return　to　the　capital。　　It　was　all　false　glitter。　Existence　in　the　country；　surrounded　by　all　his　family　and　doing　good　to　the　poor　was　the　only　sure　thing。　　And　the　terrible　centaur　expressed　himself　with　the　idyllic　tenderness　and　firm　virtue　of　seventy…five　years；　already　insensible　to　temptation。

After　his　scene　with　Karl；　he　had　increased　the　German's　salary；　trying　as　usual；　to　counteract　the　effects　of　his　violent　outbreaks　with　generosity。　　That　which　he　could　not　forget　was　his　dependent's　nobility；　constantly　making　it　the　subject　of　new　jests。　　That　glorious　boast　had　brought　to　his　mind　the　genealogical　trees　of　the　illustrious　ancestry　of　his　prize　cattle。　　The　German　was　a　pedigreed　fellow；　and　thenceforth　he　called　him　by　that　nickname。

Seated　on　summer　nights　under　the　awning；　he　surveyed　his　family　around　him　with　a　sort　of　patriarchal　ecstasy。　　In　the　evening　hush　could　be　heard　the　buzzing　of　insects　and　the　croaking　of　the　frogs。　From　the　distant　ranches　floated　the　songs　of　the　peons　as　they　prepared　their　suppers。　　It　was　harvest　time；　and　great　bands　of　immigrants　were　encamped　in　the　fields　for　the　extra　work。

Madariaga　had　known　many　of　the　hard　old　days　of　wars　and　violence。　Upon　his　arrival　in　South　America；　he　had　witnessed　the　last　years　of　the　tyranny　of　Rosas。　　He　loved　to　enumerate　the　different　provincial　and　national　revolutions　in　which　he　had　taken　part。　　But　all　this　had　disappeared　and　would　never　return。　　These　were　the　times　of　peace；　work　and　abundance。

〃Just　think　of　it；　Frenchy；〃　he　said；　driving　away　the　mosquitoes　with　the　puffs　of　his　cigar。　　〃I　am　Spanish；　you　French；　Karl　German；　my　daughters　Argentinians；　the　cook　Russian；　his　assistant　Greek；　the　stable　boy　English；　the　kitchen　servants　Chinas　（natives）；　Galicians　or　Italians；　and　among　the　peons　there　are　many　castes　and　laws。　。　。　。　　And　yet　we　all　live　in　peace。　　In　Europe；　we　would　have　probably　been　in　a　grand　fight　by　this　time；　but　here　we　are　all　friends。〃

He　took　much　pleasure　in　listening　to　the　music　of　the　laborers　laments　from　Italian　songs　to　the　accompaniment　of　the　accordion；　Spanish　guitars　and　Creole　choruses；　wild　voices　chanting　of　love　and　death。

〃This　is　a　regular　Noah's　ark；〃　exulted　the　vainglorious　patriarch。

〃He　means　the　tower　of　Babel；〃　thought　Desnoyers　to　himself；　〃but　it's　all　the　same　thing　to　the　old　man。〃

〃I　believe；〃　he　rambled　on；　〃that　we　live　thus　because　in　this　part　of　the　world　there　are　no　kings　and　a　very　small　armyand　mankind　is　thinking　only　of　enjoying　itself　as　much　as　possible；　thanks　to　its　work。　　But　I　also　believe　that　we　live　so　peacefully　because　there　is　such　abundance　that　everyone　gets　his　share。　。　。　。　　How　quickly　we　would　spring　to　arms　if　the　rations　were　less　than　the　people！〃

Again　he　fell　into　reflective　silence；　shortly　after　announcing　the　result　of　his　meditations。

〃Be　that　as　it　may　be；　we　must　recog