But the most curious thing about Don Juan Tafetan was his liking for pretty girls. He himself, in the days when he did not hide his baldness with half a dozen hairs plastered down with pomade, when he did not dye his mustache, when, in the freedom from care of youthful years, he walked with shoulders unstooped and head erect, had been a formidable /Tenorio/. To hear him recount his conquests was something to make one die laughing; for there are /Tenorios/ and Tenorios/, and he was one of the most original.
"What girls? I don't see any girls," responded Pepe Rey.
"Yes, play the anchorite!"
One of the blinds of the balcony was opened, giving a glimpse of a youthful face, lovely and smiling, that disappeared instantly, like a light extinguished by the wind.
"Yes, I see now."
"Don't you know them?"
"On my life I do not."
"They are the Troyas--the Troya girls. Then you don't know something good. Three lovely girls, the daughters of a colonel of staff, who died in the streets of Madrid in '54."
The blind opened again, and two faces appeared.
"They are laughing at me," said Tafetan, making a friendly sign to the girls.
"Do you know them?"
"Why, of course I know them. The poor things are in the greatest want.
I don't know how they manage to live. When Don Francisco Troya died a subion was raised for them, but that did not last very long."
"Poor girls! I imagine they are not models of virtue."
"And why not? I do not believe what they say in the town about them."
Once more the blinds opened.
"Good-afternoon, girls!" cried Don Juan Tafetan to the three girls, who appeared, artistically grouped, at the window. "This gentleman says that good things ought not to hide themselves, and that you should throw open the blinds."
But the blind was closed and a joyous concert of laughter diffused a strange gayety through the gloomy street. One might have fancied that a flock of birds was passing.
"Shall we go there?" said Tafetan suddenly.
His eyes sparkled and a roguish smile played on his discolored lips.
"But what sort of people are they, then?"
"Don't be afraid, Senor de Rey. The poor things are honest. Bah! Why, they live upon air, like the chameleons. Tell me, can any one who doesn't eat sin? The poor girls are virtuous enough. And even if they did sin, they fast enough to make up for it."
"Let us go, then."
A moment later Don Juan Tafetan and Pepe Rey were entering the parlor of the Troyas. The poverty he saw, that struggled desperately to disguise itself, afflicted the young man. The three girls were very lovely, especially the two younger ones, who were pale and dark, with large black eyes and slender figures. Well-dressed and well shod they would have seemed the daughters of a duchess, and worthy to ally themselves with princes.
When the visitors entered, the three girls were for a moment abashed: but very soon their naturally gay and frivolous dispositions became apparent. They lived in poverty, as birds live in confinement, singing behind iron bars as they would sing in the midst of the abundance of the forest. They spent the day sewing, which showed at least honorable principles; but no one in Orbajosa, of their own station in life, held any intercourse with them. They were, to a certain extent, proscribed, looked down upon, avoided, which also showed that there existed some cause for scandal. But, to be just, it must be said that the bad reputation of the Troyas consisted, more than in any thing else, in the name they had of being gossips and mischief-makers, fond of playing practical jokes, and bold and free in their manners. They wrote anonymous letters to grave personages; they gave nicknames to every living being in Orbajosa, from the bishop down to the lowest vagabond; they threw pebbles at the passers-by; they hissed behind the window bars, in order to amuse themselves with the perplexity and annoyance of the startled passer-by; they found out every thing that occurred in the neighborhood; to which end they made constant use of every window and aperture in the upper part of the house; they sang at night in the balcony; they masked themselves during the Carnival, in order to obtain entrance into the houses of the highest families; and they played many other mischievous pranks peculiar to small towns. But whatever its cause, the fact was that on the Troya triumvirate rested one of those stigmas that, once affixed on any one by a susceptible community, accompanies that person implacably even beyond the tomb.
"This is the gentleman they say has come to discover the gold-mines?" said one of the girls.
"And to do away with the cultivation of garlic in Orbajosa to plant cotton or cinnamon trees in its stead?"
Pepe could not help laughing at these absurdities.
"All he has come for is to make a collection of pretty girls to take back with him to Madrid," said Tafetan.
"Ah! I'll be very glad to go!" cried one.
"I will take the three of you with me," said Pepe. "But I want to know one thing; why were you laughing at me when I was at the window of the Casino?"
These words were the signal for fresh bursts of laughter.
"These girls are silly things," said the eldest.
"It was because we said you deserved something better than Dona Perfecta's daughter."
"It was because this one said that you are only losing your time, for Rosarito cares only for people connected with the Church."
