The Manuscript Found in Saragossa (33 page)

‘That may well be,' said the gypsy chief.

‘That is half the sum plus half the difference,' the stranger went on. ‘Everyone knows that.'

‘Capital!' said the gypsy chief, and carried on with his story.

‘The viceroy, still wanting to tell me about the state of my fortune,
said, ‘In the second year we mined deeper into the ground and we had to build galleries, sumps and tunnels. The costs of exploitation, which had been only a quarter, now rose by an eighth and the quantity of ore diminished by a sixth.'

‘Our problems grew greater in the third year. We were obliged to bring in miners from Peru, to whom we gave a fifteenth of the profit without counting the expenses, which, that year, increased by two-fifteenths. But the ore increased by ten and a quarter times in respect of what we had obtained in the second year.'

‘Since then, Señora, our dividends diminished every year by two-seventeenths. As I obtained interest on the money from the mine, which I compounded with the capital, the result is that I have a fortune of fifty million piastres, which I place at your feet together with my titles, my heart and my hand.'

‘Señores, the fact is that the fortune of the viceroy amounted to sixty million, twenty-five thousand and a hundred and sixty-one piastres, on the assumption that the share of the viceroy was to that of his associate as eighteen hundred is to twelve hundred or three is to two.'

Having uttered these words, the geometer fell into a sort of lethargy from which we were loath to rouse him, since it seemed to us that he now needed sleep. He slept in fact until six o'clock that evening, but he only emerged from his lethargy to lapse into an endless succession of absent-minded remarks.

First, he asked who had fallen into the water. He was told that
he
had fallen into the water and that I had dragged him out.

He then turned to me with great courtesy and friendliness and said, ‘I really didn't know that I could swim so well. I am delighted that I have saved for the king one of his best officers, for
you
are a captain in the Walloon Guards. You told me that and I never forget anything.'

Everyone laughed. But that didn't put the geometer off. He went on amusing us with his absent-mindedness.

The cabbalist seemed scarcely less distracted himself. He spoke only of the Wandering Jew, who was to give him information about the two demons called Emina and Zubeida.

Rebecca took my arm and led me to a place where we could not be overheard. ‘Señor Alphonse,' she said, ‘I urge you to tell me what you think of all you have heard and seen since you have been in these mountains, and to let me know what your thoughts are on the cursed hanged men who keep playing such nasty tricks on us.'

‘Señora,' I replied, ‘I am much put out by your question. What interests your brother is a secret which is unknown to me. As for myself, I am convinced that I was carried under the gallows after I had been drugged by a sleeping draught. And you it was who told me about the power that the Gomelez secretly exercise in this part of the country.'

‘Yes, indeed,' said Rebecca. ‘I think they want to convert you to Islam. Perhaps it would be a good idea to give in to their desires.'

‘What?' I cried. ‘Are you a party to their plans?'

‘No,' she replied. ‘Perhaps I am following my own. I have already told you that I will never love a man of my religion or a Christian. But let's rejoin the company. We'll talk about this another time.'

Rebecca went to find her brother and I went on my own way, pondering on what I had seen and heard. But the harder I thought about it, the less I could understand it.

Rebecca noticed it and thought it very funny. When we had eaten she said, ‘Señores, we are losing a great deal by the chief's absence, for I am dying to know how he received the offer of the hand and fortune of the viceroy. But we have in our midst a gentleman who could make up for it by telling us his own story, which must be very interesting. He seems to have cultivated sciences which are not unknown to me, and anything about a man like that must please me greatly.'

‘Señora,' the stranger replied, ‘I do not think that you have applied yourself to the same sciences that I have, since most women are incapable of understanding even their rudiments. But since you have received me so hospitably it is my duty to tell you all about myself. So to begin with, I shall tell you that my name is… my name is…'

‘What?' said Rebecca, ‘are you so absent-minded that you can forget your own name?'

‘Not at all,' said the geometer. ‘I am not absent-minded by nature at all. But my father had one great moment of absent-mindedness in his life. He signed his brother's name in the place of his own and that act of absent-mindedness caused him to lose his wife, his fortune and the reward for his labours at a single stroke. So in order to prevent a similar thing happening to me, I have written my name on my writing-tablets. And when I want to sign it I copy what is written there.'

‘But,' said Rebecca, ‘it's a matter here of saying your name, not signing it.'

‘You are quite right,' said the stranger. So he put his tablets back in his pocket and began.

This lasted down as far as Don Sancho, fifth Duke of Velásquez, great-grandson of the elder son of Ramiro. This worthy gentleman was, like several of his ancestors, endowed with the office and dignity of grand master of artillery. He was, moreover, the Governor of Galicia and resided in that province. He married a daughter of the Duke of Alba, and this marriage gave him as much happiness as it brought honour to our family through an alliance with the house of Alba. The duchess was not, however, as fertile as her husband had hoped. She had but one child, a daughter named Blanca. The duke intended her to be the wife of a Velásquez of the younger branch, to which she would bring the older branch's title of grandee and the family fortune.

My father, whose name was Don Enrique, and his brother, Don Carlos, had just lost their father, who was descended in the same degree as the duke from Don Ramiro. The duke took them both into his household. My father was twelve at the time and his brother eleven. Their characters were very different. My father was earnest, studious, over-sensitive. His brother was frivolous, rash and incapable
of applying himself to anything. The duke perceived these contrary dispositions, decided that my father should be his son-in-law and, to prevent Blanca's heart making a choice different from his own, he sent Don Carlos to Paris to have him educated under the supervision of his relative, the conde de la Hereira, who was then ambassador in France.

By the excellent qualities of his heart and extraordinary hard work, my father won daily more and more of the goodwill of the duke and of Blanca, who knew that she was intended for him and became more and more attached to the choice her father had made. She even shared the tastes of her young suitor and followed from afar his career as a scientist. Imagine a young man whose precocious genius encompassed all human knowledge at an age when others were only just acquiring its rudiments. Imagine next that this young man was in love with a young girl of his age, of superior intelligence, eager to understand him and pleased to share as she thought in his success. This will give you some idea of the happiness enjoyed by my father in that short period of his life. How could Blanca not have loved him? He was the pride and joy of the old duke and the darling of the whole province. Before he was twenty years old his reputation began to spread beyond the confines of Spain.

Blanca loved her betrothed with passion and vanity. But Enrique, who was all heart and soul, loved her only with affection. He loved the duke almost as much as his daughter and often thought of his brother Don Carlos.

‘My dear Blanca,' he would say to his mistress, ‘don't you think our happiness is incomplete without Carlos? There are many lovely girls here who could settle him down. He is very inconstant. He rarely writes to me, but a sweet, tender wife would cultivate his heart. Dear Blanca, I adore you, I love your father but, since nature has given me a brother, why must we always be apart?'

One day, the duke summoned my father and said, ‘Don Enrique, I have just received from the king, our master, a letter whose contents I wish to communicate to you. This is what it says:

My father thought for a moment about what the duke had told him, then said with confidence, ‘Yes, Your Excellency, I shall enter the lists and will not cause you to feel ashamed.'

‘Very well,' said the duke. ‘Do your best, and when the task has been completed there will be no further postponement of your happiness. Blanca will be yours.'

You can imagine how ardently my father set himself to work. He laboured night and day, and when his exhausted mind forced him to take some rest he would spend his free time in Blanca's company speaking about their future happiness and often, too, of the pleasure he would have in seeing Carlos again. A year passed in this way.

At last, various proposals came in from every corner of Spain and all over Europe. They were sealed and deposited in the duke's chancellery. My father saw that it was time to put the finishing touches to his work and he brought it to a pitch of perfection of which I can only give you a very faint idea. He began by establishing broad principles of attack and defence. He showed how Coehoorn had conformed to these principles and how he had departed from them. He placed Vauban well above Coehoorn but predicted that he would change his system a second time. History has confirmed his
prediction. All these arguments were not only supported by learned theory but also by details of localities, estimates of expenditure and above all else by such calculations as would frighten even specialists.

When my father had written the last lines of his proposal, it seemed to him that he could see a thousand previously undetected faults in it. Trembling, he presented it to the duke, who returned it to him the next day with the words, ‘My dear nephew, the prize is yours. All you need to think about now is your marriage. It will soon be celebrated.'

My father threw himself at the duke's feet and said, ‘Your Excellency, I beg you to be so kind as to summon my brother. My happiness will not be complete unless I am granted that of embracing him after so long an absence.'

The duke frowned and said, ‘I foresee that Carlos will bore us to tears with the greatness of Louis XIV and the splendour of his court. But since it is your wish, let's summon him.'

My father kissed the duke's hand and went to see his betrothed. Geometry was no longer in question. Love filled all his moments and all the faculties of his soul.

Meanwhile the king, who was very keen on the fortification project, commanded that all the proposals should be read and examined. It was unanimously decided that my father's had won. He received from the minister a letter informing him of the satisfaction of the king and telling him that it was the king's wish that he name his own reward. In a separate letter, addressed to the duke, the minister intimated that if the young man were to ask for the commission of colonel-general of artillery he might obtain it.

My father took his letter to the duke, who informed him of the contents of the one he had received. My father declared that he could not solicit a rank which he did not think he deserved and begged the duke to reply on his behalf. The duke refused.

‘It was to you that the minister wrote and it is you who must reply,' he said. ‘The minister must surely have his reasons and, as he calls you “young man” in the letter he wrote to me, it may be surmised that your youth interests the king and that the minister wants to place before his eyes a letter from the young man himself.
We will, I am sure, find some turn of expression to prevent the letter appearing too presumptuous.'

Having said this, the duke went to his secretary and wrote the following letter: