LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VII, Issue 703, 20 September 1876, Page 4

LITERATURE.

BLUE BLOOD AND RED. f Concluded.') ‘Beatrix, of course,’ said I interrupting him, «Of course,’ replied Don Baltasar. ‘ Now you have the whole secret A -word or two more will explain all. Upon the night when Don Guzman visited old Moncada, the latter had laid all his plans with great skill. When the young hidalgo asked for the hundred ducats, of which indeed he had very pressing need, the merchant not only declined to advance them, but reminded his guest of certain large sums already due, and the securities for which he produced. He stated, in a very business-like and remorseless manner, his determination to enforce payment the next day. Guzman raved, stormed, vituperated; but to no purpose. Moncada was imperturbable. He then Earleyed, entreated, supplicated—in vain, loncada was hard as a nether millstone. The young man was in despair. He knew his creditor had him in his power, and could ruin him. Was there no mode of averting his fate? Yes, there was; and Moncada now made his proposition—a simple and easy solution of all Don Guzman’s difficulties. He would remit all his debts ; he would make him rich—rich beyond his expectations, as the husband of his child, Guzman, 4 of course, avowed his love and admiration for Beatrix—and, to say the truth, he did both love and admire her ; but he said something about his sangre azul ; and then he looked at the weeping girl and forgot all about his blood, and ran to her, and gallantly, like a courteous Spanish hidalgo as he was, kissed her hand; and when he turned round to speak again to Moncada, the old fellow was gone. Guzman and Beatrix soon settled the love affair between them, and when her father returned he saw all was right, so he shook hands with Don Guzman for the first time in his life, kissed his daughter, and gave them both his blessing, One difficulty, however, remained. Don Guzman was by birth and lineage a “ Castellano viejo yrancio,” and to marry in Madrid one who was not his equal was not to be thought of for a moment; to do so, would be to lose caste for ever, and be cut off by all his old associates. There was only one course left, namely, to be beforehand with his acquaintances and cut them first. Accordingly, it was arranged that he should leave Madrid as soon as possible, and that Moncada and Beatrix should follow as soon as the merchant could wind up his affairs and convert his goods into ready money. And this, as you have seen, Senor, was accomplished so cleverly that nobody ever knew where any of the parties had gone. Such were the steps that a caballero in those times was forced to take in order to marry the daughter of a trader, who wore nether garments with patches on the knees. ‘But things are different now-a-days,’ said 1. ‘Gracias Dios! they are,’ replied my friend. ‘ln our days a noble would have less scruple in allying himself with the daughter of a merchant, because these latter are a very different sort of persons from what they were then. You may set it down, Senor Slingsby, as a general rule, that the prejudices against any particular class in society are the result of some just reason founded upon the vices, or the defects, or the absurdities of the individuals of that class, and therefore it is that those prejudices give way the moment that the class thus despised are entitled to a more advantageous estimate,’ Sentiments like these coming from a Spaniard of birth struck me with surprise, and I thought them highly commendable. He received the compliment with a smile, and then resumed—‘You would, no doubt, wish to hear the fortunes of this new family, It is told in a few words, Don Guzman, as I said, really loved his wife. And so, when he was separated from his gay companions and was beyond the allurements of the dicebox and the theatre, and within the in fiuences of a lovely and a loving woman, he became a domestic man and a pattern husband. The quick intellect and natural geniality of her nature enabled Beatrix so to profit by the intercourse and teaching of her husband, that she soon became a thorough laiy, even in the social conventionalities that ever distinguish a lady. Whilst; old Moncada, \ roud of his daughter and of the alliance which she had made, began to conform himself gradually to his new position. His irusguerie and coarseness were wonderfully mitigated. He became actually attentive to matters of dress, and was never seen with soiled hands or patched garments. Before he passed away from the world, he danced grandchildren—real hidalgos, with tangre azul in their veins—upon his knee ; and the remoter offspring of Don Guzman and Beatrix Moncada became respected merchants both in Sicily and Spain.’ Don Baltasar thrust his hands into his breast and drew forth a locket. Opening it with a spring, he showed me a miniature of a lady, dressed in the fashion of the previous century; a graceful, matronly, and beautiful face, with coal-black eyes and raven hair. ‘ That is the portrait of my great-grand-mother. Was I not right, Senor Slingsby, in saying that Beatrix Moncada was a pretty girl?’