Dragon's Teeth by Eça de Queirós

LUIZA passed a feverish and uneasy night. In the morning Jorge was alarmed by the frequency of her pulse and the heat of her skin. He, too, owing to a feeling of nervousness, had spent a wakeful night. The room in which they slept had been shut up for a long time past, and was pervaded, in consequence, by a chill dampness; there were stains of mould on the wall near the ceiling; the antique bed, without curtains, with its pillars of bent-wood, and the old chest of drawers with its mirror of the last century, had an indefinable air of sadness, as though recalling lives long dead and gone. To find himself thus with his wife under a strange roof produced in his mind, without his knowing why, a vaguely superstitious feeling. It seemed to him as if a turning-point had come in his life, and that, like a river which changes its course, it would begin from this night forth to flow amid different surroundings. The northeast wind beat against the window-panes, and howled through the narrow street, seeking an outlet.

In the morning Luiza was unable to rise.

Julião, who was called in haste, allayed their fears, however.

"It is a slight nervous fever that will pass away with a little rest," he said. "Last night's fright, no doubt."

"I dreamed all night of her," responded Luiza. "I thought she had come back to life again. How horrible it was!"

"You need have no uneasiness on that score," returned Julião. "Have they prepared her for burial yet? " turning to Jorge.

"Sebastião is there," answered Jorge, "and I am going now to take a look at things."

The death of old parchment was already known in the neighborhood. The woman who had laid her out -- a matron deeply pitted with the small-pox, with eyes reddened by the abuse of spirituous liquors -- was an acquaintance of the Senhora Helena. She had stood a moment in the sunshine chatting with her at the door of the tobacco-shop.

"Is there much business, Senhora Margarida?"

"A good deal, a good deal," replied the other in a husky voice. "In winter there is always more to do. But they are all old people, who drop off with the cold. There is not a pretty corpse among them."

The Senhora Margarida, it will be seen, had artistic tastes.

The tobacconist related many particulars to her regarding Juliana, -- the favors shown her by her master and mistress, her airs, and the luxury she enjoyed of having a matted room. The Senhora Margarida responded that she was amazed by what she heard. And who would have it all now? she asked. "But I must dress that doll," she ended, going into the house with an air of compunction. The priest was there conversing in a husky voice with Sebastião about agriculture, drainage, and grafting, and passing his folded handkerchief from time to time under his nose with his hairy hand. All the windows were open to the pleasant warmth of the sun, and the canaries were twittering in their cages.

"Had the deceased been long in the family? " asked the priest of Jorge, who was walking up and down the parlor, smoking.

"Three years."

The priest slowly unfolded his handkerchief and shook it out preparatory to blowing his nose.

"Her mistress must regret her greatly," he said. "But it is a debt we must all pay at last. " And he blew his nose loudly.

Joanna made her appearance at this moment, wrapped in a shawl, with a handkerchief tied around her head. She had heard from the neighbors that Juliana was dead, and that the master and mistress were at Dom Sebastião's. She came from there now. Luiza had sent for her to her room, and when Joanna saw her "dear mistress" lying ill in bed, she shed tears; but Luiza told her that now things would soon be better, and that she might come back.

"And listen, Joanna," she ended; "if the master should ask you, say that you went to Bellas to see your aunt."

The girl went for her bundle, and installed herself anew in the house, somewhat frightened by a death having taken place there.

Shortly afterwards Senhor Paula knocked discreetly at the door. He came to offer his services for whatever might be wanted on the occasion. Taking off his cap, and scraping his foot, he said in his hoarse voice, "I am very sorry for the misfortune, -- very sorry. But we are all mortal!"