part10-第4节

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group　of　his　brother　invalids；　some　seated　on　the　parapets；　some　lying

on　the　grass；　listening　with　fixed　attention；　while　he　read　slowly　and

deliberately　out　of　his　favorite　work；　sometimes　pausing　to　explain　or

expound　for　the　benefit　of　his　less　enlightened　auditors。

　　I　took　occasion　one　day　to　inform　myself　of　this　ancient　book；　which

appeared　to　be　his　vade　mecum；　and　found　it　to　be　an　odd　volume　of　the

works　of　Padre　Benito　Geronymo　Feyjoo；　and　that　one　which　treats　about

the　Magic　of　Spain；　the　mysterious　caves　of　Salamanca　and　Toledo；

the　Purgatory　of　San　Patricio　（St。　Patrick）；　and　other　mystic　subjects

of　the　kind。　From　that　time　I　kept　my　eye　upon　the　veteran。

　　On　the　present　occasion；　I　amused　myself　with　watching　him　fit　out

the　steed　of　Manuel　with　all　the　forecast　of　an　old　campaigner。　First；

he　took　a　considerable　time　in　adjusting　to　the　back　of　the　mule　a

cumbrous　saddle　of　antique　fashion；　high　in　front　and　behind；　with

Moorish　stirrups　like　shovels；　the　whole　looking　like　a　relic　of　the

old　armory　of　the　Alhambra；　then　a　fleecy　sheepskin　was　accommodated

to　the　deep　seat　of　the　saddle；　then　a　maleta；　neatly　packed　by　the

hand　of　Dolores；　was　buckled　behind；　then　a　manta　was　thrown　over　it

to　serve　either　as　cloak　or　couch；　then　the　all…important　alforjas；

carefully　stocked　with　provant；　were　hung　in　front；　together　with

the　bota；　or　leathern　bottle　for　either　wine　or　water；　and　lastly

the　trabuco；　which　the　old　soldier　slung　behind；　giving　it　his

benediction。　It　was　like　the　fitting　out　in　old　times　of　a　Moorish

cavalier　for　a　foray　or　a　joust　in　the　Vivarrambla。　A　number　of　the

lazzaroni　of　the　fortress　had　gathered　round；　with　some　of　the

invalids；　all　looking　on；　all　offering　their　aid；　and　all　giving

advice；　to　the　great　annoyance　of　Tio　Polo。

　　When　all　was　ready　Manuel　took　leave　of　the　household；　Tio　Polo　held

his　stirrup　while　he　mounted；　adjusted　the　girths　and　saddle；　and

cheered　him　off　in　military　style；　then　turning　to　Dolores；　who

stood　admiring　her　cavalier　as　he　trotted　off；　〃Ah　Dolorocita；〃

exclaimed　he；　with　a　nod　and　a　wink；　〃es　muy　guapo　Manuelito　in　su

Xaqueta〃　（〃Ah　Dolores；　Manuel　is　mighty　fine　in　his　jacket。〃）　The

little　damsel　blushed　and　laughed；　and　ran　into　the　house。

　　Days　elapsed　without　tidings　from　Manuel；　though　he　had　promised

to　write。　The　heart　of　Dolores　began　to　misgive　her。　Had　any　thing

happened　to　him　on　the　road？　Had　he　failed　in　his　examination？　A

circumstance　occurred　in　her　little　household　to　add　to　her　uneasiness

and　fill　her　mind　with　foreboding。　It　was　almost　equal　to　the　escapado

of　her　pigeon。　Her　tortoise…shell　cat　eloped　at　night　and　clambered　to

the　tiled　roof　of　the　Alhambra。　In　the　dead　of　the　night　there　was　a

fearful　caterwauling；　some　grimalkin　was　uncivil　to　her；　then　there

was　a　scramble；　then　a　clapper…clawing；　then　both　parties　rolled　off

the　roof　and　tumbled　from　a　great　height　among　the　trees　on　the　hill

side。　Nothing　more　was　seen　or　heard　of　the　fugitive；　and　poor　Dolores

considered　it　but　the　prelude　to　greater　calamities。

　　At　the　end　of　ten　days；　however；　Manuel　returned　in　triumph；　duly

authorized　to　kill　or　cure；　and　all　Dolores'　cares　were　over。　There

was　a　general　gathering　in　the　evening；　of　the　humble　friends　and

hangers…on　of　Dame　Antonio　to　congratulate　her；　and　to　pay　their

respects　to　el　Senor　Medico；　who；　peradventure；　at　some　future　day；

might　have　all　their　lives　in　his　hands。　One　of　the　most　important

of　these　guests　was　old　Tio　Polo；　and　I　gladly　seized　the　occasion

to　prosecute　my　acquaintance　with　him。　〃Oh　senor；〃　cried　Dolores；　〃you

who　are　so　eager　to　learn　all　the　old　histories　of　the　Alhambra。　Tio

Polo　knows　more　about　them　than　any　one　else　about　the　place。　More

than　Mateo　Ximenes　and　his　whole　family　put　together。　Vaya…　vaya…

Tio　Polo；　tell　the　senor　all　those　stories　you　told　us　one　evening；

about　enchanted　Moors；　and　the　haunted　bridge　over　the　Darro；　and

the　old　stone　pomegranates；　that　have　been　there　since　the　days　of

King　Chico。〃

　　It　was　some　time　before　the　old　invalid　could　be　brought　into　a

narrative　vein。　He　shook　his　head…　they　were　all　idle　tales；　not

worthy　of　being　told　to　a　caballero　like　myself。　It　was　only　by

telling　some　stories　of　the　kind　myself　I　at　last　got　him　to　open

his　budget。　It　was　a　whimsical　farrago；　partly　made　up　of　what　he

had　heard　in　the　Alhambra；　partly　of　what　he　had　read　in　Padre　Feyjoo。

I　will　endeavor　to　give　the　reader　the　substance　of　it；　but　I　will　not

promise　to　give　it　in　the　very　words　of　Tio　Polo。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　The　Legend　of　the　Enchanted　Soldier。



　　EVERYBODY　has　heard　of　the　Cave　of　St。　Cyprian　at　Salamanca；　where

in　old　times　judicial　astronomy；　necromancy；　chiromancy；　and　other

dark　and　damnable　arts　were　secretly　taught　by　an　ancient　sacristan；

or；　as　some　will　have　it；　by　the　devil　himself；　in　that　disguise。

The　cave　has　long　been　shut　up　and　the　very　site　of　it　forgotten；

though；　according　to　tradition；　the　entrance　was　somewhere　about　where

the　stone　cross　stands　in　the　small　square　of　the　seminary　of

Carvajal；　and　this　tradition　appears　in　some　degree　corroborated　by

the　circumstances　of　the　following　story。

　　There　was　at　one　time　a　student　of　Salamanca；　Don　Vicente　by　name；

of　that　merry　but　mendicant　class；　who　set　out　on　the　road　to　learning

without　a　penny　in　pouch　for　the　journey；　and　who；　during　college

vacations；　beg　from　town　to　town　and　village　to　village　to　raise　funds

to　enable　them　to　pursue　their　studies　through　the　ensuing　term。　He

was　now　about　to　set　forth　on　his　wanderings；　and　being　somewhat

musical；　slung　on　his　back　a　guitar　with　which　to　amuse　the　villagers；

and　pay　for　a　meal　or　a　night's　lodgings。

　　As　he　passed　by　the　stone　cross　in　the　seminary　square；　he　pulled

off　his　hat　and　made　a　short　invocation　to　St。　Cyprian；　for　good　luck；

when　casting　his　eyes　upon　the　earth；　he　perceived　something　glitter

at　the　foot　of　the　cross。　On　picking　it　up；　it　proved　to　be　a　seal

ring　of　mixed　metal；　in　which　gold　and　silver　appeared　to　be

blended。　The　seal　bore　as　a　device　two　triangles　crossing　each

other；　so　as　to　form　a　star。　This　device　is　said　to　be　a　cabalistic

sign；　invented　by　King　Solomon　the　wise；　and　of　mighty　power　in　all

cases　of　enchantment；　but　the　honest　student；　being　neither　sage　nor

conjurer；　knew　nothing　of　the　matter。　He　took　the　ring　as　a　present

from　St。　Cyprian　in　reward　of　his　prayer；　slipped　it　on　his　finger；

made　a　bow　to　the　cross；　and　strumming　his　guitar；　set　off　merrily

on　his　wandering。

　　The　life　of　a　mendicant　student　in　Spain　is　not　the　most　miserable

in　the　world；　especially　if　he　has　any　talent　at　making　himself

agreeable。　He　rambles　at　large　from　village　to　village；　and　city　to

city；　wherever　curiosity　or　caprice　may　conduct　him。　The　country

curates；　who；　for　the　most　part；　have　been　mendicant　students　in　their

time；　give　him　shelter　for　the　night；　and　a　comfortable　meal；　and

often　enrich　him　with　several　quartos；　or　half…pence　in　the　morning。

As　he　presents　himself　from　door　to　door　in　the　streets　of　the　cities；

he　meets　with　no　harsh　rebuff；　no　chilling　contempt；　for　there　is　no

disgrace　attending　his　mendicity；　many　of　the　most　learned　men　in

Spain　having　commenced　their　career　in　this　manner；　but　if；　like　the

student　in　question；　he　is　a　good…looking　varlet　and　a　merry

companion；　and；　above　all；　if　he　can　play　the　guitar；　he　is　sure　of

a　hearty　welcome　among　the　peasants；　and　smiles　and　favors　from

their　wives　and　daughters。

　　In　this　way；　then；　did　our　ragged　and　musical　son　of　learning　make

his　way　over　half　the　kingdom；　with　the　fixed　determination　to　visit

the　famous　city　of　Granada　before　his　return。　Sometimes　he　was

gathered　for　the　night　into　the　fold　of　some　village　pastor；　sometimes

he　was　sheltered　under　the　humble　but　hospitable　roof　of　the

peasant。　Seated　at　the　cottage　door　with　his　guitar；　he　delighted

the　simple　folk　with　his　ditties；　or　striking　up　a　fandango　or　bolero；

set　the　brown　country　lads　and　lasses　dancing　in　the　mellow

twilight。　In　the　morning　he　departed　with　kind　words　from　host　and

hostess；　and　kind　looks　and；　peradventure；　a　squeeze　of　the　hand

from　the　daughter。

　　At　length　he　arrived　at　the　great　object　of　his　musical

vagabondizing；　the　far…famed　city　of　Granada；　and　hailed　with　wonder

and　delight　its　Moorish　towers；　its　lovely　Vega　and　its　snowy

mountains　glistering　through　a　summer　atmosphere。　It　is　needless　to

say　with　what　eager　curiosity　he　entered　its　gates　and　wandered

through　its　streets；　and　gazed　upon　its　oriental　monuments。　Every

female　face　peering　through　a　window　or　beaming　from　a　balcony　was

to　him　a　Zorayda　or　a　Zelinda；　nor　could　he　meet　a　stately　dame　on　the

Alameda　but　he　was　ready　to　fancy　her　a　Moorish　princess；　and　to

spread　his　student's　robe　beneath　her　feet。

　　His　musical　talent；　his　happy　humor；　his　youth　and　his　good　looks；

won　him　a　universal　welcom