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Governor Manco And The SoldierGovernor Manco And The Soldier
Governor Manco And The Soldier
While Governor Manco, or "the one-armed," kept up a show of military
state in the Alhambra, he became nettled at the reproaches continually cast
upon his fortress, of being a nestling place of rogues and contrabandistas.
On a sudden, the old potentate determined on reform, and setting vigorously
to work, ejected whole nests of vagabonds out of the fortress and the gipsy
caves with which the surrounding hills are honeycombed. He sent out soldiers,
also, to patrol the avenues and footpaths, with orders to take up all
suspicious persons.
One bright summer morning, a patrol, consisting of the testy old corporal
who had distinguished himself in the affair of the notary, a trumpeter and
two privates, was seated under the garden wall of the Generalife, beside the
road which leads down from the mountain of the sun, when they heard the tramp
of a horse, and a male voice singing in rough, though not unmusical tones, an
old Castilian campaigning song.
Presently they beheld a sturdy, sunburnt fellow, clad in the ragged garb
of a foot-soldier, leading a powerful Arabian horse, caparisoned in the
ancient Morisco fashion.
Astonished at the sight of a strange soldier descending, steed in hand,
from that solitary mountain, the corporal stepped forth and challenged him.
"Who goes there?"
"A friend."
"Who and what are you?"
"A poor soldier just from the wars, with a cracked crown and empty purse
for a reward."
By this time they were enabled to view him more narrowly. He had a black
patch across his forehead, which, with a grizzled beard, added to a certain
dare-devil cast of countenance, while a slight squint threw into the whole an
occasional gleam of roguish good humor.
Having answered the questions of the patrol, the soldier seemed to
consider himself entitled to make others in return. "May I ask," said he,
"what city is that which I see at the foot of the hill?"
"What city!" cried the trumpeter; "come, that`s too bad. Here`s a fellow
lurking about the mountain of the sun, and demands the name of the great city
of Granada!"
"Granada! Madre de Dios! can it be possible?"
"Perhaps not!" rejoined the trumpeter; " and perhaps you have no idea
that yonder are the towers of the Alhambra."
"Son of a trumpet," replied the stranger, "do not trifle with me; if this
be indeed the Alhambra, I have some strange matters to reveal to the
governor."
"You will have an opportunity," said the corporal, "for we mean to take
you before him." By this time the trumpeter had seized the bridle of the
steed, the two privates had each secured an arm of the soldier, the corporal
put himself in front, gave the word, "Forward-march!e and away they marched
for the Alhambra.
The sight of a ragged foot-soldier and a fine Arabian horse, brought in
captive by the patrol, attracted the attention of all the idlers of the
fortress, and of those gossip groups that generally assemble about wells and
fountains at early dawn. The wheel of the cistern paused in its rotations, and
the slip-shod servant-maid stood gaping, with pitcher in hand, as the corporal
passed by with his prize. A motley train gradually gathered in the rear of the
escort.
Knowing nods and winks and conjectures passed from one to another. "It is
a deserter," said one. "A contrabandista," said another. "A bandalero," said
a third-until it was affirmed that a captain of a desperate band of robbers
had been captured by the prowess of the corporal and his patrol. "Well, well,"
said the old crones, one to another, "captain or not, let him get out of the
grasp of old Governor Manco if he can, though he is but one-handed."
Governor Manco was seated in one of the inner halls of the Alhambra,
taking his morning`s cup of chocolate in company with his confessor, a fat
Franciscan friar, from the neighboring convent. A demure, dark-eyed damsel
of Malaga, the daughter of his housekeeper, was attending upon him. The world
hinted that the damsel, who, with all her demureness, was a sly buxom baggage,
had found out a soft spot in the iron heart of the old governor, and held
complete control over him. But let that pass - the domestic affairs of these
mighty potentates of the earth should not be too narrowly scrutinized.
When word was brought that a suspicious stranger had been taken lurking
about the fortress, and was actually in the outer court, in durance of the
corporal, waiting the pleasure of his excellency, the pride and stateliness of
office swelled the bosom of the governor. Giving back his chocolate cup into
the hands of the demure damsel, he called for his basket-hilted sword, girded
it to his side, twirled up his mustaches, took his seat in a large high-backed
chair, assumed a bitter and forbidding aspect, and ordered the prisoner into
his presence. The soldier was brought in, still closely pinioned by his
captors, and guarded by the corporal. He maintained, however, a resolute
self-confident air, and returned the sharp, scrutinizing look of the governor
with an easy squint, which by no means pleased the punctilious old potentate.
"Well, culprit," said the governor, after he had regarded him for a
moment in silence, "what have you to say for yourself - who are you?"
"A soldier, just from the wars, who has brought away nothing but scars
and bruises."
"A soldier - humph - a foot-soldier by your garb. I understand you have a
fine Arabian horse. I presume you brought him too from the wars, besides your
scars and bruises."
"May it please your excellency, I have something strange to tell about
that horse. Indeed I have one of the most wonderful things to relate.
Something too that concerns the security of this fortress, indeed of all
Granada. But it is a matter to be imparted only to your private ear, or in
presence of such only as are in your confidence."
The governor considered for a moment, and then directed the corporal and
his men to withdraw, but to post themselves outside of the door, and be ready
at a call. "This holy friar," said he, "is my confessor, you may say any thing
in his presence - and this damsel," nodding toward the handmaid, who had
loitered with an air of great curiosity, "this damsel is of great secrecy and
discretion, and to be trusted with any thing."
The soldier gave a glance between a squint and a leer at the demure
handmaid. "I am perfectly willing," said he, "that the damsel should remain."
When all the rest had withdrawn, the soldier commenced his story. He
was a fluent, smooth-tongued varlet, and had a command of language above his
apparent rank.
"May it please your excellency," said he, "I am, as I before observed, a
soldier, and have seen some hard service, but my term of enlistment being
expired, I was discharged, not long since, from the army at Valladolid, and
set out on foot for my native village in Andalusia. Yesterday evening the sun
went down as I was traversing a great dry plain of Old Castile."
"Hold," cried the governor, "what is this you say? Old Castile is some
two or three hundred miles from this."
"Even so," replied the soldier, coolly; "I told your excellency I had
strange things to relate; but not more strange than true; as your excellency
will find, if you will deign me a patient hearing."
"Proceed, culprit," said the governor, twirling up his mustaches.
"As the sun went down," continued the soldier, "I cast my eyes about in
search of quarters for the night, but as far as my sight could reach, there
were no signs of habitation. I saw that I should have to make my bed on the
naked plain, with my knapsack for a pillow; but your excellency is an old
soldier, and knows that to one who has been in the wars, such a night`s
lodging is no great hardship."
The governor nodded assent, as he drew his pocket handkerchief out of
the basket-hilt, to drive away a fly that buzzed about his nose.
"Well, to make a long story short," continued the soldier, "I trudged
forward for several miles until I came to a bridge over a deep ravine, through
which ran a little thread of water, almost dried up by the summer heat. At
one end of the bridge was a Moorish tower, the upper end all in ruins, but a
vault in the foundation quite entire. Here, thinks I, is a good place to make
a halt; so I went down to the stream, took a hearty drink, for the water was
pure and sweet, and I was parched with thirst; then, opening my wallet, I
took out an onion and a few crusts, which were all my provisions, and seating
myself on a stone on the margin of the stream, began to make my supper,
intending afterwards to quarter myself for the night in the vault of the
tower; and capital quarters they would have been for a campaigner just from
the wars, as your excellency, who is an old soldier, may suppose."
"I have put up gladly with worse in my time," said the governor,
returning his pocket handkerchief into the hilt of his sword.
"While I was quietly crunching my crust," pursued the soldier, "I heard
something stir within the vault; I listened-it was the tramp of a horse. By
and by a man came forth from a door in the foundation of the tower, close by
the water`s edge, leading a powerful horse by the bridle. I could not well
make out what he was by the starlight. It had a suspicious look to be lurking
among the ruins of a tower, in that wild solitary place. He might be a mere
wayfarer, like myself; he might be a contrabandista; he might be a bandalero!
what of that? thank heaven and my poverty, I had nothing to lose; so I sat
still and crunched my crust.
"He led his horse to the water, close by where I was sitting, so that I
had a fair opportunity of reconnoitering him. To my surprise he was dressed
in a Moorish garb, with a cuirass of steel, and a polished skull-cap that I
distinguished by the reflection of the stars upon it. His horse, too, was
harnessed in the Morisco fashion, with great shovel stirups. He led him, as
I said, to the side of the stream, into which the animal plunged his head
almost to the eyes, and drank until I thought he would have burst.
"`Comrade,` said I, `your steed drinks well; it`s a good sign when a
horse plunges his muzzle bravely into the water.`
"`He may well drink,` said the stranger, speaking with a Moorish
accent; `it is a good year since he had his last draught.`
"`By Santiago,` said I, `that beats even the camels I have seen in
Africa. But come, you seem to be something of a soldier, will you sit down
and take part of a soldier`s fare?` In fact, I felt the want of a companion
in this lonely place, and was willing to put up with an infidel. Besides, as
your excellency well knows, a soldier is never very particular about the faith
of his company, and soldiers of all countries are comrades on peaceable
ground."
The governor again nodded assent.
"Well, as I was saying, I invited him to share my supper, such as it was,
for I could not do less in common hospitality. `I have no time to pause for
meat or drink,` said he, `I have a long journey to make before morning.`
"`In which direction?` said I.
"`Andalusia,` said he.
"`Exactly my route,` said I, `so, as you won`t stop and eat with me,
perhaps you will let me mount and ride with you. I see your horse is of a
powerful frame, I`ll warrant he`ll carry double.`
"`Agreed,` said the trooper; and it would not have been civil and
soldier-like to refuse, especially as I had offered to share my supper with
him. So up he mounted, and up I mounted behind him.
"`Hold fast,` said he, `my steed goes like the wind.`
"`Never fear me,` said I, and so off we set.
"From a walk the horse soon passed to a trot, from a trot to a gallop,
and from a gallop to a harum-scarum scamper. It seemed as if rocks, trees,
houses, every thing, flew hurry-scurry behind us.
"`What town is this?` said I.
"`Segovia,` said he; and before the word was out of his mouth, the
towers of Segovia were out of sight. We swept up the Guadarama mountains,
and down by the Escurial; and we skirted the walls of Madrid, and we scoured
away across the plains of La Mancha. In this way we went up hill and down
dale, by towers and cities, all buried in deep sleep, and across mountains,
and plains, and rivers, just glimmering in the starlight.
"To make a long story short, and not to fatigue your excellency, the
trooper suddenly pulled up on the side of a mountain. `Here we are,` said he,
`at the end of our journey.` I looked about, but could see no signs of
habitation; nothing but the mouth of a cavern. While I looked I saw multitudes
of people in Moorish dresses, some on horseback, some on foot, arriving as if
borne by the wind from all points of the compass, and hurrying into the mouth
of the cavern like bees into a hive. Before I could ask a question the trooper
struck his long Moorish spurs into the horse`s flanks, and dashed in with
the throng. We passed along a steep winding way, that descended into the very
bowels of the mountain. As we pushed on, a light began to glimmer up, by
little and little, like the first glimmerings of day, but what caused it I
could not discern. It grew stronger and stronger, and enabled me to see every
thing around. I now noticed, as we passed along, great caverns, opening to the
right and left, like halls in an arsenal. In some there were shields, and
helmets, and cuirasses, and lances, and cimeters, hanging against the walls;
in others there were great heaps of warlike munitions, and camp equipage lying
upon the ground.
"It would have done your excellency`s heart good, being an old soldier,
to have seen such grand provision for war. Then, in other caverns, there were
long rows of horsemen armed to the teeth, with lances raised and banners
unfurled, all ready for the field; but they all sat motionless in their
saddles like so many statues. In other halls were warriors sleeping on the
ground beside their horses, and foot-soldiers in groups ready to fall into the
ranks. All were in old-fashioned Moorish dresses and armor.
"Well, your excellency, to cut a long story short, we at length entered
an immense cavern, or I may say palace, of grotto work, the walls of which
seemed to be veined with gold and silver, and to sparkle with diamonds and
sapphires and all kinds of precious stones. At the upper end sat a Moorish
king on a golden throne, with his nobles on each side, and a guard of African
blacks with drawn cimeters. All the crowd that continued to flock in, and
amounted to thousands and thousands, passed one by one before his throne, each
paying homage as he passed. Some of the multitude were dressed in magnificent
robes, without stain or blemish and sparkling with jewels; others in burnished
and enamelled armor; while others were in mouldered and mildewed garments, and
in armor all battered and dented and covered with rust.
"I had hitherto held my tongue, for your excellency well knows it is not
for a soldier to ask many questions when on duty, but I could keep silent no
longer.
"`Prithee, comrade,` said I, `what is the meaning of all this?`
"`This,` said the trooper, `is a great and fearful mystery. Know, O
Christian, that you see before you the court and army of Boabdil the last king
of Granada.`
"`What is this you tell me?` cried I. `Boabdil and his court were exiled
from the land hundreds of years agone, and all died in Africa.`
"`So it is recorded in your lying chronicles,` replied the Moor; `but
know that Boabdil and the warriors who made the last struggle for Granada were
all shut up in the mountain by powerful enchantment. As for the king and army
that marched forth from Granada at the time of the surrender, they were a mere
phantom train of spirits and demons, permitted to assume those shapes to
deceive the Christian sovereigns. And furthermore let me tell you, friend,
that all Spain is a country under the power of enchantment. There is not a
mountain cave, not a lonely watchtower in the plains, nor ruined castle on the
hills, but has some spell-bound warriors sleeping from age to age within its
vaults, until the sins are expiated for which Allah permitted the dominion to
pass for a time out of the hands of the faithful. Once every year, on the eve
of St. John, they are released from enchantment, from sunset to sunrise, and
permitted to repair here to pay homage to their sovereign! and the crowds
which you beheld swarming into the cavern are Moslem warriors from their
haunts in all parts of Spain. For my own part, you saw the ruined tower of
the bridge in Old Castile, where I have now wintered and summered for many
hundred years, and where I must be back again by daybreak. As to the
battalions of horse and foot which you beheld drawn up in array in the
neighboring caverns, they are the spell-bound warriors of Granada. It is
written in the book of fate, that when the enchantment is broken, Boabdil will
descend from the mountain at the head of this army, resume his throne in the
Alhambra and his sway of Granada, and gathering together the enchanted
warriors, from all parts of Spain, will reconquer the Peninsula and restore it
to Moslem rule.`
"`And when shall this happen?` said I.
"`Allah alone knows: we had hoped the day of deliverance was at hand; but
there reigns at present a vigilant governor in the Alhambra, a stanch old
soldier, well known as Governor Manco. While such a warrior holds command of
the very outpost, and stands ready to check the first irruption from the
mountain, I fear Boabdil and his soldiery must be content to rest upon their
arms.`"
Here the governor raised himself somewhat perpendicularly, adjusted his
sword, and twirled up his mustaches.
"To make a long story short, and not to fatigue your excellency, the
trooper, having given me this account, dismounted from his steed.
"`Tarry here,` said he, `and guard my steed while I go and bow the knee
to Boabdil.` So saying, he strode away among the throng that pressed forward
to the throne.
"`What`s to be done?` thought I, when thus left to myself; `shall I wait
here until this infidel returns to whisk me off on his goblin steed, the Lord
knows where; or shall I make the most of my time and beat a retreat from this
hobgoblin community? A soldier`s mind is soon made up, as your excellency well
knows. As to the horse, he belonged to an avowed enemy of the faith and the
realm, and was a fair prize according to the rules of war. So hoisting myself
from the crupper into the saddle, I turned the reins, struck the Moorish
stirrups into the sides of the steed, and put him to make the best of his way
out of the passage by which he had entered. As we scoured by the halls where
the Moslem horsemen sat in motionless battalions, I thought I heard the clang
of armor and a hollow murmur of voices. I gave the steed another taste of the
stirrups and doubled my speed. There was now a sound behind me like a rushing
blast; I heard the clatter of a thousand hoofs; a countless throng overtook
me. I was borne along in the press, and hurled forth from the mouth of the
cavern, while thousands of shadowy forms were swept off in every direction by
the four winds of heaven.
"In the whirl and confusion of the scene I was thrown senseless to the
earth. When I came to myself I was lying on the brow of a hill, with the
Arabian steed standing beside me; for in falling, my arm had slipped within
the bridle, which, I presume, prevented his whisking off to Old Castile.
"Your excellency may easily judge of my surprise, on looking round, to
behold hedges of aloes and Indian figs and other proofs of a southern climate,
and to see a great city below me, with towers, and palaces, and a grand
cathedral.
"I descended the hill cautiously, leading my steed, for I was afraid to
mount him again, lest he should play me some slippery trick. As I descended I
met with your patrol, who let me into the secret that it was Granada that lay
before me; and that I was actually under the walls of the Alhambra, the
fortress of the redoubted Governor Manco, the terror of all enchanted Moslems.
When I heard this, I determined at once to seek your excellency, to inform you
of all that I had seen, and to warn you of the perils that surround and
undermine you, that you may take measures in time to guard your fortress, and
the kingdom itself, from this intestine army that lurks in the very bowels of
the land."
"And prithee, friend, you who are a veteran campaigner, and have seen so
much service," said the governor, "how would you advise me to proceed, in
order to prevent this evil?"
"It is not for a humble private of the ranks," said the soldier,
modestly, "to pretend to instruct a commander of your excellency`s sagacity,
but it appears to me that your excellency might cause all the caves and
entrances into the mountains to be walled up with solid mason work, so that
Boabdil and his army might be completely corked up in their subterranean
habitation. If the good father, too," added the soldier, reverently bowing to
the friar, and devoutly crossing himself, "would consecrate the barricadoes
with his blessing, and put up a few crosses and relics and images of saints,
I think they might withstand all the power of infidel enchantments."
"They doubtless would be of great avail," said the friar.
The governor now placed his arm akimbo, with his hand resting on the hilt
of his Toledo, fixed his eye upon the soldier, and gently wagging his head
from one side to the other.
"So, friend," said he, "then you really suppose I am to be gulled with
this cock-and-bull story about enchanted mountains and enchanted Moors? Hark
ye, culprit! - not another word. An old soldier you may be, but you`ll find
you have an older soldier to deal with, and one not easily outgeneralled. Ho!
guards there! put this fellow in irons."
The demure handmaid would have put in a word in favor of the prisoner,
but the governor silenced her with a look.
As they were pinioning the soldier, one of the guards felt something of
bulk in his pocket, and drawing it forth, found a long leathern purse that
appeared to be well filled. Holding it by one corner, he turned out the
contents upon the table before the governor, and never did freebooter`s bag
make more gorgeous delivery. Out tumbled rings, and jewels, and rosaries of
pearls, and sparkling diamond crosses, and a profusion of ancient golden coin,
some of which fell jingling to the floor, and rolled away to the uttermost
parts of the chamber.
For a time the functions of justice were suspended; there was a universal
scramble after the glittering fugitives. The governor alone, who was imbued
with true Spanish pride, maintained his stately decorum, though his eye
betrayed a little anxiety until the last coin and jewel was restored to the
sack.
The friar was not so calm; his whole face glowed like a furnace, and his
eyes twinkled and flashed at sight of the rosaries and crosses.
"Sacrilegious wretch that thou art!" exclaimed he; "what church or
sanctuary hast thou been plundering of these sacred relics?"
"Neither one nor the other, holy father. If they be sacrilegious spoils,
they must have been taken, in times long past, by the infidel trooper I have
mentioned. I was just going to tell his excellency when he interrupted me,
that on taking possession of the trooper`s horse, I unhooked a leathern sack
which hung at the saddle-bow, and which I presume contained the plunder of his
campaignings in days of old, when the Moors overran the country."
"Mighty well; at present you will make up your mind to take up your
quarters in a chamber of the Vermilion Tower, which, though not under a magic
spell, will hold you as safe as any cave of your enchanted Moors."
"Your excellency will do as you think proper," said the prisoner, cooly.
"I shall be thankful to your excellency for any accommodation in the fortress.
A soldier who has been in the wars, as your excellency well knows, is not
particular about his lodgings: provided I have a snug dungeon and regular
rations, I shall manage to make myself comfortable. I would only entreat that
while your excellency is so careful about me, you would have an eye to your
fortress, and think on the hint I dropped about stopping up the entrances to
the mountain."
Here ended the scene. The prisoner was conducted to a strong dungeon in
the Vermilion Tower, the Arabian steed was led to his excellency`s stable, and
the trooper`s sack was deposited in his excellency`s strong box. To the
latter, it is true, the friar made some demur, questioning whether the sacred
relics, which were evidently sacrilegious spoils, should not be placed in
custody of the church; but as the governor was peremptory on the subject, and
was absolute lord in the Alhambra, the friar discreetly dropped the
discussion, but determined to convey intelligence of the fact to the church
dignitaries in Granada.
To explain these prompt and rigid measures on the part of old Governor
Manco, it is proper to observe, that about this time the Alpuxarra mountains
in the neighborhood of Granada were terribly infested by a gang of robbers,
under the command of a daring chief named Manuel Borasco, who were accustomed
to prowl about the country, and even to enter the city in various disguises,
to gain intelligence of the departure of convoys of merchandise, or travellers
with well-lined purses, whom they took care to waylay in distant and solitary
passes of the road. These repeated and daring outrages had awakened the
attention of government, and the commanders of the various posts had received
instructions to be on the alert, and to take up all suspicious stragglers.
Governor Manco was particularly zealous in consequence of the various stigmas
that had been cast upon his fortress, and he now doubted not he had entrapped
some formidable desperado of this gang.
In the mean time the story took wind, and became the talk, not merely of
the fortress, but of the whole city of Granada. It was said that the noted
robber Manuel Borasco, the terror of the Alpuxarras, had fallen into the
clutches of old Governor Manco, and been cooped up by him in a dungeon of the
Vermilion Tower; and every one who had been robbed by him flocked to recognize
the marauder. The Vermilion Tower, as is well known, stands apart from the
Alhambra on a sister hill, separated from the main fortress by the ravine down
which passes the main avenue. There were no outer walls, but a sentinel
patrolled before the tower. The window of the chamber in which the soldier was
confined was strongly grated, and looked upon a small esplanade. Here the good
folks of Granada repaired to gaze at him, as they would at a laughing hyena,
grinning through the cage of a menagerie. Nobody, however, recognized him for
Manuel Borasco, for that terrible robber was noted for a ferocious
physiognomy, and had by no means the good-humored squint of the prisoner.
Visitors came not merely from the city, but from all parts of the country; but
nobody knew him, and there began to be doubts in the minds of the common
people whether there might not be some truth in his story. That Boabdil and
his army were shut up in the mountain, was an old tradition which many of the
ancient inhabitants had heard from their fathers. Numbers went up to the
mountain of the sun, or rather of St. Elena, in search of the cave mentioned
by the soldier; and saw and peeped into the deep dark pit, descending, no one
knows how far, into the mountain, and which remains there to this day - the
fabled entrance to the subterranean abode of Boabdil.
By degrees the soldier became popular with the common people. A
freebooter of the mountains is by no means the opprobrious character in Spain
that a robber is in any other country: on the contrary, he is a kind of
chivalrous personage in the eyes of the lower classes. There is always a
disposition, also, to cavil at the conduct of those in command, and many began
to murmur at the high-handed measures of old Governor Manco, and to look upon
the prisoner in the light of a martyr.
The soldier, moreover, was a merry, waggish fellow, that had a joke for
every one who came near his window, and a soft speech for every female. He had
procured an old guitar also, and would sit by his window and sing ballads and
love-ditties to the delight of the women of the neighborhood, who would
assemble on the esplanade in the evening and dance boleros to his music.
Having trimmed off his rough beard, his sunburnt face found favor in the eyes
of the fair, and the demure handmaid of the governor declared that his squint
was perfectly irresistible. This kind-hearted damsel had from the first
evinced a deep sympathy in his fortunes, and having in vain tried to mollify
the governor, had set to work privately to mitigate the rigor of his
dispensations. Every day she brought the prisoner some crumbs of comfort which
had fallen from the governor`s table, or been abstracted from his larder,
together with, now and then, a consoling bottle of choice Val de Penas, or
rich Malaga.
While this petty treason was going on, in the very centre of the old
governor`s citadel, a storm of open war was brewing up among his external
foes. The circumstance of a bag of gold and jewels having been found upon the
person of the supposed robber, had been reported, with many exaggerations,
in Granada. A question of territorial jurisdiction was immediately started
by the governor`s inveterate rival, the captain-general. He insisted that the
prisoner had been captured without the precincts of the Alhambra, and within
the rules of his authority. He demanded his body therefore, and the spolia
opima taken with him. Due information having been carried likewise by the
friar to the grand inquisitor of the crosses and rosaries, and other relics
contained in the bag, he claimed the culprit as having been guilty of
sacrilege, and insisted that his plunder was due to the church, and his body
to the next auto-da-fe. The feuds ran high; the governor was furious, and
swore, rather than surrender his captive, he would hang him up within the
Alhambra, as a spy caught within the purlieus of the fortress.
The captain-general threatened to send a body of soldiers to transfer
the prisoner from the Vermilion Tower to the city. The grand inquisitor was
equally bent upon dispatching a number of the familiars of the Holy Office.
Word was brought late at night to the governor of these machinations. "Let
them come," said he, "they`ll find me beforehand with them; he must rise
bright and early who would take in an old soldier." He accordingly issued
orders to have the prisoner removed, at daybreak, to the donjon keep within
the walls of the Alhambra. "And d`ye hear, child," said he to his demure
handmaid, "tap at my door, and wake me before cock-crowing, that I may see to
the matter myself."
The day dawned, the cock crowed, but nobody tapped at the door of the
governor. The sun rose high above the mountain-tops, and glittered in at his
casement, ere the governor was awakened from his morning dreams by his veteran
corporal, who stood before him with terror stamped upon his iron visage.
"He`s off! he`s gone!" cried the corporal, gasping for breath.
"Who`s off - who`s gone?"
"The soldier - the robber - the devil, for aught I know; his dungeon is
empty, but the door locked: no one knows how he has escaped out of it."
"Who saw him last?"
"Your handmaid, she brought him his supper."
"Let her be called instantly."
Here was new matter of confusion. The chamber of the demure damsel was
likewise empty, her bed had not been slept in: she had doubtless gone off
with the culprit, as she had appeared, for some days past, to have frequent
conversations with him.
This was wounding the old governor in a tender part, but he had scarce
time to wince at it, when new misfortunes broke upon his view. On going into
his cabinet he found his strong box open, the leather purse of the trooper
abstracted, and with it, a couple of corpulent bags of doubloons.
But how, and which way had the fugitives escaped? An old peasant who
lived in a cottage by the road-side, leading up into the Sierra, declared
that he had heard the tramp of a powerful steed just before daybreak,
passing up into the mountains. He had looked out at his casement, and could
just distinguish a horseman, with a female seated before him.
"Search the stables!" cried Governor Manco. The stables were searched;
all the horses were in their stalls, excepting the Arabian steed. In his
place was a stout cudgel tied to the manger, and on it a label bearing these
words, "A gift to Governor Manco, from an Old Soldier."
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