(1/3) Go Saddle the Sea (11 page)

BOOK: (1/3) Go Saddle the Sea
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From Bernie I had heard fearful tales of those galleys.

Ay de mi!
Now I wonder if it might not have been better to stay at Villaverde.

I spent the rest of that day in a very low frame of mind. Through my misery I began to observe how, at certain hours, the relatives of prisoners were allowed in, with food and necessaries for them. The best-served were a group of men in one corner, who, indeed, hardly bore the appearance of prisoners—their shirts were snowy white, their short waistcoats were made of velvet with silver buttons, they wore wide
trousers and gaily colored scarves and sashes round their heads and waists. They laughed and talked and played cards with the greatest gaiety and unconcern, and, at visiting time, they were attended by a whole troop of beautiful girls who brought them wine, fruit, bread, sausages, and all kinds of delicacies.

"Are those lords?" I whispered to my neighbor, an old man who lay propped against the wall on a kind of cushion, and who looked very ill.

"No, my boy, they are
gente de reputación
—thieves, bandits, assassins."

I was amazed. I had thought them to be nobles, perhaps imprisoned for political crime. It was plain that they considered themselves of superior consequence to all other prisoners there, for they ordered the rest about with the utmost arrogance. Even the turnkeys appeared to treat them with respect.

During the afternoon I was startled to hear a loud, deep voice at my elbow suddenly announce the hour:

"Three o'clock!"

Turning sharp around, I saw that this voice came from a green parrot which sat composedly on the old man's wrist.

"That is Asistenta, my companion," the old man said, smiling a little at my surprise. "I taught her to tell the time, by means of the movement of the shadows cast by the window bars, and she can do it most exactly. Indeed she is now better than a sundial, for she seems to carry the hour inside her, and has never been known to make a mistake."

I stroked and admired the bird, who turned her head about in a self-satisfied manner and chuckled.

"Would she like to hear a tune on my pipe, do you suppose?" I asked the old man.

"We should both enjoy it," he said. "She would, and I would."

So I played a number of tunes, not loud, for fear of attracting angry attention from the other prisoners; though indeed there was such a volume of noise, each man talking to his neighbor at the top of his lungs, that I might have blown a trumpet without it being remarked. However, my music pleased the old man and delighted the parrot, who stood up on her tiptoes, opening and closing her wings repeatedly at the sound of it.

Toward evening, greatly to my surprise, who should come toward me, carrying with him a loaf of bread and a big earthenware dish of peas, beans, beef, and bacon, but that same gypsy who had bought my horse and reported me to the
alcalde
! I could hardly believe he was making for me, until he squatted down beside me and said, "Here, little brother. This is for you."

"Why do
you
bring me food?" I demanded in astonishment.

"Why? Because you are a stranger in this town and have no friends. Eat, eat!"

I invited the old man, who seemed to have no friends either, to dip into my stew, but he said he was too old to be hungry, and that his granddaughter would bring him some milk presently.

"Moreover, I am not going to live long; food is wasted on me. But Asistenta would be glad to have some of your
garbanzos.'
"

So the parrot sat on my wrist and had some peas. Meanwhile the gypsy squatting beside me said confidentially in my ear, "Listen, little brother! I can get you out of this place if you will tell me your secret."

"What secret? I have no secret!"

"
Ay, Dios mío!
You were with those two men, Señor Smith, the English deserter, whose stepdaughter's address you carried in your pocket—I saw it, when the
alcalde
unfolded it—and the other, Manolo Candelas, one of the most notorious bandits in Spain, whose horse you sold me—and you say you have no secret! Why, it is' common knowledge that those two men knew the whereabouts of a huge treasure lost by the English army on their way to La Coruña—and you were with them and you say you have no secret! What kind of a fool do you think I am?"

"They did not tell their secret to me!"

Nevertheless, for almost an hour he continued pestering and questioning me, asking over and over again where the treasure lay hidden. At last, however, he became convinced that I really did not know, and he stood up, very angry.

"I have wasted my time on you. You may stay here till moss grows,over you, for all I care!"

He had hardly gone when an
alguacil-caraz
to conduct me to the
alcalde.
I followed, full of hope and fear.

This time I found myself alone with the
alcalde
in his office, and he came to the point at once.

"Boy, I have reason to believe that the man whose horse you sold had previously entrusted to you a very important piece of information: the knowledge of the whereabouts of the load of gold dollars which was lost during the English retreat to La Coruna..."

"No, señor, he did not," I cut in with a good deal of impatience. "Nor do I know why anybody should think he did! I am utterly ignorant of the whereabouts of this treasure, and have no wish at all to know anything about it."

"I do not believe you! It is your duty to lay that knowledge before the authorities."

Just like the gypsy, the
alcalde
was most unwilling to believe that I could tell him nothing, and he questioned me with great skill and cunning, doing his best to lay traps for me, until I quite lost my temper.

"The good God knows why you should all think I have this secret! Is it likely that those men would tell
me
such a thing—the very thing they would wish to keep to themselves?"

The
alcalde
leaned forward, looking at me sharply. An angry spark burned in his deep eye sockets.

"Have a care, boy!" said he. "I could order you to be flogged for insolence."

"It would make no difference. I do not know."

After a pause he said more coolly, "I begin to believe you. Only a simpleton would show such a disregard for his skin.—Take him back to the
calabozoT
he shouted to an attendant outside the door, and to me, "I warn you, you are likely to remain in here for a very long time."

Burning with rage and injustice, I suffered myself to be led back. I remembered how I had felt when I lit my grandfather's hayricks. I would have liked to set fire to this whole place.

The old man nodded to me in a friendly way and I settled down again in the spot next him, which he had kept for me, but I was not allowed to remain in peace for long. One of the
rateros
came over to say that the chief wished to speak to me.

This man was the finest and most elegant of the whole band, with a blue silk waistcoat, Turkish trousers, silk stockings, and soft black slippers; in contrast to all this foppery he had a long, savage-looking knife stuck in his scarlet girdle, and a terrible scar that crossed his face from brow to ear. He, too, wished to question me about the treasure, and was even more pertinacious than the other two had been; indeed the whole group stood round me in a ring, repeating their questions over and over, until I quaked for my skin.

At last I cried out roundly and furiously that they could cut me in pieces but it would do them no good, for I could not pass on information that I did not possess, even should I wish to. Convinced at last by this—or apparently so—the
ratero
chief allowed me to return to my corner.

Visitors were now mingling freely with the prisoners, for it was the supper hour. Some were in the
calabozo,
others outside walking in the court. My old man, I saw, was being attended by a young, gentle-looking girl, his granddaughter no doubt. She had brought him clean linen, a towel, and a clean cover for his cushion. Out of delicacy I would have stayed at a distance, but he beckoned me to come.

"This is my grandchild Frasquita," he said. "She is a good girl! Although she lives a league outside Oviedo, in the village of Lugones, she comes with food every day, and brings me clean linen twice a week. She keeps me as fine as any of those dandies over there."

Frasquita smiled at him—she wis a short, plump, round-faced girl, about my height—and said, "Who would not, for such a kind grandfather?"

"Well, you will not have to do it for much longer," he said, "for I can feel my death overtaking me in swift strides.—You will not need to come again, my dearest child. Run along now, and God go with you."

When he had kissed her and she had gone sorrowfully away, he looked at me and smiled, as if at his own thoughts. He said, "I wished to see you standing beside Frasquita in order to be certain of something; and it is just as I thought: You could be brother and sister."

I was puzzled.

"Señor, I do not understand you."

"Listen,
hijo,
" he said, "I can see it is not healthy for you here. I do not meddle—but I can see that too many people are after you for something that they think you have."

"I do
not
have it!" I said angrily. Was he about to prove another of them?

But he said, "As to that, I do not care—I am going to die tonight in any case. I feel Death in my bones—I know it is coming."

Remembering Bernie, I looked at him carefully and thought, with sorrow, that he was probably right.

"I am going to die," he said, "and I have a wish that my parrot shall not be left in this stinking hole without me. Somebody would probably eat her for breakfast! Listen—stoop closer—I asked Frasquita to leave her cloak and hood behind. It is a warm evening—I told her to wrap the towel round her shoulders instead of a cloak. Now,
hijo,
you squat down and put on the hood; no one is looking this way, they are all talking to their visitors. Very good: Now wrap the cloak round you. Excellent! You could be a girl setting off for the market. Now: Take the parrot on your wrist. Everybody knows Asistenta. Frasquita has often taken her out for an airing. Good: Now run along! Keep quite calm; don't look to right or left but straight ahead; and good luck to you!"

"But, señor—"

"Don't delay," he said, "or the visitors will all have gone and then you will be in trouble. At present many are going—you will slip out unobserved among them. Leave the parrot, if you will be so good, with Frasquita, who lives in the third house on the left after you cross the bridge into Lugones—"

"Oh, of course, senor, I will do that—"

"Good boy," he said. "Be off with you then.
Vaya con Dios.
"

So I left him, and walked out with the rest of the visitors, trying to look quite calm and unconcerned, though my heart was banging to and fro like the pendulum of the great clock in Compostela.

Nobody spared me a glance, however, and I got out of the jail without the least difficulty. Once out, and away from the main square, I ran like a hare back to the
posada.
There, by the goodness of God, the master of the house was from home, and only the skinny boy remained, sweeping the courtyard. He seemed startled to death at sight of me, and I remembered that I was still wearing the girl's cloak and hood.

"Why, it's
you
?" he gasped, when I took off the hood. "The
alguacils
were here inquiring about you this morning, and they said you had been thrown in prison; lucidly Master was asleep, so I did not tell them your mule was here or they would very likely have taken it. How did you manage to escape?"

I said that a friend had helped me, and I had better leave the town straightway, and what was to pay for my and the mule's lodging?

"Nothing, nothing!" said he. "Only play me another tune on your pipe!"

However, as the inn was his master's rather than his, I persuaded him to take a few coins. Then, after leading the mule into the street—so as not to be caught in a corner—I played him three or four tunes, and he, as before, danced about like a lunatic, in an ecstasy of
joy. At last I said I must go, tied on my saddlebags—which he had hidden in the stable—and left him with his brow puckered and his cheeks hollow, trying to whistle the tunes that I had played. -

Not daring to ask the way, in spite of my girl's hood, I had some trouble finding the right road out of Oviedo, which is a most confusing town. At last, by good luck, I chanced on a sign that said "Santander," and following its direction, struck eastward. I was greatly delighted at being reunited with my bad-tempered mule and my belongings, but very much saddened at the thought of the poor old man left to die in jail without even his parrot.

Also I was much alarmed by this false notion about the treasure which seemed to have become attached to me, and wondered if I should encounter any more dangers because of it.

A
FTER
about an hour's ride
I
came to the small village of Lugones. By now it was dark: a mild, misty night. The mule clip-clopped across a bridge, the stones of which rang hollowly under her hoofs, and
I
could hear the gentle babble of a river below. The village was < quiet and dark, smelling of wet thatch, wet stone, and horse dung. How sweet that seemed, after the stench of the prison!

I counted three houses on my left, and knocked at a door under which a faint thread of light showed golden.

When, after a pause, a frightened voice cried, "Who's there?" I answered softly, "This is a friend. I have brought Asistenta."

The door opened suddenly, and I saw a woman standing outlined against the dim light.

"
Ay,
mother of God!" she exclaimed, seeing the parrot on my wrist. The girl whom I had seen in the jail came swiftly up behind her.

"Señorita Frasquita, I have brought back your cloak and hood, and your grandfather's parrot," I said to her. "I am deeply grateful to you for the loan of all three. Without them I should still be in that jail, which I had done nothing to deserve, for I have not committed any crime."

BOOK: (1/3) Go Saddle the Sea
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