The Manuscript Found in Saragossa (50 page)

The old man turned towards me and said in a soft voice, ‘Welcome, Señor Alphonse, we have been waiting for you for some time.'

I asked him whether we were in the underground domain of Cassar Gomelez.

‘You are not mistaken, noble Nazarene,' said the dervish. ‘This tomb hides the famous secret of the Gomelez. But before I tell you anything about this important subject, let me offer you a light tonic. Today you will need all your spiritual and physical powers. And perhaps,' he added in a mocking tone, ‘your body will be craving for rest.'

Then the old man led me into a neighbouring cave, where I found breakfast properly set out on a table. When I had taken refreshment my host asked me to pay close attention and said:

‘Señor Alphonse, I know that your fair cousins have spoken to you of your ancestors and have explained the importance they attached to Cassar Gomelez's secret. Nothing in the world could be more important. He who possesses our secret could easily bring whole peoples under his sway, and perhaps even found a universal monarchy. On the other hand, these powerful means could become extremely dangerous in incautious hands, and destroy any order founded for a long time on obedience. The laws which have governed us for centuries require that the secret should only be revealed to men of the blood of
the Gomelez, and then only after they have provided convincing proof of their courage and integrity. Equally, it is required that a solemn oath reinforced by the full authority of religious ceremony be sworn. But knowing your character we will be satisfied with your word alone. May I therefore ask you to swear on your honour never to reveal to a living soul what you will hear and see in this place?'

As I was in the service of the King of Spain, I felt at first unable to give my word of honour, before being assured that I would not have to hear or see things in that cave which were incompatible with that dignity. I expressed my reservations to the dervish.

‘Your caution, Señor, is quite understandable,' replied the dervish. ‘Your arm belongs to the king whom you serve, but you are here in underground domains into which his power has never extended. The line of which you were born also imposes duties on you. And the promise which I ask of you is only the extension of that which you made to your cousins.'

I concurred with this reasoning, even though it seemed somewhat odd, and gave the word of honour which was expected of me.

Then the dervish opened up one face of the tomb and showed me a staircase which led to even greater depths.

‘Go down there,' he said. ‘It isn't necessary for me to accompany you. I'll come to fetch you this evening.'

So I went down and saw things which I would most happily tell you about if the word I gave did not constitute an insurmountable obstacle to my doing so.

Just as he promised, the dervish came to fetch me that evening. We made our way together to another cave in which a dinner had been prepared for us. The table was placed under a golden tree representing the genealogy of the Gomelez. The trunk split into two major branches, one of which, the Muslim Gomelez, seemed to unfold and flourish with all the force of a vigorous plant, while the other, representing the Christian Gomelez, was visibly withering and bristled with long and menacing pointed thorns. After dinner the dervish said:

‘Don't be surprised at the difference you can see between the two principal branches. The Gomelez who remained faithful to the law of the prophet were rewarded with crowns, while the others lived in obscurity and only fulfilled some minor public offices. None of those
were admitted to our secret, and if an exception has been made in your case you owe it to the respect due to you for having been able to win the favours of the two Princesses of Tunis. For all that, you have only a dim notion of our policies. If you are willing to cross over to the other branch, which is blossoming and which will blossom more and more as time goes by, you would possess all that you need to satisfy your personal ambitions and accomplish vast projects.'

I tried to reply to this but the dervish did not allow me the room to utter a single word and went on:

‘Be that as it may, a share of the possessions of your family falls to you, as does a reward for the trouble you have taken in coming to this underground place. Here is a bill of exchange drawn up in the name of Esteban Moro, the richest banker in Madrid. The sum which figures there is apparently only one thousand reals but a single secret stroke of the pen will turn it into an unlimited amount. On signing it you will be given as much as you ask for. Now take the spiral staircase, and when you have counted to 1,500 steps you will reach a very low chamber in which you will crawl for fifty paces. Then you will be in the very heart of the castle of Alcassar or Cassar Gomelez. It will be best for you to spend the night there. The next day you will easily find the gypsy camp at the bottom of the mountain. Goodbye, dear Alphonse. May the prophet enlighten you and show you the path of truth.'

The dervish kissed me, took his leave and closed the door behind me. I followed his instructions to the letter. As I went up, I stopped often to catch my breath. Eventually I saw the starry sky above me. I lay down beneath a ruined vault and fell asleep.

Once we were on horseback the cabbalist said, ‘On this occasion, I can promise you that we shall have the pleasure today of the Wandering Jew's conversation. My power has not yet been destroyed, as the rascal thinks it has been. He had almost reached Taroudant when I forced him to come back. He is showing his unwillingness by travelling as slowly as he can. But I have the means of making him go faster.' Then he drew a book from his pocket from which he read out some barbaric formulae. Soon after, we saw a man appear on a mountain top.

‘Look at him,' said Uzeda. ‘The sloth! The scoundrel! Just see how I'll deal with him!'

Rebecca begged pardon for the guilty party and her brother seemed to be mollified. When the Wandering Jew reached us he was let off with a few sharp reproaches uttered by the cabbalist in a language I did not understand. Then he told him to stay by my horse and take up the story again at the point where he had left off. The unhappy wanderer made no reply and began as follows:

But after the kingdom of the Jews had been divided up and invaded, becoming the plaything of neighbouring powers, and above all when the people were led into captivity, the prophets consoled them by telling them that one day a king would be born of the race of David who would humble the pride of Babylon and make the Jews triumphant.

It didn't cost the prophets anything to have visions of splendid buildings, so they duly built a future Jerusalem worthy of being the place where so great a king would dwell, with a temple that had all that was needed to give the cult of religion dignity in the eyes of the people. The Jews listened to the prophecies with pleasure but without attaching much importance to them. After all, why should they show an interest in events which were not destined to happen until the time of the grandchildren of their great-nephews?

It seems that the prophets were more or less forgotten under the Macedonian empire, so that none of the Maccabees were considered as the Messiah although they had freed their country from foreign oppression. Their descendants, who bore the title of king, were also not taken to have been foretold by the prophets.

But under the elder Herod, things were different. Having in forty years run through all the flattering remarks that might please him, this prince's courtiers ended up by convincing him that he was the Messiah foretold by the prophets. Herod, who was tired of everything except the supreme power to which he grew daily more attached, thought that he had found in this claim a way of identifying those
who were loyal to him. So his friends formed a sect of Herodians whose head was the swindler Sedekias, the younger brother of my grandmother. You can well imagine that my grandfather and Dellius gave no more thought to settling down in Jerusalem. They had a small bronze chest made, and in it they locked the contract of sale of Hillel's house, his receipt for thirty thousand darics and an assignment made by Dellius in favour of my father. Then they sealed the coffer and promised each other to think no more about it until circumstances were more favourable.

Herod died and Judaea was prey to the most awful internal strife. Thirty heads of factions had themselves anointed and became as many messiahs. Some years later, Mardochee married the daughter of one of his neighbours and I, the sole fruit of this union, came into the world in the last year of Augustus's reign. My grandfather wanted to have the satisfaction of circumcising me himself, and he ordered a quite sumptuous feast to be prepared, but he was in the habit of living a retired life. The energy he had to expend on this occasion and perhaps also his great age were the early causes of an illness which carried him off within a few weeks. He breathed his last in the arms of Dellius, recommending that he should preserve the bronze coffer for us and not allow the evil–doer to benefit from his wickedness. My mother, whose labour had been difficult, only survived her father-in-law by a few months.

At that time it was the fashion among the Jews to take Greek or Persian names. I was called Ahasuerus. It was by this name that I made myself known to Antònius Colterus in Lübeck in 1603, as can be seen in the writings of Duduleus, and I also took this name in Cambridge in the year 1710, as you can read in the works of the discerning Tenzelius.