 | The works of Washington Irving |  |
GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE
SOLDIER.
When 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 Moresco
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 humour.
Having answered the question 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 di Dios! can it
be possible?"
"Perhaps not!" rejoined the trumpeter;
"and perhaps you have no idea
that younder 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!" 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 neighbouring convent. A
demure, dark-eyed damself 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 mustachios, 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, beside
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 the 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 towards 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
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 mustachios.
"As the sun went down," continued
the soldier, "I cast my eyes about in
search of some quarters for the night,
but 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 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 crusts.
"He led his horse to the water, close
by where I was sitting, so that I had a
fair opportunity of reconnoitring him.
To my surprise he was dressed in a
Moorish garb, with a cuirass of steel,
and a polished skullcap, that I distinguished
by the reflection of the stars
upon it. His horse, too, was harnessed
in the Moresco fashion, with great shovel
stirrups. 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 that 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 do no 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 wall; 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 armour.
"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
armour; while others were in
mouldered and mildewed garments, and
in armour 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.
" `Pr'ythee, 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.
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 spellbound 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 behold 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
behold drawn up in array in the neighbouring
caverns, they are spellbound
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 staunch old soldier,
well known as Governor Manco. While
such a warrior bolds command of the
very outpost, and stands ready to check
the 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 mustachios.
"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 knce 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 armour
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 slipt within the
bridle, which, I presume, prevented his
whisking off to Old Castile.
"Your excellency may easily judge of
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 prythee, 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 mountain
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 fefw
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
a-kimbo 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
out-generalled. Ho! guards there! put
this fellow in irons."
The demure handmaid would have put
in a word in favour 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 part 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 he 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 saddlebow, 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
Towers, 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, coolly. "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 Towers, 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
neighbourhood 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
their 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 that 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
Towers; and every one who had been
robbed by him flocked to recognise the
marauder. The Vermilion Towers, as
is well known, stand apart from the Alhambra
on a sister hill, separated from
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, recognised him for
Manuel Borasco, for that terrible robber
was noted for a ferocious physiognomy,
and had by no means the good-humoured
squint of the prisoner. Visiters 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 neighbourhood, who would assemble
on the esplanade in the evenings and
dance boleros to his music. Having
trimmed off his rough beard, his sunburnt
face found favour 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
rigour 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 Peñas,
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 fé. 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 Towers to the city.
The grand inquisitor was equally bent
upon despatching 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 wakened 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 roadside, leading
up into the Sierra, declared that he
had heard the tramp of a powerful steed
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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