University of Virginia Library

THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON.

There was once upon a time a poor mason, or
bricklayer in Granada, who kept all the saints'
days and holydays, and saint Monday into the bargain,
and yet, with all his devotion, he grew poorer

and poorer, and could scarcely earn bread for
his numerous family. One night he was roused
from his first sleep by a knocking at his door. He
opened it and beheld before him a tall meagre cadaverous
looking priest. “Hark ye, honest friend,”
said the stranger, “I have observed that you are
a good Christian, and one to be trusted; will you
undertake a job this very night?”

“With all my heart, Señor Padre, on condition
that I am paid accordingly.”

“That you shall be, but you must suffer yourself
to be blindfolded.”

To this the mason made no objection; so being
hoodwinked, he was led by the priest through various
rough lanes and winding passages until they
stopped before the portal of a house. The priest
then applied a key, turned a creaking lock and
opened what sounded like a ponderous door. They
entered, the door was closed and bolted, and the
mason was conducted through an echoing corridor
and spacious hall, to an interior part of the building.
Here the bandage was removed from his
eyes, and he found himself in a patio, or court, dimly
lighted by a single lamp.

In the centre was the dry basin of an old Moorish
fountain, under which the priest requested him

to form a small vault, bricks and mortar being at
hand for the purpose. He accordingly worked all
night, but without finishing the job. Just before
day-break the priest put a piece of gold into his
hand, and having again blindfolded him, conducted
him back to his dwelling.

“Are you willing,” said he, “to return and complete
your work?”

“Gladly, Señor Padre, provided I am as well
paid.”

“Well then, to-morrow at midnight I will call
again.”

He did so, and the vault was completed. “Now,”
said the priest, “you must help me to bring forth
the bodies that are to be buried in this vault.”

The poor mason's hair rose on his head at these
words; he followed the priest with trembling steps,
into a retired chamber of the mansion, expecting
to behold some ghastly spectacle of death, but was
relieved, on perceiving three or four portly jars
standing in one corner. They were evidently full
of money, and it was with great labour that he
and the priest carried them forth and consigned
them to their tomb. The vault was then closed,
the pavement replaced and all traces of the work
obliterated.

The mason was again hoodwinked and led forth
by a route different from that by which he had
come. After they had wandered for a long time
through a perplexed maze of lanes and alleys,
they halted. The priest then put two pieces of
gold into his hand. “Wait here,” said he, “until
you hear the cathedral bell toll for matins. If you
presume to uncover your eyes before that time.
evil will befal you.” So saying he departed.

The mason waited faithfully, amusing himself
by weighing the gold pieces in his hand and clinking
them against each other. The moment the
cathedral bell rung its matin peal, he uncovered
his eyes and found himself on the banks of the Xenil;
from whence he made the best of his way
home, and revelled with his family for a whole
fortnight on the profits of his two nights' work,
after which he was as poor as ever.

He continued to work a little and pray a good
deal, and keep holydays and saints' days from year
to year, while his family grew up as gaunt and
ragged as a crew of gipsies.

As he was seated one morning at the door of
his hovel, he was accosted by a rich old curmudgeon
who was noted for owning many houses and
being a griping landlord.

The man of money eyed him for a moment, from
beneath a pair of shagged eye-brows.

“I am told, friend, that you are very poor.”

“There is no denying the fact, Señor; it speaks
for itself.”

“I presume, then, you will be glad of a job, and
will work cheap.”

“As cheap, my master, as any mason in Granada.”

“That's what I want. I have an old house
fallen to decay, that costs me more money than it
is worth to keep it in repair, for nobody will live
in it; so I must contrive to patch it up and keep
it together at as small expense as possible.”

The mason was accordingly conducted to a huge
deserted house that seemed going to ruin. Passing
through several empty halls and chambers, he entered
an inner court where his eye was caught by
an old Moorish fountain.

He paused for a moment. “It seems,” said he, “as
if I had been in this place before; but it is like a
dream—Pray who occupied this house formerly?”

“A pest upon him!” cried the landlord. “It
was an old miserly priest, who cared for nobody
but himself. He was said to be immensely rich,
and, having no relations, it was thought he would

leave all his treasure to the church. He died
suddenly, and the priests and friars thronged to
take possession of his wealth, but nothing could
they find but a few ducats in a leathern purse.
The worst luck has fallen on me; for since his
death, the old fellow continues to occupy my house
without paying rent, and there's no taking the law
of a dead man. The people pretend to hear at
night the clinking of gold all night long in the
chamber where the old priest slept, as if he were
counting over his money, and sometimes a groaning
and moaning about the court. Whether true
or false, these stories have brought a bad name
on my house, and not a tenant will remain in it.”

“Enough,” said the mason sturdily—“Let me
live in your house rent free until some better tenant
presents, and I will engage to put it in repair
and quiet the troubled spirits that disturb it. I
am a good Christian and a poor man, and am not
to be daunted by the devil himself, even though
he come in the shape of a big bag of money.”

The offer of the honest mason was gladly accepted;
he moved with his family into the house,
and fulfilled all his engagements. By little and
little he restored it to its former state. The clinking
of gold was no longer heard at night in the

chamber of the defunct priest, but began to be
heard by day in the pocket of the living mason.
In a word, he increased rapidly in wealth, to the
admiration of all his neighbours, and became one of
the richest men in Granada. He gave large sums
to the church, by way, no doubt, of satisfying his
conscience, and never revealed the secret of the
wealth until on his death-bed, to his son and heir.