The Catholic World Volume Iii Part 141

They heard at this moment a peculiar whistle. The innkeeper, springing to his feet, caught up the light and ran toward the door, exclaiming, "The captain!"

As he presented himself on the threshold, the rays of the lamp fell upon a man on horseback, with another man that looked like a corpse lying across the horse in front of him.

"Help me take this fellow down," said the rider, in the rough tone of a man of few words.

The innkeeper handed the lamp to his wife, who had approached, and made haste to obey.

"Mercy to us! A dead man!" said she. "For the love of the Blessed Mother, sir, do not leave him in our house!"

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"He is not dead," said the horseman, "he is sick; nurse him up--that is what women ore good for. Here is money to pay for the cure."

Saying this, he threw down a piece of gold, and disappeared, the resounding and measured gallop of his horse dying away gradually in the distance.

"If this is not a cool proceeding!" grumbled Martha. "What will you bet that he, with his own hands, has not put the man in this state?

and he takes himself off and leaves him on ours! 'You cure him!' as if it were nothing to cure a man who is dead or dying! As if this inn were an hospital! The bully thinks he has only to command, as if he were the king!"

"Hush!" exclaimed the innkeeper, alarmed, "_will_ you be still, long-tongue! Talk that way of Diego! Women are the very devil! What is the use of grumbling, since you know there is nothing for it but to do as these people tell us! Besides, this is a work of charity, so let's be about it."

They prepared, as well as they could, a bed in a garret.

"He has no sign of blow or wound," said Andres, as he was undressing the patient; "so you see, wife, it is a sickness like any other."

"Look, look, Andres!" exclaimed Martha; "he has the scapular of our Lady of Carmel around his neck."

And as if the sight or influence of the blessed object had awakened in her all the gentle sentiments of Christian humility, or as if the sacred precept, "Thy neighbor as thyself," uttered by the brotherhood in united devotion, had resounded clearly, she began to exclaim: "You were right, Andres, it is a work of charity to a.s.sist him, poor fellow! How young he is, and how forsaken! His poor mother! Come, come, Andres, what are you doing, standing there like a post? Go!

hurry! bring me some wine to rub his temples; and kill a hen, for I am going to make him some broth."

"So it is," soliloquized Andres, as he went out--"at first, wouldn't have him in the house; now she will turn the house out of the windows for him. That's the way with women. It is hard to understand them."

On the following night, a man of evil face and repugnant aspect came to the inn. This man had been in the penitentiary, and was nicknamed the convict.

"G.o.d be with you, sir," said the innkeeper, with more fear than cordiality, "what might be your pleasure?"

"A whim of the captain's, curse him! for haven't I come to ask after the sick, like the porter of a convent?"

"He is not doing very well," answered the innkeeper; "he is in a raging fever, is out of his mind, and talks of a murder he has done--of dead men's heads."

"Ho! so then he is a man that can handle arms," said the convict.

"Let's have a look at him."

They mounted to the garret, and the innkeeper continued:

"All day long I have been in a cold sweat with fear. There have been people in the house, and even soldiers--if they had heard him!"

The convict, who had been examining the delicate and wasted form of Perico, interrupted with a movement of disdain.

"Well, if he makes too much noise for you, quarter him upon the king."

[Footnote 186]

[Footnote 186: Put him into the street.]

"No, indeed!" cried Martha, "poor unfortunate! I have a son in America who may be at this very hour in the same condition, abandoned by every one, and calling, as this one calls, for his mother. No, no, sir, we shall not desert him. Neither Our Lady, whose scapular he wears, nor I."

"Buy him sweetmeats," said the convict, and went down.

"What news?' he asked of the innkeeper.

"They say that a reward is to be offered for Diego's head."

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"What?" asked the convict again, with quick and unusual interest. The innkeeper repeated what he had said. The convict considered a moment, and then continued,

"Where do they think we are?"

"Near Despenaperros."

"Are they after us?"

"Yes, there is a cavalry company at Sevilla, one of infantry at Cordoba, and another of the mountain soldiery at Utrera."

"There will be some shoes worn out before they see our faces, and if they do get to see them it will cost them dear."

"Yes, yes," Andres replied; "we know that whoever puts himself in Diego's way may as well look for his grave; but then--there may be so many of them ..."

"Perhaps you would like to get a crack of my fist on your bugle?" said the bandit.

"Not at all," said Andres, retreating a step or two.

"Put more ballast in your tongue then--and hurry up with the bread --quick now!"

Andres hastened to obey. The bandit was going away when he heard Martha's voice calling after him.

"It slipped my mind--you take this money," she said, handing him the piece of gold. "Give it to the captain, and tell him that what I do for this lad I do for charity, and not for interest."

"I shall be sure to give him such a reason. He accepts 'No' neither when he says give, nor when he says take; but to settle it between you, I will keep the money;" and setting spurs to his horse, he disappeared.

"You have done a wise thing!" said the innkeeper impatiently. "Will the money, you foolish good-for-nothing, be better in the hands of that big thief than in ours? Women!--ill hap to them! Only the devil understands them."

"I understand myself and G.o.d understands me," said the good woman, returning to the garret.

CHAPTER XI.

The care of the innkeeper's wife and the youth and robust const.i.tution of Perico vanquished the fever. At the end of a fortnight he was able to rise.