The Catholic World Volume Iii Part 113

"And why not," exclaimed Pedro, "for the best? for all except my kids and your fowls, which are going to give up the ghost within a month, the time it will take to publish the bans."

"Don't be so hasty," answered Anna, smiling, "a wedding, neighbor, is not a fritter to be turned, tossed, and fried in a moment."

"Well, 'every owl to his own olive,'" said Pedro after a while. "Good people, there is a wicket in the street that is tired of being solitary."

"To-night, Uncle Pedro," said Rita, laughing, "the horrors will go to the bottom of the well with the Frenchman, never to return."

"Amen, amen. I hope so," responded the good old man.

CHAPTER IX.

The next evening, Ventura brought with him to their reunion a small black water-dog, called Tambor. Never before had a strange dog been permitted at one of those meetings, so that he had hardly entered, wagging his tail, well washed, well combed, and with all the confidence of an exquisite, when Melampo, who held these graces to be of very little consequence, and an idler in lowest estimation, flew at him with might and main, and with a single blow of his paw flattened the creature; but without the remotest ambition to affect in this action, either the att.i.tude or the air of the lion of Waterloo.

"In the first place," said Perico, "will you tell me, Ventura, how you managed to appear here yesterday, as if you had leaked through the roof, without any one's opening the door to you?"

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"Well, it is difficult to guess," answered Ventura. "When I arrived I went to the house, and Aunty Curra, to whom my father gives a home for taking care of him, opened the door, and to get here sooner, and take you all by surprise, I jumped over the wall of the yard, as I used to when I was a boy."

"I was sure last night," observed Maria, "that I heard the door of the enclosure, and some one walking in the yard."

"Now,"' said Perico, "tell us what has happened to you. Have you been wounded?'

"He has been wounded," cried Uncle Pedro. "Look at his breast, and you win see a hole, which is the scar left by a ball that he received there, and that did not lay him dead, thanks to this b.u.t.ton which deadened its force. See how it is flattened and hollowed out like the pan of a fire-lock. Look at his arm; look at the wound--"

"And what matter, father," interrupted Ventura, "since they are cured now?"

"When I ran," he continued, "I took my course down river, reached Sanlacar, and embarked for Cadiz. There I enlisted in the regiment of guards commanded by the Duke del Infantado. I struck up a friends.h.i.+p with a young man of n.o.ble family, who was serving as a private, and we loved each other like brothers. We soon embarked for Tarifa, for the purpose of approaching the French in the rear, while the English attacked them in front. The result was the battle of Barrosa, from which the French fled to Jerez, and we took possession of their camp.

"In the midst of the fight, I said to my friend, 'Come, let us take from that Frenchman the eagle he carries so proudly, it is continually vexing my eyes, come;' and without recommending ourselves to G.o.d, we threw ourselves upon the bearer, killed him, and took the ugly bird; but as we turned we found ourselves surrounded by Frenchmen, friends of the eagle. 'Comrades,' said we, 'it's of no use; as for the bird, he is caged and shall not go out even if Pepe Botellas [Footnote 169] or Napoleon himself, the big thief, should come for him.'

[Footnote 169: Pepe Botellas, Bottle Joe; Joseph Napoleon was so called by the people, because, they said, he used to get drunk.]

"We set it up against a wild olive, and placed ourselves before it, and now, we said, Come and get him--and they came, for those demons, the worse the cause the more impetuous they are. They killed my poor friend, and had nearly killed me, for they were many. What I felt at the thought of losing the bird! but it was the will of heaven that it should never sing the _mambrui_ [Footnote 170] in French, for our men came and drove them back. They conducted me with my trophy before the colonel, who said that I had behaved well, and should receive the cross of San Fernando, for having captured the eagle. 'I did not capture it, my colonel,' I answered, 'it was my friend, the young n.o.ble, who is killed. And I fainted. When came to, I found myself in the hospital and without the cross."

[Footnote 170: Mambrui, a humorous military song, popular among the Spanish soldiers.]

"That was your own fault," said Rita. "Why did you tell the colonel it was not you?"

Ventura looked at her as if he could not comprehend what she was saying.

"You did your duty," said Pedro.

A tear ran down Elvira's cheek.

"I was hardly convalescent when we embarked for Huelra, and I found myself in the battle of Albuera against the division of Marshal Soult.

I was soon after taken prisoner; made my escape, and joined the army of Granada, commanded by the Duke del Paryne, in which I remained, pursuing the enemy beyond the Pyrenees. Then I returned to Madrid, where I have been waiting until now for my dismissal."

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"Goodness! Ventura," said Maria, in astonishment, "you have been further than the storks fly!"

"I--no," answered Ventura, "but I know one, and he indeed, he had been with General La Romana, far in the north, where the ground is covered with snow so deep that people are sometimes buried under it."

"Maria Santissima! said Maria, shuddering.

"But they are good people, they do not carry knives."

"G.o.d bless them!" exclaimed Maria.

"In that land there is no oil, and they eat black bread."

"A poor country for me," observed Anna, "for I must always eat the best bread, if I eat nothing else."

"What kind of _gazpachos_ [Footnote 171] can they make with black bread, and without oil?" asked Maria, quite horrified.

[Footnote 171: Gazpacho. Dish made of bread, oil, onions, vinegar, salt and red-pepper mixed together in water.]

"They do not eat gazpacho," replied Ventura.

"Then what do they eat?"

"They eat potatoes and milk,", he answered.

"Much good may it do them, and benefit their stomachs."

"The worst is, Aunt Maria, that in all that land there are neither monks nor nuns."

"What are you telling me, my son?"

"What you hear. There are very few churches, and those look like hospitals that have been plundered, for they are without chapels, without altars, without images, and without the blessed sacrament."

"Mercy, mercy!" exclaimed all, except Maria, who remained as if turned to stone with surprise. But presently crossing her hands, she exclaimed, with satisfied fervor.

"Ah my suns.h.i.+ne! Ah my white bread! My church! My blessed Mother! My country, my faith, and my G.o.d in his sacrament! Happy a thousand times, I, who have been born, and through divine mercy, shall die here! Thank G.o.d, my son, that yon did not go to that country, a land of heretics! How dreadful!"

"And is heresy catching, mother, like the itch?" asked Rita ironically.

"I do not say that, G.o.d forbid," answered the good Maria; "but--"

"Everything is catching, except beauty," said Pedro, "and one is better off in his own country. I will bet my hands that those who have been there, will bring us nothing good."

"What do not the poor soldiers have to pa.s.s through!" sighed Elvira.

"That must be the reason why I have always been so fond of them,"

added Maria. "That, and because they defend the faith of Christ. And therefore, I am also very devoted to San Fernando, that pious and valiant leader. I have him framed in my parlor, and around him on the wall, I have stuck little paper soldiers, thinking it would be pleasing to the saint, who all his life saw himself surrounded by soldiers. When Rita was about twelve years old, I went to Sevilla, and she gave me a s.h.i.+lling to buy her a little comb. I pa.s.sed by the shop of an old man who had a lot of little paper soldiers exposed for sale.

What a guard for my saint, I thought; but my quarters were all spent.