I remained in Cordova much longer than I had originally intended, owing to the accounts which I was continually hearing of the unsafe state of the roads to Madrid.I soon ransacked every nook and cranny of this ancient town, formed various acquaintances amongst the populace, which is my general practice on arriving at a strange place.I more than once ascended the side of the Sierra Morena, in which excursions Iwas accompanied by the son of my host, - the tall lad of whom Ihave already spoken.The people of the house, who had imbibed the idea that I was of the same way of thinking as themselves, were exceedingly courteous; it is true, that in return I was compelled to listen to a vast deal of Carlism, in other words, high treason against the ruling powers in Spain, to which, however, I submitted with patience."Don Jorgito," said the landlord to me one day, "I love the English; they are my best customers.It is a pity that there is not greater union between Spain and England, and that more English do not visit us.Why should there not be a marriage? The king will speedily be at Madrid.Why should there not be bodas between the son of Don Carlos and the heiress of England?""It would certainly tend to bring a considerable number of English to Spain," said I, "and it would not be the first time that the son of a Carlos has married a Princess of England."The host mused for a moment, and then exclaimed, "Carracho, Don Jorgito, if this marriage could be brought about, both the king and myself should have cause to fling our caps in the air."The house or posada in which I had taken up my abode was exceedingly spacious, containing an infinity of apartments, both large and small, the greater part of which were, however, unfurnished.The chamber in which I was lodged stood at the end of an immensely long corridor, of the kind so admirably described in the wondrous tale of Udolfo.For a day or two after my arrival I believed myself to be the only lodger in the house.One morning, however, I beheld a strange-looking old man seated in the corridor, by one of the windows, reading intently in a small thick volume.He was clad in garments of coarse blue cloth, and wore a loose spencer over a waistcoat adorned with various rows of small buttons of mother of pearl;he had spectacles upon his nose.I could perceive, notwithstanding he was seated, that his stature bordered upon the gigantic."Who is that person?" said I to the landlord, whom I presently met; "is he also a guest of yours?" "Not exactly, Don Jorge de mi alma," replied he, "I can scarcely call him a guest, inasmuch as I gain nothing by him, though he is staying at my house.You must know, Don Jorge, that he is one of two priests who officiate at a large village at some slight distance from this place.So it came to pass, that when the soldiers of Gomez entered the village, his reverence went to meet them, dressed in full canonicals, with a book in his hand, and he, at their bidding, proclaimed Carlos Quinto in the market-place.The other priest, however, was a desperate liberal, a downright negro, and upon him the royalists laid their hands, and were proceeding to hang him.His reverence, however, interfered, and obtained mercy for his colleague, on condition that he should cry VIVA CARLOS QUINTO! which the latter did in order to save his life.Well; no sooner had the royalists departed from these parts than the black priest mounts his mule, comes to Cordova, and informs against his reverence, notwithstanding that he had saved his life.So his reverence was seized and brought hither to Cordova, and would assuredly have been thrown into the common prison as a Carlist, had I not stepped forward and offered to be surety that he should not quit the place, but should come forward at any time to answer whatever charge might be brought against him; and he is now in my house, though guest I cannot call him, for he is not of the slightest advantage to me, as his very food is daily brought from the country, and that consists only of a few eggs and a little milk and bread.As for his money, I have never seen the colour of it, notwithstanding they tell me that he has buenas pesetas.However, he is a holy man, is continually reading and praying and is, moreover, of the right opinion.Itherefore keep him in my house, and would be bail for him were he twenty times more of a skinflint than he seems to be."The next day, as I was again passing through the corridor, I observed the old man in the same place, and saluted him.He returned my salutation with much courtesy, and closing the book, placed it upon his knee as if willing to enter into conversation.After exchanging a word or two, I took up the book for the purpose of inspecting it.
"You will hardly derive much instruction from that book, Don Jorge," said the old man; "you cannot understand it, for it is not written in English.""Nor in Spanish," I replied."But with respect to understanding the book, I cannot see what difficulty there can be in a thing so simple; it is only the Roman breviary written in the Latin tongue.""Do the English understand Latin?" exclaimed he."Vaya!
Who would have thought that it was possible for Lutherans to understand the language of the church? Vaya! the longer one lives the more one learns.""How old may your reverence be?" I inquired.
"I am eighty years, Don Jorge; eighty years, and somewhat more."Such was the first conversation which passed between his reverence and myself.He soon conceived no inconsiderable liking for me, and favoured me with no little of his company.
Unlike our friend the landlord, I found him by no means inclined to talk politics, which the more surprised me, knowing, as I did, the decided and hazardous part which he had taken on the late Carlist irruption into the neighbourhood.He took, however, great delight in discoursing on ecclesiastical subjects and the writings of the fathers.
