CHAPTER XXXV.

RIDE TO EL PICACHO DE LA VILETA-THE VENTA-THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION-THE ROBBERS-THE COPITA OF AGUARDIENTE-THE NIGHT AT EL PREVESIN-THE ASCENT OF THE PICACHO-THE VIEW-THE RETURN.

In the vicinity of Grenada there is many a picturesque ride-naturally and historically picturesque. It was my custom often, of a morning, to ride to some pueblo-village-of the Vega, and trust to fortune for adventures. Pépé always accompanied me; his sociable qualities alone would have made his companionship necessary, had I not required his assistance as a guide and cicerone.

The longest excursion we made, and the most agreeable, was to El Picacho de la Veleta, next to the highest of the Alpine peaks of the Sierra Nevada. Its height is more than twelve thousand feet above the level of the sea; and it is no holiday-task to surmount it. Mounted on two good roadsters, we left the Alhambra after an early breakfast, with the intention of making as much of the distance as we could before the heat of the day set in. After crossing the Xenil, the first place we halted at was the pueblo San Antonio, whence we had a charming view of the city, and of the Alhambra. All that was uncouth, disjointed, outré, in the latter, from too much proximity, became soft and harmonious from this distance; and I easily concurred with the sentiment of Charles V.: "Better a tomb in the Al

416

THE GATHERER OF HERBS.

hambra than a palace in the Alpujarras"-in allusion to Boabdil's choice of the latter. At the venta where we stopped, to get a copita of vino tinto con agua— red wine and water-two men were taking olives, bread, and cheese, with wine al fresco. I saluted them, of course, as I dismounted, and was accosted with the invariable courtesy "Guste usted?—will you join us?” "Gracias, señores caballeros," on my part acknowledged and declined the invitation. I like this custom, if only that it establishes a relation, grateful if temporary, of kindness between strangers. It is better certainly than the sullen brow or supercilious look which you too often encounter under similar circumstances among insular people.

When my wine and lunch were brought, I, of course, before tasting, offered it to them, and met, of course, a gracious denial. But when, on renewing our glasses, I told Pépé to urge their participation, with a true sense of civility they accepted: as a compliment, they had declined; but when they found I would be gratified by their acceptance, they held it ill-bred to refuse. Both were men of good manners; but one had a deportment, a natural ease of carriage and address, you seldom find unless in high life. He had a large bundle of green herbs beside him, which, he told me, he had gathered in the Sierra Nevada, and was carring to Malaga for medicinal purposes. They were, he said, very good for all complaints of the stomach. He was on foot, had walked all the way from Malaga, had ascended partway, at least, the Sierra, and was now returning on foot; three or four days of hard labor, for a slight compensation. Yet he seemed well-satisfied with his condition, and doubtless had reason to be so-for happiness is in a man's own heart.

While I was conversing with him, a tall, upright,

THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION.

417

venerable personage, wrapped in an ample cloak, though the thermometer must have been 80°, with the true Spanish cast over the left shoulder, approached, and saluted me: "( Ave Maria purissima!" said he. “Sin peccado concebida," I replied. "Hail most purest Mary Virgin," was the salutation. "And without sin conceived," the reply. A fierce controversy had raged in Spain as to the question of the conception of the Virgin, the Dominicans insisting that she was liable to the pains and penalties of original sin, while their rivals, the Franciscans, with more gallantry, and stronger plausibility, contended that she was wholly exempt. Fortunately for art, the latter doctrine prevailed at Seville, since it inspired Murillo to embody in his "Concepcion" the most exquisite ideal of female purity-the most innocent unconsciousness of sexual shame-the great miracle of our Faith all but miraculously rendered.

As a matter of belief, the doctrine of Immaculate Conception is placed beyond a cavil, since the highest spiritual authority known to Christendom has decided in its favor. What was hope is now faith.

This mode of address, once almost universal on entering a house, has fallen into almost universal disuse. It has been abandoned to the order of mendicants, the older class of whom frequently adopt it. Of such was the respectable interlocutor who had introduced himself into our party. He had too dignified an air-too self-respecting a demeanor for me to exorcise with the "Perdone usted por Dios hermano," the cabalistic phrase which, like the reading of the Riot Act, generally disperses the mendicant mob. Barring his want of blindness, he might well have personated Belisarius asking for an obolus. He too had looked on better days, he told us; and though, unlike

the great general whose fallen state his present appearance resembled, he had not performed services

too great to be requited; yet he had served an ungrateful master many long years, in tending his flocks faithfully-to be thrown, in destitute age, upon the world's cold neglect. I gave him more than usual alms, which he said should be repaid in glory.

Upon my mounting my horse to take leave, my ac

quaintance of the herbs arose to make his adieus—a courtesy that the Spaniard seldom thinks necessary to extend, unless to a personal friend. But he knew that I was a stranger; was, doubtless, grateful for the interest I had shown in his affairs, and, perhaps, quien sabe? was somewhat impressed with the brilliancy of my costume, for I was in full dress, en majo.

Hoc erat in Spain, that I

But like per

We had rode, perhaps, some five or six miles from the venta rather sharply, and were walking our somewhat heated animals, when from out of a deep thicket, by the roadside, two men emerged about a hundred yards in front of us. They were truculent-looking individuals, and armed with carabines. votis: it was my wish, when I entered should encounter bandits before I left. sons who have often called on death to terminate their fancied sufferings, and are seized with a mortal fear if they think their appeal is to be answered, I shuddered at the bare thought of the realization of my foolish gasconade. A cold tremor occupied my limbs. The loneliness of the place, our incapacity for resistance (for all our arms were a Colt's revolver, and a knife of Pépé's)—the stoppage of the diligencia the week before, on the highway from Madrid to Valencia, almost unsexed us. I felt all the valor which I had got up and nursed on Val de Peñas, like Bob Acres's, "oozing out at my finger's ends"-and, like him, I was wishing for a long, a very "long shot," indeed!

I had, on Pépé's advice, left at home my watch and all my money, except a few Napoleons; but as Spanish robbers always give you a severe beating if you don't give them satisfactory coin, at the best I could only hope to save my life at the expense of bruises and loss of self-respect.

"Mala gente ?" I asked of Pépé.