The Manuscript Found in Saragossa (17 page)

I disliked intensely the hermit's persistence in asking of me a confession which I did not want to make. I replied to him coldly that although I respected his saintly exhortations, the code of honour was my guide. Then we spoke of other matters.

The cabbalist said to me, ‘Don Alphonse, since you are being pursued by the Inquisition and the king has ordered you to spend three months in this remote part of the country, let me offer you refuge in my castle. There you will meet my sister, Rebecca, who is almost as beautiful as she is learned. Do come. You are a descendant of the Gomelez and all that family has a claim to our attentions.'

I looked at the hermit to read in his eyes what he thought of this proposal.

The cabbalist seemed to guess my thoughts because he turned to the hermit and said, ‘Father, I know you better than you think. Your faith has given you great powers. My methods are not as holy but they are not diabolical. Why don't you come too, with Pacheco, whose cure I will complete?'

The hermit did not reply at once but began to pray. Then, having reflected a moment, he came across to us and with a cheerful look on his face told us that he was prepared to follow us.

The cabbalist turned his head towards his right shoulder; then he gave the order for the horses to be brought. A moment later two appeared at the door of the hermitage, together with two mules, which the hermit and Pacheco mounted. Although the castle was a day's ride away, according to ben Mamoun, we reached it within the hour.

On the way, ben Mamoun had spoken a great deal to me about his learned sister, and I expected to meet a black-haired Medea with a wand in her hand, muttering some incomprehensible words under her breath. But my image of her was quite wrong. Sweet Rebecca met us at the gate of the castle. She was the most adorable and engaging blonde. Her golden locks fell naturally down to her shoulders. She was dressed in a simple white dress secured by priceless clasps. Her outward appearance suggested someone who gave no thought to what she wore, but had she thought more about it, it would have been difficult for her to achieve a better effect.

Rebecca threw her arms around her brother's neck and said, ‘You have given me a terrible fright. You always kept in touch except for the first night. What happened to you?'

‘I'll tell you all about it,' said ben Mamoun, ‘but for the moment think only of receiving the guests I have brought with me. This is the hermit from the valley, and this young man is a Gomelez.'

Rebecca glanced at the hermit with some indifference, but when she caught sight of me she seemed to blush and said with an air of sadness, ‘I hope for the sake of your happiness that you are not one of us.'

We went in and the drawbridge was raised behind us. The castle was quite immense and seemed in excellent order. There seemed to be only two servants: a young mulatto and a girl of the same age and race. Ben Mamoun first took us to his library, a little rotunda which served also as a dining room. The mulatto laid the table-cloth, brought in an
olla podrida
and set four places, for the fair Rebecca did not sit down to table with us. The hermit ate more than usual for him and seemed also to become more human. Pacheco, who still only had one eye, did not seem to think himself possessed any more, although he was grave and remained silent. Ben Mamoun had a healthy appetite,
but he seemed preoccupied and admitted that his adventure of the previous day had given him much to reflect upon.

As soon as we got up from table he said, ‘Dear guests, here are books to keep you entertained, and my negro servant will gladly attend to all your desires. But I hope that you will allow me to withdraw with my sister. There is important work to be done. You will not see us again before, the midday meal tomorrow.'

Ben Mamoun then duly withdrew and left us as it were in charge of the house.

The hermit took down from the bookcase an account of the lives of the Desert Fathers and told Pacheco to read some chapters aloud to him. I went out on to the terrace, which overlooked a precipice in whose unseen depth there flowed a raging river, which could be heard roaring below. However desolate the countryside looked, it gave me great pleasure to contemplate it, or rather to give myself over to the feeling which it inspired in me as I looked at it. This was not melancholy but rather an annihilation of all my faculties brought about by the many violent emotions to which I had been a prey for the last few days. Having thought much about what had happened to me and having come to no understanding of it, I no longer dared to dwell on it any more for fear of losing my reason. The prospect of spending a few quiet days in the castle of Uzeda was what gave me most hope. I left the terrace and went back into the library.

Then the young mulatto served a light meal of dried fruit and cold meats, none from unclean animals. Thereafter we went our own separate ways. The hermit and Pacheco were taken to one bedroom, I to another.

I lay down and fell asleep.

Shortly afterwards I was awoken by the fair Rebecca, who said to me, ‘Señor Alphonse, forgive me for interrupting your rest. I have come from my brother's apartment. We have tried the most terrible invocations in order to discover who the two spirits were with whom he dealt at the
venta
, but without success. We think that he was tricked by baalim
⁹
over whom we have no power. Yet the dwelling
of Enoch is indeed as he saw it. All this is of the highest importance to us and I beg you to tell us what you know.'

Having said this, Rebecca sat down on my bed, but she sat down only for that purpose and seemed only concerned with the information that she was asking of me. But she did not obtain it for I confined myself to telling her that I had given my word never to speak about the matter.

‘But Señor Alphonse,' continued Rebecca, ‘how can you believe that a promise given to two demons can be binding on you? Now we know already that there are two female demons there called Emina and Zubeida, but we don't know very much about the nature of these demons because in our art as in all others one cannot know everything.'

I stuck to my refusal and asked the beautiful girl not to speak any more about the matter.

She then looked at me with a kind of benevolence and said, ‘How lucky you are to have principles of virtue which guide you in all your actions and which keep your conscience clear! How different is our own fate! We have striven to see what mortal eyes are not given to see and to know what mortal reason may not comprehend. I was not meant for such sublime knowledge. I care little for my futile authority over demons. I would have been well satisfied to rule over the heart of a husband but my father decided otherwise and I must bow to my destiny.'

As she spoke these words Rebecca drew out a handkerchief, apparently to hide her tears. Then she continued, ‘Señor Alphonse, please allow me to return tomorrow at the same time and try again to overcome your stubbornness or, as you would call it, your steadfast attachment to your word. Soon the sun will enter the sign of Virgo. It will be too late then and what will happen, will happen.'

In taking leave of me, Rebecca shook my hand in a friendly way and seemed reluctant to go back to her cabbalistic exercises.

The peace of the elements stole into my soul and I was able to reflect with some tranquillity on what had happened to me since I left Cadiz. A few passing comments of Don Enrique de Sa, the governor of that city, which then came to my mind, led me to think that he also was part of the mysterious existence of the Gomelez and that he too knew part of their secret. He it was who had recommended to me my two valets, Lopez and Mosquito. I suppose it was on his orders that they deserted me at the entrance to the disastrous valley of Los Hermanos. My cousins had often led me to believe that I would be tested. I conjectured that I had been given a sleeping draught at the
venta
and that I had been carried under the gallows as I slept. Pacheco could have lost an eye in a quite different way than by an amorous liaison with two hanged men, and his terrifying story might be no more than a fable. The hermit, who was continually trying to discover my secret by means of the sacrament of confession, seemed to me then to be an agent of the Gomelez seeking to test my discretion.

At last, just as I thought I was beginning to understand better what had happened to me and to be able to explain it without having recourse to supernatural beings, I heard in the distance merry music which seemed to be coming from round the mountain. The music soon became more distinct and I saw a jolly band of gypsies who were marching along in step, singing and accompanying themselves on their
sonajas
and
cascarras
.
¹
They set up their little temporary camp
near the terrace, giving me the opportunity of observing the clothes and accoutrements which gave them so elegant an appearance. I supposed that these were the same gypsy thieves under whose protection the innkeeper of the Venta de Cárdenas had placed himself, as the hermit had told me. But they seemed too gallant to be brigands. As I was observing them, they set up their tents, placed their
ollas
over their fires and hung their babies' cradles from the branches of nearby trees. When all these preparations had been completed, they devoted themselves again to the pleasures of their nomadic existence, the greatest of which in their eyes was doing nothing.

The tent of their leader was distinguished from the others not only by the pole topped by a great silver knob which was planted at its entrance but also by its excellent condition and rich ornamental fringe, which is not usually seen on gypsies' tents. But you can imagine my surprise on seeing the tent open and my two cousins come out, wearing the elegant costume which in Spain is known as
a la gitana maja
. They came up to the terrace without, however, seeming to see me. Then they hailed their companions and began to dance that well-known
polo
to the words:

If affectionate Emina and sweet Zubeida had turned my head when dressed in their Moorish simars, they delighted me no less in this new costume. But I thought that they had a sly, mocking air about them of the kind which suited fortune-tellers and which seemed to suggest that they were plotting some new trick on me by appearing before me in this new and unexpected guise.

The cabbalist's castle was carefully locked up. He alone held the keys, so I was unable to join the gypsies; but by taking a tunnel which led to the river and which was shut off by an iron gate, I was able to
take a close look at them, and even speak to them without being seen by those in the castle. So I went down to this secret gate and found myself separated from the dancers by no more than the bed of the river. They turned out not to be my cousins. They even appeared to me to have a somewhat common air typical of their station in life.

Ashamed of my mistake, I went slowly back up to the terrace. When I reached it, I looked down again and recognized my cousins. They seemed to recognize me too, burst out laughing and then retired to their tent.

I was indignant. Heavens above, I said to myself, can it be possible that two such adorable and adoring creatures should be two sprites who are in the habit of playing tricks on mortals by taking on many forms and shapes? Or even two witches? Or, what would be even more horrible, vampires which heaven has allowed to assume the hideous bodies of the hanged men in the valley? It seemed to me a moment ago that all my experiences could have had a natural explanation, but now I was not so sure.

As these thoughts were passing through my mind I returned to the library, where I found a thick tome on the table, written in Gothic script, entitled
Curious Stories by Happelius
. The book lay open and the page seemed to have been folded over deliberately to mark the beginning of a chapter in which I read the following story:
³