B0040702LQ EBOK by Margaret Jull Costa;Annella McDermott Read Free Book Online

steel, which clanged in time
to his martial stride and the clean, sharp ring of his golden
spurs.

    As soon as his comrade spotted the captain, he ran forward
to meet him, as did nearly all those present at the gathering,
whose curiosity and interest had been aroused by tales of his
strange and unusual character.
    After the usual greetings, exclamations, handshakes and
questions which characterise these meetings, after long and
detailed discussion of the news that was doing the rounds in
Madrid, the varying fortunes of war, and dead or absent
friends, after touching on this and that, the conversation came
round eventually to the unavoidable topics, namely, the tribulations of army life, the lack of amusements in the city and the
discomfort of their lodgings.
    At this point, one of those present, who seemingly had
news of the young officer's reluctance to lodge his men in the
abandoned church, asked him in a bantering tone:
    `Speaking of lodgings, what sort of night did you have in
the place they gave you?T
    `Not too good, yet not too bad', replied the officer. `For
though I did not get much sleep, the reason for my insomnia
made it all worth while. To lie awake beside a beautiful
woman is not the worst of fates.'
    'A woman!' responded his questioner, expressing his surprise at the new arrival's good fortune. `You certainly wasted
no time!'
    `Perhaps it's some long-standing mistress from Madrid who
has followed him to Toledo to comfort him in his exile,'
someone suggested.
    `Not at all,' the Captain replied. `Nothing could be further
from the truth. I give you my word that she was not known to
me, and that I never thought to find such a beautiful landlady in such uncomfortable lodgings. This was what one might call
a real adventure.'

    `Tell us about it! Tell us about it,' chorused the officers
surrounding the Captain.
    And, since he seemed prepared to do so, they all listened
attentively while he began the story as follows:
    `I was sleeping last night as a man sleeps who has ridden
thirteen leagues, when I suddenly sat up, resting on one elbow,
roused from this profound slumber by a horrible din, a noise
so great that it left my ears ringing for about a minute, as
though a hornet were buzzing round my head. As you will
have guessed, the cause of my alarm was the first stroke of that
infernal great bell, a sort of bronze choirmaster, which the
canons of Toledo have hung in their cathedral with the laudable aim of harassing to death anyone in need of repose. As the
last of the strange and horrible sounds died away, I was about
to lie down and try to get back to sleep, cursing under my
breath both bell and bell-ringer, when a most extraordinary
sight caught my eye and captured my imagination. In the pale
moonlight filtering into the church through the narrow mullioned windows of the main chapel, I saw a woman kneeling
by the altar.'
    The officers exchanged glances in which surprise mingled
with incredulity. The captain, paying no heed to the effect his
story was having, continued in this vein:
    `You cannot imagine anything to rival that fantastical nocturnal vision, whose blurred outline could be discerned in the
darkness of the chapel, like those pale, luminous Virgins
depicted in stained glass windows that you will have glimpsed
in the depths of cathedrals. Her oval face bearing faint traces
of spiritual suffering, her harmonious features filled with a
sweet, melancholy tenderness, her intense pallor, the pure
lines of her slender figure, her serene and noble air, her floating white gown, all these reminded me of the women I had
dreamed of as an adolescent. Chaste, celestial images, illusory
objects of some vague, adolescent love! I believed myself prey
to an hallucination, and though I did not take my eyes off her
for a moment, I hardly dared to breathe, fearing that the slightest disturbance might break the spell. She was completely still. Seeing her so transparent and