CHAPTER V.
GERONA THE BEAUTIFUL.
A Gerona señora—Grace and charm—Lord of creation—Morning greeting—Arcades and ancient houses—Conscription—Gerona a discovery—Streets of steps—Ancient eaves and rare ironwork—Old-world corner—Desecrated church—Gothic cloisters—Ghosts of the past—Visions of to-day—Soldiers interested—"Happy as kings"—Lingerings—Colonel seeks explanation—No lover of antiquity—More conscription—Dramatic scene—Pedro to the rescue—Mother and son—Sad story—Strong and merciful—Pedro grateful—Restricted interests—Colonel becomes impenetrable again.
LAST night we had found much to admire, though in the darkness the charms were only half seen. This morning on opening our window clouds hung low and threatening; yet the grey tone over all was in such singular harmony with the ancient city that we hardly regretted the gloomy skies.
Immediately opposite our casement was a small draper's shop presided over by an industrious feminine genius. She was up betimes and worked as though she had taken to heart all the proverbs of Solomon. A short, dark woman of the true Spanish type, bright, active, and not above all manner of work, for she swept her pavement diligently and arranged her wares; doing all with a certain natural grace that was not without its charm.
We thought her a young widow struggling for existence, but when all the work was done and everything was comfortably arranged, a husband appeared upon the scene; evidently a lord of creation who looked upon women, and especially wives, as born to labour. It was their portion under the sun. She had no doubt grown used to this state of things and accepted it as part of life's penances.
"I hope you have slept well," we heard her say with the slightest tinge of sarcasm—the street was so narrow as to bring them almost within half-a-dozen yards of us. "I have been up these two hours, whilst you were serenely unconscious," veiling her head in a graceful mantilla. "Yet you hardly seem refreshed," as he yawned lazily.
"Cara mia, you are an admirable woman and the best of wives. I admit that without your aid life would go hardly with me. But to you work is a pleasure, and I would not deprive you of it for the world."
By this time the mantilla was adjusted and the dark little woman swept good-temperedly out of the shop. The prettiest of small feet tripped on to the pavement. She looked up, saw us gazing in her direction, and her smile disclosed the whitest of teeth.
"Ah, señor, you have heard our conjugal Good-morning. It is always the same. Fate has been hard upon us women. The weaker vessel, we get terribly imposed upon by our masters. Now I go to church to pray for a blessing upon my work and reformation to my lord. Not that he is bad or unkind or tyrannical, as husbands go—only incorrigibly lazy. Oh, you know it is true, Stefano."