Glories of Spain

by Charles W. Wood

We easily recognised the forlorn mother of yesterday's little drama. She was quietly seated in a chair, her mantilla drawn closely about her, a pathetic image of grief.

"Oh, señor Colonel, it is useless," she said. "Hope is dead and my heart broken. Heaven has seen fitting to afflict me at all points. I have lost my husband, my position; I am poor and in misery; my eldest son turns out a disgrace; my remaining consolation is torn from me by the cruel conscription. Nothing is left for me but to die."

"This is quite wrong," returned the colonel, pretending a severity he did not feel. "Heaven is merciful. Brighter days will dawn for you if you are patient. You will see that conscription is a blessing, not a curse. It will make a man of your boy. Discipline is good for all. It is just what he needed. He will return to you strong and vigorous; able and willing to make a home for you. I promise to make him my special charge. He shall be always about me. I will give him all the favour possible, and will keep a constant eye upon him. Heaven permitting, he shall return to you, not spoilt or lowered, but mentally and physically improved. In the meantime—I have been making enquiries—I have found you a position where you can honourably earn your living; where you will be comfortable and respected; and if you will only look at the best side of things, happy also. What do you say to it?"

Here he described the nature of the proposed occupation. The poor lady burst into tears.

"Heaven reproves me for my ingratitude by showering mercies upon me," she cried. "Hope once more kindles within me. This is the one thing for which I am fitted. Ah, colonel! it is you who have brought back life and hope to my despairing heart."

"Nay," he returned, "I am merely the humble instrument, as we all are, carrying out the purposes of Heaven. But I exact one thing of you. Cease to be sad: let hope and energy return; carry out your daily tasks heartily; and make up your mind that life still has much in store for you."

The change was already apparent. A drooping, grief-stricken woman had entered the office; one with hope and energy and patient waiting revived left it.

"Life is full of such sorrows," said the colonel. "Unfortunately we cannot reach a millionth part of them. In this case help has been made strangely easy. It is so seldom that the wish to aid and the power go together. Let us now take a turn in your favourite cloisters."

Reposing under the blue skies, in the strong light and shade thrown by the sunshine, they were even more beautiful and effective than yesterday. In presence of their colonel, the men kept at a respectful distance. They were all occupied in the same way; drawing water from the well, mending clothes, running to and fro; some diligently doing nothing. All seemed happy and contented.