Glories of Spain

by Charles W. Wood

"And they are so," said the colonel. "To a large number the change is infinitely better in every way. They all find their own level. Those of the better class discover each other, soon fraternise, and form themselves into cliques. Youth is the age of friendship and enthusiasm. Even these have their popes and go in for hero-worship. Life has its charms for them. Yes," looking around, "no doubt these cloisters have a beauty of their own. They influence me more to-day than ever before. I think you would convert me in time," he laughed; "widen my interests and enlarge my sympathies. You see, to me they are mere military barracks. The men come first, and you will admit that they are not romantic. Plant these cloisters in the midst of a desert, and no doubt I should be duly impressed with their refined atmosphere."

We left them and stood at the head of the long flight of steps, admiring the picturesque scene. To-day everything was radiant with light and sunshine. The very crowd outside the Conscription-house looked more hopeful. Even misfortune was less depressing under such blue skies. The wonderful houses to our right, in their deep lights and shadows, looked more rare and more artistic than ever. The ancient red roofs of the town sloping downwards were deep and glowing. Many a gable stood out vividly, many a dormer window and lattice pane seemed on fire as it reflected in crimson flashes the rays of the ascending sun.

We reluctantly said good-bye to our colonel. These passing episodes, possessing all the charm of the unexpected, are one of the delights of travel. But they leave behind them a regret, for too often there can be no renewal of the intimacy. Yet we realise that the world holds many pleasant people, and that life is too short for all its possibilities.

"If you ever visit Gerona again," he said, with a final hand-shake, "you will come and see me. If I am no longer quartered here, find out where I am, send me a telegram, and follow quickly. May we meet again!"

Then we took our winding way up to the cathedral.

The fine square was in full sunshine. Deep lights and shadows lay upon cathedral and palace. The house in which Alvarez once lived looked as though human tragedy had never touched it. A golden glow lay on the grey stone, restoring its lost youth. The ancient windows with their wonderful ironwork, seemed kindled into life, ready to reveal a thousand secrets of the dead-and-gone centuries. There was no gloom and mystery to-day. The long, magnificent flight of steps were in full sunshine also. Sunshine lay upon the town with its clustering roofs; flashed here and there upon the surface of the winding river; gilded the snow-tops of the far-off Pyrenees. The skies were blue and laughing; all nature was radiant.

We passed through the west doorway into the cathedral.

Even here there was a change. The dim religious light might still be felt; nothing could take that away. A sense of vastness and grandeur still lay upon the splendid nave; a feeling of mystery still haunted pillars and aisles and arches, and the deep recesses of the east end. But to-day shafts of wonderful light flowed in, redeeming all from the faintest suspicion of gloom. Rainbow-coloured beams from the upper windows fell athwart the nave in rich prismatic streams. Beautiful as the interior had been yesterday, it was yet more so this morning. These shafts of light piercing the semi-darkness created a marvellous effect of contrast, adding infinitely to the charm of the lovely building.

There was no mistaking the tall slender figure that approached us with its quiet grace. It was Anselmo, his face lighted up with its rare smile.

"We meet again," he said, in tones subdued to the sacred spot on which we stood. "And yesterday I know that you met and conversed with Rosalie. As we went together this morning to the bedside of a dear maiden whose days are numbered, she told me of your encounter. I am glad. Now you know us both and will keep us together in your memory. You must have seen that she is more angel than woman walking the earth. I often wonder how all her deep affection, purified and exalted, can be given to one so unworthy. You smile! You think ours a strange history, we a singular pair. I suppose it is so. Ours must be almost a unique experience; and I believe that to few in this world is given the peace and happiness we enjoy."