“Don’t think,” he hastened to add, “that we friars have an easy time in Africa. If I did feel more contented there, it was because those poor people do their best to serve one, and treat him with great consideration. I learned the Arabic, if not as well as my brother, Father Lerchundi, at least enough to make myself understood. If you only knew how useful it was to me! Our garb recommends us to those poor creatures. They call us in their language saints and wise men—precisely as is done here!”
“You could not say more clearly that you would like to become a Moor,” observed Don Román.
“I was a Moor,” said the friar, vivaciously. “That is,” he added, modifying his assertion, “as you will understand, I did not become a Mohammedan; and I didn’t say Mohammedan or a follower of Mohammed, but Moor, which means a son of Africa, an inhabitant of Morocco.”
“Of course, we know that you did not renounce your faith,” exclaimed my prospective aunt, in the tone of gentle and affectionate jesting which she always adopted in addressing the father.
“No, my child, I did not renounce my religion; thanks to divine compassion, I did not go so far.”
“But tell us in what way you were a Moor.”
“Oh, goodness! Why, it scarcely needs to be told,—and it’s a very long story. It went the rounds of the papers; the Revista Popular of Barcelona had an article about it.”
“Oh, do tell us!”
The friar was well pleased to do so, to judge by the complacency with which he commenced his tale. He first took out his handkerchief from his sleeve, and wiped from his lips the liquor he had just been drinking.
“Well, you see it was a little while before the Restoration, when politics were in a bad way here, and Spain was all stirred up by the Republic. I was then in Tangiers, feeling very happy, because, as I have told you, I am very fond of Africa. But we have taken a vow of obedience, and suddenly I received the disagreeable order to leave for Spain, to go to Madrid itself, and it was not possible for me to wear my habit; fine times for habits those were! ‘Listen, Moreno,’ said I to myself, ‘it is time to cast off your friar’s garb and become a fine little gentleman.’ You know that they allow us to let our beards grow while we are in Africa, and that is a great aid in disguising a friar, because one of the things which betrays a priest dressed as a layman is his smooth face. The tonsure we were not very careful to shave, so all I had to do was to let my hair grow for a few days before the journey, and get it even with the rest, and there I was. I ordered my clothes from the best tailor there. And the accessories,—because a gentleman’s attire has a thousand accessories,—of those the ladies of my circle of acquaintance insisted on taking charge, particularly the ladies in the English Consul’s family. These ladies liked me very much, and understood all about the elegancies of the toilette and how a gentleman fixes himself up. They got me silk embroidered stockings, neckties, ruffled shirts, and even handkerchiefs marked with my initials. But they especially wanted to see me with all my finery on. ‘Father Moreno, after you are dressed you must come and show us.’ ‘Father Moreno, we must give you the last touch, or you’ll go away looking like a scarecrow.’ ‘Father Moreno, don’t deprive us of that pleasure.’ But I was obstinate. ‘Am I a monkey to show off my tricks? No, indeed, nobody shall laugh at me. You shall not see me dressed up. If you like that, well and good; but if you don’t, we’ll no longer be friends.’ The day arrived, and I decked myself out, head to foot; not the slightest detail was lacking—not even sleeve-buttons, for they had made me a present of some. I dressed at the convent, and went through the most retired streets to take a boat which was to put me on board. Well, will you believe it? In spite of all that, those ladies made out to see me! When they heard that the steamer was going to weigh anchor, they stationed themselves on their balconies, well provided with spy-glasses, and while I was taking my ease on the bridge, they all looked at me as much as they chose. They say that I seemed like another man to them. I should say so! I carried a cloak, had my traveling-bag, wore my hat on one side, and had two-buttoned gloves on my hands.”