“It is a misfortune,” observed Raphael, “which never happens to our cathedral, nor to Major ‘Grande Mosca.’ ”
“I saw you,” continued the baron, “near to a large cross placed against the wall. I asked what this cross meant, and was informed that it is called the cross of the negro. Can you tell me, señorita, from whence comes this strange denomination?”
“I do not know. Probably some black person was crucified on it.”
“It is probable. But can you also tell me,” added the baron, with that insupportable irony which approaches so near to the familiar insolence of the incredulous, when they speak to those whom they know to be credulous, “why there is a crocodile suspended from the vault of this gallery of the cathedral, which surrounds the court of orange-trees, on entering by the right of the Giralda? The cathedral with you, does it serve also as a museum of natural history?”
“This large crocodile,” said Rita, on walking away, “is there, because it was taken on the roof of the church.”
“Ah,” cried the baron, laughing, “all is wonderful in your cathedral—every thing, including the crocodile.”
“This is a popular belief,” said the countess; “here is the truth: this crocodile was presented to King Alphonse, the wise, by the famous ambassador sent by the Sultan of Egypt. At the side of this crocodile there is still the tooth of an elephant, a stick, and a bridle—symbols of strength and of moderation. For six hundred years have these symbols been placed at the entrance to the church, as an inscription which the people comprehend without knowing how to read.”
The baron seemed much to regret he could not adopt Rita’s version. The cruel countess had deprived him of the pleasure of writing an article critical, burlesque, satirical, and humorous. Who knows if the crocodile has not been called to fill the part of a holy spirit of a new species in the pleasant recital of this Frenchman, endowed with the advantage of having been born malicious?
During this time the marchioness scolded Rita for the sham she had passed off on the baron, respecting the crucified negro.
“You had better have told him the truth,” said the marchioness.