“But then he would wear a turban and yellow slippers, like the Moor I have seen thirty years ago, when I was in Cadiz. They called him the Moor Seylan. How handsome he was! But for me his beauty was nothing: he was not a Christian. After all, be he Jew or Moor let us relieve him.”
“Assist him, Jew or Christian,” repeated the brother. And they both approached the bed.
Stein had raised himself up in a sitting position, and regarded with astonishment all the objects by which he was surrounded.
“He does not understand what we say to him,” said the good Maria. “Let us try, nevertheless.”
“Let us try,” added Gabriel.
In Spain, the common people believe that the best way to make themselves understood is to speak very loud. Maria and Gabriel, with this conviction, cried out both together: “Will you have some soup?” said Maria. “Will you have some lemonade?” said the brother.
Stein, whose ideas became clearer little by little, asked in Spanish:
“Where am I? who are you?”
“He,” replied the old woman, “is brother Gabriel; I am grandma Maria, and we are both at your orders.”
“Ah!” said Stein, “from whom do you take your names? The holy archangel and the holy Virgin, guardians of the sick and consolers of the afflicted, will recompense you for your good action.”