"That would be throwing away their cash," said Mrs. Shortridge. "I have known good folks in London exercise their charity by releasing small debtors from prison. But their bounty bears little fruit, compared with that of the Papist, who, by opening his purse, rescues sinful souls from purgatory. But our works, as our faith, fall far short of theirs."
"And the Spaniards are foremost among the faithful," said L'Isle. "They are greedy of belief, even beyond what the church commands. Thus the mysterious origin of the Holy Virgin, which once convulsed the Spanish church, is here no longer a disputed point. It is the first article of their creed, as proved by their commonest term of salutation. On entering a Spaniard's house, you must begin with the words, 'Ave Maria Purissima,' to which will be answered, 'Sin pecado concebida.' Smithfield fires could not burn this dogma out of them, and they would become schismatics if the rest of Popedom were not treading on their heels. Yet to me this doctrine seems to sap the great Christian truth, that Christ is 'God made man,' for it pushes his human origin one generation further back. Did Scripture tell the name of the mother of the blessed Virgin, the next age might discover that she too was 'sin pecado concebida.'"
"Since I have been in this land," said Mrs. Shortridge, "I have seen scarcely a street, or even a house, which is without an image or picture of the blessed Virgin, and the images are often crowned with flowers."
"She is the goddess of these southern nations," L'Isle answered; "and styled the Mother of God. Moreover, every pious Spaniard regards the Virgin in the light of his friend, his confidante, his mistress, whose whole attention is directed to himself, and who is perpetually watching over his happiness. With the name of Mary ever on his lips he follows his business, his pleasures, and his sins. It is in the name, too, of Mary," L'Isle continued, with an arch smile, "that the ladies write billetdoux, send their portraits, and entertain their gallants."
"Stop," said Mrs. Shortridge; "you are libeling our sex, and your love of satire makes you as bitter against Popery as old Moodie himself."
"It is, at least, no scandal to say that, under her patronage, small sins are easily absolved here, on the performance of certain duties of atonement."
"What are the duties of atonement?"
"Ave Marias, fasts, and alms. The alms go to the begging friars, or else to buy masses for the souls in purgatory."
Walking up the sloping street that leads to the castle, they found this Moorish edifice in a shattered condition, a few towers only standing whole amidst the ruins. From one of these, looking northward across the river which ran three hundred feet below them, they saw the strong fort of San Christoval towering above them, while they, in turn, overlooked the city, and beyond its walls, the plain to the south, not long since covered with vineyards, and olive groves, and the picturesque villas of the richer citizens of Badajoz—now its bare surface was furrowed with trenches, ridged with field works, and spotted with ruins. The devastating blast of war had left it the picture of desolation.
Lady Mabel, turning to ask L'Isle a question, saw him gazing gloomily down into the deep but dry fosse below them.