“Why, I confess that you have seen me in rather suspicious company, senhor; but yet it is cruel to doubt the honesty of an humble friar. To convince you of my sincerity, I have brought this ring, which I believe belonged to the young lady you said had been robbed by those rascally banditti.”
Don Luis took the ring which the friar offered. “This, Senhor Frade, is but a small portion of the trinkets I expected. It was for the recovery of the casket I promised you the reward.”
“I am aware of that, senhor; but I wish to show you that, though you doubt me, I put every confidence in your honour; and, if you were not so impatient, I would deliver the proposal which I came here to make. In the first place, I beg you will keep that ring, as an earnest of my sincerity; and, if you will trust me with the money, I will return with the casket; but if not, the only way by which you can recover it, is to follow my directions.”
Don Luis considered a moment; but there was such a roguish glance in the twinkle of the friar’s eye, that he thought it would be folly to trust him, and that he should probably neither see the casket nor his money again, though he would willingly have risked a far larger sum for the sake of recovering the jewels. Yet he wished first to hear what the friar had to propose.
“I see how it is,” said the Friar, laughing. “You think me a rogue in grain, so there is no use concealing the matter; but I am not offended, I assure you. Other people have thought me so too, who knew me better than you do, till they found out their mistake, as you will some day: however, if you had trusted me, you might have saved yourself considerable trouble.”
“Well, well, Father,” interrupted Don Luis, getting rather impatient at all this circumlocution, “let me hear your proposition, and then I shall be able to determine how to act.”
“You must know, then, my young friend, that this precious casket, which you are so anxious to gain, is in the possession of a very holy and pious man, an aged hermit, whose food is the roots of the earth, or the nuts from the trees, and his drink the pure water from the brook,” began the Friar, speaking very slowly, and eyeing Don Luis, with a laughing glance. “And thus it befell, that this holy man became possessed of the casket. You know a hill, which stands about two leagues from hence, on the summit of which is a chapel dedicated to our Lady of the Rock?”
“Yes, yes,” answered Don Luis, rather impatiently, and vexed at the friar’s evident intention of putting his temper to the proof, “I have often been there in my boyhood; but pray proceed with your story, if you intend it to lead to anything satisfactory.”
“Of course I do, my young friend,” answered the Friar. “I was going to tell you where the holy man resides, when you interrupted me. You must know, then, that beneath the hill on which the chapel stands, there is a cave, which has of late years been cleared from the rubbish which formerly blocked it up, and has been converted into a very tolerable habitation for the summer months, during which period this holy man is constantly there to be found, as he is at present, or was when I was there last, attending to the duties of the sacred edifice above. His great sanctity, his prayers, and fastings, have on many occasions been found to be of the greatest service, both in replenishing his pockets, and in restoring those to health who have consulted him; but his great forte is in saying masses for the souls of the departed, which have double the efficacy of those of any other religious person, as he constantly affirms, and no one can disprove, nor does any one dream of disputing the word of so holy a man. I am now, senhor, approaching the point which is of more consequence to you. You must know that the comrades of the men, whom, as I am told, you killed in the forest, when they attacked the fidalgo Gonçalo Christovaö, were tolerably well aware that they had a considerable share of unrepented crimes on their consciences; and that, consequently, their stay in purgatory would be of rather long duration, unless great exertions were made to get them clear of it. Now, most of them having a fellow-feeling for their unfortunate friends, turned it in their minds how they could best contrive to shorten their residence in that very unpleasant abode; and, at last, it was agreed that they should engage the holy man I speak of, and of whom they had all heard, to say as many masses as half the booty they had taken would supply, at the lowest possible rate; for which purpose, they laid aside the very casket you are in search of. Now, it chanced that I was paying a visit to this holy man, who, I am proud to say, is a friend of mine; and he showed me the casket, begging me to estimate its value, that he might know how many masses he ought to say. I no sooner beheld it, than I at once recollected your request; so I told him that, though in Lisbon it might be sold for a larger sum, yet he would here be very fortunate if he succeeded in receiving a hundred milreas for it, particularly as I suspected it was stolen property; for which sum he might say fully sufficient masses to get the souls of the departed rogues quietly domesticated in the realms of Paradise. He agreed with me, that, if it did not, it must be their own fault, for being so desperately wicked, so that there could be no help for them. I then told him, that if he would let me have the casket, I would return with the money for it; but it is very extraordinary, senhor, that he objected to do so,—not, of course, that he could have any doubts about my honesty, but that the happiness of the souls in purgatory would be at stake, if, by any chance, it was lost. I had no arguments to offer to his objections, so I was obliged to give up the point; and I hastened here to inform you of the discovery I had made, that I might either return with the money, or allow you to go and fetch the casket yourself. If you still persist in so unjustly distrusting me, senhor, if you will visit our Lady of the Rock early to-morrow morning, you will there find the holy man performing mass. Wait till it is over, and the people have departed,—for the fame of his sanctity has collected many worshippers there,—follow him to his cave, without speaking; when, if you produce the money, he will restore the casket to you; then, without staying to inquire further, return home. If, however, you will allow me to advise you as a friend, add twenty milreas or so to the amount, to increase the number of masses; for you must remember that it was by your hand the men fell, though I do not mean to say that it was not their own fault; but it will be charity well bestowed, as I fear they were wretched sinners, and, do all we can, they must remain in purgatory a long time.”
Don Luis listened to this long story with considerable doubts as to the truth of the greater part of it, yet it was so in accordance with the ideas and customs of the times, that he could not altogether discredit it; he therefore answered, “I must thank you, Senhor Frade, for the trouble you have taken in my service; and I beg you to inform your holy friend that I will repair to his hermitage to-morrow morning, and will take the amount agreed on to release the jewels.”