two years after the events just recorded, a still greater sorrow befell this worthy family, so united and so affectionate, as the families of the peasantry usually are. michael drew the lot in a second conscription, as gaspar had done before; and as he was thus obliged to serve on his own account, the son of his adopted parents, whom he could not now serve as a substitute, was once more called to the ranks. four years more passed; and just when they were expecting michael home, his time of service having expired, and while catherine was preparing her wedding garments, a cry, uttered by the queen of spain, resounded through the country, electrifying the people and producing a universal outburst of patriotic enthusiasm— long live spain! death to the moor who has insulted her! this cry was re-echoed throughout the length and breadth of he peninsula, accompanied by the clash of the warrior's sword and the chink of the rich man's gold, offered on the altar of the country's honor; it was repeated by the people, who gave their blood; by the sacred episcopate, who blessed the cause of the country and of christianity, and whose words powerfully influenced not only timid and pious consciences, but all by their wisdom, prudence, and judgment. the sisters of charity offered their devoted services; the nuns made lint and sacred scapulars of the virgin; the ladies also made lint and bandages which they moistened with their tears; and even schoolboys, fired with enthusiasm, asked to be allowed to go to the popular war against the moors. [note: this assertion might be proved by many examples; but it will suffice to transcribe here a letter written by a nephew of mine, the son of marquis c——. "senor governor: although i am only a boy of eight i am moved to say to you that i would like to die for the country, and that, being fond of military things, i wish you would permit me to go fight the moors.— written by p—— p——." it is to be observed that this boy is docile, and gentle and modest in disposition, rather than daring or arrogant.—note of the author]
michael, who shared in the general enthusiasm for the war, on receiving his discharge, enlisted again, refusing to accept the premium for re-enlisting, for such time as the war in africa should last.
john joseph, who in winter followed the occupation of a muleteer, brought home this news on his return from one of his trips, in which he had seen his sons, who were both serving in the king's regiment, in africa. maria, on hearing it, burst into tears.
"they were right in saying last year, when the saddle-shaped comet appeared, that it came to foretell a war with the moors!" she exclaimed disconsolately.
"the comet had no resemblance to a saddle," answered her husband, with martial ardor; "you know very well that what they said was that it was the same star that had guided the kings who went to bethlehem to declare that christ was the true messiah; very well, our people will go to the moorish country now to tell them that spanish christians are tired of putting up with the atrocities and the insults of the accursed moors."
"but a great many people will be killed in this war, john joseph, and that is heartbreaking to think of; yes heartbreaking, although you with your warlike notions say it is not."
"oh, yes, you would like this war to be like a war between women; a war to the knife, but without any one killed; well, war with those who use a beard, and especially if they wear the king's uniform and have the flag of spain, under which they are fighting, to defend, is another matter; with them, the question is to conquer or die."
"for that very reason," replied maria disconsolately, "couldn't he have come back and stayed quietly at home, after he had fulfilled his duty?"
"yes, like you, at the spinning-wheel; but you must know that no new sailing vessel ever yet wanted to be a pontoon. don't you know that?"
maria and catherine kept on crying.
"if you had even told me that you were going to see them," said the former, "i would have given you some scapulars to take them."
"they have them already, they have them already, and blessed by the bishop of malaga. i told you before, wife, that this war is a holy war, which will rejoice st. ferdinand in heaven. but you are in a crying humor, it seems," he added impatiently, seeing that his wife and daughter were still shedding tears. "why, what would you have? that they should remain here like women, instead of going to throttle those accursed moors who don't believe in christ, who deny his holy mother, and who call the spaniards 'hens' and 'christian dogs'? but let them wait a bit, and i'll warrant they won't want a second taste of the broth those hens will make them! they never catch a spaniard, even in time of peace, that they don't quarter or impale him; you see that makes every spaniard's blood boil! i don't know how i can contain myself that i don't go too, for i tell you that the soles of my feet are itching to go, and the day you least expect it, i'll take my gun and my blanket and join the camp."
"john joseph! in the virgin's name! isn't it enough to have your sons there? would you leave us entirely alone?"
"it wouldn't be for long."
"hush, hush! god only knows how long it might be, for those people are in their own country, defending their homes, and you know that they are ferocious, savage, fearless, and valiant."
"that they are, but as far as being fearless and valiant is concerned, we
spaniards are more so."
"and god knows what hunger and privation they are going to suffer!"
"don't imagine it, but even if it should be so, give the spanish soldier plenty of water to drink and he has all he needs. why, the joy of that regiment as they went on board was plain to be seen! and to think that i couldn't have gone with them!"
"john joseph, in the virgin's name, don't indulge in those boyish explosions; remember, you are sixty-five years old."
"to-day i am twenty, wife, i am twenty; do you hear?"
"your fiery spirit deceives you; and i won't hear you talk about going to the war, when you have two sons in it already."
"and if i had more sons they should be in it, too. do you think that i should be behind the father of the first soldier killed at the taking of the serrallo, who when he heard of his son's death called another son, took him to the alcalde of his village, and said: 'my son has been killed in the war in africa; here is another to take his place'?"
"from what you say, i shouldn't wonder if you had urged michael to go to the war?"
"michael didn't need any urging, michael has done well, and so i told him. 'go without fear,' i cried to him, as i came away, 'the weather-vane in your village points for spain; and don't lose heart, if there should be some reverse, for reverses there must be in war, unless it be by a miracle of god; but many there won't be; and the devil will have little chance to get at the weather-vane of the peak of the alpujarras, for the one who has charge of it now is an archangel, your patron saint, michael, and the patron saint of spain, and he won't neglect his business, and he knows how to keep the devil at a respectful distance!"
