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Words: 32563 in 13 pages
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THE GRANDEE
THE GRANDEE'S HOUSE
The wind blew stronger at the crossing of Santa Barbara than in any other part of the town. This uncovered passage, between the bishop's palace and the walls of a courtyard of the cathedral, just by the chain which regulates the lightning conductor, leads finally under an archway, a murky corner where the blast, confined within a narrow space, howls and moans on such infernal nights as this.
A man, muffled up to the eyes, crossed with rapid steps the little square in front of the archbishop's house, and entered this recess. The force of the hurricane stopped him, and the rain penetrating between the collar of his coat and the brim of his hat, almost blinded him. He made a few seconds' stand against the violence of the whirlwind, and then, instead of uttering any exclamation of impatience, which would have been more than excusable under the circumstances, he merely gave vent to a long-drawn sigh of distress:
"Oh! my Jesus! what a night!"
He cowered up against the wall, and when the wind had somewhat abated, he resumed his course. Passing under the archway that connects the palace with the cathedral, he entered the widest and best-lighted part of the passage. An oil-lamp fixed in the corner served as its only light. The wretched thing, seconded by a tinfoil reflector placed at the back, made ineffectual attempts to pierce the gloom of the farthest corners.
Ten yards off nobody would have thought it was there, and yet to our muffled traveller it must have seemed an Edison lamp of ten thousand candle-power, from the way he drew his coat-collar higher about his face, and from the haste in which he avoided the pavement, and crept along by the wall where the shadows were deepest. In this way he arrived at the Calle de Santa Lucia, cast a rapid glance around him, and renewed his course on the darkest side of the way. Although one of the most central streets, the Calle de Santa Lucia is solitary to an extreme. It is closed at one end by the base of the tower of the cathedral, a graceful, elegant structure like few to be found in Spain, and so it is only used as a thoroughfare by canons going to the choir, or devotees on their way to early Mass. In this short, straight, narrow street, the palace of Qui?ones de Leon was situated--a large, dreary, uninteresting-looking building with projecting iron balconies. It was two storeys high, and over the central balcony there was an enormous roughly carved shield, supported by two griffins in high relief, as rudely carved as the quarterings.
One side of the house looked on to a little, damp, melancholy, neglected garden, enclosed by a wall of regular elevation; and the other on to a dull, even damper, narrow street which ran between the house and the black, discoloured wall of the church of San Rafael. To pass from the palace to the church, where the Qui?ones had a private pew, was a little gallery, or covered way, smaller, but similar to that of the archbishop, over the passage of Santa Barbara.
Our muffled friend, with a rapid step, keeping as much in shadow as possible, arrived at the door of the palace. There he stopped again, cast a furtive glance down both sides of the street, and entered the portico. It was large, and paved with stones like the street; the bare, discoloured, whitewashed walls were dimly illumined by an oil-lamp hung from the centre. The man quickly crossed it, and before pulling the bell-cord, placed his ear to the door, and listened long and attentively. Convinced that nobody was descending the staircase, he gave one more look down the street. At last he decided to undo his cloak, and drew from under its folds a bundle, which he placed with a trembling hand near the door. It was a basket, covered with a woman's mantle, which hid the contents from view, although they could be pretty well guessed, for from the time of Moses, mysterious baskets seem destined for the consignment of infants.
The man, being now free of his burthen, pulled the bell-cord three times, and the door was immediately opened from above by means of another cord. The three pulls of the bell showed that the visitor to the aristocratic mansion of the Qui?ones was a nobleman on a par with the Se?ores. This was an old-established custom of unknown origin. A menial, a servant, an inferior in any degree, only rang once, ordinary visitors rang twice, and the half dozen, or more, persons that the important Se?or of Qui?ones considered his equals in Lancia, rang three times. If those in the town, who had never been admitted to the sacred precincts of the mansion, joked with the habitu?s of the place on the subject, their witticisms fell flat; but even if the shafts did go home, the feudal custom was so universally respected, that none but the privileged few dared to give the three signals pertaining to the highest rank. Paco Gomez once ventured to break the rule for a joke, but he was received so coldly when he entered the drawing-room that he never cared to repeat the experiment.
So the man of the basket entered quickly, shut the door, crossed the hall, and ascended the wide stone staircase, where holes, worn by long use, retained the damp.
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