Marianela 9

Marianela 9

However, they now had to get over a little fence, and she slipped her

hand into his. After surmounting this obstacle, they went along a lane

hedged in on each side by luxuriant ivy and brambles. Nela held the

branches back that they might not scratch her companion's face, and at

last, after going down-hill for a considerable time, they went up a

slope shaded by chestnut and walnut trees. When they had reached the

top Pablo said:

 

"If you do not mind we will sit down here. I hear some people going

past."

 

"They are the people returning from the market at Homedes. To-day is

Wednesday. The high-road runs just below and we can rest here before

going on."

 

"It is the best thing we can do. Choto, come here."

 

The trio seated themselves.

 

"The place is full of flowers," said Nela. "What beauties!"

 

"Pick me some. Though I cannot see them, I like to hold them in my

hand. I fancy I can hear them."

 

"Here are some lovely ones."

 

"As I hold them in my hand I fancy that they make me feel and

understand--I cannot tell you how--that they are pretty and gay. There

is something inside me, that they seem to belong to, and that answers

to them. Do you know, Nela, I fancy that I can really see, inside, as

it were."

 

"Oh! yes, I quite understand--we have everything inside us there. The

sun, the flowers, the moon and wide blue sky, with all the stars--we

have them all there; I mean that besides all the beautiful things

outside us, and around us, we carry others with us in our minds. Here

you have a flower--and another, and another--six, all quite different.

Now, what do you think flowers are?"

 

"Flowers," said the blind youth, puzzled and lifting them to his face.

"Flowers are I fancy as if the earth smiled; but, in truth, I know very

little about plants and flowers."

 

"Merciful Mother! what terrible ignorance!" cried Nela, stroking her

friend's hands. "Flowers are the stars of the earth."

 

"What an extravagant fancy! And what are the stars then?"

 

"The stars are the eyes of those who have gone to Heaven and look down

on us."

 

"Well, but then the flowers...."

 

"Are the eyes of those who are dead and have not gone straight to

Heaven," said the girl, with all the decision and conviction of a

Doctor of Theology. "The dead are buried in the ground; but as they

cannot lie still there without just peeping out at the world, they put

forth something which takes the form of a flower. When, in a field

there are many, many flowers, it is because--once upon a time, long

ago, a great many people were buried there."

 

"No, no," said Pablo very seriously. "Do not believe such nonsense. Our

holy religion teaches us that the spirit quits the flesh and that our

mortal life comes to an end. What is buried, Nela, is a mere shell of

useless clay which can neither think, nor feel, nor even see."

 

"The books say so--but Señana says that books are full of lies."

 

"But faith and reason say so too, dear Nela. Your imagination makes you

believe a number of foolish things, but by degrees I will show you your

errors, and you will have true and right ideas about everything in this

world and the other."

 

"Aye, aye! I know, lessons at three for a penny!--And you wanted to

make me believe that the sun stands still and the earth spins round and

round it! How can you know, you who cannot see. Merciful Heaven! May I

die on the spot, if the earth is not as steady as a rock and the sun

running on. _Señorito mio_, I do not set up for learning, but I have

spent many hours of the day and night in looking at the sky, and I know

how the machine works.--The earth is below and full of islands, some

large and some small. The sun comes up on this side and goes down out

there. It is God Almighty's palace."

 

"Foolish child!"

 

"But why not? Ah! you have never seen a fine day and clear sky; why,

child, you could fancy blessing was dropping down from it. I do not

think there could be wicked people--nobody could be wicked--if they

would only turn up their faces and see the great eye that looks down

upon us."

 

"Your religion is full of superstition, my little Nela. I will teach

you something better."

 

"Nobody has taught me anything," said María very simply. "But I myself,

whoever may object, have found out in my own head a great many ideas

that comfort me, and so when a good idea occurs to me, I say: 'Of

course, it must be so; it cannot be otherwise.' At night, when I am

alone at home, I wonder what will become of us when we die, and I think

how much the Holy Virgin loves us."

 

"Yes, she is our loving Mother."

 

"And I look up at the sky and I feel her close over my head, just as

when you go up to any one, you feel the warmth of their breath. She

looks at us night and day through all the lovely things there are in

the world--do not laugh at me."

 

"Those lovely things...?"

 

"Are her eyes, of course. Oh! you would understand it if you had eyes

yourself. You have not seen a white cloud, a tree, a flower, running

water, a little child, a little lamb, the sparkling dew, the moon

sailing across the sky, and the stars, which are the eyes of the good

men who are dead...."

 

"They would not want to go up there if they lie under the ground

throwing out flowers."

 

"Only hear this all-knowing fellow! Why they stay down there only till

they are purified of sin, and then they mount and fly up there. Yes,

I believe it, simpleton. Why, what can the stars be if they are not

the souls of those who are saved? Do not you know that stars sometimes

come down? I, I myself, have seen them fall; down, down, leaving a ray

of light behind them. Yes, Señor, the stars come down when they have

something to tell us here below."

 

"Oh, Nela!" Pablo exclaimed eagerly. "Your wild imaginings, absurd as

they are, charm and captivate me, for they betray the innocence of your

soul and the strength of your fancy. All your errors even are part of

an earnest disposition to know the truth, and of great gifts, which

would be very superior talents if they were cultivated by reason and

education. You must acquire one precious accomplishment of which I am

deprived--you must positively learn to read."

 

"To read!--And who is to teach me?"

 

"My father will; I will ask him to teach you. You know he never refuses

me anything. What a pity it is you should live in such a wretched way;

your mind is a mine of treasures. You are goodness and sweetness

itself and have a lovely imagination. God has given you a large share

of all the gifts that are in his store and part of himself; I know

it well--I cannot see what is outside, but I can see within, and I

know all the wonders of your spirit that you have shown me since you

have been my guide.--It is a year and a half now, and it seems like

yesterday, that we first began our walks together--and yet, no; I

have known you a thousand years. How is it that there is such a close

relationship between your feelings and mine? Just now, for instance,

you have talked all sorts of extravagant nonsense, and I, who know the

truth about the world and religion, I was stirred to enthusiasm as I

listened to you. I feel as if it were a voice speaking in my own heart."

 

"Holy Mother!" exclaimed the girl, folding her hands. "And can he see

something else that I feel?"

 

"What is that?"

 

"That I was put into the world expressly to be your _lazarillo_, and

that my eyes would be of no use at all, if it were not to guide you and

to tell you how beautiful the world is."

 

The blind boy turned his head suddenly and eagerly, and putting out his

hands to touch the child by his side, he said anxiously:

 

"Tell me, Nela--what are you like?"

 

But Nela did not answer; the question was a stab to her heart.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER VII.

 

MORE ABSURDITIES.

 

 

By this time they were rested, and they went on till they reached the

beginning of the grove beyond Saldeoro. Here they turned off into a

clump of ancient walnut trees, of which the trunks and roots made

a sort of step-ladder in the soil, with mossy hollows and backs so

perfect for seats, that the hand of man could have made no better. From

the top of the slope trickled a thread of water, tumbling from stone

to stone, till it fell exhausted into a little basin constructed to be

a reservoir to feed the conduit by which the neighboring houses were

supplied. Before them the land sloped gently away, affording a lovely

panorama of green hills with scattered groves and villas, and meadow

plains where hundreds of cattle grazed and wandered peacefully. Quite

in the background, between two lofty heights which were the farthest

limit of the land, lay a wide segment of purely blue sea. It was such a

landscape as makes a man feel to the utmost his relations to infinity

and eternity.

 

Pablo had seated himself on the trunk of a tree, resting his left arm

on the edge of the basin; with his right hand he pulled at the boughs

which hung low enough to touch his forehead, on which now and again the

sunbeams played, as the boughs stirred.

 

"What are you doing, Nela?" asked he, after a pause, not hearing the

steps, the voice, nor even the breathing of his companion. "What are

you about, and where are you?"

 

"Here I am," said Nela, laying her hand on his shoulder. "I was looking

at the sea."

 

"Ah! it must be a long way off."

 

"It is visible between the hills of Ficóbriga."

 

"Very large--immensely large--so wide that you might look all day, and

not have done looking--is it not?" "There is only a piece to be seen from here--like the bit you cut off with your teeth when you put a slice of bread in your mouth."