The Three Brides, Love in a Cottage, and Other Tales | Page 2

old duenna, Donna
Margarita, whose vinegar aspect and sharp tongue might well keep at a

distance the boldest gallants of the court and camp. For the rest, some
half dozen workmen and servitors, and a couple of stout Asturian
serving wenches made up the establishment of the wealthy artisan. As
the chief care of the latter was to accumulate treasure, his family, while
they were denied no comfort, were debarred from luxury, and, perhaps,
fared the better from this very frugality of the master. Yet in the stable,
which occupied a portion of the basement story of his residence,--the
other half being devoted to the almacen, or store,--there were a couple
of long-tailed Flemish mares, and a heavy, lumbering chariot; and in
the rear of the house a garden, enclosed on three sides with a stone wall,
and comprising arbors, a fountain, and a choice variety of fruits and
flowers.
One evening, the goldsmith's daughter and her cousin sat in their
apartment, on the second story, peeping out through the closed
"jalousies," or blinds, into the twilight street, haply on the watch for
some gallant cavalier, whose horsemanship and costume they might
admire or criticize. Seeing nothing there, however, to attract their
attention, they turned to each other.
"Juanita," said the goldsmith's daughter, "I believe I have secured an
admirer."
"An admirer!" exclaimed the pretty cousin. "If your father and dame
Margarita didn't keep us cooped here like a pair of pigeons, we should
have, at least, twenty apiece. But what manner of man is this phoenix
of yours? Is he tall? Has he black eyes, or blue? Is he courtier or
soldier?"
"He is tall," replied Magdalena, smiling; "but for his favor, or the color
of his eyes, or quality, I cannot answer. His face and figure shrouded in
a cloak, his sombrero pulled down over his eyes, he takes up his station
against a pillar of the church whenever I go to San Ildefonso with my
duenna, and watches me till mass is ended. I have caught him following
our footsteps. But be he gentle or simple, fair or dark, I know not."
"A very mysterious character!" cried Juanita, laughing, "like unto the
bravo of some Italian tale. Jesu Maria!" she exclaimed, springing to the

window, "what goodly cavalier rides hither? His mantle is of three-pile
velvet, and he wears golden spurs upon his heels. And with what a
grace he sits and manages his fiery genet! Pray Heaven your suitor be
as goodly a cavalier."
Magdalena gazed forth upon the horseman, and her heart silently
confessed that the praises of her cousin were well bestowed. As the
cavalier approached the goldsmith's house, he checked the impatient
speed of his horse, and gazed upward earnestly at the window where
the young girls sat.
"Magdalena!" cried the mischievous Juanita, "old Margarita is not here
to document us, and I declare your beauty shall have one chance." As
she spoke she threw open the blind, and exposed her lovely and
blushing cousin to the gaze of the cavalier.
Ardently and admiringly he gazed upon her dark and faultless features,
and then raising his plumed hat, bowed to his very saddle bow, and
rode on, but turned, ever and anon, till he was lost in the distance and
gradual darkening of the street.
"Mutual admiration!" cried the gay Juanita, clapping her hands. "Thank
me for the stratagem. Yon cavalier is, without a doubt, the mysterious
admirer of San Ildefonso."
Don Julio Montero--for that was the name of the cavalier--returned
again beneath the casement, and again saw Magdalena. He also made
some purchases of the old goldsmith, and managed to speak a word
with his fair daughter in the shop; and in spite of the duenna, billets
were exchanged between the parties. The very secrecy with which this
little intrigue was managed, the mystery of it, influenced the
imagination of Magdalena and increased the violence of her attachment,
and loving with all the fervor of her meridian nature, she felt that any
disappointment would be her death.
One evening, as her secret suitor was passing along a narrow and
unfrequent street, a light touch was laid upon his shoulder, and turning,
he perceived a tall figure, muffled in a long, dark cloak.

"Senor Montero," said the stranger, "one word with you." And then,
observing that he hesitated, he threw open his cloak, and added, "Nay,
senor, suspect not that my purpose is unfriendly; you see I have no
arms, while you wear both rapier and dagger. I merely wish to say a
few words on a matter of deep import to yourself."
"Your name, senor," replied the other, "methinks should precede any
communication you have to make me, would you secure my
confidence."
"My name, senor, I cannot disclose."
"Umph! a somewhat strange adventure!" muttered