The Manuscript Found in Saragossa (20 page)

BOOK: The Manuscript Found in Saragossa
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‘In my view,' said the hermit, ‘it was Menippus's soul rather than his body that she wanted to devour. This empusa was no more than the
demon of lust. But I can't imagine what the words were which gave so great powers to Apollonius. For after all, he was not a Christian and could not deploy the awesome arsenal which the Church has placed in our hands. Moreover, philosophers may have managed to gain some power over demons before the birth of Christ, but the Cross itself, which silenced all their oracles, must have destroyed all other powers of idolaters. And I think that Apollonius, far from being able to drive out the most paltry of demons, could not even have had authority over the least ghost, because such spirits only return to earth by divine permission and only do so to ask for Masses, a proof in itself that there weren't any ghosts in pagan times.'

Uzeda was of a different opinion. He maintained that pagans had been plagued by ghosts as much as Christians, although no doubt for different reasons, and to prove it he picked up a volume of Pliny's letters, from which he read the following:
3

THE STORY OF ATHENAGORAS
   THE PHILOSOPHER   

There was in Athens a large house which would have been pleasant to live in, but which was ill-famed and deserted. Often in the silent watches of the night a noise of iron striking iron was heard, and if one listened more closely one could hear a rattle of chains which seemed to start in the distance and then come nearer. Soon a spectre would make its appearance in the shape of a thin, downcast old man with a long beard, hair standing on end and irons on his feet and hands which he rattled in a terrifying way. This ghastly apparition caused insomnia in those who set eyes on it, and insomnia is the cause of many illnesses which have a tragic outcome. For although the spectre did not appear by day, the visual image he made did not fade from one's eyes and the terror was just as great, even though the object which had caused it had vanished. In the end the house was abandoned and given over altogether to the phantom. A board was none the less put up to make it known that the house was for sale or to let, in the hope that a
person not informed about so terrible an inconvenience might be fooled into living there.

At that time Athenagoras the philosopher came to Athens, saw the board and asked the price of the house. The reasonableness of the asking price aroused his suspicions. He made inquiries and was told the story, but far from making him withdraw, it encouraged him to complete the purchase without delay. He moved into the house, and that evening he ordered his bed to be laid out in the front room, called for writing-tables and a light and told his servants to retire to the back of the house. Fearing that his all-too-active imagination might succumb to baseless fear and produce idle phantoms, he concentrated his mind, his eyes and his hands on his writing.

During the first part of the night silence reigned in the house as everywhere else. But a little later he heard the clanking of iron on iron and the rattling of chains. He did not raise his eyes. He did not put down his pen. But he steeled himself and tried as it were to blot out all noise.

But the noise grew louder and seemed to be coming first from the door of his room, then from inside the room itself. He looked up and saw the spectre just as it had been described. The spectre was standing and beckoning to him. Athenagoras gestured to him to wait a little and went on writing as though nothing untoward had happened. The spectre then started to rattle his chains again in the very ears of the philosopher.

Athenagoras turned round and saw the spectre beckoning again. He got up, took the light and followed the phantom, who walked ahead with a slow tread as though weighed down by the chains. When he reached the courtyard of the house he suddenly disappeared, leaving our philosopher on his own. Athenagoras then picked some leaves and grass and put them on the spot where the spectre had left him, so that he would find it again. The next day he went to the magistrates and asked them to have the spot excavated. This was done. Fleshless bones bound up in chains were found. Time and the dampness of the earth had caused the flesh to rot away, leaving only bones in the fetters. The remains were collected together and the town assumed the responsibility of burying them. And ever since the
corpse was paid its last respects it no longer disturbed the peace of the house.

When the cabbalist finished reading he added, ‘Ghosts have appeared throughout history, Reverend Father, as we see from the history of the Witch of Endor,
4
and cabbalists have always had the power to summon them up. But I admit that in other ways there have been great changes in the world of demons. Vampires, among others, are new inventions, if I may put it that way. I myself distinguish two species: the vampires of Hungary and Poland, who are corpses which leave their tombs at night to suck human blood, and the vampires of Spain, who are foul spirits which assume the first dead body they come across, turn it into any imaginable shape and…'

Realizing what the cabbalist was getting at, I left the table with a haste which was somewhat discourteous and went out on to the terrace. I had been there for less than half an hour when I saw my two gypsy girls, who appeared to be coming towards the castle and from that distance looked just like Emina and Zubeida. I immediately decided to use my key. I went into my bedroom, fetched my sword and cloak and then hurried down to the river gate but, having opened it, the hardest part was yet to come, for I had still to cross the river. To do so, I had to edge along the retaining wall of the terrace, holding on to the iron rings which had been placed there for that purpose. I eventually reached the bed of stones and by leaping from one to the next I reached the other bank and came face to face with the gypsy girls. They were not my cousins. They did not have their refinement although they were not as common and vulgar as the women of their race usually are. It almost seemed as if they were only playing at being gypsies. They wanted first to tell my fortune. One opened out my hand and the other pretended to see my future in it, saying:

‘Ah, Señor, que veja en vuestra bast? Dirvanos kamela ma por quien? Por demonios!'

That is to say, ‘Ah, sir, what do I see in your hand? Much love but for whom? For demons!'

As you may well imagine, I would never have guessed that ‘dirvanos kamela' meant ‘much love' in the gypsy tongue. But they took the trouble to explain it to me and then they each took one of my arms and led me to their camp, where they introduced me to a healthy-looking and still robust old man who they said was their father.

The old man said in a mischievous way, ‘Do you know, Señor caballero, that you are in the midst of a band of which some ill is spoken in these parts? Are you not a little afraid of us?'

At the word ‘afraid' my hand went to the hilt of my sword, but the old gypsy held out his hand in a friendly manner and said, ‘I am sorry, Señor caballero, I did not mean to offend you. Indeed such a thought was so far from my mind that I am inviting you to spend a few days in our company. If a journey in these mountains is something which may interest you, we can promise to show you their most beautiful and their most awesome valleys, the most agreeable parts and, hard by them, what are called their picturesque horrors. And if you enjoy hunting, you will have plenty of free time to satisfy your taste for it.'

I accepted this offer all the more eagerly because I was beginning to be bored by the cabbalist's lectures and the isolation of his castle.

Then the old gypsy led me to his tent and said, ‘Señor caballero, this tent will be your quarters for as long as you choose to spend time with us. And I'll have a small open tent erected right next to it for me to sleep in so that I can better see to your security.'

I replied to the old man that as I had the honour of being a captain in the Walloon Guards I was bound to rely for my protection on my sword alone.

This reply made him laugh and he said, ‘Señor caballero, the muskets of the bandits in these parts could kill a captain in the Walloon Guards as easily as anyone else. Once they have been told about you, you will even be able to leave our band and go off on your own, but until then it would be imprudent to try.'

The old man was quite right and I felt somewhat ashamed at my bravado.

We spent the evening wandering around the camp and talking to the young gypsy girls, who seemed to me to be the most wanton and also the happiest women in the world. Then supper was served. The table was laid in the shade of a carob tree near the chief's tent. We stretched out on deerskins and the food was served on a buffalo hide, which had been treated to resemble Morocco leather, and which took the place of a table-cloth. The food was good, especially the game. The chief's daughters poured out the wine, but I preferred to drink water from a spring which flowed from the rock a few paces away. The chief kept the conversation going pleasantly. He seemed to know all about my adventures and predicted that I would have more.

At last it was time to go to bed. One was made up for me in the chief's tent and a guard was posted at the door. But towards the middle of the night I was awoken with a start. Then I sensed that my blanket was being lifted from both sides at the same time, and I felt two bodies pressing against mine. ‘Merciful God,' I said to myself. ‘Will I have to wake up again between two hanged men?'

But this idea soon left my head. I supposed that what was happening was an aspect of gypsy hospitality and that it would be hardly right for a soldier of my age not to go along with it. Later I fell asleep in the firm conviction that my companions were not two hanged men.

The Twelfth Day

Indeed, I did not wake up under the gallows of Los Hermanos but in my bed, roused by the noises the gypsies made as they struck camp.

‘Get up, Señor caballero,' said the chief to me. ‘We must cover a lot of ground today. You will ride on a mule which has not its equal in all Spain. You will not even feel yourself going along.'

I hastily dressed and mounted my mule. We went ahead with four gypsies all armed to the teeth. The rest of the band followed at a distance, led by the two girls with whom I thought I had spent the night. Sometimes the zigzags the paths made in the mountains caused me to pass several hundred feet above or below them. I stopped to look at them and they then seemed to me to be my cousins. The old chief seemed amused by my perplexity.

After about four hours of strenuous progress we reached a plateau high up in the mountains and found there a large number of bales, which the old chief checked off. Then he said:

‘Señor caballero, this is merchandise from England and Brazil; enough to supply the four kingdoms of Andalusia, Granada, Valencia and Catalonia. The king loses somewhat by our little enterprise but he gets it back in another way, as a little smuggling consoles his people and keeps them happy. Besides, in Spain everyone is involved in it. Some of these bales will find their way to military barracks, some to monastic cells and yet others to the vaults of the dead. The bales marked in red are due to be seized by the
alguaziles
,
1
who will thereby gain credit with the customs officers and will be all the more devoted to our interests.'

Having said this, the gypsy chief hid the bales in different hollows in the rock. Then he had a meal served in a cave, the view from
which stretched much further than the eye could see, by which I mean that the horizon was so distant that it seemed to blend into the sky. As I had been coming to appreciate the beauties of nature more and more, this sight sent me into a veritable ecstasy which was dispelled by the chief's two daughters, who brought the food. At close quarters, as I have said, they did not look at all like my cousins. Their furtive glances seemed to indicate that they were well pleased with me, but something in me told me that it was not they who had come to visit me in the night.

The girls brought a hot
olla
which some men who had been sent out in advance had been simmering the whole morning. The old chief and I ate copiously, the difference being that he interrupted his eating with the frequent embraces he gave to a skin filled with good wine whereas I was content with water from a nearby spring.

When we had satisfied our appetite I indicated to him that I was curious to know more about him. He demurred but I insisted, and eventually he agreed to tell me his story, which he began as follows:

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