The Manuscript Found in Saragossa (87 page)

‘I know of your links with the Austrian party, to which I also belong,' he said. ‘If ever you need help you can always count on me. I would take it to be a favour. As for open friendship, you will realize that I cannot engage in it in any event, without exposing both of us needlessly to danger.'

The Duke of Sorriente was right. The party had abandoned me. I had been pushed to the fore, so that I could be dropped at will. I was still left with a considerable fortune, which could easily be transferred to my name because it was in the hands of the Moro brothers. I intended to travel to Rome or to England, but when it was necessary finally to settle on plans I was unable to make up my mind. The very idea of returning to the world made me shudder with horror. An aversion for social relationships has become in a certain way a sort of obsession with me.

Uzeda, who noticed that I was hesitating and didn't know what to
do, advised me to enter the service of the Gomelez.

‘What does this service consist in?' I asked. ‘Isn't it a threat to the peace of my country?'

‘Not at all,' he replied. ‘The Moors hidden in these mountains are planning an Islamic revolution, which is driven by political interests and fanaticism. They have unlimited means, thanks to which they hope to attain their goal. Some of the most famous Spanish families have entered into contact with them for their personal profit. The Inquisition receives considerable sums from them and allows things to go on in the depths of the earth that it would not tolerate on the surface. In a word, trust me, Don Juan, and try living with us in our valleys.'

I was tired of the world and decided to follow Uzeda's advice. The Muslim and pagan gypsies greeted me like a man destined to be their chief and swore me unshakeable loyalty. But it was the gypsy women who confirmed me in my decision. Two of them I found particularly attractive: one called Quita, the other Zita. Both were beautiful and I didn't know which one to choose.

They noticed my hesitation and released me from my predicament by telling me that among their people a man could have several wives and to get married there was no need for a religious ceremony.

To my shame I must confess that I allowed myself to be seduced into such libertine ways. There is only one way of keeping to the path of virtue: it is to avoid all acts which are not clearly enlightened by it. When a man conceals his name, his actions and his plans, he will soon be obliged to hide his whole life. My liaison with the duchess was only blameworthy in that I had had to hide it, but all the secretiveness of my life followed necessarily from this first act of dissimulation. A much more innocent spell kept me in the valleys: the attraction of the life lived there. The vault of the heavens above our heads, the coolness of caves and forests, the sweet air – in a word, nature with all her marvels brought peace to my soul, which had been tormented by the world and its turmoil.

My wives gave me two daughters. I then began to listen more closely to the voice of my conscience. I had seen the sorrow which had carried Manuela to her tomb, and I decided that my daughters would be neither Muslim nor pagan. I could not therefore leave them to
their own devices. I hadn't any choice. I had to remain in the service of the Gomelez. I was entrusted with affairs of the greatest importance, and with vast sums. I was rich and wanted nothing for myself but with the sheikh's permission devoted myself as much as I could to charitable works. I often succeeded in saving people from great misfortune.

All in all, I carried on in the depths of the earth the life I had led on its surface. I became a diplomatic envoy again. I went to Madrid several times, and on several occasions travelled beyond the frontiers of Spain. This active life restored my lost energies, and I became more and more attached to it.

Meanwhile my daughters grew up. On my last journey I took them with me to Madrid. Two young noblemen contrived to win their hearts. The families of these gentlemen have links with the inhabitants of our caves, so we don't have to fear that they will divulge what my daughters might tell them about our valleys. As soon as I have married them I will look for a holy place of retreat where I shall peacefully live out my life, which, although it was not altogether free from faults, cannot be called a criminal one.

You wanted me to tell you my story; I hope that you do not rue your curiosity.

‘You shall know at once,' replied the gypsy. ‘The beating in Barcelona cured him of spying, but as he had received it in the name of Robusti he thought that it hadn't damaged the honour of Busqueros in any way, so he brazenly offered his services to Cardinal Alberoni
¹
and became under this minister a mediocre intriguer, a sort of shadowy image of his protector, who was himself a celebrated one.

‘Later another adventurer, called Ripperda,
²
governed Spain. Under his reign Busqueros knew more good times, but age, which puts an end to the most brilliant careers, deprived Busqueros of the use of his
legs. After he became paralysed he had himself carried to the Plaza del Sol and there he carried on his singular activities by stopping passers-by and meddling if possible in their affairs. Recently I saw him in Madrid beside the most comic person in the world, whom I recognized as Agudez the poet.
³
Old age had deprived him of sight, and the poor fellow consoled himself with the thought that Homer too had been blind. Busqueros was bringing him scraps of gossip and Agudez was turning them into verse; sometimes people would listen to it with pleasure although he had only a shadow of his former talent.'

‘Señor Avadoro,' I then asked, ‘what has happened to Ondina's daughter?'

‘That you will learn later. Please be kind enough to prepare to move on.'

We continued on our way and after much travelling reached a deep valley enclosed by rocks. When the tents had been put up the gypsy chief came up to me and said, ‘Señor Alphonse. Get your cloak and sword and follow me.'

We walked for a hundred paces and reached an opening in the rock, through which I could see a long, dark tunnel.

‘Señor Alphonse,' said the gypsy chief, ‘we all know how intrepid you are. Besides, you are taking this path not for the first time. Follow the tunnel and go down into the depths of the earth as you did the time before. I shall leave you now. Here we must go our own ways.'

Recalling my first visit to those caves, I calmly walked in the darkness for several hours. Eventually I glimpsed the light and reached the tomb, where I saw again the dervish in prayer.

Hearing my steps he turned round and said, ‘Welcome, young man! It gives me pleasure to see you come back. You have been able to keep your promise and remain silent about a part of the secrets which we revealed to you. Now we are going to reveal more of them and we no longer need to swear you to secrecy. Meanwhile, rest and recover your strength.'

I sat down on a stone and the dervish brought me a basket
which I found meat, bread and water. I ate. Then the dervish pushed a panel in the tomb, made it pivot on its hinges and showed me the spiral staircase.

‘Go down there,' he said. ‘You will see what you have to do.'

I counted nearly a thousand steps in the darkness and then reached a cave lit by lamps. I saw a stone bench on which chisels and steel mallets were carefully arranged. In front of the bench there was a shining seam of gold about the size of a man. The metal was dark yellow and seemed quite pure. I realized what was expected of me: I had to extract as much gold as I could. I seized hold of a chisel in my left hand and a mallet in my right, and in a short time became quite a skilled miner. But the chisels became blunt and I had to change them often. Three hours later I had extracted more gold than a man can carry.

I then noticed that the cave was filling up with water. I climbed up some of the steps, but the water continued to rise and I was forced to leave the cave. I went to the dervish. He blessed me and showed me another spiral staircase leading upwards. I climbed it and, when I had once more gone up about a thousand steps, I found myself in a round chamber. It was lit by countless lamps and their glow was reflected in sheets of mica and opal, which decorated its walls.

At the back of the chamber there was a raised throne of gold on which was sitting an old man wearing a snow-white turban. I recognized him to be the hermit in the valley; my cousins, dressed in rich attire, stood near him. He was surrounded by dervishes dressed in white.

‘Young Nazarene,' the sheikh said to me, ‘you have recognized in me the hermit who gave you shelter in the valley of the Guadalquivir and you have guessed that I am the Great Sheikh of the Gomelez. You surely can recall your two wives. The prophet has blessed their pious love. Both are going to be mothers and found the line destined to bring back the caliphate to the descendants of Ali. You have not disappointed the hopes we had placed in you. You returned to the camp without breathing a word of what happened to you in our tunnels. May Allah moisten your forehead with the dew of happiness!'

Then the sheikh stepped down from his throne and kissed me.
My cousins did the same. The dervishes were dismissed and we passed into a second chamber, at the back of which a dinner had been prepared. There were no solemn speeches, no attempts to convert me to Islam. We gaily spent the rest of the night together.