In a little while the Moor was seized with violent convulsions,
which defied all the ministering skill of the simple water-carrier.
The eye of the poor patient acknowledged his kindness. During an
interval of his fits he called him to his side, and addressing him
in a low voice, "My end," said he, "I fear is at hand. If I die, I
bequeath you this box as a reward for your charity": so saying, he
opened his albornoz, or cloak, and showed a small box of sandalwood,
strapped round his body. "God grant, my friend," replied the worthy
little Gallego, "that you may live many years to enjoy your
treasure, whatever it may be." The Moor shook his head; he laid his
hand upon the box, and would have said something more concerning it,
but his convulsions returned with increasing violence, and in a little
while he expired.
The water-carrier's wife was now as one distracted. "This comes,"
said she, "of your foolish good nature, always running into scrapes to
oblige others. What will become of us when this corpse is found in our
house? We shall be sent to prison as murderers; and if we escape
with our lives, shall be ruined by notaries and alguazils."
Poor Peregil was in equal tribulation, and almost repented himself
of having done a good deed. At length a thought struck him. "It is not
yet day," said he; "I can convey the dead body out of the city, and
bury it in the sands on the banks of the Xenil.
Pages:
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283