A day or
two elapsed before he recovered the use of his limbs; he consoled
himself, in the meantime, with the thoughts that though the mule
with the treasure had escaped him, he had previously had some rare
pickings at the infidel spoils. His first care on being able to use
his limbs, was to search beneath his pallet, where he had secreted the
myrtle wreath and the leathern pouches of gold extracted from the
piety of Dame Sanchez. What was his dismay at finding the wreath, in
effect, but a withered branch of myrtle, and the leathern pouches
filled with sand and gravel!
Fray Simon, with all his chagrin, had the discretion to hold his
tongue, for to betray the secret might draw on him the ridicule of the
public, and the punishment of his superior: it was not until many
years afterwards, on his death-bed, that he revealed to his
confessor his nocturnal ride on the Belludo.
Nothing was heard of Lope Sanchez for a long time after his
disappearance from the Alhambra. His memory was always cherished as
that of a merry companion, though it was feared, from the care and
melancholy observed in his conduct shortly before his mysterious
departure, that poverty and distress had driven him to some extremity.
Some years afterwards one of his old companions, an invalid soldier,
being at Malaga, was knocked down and nearly run over by a coach and
six. The carriage stopped; an old gentleman magnificently dressed,
with a bag-wig and sword, stepped out to assist the poor invalid.
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