"This is a city of old-time peculiarities," thought the student,
"and doubtless this is one of them with which the inhabitants are
too familiar to be surprised." His own curiosity, however, was
awakened, and being of a social disposition, he accosted the soldier.
"A rare old suit of armor that which you wear, comrade. May I ask
what corps you belong to?"
The soldier gasped out a reply from a pair of jaws which seemed to
have rusted on their hinges.
"The royal guard of Ferdinand and Isabella."
"Santa Maria! Why, it is three centuries since that corps was in
service."
"And for three centuries have I been mounting guard. Now I trust
my tour of duty draws to a close. Dost thou desire fortune?"
The student held up his tattered cloak in reply.
"I understand thee. If thou hast faith and courage, follow me, and
thy fortune is made."
"Softly, comrade, to follow thee would require small courage in
one who has nothing to lose but life and an old guitar, neither of
much value; but my faith is of a different matter, and not to be put
in temptation. If it be any criminal act by which I am to mend my
fortune, think not my ragged cloak will make me undertake it."
The soldier turned on him a look of high displeasure. "My sword,"
said he, "has never been drawn but in the cause of the faith and the
throne. I am a Cristiano viejo, trust in me and fear no evil."
The student followed him wondering.
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