Into These Ruins I Attempted To
Penetrate, But The Entrance Was Secured By A Gate.
From the castle
I found my way to the convent, a sad desolate place, formerly the
residence of mendicant brothers of the order of St. Francis.
I was
about to return to the inn, when I heard a loud buzz of voices,
and, following the sound, presently reached a kind of meadow,
where, upon a small knoll, sat a priest in full canonicals, reading
in a loud voice a newspaper, while around him, either erect or
seated on the grass, were assembled about fifty vecinos, for the
most part dressed in long cloaks, amongst whom I discovered my two
friends the curate and friar. A fine knot of Carlist quid-nuncs,
said I to myself, and turned away to another part of the meadow,
where the cattle of the village were grazing. The curate, on
observing me, detached himself instantly from the group, and
followed. "I am told you want a pony," said he; "there now is mine
feeding amongst those horses, the best in all the kingdom of Leon."
He then began with all the volubility of a chalan to descant on the
points of the animal. Presently the friar joined us, who,
observing his opportunity, pulled me by the sleeve and whispered,
"Have nothing to do with the curate, master, he is the greatest
thief in the neighbourhood; if you want a pony, my brother has a
much better, which he will dispose of cheaper." "I shall wait till
I arrive at Leon," I exclaimed, and walked away, musing on priestly
friendship and sincerity.
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