CHAPTER II
AN OLD RED CAPE
Morning came. Pilar attended her sick grandfather and made himcomfortable in his bed. He did not speak to her. He seemed to want todoze all the time.
She went into her room and knelt down beside the wooden chest. She mustgo now and sell one of the treasures. Which one should it be?
She took out each in turn and looked at them. All were soprecious--parts of her mother's life. Here was an old pair of castanets,scarred and battered, not so pretty as the beautiful comb, the handsomeclock, the embroidered bonnet, or--
Perhaps she would sell those ugly castanets. And yet--just look atthis old red cape! Like a bullfighter's cape, only small and faded andtorn--surely the least interesting and attractive of her treasures. Shetook it into her grandfather's room.
STREET OF THE SERPENTS]
"Grandfather," she said, "I am going to the shop of Juan (hwaen)Sanchez, and I shall ask him to buy this old cape. With the money Ishall buy food."
Her grandfather opened his dull eyes and looked first at the black-eyed,rosy little Pilar and then at the old red cape.
"It belonged, once long ago, to--Tony--" he began.
Then his voice trailed off. He closed his eyes and fell asleep again. Hewas very feeble.
Pilar kissed him gently and stole out of the house.
The narrow streets of Seville looked like thin Arabs with their armspressed close to their white-robed sides. They were bright withsunlight. They were noisy with squawking motor horns, with chatteringmen and women.
Juan's shop was on the Street of the Serpents, a wriggling ribbonof a street with booths and shops and cafes--a street of ragged people,of staring people, of chanting, selling people. But no automobiles orwagons were allowed upon the Street of the Serpents.
Pilar met Juan Sanchez at the door of his tiny shop.
"Good morning, Senorita (s[=a]'ny[=o]-r[=e]'-tae) Pilar," he smiled.
He was glad to see Pilar. Everyone in Spain is always glad to seechildren. This is a good thing, because Spain is overflowing withchildren.
"Good morning, Senor (s[=a]-ny[=o]r') Juan," said the little girl. Then,timidly she held up the faded old cape. "Will you buy this from me?" sheasked. "My grandfather is ill, and I must have money to pay for food andmedicine."
Juan looked at the cape. He said nothing, but his mouth twitched asthough it wanted to smile. He turned the cape inside out and stared atsomething he saw.
"The name 'Tony' is printed in ink on the inside of this cape," he said.
But Pilar was not interested. She only looked up at him and repeatedearnestly, "Will you buy it, senor? Will you?"
Juan shook his head. "No, Pilar," he answered. "I cannot buy it becauseit is worth nothing to me."
Then as he saw the cloud cover her smile, he added, "But it may be wortha great deal to you if you will send it away!"
"If I will send it away, senor?" Pilar thought that the good Juan mustbe teasing her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," he said, "that you must send it to America to the one whosename is written here."
He pointed to the name Tony. It meant nothing until Juan explained.
ALCAZAR GARDENS, SEVILLE]
"Years ago," he said, "Tony was a little boy who played in the streetsof Seville. He liked to play bullfight. This is the cape with which heangered the make-believe bull. I was that bull."
"You, Juan? You were the bull?" laughed Pilar.
"Yes, and a fierce one with great horns which I held proudly to myhead," answered Juan. "But today," he went on, "today this Tony--ah, heis a very rich man. He has made many American dollars."
"But how did his cape come to be among my mother's souvenirs?" askedPilar.
"When Tony went away to seek his fortune in America," said Juan, "hemust have given it to your mother. They lived next door to each otherwhen they were children. They were very good friends."
"But why should I send the cape to Tony in America?" asked Pilar.
"Because," answered Juan, "I am sure that he will remember your motherand help you in your trouble."
Pilar's eyes shone. "Oh, do you think so?" she cried.
JUAN, THE SHOPKEEPER]
Juan nodded his head knowingly. "I shall send it for you, Pilar," hesaid. "And I shall write a letter, too, and tell Tony about your sickgrandfather. Now take this money, child, and buy what you need."
He pressed some coins into Pilar's hand, but she shrank back.
"Oh, no, no!" she exclaimed. "I cannot take money from you, senor, whenI have given you nothing for it!"
Juan laughed. "Very well, little proud one," he said. "You may bring mesomething else tomorrow."
Pilar thought of the old pair of castanets.
She asked Juan whether he would take them, and he replied, "Of course.It is not difficult to sell castanets in Seville."
So Pilar left the shop of Juan Sanchez, and her heart sang as sheskipped along. She bought bread and fish and eggs and she took themhome.
She cooked the fish and the eggs in oil, as Spanish people do. Then shepoured some milk out of a pitcher and tried to make her grandfather eatand drink.
After that, she went into her tiny room and once again opened the woodenchest. This time she took out the magic castanets, whose mysterioushistory she did not know.
SEVILLE]
But her grandfather knew all those terrible legends which had beenhanded down through the family. He was too intelligent really to believethem but when Pilar came into his room holding the clappers in her hand,his eyes suddenly filled with fear.
"What are you doing with the castanets, Pilly?" he asked in his weakvoice.
"I am going to sell them to Juan Sanchez," answered Pilar, smoothing hispillow. "Then I shall buy a little chicken and cook it for your dinner."
"No, no!" The old man tried to sit up in bed. "Do not sell the cast--"
But Pilar interrupted him. "Please, Grandfather," she said. "You mustnot talk. You must rest while I am gone."
She made him lie down again and he sank back wearily, closing his eyes.He was too weak to say any more, but his lips began to move.
"Castanets, with--magic--spell--" he muttered to himself.
The words were muffled. Pilar could not understand them.
She patted his hand gently and said, "Go to sleep, dear Grandfather. Donot worry. Pilar will take good care of you."
Then she sang a little song which sounded like a Moorish chant. Andperhaps it was, for Spain once was ruled by the Moors, who left much oftheir art and music behind them when they were driven out.
Pilar's soothing voice soon lulled her grandfather to sleep. And so itwas that he did not finish the verse about the castanets.
It was a pity, too, as you will agree when you have heard the legend ofthe castanets in old Cadiz (k[)a]d'[)i]z).
The Little Spanish Dancer Page 3