"More than the castanets, Senor Juan," answered the little girl. "For they alone will not pay you for all the money I now need."

She started to open the chest, and Juan started to shake his head. But Pilar caught his arm, and her large, dark eyes pleaded pitifully.

"Oh, take them, please, Senor Juan!" she cried. "For I need a great deal of money! The doctor says that Grandfather will not be able to work for a long time."

She pulled out of the chest the Damascene knife from Toledo, the tall comb from Barcelona, the faded fan from Valladolid, the ancient clock from El Escorial, and the saucy bonnet from Segovia.

"Here, take them, please, senor," she said. "And also--" She put her hand inside the chest and drew out the magic castanets. "These, too,"

she whispered, "for I promised."

[Ill.u.s.tration: POTTERY SHOP, TRIANA]

Juan looked at the old wooden clappers. Then he looked at Pilar. And quite abruptly he turned around to the strong box where he kept his money. He unlocked it and took out some paper bills.

"Here, little Pilar," he said. "Here is the money for you and your grandfather. I shall keep the knife and the clock and the fan, the comb, and the bonnet. But--" He pushed away her hand which held the castanets.

"Keep those, since you love them so much."

Pilar clasped the castanets to her heart and her face lit up like a thousand candles.

"Oh, Senor Juan!" she sighed. "You are so good!"

Juan patted her shoulder.

"It is all right, my child," he said. "And if, later on, you are in need of more money, bring me the castanets. I can sell them to a dancing master who would like to buy them. He is very fond of such antiques."

Pilar did not answer right away. Then she said in a sober voice, "Before I give up the castanets, Senor Juan, I shall first bring you all the rest of my souvenirs. The castanets will be the very last to go. And how I hope that I shall never, never have to part with them!"

[Ill.u.s.tration: COURT OF DOLLS, ALCAZAR]

CHAPTER VII

FOUR OLD PAINTINGS

The Moors said, "Three times three things a woman must have: white skin, white teeth, and white hands; black eyes, black brows, and black lashes; rosy lips, rosy cheeks, and rosy nails."

Little Pilar had all of these. She was a Spanish beauty. But she was not only beautiful; she was also useful. She could sew and cook and take care of a house.

If you had asked Pilar how she had learned to sew and to cook and to take care of a house, she would have shrugged her shoulders and answered, "I did not learn. I just knew."

She just knew, as she knew how to dance.

[Ill.u.s.tration: PILAR]

But poor Pilar had not been able to join her dancing companions in the gardens or the squares for many a day now. Her grandfather's health had not improved very much, and Pilar could seldom leave him.

As time went on, Pilar watched the money which Juan had given her gradually disappear, and at last there was no more left. But fortunately there were still souvenirs left in the chest, and these Pilar took to Juan. Four of the remaining souvenirs were old paintings.

When Juan saw them, he remarked, "These paintings are of four famous people. Let me tell you their stories."

These are the stories he told:

_Luis de Leon of Salamanca_

In the Middle Ages, when the University of Salamanca (s[)a]l'[.a]-m[)a]ng'k[.a]) was one of the finest in Europe, there lived a man named Luis de Leon. He was a friar. He was also one of Spain's great poets and a professor at the university.

One day as Fray Luis de Leon was teaching his cla.s.s, he was seized and thrown into prison. This was during the time of the inquisition, when people were arrested for their religious beliefs.

Fray Luis remained in prison for many years. When he returned to Salamanca, everybody welcomed him, and all the important townspeople came to the university to hear him make a speech.

But Fray Luis did not make a speech. He faced the schoolroom full of his pupils and others who had come to hear him, and, taking up the daily lesson, he remarked simply, "As we were saying yesterday--" just as if he had never been away!

Salamanca sits upon the banks of the River Tormes (tor'm[=a]s) across an old Roman bridge. It is a city of domes and spires, of quiet memories of art and culture.

_St. Teresa of Avila_

Once upon a time, long, long ago, there lived in the town of Avila (a'v[+e]-la) a little girl named Teresa. Often Teresa would read stories to her brother. These stories were not about fairies, kings, and queens, nor even robbers. They were about saints.

Little Teresa wished very much to become a saint and to live in heaven.

So one day she and her brother set off for the country of the Moors.

Their reason for doing this was because they thought that they might be beheaded.

But this great pleasure was to be denied them. An uncle found them on the road and brought them home. It is a blessing that he did and that young Teresa was allowed to grow up. For she became a very holy woman, who did much good in the world.

The city of Avila seems to breathe the holiness of St. Teresa. It is surrounded by a treeless desert and giant rocks. Its perfect Roman walls clasp it tightly as if to safeguard its mystery and charm.

[Ill.u.s.tration: SALAMANCA]

Do you hear the ding-donging bells of the many churches? They carry one off to dreamland. Do you hear the clink-clinking hoofs of the tiny donkeys? They carry hens and roosters to market in crates upon their backs. Avila is an old-fashioned town.

_The Cid of Valencia_

"G.o.dfather, please give me a colt. You have so many. You will never miss one."

Rodrigo de Bivar (r[+o]-dr[=e]'g[=o] de bevar') stood in the paddock beside his G.o.dfather, Don Pedro, a priest of Burgos (b[=oo]r'g[=o]s).

They were watching the horses, mares, and their colts running wild.

How free and beautiful they were, with their lovely manes flowing in the breeze!

"You may choose the best for yourself, G.o.dson," said Don Pedro.

Young Rodrigo's keen eyes followed each graceful young horse as it pa.s.sed. But he said nothing. He said nothing until an ugly, s.h.a.ggy little animal came by.

Then he cried out, "This is the one I want, G.o.dfather!"