“Spirit of the mighty wind That across the desert howls, Help us here to unbind All the spells of dreaded ghouls; Through the path of smoke and fire Rising to the wizards’ mound, Bid the cursèd mark retire From this creature on the ground; Bid him take his shape again, Free him from the Crescent’s power, May the holy Cross remain On his temple from this hour.”
She now made the sign of the Cross over the head of the wolf, and continued:—
“River, winding to the west, Stay thy rippling current, stay, Jordan’s stream thy tide has blest, Help us wash this stain away; Bear it to the ocean wide, Back to Saracenic shore. Those who washed in thee have died But to live for evermore.”
Then she sprinkled a few drops over the fire, which caused a larger amount of smoke, and exclaimed—
“Hie thee, spirit, up through smoke, Quenched by water and by fire; Hie thee far from Christian folk, To the wizard’s home retire. Open wide your eyelids now, All the smoke has curled away; ’Neath the peaceful olive bough Let us go, and let us pray.”
Then they all rose, and the wolf was no longer there. The fire had burned itself out, and the stream was again running. In slow procession they went to the olive grotto, headed by the wise woman; and, after praying, they returned to the house, where they found, to their delight, John fast asleep in his bed; but his arms showed signs of bruises which had been caused by the cudgelling he had received when he was caught in the trap.
There were great rejoicings that day in the village of Darque; and no one was better pleased than John at having regained his proper shape.
He was never known to join in the inhuman sport of hunting wolves for pleasure, because, as he said, although they may not be wolf-children, they do but obey an instinct which was given them; and to be kind-hearted is to obey a precept which was given us. And, owing to the introduction into Portugal of the Book in which this commandment is to be found, wolf-children have become scarcer, and the people wiser.
THE MAGIC MIRROR.
It was proclaimed throughout the kingdom of Granada that the king had decided on marrying. The news was first told to the court barber, then to the night watchmen, and, in the third place, to the oldest woman in the city of Granada.
The barber told all his customers, who again told all their friends. The night watchmen in crying the hour proclaimed the news in a loud voice, so that all the maidens were kept awake by thinking of the news, and by day they were being constantly reminded by all the old dueñas that the king had resolved to marry.
After the news had become somewhat stale, the question was asked, “Who is the king going to marry?” To which the barber made reply, that probably “he would marry a woman.”
“A woman!” exclaimed his hearers. “Why, what else could he marry?”
“Not all women are worthy the name,” answered the barber. “Some more resemble the unbaptized, of whom I say, abernuncio.”
“But what mean you, good friend?” demanded his customers. “Is not the king to find a woman for wife in our land of Spain?”
“He would,” replied the barber, “with greater ease find the reverse; but to find a woman worthy to be his wife I shall have great trouble.”
“What, you?” exclaimed all of them. “What have you got to do with providing the king with a wife?”
“I am under royal licence, remember,” said he of the razor; “for I am the only man in the kingdom permitted to rub the royal features. I am the possessor of the magic mirror also, into which if any woman not being thoroughly good shall look, the blemishes on her character will appear as so many spots on its surface.”
“Is this one of the conditions?” asked all.
“This is the sole condition,” replied the barber, placing his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat and looking very wise.
“But is there no limit as to age?” they again inquired.
“Any woman from eighteen years upwards is eligible,” said the possessor of the mirror.
“Then you will have every woman in Granada claiming the right to be queen!” all exclaimed.
“But, first of all, they will have to justify their claim, for I will not take any woman at her word. No; she will have to gaze into the mirror with me by her side,” continued the barber.
The sole condition imposed on those who desired to become Queen of Granada was made known, and was much ridiculed, as may naturally be supposed; but, strange to say, no woman applied to the barber to have a look into the mirror.
Days and weeks went by, but the king was no nearer getting a wife. Some generous ladies would try and prevail on their lady friends to make the trial, but none seemed ambitious of the honour.
The king, be it known, was a very handsome man, and was beloved by all his subjects for his many virtues; therefore it was surprising that none of the lovely ladies who attended court should try to become his wife.
Many excuses and explanations were given. Some were already engaged to be married, others professed themselves too proud to enter the barber’s shop, while others assured their friends that they had resolved on remaining single.
The latter seem to have been cleverer in their excuses, for it was soon observable that no man in Granada would marry, assigning as a reason for this that until the king was suited they would not think of marrying; though the real cause may have been due to the objection of the ladies to look into the mirror.
The fathers of families were much annoyed at the apparent want of female ambition in their daughters, while the mothers were strangely silent on the matter.
Every morning the king would ask the barber if any young lady had ventured on looking into the mirror; but the answer was always the same—that many watched his shop to see if others went there, but none had ventured in.
“Ah, Granada, Granada!” exclaimed the king; “hast thou no daughter to offer thy king? In this Alhambra did my predecessors enjoy the company of their wives; and am I to be denied this natural comfort?”
“Royal master,” said the barber, “in those days the magic mirror was unknown and not so much required. Men then only studied the arts, but now is science added to their studies.”
“You mean, then,” asked the king, “that an increase in knowledge has done no good?”
“I mean more than that,” continued the barber; “I mean that people are worse than they used to be.”
“‘God is great!’ is what these walls proclaim; to know is to be wise,” urged the king.
“Not always, sir,” said the barber; “for the majority of men and women in the present know too much and are not too wise, although some deem them wise for being cunning. There is as great a distance between wisdom and cunning as there is between the heavens and the earth.”
“Barber,”