Part 7 (2/2)
The ladies were still wondering at the chance which had led them to this spot, so cool, shady and refres.h.i.+ng after their fatigues, and so charming in its happy grouping of wild, picturesque, and romantic features on a miniature scale, when one of L'Isle's servants stepped from behind the projecting crag, and spread a cloth over a large fragment of rock, the stratified surface of its upper side making no inconvenient table. Then, bringing forward a large basket, he lost no time in setting forth the materials of a light but elegant repast. It was now evident to the ladies that their arrival at this place of refuge and delight, neighboring so closely the bare mountain-side, was not so accidental as they had imagined, and they united in thanking L'Isle for his foresight, and lauding his taste.
Smaller fragments of rock were placed as seats for the ladies, and though they had not all the conveniences of a well-ordered dining-room, they only enjoyed themselves the more for the want of them, while L'Isle busied himself in doing the hospitalities of what Lady Mabel christened ”Fairy Dell.” The inducements were strong to remain here until the heat of the day was past. Mrs. Shortridge had had her fill of heat and fatigue, in scrambling over the rugged mountain. Lady Mabel had to place her botanical treasures with their stems in the water, to revive their already withering bloom and rear their drooping heads, before she could cull from their unwieldy bulk the specimens she wished to preserve. So, after their meal, the servant was sent to order the horses up to the nearest point that admitted of riding, while the party reposed themselves in the shade and rested from their labors, luxuriously enjoying the scene, sounds, and atmosphere around them.
”How did you happen to find this lovely spot?” asked Mrs. Shortridge.
”The truth is, I yesterday morning went over the same ground we have gone over to-day, and a good deal more,” answered L'Isle. ”Following this stream upward, I came to this spot. If you would hunt out the peculiar beauties of Portugal, you must follow the course of its rivers and rivulets. True as this is of many countries, it is most true of this. You may observe, Lady Mabel, that almost all the plants you have collected, and some flowers you have not met with to-day, were contained in the collection I brought you yesterday.”
”I see that,” said Lady Mabel. ”But to-day's work is not therefore the less satisfactory. The t.i.tle botanist--and I suppose you have found out that I make some pretensions to that character--is not content with merely having flowers, leaves, and parts of plants in his _hortus siccus_, or even abortive specimens in his garden and his hot-house: he wants to see the whole plant where nature placed it, and study its character and habits there. Who is satisfied with seeing a Turk in London? To know him as he is, we look for him in Constantinople, or, better still, in some province across the Bosphorus, seated on his own carpet, in his own shop, or in his coffee-house; or, better still, in his harem, with his customers, or neighbors, or his family of wives around him. How much does the Esquimaux in London resemble the Esquimaux seated on his sledge, shouting at his team of dogs, and posting over his frozen and trackless route, with a horizon of ice around him? That is traveling, and this is botany; and of all sciences botany best suits the traveler. Every variation of lat.i.tude, climate, or season, even the smallest changes of soil, elevation, or exposure, brings him to a new region, where he may make new acquaintances, or meet old friends. Through a love for botany the wilderness blooms to us like a garden, and the solitary places are made populous and glad.”
”Such an enthusiastic botanist must become an adept,” said L'Isle. ”I suppose you see in Portugal nothing but a land of rare and varied vegetation?”
”By no means. I am not wedded to one pursuit; or gifted with but one taste. I have eyes for other things beside flowers, and shall seize every opportunity of seeing and knowing something of the people of the country.”
”The people, the real people,” said L'Isle, ”both of this country and of Spain, are the peasantry. They are chiefly agricultural countries, and the rural, or rather village population forms the bulk of both nations, and the best part of them.”
”It is the peasantry, the dear, natural, picturesque peasantry that I most want to know.”
”I am astonished to hear you say so, Lady Mabel. The ignorant, filthy, superst.i.tious creatures!” exclaimed Mrs. Shortridge, with an air of infinite disgust. ”Their _fidalgos_, as they call their gentry, are bad enough; but as for the common people, any familiarity with them, sufficient to enable you to know them, would be too disgusting. They may be picturesque; so let us confine them to their place in the picture. There alone it is that they do not bring their savor of garlic with them,” and she here buried her pretty little turned-up nose in a bunch of Lady Mabel's most fragrant flowers.
”Give me those flowers, Mrs. Shortridge; you handle them so rudely, any one might see that you are no botanist. I had just laid them aside to be pressed. And as for the poor Portuguese, I mean to know them as well and despise them as little as I can, and even hope to learn something through them, if not from them. Colonel L'Isle, I have mastered already all the ordinary phrases of Portuguese salutation and compliment, which you know are much more various and c.u.mbrous than in our direct, blunt English. I can already be as polite as the most courteous native, and that is, at least, the beginning of conversation. I can ask, too, for the necessaries of life, and inquire my road, should I chance to lose it. Let a woman alone for getting the tongues. I hold frequent conferences with Antonio Lobo, the peasant who keeps our orchard at head-quarters, and have daily talks with our Portuguese chamber-maid, and can find fault with her, not to say scold, in good set terms. The awkward creature gives me abundant provocation for scolding, and for not forgetting your advice about vociferation and gesticulation.”
”You do well to remember it,” said L'Isle; ”it will help you on famously.”
”I had some thoughts,” she continued, ”in order to lose no opportunity of familiarizing myself with these tongues, of saying my prayers in Spanish of a morning, and Portuguese at night. But a scruple of conscience deterred me from attempting, in prayer, to kill two birds with one stone.”
”I think,” said L'Isle, laughing, ”that your scruple was not out of place.”
”Yet you know that Charles V. held that G.o.d should never be addressed but in Spanish.”
”A strange doctrine for a Papist, who was always praying to him in bad Latin,” said L'Isle. ”That opinion savors of heresy, and deserved the notice of the Inquisition.”
”At all events,” said Lady Mabel, ”it is best not to pray to him in bad Spanish. But had I an opportunity of traveling through Spain and Portugal, and mixing freely with the people, I would show you how quickly both tongues could be mastered.”
”I see little chance of your having that opportunity soon,” said Mrs. Shortridge.
”I am afraid I must give up all hope of it. The _Santa Hermandad_ no longer keep the roads safe; and all the knights of Alcantara and Calatrava to boot, of these degenerate days, would afford but little protection to a _demoiselle errante_.”
”I will offer you a more trusty escort than that of those false knights,” said L'Isle. ”I will place myself and regiment at your command.”
”That is truly kind. I accept the offer; and when I set out on my travels, will send you on with it a march or two ahead, to clear the way, and make all safe for us, while Mrs. Shortridge and myself will follow at ease with our civic retinue, confident that you will have removed every danger from the path!”
”That arrangement would make the journey less pleasant to me than I hoped to find it.”
”I thought your object was our safety, not your pleasure,” said Lady Mabel.
”And for my part,” said Mrs. Shortridge, ”I do not care to travel any road which requires a regiment to make it safe. I am inquisitive enough, but my fears would be stronger than my curiosity.”
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