The Little Spanish Dancer Part 8

At the fiesta, music and song filled the air. Lanterns were strung from poles. Booths lined the square. Nuts and fruits and cakes were sold.

There were small wagons where men fried long, golden cakes like the doughnut.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A FIELD NEAR CORDOBA]

Shawls, laces, paintings, toys, and fans for sale. Merry-go-rounds, sideshows, dancing, and more dancing. Pilar and her friends whirled about, kicking their legs, pointing their toes, rolling their eyes, and rippling their castanets.

At last, tired, but filled with rhythm and harmony, the group started for home.

After Pilar had left the fiesta, however, somebody asked about her. That somebody was a great dancing master.

He asked, "Who was that little beauty in the white costume trimmed with green? She played a pair of golden-voiced castanets. Where does she live? I should like to have her as my pupil."

[Ill.u.s.tration: A DOUGHNUT STAND]

But n.o.body in Triana knew where Pilar lived, and, of course, her name is a common one in Spain.

On the way home, Pilar's spirits began to fall. She began to think of having to part with her precious castanets. How she wished that there might be some other way of--!

Suddenly she remembered Tony--Tony, the boy who had played bullfight with Juan years ago. It was weeks now since Juan had sent the old red cape to America and had written to Tony.

Juan had said that Tony was rich and generous and that he would help Pilar and her grandfather because he would remember Pilar's mother. But Pilar had begun to wonder whether Tony really would.

When she reached home, all the excitement of the fiesta had worn away.

She was very unhappy. Tomorrow she must give up the castanets. Juan had said that he could sell them to a dancing master, who paid handsomely for antiques.

Pilar started to undress. She unpinned the brooch that fastened her costume at the throat. And all at once, her face lit up with a wonderful new idea.

She would take this brooch to Juan tomorrow. It was her own, part of her dancing costume. But she would far rather part with it than with her mother's castanets.

The brooch was a small painting called a miniature. It was the likeness of young Prince Alfonso, the brother of Queen Isabella of Spain.

Pilar hurried off to bed. And while she sleeps, let us listen to the "Mystery of the Young Prince."

CHAPTER IX

THE MYSTERY OF THE YOUNG PRINCE

Alfonso was only a boy. But some day he would be king, for he was next in line to his brother, King Henry. After him came his sister, Isabella, a beautiful little girl, earnest and thoughtful.

Alfonso felt himself to be Isabella's knight and protector. He had learned to ride and to use his sword like a true Spanish cavalier.

One day at twilight Isabella sat at the window, embroidering a Moorish design upon a bit of gold cloth. Alfonso, his studies over for the day, was reading to her.

Better than anything else, the Prince loved to read--which may have been the reason for what happened later--at least, for what is supposed to have happened. For n.o.body rightly knows the truth of the bitter story.

As the two children sat together, enjoying the happiest moment of their day, one of the King's spies secretly watched and listened.

He heard the Princess Isabella say, "Enough of that for now, Alfonso.

Come. Read my favorite book."

Alfonso put down the book which he had been reading, and the spy noted well its t.i.tle, "The Odyssey ([)o]d'[)i]-s[)i])." He also had noted something else. Always before the Prince turned a page, he first moistened his finger with his tongue.

Squinting his eyes, the spy smiled wickedly to himself and stole away.

Several nights later, this same spy crept into the Prince's chamber and, feeling cautiously about, he at last found what he sought. It was a book, "The Odyssey."

Working with agile fingers, he opened the book, and upon each page he smeared a deadly poison. Then he returned the book to its place and left the room as quietly as he had entered.

Now trouble and discontent filled the country. Some of the people were not pleased with King Henry, and they wanted to place young Alfonso upon the throne.

The Prince and his sister began to live through turbulent times, and their peaceful hours together were over. Alfonso was thrown into prison, then suddenly freed again, to become an important figure in the kingdom.

He was told that soon he would be crowned king, for the rebels were going to overthrow his brother Henry. Whispered plans, secret schemes stirred in the air like poisonous insects. And the poisoned book lay where the spy had left it. The Prince found little time for reading.

[Ill.u.s.tration: AVILA]

But today he had managed to meet his sister, and the two were very happy to be together again for an hour of quiet reading.

Alfonso picked up the book, "The Odyssey," but Isabella said, "No, not that one, Alfonso. Today let us hear this most interesting novel. It tells why the wind blows, why we smell and taste and hear, all in the form of a story."

She smiled and handed him the other book. Good-naturedly Alfonso put down "The Odyssey." Had he but known it, he put from him death!

Soon afterwards, the prince was again torn from his sister, this time to live through one of the most dramatic events in his stormy young life.

One day a splendid procession made its way into the town of Avila. Among the cavaliers rode Prince Alfonso. His horse richly decked, he sat stiffly upon the saddle, clothed in armor. His boyish face was grave and stern.

As he pa.s.sed, the people cried out, "Long live King Alfonso!"

A throne had been erected out upon the plains. On this throne sat what appeared to be a king. He held a scepter, and the crown upon his head gleamed brightly in the sun.

But as the cavalcade drew closer, it was seen that the figure had fallen over on its side like a sawdust doll. And indeed, that is just what it was--a scarecrow, made to represent King Henry.

The Prince and his followers stood upon the platform. A colorful crowd had gathered about them--monks in brown, monks in white and black, lords in bright-hued mantles, Moors with turbans on their heads, peasants, beggars, young and old.

Bugles rang out, and drums rolled. The little Prince stood, proudly royal, in his armor. His blond hair showed under the visor which had been pushed back from his head.

Then the Archbishop s.n.a.t.c.hed the crown from the head of the scarecrow king and roared, "Thus lose the royal dignity which you have guarded ill."

And one of the cavaliers roughly kicked the figure off its throne. There were cries and shouts and some gasps of horror. Alfonso was seated upon the throne and crowned King of Avila.

Petty wars, robberies, and murders followed. Part of the country was in favor of King Henry, while the rebels supported Alfonso. A terrible battle took place in Toledo. Houses were burned and people ma.s.sacred.

A few days later, Alfonso arrived in the town.

Those who had burned and ma.s.sacred bowed down to the young king, saying, "We will fight for your cause if you will approve this ma.s.sacre."