DON QUIXOTE – THE CAPTIVE’S TALE – PART 4

(This post is a continuation of Don Quixote – The Captive’s Tale – Parts 1, 2, & 3. If you haven’t done so already, it’s probably best to read those posts before continuing on here.)

Last week, the captive related the story of how he came to Algiers, ended up languishing in a baños (a place where captives/slaves were housed), and received a mysterious gift from an even more mysterious source—a pale hand that reached out from a window high above on a building that overlooked the baño. This week, the mystery is solved.

Shortly afterwards, at the same window from which the reed with the package of money in it had been dropped a at my feet, a small cross made of reeds was put out and immediately withdrawn. This sign led us to believe that some Christian woman was a captive in the house, and that it was she who had been so good to us. But the whiteness of the hand and the bracelets we had perceived made us dismiss that idea, though we thought it might be one of the Christian renegades whom their masters very often take as lawful wives—and gladly, for they prefer them to the women of their own nation.

In all our conjectures, however, we were wide of the truth.

From that time forward, our sole occupation was watching and gazing at the window where the cross had appeared to us, as if it were our polestar.

At least fifteen days passed without our seeing either it or the hand, or any other sign, and though meanwhile we endeavored with the utmost pains to ascertain who it was that lived in the house, and whether there were any Christian renegades in it, nobody could ever tell us anything more than that he who lived there was a rich Moor of high position, Hadji Morato by name, formerly alcaide of La Pata, an office of high dignity among them.

When we least thought it was going to rain any more cianis from that quarter, we saw the reed suddenly appear with another cloth tied in a larger knot attached to it, and this at a time when, as on the former occasion, the baño was deserted and unoccupied.

We made trial as before, each of the same three going forward before I did, but the reed was delivered to none but me, and on my approach it was let drop. I untied the knot and I found forty Spanish gold crowns with a paper written in Arabic. At the end of the writing there was a large cross drawn. I kissed the cross, took the crowns, and returned to the terrace. We all made our salaams. Again the hand appeared. I made signs that I would read the paper, and then the window was closed.

We were all puzzled, though filled with joy at what had taken place. None of us understood Arabic, but great was our curiosity to know what the paper contained. Greater still, though, was the difficulty of finding someone to read it. At last I resolved to confide in a renegade, a native of Murcia, who professed a very great friendship for me, and who had given pledges that bound him to keep any secret I might entrust to him—for this is the custom with some renegades.

When they intend to return to Christian territory, they wish to carry with them certificates from captives of mark testifying, in whatever form they can, that such and such a renegade is a worthy man who has always shown kindness to Christians and is anxious to escape on the first opportunity that may present itself. Some obtain these testimonials with good intentions, others put them to a cunning use, for when they go to pillage on Christian territory, if they chance to be cast away, or taken prisoners, they produce their certificates and say that from these papers may be seen the object they came for, which was to remain on Christian ground, and that it was to this end they joined the Turks in their foray. In this way they escape the consequences of their acts and make peace with the Church before it does them any harm. Then, when they have the chance, they return to Barbary to become what they were before.

Others, however, there are who procure these papers and make use of them honestly, and who intend to remain on Christian soil. This friend of mine was one of this latter sort of renegade. He had certificates from all our comrades, in which we testified in his favor as strongly as we could. If the Moors had found the papers, they would have burned him alive.

I knew that he understood Arabic very well and could not only speak it but also write it. But before I disclosed the whole matter to him, I asked him to read for me what I described as a paper which I had found by accident in a hole in my cell. He opened it and remained some time examining it and muttering to himself as he translated it. I asked him if he understood it, and he told me he did perfectly well, and that if I wished him to tell me its meaning word for word, I must give him pen and ink that he might do it more satisfactorily.

We at once gave him what he required, and he set about translating it bit by bit. When he had done, he said, “All that is here in Spanish is what the Moorish paper contains. You must bear in mind that when it says ‘Lela Marien’ it means ‘Our Lady the Virgin Mary.’”

We read the paper, which ran thus:

“When I was a child my father had a slave who taught me to pray the Christian prayer in my own language, and told me many things about Lela Marien. The Christian died, and I know that she did not go to the fire, but to Allah, because since then I have seen her twice, and she told me to go to the land of the Christians to see Lela Marien, who has great love for me.

I know not how to go. I have seen many Christians, but except for thyself, none has seemed to me to be a gentleman. I am young and beautiful and have plenty of money to take with me. See if thou canst contrive how we may go, and if thou wilt, thou shalt be my husband there, and if thou wilt not, it will not distress me, for Lela Marien will find me someone to marry me.

I myself have written this. Have a care to whom thou givest it to read. Trust no Moor, for they are all perfidious. I am greatly troubled on this account, for I would not have thee confide in anyone, because if my father knew it he would at once fling me down a well and cover me with stones.

I will put a thread to the reed. Tie the answer to it, and if thou hast no one to write for thee in Arabic, tell it to me by signs, for Lela Marien will make me understand thee.

May she and Allah and this cross, which I often kiss, protect thee…”