SIXTY YEARS OF THE LIFE

JEREMY LEVIS.

BOOK FIFTH.

CHAPTER I.

Fair Cadiz, rising o.er the dark blue sea.

Chilie Harold.

'al movimiento que hizieron de poneree en pie, la hei

raosa moca aleb la cabeca, y apartandose los cabellos de delante de los ojos con • ntrainbaa manos, miro los que el ruydo bazian ; y apenas los buvo visto, quango se levanto en pie, y sin aguardar a calcarse, ni i recoger los cabellos, * *

1»1so ponerae en hnydra, llena de turbacion y sobresallo:

Dan Qnimte

Kind Reader:—When I formed the design of portioning these my memoirs into Books, it was not with the view of affording thee certain half-way accommodations, where thou mightest stop thy jaded steed (meaning my. self), and, wh ile thou tookest some refreshment for thine own tired lungs, suffer him, poor beast, to blow a little: for, though I am an aged animal, yet have I not acquired, with my lank belly and projecting haunches, that modicum of carthorse humility which would induce me to prick mine ears with satisfaction, could I be made sensi

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ble that, on reaching the end of thy journey, them wouldest attribute the safety of thine own neck and that of thy Rozinante, merely to the aforesaid stopping-places;

but (to cast the nature of a horse and- resume mine

own—which, by the inestimable privilege of humanity, more resembleth that of an ass,)—I have arranged it thus to indicate a greater lapse of time, or a greater separa. tion of scene, than intervenes between the incidents depicted in one Chapter and those which form the subject of another.

Behold me now in Cadiz The generous seaman to

whom I owed my life was not contented with merely discharging his duty, but—a true Spaniard—, once interested in my welfare, strained every nerve till he had rowed my bark into a snug haven ;—recommending me, on his own, sole responsibility, to the merchants in whose employment he sailed—and that, without knowing any more of my character than he could gather from my appearance, my conversation, and such portions of my history as I chose to communicate! Men of prudence—that is to say, men of cold heart and much knowledge of the world, will sneer at this kindness as a rank specimen of folly; but, when I forget it,—may I cease to remember all that makes me man! and lose the sense of all that renders life precious—the foolish romance that bids me shut my ears against the loud warnings of Experience, when she tries to drown the ever gentle whispers of my heart!

I gave the honest captain no cause to repent of his folly; for, notwithstandmg the temptations which that city of tho senses held out to me (not unsuccessfully,) on every side, I performed my duties so much to the satisfaction of my employers, that, before the expiration ot eight months, I found myself elevated almost to the footing of a partner in one of the most opulent houses of Cadiz. Of course, under these circumstances, a temper like mine could not remain long t>Vereast. Indeed, in a very few weeks, even the light vapours that occasionally dimmed the clear ether—the traces and memorials of my late misfortunes—floated off; and I became once more the gay, and, above all, the'happy Jeremy,— for, though I still danced in the train of Pleasure (and

who does not in Cadiz ?), I danced no longer blindfold.

But while I laughed beneath the sunny heaven that hung over my spirits, a storm was brewing. I heard not its distant rumbling; but the cloud, though slow, was sure in its advances, and was gathering, black with desolation, to pour its fury over my devoted head, scattering in ruin the ripened harvest of my happiness, and almost blasting the very roots as they lay bare in every fibre to its violence. Early one Sunday morning, I joined a party of acquaintances to pass the day at El Puerto (the opposite town of Port St. Mary). In the afternoon, when the rest were preparing to take a turn in the alameda,* I left them to stroll .about the country. Delighted to find myself amid the beauty and freshness of a rich vegetation, instead of treading the barren sands of Cadiz, I extended my walk several miles',—the landscape growing more varied at almost every step, and with increased charms that made me forget the distance I should have to return. • In this way I was induced to enter a romantic little avenue, which crept along the base of a gentle eminence, tempting the traveller by the coolness of its shade, and the perfume of the wild flowers, which, defended from the hot sun, grew there in unrestrained, as unregarded luxuriance. The trees that rose on either side, chiefly of chestnut and elm, passed their leafy branches above, forming a roof of living lattice-work, through which the eye caught here and there a glimpse of the deep blue heaven, as it seemed to one looking upward, without pausing in his walk, to be rushing over him with great rapidity; while flowering, aromatic shrubs filled up the intervals between their trunks, delighting both sigW and smell, and announcing by the closeness with which they grew, as if crowded for room; and the variety of their species, the land where (as it often has been remarked) the hand of God appears to have done every thing, that of man nothing. Sometimes these plants stretched completely across the path, as if to bar my passage, so that I was obliged to stop and put them aside before I could proceed; and then, the rustling they made against my dress, or when they recoiled as I released them, would startle from their haunts the little gray lizards, which would dart by me, seemingly bewildered with terrour, so seldom had they been disturbed by the footstep of man.*

After walking about a hundred yards, I found the avenue to terminate in a fork, of which the right branch led directly into the open country (-for I could plainly perceive both vineyards and olive plantations, at a Very trifling distance-), while the other appeared to be scarcely more than a cleft in the hill along whose base I have said the little shaded alley wandered. Curious to see whither this latter path would lead, I entered it without hesitation. It was so narrow, that, standing with my back to one side, I could easily touch the other with my arm flexed, and was, moreover, thickly overgrown with weeds, and wild flowers and vines, entwined together, and of extraordinary size.

I had scarcely taken a dozen steps, which cost me near as many minutes, amid their intricacy, when I was arrested by the sound of a female voice singing a Spanish air. All good music has something of melancholy in its strains; but this was peculiarly sad; and,the tones of the voice were so exquisitely touching that every nerve in fay body

tingled with delight. Astonished, not at the sounds themselves, but at hearing them in so wild a spot, I moved cautiously forward.—Suddenly my further progress appeared to be obstructed by a large rock which stood directly across the passage in which 1 was treading. On approaching the barrier, however, I discovered, to the left, a little opening between its smooth barren surface and the richly verdant hill, so narrow that a common-' sized man might just enter it sideways. A tall slender weed, growing from the foot of the hill, projected across the opening, the top of its green stalk rising to a level with my hat. I looked between its leaves, and saw a sight that held me to the spot, fixed almost like the solid stone beside me, with wonder and admiration.

The narrow cleft, at whose mouth I was standing, instead of winding through the hill or terminating abruptly, was nothing more than a doorway to a kind of amphitheatre, whose longest diameter (—taking as such a line drawn by my eye from the spot where I stood to the wall opposite—) might measure ten or twelve feet. Three fourths of the arena were surrounded by a rough, irregular wall of rocks, whose perpendicular masses rose to about the height of twelve feet, covered by dwarf trees, and by wild vines and creeping plants, which hung down the side, seeking some hold whereto they might attach themselves, while, wherever the interstices of the rocks presented an outlet, however small, little delicate shrubs projected their green heads (so rich is this neglected soil!), as if proud to contrast their laughing beauty with the stern bleakness of the wall within whose compass they had found a scanty footing. Opposite, though not in a direct line, to the cleft I occupied, was another, something similar in width, but lessening gradually in depth, as it rose by a gentle ascent towards the sumout of the hill. It served as channel to a narrow rivulet, which, arising from some unseen spring, poured down the slope with great rapidity, forming little waterfalls over