Benedict. - Ow yaw, but the schatz is buried; it is not above
ground; there is no money above ground in Galicia. I must dig it
up; and when I have dug it up I will purchase a coach with six
mules, and ride out of Galicia to Lucerne; and if the Herr pleases
to go with me, he shall be welcome to go with me and the schatz.
Myself. - I am afraid that you have come on a desperate errand.
What do you propose to do? Have you any money?
Benedict. - Not a cuart; but I do not care now I have arrived at
Saint James. The schatz is nigh; and I have, moreover, seen you,
which is a good sign; it tells me that the schatz is still here. I
shall go to the best posada in the place, and live like a duke till
I have an opportunity of digging up the schatz, when I will pay all
scores.
"Do nothing of the kind," I replied; "find out some place in which
to sleep, and endeavour to seek some employment. In the mean time,
here is a trifle with which to support yourself; but as for the
treasure which you have come to seek, I believe it only exists in
your own imagination." I gave him a dollar and departed.
I have never enjoyed more charming walks than in the neighbourhood
of Saint James. In these I was almost invariably accompanied by my
friend the good old bookseller. The streams are numerous, and
along their wooded banks we were in the habit of straying and
enjoying the delicious summer evenings of this part of Spain.
Religion generally formed the topic of our conversation, but we not
unfrequently talked of the foreign lands which I had visited, and
at other times of matters which related particularly to my
companion. "We booksellers of Spain," said he, "are all liberals;
we are no friends to the monkish system. How indeed should we be
friends to it? It fosters darkness, whilst we live by
disseminating light. We love our profession, and have all more or
less suffered for it; many of us, in the times of terror, were
hanged for selling an innocent translation from the French or
English. Shortly after the Constitution was put down by Angouleme
and the French bayonets, I was obliged to flee from Saint James and
take refuge in the wildest part of Galicia, near Corcuvion. Had I
not possessed good friends, I should not have been alive now; as it
was, it cost me a considerable sum of money to arrange matters.
Whilst I was away, my shop was in charge of the ecclesiastical
officers. They frequently told my wife that I ought to be burnt
for the books which I had sold. Thanks be to God, those times are
past, and I hope they will never return."
Once, as we were walking through the streets of Saint James, he
stopped before a church and looked at it attentively.
