e of coolness and
seclusion. Whilst in the court of the convent, and in the hollow square
in the interior of the building, where the nuns cultivated a few
flowers, and which was sprinkled by the waters of a fountain, the heat
was so great as to drive the sisters to their cells and shady cloisters,
in the forest a delicious freshness prevailed. A light air played
between the moss-clad tree-trunks, and the soft turf, protected by the
foliage from the scorching rays of the sun, felt cool to the foot that
pressed it. Nay, in some places, where the shade was thickest, and where
a current of air flowed up through the long vistas of trees, might still
be seen, although the sun was in the zenith, tiny drops of the morning
dew, spangling the grass-blades. Into those innermost recesses of the
greenwood, however, the esquilador had not thought it necessary to
penetrate: habituated to the African temperature of Southern Spain, he
was satisfied with the moderate degree of shelter obtained in the little
glade he occupied; into which, although the sunbeams did not enter, a
certain degree of heat was reflected from the convent walls, of whose
grey surface he obtained a glimpse through the branches. The sheep-skin
jacket which was his constant wear--its looseness rendering it a more
endurable summer garment than might have been inferred from its warm
material--lay upon the grass beside him, exposing to view a woollen
shirt, composed of broad alternate stripes of red and white; the latter
colour having assumed, from length of wear and lack of washing, a tint
bordering upon the orange. He had untwisted the long red sash which he
wore coiled round his waist, and withdrawn from its folds, at one of its
extremities, forming a sort of purse, a goodly handful of gold coin, the
result of the more or less honest enterprises in which he had recently
been engaged. This he was counting out, and arranging according to its
kind, in glittering piles of four, eight, and sixteen-dollar pieces. A
grim contortion of feature, his nearest approach to a smile, testified
the pleasure he experienced in thus handling and reckoning his treasure;
and, in unusual contradiction to his taciturn habits, he indulged, as he
gloated over his gold, in a muttered and disjointed soliloquy.

"Hurra for the war!" so ran his monologue; "may it last till Jaime bids
it cease. 'Tis meat and drink to him--ay, and better still." Here he
glanced complacently at his wealth. "Surely '