The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1898-12-24
A Spanish Legend.

| &c Don Juan Manuel. In the street bu
a moments walk from the Piazza Mayor
| stands one OF the oldest houses built b,
| the Spanish dons.
1t is Of stone. three stories high, orna.
! nented with balconies along the two up
per stories, and with the close set stone
p.nnacles on the roof that signify the
abode OF Spanish nobility. AT right an.
giles with the rows of pinnacles and point.
ing menacingly toward the street is q
| battery of sham cannon carved CUT oi
stone that in reality are great drain pipes
! They project into the air so far that tnay
empty the tropical rains beyond the limits
| OF the sidewalks into the cobole-paved
street. These are for utility, of course
but they chance to be the most decora-
| tive feature of this quaint facade.
| Inside this noble structure, the arches
| of the patio. now. alas. divided by dis
| nguring walls, span sixty feet OF stone
paced floor and spring thirty fet upward
into the great quadranguiar space. Mas
sive stone stairways. with a broad and
shallow step, slope gently upward to the
| magnificent living apartments of Don
| Juan Manuel. Gayly-painted carpets may
still be seen on the deep-set rise OF
every step, and tracings linger on the
edges of the depressions worn by the
| countless footballs of Don Juan Manuel,
his noble visitors. his vast retinue of SER
wants and his descendants.
Once on the upper landings OF the stair
way. which was evidently devised as a
means to an end, not as a feature OF
architectural development one looks back
on a region of stony gloom which now. as
it has always been, is used for servants
quarters and store-rooms. Even on the
upper floor the windows are iron barred.
but they are numerous and large, and the
apartments are spacious and well proper
toned. The drawing-room, forty feet
square, is reached through an antesata
that is a study in itself, for on its high
walls is spread in black and white the
story OF Paul and Virginia
Rugged rocks and tossing seas. sylvan
and outrageous woods depict the scenes
of this lovers tragedy, while the hero
and heroine wander arm in arm, often
pausing for fond embrace, through de-
vious paths to their sad doom.
In the midst of this splendor and the
rich furnishings brought over seas in
Spanish gaIleons, lived the priceless orna-
ment of the house of Don Juan Manuel
his young and beautiful wife. Each day
he said to himself: "She is more beautiful
more charming, more true, and 1 am
unspeakahly blessed in her love" But
one day the thought came to him that he
was growing old. For a long time the
devotion of his lovely wife had deceived
him into the belief that years did not
matter. But at last he was forced to
realize that the care of his great estates
needed younger head. He would send to
Spain for his nephew and thus give him.
self more time for domestic felicity. Hap
by thought The nephew came, met his
youthful and beautiful aunt. devoted him
self to collecting his uncles tithes. and
stayed.
If the world lacks a proverb. .Ir as one
applicable to the blindness of the old and
doting husband and the adroitness of his
young and beautiful wife. But in time
even Don Juan Manuel became suspicious
and from suspicion to jealousy the step
is but a short one. Spending his evenings
by the side Of his wife, Don Juan Manuel
suddenly began to absent himself night
after night AT first the young wife Won
dered and was alarmed at she knew not
what, but soon she begged her husband
to remain with her, because it was re-
ported that very night murder was COM
united in the Gale de Don Juan Manuel.
Every night the Waterman would see
Tail A6 NLdpPtd 4Il tic lOil5 Didths
Spanish cloak, pacing back and forth the
limit of the short street Whose this black
figure was. no Waterman could tell--or
would. When 1t appeared the street be-
came suddenly deserted, and slowly and
solemnly the tall man, with bent head,
marched up and down to the lonesome
echo of his tread. Sometimes for hours
no other form was visible throughout the
length of the Gale. but younger and keen
er eyes might have seen. stealing out on
the upper balcony of the house of Don
Juan Manuel, the young wife whom he
had locked in her chamber. Beneath the
shadow Of the great stone water pipes
she would crouch and wait and wait
Al last, a stranger or an OVERLOAD citizen
of the street, not believing the stories Of
nightly murder, would turn his steps into
that lone place. Directly he would he
met or overtaken by the slow pacing
figure in the long, black cloak. 'Strang-
err it would say, "canst thou tell me
the hour of the night?"
The stranger, unsuspecting danger or
timid in the commanding presence. would
open his cloak and take out his repeater.
when-death! Straight to his heart 7ier ed
the double-edged dagger carried BY the
tall, black figure thar paced the Gale dc
Don Juan Manuel. Fortunate is the man
who knows the hour of his death" the
figure said. and as quickly as It had gone
home TO the life fount as quickly was
the dagger withdrawn wiped upon the
cloak of the fallen man. sheathed in its
morocco case and replaced IN the folds
Of its owners cloak. Suddenly the pacing
figure would disappear, mutsering to him
self: He is not the man. or Another
time"