The Virginia enterprise. [volume] (Virginia, St. Louis County, Minn.) 1893-19??, 1899-06-09
The MILLER Of BOLARQ||E,

lM MILK Uf bOLHkQUt.
eyes, sir" the miller was saying, "'tis
a 6ne place the convent OF Bolarquc
Few strangers come to see it; but the
rare ones who do have told ME that of
all the inconsistencies in Spain 1t is the
best preserved. You saw the chapter
house this morning and the friars' cells
and the church. Not stick has been
moved, not stone pulled away. not even
nail from the doors, since the friars
went. Its long story, sir; but my
father aud my grandfather before me
were born and bred in this old mill, as
| was. too. The mill belonged to the
convent, and my grandfather was the con-
vent muller. When the friars left. my
grandfather Sworc that he would guard
| It for them, and on his deathbed my
! father swore the same, and l was not
going to disgrace my blood by doing any
thing different. Yes. | have been often
sore put to it-nany Il time on the cold
| December nights l have thought of the
| old rafters rotting and moldering there.
| when it would have only taken few
| strokes with an axe to get enough wood
to keep an honest man warm for the
| whole winter: But no: l said to Maria
chats my wifr) | would rather chop off
my right hand than chop that wood! Be
sure 1t would bring us harm! Many 4
time have l wanted il few nails or iron
to repair the mill; and it's many weary
league to the town. as you know. sir. and
it seemed a sin to have all that iron rust
ing and useless up there; but l would
have let the mill rot into the Tagus before
l would have taken it! That is why, sir.
the convent is still Il convent as you see
today. and not a ruin. And my son. the
lad you saw just now-ycs: line hand-
some boy enough-when he takes the mill
in his turn. will do the same. The con-
vent of Bolarque was entrusted to my
grandfather. The last words the prior
said to him were t" preserve it and keep
it for the friars coming, and so we have
done, and SO we shall do, as long as one
| of our name is left
The miller was silent, thinking, per-
| hal'S, Of old forgotten thingS-to the lap
| ping of the water beneath. for the kitch-
en- was built on piles. and juttcd out far
into the river-to the tapping of the wa
ter which, like human beings, is ever
| flowing to oblivion.
!. too, held my peace. | saw the con-
! vent again as l had seen it in the morn
| ing, as l still see it if l shut my eyes.
| whitening in the sun amidst tho almond
to the sky above in Il tangled under
| growth of corkwood, died into the shore
OF the broad and boiling Tagus at the
bottom.
"What strange things it would tell us
| IT stones could speak, l said. without
! intention. in that strange listlessness of
| mood which makes man say anything
| to break silence.
Yes, sir"' said the miller, strange
things. Even the old mill. too, if it could
speak. would tell some secrets. But my
grandfather was the one who could have
| told you all the stories. He had been
about the convent from Il boy, and the
Even to this day, |, Ramon Buendia. as
you see he here, am the only living man
who knows where the convent jewels
and the sacred vessels lie hidden, still
waiting for their rightful owners to claim
them. He was Il good man (nuy hombre
de blen) nay grandfather. and he would
have bit his tongue in two and spit it
out rather than break his faith, and that
the friars knew right we'll.
How was that?' | said. II thought
the decree OF expulsion had no time to
move or change anything"
Yes: but in this case they had" said
the miller, and his eyes twinked, land
1t was all my grandfather's doing. The
very day before they were turned out
it was not often that he did so-hc went
into the town-it was market day-to Sell
some olives for the friars. When he got
into the plaza he noticed that there was
some stir about the Casa Consistorial.
and he also noticed fitting in AM, out
certain strangers whom he had nrvvr
seen before. 1t was not as it is l,w
when, if one goes into the town, most
oi inc people one sees are unknown to
one. ia those days my grandfather
knew every face i'll the town, and could
pick out stranger at once. Now sc,ne
rumorS of what was about to happen
had got to my grandfather's ears, as it
had to those of others. Everybody
laughed ut them, and paid but little
heed; but the look of these strangers and
the unusual stir about the Casa Colsis-
torial set him a-thinking. So what docs
he DO but leave his olives ana go straight
TO the Alcalde, who was. may tell YOU,
great TREND of my grandfather and Il
great friend of the priOr's, for never Il
summer went by but he came to Be-
larquc to hunt and shoot in the si.rras
ana the cork woods about the convent.
those same you saw this morning They
weren't struggling scrub i'll those davS
sir, but great oak forests, and worth n
mint of money. The ministers in Madrid
cut them down, and sold them for an old
song. Ay! there were plenty lined their
pockets III those days, sir! Well! as |
was saying, he found the Alcaldc busy
T..
he signed, he handed them to Il strange
man whom my grandfather mad never
seen before, who stood beside him. When
he went in, the Alcalde turned III
and without recognizing him or returning
his salute. asked CURLY what he wanted
My grandfather was rather 'DuzzL,d Mt
this, for the Alcalde was one of the
klndest of men. and, as | have said. thew
were great friends. Now, my ;rani-
father had quick brain and instead Of
taking offcnse. he was the more con-
WINGED that something serious was On
hand. So, thinking to himself. .Aoni
hay cato encerrado' fthcrc is something
underneath this), he answered that he
had come about some important business
and that. if only for one moment he
must speak alone with the Alcalde,
''Thc Alcaldc said something to tho
stranger. What it was my grandfather
knew not: but the man gathered up tho
papers and went out.
when they were alone. the Alcaldp.
who was unusually troubled, got I'D and
went to the door. He listened q moment
and then locked it--so gently that the
key scarce clicked in the lock. Then he
went to his desk and wrote something.