All the way the old woman had been muttering to herself in Spanish, but Paul could not understand that.
“I am so tired,” he said, resting the basket upon the ground.
“Oh, it is not far! not far! and I will give you the bright crimson tuft--think of that,” replied the old woman.
So Paul took up the basket, and again they went on a long, long way, and turned so many corners, he feared he could never find his way back, but still the thought of the crimson tuft allured him.
“I must have it,” he said; “that would be a real pleasure.”
At last, when he was just ready to fall down with fatigue, they came to a great iron-barred gate, and the old woman rung the bell very loudly.
In a moment a great rough voice called, in Spanish, as through a trumpet, “Who rings at the gate?”
Very soon the gate was opened by a curious-looking dwarf, who started and grinned fearfully when he saw Paul.
The child offered him the basket, but he only shook his head, pointing after the old woman, who gave him her staff, and walked along with as much ease as little Paul himself.
Now the child was really frightened, and would have run away, but he was already within the gate, and, with a great clang, it closed. The dwarf put up the iron bars, and replaced the bolts. Nothing could be more secure, for all around rose an immense high fence, topped with sharp spikes. It was impossible to escape--no one could get in or out.
A long avenue led to a pleasant-looking house, built in the Spanish fashion. It was shaded with beautiful trees, that had been brought from the southern country. How they waved their long fan-like leaves in the sunshine! It was a picture engraven upon the child’s mind never to be effaced.
Under the shadow of the trees walked the old woman toward the house, and Paul followed with the basket, trembling like the light leaves of the tamarind. Just behind him came the dwarf. He could hear his heavy tread.
“It is no use! no use!” thought the child; but he would gladly have given the tempting crimson tuft, the red morocco ball, all, all his pretty treasures, to have been once more by the mother’s side, selling vegetables in the market.
They entered a large, pleasant drawing-room, with doors opening upon the front piazza and upon the verandah of the inner court, so that, though it was very warm, a delicious breeze swept through the room, and made it delightfully cool.