THE PROCESSION OF THE MADONNAS.
"Now the procession commenced. Lines of solemn monks, with their gray
gowns fastened at the waist with rope girdles, came out of their
monasteries and reverently followed the particular Madonna worshipped by
their order, as she was carried around, standing on a platform carpeted
with velvet, dressed sumptuously, like a woman of the world. Some of
these Madonnas were covered with jewels richer and in greater profusion
than those worn by the Infanta herself. One, our Lady of Montes Serat,
was elevated on a platform ten feet long, carried by eight stalwart
priests. The platform was carpeted with crimson velvet, ornamented at
the sides with heavy bullion fringe. Her black velvet robe was studded
with diamonds over the whole length of its ample and flowing train. This
swept back to the verge of the platform in heavy folds, while adown the
front was one maze of jewels, covering the velvet so thickly that you
could scarcely see it. A mantilla of such lace as cannot be bought for
gold, fell over her shoulders, and in her stiff hand she carried a
marvel of point lace which, with a living person, would have answered
for a pocket handkerchief.
"Six tall tapers of white wax shed their refulgence over the image,
lighting up all its wealth of jewels, and its sweeping draperies into
wonderful magnificence. The platform was strewn with garlands and
freshly gathered roses, which perfumed the air as she passed through
thousands and thousands who looked upon her with smiles of wonder and
adoration.
"Just as this particular Madonna came slowly in sight, a glorious sunset
poured its last beams upon us, filling the square with an atmosphere of
sifted gold. In the midst of this refulgence, and just as our Lady of
Montes Serat was approaching the royal balcony, a strange scene
surprised us.
"The worshipers of a rival Madonna, composed of priests in sweeping
robes that trailed along the street some ten or fifteen feet, and tall
caps, like extinguishers, on the head--crowded so close upon our Lady of
Montes Serat, that the whole procession was thrown into confusion. One
priest trod on the trailing garments of another, forcing him back
against his brethren. Bitter rivalry between the followers of both
Madonnas was at work. The two images were crowded together and hustled
before the balcony in which the Infanta sat, surrounded by her royal
guests; but the priests still in confusion broke line and fell upon each
other, dealing blows that might have come from prize-fighters. The guard
took alarm, swords flashed from their scabbards. A wild cry arose from
the crowd. The tornado of a great panic swept over it, and while we
looked on terrified, a cloud of dust, a few troopers riding madly about
with drawn swords, and the rival Madonnas, standing stiff and stately
before the Infanta's balcony, were all that remained of the crowd, or
the pageant.
"The square was empty, but every street leading to it was closed up with
frightened people. The Infanta arose, knelt first to one virgin, then
to the other, with impartial homage, and one of her officers gave some
order from a window of the house. Instantly every lamp in the square
blazed into brilliant light, and the people came crowding back rapidly
as they had left. The priests fell into line, and the Infanta, sweeping
down those balcony steps with her four train bearers, placed herself in
front of our Lady of Montes Serat, and led the procession forward in her
own person.
"When the panic was at its height, and the rush of people underneath our
balcony was like a stampede of wild animals, I felt myself growing
faint, and looked around for something to rest against. That instant an
arm supported me and a voice whispered, 'Do not be frightened, you are
safe.'
"I started from his arms lest he should feel the quick beating of my
heart, and replied quickly that I was not afraid.
"He left me then, and I could have cried with vexation at receiving his
kindness so ungraciously. What must he think of me?
"While I was blaming myself and wondering how I could redeem this
seeming coolness, Mrs. Eaton called James Harrington into the room from
which our balcony opened, where she held an animated conversation with
him. Lucy remained behind. I noticed that she leaned over the railing
and seemed anxious about some one who had evidently been swept off with
the crowd, which was then gathering back to the square. Directly I saw
her face brighten, and looking downward for the cause saw the young man
whom we had met on the steamboat, leaning against a lamp post and
looking up to our balcony in an easy, familiar way, that annoyed me.
Still I could not withhold some admiration from the man. He certainly
was a splendid creature, formed in the perfection of manly strength,
and quite handsome enough to turn the head of a vain girl like Lucy.
"I watched the movements of these two persons listlessly, for the
faintness had not quite left me, and they seemed to me like creatures in
a dream. I saw Lucy take a note from her bosom and tie it to a spray of
orange blossoms which she had been wearing there. This she held a moment
carefully in her hands, then leaning over the railing dropped it.
"Had her mother called James Harrington away, that Lucy might be left
unwatched, to give this signal to her strange admirer? All this seemed
like it. How innocent she looked when James came back to the balcony! No
sunshine ever touched a red rose more sweetly than the smile settled on
her lips when he came and bent over her chair."