ore loudly than usual for aid from St. Jago, St. Francis,
St. Benedict, and St. Nicholas, shrieked at the highest pitch of her
voice, "May the three blessed Maries help me!" No sooner were the words
uttered, than in rushed three apparitions, arrayed in white, but so
enfolded in lined, that it was impossible to determine whether they
represented men or women; of their visages, only their eyes were
visible, peering frightfully from the white covering of their heads;
each brandished a good stout cudgel, and each, without uttering a word,
falling quick as thought upon Perez Donilla, repaid him the blows he had
lavished on his unhappy wife with such interest, as would have sealed
his fate indubitably, had not she interposed; but upon the entreaties of
that exemplary wife, the three holy Maries remitted the remainder of
their flagellation, and retired, leaving Perez senseless on the floor.
Poor Juana was agonized at beholding the state to which her graceless
partner was reduced, and hauling him, as well as her own exhausted
strength would permit, upon his miserable pallet, washed the blood and
dust from his wounds, and watched his return to consciousness with
unexampled tenderness and dutiful fidelity. Perez at length opened his
eyes, and said, in the mild voice which was natural to him when sober,
"My poor Juana, I wish you could fetch your cousin Pedro to see me; I
think I shall die." Juana was half distracted at this speech; and
running to the next house, bribed a neighbour's child by the promise of
a broad-brimmed straw hat, to shade his complexion from the sun, to run
for Doctor Pedrillo. Pedro soon arrived, and was evidently more puzzled
respecting his deportment than the case of his patient. Sundry "nods,
and becks, and wreathed smiles," and sundry eloquent glances of his
bright black eyes, were covertly bestowed upon his _fair_ cousin; anon,
with ludicrous solemnity, he felt the pulse of Perez, shook his head,
and, in short, imitated with inimitable exactness all the technical
airs and graces of a regular graduate of Salamanca.--"Cousin," cried he
at length, with a sly look at Juana, "I pity your plight--from my soul I
do; but your case is, I am grieved to say, desperate, unless I am
informed of the _cause_ of these monstrous weals, bruises, slashes, and
chafings, in order that my prescription, may--"--"The _cause_ of them,"
said Perez, almost frightened to death, "is, having to my cost a _saint_
of a wife."--"How! that