clutched his neck. Then they saw a supernatural sight, the head of Don
Juan, young and beautiful as an Antinoüs, a head with black hair,
brilliant eyes and crimson lips, a head that moved in a blood-curdling
manner without being able to stir the skeleton to which it belonged.

An old servant cried: "A miracle!"

And all the Spaniards repeated: "A miracle!"

Too pious to admit the possibility of magic, Doña Elvira sent for the
Abbot of San Lucas. When the priest saw the miracle with his own eyes he
resolved to profit by it, like a man of sense, and like an abbot who asked
nothing better than to increase his revenues. Declaring that Don Juan must
inevitably be canonized, he appointed his monastery for the ceremony of
the apotheosis. The monastery, he said, should henceforth be called "San
Juan de Lucas." At these words the head made a facetious grimace.

The taste of the Spaniards for this sort of solemnities is so well known
that it should not be difficult to imagine the religious spectacle with
which the abbey of San Lucas celebrated the translation of "the blessed
Don Juan Belvidéro" in its church. A few days after the death of this
illustrious nobleman, the miracle of his partial resurrection had been so
thoroughly spread from village to village throughout a circle of more than
fifty leagues round San Lucas that it was as good as a play to see the
curious people on the road. They came from all sides, drawn by the
prospect of a "Te Deum" chanted by the light of burning torches. The
ancient mosque of the monastery of San Lucas, a wonderful building,
erected by the Moors, which for three hundred years had resounded with the
name of Jesus Christ instead of Allah, could not hold the crowd which was
gathered to view the ceremony. Packed together like ants, the hidalgos in