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Updated: June 12, 2025
The Mayor of Nepenthe, a devout Catholic, deferentially shook hands and introduced the PARROCO and other notabilities. They drove up together. It was all delightfully breezy and informal. But men were aware that in this little episode there lurked more than met the eye; that the arrival of Commendatore Morena was an occasion worthy to be chronicled in the annals of the island.
The woman was startled, color rose into her face. She stared at him. "I'm not dancing, Mr. Morena," she answered. "You know my name," smiled Morena; "and I don't know yours. I've been on Mr. Yarnall's ranch for a month. Why haven't I seen you?" "Fer not lookin', I suppose."
"You are right, Pardon," said the captain, smiling; "the gentleman has missed a figure, certainly. Captain Morena," he added, speaking in Spanish, "you have made a small mistake; you are my prisoner, sir. Nay, start not; you are completely in my power. Dare but to breathe another word of menace, or offer to resist me, and the Vengador shall go to Davy Jones. Pass me that sword."
"It ain't anything like that. I must wish you good-by, an' thank you kindly." "But you'll let me see you again? Where are you stopping? Holliwell's friends are mine." Pierre gave him the address of a small, downtown hotel, thanked him again, and, standing in the hall, added, "If I'm wrong in the notion that brought me to New York, I'll be goin' back again to my ranch, Mr. Morena.
His first sight of the Alhambra is given in a letter to Mademoiselle Bollviller: "Our journey through La Mancha was cold and uninteresting, excepting when we passed through the scenes of some of the exploits of Don Quixote. We were repaid, however, by a night amidst the scenery of the Sierra Morena, seen by the light of the full moon.
I have another book, too, which I shall call 'Metamorphoses, or the Spanish Ovid, one of rare and original invention, for imitating Ovid in burlesque style, I show in it who the Giralda of Seville and the Angel of the Magdalena were, what the sewer of Vecinguerra at Cordova was, what the bulls of Guisando, the Sierra Morena, the Leganitos and Lavapies fountains at Madrid, not forgetting those of the Piojo, of the Cano Dorado, and of the Priora; and all with their allegories, metaphors, and changes, so that they are amusing, interesting, and instructive, all at once.
Here, on a sloping spur of the Sierra Morena, in the upper valley of the Guadalquiver, about seventy miles east of Cordova, lies an extended table-land, a grand plateau whose somewhat sloping surface gave ample space for the vast hosts which met there on that far-off July day. To reach the plateau was the problem before Alfonso.
He was far too disturbed. "Frank Holliwell gave me a note to you, Mr. Morena. I got your address some years ago from Yarnall, of Lazy-Y Ranch, Middle Fork, Wyoming. I've been gettin' my affairs into shape ever since, so that I could come East. I don't rightly know whether Yarnall would have wrote to you concernin' me or no." "Yes. He did write just a line two years ago."
Many a man had gazed, we are sure, at the jagged and indented mountain ridges of Spain, before one called them 'sierras' or 'saws, the name by which now they are known, as Sierra Morena, Sierra Nevada; but that man coined his imagination into a word which will endure as long as the everlasting hills which he named.
For instance a girl whose name has been Elena Lopez writes herself after marriage Elena Lopez de Morena, the "de" in this case standing for "property of." It will be some time before the women of Spain travel far on the Northern road toward pride in sex deliverance, but with us, and in Britain, the custom is growing prevalent.
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