Читать книгу The Fortunate Isles: Life and Travel in Majorca, Minorca and Iviza - Mary Stuart Boyd - Страница 4

Alabado sea Dios....

Las doce y media....

Sereno....

it rang out in the stillness.

Jumping out of bed, I reached the open window in time to see the passing of a black figure wrapped in a great cloak, the rays from the lantern he carried throwing a wavering circle of light on the pavement beside him. It was the sereno, the guardian of the sleeping city.

Pausing before one of the closed doors, he smote on it three times with his staff. Then he turned, and passed out of sight, his long wailing cry again rising into the night.

THE SERENO

THE CASA TRANQUILA