Atfirst all seemed to go well enough. The Governor's lady was fairly gracious to me; old Señor de Colis was profuse in his leering smiles and wordy compliments, none of which I could understand; I saw Mr. Rivers and Melinza from time to time, and they seemed upon good terms with each other: but I did not believe this state of affairs could last,—and I was right in my fears.
One night ('twas the twenty-second of June, and the weather was sultry and oppressive; the sea held its breath, and the round moon burned hot in the hazy sky) the evening meal was served in the little courtyard of the Governor's house, and both Mr. Rivers and Melinza were our guests.
This was not the first occasion on which we had all broken bread at the same board; but there was now an air of mockery in the civilities of Melinza,—he passed the salt to my betrothed with a glance of veiled hostility, and pledged him in a glass of wine with asmile that ill concealed the angry curl of his sullen red lip.
'Twas a strange meal; the memory of it is like a picture stamped upon my brain.
From the tall brass candlesticks upon the table, the unflickering tapers shone down upon gleaming damask and glistening silver, and kindled sparks amid the diamonds that caught up the folds of lace on the dark head of Doña Orosia, and that gemmed the white fingers clasping her slow-moving fan. Hers was a beauty that boldly challenged men's admiration and exacted tribute of their eyes. The white-haired Governor paid it in full measure, with a fixed and watery gaze from beneath his half-closed lids, and a senile smile lurking under his waxed moustache. But whenever I glanced upward I met the eyes of Mr. Rivers and Don Pedro turned upon me; and I felt a strange thrill made up, in part, of triumph that my dear love was not to be won from his allegiance, and in part of terror because there was that in the Spaniard's gaze that betokened a nature ruled wholly by its hot passions and a will to win what it craved by fair means or by foul.
I could eat little for the heat and the pungent flavour of strange sauces, so I dallied with my plate only as an excuse for loweredeyes; and, although I listened all the while with strained attention, the talk ran by too swiftly for me to grasp any of its meaning.
"TO THE BRIGHTEST EYES AND THE LIPS MOST WORTHY OF KISSES!"—Page 55.
But Doña Orosia was neither deaf nor blind; her keen black eyes had noted every glance that passed her by. With a deeper flush on her olive cheek, and a prouder poise of her haughty head, she made to me at last the signal for withdrawal.
The three gentlemen, glasses in hand, rose from their seats; and, as we passed beneath the arched trellis that led away from the paved court into the fragrant garden, Don Pedro lifted his glass to his lips with a gesture in our direction, and exclaimed in French:
"To the fairest face in San Augustin! To the brightest eyes and the lips most worthy of kisses! May the light of those eyes never be withdrawn from these old walls, nor the lips lack a Spanish blade to guard them from all trespassers!"
The Governor, who understood not the French words, lifted his glass in courteous imitation of his nephew's gesture; but Mr. Rivers coloured hotly and set down his upon the table.
"I like not your toast, Señor Melinza, whichever way I construe it. The face I holdfairest here shall leave San Augustin the day that I depart; and, since it is the face of my promised wife, it needs no other sword than mine to fend off trespassers!"
He, too, spoke in French; and as the words passed his lips I felt the soft, strong hand of Doña Orosia grasp my arm and drag me backward among the screening vines, beyond the red light of the tapers, where we could listen unseen.
Melinza was laughing softly. "Señor Rivers says he cannot construe my toast to his liking; but perhaps if I give it him in the Spanish tongue he may find the interpretation more to his taste!" Then he lifted his glass again and slowly repeated the words in his own language, with a meaning glance toward the Governor.
The old man drained his goblet to the dregs, and then turned a flushed face upon the Englishman and laid his hand upon his sword.
My dear love had no thoughts of prudence left,—for Melinza's words had been a direct charge of cowardice,—so for all answer he took the frail goblet from the table and threw it in the younger Spaniard's face.
There was a tinkle of broken glass upon the stone pavement, and Melinza wiped the red wine from his cheek. Then he held up thestained kerchief before the eyes of my dear love and spoke a few words in his softest voice.
An angry smile flickered over the countenance of my betrothed; he bowed stiffly in response.
The blear-eyed Governor broke in hotly, with his hand still upon his sword; his dull eyes narrowed, and the blood mounted higher in his wrinkled cheek: but his nephew laid a restraining hand upon his arm, and, with another laughing speech and a profound bow to Mr. Rivers, pointed toward the door.
I saw the three of them depart through the passageway that led to the street entrance. I heard the creak of the hinges, and the clang of the bars as they fell back into place. Then a strong, sweet odour of crushed blossoms turned me faint. I loosed my hold of the screening vines and stepped backward with a sudden struggle for breath.
The woman beside me caught my arm a second time and drew me still farther away down the moonlit path.
"Is he aught of a swordsman, this fine cavalier of thine?" she demanded, grasping my shoulder tightly and scanning my face with her scornful eyes.
Then my senses came to me: I knew whathad happened—what was bound to follow; and I began to speak wildly and to pray her to prevent bloodshed between them.
I scarce know what I said; but the words poured from my lips, and for very despair I checked them not. I told her of my orphan state—of that lone grave in Barbadoes, and the sad young mother who had died of a broken heart; I spoke of the long, long journey over seas, the love that had come into my life, and the dreams and the hopes that had filled our thoughts when we reached the fair, strange shores of this new country; and I prayed her, as she was a woman and a wife, to let no harm come to my dear love.
"Ah! madame," I cried, "a face so fair as yours needs not the championship of one English stranger, who holds already a preference for blue eyes and yellow hair. I grant you that he has a sorry taste; but oh! I pray you, stop this duel!"
She loosed her hand from the clasp of mine, and looked at me a moment in silence; then she laughed bitterly.
"Thou little fool! Thou little blue-eyed fool! What do men see in that face of thine to move them so? A painter might love thee for the gold of thy hair, thy white brow, and thy blue eyes,—they would grace a picturedsaint above a shrine,—but for a man's kisses, and such love as might tempt him to risk his very life for thee,—cielos! it is more than passing strange." Then, as I stood dumb before her, she tapped me lightly on the cheek. "Go to! Art such a fool as to think thateithersword will be drawn formybeauty's sake?"
Thatnight I had but little sleep.
About an hour after midnight there was a great stir in the house and the sound of opening doors and hurrying footsteps. The unwonted noises terrified me. I leaned against the door, with a heart beating thickly, and I listened. What evil tidings did those sounds portend? There was a loud outcry in a woman's voice,—the voice of Doña Orosia.
I felt that I must know what havoc Fate had wrought in the last hours. I looked at Barbara—she slumbered peacefully on her hard pallet; the moonlight, streaming through the barred window, showed me her withered face relaxed in almost childlike peacefulness. I would not rouse her,—'twas a blessed thing to sleep and forget; butIdared not sleep, for I knew not what would be the horror of my waking. With my cheek pressed close against the door I waited a moment longer. Perhaps only those planks intervened 'twixt me and my life's tragedy!
I laid my hand upon the latch. I feared to know the truth,—and yet, if I did not hear it, I must die of dread. Slowly I turned the key and raised the bars: the door swung open.
I stepped out upon the balcony that overhung the court and I looked over. There was no one in sight; the white moonlight lay over everything, and a strong perfume floated up from the flowers in the garden beyond.
I crept down the stair and stood still in the centre of the empty court. Voices sounded near me, but I knew not whence they came. Trembling still, I moved toward the passage that led to the outer door, and I saw that it was bright as day. The door stood ajar. Those who had last gone out had been strangely forgetful—or greatly agitated.
Scarce knowing what I did, I crossed the threshold and hurried down the street in the direction of the fort.
A group of three men stood upon the corner. At the sight of them I paused and hid in the shadow of the wall; but, one of them turning his face toward me, I recognized Captain Baulk, and, going quickly forward, I laid my hand upon his arm.
"How is he? Where have they taken him?" I whispered.
"What! is't Mistress Tudor? Have theyturned you adrift, then? Lor', 'tis a frail craft to be out o' harbour such foul weather!"
"How is he?" I repeated, tightening my grasp upon his sleeve.
"Dead as a pickled herring, poor lad!"
My head struck heavily against the wall as I fell, but I made no outcry.
"Sink me! but the poor lassie thought I meant Mr. Rivers!" I heard the old sailor exclaim as he dropped on his knees beside me,—and the words stayed my failing senses.
"Whom did you mean?" I gasped.
"Young Poole has been done to death, Mistress Margaret. As honest a lad as ever lived, too,—more's the pity!"
I struggled to raise myself, crying: "What do you tell me? Have they killed the lad in pure spite against his master? And where is Mr. Rivers?"
They made me no answer.
"He is dead, then! I knew it, my heart told me so!"
"Eh! poor lass! 'Tis not so bad as that—yet bad enough. They've hung chains enough upon him to anchor a man-o'-war, and moored him fast in the dungeon of the fort. D—n 'em for a crew o' dastard furriners!—an' he own cousin to an English earl!"
"Can you not tell me a straight tale?" Icried. "What has he done to be so ill served? And whose the enmity behind it all,—Melinza's, or the Governor's?"
"Lor'!" exclaimed one of the sailors, "the young Don is past revenge, mistress. If he lives out the night 'tis more than I look to see."
"Here, now, let me tell the tale, lad," the old captain interposed. "'Twas a duel began it, Mistress Tudor. The young bloods were so keen after fighting they could not wait for sunrise, but must needs have it out by moonlight on the beach. 'Twas over yonder, in the lee of the castle walls."
"Mr. Rivers and Don Pedro?"
"Aye, mistress. The Governor was not by,—'tis likely he knew naught of it."
"Not so!" I cried, "he had his share in the quarrel, and they left the house in company."
"Mayhap," said Captain Baulk, "I'd not gainsay it—for I trust no one o' them; but he chose to go with his weather eye shut rather than take precaution 'gainst the squall. So they had it out all by their selves,—and none of us a whit the wiser, saving young Poole, who had guessed somewhat was amiss and followed his master."
"What then? Speak quickly! Was Mr. Rivers wounded?"
"Not he! That's to say, not by any thrust of the Don's. Lor', but it must ha' been a pretty fight! Pity no man saw it that lives to tell!"
"In the name of mercy, sir, speak plainly!"
"Aye, my young mistress, but give me time an' I will. Mr. Rivers ere long did get in such a thrust that the Don went down before it as suddenly as a ship with all her hull stove in. He lay stranded, with the blood flowing away in a dark stream over the white sands. Our young gentleman, gallant heart, did throw away his sword and fall down beside the Spaniard and strive to staunch his wounds, crying aloud most lustily for aid. Who should hear him but young Poole and that yellow devil of a Tomas! They came from opposite quarters, and Poole was in the shadow, so the other saw him not. The mulatto ran up alongside, and, seeing 'twas the Don who had fallen, he whipped out a knife from his belt and struck at our young master as he knelt there on the ground. Nay, now, do not take on so! Did I not say he was but little hurt? Had the blow struck him fairly in the back, as it was meant to do, doubtless it would have put an end to him; but Poole was to the rescue, poor lad! He threw himself on the mulatto in the nick o' time. The knife had barelygrazed Mr. Rivers on the shoulder; but young Tomas never let go his hold of it. He and the faithful lad rolled together on the ground—and Poole never rose again. His body was stabbed through in a dozen places. Mr. Rivers had no time to interfere; ere he could rise from his knees, or even put out a hand to take his sword, a dozen soldiers had laid hands on him. That devil of a Tomas finished his evil work, and then picked himself up and walked away; never a one laid a finger on him or cried shame on the foul deed!"
The old sailor paused, and each man of the group breathed a curse through his clinched teeth.
"They have taken Mr. Rivers to the dungeon of the fort?" I whispered.
"Aye, so they tell us. None of us were there, which is perhaps for the good of our necks,—yet I would we had had a chance to strike a blow in defence of the poor lad."
"And the Spaniard—Don Pedro?"
"They carried him into the Governor's own house a while since. I think his wound is mortal."
"Then he has brought his death upon himself, for he forced Mr. Rivers into the quarrel," I declared hastily.
"'Twas bound to come," admitted CaptainBaulk, "there has been bad blood between them from the very first. But what are we to do with you, mistress? Did they put you out in anger?"
"Nay," I exclaimed, "I heard a great disturbance and hastened out to seek the cause. The outer door was left unbarred."
"Why then, mistress, we would best make for it again before 'tis shut! This is no hour and no place for a young maid to be out alone." Taking me by the hand he led me back the way I had come; but we were too late. The entrance was closed and barred against us.
"Now, what's to do?" exclaimed the old sailor in dismay.
I had been too crushed and dazed by the ill news to think before of my imprudence; but now I realized how very unwisely I had acted. I turned hastily to the old captain.
"Go and leave me, my good friend," I said. "Already there has been enough trouble of my making. Do not let me have to answer for more. I will wait here and call for some one to open for me. 'Tis better for me to say what is the truth—that I wandered out in my anxiety. Go, I pray you, and be discrete in your conduct, that they may have no just cause to imprison you also."
He saw the wisdom of it and went awayout of sight, while I beat with all my might upon the door.
In a moment steps sounded within, the bars fell, and the door was drawn back. It was the Governor himself who stood there. He looked at me in astonishment as he drew aside for me to pass.
I attempted no explanation; for I knew he could not understand me. Doubtless he would tell his lady and she would hold me to account. Slowly I mounted to the balcony above and pushed open the door of my chamber.
The dame still slept peacefully. I went softly to the window and knelt down. My heart was sick for the faithful lad who had died in defending Mr. Rivers. Poor boy! He had no mother—I wonder if there was a little lass anywhere whom he loved? But no, he was young for that. I think his love was all his master's. And to die for those whom we love best is not so sad a fate as to live for their undoing!
The hot tears ran down my face. I leaned my cheek against the bars and set free my thoughts, which flew, as swift as homing pigeons, to my dear love in his dungeon cell.
Oh! I would that all the prayers I pray,and all the tender thoughts I think of him, had wings in very truth; and that after they had flown heavenward they might bear thence some balm, some essence of divinest pity, to cheer him in his loneliness! If it were so, then there would be in never-ending flight, up from the barred window where I kneel, and downward to the narrow slit in his prison wall, two shining lines of fluttering white wings coming and going all these long nights through!
Manydays have passed since I began to write these pages.
All the morning after that terrible night, with Barbara I waited fearfully for some manifestation of Doña Orosia's anger. But there was none, nor were we summoned out that day. Food was brought to us, and we remained like prisoners in our chamber. Don Pedro was very low, the servant told us, and the Governor's lady was nursing him.
A week went by,—the longest week I had ever known,—and then we heard that Melinza would recover. However, it was not until he had lain ill a fortnight that Doña Orosia came to visit me.
I was sitting by the window with my head upon my hand, and Barbara was putting some stitches in the worn places in her gown, when the door opened to admit my hostess.
She came straight toward me with a glint of anger in her dark eyes. The long nights of anxious watching had driven back the blood from her smooth olive cheek, and thered lips showed the redder for her unaccustomed pallor. She laid one hand on my head, tilting it backward.
"You little white-faced fool! I would you had never set foot in this town," she cried bitterly.
"Ah! madame, I came not of my own free will," I answered her. "I and my dear love would willingly go hence, an you gave us the means to do so!"
"'Tis likely that we shall, truly," she replied. "'Tis likely that the Governor of San Augustin will keep a galley to ply up and down the coast for the convenience of you English intruders! There came two more of you this morning, from the friar at Santa Catalina."
"Two more English prisoners!" I exclaimed. "Who are they, madame?"
"I know not, and I care not," she said. "I meddle not with things that do not concern me. I come here now but to hear how you came to be on the streets at midnight. Had I been in the Governor's place then, I would have shut the door in your face."
I told her the truth, as it had happened to me; and when she had heard it her brow lightened somewhat.
"Are you deceiving me? You did not leave here tillafterthe duel had taken place?"
"Madame," I said, "I have never yet told a lie, and I would not now were it to save my life."
Her lip curled slightly as she turned to go. "Stir not from this room, then, until Don Pedro is well enough to leave the house," she said. "If I could prevent it he should never look upon your face again." She paused an instant, then added: "Iwillprevent it!"
"Amen to that!" I said, and I felt the blood burn warmly in my cheek.
She turned and looked at me, and I met her gaze with defiant eyes.
"Amen to that, madame!—for truly I hate him with all my heart!"
She stood still, a slow crimson rising in her pale face, and I trembled a little at my own daring. Then, to my surprise, she laughed at me.
"You think that you hate him desperately?" she exclaimed. "Silly child, it is not in thy power to hate that man as I do, as I have done for years!" and with that she went away and left me wondering.
July, the 16th day.
Two things have happened recently to break the sad monotony of my life within these walls.
Doña Orosia and Melinza have had a disagreement, which has resulted in his removal hence—at his own demand. Although I know nothing of the cause of their quarrel, Doña Orosia's last words to me, the other day, make it possible to understand the man's reluctance to remain here in her care,—and yet they say it was her nursing that saved his life! I would that I could understand it all!
Since his departure I have had the freedom of the courtyard and garden; and yesterday, by good chance, I had speech with one of the newly arrived English prisoners.
It had been a day of terrible heat, and just at nightfall I wandered out into the garden all alone. There is a high wall to it, which so joins the dwelling that together they form a hollow square. This wall is of soft gray stone; it is of a good thickness, and about a man'sheight. Along the top of it sharp spikes are set; and near one corner is a wrought-iron gate of great strength, which is kept securely locked.
It is not often that I venture near this gate, for it looks out upon the street, and I care not to be seen by any Indian or half-breed Spaniard who might go loitering by; but as I stood in the vine-covered arbour in the centre of the garden I heard a man's voice from the direction of the gate, humming a stave of a maritime air that I had heard sung oft and again by the sailors on the sloop, in which some unknown fair one is ardently invited to—
"—be the Captain's lady!"
and I knew it must be a friend. So I made haste thither and peered out into the street.
Sure enough it was old Captain Baulk, and with him a gentleman whose face, even in the twilight, was well known to me,—he being none other than Mr. John Collins of Barbadoes (the same who had given us news of my poor father's end, and one of our fellow passengers on theThree Brothers).
They both greeted me most kindly and inquired earnestly how I did and if I was well treated. It seems that for days they had been trying to get speech with me, but could find none to deliver a message; so for two nightspast they had hung about the gate, hoping that by chance I might come out to them.
Mr. Collins related to me how the sloop had been sent back to Santa Catalina with letters to the friar and the Governor of San Augustin, demanding our release on the ground that as peace was now subsisting between the crowns of England and of Spain, and no act of hostility had been committed by us, our capture was unwarrantable. But Padre Ignacio, with his plausible tongue, had beguiled them ashore into his power.
"The man is a very devil for fair words and smooth deceits," declared Mr. Collins. "In spite of all the warnings we had received, some of us landed without first demanding hostages of the Indians; and when we would have departed two of us were forcibly detained on pretence of our lacking proper credentials to prove our honesty. In sooth he charged us with piratical intentions, though we had not so much as cracked a pistol or inveigled one barbarian aboard. The sloop lingered for three days, but finally made off, leaving us in the hands of the padre. He despatched us here in canoes, under a guard of some twenty half-naked savages, with shaven crowns, who are no more converted Christians than the fiends in hell!"
I asked, then, for news of my uncle, Dr. Scrivener, and Mr. Collins assured me that he was most anxious for my safety, and would have come back with them to demand us of the friar, but he had received a hurt in the neck during the attack at Santa Catalina and was in no state to travel, although the wound was healing well—for which God be thanked!
So far, all the prisoners, except Mr. Rivers, have the freedom of the town; but Captain Baulk declared he would as lief be confined within the fort.
"There be scarce two honest men—saving ourselves—in all San Augustin," he said. "The lodging-house where we sleep is crowded with dirty, thieving half-breeds, who would as willingly slit a man's throat as a pig's. Though they hold us as guests against our will, we must e'en pay our own score; and some fine night—you mark me!—we shall find ourselves lacking our purses."
"Then the Governor will be at the cost of our entertainment," said Mr. Collins.
"'Twill be prison fare, sir," grunted the old sailor, "and we'll be lucky if he doesn't find it cheaper to heave us overboard and be done with it!"
"Tut! man,—hold your croaking tongue in the poor young lady's presence," whisperedMr. Collins; but I heard what he said, and bade him tell us our true case and what real hope there was of our liberation.
"There is every certainty," he said. "When word reaches their Lordships in England, they will not fail to make complaint to the Spanish Council,—and they have no just cause for refusing to set us free. But I trust we shall not have to wait for that. If we had a Governor of spirit, instead of a timorous old man like Sayle, he would have already sent the frigate down here to demand us of the Spaniards. There are not lacking men to carry out the enterprise: Captain Brayne could scarce be restrained from swooping down on the whole garrison—as Rob Searle did, not long ago, when he rescued Dr. Woodward out of their clutches."
"Captain Brayne!—the frigate! Do you mean that theCarolinahas arrived?"
"Two months ahead of our sloop," declared Mr. Collins; "but Governor Sayle has despatched her to Virginia for provisions, of which we were beginning to run short. ThePort Royalhas not been heard of, so 'tis feared she went down in the storm."
He went on to tell me of the new settlement which had been already laid out at a place called Kiawah,—a very fair and fruitfulcountry, which Heaven grant I may one day see!
In my turn I related all that had befallen me since we reached this place. They heard me out very gravely, and promised to contrive some means of communicating with me in case of need.
Then, as it grew very late, we parted, promising to meet the following night; and I crept softly back to the house and my little room, greatly comforted that I now had a worthy gentleman like Mr. Collins with whom I could advise; for with his knowledge of the Spanish tongue and his sound judgment I hope he may influence the Governor in our favour.
The sun is setting now, I think, although I cannot see it from my window; for all the sky without is faintly pink, and every ripple on the bay turns a blushing cheek toward the west. I must lay by my pen and watch for an opportunity to keep tryst at the gateway with my two good friends....
Nine of the clock.
God help me! I waited in the garden till I heard a whistle, and stole down to the gate as before.
A man put out his hand and caught at mine through the bars. It was that vile Tomas—thewretch who would have murdered my dear love! I screamed and fled, but he called after me in Spanish. The words were strange to me—but the tones of his voice and the coarse laughter needed no interpreter!
As I flew across the garden, too frightened to attempt concealment, Doña Orosia stepped out into the courtyard and demanded an explanation. I knew not what to say, for I could not divulge the motive that had sent me out; but I told her that a man had called me from the gate, and when I went near to see who it might be I recognized the servant of Melinza.
She seemed to doubt me at first, till I described him closely; then she was greatly angered and forbade me the garden altogether.
"If I find you here alone again," she hissed, seizing my shoulder with no gentle grasp, "if I find you here again, I will turn the key upon you and keep you prisoner in your chamber."
So now I dare not venture beyond the court and the balconies; and there will be no chance of speaking with Mr. Collins unless he dares to come under my window, and there is little hope of his doing that unseen, for 'tis in full view from the ramparts of the fort, where a sentry paces day and night.
August, the 7th day.
When I began this tale of our captivity it was with the hope that I might find some means of sending it to friends, in this country or in England, who would interest themselves in obtaining our release. However, from what Mr. Collins told me, I feel assured that news of Mr. Rivers's capture has already been sent to their Lordships the proprietors, and this record of mine seems now but wasted labour. Yet from time to time, for my own solace, I shall add to it; and perchance, some day in safety and freedom, I and——another——may together read its tear-stained pages.
This day I have completed the seventeenth year of my age. It is a double anniversary, for one year ago this night—it being the eve of our departure from England—I first set eyes upon my dear love.
Can it be possible that he, in his dolorous prison, has taken account of the passing days and remembers that night—a year ago? 'Twould be liker a man if he took no thought ofthe date till it was past,—yet I do greatly wonder if he has forgotten.
As for me, the memory has lived with me all these hours since I unclosed my eyes at dawn.
I can see now the brightly lighted cabin of theCarolina, where the long supper-table was laid for the many passengers who were to set out on the morrow for a new world. I had been somehow parted from my uncle, Dr. Scrivener, and I stood in the cabin doorway half afraid to venture in and meet the eyes of all the strangers present. I felt the colour mounting warmly in my cheek, and my feet were very fain to run away, when Captain Henry Brayne, the brave and cheery commander of the frigate, caught sight of me, and, rising hastily, led me to a seat at his own right hand.
(I do recollect that I wore a new gown of fine blue cloth—a soft and tender colour, that became me well.)
As I took my place I glanced shyly round, and saw, at the farther end of the long table, the gallantest gentleman I had ever set eyes upon in all my sixteen years of life. He was looking directly at me, and presently he lifted his glass and said:
"Captain Brayne, I give youthe Carolina and every treasure she contains!"
There was some laughter as the toast was drunk, and my uncle—who had only that moment entered and taken his seat beside me—asked of me an explanation.
"Nay, Dr. Scrivener," said the jovial captain, "'tis not likely the little lady was attending. But now I give you—the health of Mistress Tudor!(and it will not be the first time it has been proposed to-night!)"
And that was but a year ago. I would never have guessed that at seventeen I could feel so very old.
San Augustin's Day—August, the 28th.
Oh! but I have been angered this day!
What? when my betrothed lies in prison, ill, perhaps, or fretting his brave heart away, am I to be dragged forth to make part of a pageant for the entertainment of his jailers? I would sooner have the lowest cell in the dungeon—aye! and starve and stifle for lack of food and air, than be forced to deck myself out in borrowed bravery, and sit mowing and smiling in a gay pavilion, and clap hands in transport over the fine cavalier airs of the man I hold most in abhorrence!
Do they take me for so vapid a little fool that I may be compelled to any course they choose? Nay, then, they have learned a lesson. Oh, but it is good to be in a fair rage for once!
I had grown so weary and sick at heart that the blood crawled sluggishly in my veins; my eyes were dull and heavy; I had sat listlessly, with idle hands, day after day, waiting—waiting for I knew not what! Therefore it was that I had no will or courage to oppose theGovernor's wife when she came to me this morning and bade me wear the gown she brought, and pin a flower in my hair, and sit with her in the Governor's pavilion to see the fine parade go by.
"This is a great day in San Augustin," she said, "being the one-hundred-and-fifth anniversary of its founding by the Spanish."
As the captives of olden times made part of the triumph of their conquerors, 'twas very fit that I, forsooth, should lend what little I possessed of youth and fairness to the making of a Spanish holiday!
But I was too spiritless, then, to dare a refusal. I bowed my head meekly enough while Chépa—the smiling, good-natured negress—gathered up the rustling folds of the green silk petticoat and slipped it over my shoulders. I made no demur while she looped and twisted the long tresses of my yellow hair, fastening it high with a tall comb, and tying a knot of black velvet riband upon each of the wilful little bunches of curls that ever come tumbling about my ears.
When all was finished, and the lace mantilla fastened to my comb and draped about my shoulders, I was moved by Barbara's cries of admiration to cast one glance upon the mirror. 'Twas an unfamiliar picture that I saw there,and my pale face blushed with some mortification that it should have lent itself so kindly to a foreign fashion.
I would have thrown off all the braveries that minute; but just then came a message from Doña Orosia, bidding me hasten.
"What matters anything to me now?" I thought wearily; and, slowly descending to the courtyard, I took my place in the closed chair that waited, and was borne after the Governor's lady to the Plaza, where, at the western end facing upon the little open square, was the gay pavilion.
Its red and yellow banners shone gaudily in the hot sunlight of the summer afternoon, and the fresh sea breeze kept the tassels and streamers all a-flutter, like butterflies hovering over a bed of flowers.
Three sides of the Plaza were lined with spectators, but the eastern end—which opened out toward the bay—was kept clear for the troops to enter.
Against the slight railing of the little pavilion leaned Doña Orosia, strangely fair in a gown of black lace and primrose yellow, that transformed the soft contours of her throat and cheek from pale olive to the purest pearl. She deigned to bestow but a single cold, unfriendly glance upon me; then she bent forwardas before, her lifted fan shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun-kissed sea.
Presently, with the blare of trumpets and the deep rolling of the drums, the King's troops came in sight, three hundred strong.
At the head of the little band, which marched afoot, rode Melinza and the Governor. 'Twas the first time I had seen a horse in the town.
Old Señor de Colis was mounted on a handsome bay that pranced and curvetted beneath him, to his most evident discomfort; but Melinza's seat was superb. It was a dappled gray he rode, with flowing mane and tail of silvery white; a crimson rosette was fastened to its crimped forelock, and the long saddle-cloth was richly embroidered.
As the little company swept round the square, the two horsemen saluted our pavilion. Don Pedro lifted his plumed hat high, and I saw that his face was pale from his recent wound, but the bold black eyes were as bright as ever they had been before.
I drew back hastily from the front of the pavilion and made no pretence of returning his salute. Then, for the first time since I had taken my seat beside her, Doña Orosia spoke to me.
"Why such scant courtesy?" she asked, with lifted brows.
"Madame," I answered, "had my betrothed been here at my side, an honoured guest, I would have had more graciousness at my command."
"What!" she exclaimed, "have you not yet had time to forget your quarrelsome cavalier?"
"I will forget him, madame, when I cease to remember the treachery of those who called themselves his entertainers."
She flushed angrily. "Your tongue has more of spirit than your face. I wonder that you have the courage to say this to me."
"I dare, because I have nothing more to lose, madame!"
"Say you so? Would you rather I gave you into Melinza's keeping?"
"Nay!" I cried, "you could not—such unfaith would surpass the limits of even Spanish treachery! And you would not—it would please you betterif he never set eyes upon my face again! I only wonder that you should have brought me here to-day!"
She opened her lips to speak; but the blare of the trumpets drowned the words, and she turned away from me.
The troops were drawn in line across the square: on the right, the Spanish regulars of the garrison; on the left, the militia companies,which had come up while we were speaking. These last were made up, for the most part, of mulattoes and half-breed Indians,—a swarthy-faced, ill-looking band that appeared fitter for savage warfare of stealth and ambuscade and poisoned arrows than for valorous exploits and honest sword-play.
The various manœuvres of the troops, under the skilled leadership of Don Pedro, occupied our attention for upward of an hour, during all which time my companion appeared quite unconscious of my presence. She sat motionless save for the swaying of her fan. Only once did her face express aught but fixed attention—and that was when a sudden fanfare of the trumpets caused the Governor's horse to plunge, and the old man lurched forward on the pommel of his saddle, his plumed hat slipping down over his eyes.
For an instant the swaying fan was still; a low laugh sounded in my ear, and, turning, I saw the red lips of the Governor's lady take on a very scornful curve.
She received him graciously enough, however, when—the review being over—he dismounted and joined us in the pavilion.
Melinza had retired with the troops; but just as the last rank disappeared from view he came galloping back at full speed, flunghimself from the saddle, and, throwing the reins to an attendant, mounted the pavilion stair.
I felt that Doña Orosia's eyes were upon me, and I believed that she liked me none the less for my hostility to the man. It may have been this that gave me courage—I do not know—I think I would not have touched his hand in any case.
He flushed deeply when I put both of mine behind my back; then, with the utmost effrontery, he leaned forward and plucked away one little black rosette that had fallen loose from my curls and was slipping down upon my shoulder. This he raised to his lips with a laugh, and then fastened upon his breast.
I was deeply angered, and I cast about for some means of retaliation that would show him the scorn I held him in.
At the foot of the pavilion stood the youth who was holding Melinza's horse.
I leaned over the railing, and, loosing quickly from my hair the fellow to the rosette Don Pedro wore, I tossed it to the lad below, saying, in almost the only Spanish words I knew,—
"It is a gift!"
Melinza's face grew white with anger; he tore off the bit of riband and ground it underhis heel; then he strode down the stair, mounted his horse, and rode away.
The Governor's lady watched him till he was out of sight; then, with a strange smile, she said to me,—
"I never knew before that blue eyes had so much of fire in them. I think, my little saint, 'tis time I sent you back to your old duenna."
"I would thank you for so much grace!" was my reply. And back to Barbara I was despatched forthwith.
But though I have been some hours in my chamber, my indignation has not cooled. The very sight of that man's countenance is more than I can endure!
I am resolved that I will never set foot outside my door when there is any chance of my encountering him, and so I shall inform the Governor's wife when she returns....
She laughs at me! She declares I shall do whatever is her pleasure! And what is my puny strength to hers? With all the will in the world to resist her, I am as wax in her hands!
Thefirst day of March.
For six months I have added nothing to this record; though time and again I have taken up my pen to write, and then laid it by, with no mark upon the fresh page. Can heartache be written down in words? Can loneliness and longing,—the desolation of one who has no human creature on whom to lavish love and care,—the dull misery that is known only to those whose best beloved are suffering the worst woes of this woeful life,—can all these be told? Ah, no! one can only feel them—bear them—and be crushed by them.
If it had not been for the good old dame, I know not what would have become of me. Many a day and many a night I have clung to her for hours, weeping—crying aloud, "I cannot bear it! I cannot!" What choice had I but to bear it? And tears cannot flow forever; the calm of utter weariness succeeds.
'Tis not that I have been ill treated. I am well housed, and daintily clothed and fed. Unless Melinza—or some other guest—ispresent, I sit at the Governor's own table. His wife makes of me something between a companion and a plaything: one moment I have to bear with her capricious kindness; the next, I am teased or driven away from her with as little courtesy as she shows to the noble hound that follows her like her own shadow.
Until lately I have seen little of Melinza. Early in the winter he went away to the Habana and remained absent two months, during which time I had more peace of mind than I have known since first we came here. But since his return he has tried in various ways to force himself into my presence; and Doña Orosia,—who could so easily shield me if she chose,—before she comes to my relief, permits him to annoy me until I am roused to the point of passionate repulse. One could almost think she loves to see me suffer—unless it is the sight of his discomfiture that affords her such satisfaction.
But all of this I could endure if only my dear love were free! I have heard that he is ill. It may not be true,—God grant that it is not! Still, though the rumour came to me by devious ways, and through old Barbara's lips at last (and she is ever prone to think the worst), it is more than possible! I, myself,have suffered somewhat from this long confinement; and in how much worse case is he!
I have tried to occupy myself, that I may keep my thoughts from dwelling forever on our unhappy state. In the past six months I have so far mastered the Spanish tongue that now I can converse in it with more ease than in the French. The Governor declares that I have the true intonation; and even Doña Orosia admits that I have shown some aptitude. I care nothing for it as a mere accomplishment; but I hope that the knowledge may be of use if ever we attempt escape. (Though what chance of escape is there when Mr. Rivers is within stone walls and I have no means of even holding converse with Mr. Collins?)
I have one other accomplishment that has won me more favour with the Governor's wife than aught else. She discovered, one day, that I have some skill with the lute, and a voice not lacking in sweetness; and now she will have me sing to her by the hour until my throat is weary and I have to plead for rest.
I had, recently, a conversation with her that has haunted me every hour since; for it showed me a side of her nature that I had not seen before, and that leads me to think that under her caprice and petulance there is a deep purpose hidden.
I had exhausted my list of songs, and as she still demanded more I bethought me of a curious old ballad I had heard many years ago. The air eluded me for some while; but my fingers, straying over the strings, fell suddenly into the plaintive melody; with it, the words too came back to me.