I bade my love fareweel, wi' tears;He bade fareweel to me."How sall I pass the lang, lang years?""I maun be gane," quo' he.The tear-draps frae mine een did rinLike water frae a spring;But while I grat, my love gaed inTo feast and reveling!The tear-draps frae mine een did startSalt as the briny tide:Sae sair my grief, sae fu' my heart,I wept a river wide.Adoon that stream my man did rove,And crossed the tearfu' sea.O whaur'll I get a leal true loveTo bide at hame wi' me?The lang, lang years they winna pass;My lord is still awa'.Mayhap he loves a fairer lass—O wae the warst ava!How sall I wile my lover hame?I'll drink the tearfu' seas!My red mou' to their briny faem,I'll drain them to the lees!Then gin he comes na hameward soonHis ain true love to wed,I'll kilt my claes and don my shoonAnd cross the sea's dry bed."Oh in thine heart, my love, my lord,Mak' room, mak' room for me;Or at thy feet, by my true word,Thy lady's grave sall be!"
I bade my love fareweel, wi' tears;He bade fareweel to me."How sall I pass the lang, lang years?""I maun be gane," quo' he.
The tear-draps frae mine een did rinLike water frae a spring;But while I grat, my love gaed inTo feast and reveling!
The tear-draps frae mine een did startSalt as the briny tide:Sae sair my grief, sae fu' my heart,I wept a river wide.
Adoon that stream my man did rove,And crossed the tearfu' sea.O whaur'll I get a leal true loveTo bide at hame wi' me?
The lang, lang years they winna pass;My lord is still awa'.Mayhap he loves a fairer lass—O wae the warst ava!
How sall I wile my lover hame?I'll drink the tearfu' seas!My red mou' to their briny faem,I'll drain them to the lees!
Then gin he comes na hameward soonHis ain true love to wed,I'll kilt my claes and don my shoonAnd cross the sea's dry bed.
"Oh in thine heart, my love, my lord,Mak' room, mak' room for me;Or at thy feet, by my true word,Thy lady's grave sall be!"
"A melancholy air, yet with somewhat of a pleasing sadness in its minor cadences," commented Doña Orosia when I had ceased. "Translate me the words, an your Spanish is sufficient."
"That it is not, I fear," was my reply, "and the task is beyond me for the further reason that the song is not even English, but in a dialect of the Scots. 'Tis only the plaint of a poor lady whose mind seems to have gone astray in her long waiting for a faithless lover"—and I gave her the sense of the verses as best I could.
"Nay," said the Spanish woman, with a singular smile. "She hath more wit than you credit her with. You mark me, the flood of a woman's tears will bear a man further than a mighty river, and her sighs waft him away more speedily than the strongest gale. Andonce he has gone, taking with him such a memory of her, 'twould be far easier for her to drink the ocean dry than to wile him home. For let a man but suspect that a womancouldbreak her heart for him, and he——is more than content to let her do it!"
She paused; but I made no answer, having none upon my tongue. Presently she added: "When once a woman has the folly to plead for herself, in that moment she murders Love; and every tear she sheds thereafter becomes another clod upon his grave. There remains but one thing for her to do——"
"Herself to die!" I murmured.
"Nay, child! To live and be revenged!" She turned a flushed face toward me; and, though the water stood in her eyes, they were hard and angry. "To be revenged! To plot and to scheme; to bide her time patiently; to study his heart's desire, and to foster it; and then——"
"And then?" I questioned softly, with little shivers of repulsion chilling me from head to foot.
"To rob him of it."
The words were spoken deliberately, in a voice that was resonant and slow. 'Twas not like the outburst of a moment's impulse—the sudden jangling of a harpstring rudelytouched; it was rather with the fateful emphasis of a clock striking the hour, heralded by a premonitory quiver—a gathering together of inward forces that had waited through long moments for this final utterance.
What manner of woman was this? I caught my breath with a little shuddering cry.
Doña Orosia turned quickly.
"Go! Leave me!" she cried. "Do you linger? Can I never be rid of you? Out of my sight! I would have a moment's respite from your great eyes and your white face. Go!"
And I obeyed her.
March, the 9th day.
Doña Orosia sent for me at noon to-day. There was news to tell, and she chose to be the one to tell it.
I found her in her favourite seat,—a great soft couch, covered with rich Moorish stuffs, and placed under the shadow of the balcony that overlooks the sunny garden. Up each of the light pillars from which spring the graceful arches that support this balcony climbs a mass of blooming vines that weave their delicate tendrils round the railing above and then trail downward again in festoons of swaying colour. Behind, in the luminous shadow, she lay coiled and half asleep; with a large fan of bronze turkey-feathers in one lazy hand, the other teasing the tawny hound which was stretched out at her feet.
She opened her great eyes as I came near.
"Ah! the little blue-eyed Margarita, the little saint who frowns when men worship at her shrine," she said slowly. "There is news for you. TheVirgen de la Mararrived lastnight from Habana, bringing the commands of the Council of Spain that the English prisoners here detained be liberated forthwith. For it seems that there has been presented to the Council, through our ambassador to the English Court, a memorial, which clearly proves that these persons have given no provocation to any subject of his Catholic Majesty, Charles the Second of Spain, and are therefore unlawfully imprisoned. How like you that?" The waving fan was suddenly stilled, and the brilliant eyes half veiled.
"Is this true?" I asked, for my heart misgave me.
She laughed. "It is true that theVirgen de la Marhas brought those orders to the Governor of San Augustin—and that my husband has received them."
"Will he obey them, señora?"
"Will who obey them?" she asked; and there was a gleam of white teeth under the red, curling lip. "My husband, or the Governor of San Augustin?"
"Are they not the same?"
"If you think so, little fool," she cried, half rising from her couch; "if you think so still, you would better go back to your chamber and pray yourself and your lover out of prison!"
I made no answer; I waited, without much hope, for what she would say next. My heart was very full, but I would not pleasure her by weeping.
"Child," she continued, sinking back among the cushions and speaking in a slow, impressive manner, "there aretwoGovernors in San Augustin—and they take their commands neither from the child-King, the Queen-mother, nor any of the Spanish Council. My husband is not one; he obeys them both by turns. His Excellency Don Pedro Melinza decrees that these orders from Spain shall be carried out except in the case of one Señor Rivers, who will be held here to answer for an unprovoked assault on one of his Majesty's subjects, whom he severely wounded; also for inciting others of his fellow prisoners to break their parole, and for various other offences against the peace of this garrison,—all of which charges Melinza will swear to be true."
"Is he so lost to honour? And will your husband uphold him in the lie?"
"Hear me out," she continued in the same tone. "Melinza also decides that these orders do not include the English señorita, Doña Margaret, whom he intends to detain here for——for reasons best known to himself; although the other Governor of San Augustindecrees"——she started up from her nest of pillows and continued in a wholly different tone: "Isay—Isay—that you shall quit this place with the other prisoners, and my husband dares not oppose me! I am sick of your white face and your saintly blue eyes; I am wearied to death of your company; but I swear Melinza shall not have you! Therefore go you must, and speedily."
"And leave my betrothed at Don Pedro's mercy?"
"What is that to me? Let him rot in his dungeon. I care not—so I am rid of your white face."
She shut her eyes angrily and thrust out her slippered foot at the sleeping hound. He lifted his great head and yawned; then, gathering up his huge bulk from the ground, he drew closer to his mistress's side and sniffed the air with solicitude, as though seeking a cause for her displeasure. There was a dish of cakes beside her, and she took one in her white fingers and threw it to the dog. He let it fall to the ground, and nosed it doubtfully, putting forth an experimental tongue,—till, finding it to his taste, he swallowed it at a gulp. His mistress laughed, and tossed him another, which disappeared in his great jaws. A third met the same fate; but the fourth she extendedto him in her pink palm, and, as he would have taken it she snatched the hand away. Again and again the poor brute strove to seize the proffered morsel, but each time it was lifted out of his reach; till finally his lithe body was launched upward, and he snapped both the cake and the hand that teased him.
'Twas the merest scratch, and truly the dog meant it not in anger; but on the instant Doña Orosia flushed crimson to her very brow, and, drawing up her silken skirt, she snatched a jewelled dagger from her garter and plunged it to the hilt in the poor beast's throat. The red blood spouted, and the huge body dropped in a tawny heap.
I rushed forward and lifted the great head; but the eyes were glazed.
"Señora!" I cried, "señora! the poor brute loved you!"
She spurned the limp body with a careless foot, saying,—
"So did—once—the man who gave it me."
Then she clapped her hands, and the negro servant came and at her command dragged away the carcass, wiped the bloody floor, and brought a basin of clear water and a linen cloth to bathe the scratch on her hand. When he had gone she made me bind it upwith her broidered kerchief and stamped her foot because I drew the knot over-tight.
"Doña Orosia," I said, when I had done it to her liking. "If all you care for, in this other matter, is to get rid of my white face, I pray you kill me with your dagger and ask your lord to let my love go free."
She looked up curiously. "Would you die for him?" she asked.
"Most willingly, an it please you to make my death his ransom."
Still she gazed at me and seemed strangely stirred. "Once I loved like that," she said in musing tones. "I will tell thee a tale, child, for I like not the reproach in those blue eyes. Five years ago, when I was as young as thou art now, I lived with my parents in Valencia, where the flowers are even sweeter and the skies bluer than here in sunny Florida. I had a lover in those days, who followed me like my shadow, and, in spite of my old duenna, found many a moment to pour his passion in my ears. He was a brave man and a handsome, and he won my heart from me. Though he had no great fortune I would have wed him willingly and followed him over land and sea. I never doubted him for a day; and when he came to my father's house with an old nobleman, his uncle and the head of hisfamily, I was well content; for my mother told me they had asked for my hand and it had been promised. But when my father called me in at last to see my future husband, it was the old man who met me with a simper on his wrinkled face. I turned to the nephew; but he was gazing out of the window——"
She broke off with a fierce laugh and then added bitterly,—"And so I came to marry my husband, the Governor of San Augustin!"
"The other was Don Pedro?"
"Has thy baby wit compassed that much? Yes, the other was Melinza."
"But if you once loved him why should there be hate between you now?"
"Why? thou little fool! Why?"—she put out one hand and drew me closer, so that she could look deep into my eyes. "Why does a woman ever hate a man? Canst tell me that?"
We gazed at each other so until I saw—I scarce know what I saw! My head swam, and of a sudden it came over me that when the angels fell from heaven there must have been an awful beauty in their eyes!
I awokethis morning with a sense of horror haunting me,—and then I recalled the scene of yesterday and the dumb appeal in the eyes of the dying hound. The story the Spanish woman had told me of her own past pleaded nothing in excuse. Hatred and cruelty seemed strange fruit for love to bear.
I thought of my own ill fortunes, and I said within me: True Love sits at the door of the heart to guard it from all evil passions. Loss and Pain may enter in, and Sorrow bear them company; but Revenge and Cruelty, Untruth, and all their evil kin, must hide their shamed faces and pass by!
Secure in the thought of the pure affection that reigned in my own bosom, I went forth and met Temptation, and straightway fell from the high path in which I believed my feet to be so surely fixed!
Doña Orosia seemed to be in a strangely gentle mood.
"Child, how pale thy face is! Didst thou not lie awake all night? Deny it not, 'tis writ most plainly in the dark shadows round thosegreat blue eyes. Come, rest here beside me"—and she drew me down upon the couch and slipped a soft pillow under my head.
I was fairly dumfounded at this unwonted courtesy, and could find no words to meet it with. But she appeared unconscious of my silence and continued speaking.
"'Tis the thought of the English lover that robs thee of sleep, Margarita mia! Thou wouldst give thy very life to procure his freedom; is it not so? Would any task be too hard for thee with this end in view?"
I could not answer; I clasped my hands and looked at her in silence.
"I thought as much," she said, smiling, and laid a gentle finger on my cheek.
"Oh, señora, you will aid me to save him! You will plead with the Governor—you will set him free?"
She drew back coldly. "You ask too much. I have told you that there are two Governors in San Augustin—I divide the honours with Melinza; but I plead with him for naught."
I turned away to hide the quivering of my lip.
"Listen to me," she added more kindly. "Between Pedro Melinza and Orosia de Colis there is at present an armed peace; sinceeach holds a hostage. Not that I care anything for the Englishman, but my husband is undesirous of defying the commands of the Council. Although he bears no love to your nation, he maintains that it is not the policy of our government, at present, to ignore openly the friendly relations that are supposed to exist between the Crowns of England and of Spain. It seems that the duplicate of the Council's orders has been sent to the Governor of your new settlement on this coast; and if he sends hither to demand the delivery of the prisoners, Señor de Colis would rather choose to yield up all, than to risk a reprimand from the authorities at home.
"Dost thou understand all this? Well, let us now see the reverse of the picture.
"Melinza sets his own desires in the scale, and they outweigh all politic scruples. He has sworn that so long as I stand between him and you, so long will Señor Rivers remain in the castle dungeon,—unless Death steps kindly in to set your lover free."
A little sob broke in my throat at these cruel words. Doña Orosia laid her hand on mine.
"Poor little one!" she said.
"You pity me, señora! What is your pity worth?" I demanded, forcing back the tears.
"I have a way of escape to offer," she answered softly.
"Escape for him? Or for me?"
"For both. Now listen! There is but one way to relax Melinza's hold on Señor Rivers. He would exchange him willingly for you."
"Better for us both to die!" I exclaimed indignantly.
"I would sooner kill you with my own hands than give you up to him," said Doña Orosia, with a cold smile.
"Then what do you mean, señora?"
"I mean, Margarita mia, that you should feign a tenderness for him and let him think that it is I who would keep two loving souls apart."
"What! when I have shown him naught but dislike in all these months? He could never be so witless as to believe in such a sudden transformation."
"Such is the vanity of man," said Doña Orosia, "that he would find it easier to believe that you had feigned hatred all this while from fear of me, than to doubt that you had eventually fallen a victim to his fascinations."
"What would it advantage me if I did deceive him?"
"He would then cease to oppose the liberation of all the other prisoners."
"But what of my fate, señora?"
"Leave that in my hands, little one,—I am not powerless. I give thee my word he shall never have thee. At the last moment we shall undeceive him"—and she laughed a low laugh of triumph.
I glanced up quickly.
"So!" I exclaimed. "This will be your revenge! And you would bribe me, with my dear love's freedom, to act a part in it! To lie for you; to play at love where I feel only loathing; to sully my lips with feigned caresses; and to make a mockery of the holiest thing in life!"
"Is your Englishman not worth some sacrifice?" she asked, with lifted brows.
What could I say? I left her. I hastened to my little room, shut fast the door, and bolted it on the inner side. Then I knelt at the barred window and looked out at the sunlight and the sea.
The blue waves danced happily, and the fresh wind kissed the sparkling ripples till the foam curled over them—as white lids droop coyly over laughing eyes. Two snowy gulls dipped and soared, flashing now against the blue sky—now into the blue sea. I gazed at their white wings—and thought of all the vain prayers I had sent up to Heaven.
And then the dark hour of my life closed down on me.
I bethought me of my father, that loyal gentleman whose only fault was that he served his Prince too well,—a Prince whose gratitude had never prompted him to inquire concerning that servant's fate, or to offer a word of consolation to the wife who had lost her all. I bethought me of my young mother, of her white, tear-stained face, of the long hours she had spent upon her knees, and how at last she prayed: "Lord! only to know that he is dead!"—yet she died ignorant.
Then did the devil come to me and whisper: "Of what use is it to have patience and faith? Does thy God bear thee in mind—or is his memory like that of the Prince thy father served? Dost thou still believe that He doeth all things well, and is there still trust in thy heart? Come, make friends of those who would aid thee—never mind a little lie! Wouldst be happy? Wouldst save thy dear love? Then cease thy vain prayers and take thy fate in thine own hands."
I rose up from my knees and looked out again upon the laughing waters,—I would do this evil thing that good might come. I would act a lying part, and soil my soul, so that I and my dear love might win freedomand happiness. But I would pray no more—for I could not ask God's blessing on a lie.
Then I went slowly back to where my temptress waited.
"Doña Orosia," I said, "I take your offer. I am young—I would be happy; and you—you would be revenged! I am not the little fool you think me: I know you too well to believe that you would aid me out of love; I laugh at your pity; but I trust your hate!"
"Bueno," she said. "It is enough. We understand one another,—but I must teach thee the part, or thou wilt fail."
"I am not so simple, señora, I can feign love—for love's sake."
"Yet I would have thee set round with thorns, my sweet. The rose that is too easy plucked is not worth wearing. And do thou give only promises and never fulfil them,—I'd baulk him of every kiss he thinks to win!"
A daywent by, and though I had become even letter-perfect in my new rôle I had not the chance to play it to my audience; but it came at last.
It was in the long, dreamy hour of the early afternoon, when sleep comes easiest. Doña Orosia had ordered her couch to be placed in the shadiest part of the breezy garden, close against the gray stone wall. Designedly she chose the corner nearest the iron gate, through which we could command a portion of the sunny street; and here she lay and made me sing to her all the songs I knew, the while she dozed and waked again, and whiles teased her parrot into uttering discordant cries until for very anger I would sing no more.
Suddenly she laid aside her petulance, and with a quick, imperious gesture bade me take up the lute again; then, falling back among her pillows, she closed her eyes and let her bosom rise and fall with the gentle breathings of a sleeping child.
I hesitated in some astonishment; but again the sharp command hissed from her softly parted lips,—
"Sing, little fool!—Melinza passes!"
I touched the lute with shaking fingers and lifted my trembling voice. The notes stuck in my throat and came forth huskily at first; but then I thought on my dear love in his hateful prison, and I sung as I had never sung before.
Above the gray wall I saw Don Pedro's plumed hat passing by. He reached the gate and halted, gazing in with eager eyes. His quick glance compassed the green nook, passed over the sleeping figure, and fixed itself upon my face.
The song died away; I leaned forward, smiling, and laid a warning finger on my lip.
He made me a bow so courtly that the feather in his laced hat swept the ground.
"So, señorita, the caged bird can sing?"
"When her jailer wills it so, Don Pedro," I said softly, and smiled—and sighed—and gave a half-fearful glance over my shoulder; then added, in a lower whisper: "And when she wills otherwise, I must be silent."
"How, would she even keep a lock upon your lips?"
"Upon my lips—and my eyes also. Indeed,my very brows are under her jurisdiction, and are oft constrained to frown, against their will!"
"So!" he exclaimed; and I saw a sweet doubt creep over his face. "Must I place to her account the many frowns you have bestowed on me?"
"Si, señor—and add to those some others that would not be coerced."
The fire in his black eyes frightened me not a little as he whispered:
"If that be true, then grant me the rose in your bosom, lady!"
I lifted a trembling hand to the flower, and shot a frightened glance at the señora's quivering lashes.
"Oh! I dare not!" I murmured, and let my hand fall against the lute upon my knee. The jangling strings roused the pretended sleeper from her dreams.
She half rose, and, seizing a pillow from her couch, hurled it at me, saying angrily: "Here is for such awkwardness!"
The soft missile failed of its proper mark; but found another in the green parrot, who was dangling, head downward, from his perch; and there was an angry squawk from the insulted bird.
I threw a timorous glance toward the gateway,motioning the intruder away. He would have lingered, being to all appearances greatly angered at the discourteous treatment of my lady warder; but prudence prevailed, and he fell back out of sight, with a hand upon his heart, protesting dumbly.
The comedy had just begun. Now it must be played through to the end.
It is a strange thing to see the zest with which my gentle jailer prepares, each day, an ambush for the unwary foe, and how he always falls into the trap—to be assailed by me with smiles, and soft complaints, piteous appeals for sympathy, and shy admissions of my tender friendship; which are always cut short by some well-contrived interruption or the sudden appearance of Doña Orosia on the scene. Though only a week has passed, already Don Pedro would take oath that I love him well.
Early this morning I heard him underneath my window; and I was right glad of the chance to smile on him from behind the protecting bars. This meeting had not been of Doña Orosia's contriving, so I thought I would use it for my own ends.
I vowed to him that I was unhappy—which was true. I protested that I was sick with longing for freedom—and that, too, was no lie.But to that I added a whole tissue of falsehood, declaring that I had never drawn a free breath since I came into the world; that my uncle had been a tyrant, and the man to whom he had betrothed me was jealous and exacting; that I had been brought across the seas against my will; and that I dreaded the hardships of life in this new country. I said I had no wish to rejoin the English settlers, and I denied, with tears, any partiality for my dear love. Heaven forgive me! but I professed I loved Don Pedro better than any man I had ever seen, and I entreated him to take me away from these barbarous shores.
I had not thought that I could move him, yet, strange to say, the man seemed touched. I wondered as I listened to him, for I had thought him all bad, and deemed his passion but a passing fancy. He was speaking now of Habana, a city of some refinement, where, as his wife, I would enjoy the companionship of other ladies of my own station.
"I'd never suffer thee to live here, my fairest lady, where yon dark devil of a woman could vent her spite on thee!" he whispered softly; and my conscience smote me, for I was playing with a man's heart, of flesh and blood.
But I bethought me, if there was in truth any good in that heart, I would dare appeal toit; for I mistrusted that at any time Doña Orosia would break her promised word.
"Truly, Don Pedro, I would go gladly, for I hate the very sight of these walls; but—if you love me—I would crave of your graciousness another boon. Set free the English gentleman who was my promised husband, and send him, with the other prisoners, back to his friends."
There was no answer, and I feared I had overstepped the mark; but I dared further.
"Señor de Melinza," I said, "it is true that I come of a race for which you have no love, and that I hold a creed which you condemn; nevertheless it must be remembered that we have our own code of chivalry, and there have lived and died in England as brave knights and true as even your valiant Cid. I would not have the man I am to wed guilty of an unknightly act. Therefore be generous. You have been mutually wounded; but it was in fair duello,"—this I said feigning ignorance of the coward blow that so nearly reached my dear love's heart,—"and now, Don Pedro, it would be the more honourable to set free the countryman of your promised bride and send him in safety to his friends."
"Señorita," said the Spaniard,—and there was a cloud upon his brow,—"I would youhad asked me any boon but this. Nevertheless I give you my knightly word that the man shall go, and go unharmed."
"I thank you, Don Pedro," I said, and fought down the cry of joy that struggled to my lips. Then, because I could find no other words, and feared to fail in the part I had to play, I took Dame Barbara's scissors and cut off a long lock of my yellow hair, bound it with riband, and threw it down to him as guerdon for the favour he had granted me.
This noon, when I joined the Governor's wife as usual under the vine-hung balcony, I boasted cheerfully of the promise I had wrung from Melinza; and she demanded at once to hear all that had passed between us,—then called me a fool for my pains!
"Little marplot! Had you shown less concern for the fate of your Englishman, it would have been vastly better. You do but cast obstacles in my way. There is nothing for me to do now but hotly to oppose his leaving! If needs must I will pretend a liking for the man myself, and vow to hold him as my guest yet a while longer, for the sake of his pretty wit and his gallant bearing,—any device to throw dust in their eyes, so that we seem not to be of the same minds and putting up the selfsame plea. Oh! little saint with the blue eyes, yourmétieris not diplomacy!"
"In sooth, señora, till you first taught me to dissemble I was unlessoned in the art."
She laughed then, and said that when I had less faith in others I could more easily deceive.
"If the little Margarita believed Melinza's pretty fable about Habana, and the excellent company there which hiswifewould enjoy, 'tis no wonder that she made a tangle of her own little web."
"But Doña Orosia, think you he would deal unfairly with me? His words rang so true—even a bad man may love honestly! And if I trifle with the one saving virtue in his heart, will it not be a grievous sin?"
The mocking smile died out of the Spaniard's eyes and left them fathomless and sombre.
I felt as one who—looking into an open window, and seeing the light of a taper glancing and flickering within—draws back abashed, when suddenly the flame is quenched, and only the hollow dark stares back at his blinded gaze.
"If he loves you," she said slowly, "it is but as he has loved before, more times than one. He would skim the cream of passion, brush the dew from the flower, crush the first sweetness from the myrtle-blooms,—and leave the rest. You child, what do you know of men? It is only the unattainable that is worthstriving for. There is much of the brute beast in their passions. Did you mark, the other day, how the dead hound turned a scornful nozzle to the first sweet morsel that I pressed on his acceptance? But afterward, the fear of losing it made him eager to the leaping-point. Just so I shall trick his master—shall let him see thee,almostgrasp and taste; then, when the moment of mad longing comes, I'll stab him with the final loss of thee! Only so can I arouse a desire that will outlive a day; for I know men's hearts to the core, thou blue-eyed babe!"
"Señora," I cried, stung by her scornful words, "I cannot say I know men's hearts; but I do know the heart of one true gentleman; and I believe, when he had won from me the betrothal kiss, I was not less desirable in his eyes!"
"So you believe," she said, and shook her head. "Bueno, go on believing—while you can. Woman's faith in man's fealty lives just so long——" and she bent forward from her couch, plucked a fragile blossom from the swaying vines, and cast it under foot.
I would have spoken again of my trust in the leal true heart that trusted me; but I saw the trembling of the laces on her bosom, I saw the dark eyes growing more angerful, anda slow crimson rising in the rich cheek. She was always "studying her revenge,"—this beautiful, unhappy woman, "keeping her wounds green which otherwise might heal and do well."
As I watched her a great pity overcame me, so that I held my peace.
The20th of March—a day never to be forgot!
I have seen Mr. Rivers. It is the first time since that night—nine months ago. I have seen him and spoken with him in the presence of Melinza, Doña Orosia, and the Governor.
Whatever may befall us now, nothing can take away the memory of this last hour. If ever we leave these walls together and taste freedom again, it will have been dearly bought. A maid's truth tarnished, and the brave heart of a most loyal gentleman robbed of its faith! Dear God, what a price to pay!
'Twas noon when Doña Orosia came herself to fetch me.
"There is some deviltry afoot," she said. "I cannot fathom it as yet; but, as you hope for freedom for yourself and your Englishman, don't fail to play your part to the end. Come quickly! Melinza demands to see you, and the Governor permits it. Don't blame me, child—I can do nothing to prevent it. But, I warn you, act the part, whatever it may cost you."
I followed her, as in a dream, along the corridor, into the room where the old Governor sat in his arm-chair beside a carved table, whereon were a decanter of wine, glasses half drained, and a litter of playing-cards. He drummed upon the table with his withered fingers, and looked uneasily, first at his wife's flushed face as she entered the door, and then at the determined countenance of Melinza, who was standing before the heavy arras which divided that room from another in the rear.
"Doña Margarita," said the Governor, clearing his throat nervously, "is it so that you are detained within my house against your will?"
"Your Excellency," I began, and was thankful I could speak truth, "I, and all the other English, have been held here in San Augustin for many a long month against our will."
"Without the orders of the Spanish Council I could not liberate you, señorita; though now we purpose to do so, having authority. But concerning yourself—Melinza assures me that you do not desire to be sent with your countrymen."
I felt my heart grow cold. Must I still cling to the lie? I looked at Doña Orosia, whose black eyes flashed a warning.
"That is true, Señor de Colis," I said, and my voice sounded far off and strange.
"You would wish to remain here as my guest and companion, Margarita," said the Governor's wife in vehement tones.
I looked at her in wonder. What did they desire between them? My head swam, and I would have said Yes to her also; but her black eyes menaced me again. I drew a deep breath and shook my head. "No, please your Excellency."
Melinza smiled a slow triumphant smile. "Doña Orosia is unfortunate. I trust I shall be more successful. You would rather go to Habana asmycompanion,—is it not so, Margarita mia?"—and he stepped forward and held forth his hand to me.
One day in the early spring Doña Orosia had called me to see a new pet which had been brought to her, a young crocodile, loathsome and hideous; and she had forced me to touch the tethered monster as it crawled, the length of its chain, over the floor. I do remember the cold disgust I felt at the horrid contact; but it was as naught to the feeling that passed over me when I let the Spaniard take my hand.
He drew me toward him, laughing softly. "Who doubts that the lady goes willingly?" and lifted his voice with a defiant question in its ringing tones.
"I do, señor!"—and it was my dear lovewho pushed aside the arras and came forward into the room,—my dear love, wasted by fever and long imprisonment, white and gaunt and spectral, yet bearing himself with all his olden dignity.
The Spaniard turned to meet him, holding me still within the circle of his arm. I gave one final glance at the Governor's wife and read my cue. After that I could see nothing but my love's white face.
"Have I lied to you, Señor Englishman? Do you believe, now, that I hold that golden tress as a pledge of future favours? The lady on whose faith you were ready to stake your soul is here to answer for herself, and she has thrown in her lot with me—with me, señor."
"Margaret—Margaret!" cried my dear love, "tell him he lies, sweetheart!"
I opened my lips, but the words died on my tongue. Again my poor love cried to me, holding out his arms. I saw his white face grow paler still, and he swayed uncertainly where he stood. Then, gathering all his strength, he threw himself upon the Spaniard and would have torn us apart, had not his weak limbs given way, so that he fell prone upon the floor.
Melinza's hand went to his sword; he drew the blade and held it to my dear love's throat.
"SPARE THE MAN, DON PEDRO! I LIKE NOT THE SIGHT OF BLOOD."—Page 125.
At last my voice came back to me; I laid my hand upon the Spaniard's arm. "Spare the man, Don Pedro! I like not the sight of blood!"
Then I saw mortal agony in a brave man's eyes. He made no move to rise, but lay there at my feet and looked at me.
"Margaret Tudor," he said, "do you love me still?"
I looked down at him. If I spoke truth, Melinza's blade would soon cut short his hearing of it. A wild laugh rose in my throat; I could not hold it back, and it rang out, merrily mad, in the silent room.
"Señores," I said, "Señores, I love a brave man, not a coward!" and that was truth, though none in that room read me aright, save Doña Orosia.
The man at my side laughed with me, and he at my feet gave me one look and swooned away.
Melinza sheathed his sword, saying, "Your Excellency, the prisoner appears convinced; so you can scarce doubt the evidence yourself."
The Governor cleared his throat again, and glanced helplessly toward his wife. She stepped forward with scornful composure and took my arm.
"Things are come to a pretty pass, Señor de Colis, when Don Pedro brings his prisoners under this roof and your wife is made a witness to a brawl. I crave your leave to withdraw; and I take this girl with me till the question of her guardianship is settled." Then, still holding me by the arm, she left the room; and neither of the two men ventured to stop our progress.
Arrived at my chamber Doña Orosia opened the door and thrust me in, bidding me draw the bolt securely.
I was left alone with my thoughts. Such thoughts as they are! I cannot weep; my eyes are hot and dry. There is no grief like unto this. Oh, my mother! when your beloved clasped you to his heart in that last farewell, there were between you thoughts of parting, of bodily pains to be borne, of scourgings and fetters,—aye, and of death. But what were those compared with what I have to bear, who am humbled in the sight of my dear love?
Afterwriting these words I cast aside my pen, and, throwing myself upon the bed, buried my face in the pillow. I could feel the drumming pulses in my ears, and my heart swelled till it was like to burst within my bosom. Though I pressed my hot fingers against my close-shut eyes, I still could see my poor love's white, set face, the great hollows in his bearded cheeks, the blue veins on his thin temples, and the large eyes, one moment all love-lighted, the next, stricken with horror at the sight of my unfaith.
How long I lay there I can scarcely tell. It was many hours after noon when I heard heavy steps without my door, which suddenly began to shake as though one beat upon it with frantic hands.
"Who is there?" I cried, lifting my head.
"Oh! Mistress Margaret! a God's mercy—undo the door!"
I drew the bolt in haste, and Dame Barbara burst in and dropped down, weeping, at my feet.
"Lord love ye, Mistress Margaret! Lordhelp us both this day! They have sent off all our men to meet the blessed English ship—and we two poor women left behind!"
I could not think it true. I seized the weeping dame by her heaving shoulders and fairly dragged her to her feet, demanding what proof she had that this was so. She pointed dumbly to the window, and fell a-sobbing louder than before.
Then I looked out.
TheCarolinafrigate stood off the bar of Matanzas Bay, and over the waves, in the direction of the frigate, went a small boat impelled by the brawny arms of six swarthy Spaniards. With them were the English prisoners: I saw the honest face of Captain Baulk, and next him worthy Master Collins; also the three seamen of the Barbadian sloop; and another, whom I did not know, but guessed to be the second of the two unlucky messengers; and—in the midst of all—my dear love.
He lay full length, his white face resting against the good captain's knees; and my first thought was one of terror lest he was dead: but I saw him lift himself, and give one long look at the castle walls, then fall back as before—and I knew, in that moment, he put me from his heart for ever.
They were gone, all gone. Doña Orosiahad played me false—God had turned His face from me—and the man I loved would never love me more.
I turned away from the window to the weeping dame, and I laughed, laughed again as I had done in the face of my dear love that very morn.
"The piece is near ended, dame," I said. "'Tis almost time to prayGod save His Majestyand draw the curtain. But what strange tricks does Fate play sometimes with her helpless puppets! She did cast us, long ago, for a lightsome comedy, and lo! 'tis to be a tragedy instead! Think you, dear Barbara, that death would come easier by means of yonder bed-cord, or of those great scissors dangling at thy waist? Or, perhaps, if thou couldst play Othello to my Desdemona, it might seem a gentler prelude to the grave. How heavy is a lie, good dame? Think you it would drag a soul to hell? If so, I need not to go alone; for if I lied to Melinza, he also lied to me—and Doña Orosia also"—then a strong shudder shook my frame. "Barbara, Barbara, must I e'en have their company for all eternity?"
She ran to me, good soul, and hushed me like a child to her ample bosom.
"Lord help ye, dear lamb! And He will—He will!"I heard her say over and over; then everything turned dark before my eyes, and I thought death had come to me indeed.
When consciousness returned I lay upon my bed in a gray twilight, and beside me were Dame Barbara and the Governor's wife.
As my eyes fell upon Doña Orosia, I cried out bitterly that I had been a fool to trust even to her hate; for now she had grown weary of her revenge, and would discard her tool without paying the price for it.
She covered my mouth with her hand, laughing shortly.
"Melinza thinks he has been too sharp for me. He despatched the prisoners in great haste to the English ship without my knowledge. I went to him just now and demanded to know if he dared to send away Señor Rivers without leave from me.
"'Aye,' he said, and bowed to me. 'Since Doña Orosia desired for some reason to detain him here, I thought it best to be rid of him at once; but the girl remains.'
"'The girl remains in my guardianship,' said I.
"'Until to-morrow,' Melinza answered. 'To-morrow theVirgen de la Marreturns to Habana, and with her go the English girl and your humble servant.'
"'The Governor,' I cried, 'will not permit it!'
"'Will he not? Ask him,' said Melinza, 'ask his Excellency the Governor of San Augustin!' Then he laughed at me—Dios!he laughed at me!"
She bit her red lip at the remembrance, and clenched her white hands.
"And did you ask the Governor, señora?"
She nodded fiercely. "The old dotard! He did but shrug his shoulders and offer me a diamond necklace in exchange for my pretty puppet of a plaything. It is plain Melinza has some hold upon him, what it is I cannot guess; but it is stronger than my wishes. He would sooner brave my anger than oppose his nephew's schemes."
I watched the dark shadow settling on her brow, and I thought all hope was over.
"Doña Orosia," I said at last, "will you lend me your dagger?"
"Not yet, child—not unless there is no other way to thwart them both. Look—" she said, and threw a purse of gold pieces on the bed beside me. "This is your purchase money, and 'twill serve to buy assistance. When I could make no better terms, I was forced to take this and a kiss to boot—Pah!" and she rubbed her cheek. "To-morrow,when the tide is full, theVirgen de la Marwill leave the harbour. Before then I must contrive your escape."
"And Barbara's," I added, for I could see the poor dame was in deep anxiety.
Doña Orosia stared. "Upon my soul, we had all forgotten the old woman. She might have gone well enough with the other prisoners; but how am I to smuggletwowomen from the town?"
Then I besought her not to separate me from the dame, to whom I clung as my last friend; and after a time she yielded me a grudging promise and left me, bidding me make ready for the evening meal, at which I must appear in order not to arouse the Governor's suspicions.
My hands were cold and trembling; but with Barbara's aid I decked me out in one of the gay gowns which had been given me by my protectress, and, taking up a fan—with which I had learned the Spanish trick of screening my face upon occasion—I joined the Governor and his beautiful spouse in the brightly lightedcomedor, where covers at table were laid for three. I was thankful for Melinza's absence, for to play at love-making that night would have been beyond my powers.
At first I could eat nothing; but an urgentglance from Doña Orosia, and the thought of what need there would be for all my strength prompted me to force some morsels, in spite of the convulsive swelling of my throat. I made shift, also, to answer when addressed by either host or hostess; but the Governor was in no great spirits himself and seemed to stand in some awe of his lady's frown.
Suddenly, without the door, sounded voices in altercation, and a servant entered, protesting with many apologies that there was a reverend father without who demanded to see his Excellency at once on a matter that would brook no delay.
The Governor leaned back in his chair with an air of great annoyance; but Doña Orosia said quickly, "Bid the father enter."
A tall form in a friar's dark habit appeared on the threshold. I recognized, under the cowl, the thin, sallow face and the sombre eyes. I had seen them at the door of the chapel in the castle courtyard on the night of our arrival, and many times since. They belonged to Padre Felipe, the confessor of the Governor's wife, and her adviser, I believed, in affairs temporal as well as spiritual. Something told me he had come hither at her bidding, and I glanced at her for confirmation; but Doña Orosia leaned with one elbow on thetable, her chin upon her white hand, the other rounded arm outstretched with an almond in the slim fingers for the delectation of the green parrot on his perch beside her. Not a flicker of interest was visible on her beautiful, sullen face; so I turned away with some disappointment to hear what the padre was saying.
His voice was low-pitched and husky, and I could scarce distinguish what he said, save that it concerned someone who was ill—nay,dead, it seemed, and needing instant burial.
The Governor listened with a gathering scowl upon his face, till suddenly he started up with such haste that his chair fell backward with a noisy clatter.
"Santa Maria!Dead of the black vomit? And you come hither with the vile contagion clinging to your very garments!"
"Nay," said the friar's deep, hollow voice, as he lifted a reassuring hand. "I have changed my robes. You and yours are in no danger, my son."
"In no danger!" repeated the Governor, his face becoming purple and his voice choked; "no danger, when the foul carcass lies unburied, tainting the very air with death! Throw it over in the sea—nay, set fire to the miserable hut in which it lies, and let all be consumed together!"
"Who is it that is dead?" asked Doña Orosia. She had risen, and stood with one hand holding back her skirts, her full, red upper lip slightly drawn, and her delicate nostrils dilated, as though the very mention of the loathed disease filled her with disgust.
"A wretched half-breed boy, some thieving member of the padre's flock," exclaimed the Governor impatiently. "Set fire to the hut, I say!"
But Doña Orosia interrupted once again. "Padre, what is it that you desire?"
The sombre eyes were turned on her for the first time. "The boy was a Christian, my daughter, and I would give him Christian burial."
"Surely," said Doña Orosia. "What is to prevent?"
"Would you spread the infection through the town?" exclaimed the Governor, white with fear.
"Nay," said the friar, "I ask but a permit to take the body without the gates. None but I and a few of my followers need be exposed to danger. Let a bell be rung before us, to warn all in the streets to stand away; and we will carry a vessel of strong incense before the bier. Those who go out with me, I pledge you my word, shall notreturn for some days till they are free of all taint themselves."
"My plan is better,—to burn hut, corpse, and all," replied the Governor. But Padre Felipe turned on him fiercely.
"How shall I keep my hold upon my people, and they retain their faith in consecrated things, if you treat a Christian's body as you would the carcass of a dog?"
"As you will," the Governor exclaimed; and, throwing himself into a chair, he called for pen and paper. "Here," he added presently, "deliver this to Don Pedro de Melinza, and bid him warn the sentries at the gate. Say, furthermore, that if any one in the town comes within twenty paces of the bier, out of the gate he shall go also."
The friar received the permit silently, lifted his hand in benediction, and left the apartment.
As my glance returned from the doorway it met that of Doña Orosia, and in hers there was a passing flash of triumph. Soon after, she rose, and together we withdrew. I felt her hand upon my arm tighten convulsively; but I walked on with the same sense of unreality that had oppressed me all the day.
When we reached my chamber she bade me change my dress again for something darkand warm; for the night air was damp and chill. As I did so I slipped within my bosom the roll of closely written pages containing these annals of my prisonment. Then I asked for Barbara, and Doña Orosia quietly replied,—
"She has gone upon an errand and will join us in due time." Then she threw a mantle over my head, wrapped herself in another, and led me out into the garden.
Itwas a moonless night, and a haze of cloud obscured the stars. We passed silently under the vine-covered arbour, across the garden, to the gateway. Into the heavy lock Doña Orosia slipped a great key; it turned easily, the door swung open, and we stepped out. Locking it once more, my companion took my arm and hurried me along the dark, deserted street. We turned a corner, came upon an open square, and paused beside a huge palmetto that grew near the centre. I heard the crisp rustle of its leaves in the night wind, and I shivered with a nameless dread.
Then, through the darkness, two dim forms approached us. My heart beat quickly, and I drew the mantle closer round my face; but one of them proved to be the friar, the other, my dear, dear Barbara. I sprang to meet her with a quick cry; but Doña Orosia laid a hand upon my lips and hurried me on. Padre Felipe now led the way, and we followed him for some moments more until he paused before a low doorway and motioned us to enter.
"Señora," I whispered, "why do you come?I have no fear of the disease, but why should you needlessly expose yourself?"
"Little fool," she answered, pushing me gently on, "there is no fever, no contagion here."
Wondering still, I entered the narrow passage, and beyond it a dimly lighted room.
On the floor lay a long wooden stretcher covered with hide; at its foot and head, fixed each in a rude socket, were two candles, still unlighted. A brass pot with long chains, and a heap of dark cloth, lay upon the floor; there was also a rough table on which stood a bottle of water and a loaf of bread; otherwise, except for a dim lamp upon the wall, the room was empty. Doña Orosia looked around, with quick eyes taking in every detail; then she turned to Padre Felipe.
"Can you trust the bearers?"
He bowed his head.
"Then the only difficulty is this old woman. Better to leave her behind."
But again I pleaded most earnestly; and presently the friar left the room and returned soon after with a dingy cloak, with which he enveloped the poor dame from head to foot.
"Let her follow behind," he said, "and if there is no trouble she may pass out with us." He charged her, then, to keep her face hiddenand to stand well away from the light of the candles.
After that there was a pause, and the Spanish woman and the friar looked at each other.
"See you do not fail!" she said.
"And remember your word," he replied.
"A solid silver service for the new mission chapel at San Juan,—I swear it," was the quick response; "that is, if you succeed."
The friar folded his arms silently.
"Nay, then, in any case! only do your utmost," whispered Doña Orosia hurriedly.
"The result is as God wills it," said Padre Felipe calmly, and, pointing to the stretcher, he bade me lie down upon it. I did so, trembling in every limb, and he would have covered me over with the wrappings when the Governor's wife pushed him aside, knelt down herself, and slipped into my hand a little dagger, whispering:
"In case you are discovered."
I hid it in my bosom, thanking her. "Farewell, señora," I said, with tears, "you have been kind to me and I am very grateful. Whether or not I win freedom and friends, I believe you have done your utmost for me. I cannot think"—and I lifted my head close to hers and whispered—"I cannot think it is for revenge alone. There must be some pity prompting it."
"Thou little foolish one," she said, and laughed, pushing me back upon the bier. Then suddenly I felt a hot tear drop upon my forehead. She stooped lower and kissed me on the cheek.
I gave a little cry and would have risen again; but she drew the dark coverings over me and I could see no longer. As I felt her soft hands tucking me in, as a mother would her babe, I could only weep silently and pray God bless her.
A pungent smoke of something burning filled the room and reached me even through the coverings. I heard the padre lighting the tapers at my head and feet. After a time the stretcher on which I lay was lifted up and carried, foot foremost, from the room—out of the passage and into the street. I heard the feet of my bearers pattering on the ground as we moved onward at a swinging pace; I was conscious of the heavy smoke of burning incense that enveloped us; I heard the sound of a bell going before me, and a voice raised in a steady cry of warning; but I could see nothing save a faint radiance through the wrappings, where the candles burned.
After a time there was a halt and I heard voices in dispute. My fingers closed around the hilt of the señora's dagger. If death mustcome, so be it! I thought, and felt no fear, only regret that my dear love could never understand, unless the spirit that quivered so wildly within my still and shrouded form could speed to him in the first moment of its freedom and whisper the truth to his heart!
Another voice joined in. It was Melinza's own.
"Stand back!" he called loudly. "Out of the way, slaves! Who dares dispute the orders of his Excellency? If a man goes within twenty paces of that leprous crew he may follow them to perdition; but there'll be no longer any room for him within these walls!"
A murmur rose, and died away in the distance. We moved on once more. Then sounded the rattling clang of iron bars—but it came from behind us. The bell had ceased to ring; but as we moved slowly on I heard the voice of the padre chanting in a low and solemn key. Then utter silence fell, except the unshod footfall of my bearers and a murmur as of night-winds in the trees. Suddenly an owl hooted overhead, and then——I must have fainted.
I thought I was again in the Barbadian sloop, during the storm. Bound in my narrowberth I rocked and swayed, while overhead the boisterous wind howled in the rigging. The strained timbers creaked and groaned, and now and then sounded the sharp snapping of some frail spar. A woman's sobbing reached me through it all,—the low, gasping sobs of one whose breath is spent. I pushed back the covers and looked around me.
It was gray dawn in the forest. Through the tossing branches overhead I saw the pale clouds scudding beneath an angry heaven. I looked toward my feet and perceived the back of a strange man with dark head, bent shoulders, and bare brown arms grasping the sides of my litter. Some one was at my head also; turning quickly, I met his eyes looking into mine: it was Padre Felipe. I sat up, with a sudden gasp.
"Barbara!" I cried, "where are you, Barbara?"
When only the weak sobs answered me I threw myself from the litter to the ground, falling in an impotent heap with my feet entangled in the wrappings. But I caught sight of my good dame staggering on behind, half dragged, half carried by two Indian youths. Her clothing was torn and draggled, her face pitiably scratched, while great tears chased each other down her wrinkled cheeks.
The litter had stopped. Padre Felipe helped me to my feet; but I turned from him and threw my arms around Barbara's neck. She clung to me desperately, her breath catching and her voice broken as she tried to speak.
The friar took her by the shoulder roughly.
"She is worn out with tramping through the woods all night. It is no wonder! But 'twas her own doing, for she would come; now she must keep up or be left behind. We must reach shelter before the storm breaks in earnest, for it will be no light one."
A heavier gust passed while he was speaking; there was a louder moan in the tree-tops, and a broken branch crashed down at our very feet.
"Have we much farther to go?" I asked. He shook his head.
"About a league, perhaps?"
"Not more," was his reply.
"Then put the poor dame in the litter, and I will walk."
He looked intently at me. "Can you do it?"
"Better than she. I feel faint here," I added, laying my hand upon my bosom, "but my limbs are young and strong and unwearied."
"You want food," was his brief comment; and, turning to the litter, he drew out from a concealed pouch that was slung beneath it, a bottle of water, and a loaf of bread, and gave me to drink and to eat. I took it gladly, and Barbara did likewise. I thought, then, he would have taken some himself; but he put by the remainder, saying he had no need of it, and signed to the old woman to take her place in the litter, which was then raised by two of his followers. The third went in advance to clear away obstacles from the path, and we followed behind, I clinging to the padre's arm.
He said no more to me, but the touch of his hand was not ungentle. I marked how he led me over the smoothest ground, choosing the briars himself, though his feet were bare, and shielding me with his arm from the sharp blades of the dwarf palmettos that hedged the way.
As I walked beside him I could but marvel at the strange turns of Fate; for now it seemed that I would owe my deliverance, in part, to one of the very class I most hated as being the first cause of our captivity. From time to time I glanced up at his dark, stern face, and wondered whether, if I had not chanced to be his charge and under his sworn protection, he could have found it in his heart to burn me for a heretic!