HOW THE CID AVENGED HIMSELF ON THE COUNT OF CABRA
HOW THE CID AVENGED HIMSELF ON THE COUNT OF CABRA
Don Sancho II. had proposed to himself to rise superior to the demands of the nobles; nevertheless, he did not cease to consult them in matters of minor importance, for it was one thing to listen to respectful counsels, springing from loyalty and wisdom, and another to hear interested advice, given, as if it were law, by men who, like the Counts of Cabra and of Carrion, and others, merited the contempt of all honourable men, even though they had descended from the most noble families of the kingdom. His palace, therefore, was much frequented by the nobility, and Don Sancho took great pleasure in being surrounded by the Castilian nobles.
He had invited many of them to his Alcazar in Burgos on the day following that on which he had signed the order for the banishment of the Count of Cabra and his partisans; he made known to his visitors the steps which he had taken, and they all approved of them, agreeing with Rodrigo Diaz thatthe king should govern, without being plotted against by either nobles or plebeians.
Shortly after the nobles had retired from his presence, the king was conversing in a very friendly way with the Cid, whom he had ordered to remain a little longer by his side, for the company of De Vivar was always pleasing to him; just then the arrival of the Count of Cabra, who solicited a brief audience, was announced.
"Tell him," replied Don Sancho indignantly, "that he must depart immediately from the Alcazar, if he does not desire to receive this very day the punishment which his audacity merits."
The Cid hastened to appease the indignation of the king, by pleading in favour of the count.
"Sire," he said to Don Sancho, "perhaps the Count of Cabra, before leaving the country, wishes to give you some information which may be of importance, concerning the peace of the kingdom. You are justly indignant with him, but what can you lose by hearing him? He is such a coward that he would never hesitate to denounce even his best friend if he considered it to his advantage to do so."
Don Sancho was somewhat mollified by these words, and ordered that the count should be admitted to his presence.
Don Garcia entered immediately after, and, bending his knee before the king, said in a respectful voice—
"Sire, as a good vassal, which I am, I shall submit to the sentence of banishment which my lord and king has passed on me; but, before departing from Castile for ever, I have ventured to solicit your royal attention, in order to explain to you the difficult position in which I find myself."
Don Sancho could not restrain his indignation in view of the cowardice and meanness of that man, who had not sufficient courage or dignity to submit with a calm brow to the sentence which hung over him, as should have done even the least honourable cavalier.
"Depart from my presence," he said to Don Garcia, "and leave Castile within the time which I have mentioned, for I have been sufficiently indulgent in leaving the head on the shoulders of him who not alone dared to threaten me, but who paid vile assassins to strike down the best cavalier in Spain."
Don Garcia was about to deny that accusation, but a glance of the Cid sufficed to close his lips.
"Sire," the count ventured to say, "it would be better forme to die by a single stroke in Castile, than to die slowly in a foreign country. My estates at Cabra are in the possession of the Moors, and since I lost them I have been obliged to live in very straitened circumstances in Castile, even though I have friends and some little property in it. How shall I be able to live in a foreign land, with no friends there, and no means? Sire, if you have no compassion for me, pity at least my wife and children, who have never offended you; revoke the sentence of banishment which you have passed on me, or if you consider it absolutely necessary that I should quit your kingdom, provide me with some resources which may enable me to procure the absolute necessaries of life."
"Did you not inherit from your father a sword which you have allowed to rust in its scabbard?" replied Don Sancho. "Brighten it again with Moslem blood, reconquer with it your estates, and then you will not find it necessary to beg for the means of subsistence from either your king or your friends."
"My arm is much weakened by age"—
"By age and by inaction, not by exertion on the battlefields," interrupted the king.
The count, seeing that the king was not disposed to grant him the favour which he had requested, asked another from him.
"Sire," he said, "allow me at least to remain in Castile for the time necessary to realise the small property I still possess, so that I may have something to live on, in the place of my banishment, until I may be able, by means of my sword, to secure the well-being of myself and my family."
Rodrigo Diaz believed that the fears which the count expressed, regarding the privations to which his family might be subjected, were not ill-founded, and, forgetting the just resentment which he nourished towards the count, he resolved to intercede for that man, who invoked the names of wife and children—names which were so dear to himself.
"Sire," he said to the king, "as you denied to the Count of Cabra the previous favour he asked from you, I pray you to grant him the request which he now makes, and that you extend to a month the period within which he must depart from Castile; I guarantee to you that within that time your will shall be accomplished."
Shame and disdain should have been pictured on the visage of the count if he were a good cavalier; but DonGarcia did not know that noble pride, that dignity which prevents an honourable man from accepting a favour from an enemy. The count would have knelt down before De Vivar had not the king been present.
"Be it so," replied Don Sancho; "I grant the request which you make, but woe to him if he shall not have departed from my kingdom before the end of the month."
"Your will shall be done," replied Don Garcia, with humility; "thanks, sire"—
"Thank the Cid," interrupted Don Sancho disdainfully, "for it is to please De Vivar, and not you, that I have extended the period, before the end of which you are to quit Castile."
Rodrigo Diaz expressed to the king the pleasure he felt in having his request granted, and Don Sancho loaded him with praise and gave him signal proofs of friendship in the presence of the Count of Cabra, in order to humiliate him, by showing how far his intention was from refusing favours to the Cid, as those nobles, who were now sentenced to banishment, wished him to do.
On the same day Rodrigo Diaz said to the king—
"I have another favour to ask of you, sire."
"You know, good Cid, how delighted I always am to please you."
"Happily," continued Rodrigo, "peace reigns in Castile, and we have not to fear that it shall soon come to an end, for some love you, and they are the majority, and the remainder fear you. The sword of the cavalier, who can provide some hundreds of lances, should not lie idle in its scabbard, when there are near his country infidels, against whom he can fight, and countries into which he can carry the Christian faith, which is proscribed by them. You know, sire, that I can count on many brave friends who will accompany me to the war, and that I have a numerous body of men, whom I keep in my pay; well, then, I wish you to give me permission to set out for Andalucia, in order that my friends and I may have an opportunity of escaping from the inaction which is pressing on us in Castile."
"I feel much your leaving me, even for a short time," replied Don Sancho; "but your intentions are so honourable, that if I opposed them I should consider myself wanting in what is the duty of a king and of a Christian cavalier. Go, good Campeador, to the country of the infidels, and fight asyou always have fought, for I know that you will gain fame thereby, not alone in Castile, but throughout all Christendom. My father indeed was right when he said, that with a hundred cavaliers like you he could drive the Moors from the entire of Spain."
"Sire, I am only a cavalier, accustomed to conflicts, and I must be excused if from them I hope to win a little honour for myself, and much also for my country and the faith of my ancestors."
"I envy your lot, Rodrigo," exclaimed Don Sancho, fired with warlike enthusiasm; "the throne pleases me, because he who is seated on it is raised above the multitude, because he is always surrounded by splendour and grandeur, for my heart does not feel satisfaction in small things; my soul would desire to rule over the entire world; but I would wish also, like you, to fly to hostile countries, freed from the cares of a kingdom; to sleep in camps, always in armour and girded with my sword; to breathe the air of the fields; to hear the neighing of chargers and the sounds of the trumpets and drums; to see the flags of the enemy floating before me, to close with the infidels every day at the rising of the sun, to fight for many hours without cessation, and to throw myself for repose on Moslem standards, lulled to sleep by the chants of victory, and by the cheers of the enthusiastic people, who crown with laurel the brows of conquerors. Such, Rodrigo, is the liberty and the glory which my soul ardently desires; that is why I envy your lot, for it is in your power to achieve that glory and to enjoy that liberty."
"You also, sire, will gain them," answered Rodrigo, participating in the enthusiasm of the king; "you are young, and have abundant time to devote yourself to a soldier's life. What happiness, what glory, what prosperity may not Castile hope for during the reign of the successor of Fernando the Great!"
"Rodrigo," cried the Cid, with joy and emotion, "you not alone serve your king with the sword but also with the tongue. Your words fill my heart with the noblest ambition and with the sweetest hopes, which must bear excellent fruit."
On the same day the Cid commenced his preparations for an expedition against the infidels; he summoned all the friends who desired to follow him, and very soon he had an army collected, strong both in numbers and in the bravery of those who composed it. In it were Martin Antolinez,Alvar Fañez Minaya, Guillen of the Standard, Diego Ordoñez de Lara, the cousins of the Cid, and numerous other cavaliers; it is almost unnecessary to mention that Martin, formerly the Vengador, Rui-Venablos, and the bandits who had formed their band, were now in the Cid's army.
On other occasions Burgos had put on mourning when its cavaliers set out for a war; but on the day to which we refer the inhabitants of the city rejoiced, for they felt sure that the army, under the leadership of the Cid Campeador, would return victorious. Even Ximena, whose heart was usually full of grief whenever Rodrigo left the domestic hearth, seemed to share in the universal pleasure and hopes; she trusted that her husband would return from Andalucia crowned with fresh laurels. How love, and generous and noble pride shone in her beautiful eyes when, on taking leave of Rodrigo, she put to his lips the smiling face of a tender baby which she was fondling in her arms. Notwithstanding the universal gladness and the universal hopes, there was a person in the residence of the lords of Vivar who was weeping on account of one of those who was about to set out in the army of the Campeador: it was Mayor, the unhappy sweetheart of Fernan, who was lamenting, in anticipation, over the faithlessness which she feared from him as soon as he left her. Fernan had repented of the rough way he had treated her a few days before, had sworn everlasting fidelity to her by all that was most sacred in heaven and on earth, but—how could she trust in the oaths of one who so many times had sworn similar ones, and so many times had broken them?
The Cid Campeador departed with his army from Burgos. Almenon, King of Toledo, willingly permitted him to pass through his dominions, in order that he might continue in peace with Castile as in the time of Don Fernando; and as he was at war just then with his co-religionists of Andalucia.
When the latter learned that the Campeador was advancing on them, the note of alarm was sounded, and collecting together a numerous army, they hastened to Sierra Morena, in order to oppose the advance of the Castilians. The Cid well knew the advantage he would derive if he could triumph over the infidels in that first encounter, and prepared, therefore, to attack the enemy with greater impetuosity and valour than he had ever before displayed, although his men were inferior in numbers.
When the Moors confidently hoped that the Castilianswould refrain from advancing, if, indeed, they did not retreat, they found themselves attacked with such fury that they had to fall back for a considerable distance. However, the Christians were few in number compared with them, and shame infused sufficient valour into their hearts to prevent them from retreating, so that they swore that they would die rather than abandon the field of battle. Then the combat began anew with fierce determination on both sides. The conflict lasted many hours, and infidel blood, mixed with that of the Christians, ran in torrents; but some supernatural power seemed to aid the Christians,—even though the Moors opposed twenty cavaliers to each of those of the Cid,—and gave the victory to the latter, deciding it in such a way, that but few of the infidels escaped from the weapons of the Castilians.
The army of the Cid collected the spoils, which were very valuable, and having divided them, advanced with stronger resolution, with fresh hopes of conquering in all battles in which they might be engaged.
The Campeador then proceeded in the direction of Cabra. Why should he select the conquest of that place in preference to that of other fortresses nearer to him, and easier to subdue? "The reason," said his cavaliers, "is that he wishes to be able to say to his enemy, the Count of Cabra, 'See, I have been able to conquer what you were not able to defend; with a few hundred men I have taken the place which you were not able to retain with several thousands; you have not, in reality, been Count of Cabra for a long time, but I am so now; give up that title, of which you have been so proud, for it no longer belongs to you.'"
The army of the Cid arrived at last in the territory of Cabra; the frontiers were guarded by watch-towers and garrisoned ramparts; these fortresses fell into the power of the Castilians in a very short time, and although the governor of the town asked for aid from the neighbouring Moors, he asked for it in vain, for they, disheartened by the defeat at Sierra Morena, and others which they had afterwards suffered, were only intent on repairing their fortifications and preparing themselves for their own defence, in case, as they feared, they might be attacked by the Castilians.
The town of Cabra was very strong, both on account of its defences and the number of soldiers who garrisoned them when Don Garcia lost it, but in both respects it was evenstronger when the Cid advanced to reconquer it; but that did not cause De Vivar to waver in his resolution to lay siege to it. Having taken their position, the Castilians found that they were unprovided with sufficient warlike machines to break down the formidable walls, but brave hearts never let themselves be foiled by obstacles: such, indeed, were only incentives to the Cid. The besiegers required battering-rams, catapults, and scaling ladders, and they provided themselves with them in a very short time. They then placed them in position, and the place was attacked in many places. Its defenders were brave and numerous, and were supplied with powerful means of defence; the walls of Cabra were always crowded with soldiers, who continually cast forth clouds of death-dealing projectiles; the Cid, however, got his men ready for the assault. The walls had been weakened at four different points; at these four points the Cid determined to assault the town simultaneously, and he did so.
The Castilians and Moslems fought bravely, bloodily, and ferociously on the walls of Cabra; but at the end the army of the Cid poured into the town, and although the infidels, having abandoned the walls, defended, step by step, the streets and houses, the sacred Cross shone, on the same day, above the Moslem minarets, and Rodrigo Diaz could name himself Count of Cabra.
Enormous were the riches which the Moors had accumulated in that town, and consequently the spoils of the conquerors were very great. Rodrigo made the partition of all these valuable things, reserving the fifth part for the king, as was the custom, and only for himself the territory which he had conquered, although by right he could claim not only it, but also the larger part of the spoils. All those, therefore, who had taken part in the victory considered themselves very liberally treated, and broke out into enthusiastic cheers for their valiant and generous leader.
The Cid then put the fortifications of Cabra into a good state of repair, and having arranged that it should be garrisoned by two hundred soldiers, selected from his army, and commanded by Guillen of the Standard and Martin the Vengador, he prepared to return to Castile with the remainder of his army.
How joyful were the Cid and his companions when returning to their own country!
By travelling in a leisurely way four days would be necessaryto get to Burgos; the Cid, however, remembered that it wanted but two days of a month, from the time he had set out for Andalucia; and he became very uneasy, and accelerated the march. They went on, therefore, day and night, with but little rest, and came within sight of Burgos before the end of the two days.
"Will you tell me, Fernan," asked Alvar, "why we travelled so leisurely at first, and why our master gives us no rest now?"
"It puzzles me," answered the squire, "unless it is that the Count of Cabra and his partisans have commenced hostilities, and our master wishes to subdue them."
"That cannot be, comrade, for the partisans of De Garcia had to leave Castile almost at the same time as we did; and although the Count of Cabra had permission from the king to remain in it a month longer, his friends being away, he could not venture to attempt anything on his own account."
"You are right, Alvar; but—I swear by Judas Iscariot, I have just hit upon the reason why our master has journeyed so rapidly. On this very day Don Garcia must be off, bag and baggage; Don Rodrigo has made haste to get to Burgos before he leaves, in order that he may throw in his face the loss of his title of Count of Cabra, and tell him a few plain truths which will bring the colour to his cheeks."
"You are right, Fernan; it must be that."
"I doubt whether I most rejoice at having arrived in Burgos to see Mayorica, or to hear the pretty things which my master will say to Don Garcia."
"I would offer four masses to Santa Gadea that my master might find Don Garcia still in Burgos."
"And I the same, Alvar."
Fernan and Alvar had arrived at this point of their conversation when they came in full view of the city.
The army was at but a very short distance from Burgos, when those that composed it saw a number of cavaliers issuing from one of its gates and coming towards them. The Cid, who was riding in the front, was the first to notice those who were leaving the city, and was much rejoiced to find that they were Don Garcia, with some of his friends and retainers.
The Count of Cabra, the time being just completed which the king had fixed for his departure, was leaving Burgos, in order to quit Castile.
The haste with which the army of the Cid had marchedwas the reason that his arrival was not known in Burgos, and that the citizens had not thronged out to meet him; but just as Don Rodrigo and Don Garcia met, the city was becoming deserted, as its inhabitants were hastening out in swarms to welcome the victorious army.
Don Garcia, who had already learned that the Cid had taken possession of the states of Cabra, could not disguise his vexation, his anger, his envy, his despair at the sight of Rodrigo. He was a coward, and for that reason would not have dared, on any other occasion, to excite the anger of Rodrigo, but the rage which then burned within him made him reckless.
"You come in good time, De Vivar," he said to Rodrigo; "you continue to clothe yourself in the skin of a lamb in order that none may know that you are a fox."
"San Pedro of Cardeña!" murmured the Cid, placing his hand on his sword, unable to keep in his anger on hearing that insult; but he at once restrained himself, and Don Garcia continued—
"Can he be called a good cavalier who prayed the king to extend the time before my banishment that he might be able to insult me in my misfortunes, by saying, 'Quit Castile, not only without property, but also without the name of your ancestors, for that name is now mine; from this day forward I shall adorn myself with it'? Some day you shall know how terrible is the vengeance of the cavalier who has been so cruelly treated."
"You know, Don Garcia," answered the Cid, still restraining his anger, "that in all Castile there is no cavalier who should doubt of my loyalty less than you. Do not force me to throw publicly in your face the insults with which you sought to stain my honour."
"The day of my revenge will come, and then—beware of me, De Vivar."
"You have abundance of proof of your impotence to revenge yourself on me. I do not fear your vengeance, even if, to carry it out, you use means as base as those which you and your friends have already practised."
"My vengeance can never be as base as yours."
"Don Garcia!" exclaimed the Cid in a loud voice, "you shall now learn how Rodrigo de Vivar avenges himself on those who have injured him, who have hated him, and who have paid assassins to plunge their daggers in his heart. You are leaving Castile, banished, not knowing whither to go inorder to weep over your misfortunes. Proceed now to your estates of Cabra, for if you did not know how to defend them, I have been able to reconquer them for you. If you do not consider yourself strong enough to protect them from the Moors, you will find there Guillen of the Standard, Martin Vengador, and two hundred soldiers, who will be able to defend your states against all the Moors in Andalucia. Now do you understand why I besought Don Sancho to extend the time, before the end of which you should go from Castile into exile, from four days to a month?"
The Count of Cabra, stupefied by astonishment and joy, murmured some words of gratitude, and, urging on his horse towards Rodrigo, he held out his hand to him; but the Cid did not hear those words, which were drowned by the acclamations of the multitude, which had been quickly approaching; nor did he extend his hand to take that of Don Garcia, for, as soon as he had pronounced his last words, he set spurs to Babieca and continued his way.
HOW THE COUNT OF CARRION WOUND THE SKEIN AND HOW OTHERS UNWOUND IT
HOW THE COUNT OF CARRION WOUND THE SKEIN AND HOW OTHERS UNWOUND IT
The Count of Carrion had some friends in Toro, and he proceeded thither, two days after he had received the sentence of banishment pronounced by Don Sancho, leaving his sister in the castle under the guard of his accomplice, Bellido Dolfos.
Doña Elvira, the mistress of Toro, was a young princess, as unsuspecting as she was good, and this being known to Don Suero and his partisans, they determined, at any cost, to make themselves masters of her will, in order to establish at Toro the centre of their operations; for they had resolved to get up a conspiracy against Don Sancho, in order to avenge themselves for the sentence of banishment which he had passed on them. They made the Infanta believe that she was surrounded by dangers, that her brother harboured the design of reigning in all the states of his late father, and that Toro was the firstwhich he had resolved to get possession of, as, being the weakest, he preferred to commence in it his plans of usurpation. "Let us cause enmity," they said, "between Doña Elvira and Don Sancho, and he will at once endeavour to make himself master of Toro. Don Alfonso, Don Garcia, and Doña Urraca will take up at once the defence of their sister, fearing lest Don Sancho would also attack their dominions, stimulated to it by his usurpation of the state of Toro, and then the King of Castile will lose his crown, for he will not be able to resist all his brothers and sisters leagued against him." At the same time they instilled distrust, regarding the intentions of Don Sancho, into the heart of Don Alfonso, and into those of Don Garcia and Doña Urraca, by means of trusty friends whom they had near them. In a word, they were hatching a widespread conspiracy, which they felt confident would enable them to avenge themselves on the King of Castile.
The credulous Doña Elvira cast herself blindly into the arms of those men, believing that she could only procure her safety through them; so that, in a very short time, the Count of Carrion and his partisans were much more rulers of Toro than the daughter of Don Fernando. Such being the condition of affairs, was it not easy for those traitors to force Doña Elvira to declare war against Don Sancho? And having embroiled himself with Doña Elvira, would he not also have done so with all his brothers and sisters? And then, was not his ruin certain?
Don Sancho learned that Toro was now the residence of his bitterest foes, that they were conspiring there against Castile, and that his sister, far from opposing the conspirators, was aiding them by her tolerance, and even openly protecting them. On this account he was very much irritated with Doña Elvira, to whom he addressed frequent protests, threatening her with the loss of her state if she did not change her conduct.
Persuaded by her disloyal advisers, she replied to Don Sancho with much haughtiness, telling him that, if he dared to make an attempt on her state, all her brothers and sisters would side with her, and that they would divide amongst them the kingdom of Castile.
Don Sancho was easily excited to anger, but brave at the same time. That challenge made him very indignant, with the much more reason, as he believed that his brothers and sisters owed the quiet possession of their states, up to thepresent time, to his affection and generosity—states which, he believed, belonged by right to him. Besides, his mother, whose counsels were the only ones which had very strong effect on him, was not with him; he held, indeed, those of the Cid in much esteem, but he did not always allow himself to be blindly guided by him.
"My sister!" he exclaimed, filled with rage, when he had read her letters, "thinks that I fear my brothers, but she knows me but very imperfectly. I promised my mother not to proclaim war against my kinsfolk, and I have kept that promise; but if they declare war against me, I accept the issue. I do not fail in my word. Within a few days the state of Toro shall be mine, even though all my brothers and sisters should unite for its defence."
"Sire," said Rodrigo Diaz and other cavaliers to him, "remember the curse which your father called down on the head of any child of his who would dare to deprive another of them of his inheritance. You should know that Doña Elvira is but a powerless woman, who, instead of being punished, should be protected by you, for, in addition to being her brother, you are powerful."
"I do not incur the malediction of my father by opposing war to war," answered Don Sancho; "the curse of my father will fall on the head of that sister or brother who insults and challenges me. If I tolerate the arrogance and the provocation of my sister, they will all look on me as weak and cowardly, and some day they will all attack me, anxious to divide my kingdom amongst them. If I let Doña Elvira and all the others see now that I am neither weak nor a coward, they will not abuse my generosity in the future. The state of Toro must be mine, even though I return it to my sister immediately after having taken possession of it."
The Cid endeavoured to dissuade Don Sancho from his resolve, but his counsels were of no avail. He did not persist in them energetically, in order not to act against the principle which he had formerly expressed, that the king should act without being impeded either by nobles or commoners.
Don Sancho then collected a large body of men-at-arms, and was preparing to attack Toro; but just then Doña Elvira, having sought aid from Don Garcia, who was the most powerful of her brothers, the latter sent one of his cavaliers, named Rui-Ximenez, to Don Sancho, challenging him to attack the kingdom of Galicia instead of the state of Toro, andcharging him with cowardice, on account of his intention to fall upon the weak, like Doña Elvira, instead of the strong, like him. The vexation which this message caused Don Sancho was much greater than that which the provocations of Doña Elvira had occasioned.
The King of Castile consulted the Cid as to the reply which he should give to his brother.
"Endeavour," said Don Rodrigo to him, "to avoid war with your brother, but if he perseveres in his provocations, make war against him, without, however, forgetting that he is your brother; but to enter into his kingdom you must pass through that of Leon, and to do so without the consent of Don Alfonso would be only to make another enemy."
Don Sancho and Don Alfonso met in Sahagun, and arranged that the latter should allow the Castilian army to pass through the kingdom of Leon. As a result of this arrangement, Don Sancho sent Alvar Fañez Minaya to challenge Don Garcia.
He accepted the challenge, and collected a large army, with which he prepared to march against his brother, who was advancing in great force towards Galicia. His soldiers, however, who were very much discontented on account of war having been declared against Castile, as they foresaw its disastrous consequences, revolted at the moment of setting out, and killed Rui-Ximenez in the presence of the king, for they believed that it was he who had given evil counsels to Don Garcia.
This occurrence caused the breaking up of the army of the King of Galicia, and thus the Castilians penetrated into his kingdom, and Don Sancho made himself master of several fortified places, and especially of the entire Portuguese portion of the kingdom.
After a time, however, Don Garcia mustered another large army, and sallied forth to encounter his brother. The battle was fierce, the two kings fighting at the fronts of their respective troops, and after a combat, lasting for half a day, the Castilians were thrown into disorder. Don Garcia succeeded in making Don Sancho his prisoner, and having given him into the charge of six of his followers, he set out in pursuit of the fugitives.
"Give me my liberty, cavaliers," cried Don Sancho to those who were guarding him, full of anger at not being able to stop the flight of his disordered army, and of shame at finding himself a prisoner. "Let me free, and I promise you richrewards, and I also give you my word that I will not cause any further injury to your country."
"For all your kingdom we would not do it," replied his guards, "for we should then be traitors to our lord and king. You must await the return of Don Garcia, and he can act as he pleases."
Alvar Fañez Minaya saw from a distance the capture of Don Sancho, and, spurring his horse towards those who were guarding him, he cried out—
"Traitors, set my lord and king at liberty!"
And as they did not show any disposition to obey him, but were rather preparing to chastise his audacity, he rushed on them, and unhorsed two with the first thrusts of his lance. The other four then fled in terror; and Don Sancho, having recovered his freedom, rode up to the top of an eminence and cried out to his men—
"To me, my cavaliers! Loyal and brave Castilians, rally around me!"
Four hundred cavaliers collected around him in a few minutes, and the others, who were fighting in groups, scattered here and there, recovered courage, and succeeded in also joining the king.
The Cid, who in those wars accompanied the king, without taking part in the conflicts, as he desired to keep the promise which he had made to Don Fernando the Great, never to draw his sword against a son or daughter of his, unless one was oppressed by another and required his aid,—the Cid, we repeat, had remained neutral, at some distance from the field of battle; but when he became aware of the difficult position in which Don Sancho was, he believed that he should go to his assistance, and he appeared, with his three hundred cavaliers, in sight of the king just as he was preparing to descend to the plain, where the battle was continuing, with the troops which he had been able to reunite.
Don Sancho saw him, and joy and hope shone in his eyes.
"Let us descend to the plain," he said to his cavaliers; "for, the Cid aiding us, we shall still be able to recover our losses, the day shall yet be ours."
And he added, approaching the Cid—
"You are welcome, Campeador. A vassal never arrived in better time to serve his king, than you do now."
"Sire," replied Rodrigo, "you can count on winning thebattle. Your brother will be defeated; but you must promise me to spare his life, should he become your prisoner."
"I make you that promise, good Cid," answered Don Sancho.
They then descended to the plain, Don Sancho and the Cid in the front.
Don Garcia, wearied by the pursuit, was returning, well contented, and rejoicing at having defeated his brother, when, on turning a hill, he found himself face to face with the Castilians. The fight then recommenced, all the troops, on both sides, reuniting.
That second fight was as sanguinary as the first, but shorter. The cavaliers of the Cid succeeded in breaking up the ranks of Don Garcia, and the Castilians were victorious.
The Cid took Don Garcia prisoner, and delivered him up to Don Sancho.
"Don Garcia," said the latter to his brother, "tell me, on the word of a cavalier, what fate you had reserved for me when, a short time ago, you had me in your power, for I wish to treat you as you would have treated me."
"Death!" replied Don Garcia, driven to the wildest desperation.
"Your brother does not wish to shed the blood of his brother," said the King of Castile; "your brother would restore you to liberty, and would give back to you the kingdom which he has won from you, if he did not fear that you would provoke a second war, in which Christians would shed the blood of Christians. As you cannot live free in your Alcazar of Oviedo, live a prisoner in the Castle of Luna."
"You do well to imprison me," replied Don Garcia, "as I am now your deadliest foe, since it has been your desire to have in me an enemy and not a brother. But those who will free me from my prison are not wanting. The King of Leon is still free; and the hope also remains to me that your forehead shall be struck some day by the bolt of divine vengeance, with which our father threatened the Cain who would attack his brother."
"It is ye that are Cains, not I," exclaimed Don Sancho, in anger; but, restraining himself, he added—
"Brother, refrain from insults, which can only make your condition worse. Give me your word that you will live far from my states, and I shall see that you want nothing wherewith to maintain your dignity, and in exchange I will now give you your freedom."
"If you give it to me, I shall use it to drag you from the throne which you have usurped."
"Then you shall live and die in confinement, as you so desire!" exclaimed Don Sancho indignantly.
A few days after, the unfortunate Don Garcia was imprisoned in the Castle of Luna.
FROM BURGOS TO VIVAR
FROM BURGOS TO VIVAR
One morning in summer, shortly after sunrise, two cavaliers set out from Burgos in the direction of Vivar; both were young and graceful, and rode on, conversing in an animated and pleasant tone, keeping their steeds beside each other.
They were Guillen of the Standard and Martin Vengador.
"What a beautiful morning this is!" said Guillen.
"Yes," replied his companion; "and how pleasant it is to breathe the air of the fields when the sun is rising."
"We, who have passed our lives in the country, smother in cities. See, Martin, how blue the sky is, listen to the singing of the birds amid the trees of that dell, and smell the fragrance of the plants which grow around us."
"This morning reminds me of the one on which we left Cabra, the day following the arrival of the count, whom it cost so little to have it restored to him."
"They say that Andalucia is a fairer land than Castile, and certainly its fields are more fertile and its sky clearer, but may God grant it to me to live and die in our famed Castile, for there is no country equal to one's native land."
"So say I also, Guillen; besides, in our Castile there are abundance of fertile plains, luxuriant woods, and fragrant flowers; we also have a clear sky and a brilliant and life-giving sun. Castile is, above all others, the land of chivalry, of honour, and of glory. If Andalucia has an advantage over Castile in its soil, it has not such with regard to its inhabitants; here we let our souls be seen as naked as our fields; therethey show their souls concealed with foliage and flowers, like the fields of that land; as in our land we have permitted scarcely any infidels to dwell, we have preserved pure the blood of the cavaliers of Covadonga and Roncesvalles."
"It delights me to wander along the banks of the Guadalquiver, for on them the trees and flowers are most beautiful; but it delights me more to walk on the banks of the Ebro, of the Tormes, and of the Duero, for they are filled with the memories of brave cavaliers and glorious feats of arms."
"We cannot envy any who dwell in Spain, for God has given us honours, of which we can justly feel proud, and great natural riches which we can enjoy."
"And love adorns all, Martin; for my part, I can say that love causes me to see flowers where others can only see rocks, palaces where there are only huts, and angels where there are but human beings. Does it not seem a great happiness to you to have souls that feel as ours do, and to love so well the land in which we were born?"
"And above all," said Martin, smiling pleasantly, "the love of maidens, so worthy of being loved as your noble Doña Teresa and my humble Beatrice."
Guillen sighed, and there disappeared from his face the joy which, till then, had shone on it.
"Happy you, who can see, as often as you like, her whom you love!" exclaimed the lover of the Infanta of Carrion.
"Guillen, the day is not far distant when your happiness will be as complete as mine. Are you indeed discontented with your lot?"
"No, Martin, no. When I think that I, a poor servitor of the Count of Carrion, the son of a humble peasant, have been made already a member of the order of chivalry, am treated as an equal by the most noble cavaliers of Castile, have won the love of the king and of the Cid, and am richer than many of those who call themselves grandees, it seems that joy should disturb my reason. But why should you be astonished, Martin, that my heart becomes sad when I think of the Infanta, whom I love more and more as days go on, and whom I may not see for a very long time? If Doña Teresa had a mother by her side, or even anyone who could protect her, love her, and cheer up the sadness of her heart, living apart from her would not be so hard to bear; but she is in the power of her brother, nay, even worse, in thepower of that traitor Bellido, since the king banished Don Suero."
"But how is it possible, Guillen, that the Count of Carrion can trust the traitor to such an extent, that he not only gives him his friendship, but also confides to him the care of his household? How is it possible that he should have put his sister and his nephews in his charge, during his absence?"
"It appears impossible, Martin, but nothing is more certain."
"But how do you manage to receive news of what takes place in the Castle of Carrion?"
"I hear from Doña Teresa through a domestic, named Gonzalo, who was always devoted to his lady and to me; he is bent on revenging himself on the count, from whom he has received more blows than he has hairs on his head."
"I am astonished that Bellido permits him to absent himself from the Castle long enough to go to Burgos."
"For a considerable time the count made use of him to send letters to his friends; and when he went to Toro, where he now is, he left him in Carrion, in order that he might perform the same services for Bellido, spurred on now and then by a sound cudgelling, which the count advised his friend to apply to him, should he show himself at any time reluctant to do his bidding. Bellido sends him rather often to Burgos, with letters to the partisans of the exiled noblemen, for they have still in Castile some who are desirous to aid them; also to find out what is going on, and to act as a spy even on the king himself."
"It is fortunate for you that you have such means of communicating with the Infanta."
"It certainly is, for if I had them not, I swear by the name I bear, that before this I would have attacked the Castle of Carrion, and have either found my death or removed the Infanta from that prison."
"But I think that even still we should strike a blow against the castle, in order to free the defenceless dove from the claws of the hawk."
"I am thinking of doing so, Martin; and if I have not done so before this, it is because I feared that the attempt might be vain; the castle is very strong in itself, and it is defended by good crossbow-men; but I can now count on friends who will aid me in the enterprise, even Don Rodrigo himself will lend me his assistance, if not personally, at least with men-at-arms, and I hope that before a year passes,Guillen of the Standard and the Infanta of Carrion will be united before the altar. On the day that I found you in the wood, and induced you to go with me to the wars, if I had said to a grandee, of even the lowest rank, that I aspired to the hand of the Infanta of Carrion, he would have spat in my face and looked on me as a madman; but now even the King of Castile will support my pretensions."
"Blessed was the day of which you remind me, Guillen," exclaimed Martin, thinking of what he had been when he commanded his band, and what he now was, in the service of the Cid. "Blessed also be you," he added, "who, from being a miserable bandit, made of me a soldier, whom the Campeador honours with his friendship and confidence—he who is the best cavalier in the world. You well said that on the fields of battle I would be able to wash away, with infidel blood, the stain which the world sees on the brow of the bandit; that on them I would acquire power to chastise the assassin of my father; that from them I would return a hundred times more worthy to be united to the girl whom I love."
"We have had many glorious days in the wars, and I hope that we shall have many more."
"I pray God that we may be soon fighting once more against the Moors, instead of in those accursed conflicts of Christians against Christians."
"Unfortunately, Martin, I fear that those battles, of which you speak, are not yet terminated. As things are, I believe that, before long, there must be more sanguinary combats between Castilians and Leonese. I would wager the sword which the Cid girt on me, that, within two months, there will be a fierce war between Don Sancho and his brother Don Alfonso. Don Sancho eagerly desires to possess the kingdom of Leon, especially since he has acquired that of Galicia; and Don Alfonso, who knows that, and gives ear to evil advisers, affords every day opportunities for a rupture, by letting the enmity appear which he feels towards Don Sancho."
The two young men were thus conversing when they came in sight of Vivar; they were much rejoiced at this, for the day, fresh and pleasant at its beginning, was becoming oppressive, as the sun was very high, and was shooting down his beams much fiercer than was agreeable. It was not alone the hope of rest, shaded from the heat of the sun, that made them anxious to see the end of their two-hours' journey, for itdid not take much longer time to complete it; Martin loved Beatrice deeply, and was returning to see her after a long absence in the war between Don Sancho and Don Garcia, and Guillen was about to see the happiness of his friend and companion-in-arms, in which he rejoiced as much as if it were his own.
In front of the farmhouse of Pero was a beautiful orchard, in which was a great abundance of fruit-trees, which laborious and happy husbandmen had planted, and made to grow and bear fruit with their constant care; in it were standing Beatrice and her parents when Martin and Guillen halted on an eminence which overlooked the farmhouse.
On seeing them, a cry of joy escaped from the lips of Beatrice, who let fall the fruit which she was carrying in her turned-up skirt, and ran to meet the two young men; her parents imitated her, for they looked on Martin as a son, and indeed on Guillen almost as such, for the former seldom went to Vivar without being accompanied by the latter.
Beatrice was soon serving an appetising meal to her guests and her parents under a large tree in the garden, and all were conversing pleasantly together, building castles in the air, and abandoning themselves to a happiness which only good souls can understand.
Shortly after the termination of the meal the gallop of a horse was heard on the road which led to Carrion, and which was only about two stone-throws from the farmhouse. All turned their eyes in that direction, and Guillen uttered a cry of pleasure, for in the horseman he recognised Gonzalo, the servant of Don Suero, who now and then brought him news from Doña Teresa.
Guillen ran across the orchard and went out on the road to meet Gonzalo, who dismounted at once when he recognised him.
"Gonzalo, you are indeed welcome," said Guillen, in whose face pleasure and inquietude were depicted. "Do you come from the Castle of Carrion?"
"I left it during the night," answered Gonzalo, "and I bring you a letter from my mistress. Here it is," he said, and he handed a parchment to the young man.
Guillen hastened to open it, and then read it eagerly.
"To-day," wrote the Infanta to him, "Bellido, my jailer sets out for Toro, and he cannot be back for at least eight days. Guillen, it is a long time since I saw you last, and fora long time I feared to die without seeing you again; ask Gonzalo, when he delivers this letter to you, when he can be back to the castle, for, if you can come to see me, he will facilitate your entrance into it. Have pity on me, do not allow me to die within those gloomy walls without again seeing you—you on whom I place the only hope which I have in this world."
The loving youth pressed his lips on those lines, partly effaced by the tears of Teresa, and felt his eyes moist, as on that night, both sad and joyous, in which he revealed his love to the unhappy maiden in the camp of the bandits.
"Gonzalo!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms round the neck of the messenger, "if I had a hundred lives I would willingly give them in exchange for the happiness which you have brought me, and even then I would consider it but poorly paid! I am no longer the humble servitor of Don Suero, such as you formerly knew me; I have power and wealth, with which I can recompense your services. Continue in the household of the count, in order that you may watch over Doña Teresa; and on the day when your mistress shall no longer have need of your care, I will say to you, 'In future you shall not have to go into the employment of any person; I have wealth which I have won in the wars; take what you require in order to live free and happy wherever you may desire!'"
Gonzalo was not mercenary, but how was it possible for him not to feel happy, when he saw shining before him the hope of being able to live as Guillen had said, instead of being constantly exposed to the outrages and bad treatment to which he was subjected in the service of the Count of Carrion.
"My lady and you," he replied, "can dispose of me, as I am resolved to serve both of you, as far as is in my power, without any recompense but that of being useful to those who need my services."
"Do you believe, Gonzalo, that it will be possible for me to enter the castle during the absence of Bellido?"
"My lady and I have had long talks on the subject, and we have come to the conclusion that such is possible, by making our arrangements beforehand."
"When can you be in Carrion again?"
"To-morrow night; I am now going to Burgos with letters, which Bellido gave me before his departure, with instructions to go with them to-day."
"Well, then, to-morrow night, at whatever hour you now tell me, I shall be outside the castle."
"At midnight you must come to the postern very cautiously, although there is not much risk of the crossbow-men hearing you; for, as Bellido makes them keep watch every night, under pain of anyone who falls asleep being hung on the battlements in the morning, they will try to make up for that by sleeping well whilst he is away from the castle. I shall watch for your arrival through the loopholes, and as soon as I see you approach I will open the postern and let you in, and will facilitate your getting through the castle, so that you may see Doña Teresa for a short time."
"Very well, I shall not fail to be there to-morrow night at the hour you have mentioned."
"Take care that you are not surprised by a band of robbers, who, people say, have appeared recently in the district of Carrion, where bandits have not been seen since the Vengador and his men went away."
"All right, Gonzalo, I shall not forget your caution; I thank you for it. What have you to tell me of the Infanta?"
"If her troubles do not soon cease, God will be as unjust to her as men have been."
"No, Gonzalo, God is not unjust, as men often are; God will make up for the sufferings of the Infanta with many years of perfect happiness; tell her that, for you will see her before I can."
After a few more words Guillen and Gonzalo separated, the former returning to where Martin and the Pero family were awaiting him, and the latter continuing his journey to Burgos.
Guillen showed Martin the letter from the Infanta, and told him that he would go to Carrion before he returned to Burgos, with the intention of removing Teresa from the castle.
"I will accompany you, Guillen," said the Vengador, "and I will die with you if necessary."
"Thanks, Martin," exclaimed Guillen, holding out his hand affectionately to his friend; "but I know the danger which threatens both you and me when we approach Carrion; I cannot therefore accept your generous offer, for—what would become of your good and loving Beatrice if she were to lose you?"
"Beatrice," replied Martin, "would look on me as a coward, and would despise me, with very good cause, if I saw you going into danger without accompanying you. Do I notvalue more than my life the friendship with which you honour me, and the good fortune which you procured me, when you induced me to exchange the vile career of a bandit for that of a soldier? Guillen, let us set out for Carrion as soon as it may please you, for I will follow you gladly to the end of the world, even though there were dangers at every step. I wish that Rui-Venablos could accompany us, but he must remain in command of the Cid's troops during our absence."
Guillen finally accepted the offer of Martin. They spent the remainder of the day and the following night in the farmhouse of Pero, and at a very early hour in the morning they started for Carrion.
FROM VIVAR TO CARRION
FROM VIVAR TO CARRION
At the fall of the evening Guillen and Martin arrived within view of the castle, although they were still at a considerable distance from it; they determined to await the night in a thick grove of chestnut trees, in order that they might continue their journey as soon as it grew dark, and arrive at the castle by midnight, as had been arranged between Guillen and Gonzalo.
The sun was near setting, and was lighting up, with a fiery glow, the distant horizon. Guillen and Martin had dismounted, and, whilst their horses were grazing amongst the chestnut trees, were seated on a high bank, from which they had an extensive view of the surrounding country. Martin had his eyes fixed on the wide and fertile plain of Carrion, the beauty of which confirmed what he had said on the previous day—that the hand of God had been also extended over Castile, when He was distributing the best gifts of nature. Guillen was gazing on the Castle of Carrion, which arose in the distance, veiled by the smoke arising from heaps of burning stubble, like a dark phantom, which seemed intent on filling with terror that calm and enchanting landscape.
"Ah!" he said, with a heavy heart, and with tears ready to break from his eyes, "how near appears that accursed castle,and, notwithstanding, what a distance separates me from her who sighs within it! There—within those gloomy walls—is the dear girl who has, in the whole world, no other hope but my love. Would that I could fly like those birds, which, in the branches of the trees surrounding us, are plaintively singing their farewell to the day! Would that I could fly like them through the clear air and alight on the sill of that window, at which Teresa has so often shed sad tears. Perhaps the poor girl is now standing, full of grief, at that window, thinking of me, and beseeching the Virgin, whose sanctuary is on the neighbouring hill, to guide my footsteps, and to make me brave enough to endeavour to get to her."
Guillen and Martin suddenly abandoned their enthusiastic reflections, for, turning round, they saw behind them about fifty armed men, who came out from amongst the surrounding trees. Both placed their hands on their swords, but before they had time to draw them, those men rushed upon them, with threatening aspect, and seized on them, crying out—
"If you move hands or feet you are dead!"
Guillen doubted not but that these were the robbers of whom Gonzalo had spoken.
"Cowards," he said to them, "you have not courage enough to fight, arm to arm and breast to breast, although you are twenty times as numerous as we are, but treacherously capture us without giving us time to defend ourselves."
"By the glorious San Isidore!" cried out one of the bandits, closely examining Martin, "I have less sense than these horses if we have not amongst us our former captain, the valiant Vengador."
"I am the Vengador," said Martin, examining in his turn the bandits, who hastened to set both him and Guillen free, with evident marks of respect.
"I certainly remember," he added, "having seen some of you in my band."
"We are those who were in it," replied four of the bandits, amongst whom was he who had first recognised Martin, and who appeared to be the leader.
"Do you not remember," said this man, "Juan Centellos, who on the day of the death of the Raposo proposed that you should be chosen as the chief of those remaining of the band, and who said to you that he had a daughter as good as the noblest lady in Castile, and who afterwards cured the wound which you had received on your head?"
"Yes, I remember it well," replied Martin.
"Do you not also remember that after the unlucky attack on the Castle of Carrion, some of the few of us that succeeded in escaping, separated themselves from the band, hoping that, by working separately, they would find it easier to avenge themselves than by remaining with their companions?"
"I do; you were one of them."
"And the others were the three whom you see here. All our efforts were, however, useless, and we therefore made up our minds to rejoin the band. When we went to look for it, we learned that it had marched to Portugal, and since then we have wandered about the district of Carrion, sometimes with good fortune, sometimes with bad. Do you know, Sir Vengador, that Bellido Dolfos, whom you loved so much, was the greatest traitor that woman ever give birth to?"
"Yes; I have since learned that it was he who sold the band in Carrion."
"That is what I was just about to tell you. And, by my soul, Don Suero is pleased with him, for he keeps him in his castle, treating him royally. Anger of Lucifer! if we only lay hands on him, and we are trying to do so for a long time! Don't go too near Carrion, for if that Bellido smells you it will be bad for you, for you must know that he is not so much your friend as you perchance think."
"It is to the Castle of Carrion that we are going, as Bellido is now absent."
"The son of my mother would not trust much in his absences. Do not go there, Sir Vengador; and I give the same advice to this youth, although I do not know who he is.... But now that I look closely at him, I think that he is the page who came with Doña Teresa to our camp."
"He is the same," replied Martin.
"What, does he no longer serve Don Suero?"
"Far from serving him, he would plunge his sword in him, and also in Bellido, if he only had them in his power."
"I repeat to you, however, Sir Vengador, that you should not go to the castle, for I fear that some evil will come on you there."
"I thank you for the interest you take in us; but we are resolved to enter the castle this very night, and we would not abandon our intention for all the wealth of the world."
"Well, then, as you are resolved to go on, may God send you good luck!"
"I think," said Guillen, "that we cannot remain here longer, as night is coming on, and we are still far from the castle."
"You are right," said Martin; and he added, turning to the bandits—
"We wish you good luck; and if you don't object, we are going to continue our journey."
"Continue it, with our good wishes," answered Juan Centellos; "but tell me, Sir Vengador, what do you mean by good luck?"
"By good luck I mean that you may escape from the Salvadores, and"—
"And that Bellido and Don Suero may fall into our hands, so that we may pay off last year's treachery; is it not so?" interrupted the captain of the band.
"That is what I was about to say to you," answered Martin.
The two travellers then mounted and continued their journey.
They had left the bandits a considerable time, when they thought they heard the noise of people in their rear; they stopped to listen, but as they heard nothing more they believed that it was voices borne by the breeze from some village in their vicinity; they then silently pursued their way.
They came at last near the wood situated close to the castle, and recognised it by the branches of the trees standing out against the sky behind them. They dismounted there, enveloped the hoofs of the horses with some pieces of cloth, which they had brought with them for that purpose, and, thanks to that precaution, they approached the postern of the castle with scarcely any noise, leading their horses by the bridles.
A white handkerchief, held out through one of the loopholes, and which could be distinctly seen against the dark background of the wall, was waved for a moment, as if summoning them to that spot. They then fastened their horses to trees, and proceeded to the postern, which Gonzalo immediately opened, with the least noise possible.
"Ascend by the secret stairs," he said to Guillen, "and come back soon; I shall await you here, to shut the postern when you go out."
Guillen, who was well acquainted with the rooms and corridors of the castle, mounted, feeling his way, the stairs which Gonzalo had indicated to him, and Martin followed close behind; both had their unsheathed swords in theirhands, in order to be prepared in case of a surprise. In a short time they were in the upper storey of the castle, and consequently near the apartments of the Infanta.
The heart of Guillen was beating with violence; against it would soon rest, throbbing, the heart of Teresa, which for so long a time had been sad and solitary.
Both youths reached the door of Teresa's apartment; at that moment it suddenly opened; she rushed towards Guillen with open arms, and fell senseless on his neck, crying out, "Guillen, Guillen!"
And that exclamation was so loud that it echoed through the vaulted passages of the castle.
"Treason, treason! The chamber of the Infanta!" answered, to the cry of Teresa, a voice which Guillen and Martin recognised with terror; it was the voice of Bellido, who had pretended to have left the castle in order to surprise Guillen, who, he doubted not, would be informed of his absence by the Infanta, and would therefore hasten to visit her.
A great din of footsteps, of voices, and of arms followed the cry of Bellido.
The Infanta remained in a faint, notwithstanding the efforts of Guillen and Martin to restore her to consciousness.
"Let us fly from the castle," said Martin. "Take the Infanta in your arms, and I will protect you behind; we shall thus escape, for if Gonzalo did not betray us, the postern is still open."
Guillen took up Teresa in his arms; her weight could not embarrass him much, for the unhappy girl was worn away with grief; then, followed by Martin, he ran to the staircase by which they had ascended. Just as they placed their feet on the first step they were overtaken by Bellido and a number of servants and crossbow-men, who attacked them furiously; the staircase, however, was narrow, and that circumstance favoured Martin, who had only to ward off three or four blows at a time. At last they reached the postern, which Gonzalo quickly opened. He placed himself at the side of Martin, determined to share the fate of the young men, fighting against Bellido and his followers: all the combatants were then outside the castle.
At that moment loud voices were heard amongst the neighbouring trees, and a number of men rushed like lions on Bellido's followers, whilst others entered the postern, inobedience to Juan Centellos, who cried out, "Come on, my brave fellows; let some get into the castle, and let the others exterminate those cowards, who are attacking the Vengador!"
The forces were now more equal; or rather, those who were at first the weaker had become the stronger. The combat was obstinate and bloody, both without and within the castle. Inside, the advantage should be on the side of the bandits, for their opponents were but few, as almost all the men-at-arms, who guarded the castle, had sallied forth in pursuit of the abductors.
At a short distance from the castle was a convent of nuns, to which Guillen made his way, with his precious burden, hearing behind him the noise of the combat.
What a torture was it for the brave youth to hear, at but a few paces from him, the clashing of swords, and not be able to use his! He ran—flew on, as if nothing were impeding his footsteps; and if the question were then asked, What most urged him on with such speed to the convent? whether it was to place Teresa in a place of safety, or to return to fight amid his friends? it would have been difficult to answer.
Suddenly the town and its vicinity was lighted up with a bright glare. The Castle of Carrion had been set on fire.
Guillen arrived at the door of the convent, which was a small building, recently erected to shelter the community which occupied it, until Christian charity would enable them to build another, larger and more beautiful. He pulled violently a rope, which hung outside the door, and set a bell ringing. Some of the nuns ran to this summons, and Guillen hurriedly said to them—
"Fire is consuming the castle of the Counts of Carrion; afford hospitality to the Infanta Doña Teresa, whom I have had the good fortune to rescue from the flames."
The nuns hastened to afford assistance to the young lady, and Guillen left the convent, making his way to the castle, in the vicinity of which the fight was still raging. After proceeding a short distance, he met Martin and Gonzalo, and the three embraced warmly.
"Martin," cried Guillen, "the innocent dove is now free, and saved from the talons of the hawk."
"And the hawk," replied the Vengador, "is in flight, pursued by Juan Centellos and others of our aiders, and the riches of Don Suero are in the power of the bandits."
"To Vivar, to Vivar!" cried Guillen. "God has commenced to discharge the bolts of His justice on the heads of the wicked,and expiation will be completed in the end. Gonzalo," he added, turning towards him who had facilitated his entrance into the castle, "come with us, and you will be with your best friends."
They then proceeded to the place where they had left the horses, which were still fastened to the trunks of the trees.
"My horse is strong," said Guillen to Gonzalo, "get up behind me and you shall see that this horrible spectacle will be soon lost to our view. It is a sight which oppresses and saddens my soul. My God! my God! the fire consumes the apartment of Teresa, which I should like to see preserved, as the sanctuary of my sweetest remembrances. See how the flames burst from the window, at which the Infanta so often stood, sad and broken-hearted! Comrades, let us get away as quickly as possible."
The three of them then made their way towards the Burgos road, whilst the flames, fanned by a strong breeze, roared through the castle, shooting up to the very battlements, and illuminating with their sinister glare the plain of Carrion to a considerable distance.