The Marquis Of Penalta Part 25

"No, dear, no; I am happy enough because thus I have conquered your love...."

"Is that the only reason?"

" ...And because I like to lead this better regulated and sober life."

"That is a different thing!"

Let us say here (though the reader will not have failed to perceive it) that in imagination, and even intelligence, Maria was the young Marques de Penalta's superior, and that in this regard, and taking into account the deep affection which he professed for her, it was nothing strange that he should yield to his mistress and her counsels in matters wherein men of greater learning and talent frequently give way to their mothers and wives. Maria, aside from her vivid imagination, stimulated and kindled by continual reading, had a special gift for persuading. Her language was always easy and picturesque, and she took especial delight in moving her friends to compa.s.sion, when she wanted to entice from them money for the poor or for church services; the rare facility with which she pa.s.sed from the serious and pathetic to the humorous, and mingled with an earnest entreaty the salt of a witty saying, made her irresistible. The religious confraternities and societies of Nieva had no more active and influential member, and they relied upon her in emergencies as upon a guardian angel who would be able to rescue them from their difficulties. As may be supposed, this lofty estimation was supported, not only by the young lady's splendid moral and physical qualities, but also in no small degree by the fact that she was the daughter of the richest and most respected gentleman in town.

Let us say also that at the period when these events occurred, the clergy and the religious tendencies of our people were suffering a mild sort of persecution on the part of the government, which was then under the control of liberals most extreme in their views and notorious for their heretical ideas, and this, as was to be expected, had greatly excited the consciences of the G.o.d-fearing, and had kindled in the Northern provinces, naturally more religious and more tenacious of tradition, an obstinate and b.l.o.o.d.y civil war which threatened to overthrow the body politic, and, at the same time, our wealth and prestige. All people of greater or less piety who loved our Catholic traditions, every one who detested the persecution suffered by the Church, and yearned for the kingdom of Jesus on earth under the mediation of his ministers, waited eagerly the result of this formidable war, in which were at stake not only the more or less genuine rights of a claimant to the throne, but likewise the dearest and most august interests of religion. Those who frequented the churches and were on terms of intimacy with the clergy, took a tacit stand together against the heretics in power, receiving joyfully and quickly spreading all intelligence favorable to the royal-Catholic cause, and falling into anxiety and melancholy when bad news came. In the houses of the richest landed proprietors, in the sacristies, and in the back shops of many an absolutist merchant was read on the sly the _Cuartel Real_, the official journal of the Pretender, which came from time to time between pieces of _cretonne_ or packages of macaroni. Festivals in honor of the Virgin were celebrated with great pomp as an atonement for the manifold impieties of the Congress of Deputies, and these festivals on more than one occasion ended violently by the interference of drunken Republicans.

There was a great increase in attention to religious wors.h.i.+p, especially to that of the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, and many pious people went on pilgrimages to the sanctuary of Lourdes, on their return telling their friends about the fine arrangement and the solid organization of the Catholic hosts in the Basque provinces. A number of young men of the best known families of Nieva had not been seen over night, concealing the real purpose of their absence. From this to open, resolute conspiracy is but a step, and in Nieva this preparatory step had already been taken. There was formed in the town a Carlist committee,[56] which held its meetings with a certain mystery and kept up close relations with the Central Committee, whose orders it obeyed, and a lively correspondence with the army of the Pretender. As in the country, though not to such a degree as in the Basque provinces, there existed sufficient elements for the service of the Catholic-monarchical cause, to bring about, provided they were well managed, if not a formal war, at least a serious agitation. The committee of Nieva, instigated by that of the capital, decided, after much vacillation and no few discussions, to raise a company within the territory. The preparations were very extensive; they began early in the winter, and did not terminate until the beginning of the spring. There were reports emanating from Bayonne, there came orders and plans of action, there were numberless secret meetings, a few women were enlisted, muskets were surrept.i.tiously abstracted from the factory by a few Carlist workmen, a quant.i.ty of white caps and spatterdashes[57] were made; finally, one night there went out to camp some thirty young men, for the most part students and seminarists, at whose head marched the president of the committee, Don Cesar Pardo, whom we had the honor of meeting at the end of the third chapter of this narration. Those who had sworn to go forth that night were more than three hundred, but only that handful of braves were on hand, and Don Cesar, giving proofs of what he was, that is, a bold, heroic caballero, did not hesitate to take command of them, hoping by his example to carry along the timid. They made their way to the mountain by the valley of Canedo; but on the next day a dozen policemen,[58] who immediately started in pursuit of them, took them by surprise just as they were dining in camp, and brought them back to the city, bound, without being able to make the least resistance. The people, hearing of the incident, hastened in great numbers to await them on the highway, and saw them filing toward the jail, melancholy but dignified and stern, showing in their haughty eyes that if they had not been victims of a surprise, much blood would have been shed.

The eldest daughter of the house of Elorza, a most ardent devotee of religion, enlisted body and soul in the divine mission of sanctifying her spirit and saving it from the clutches of sin. An unwearied worker in the field of evangelical virtue, ever aspiring to greater perfection, and a zealous propagator of the faith, she could not fail to share in the indignation burning in the breast of the people with whom she had most to do. To her ears came, greatly exaggerated, the rumor of the revolutionary excesses, and the blasphemies daily uttered by the newspapers at the capital, though of course she never ventured to read them. Her confessors commanded her to implore G.o.d in her prayers, that the Church might triumph and its enemies be brought to confusion and repentance; her friends and companions in the confraternities asked her to join them in special novenas for the consolation of the Virgin; not a few times they asked alms of her for some priest who was lying in misery, and at other times for the unfortunate nuns of some convent, cruelly torn from it that it might be turned into barracks. All these things, along with a fervid affection for the holy inst.i.tutions thus persecuted, continually fomented in her ardent, enthusiastic soul a deep aversion for the persecutors and the impious men who governed contrary to the law of G.o.d. Sometimes, carried away by her impressionable temperament, she felt powerful impulses to follow the example of Judith, making some villain expiate such horrible deeds of sacrilege. She would have liked to hold in her power the persecutors of Jesus, to destroy them and crush them to powder. When these cruel impulses pa.s.sed away, they left her always with a warm compa.s.sion for the innocent victims of the madness of impiety, and a vague desire to contribute with her blood to the reign of Jesus and Mary over all the powers of the earth. She felt that a something was born in her heart spurring her toward active life, persuading her to leave for a time the joys of contemplation for the pains of struggle, repose for labor, the enchantment of solitude for tumult; she heard, like the bride of the Sacred Song, a voice saying: "_Open to me, my sister, my love, my dove, my undefiled, for my head is fitted with dew and my locks with the drops of the night._" She saw clearly that her Jesus suffered for the injustices of men, and that he demanded her aid; that he asked a new proof of love by tearing her away from the comfort which she enjoyed and casting her amid the hurricanes of the world. But the beautiful young girl at the same time saw the enormous difficulties rising before her at the first step which she should make, the persecutions which would come upon her, and the certainty that those who loved her would regard her conduct as absurd.

She understood her weakness, was afraid of the bitter griefs in store for her, and she replied, like the bride: "_I have put off my coat; how shall I put it on? I have washed my feet; how shall I defile them?_"

Long she struggled with herself to quench the voice calling her to active life, and convince herself that she could not do anything for the cause of the Lord; but it was in vain. All her specious arguments were answered victoriously by the voice, putting it before her that she ought not to question whether her aid would or would not be valuable, but simply to consider the will with which she offered it; that G.o.d was pleased oftentimes to show his power by entrusting the execution of great deeds to humble and frail creatures, as was proved by the renowned Jean d'Arc, Saint Catalina of Sienna, Saint Teresa, and other excellent virgins who accomplished mighty works in spite of the high powers of the earth.

An insignificant incident brought Maria to a decision. Her uncle Rodrigo, Marques de Revollar, who was one of the most important magnates of the court of the Pretender, learning of her enkindled faith and the relations which she maintained with the partisans of Catholic monarchy in Nieva, wrote her from Bayonne, asking her if she were ready to serve as intermediary for the correspondence between him and Don Cesar Pardo, president of the Carlist committee. Maria hastened to reply that she should be delighted to do so, and from that time she began frequently to receive letters from her uncle, enclosed in which came others for Don Cesar. These were doubtless the thread by which the Carlist conspiracy of Nieva was connected with the lofty spheres whence the orders emanated. And, without her knowing how, she found herself compromised--and she was not troubled by it--in the cause of the good Christians who, as she frequently heard from the lips of Don Cesar and others, were endeavoring to restore Jesus to his sacred throne, and to rescue him from pride and heresy. Far, as I said, from feeling fear or trouble by it, her courage increased from the danger that she ran, and this was for her a manifest sign that the favor of heaven accompanied her, and she constantly entangled herself more and more in the designs of the conspirators, being present at their meetings and serving them with zeal and enthusiasm to the best of her ability. At the time of Don Cesar's armed expedition she it was who embroidered the standard and the flannel hearts which the defenders of the faith wore, sewed on their waistcoats. The conspirators felt toward her the greatest respect on account of her reputation for sanct.i.ty, and they professed for her deep affection for the enthusiasm with which she burned for the cause. In some of these meetings she was invited to give her opinion, and she did so with such talent and eloquence, she showed so much fire, and at the same time so much discretion in her language, that the conspirators saw in the beautiful young girl an angel sent from G.o.d to sustain their faith and cause them to hold firm in their mighty schemes.

After Don Cesar's abortive attempt the Carlists of Nieva were quite cast down. Maria shed many tears, and besought G.o.d earnestly that He would not allow iniquity and falsehood to prevail against His holy law, and that He would have compa.s.sion on His good soldiers, now banished and persecuted. And, in fact, G.o.d had compa.s.sion, and allowed Don Cesar and the larger part of the young men, who with him had been banished to the _Canary Islands_, to escape in a foreign steams.h.i.+p, and return incognito to their fatherland, where they hid in the houses of their faithful and valorous friends. Thereupon the partisans of tradition recovered their energy and began once more to plot, though it was vaguely and without definite object. The object did not appear for some time, until the heroic and determined Don Cesar suggested the idea of striking an audacious blow which would suddenly give them the means of struggling advantageously with the few troops in the province. This stroke, proposed by the valiant ringleader, was nothing less than to seize the gun factory[59] of Nieva. At first all thought the project a crazy one, but gradually, by dint of thinking the idea over and over, they came to look upon it as less unreasonable, and even began quietly, and with great enthusiasm, to prepare the means for carrying it out. Such being the state of things, Maria, one afternoon, went to the house where Don Cesar was concealed, and asked to speak with him in private. What the damsel said must have been exceedingly important and flattering, for the old ringleader, offering her his hand, and giving her a kiss upon the forehead, replied with trembling voice:--

"My daughter, you are going to be our salvation. G.o.d desires to submit the lot of many brave men to such dainty hands, and who knows if not also the triumph of His cause?"

The young woman retired to her room, where she engaged in prayer for a long time, and then she went down to her mother's apartment. Ricardo soon came in, according to his habit. After a few moments of conversation, Dona Gertrudis went off to sleep, and the two young people retired to a nook in the window to tell each other the sweet every-day secrets, which are sweeter and more delicious the more they are repeated. Maria was preoccupied; her betrothed, with the quickness of one who truly loves, instantly noticed it.

"What ails you to-day?... it seems to me that you are troubled...."

"I feel sad, Ricardo.... I feel sad, as though some misfortune were hurrying on me."

"It's your nerves, which are overtaxed, dear.... Fasts greatly weaken you. You ought to stop them for a while, as well as so many hours of prayer.... You are weakening yourself very much...."

"On the contrary, I have never felt so well as I have lately. It is not my nerves, but a genuine sadness.... It is my soul that suffers, and not my body."

"But have you any reason for being melancholy?"

"I have a presentiment."

"But who cares for presentiments?"

Maria kept silent, and Ricardo also. It was the twilight hour; both gazed steadily out of the window, upon the great plaza of Nieva, surrounded by its arcades, where the boys who had been let out of school were amusing themselves, running and shouting. The sun was already down, leaving above the tiled roof of the town-hall[60] a wide stretch of sky slightly tinted with rose, which took bluish shades toward the zenith, and yellow toward the horizon. The people of the town were hurrying through the streets, attending to the last duties of the day, and enjoying the sweet gloaming. Such an evening was rare. The balconies of the Cafe de la Estrella were occupied by a few customers, who were casting their restless eyes around the plaza. On the balcony of the opposite house a little boy, with blue eyes and light, curly hair, was having a good time with a wooden pipe, blowing soap-bubbles. Several ragam.u.f.fins below, with no little chatter, caught them as they floated down, bursting them with their hats and handkerchiefs.

After a while, Maria turned to her betrothed, and fixing upon him an intense, anxious look, said, with trembling voice,--

"Ricardo, do you love me much?"

"Why do you ask me that question?... Don't you know that I do?"

"Yes, I know that you love me.... You have already given me proof of it ... but in love, as in everything not transitory in this world, there is always a more and less.... Only divine love is infinite.... The love that you bear me has stood certain proofs; who knows if it could stand others?"

"The love which I have for thee," said the young marquis, placing his hand on his heart, "has power to stand all proofs."

"All?"

"All."

"Even if I were to ask you your life?..."

"Bah! bah!" replied the young man, shrugging his shoulders with gesture of disdain, "that would be to ask very little."

Maria smiled with satisfaction, and after a pause, demanded timidly,--

"And if I asked your honor ... or what you men understand by honor?..."

she added, correcting herself.

Ricardo, slightly pale, arose to his feet, and hesitated some time before he replied. At last he said in a low tone, calmly:--

"Honor, my love, is not our own possession; it is a trust which heaven places in our hands at birth, demanding account of it when we die."

A flash of indignation and scorn pa.s.sed through Maria's eyes, as she heard those words.

"And who has told you[61] what heaven grants you or asks of you, and why do you mix heaven with things that oftentimes pertain to h.e.l.l?"

But calming herself in an instant, and giving her words a sweet, persuasive tone, she added:--

"What heaven confides to man at birth nothing can reveal except religion, and religion tells us that man not seldom counts his honor in what he ought to look upon as his ruin and destruction.... Generally what the world most appreciates and thirsts for goes against G.o.d's law.... Therefore we ought to make very little account of this pretended honor with which pride and haughtiness are cloaked. The true honor of the Christian consists only in serving G.o.d, and obeying His holy commands.... Listen, Ricardo.... I asked you if you loved me much for the reason that it was imperative for me to know ... to know with absolute and entire certainty.... I am going to make you a confession, after which, if you are as n.o.ble and have as much faith as I may demand of you, perhaps you will love me more than ever; ... but if your faith is frail and vacillating, and you pay tribute to the frivolous considerations of the world, you will surely love me less, and possibly you will even desert me...."

"Never that!"

"Wait a moment.... Imagine that your betrothed, neglecting and even violating certain rules laid down by society, and overstepping the limits always set for woman, especially when she is an unmarried girl, mingles in actions that are purely masculine; ... for example, in politics, ... and not only mingles in them with thought and word, but actually takes an active part in them. Imagine her to enter into a conspiracy, and work with ardor for the triumph of her cause, ... and put her life or her liberty at stake to accomplish it...."

"What, you?..."

"Yes," replied Maria, with resolution. "I have entered with all my heart into a conspiracy.... I am working with all my might and main for the triumph of the cause of the righteous.... G.o.d knows well that it makes no difference to me whether one set of men or another rule over us, and that no earthly consideration has tempted me to such a step. But I have seen, and I still see religion and the ministry of religion, abused; I see the salvation of many souls endangered, I see every day the divine Jesus and his sweet name made a mockery by the impious men who chance to rule in Spain, wearing a crown of thorns a thousand times more grievous than what he bore at Jerusalem ... and I feel that his eyes implore me and I hear his celestial voice begging me to lift that terrible crown a little.... Do you think that I can weigh against the sublime interests of religion, the safety of my soul, and the glory of Jesus, the childish fear of displeasing the world?"

"I know nothing about it," replied Ricardo, in a dull voice, buried in deep thought.

"You see how I was right! Now that I have confessed to you and told you my secret, your love already grows dim, and you certainly will soon drift away from me and abandon me!"

The young girl's last word caused Ricardo to lift his head quickly. He had a presentiment that something serious was at hand, and he replied in a tone of ill humor,--

"And what is it that has moved you to confide to me all these things, which you have kept so secret till now?"

"Before all, forgive me for not having confided in you before.... They were secrets that did not belong to me.... Besides, I imagined that you would not think as I did, and would raise some objection to my plans....

But now you have greatly changed: you are more religious, and you love the name of Christian which you bear.... Therefore I decided to open my soul entirely before you, and to put into your trusty, honest hands the lives of many n.o.ble-souled men.... I am very weak, Ricardo mio; I am only a poor girl, incapable of struggling and resisting; ... a shadow makes me tremble, ... a word startles me and moves me to the very depths of my being.... My eyes are more accustomed to shed tears than to direct imperious glances, and my hands are folded with more pleasure than they are raised in anger.... I have no cunning to avoid impositions, or fort.i.tude to endure pain.... I can do nothing, ... nothing, ... and I am filled with despair; but thou art brave, thou art n.o.ble, and thou art generous.... I can rely on thee as the bird in the air, and thanks to thee, win heaven.... These moments are supreme for me.... I feel as though I was near the abyss, and I have no power to stay my steps.... If thou dost not reach me out thy hand, thou wilt very soon see me plunging into it.... Ricardo mio, do not abandon me, ... for G.o.d's sake do not abandon me!..."

The young man felt that the danger was nearer than ever, and exclaimed,--

"Let us have it done with at once, Maria. Let us know what it is all about."

"It is about a great act of merit which you can accomplish toward your salvation if you will abandon the wicked suggestions of the world and listen to the invitation of heaven.... In this town there is a mighty weapon which, instead of serving G.o.d, as everything in this world ought to serve Him, is an awful auxiliary of the devil. This weapon is the gun factory...." Maria stopped a moment, and then, casting a frightened look at her lover, continued in a trembling voice: "You can s.n.a.t.c.h this weapon from the evil one and restore it into the hands of G.o.d by delivering it over to the defenders of religion and--"