The Marquis Of Penalta Part 26

Maria stopped a second time, and looked with horror at the livid, contracted face of the young marquis, who grasped her by the arm, and shaking her violently, roared, rather than spoke:--

"Who suggested to you the idea of proposing _that_ to me?... Answer me.... Who was the vile, low wretch who advised you to do it?... I'll go myself this very instant and tear out his tongue for him! Tell me, tell me, Maria!... This thought never originated with you.... You couldn't have supposed that your lover, the Marquis of Penalta, the descendant of so many n.o.ble gentlemen, a soldier of honor and loyalty, could calmly listen to such a proposition!... You could not have imagined that the man who adored you was a cowardly traitor, whom his comrades would justly laugh to scorn!... Only thus can I pardon the horrible words which you have just spoken.... Listen for G.o.d's sake, Maria.... Just now my brain is on fire and my heart is frozen.... I hear within me a voice which prophesies a great misfortune.... Yet still, at this moment I tell thee that I love thee with all my soul.... Even to the point of giving my life for thee gladly; ... but if this love which I have for thee were multiplied a thousand-fold, and were not to be gratified in this world, I would crush it, I would blot it out as a light is blotted out,--with a breath,--and I would remain all my life long in darkness sooner than consent to such villany.... What am I saying?... If G.o.d himself came down to propose that to me, and threatened me with the eternal torments of h.e.l.l, I would refuse.... I would prefer to be d.a.m.ned with the loyal than be saved with traitors."

Maria hung her head in consternation. After some little time she succeeded in saying in a weak voice:--

"You do not understand me, Ricardo, nor do I understand you any better.

In judging of the things of this world we put ourselves at very opposite points of view: you look through the gla.s.s of the conventions established by men, and I only through that of the law of G.o.d. For you the renown of bravery, the reputation of being loyal and n.o.ble, is the first thing; for me the main thing is the salvation of my soul....

Pardon me if I have offended you, and let this _honor_ which you wors.h.i.+p so fervently serve you to forget forever what we have been talking about."

Ricardo gave the girl a long, sad look. He had just learned once and for all that that woman could never be his; that he held only a very subordinate place in that idolatrous heart, so full of mysterious sentiments, grand and sublime, perhaps, but incomprehensible for him. A tear sprang into his eyes and rolled tremblingly down his cheeks.

"You are right, Maria.... I don't understand you.... My father was a man of honor, and he also could not have understood you.... My grandfather was a soldier who lost his life in the defence of his country, and he, too, would not have understood you any better.... But my father and my grandfather would have felt insulted, as I feel insulted, that any one should remind them that they ought to keep secrets confided to them."

Both maintained a protracted silence, gazing sadly through the panes upon the great plaza of Nieva, which began to be concealed under the gathering shades of night. The pa.s.sers-by were going to their homes with slow and lazy gait. A few lights were already burning in the depths of the houses. The ragam.u.f.fins, who had been laboriously catching the soap-bubbles sent out to them by the boy in the opposite house, had disappeared, and he, tired of blowing through his pipe, finally flung it to the ground together with his bowl of soap-suds, and set himself making faces at Ricardo and Maria; but they, solemn and motionless, paid no attention, as on other occasions, and the child, surprised to find them so serious, likewise remained motionless, staring at them with his bright, beautiful, cherub eyes.

CHAPTER XIII.

IN WHICH ARE TOLD THE LABORS OF A CHRISTIAN VIRGIN.

The general commander kept by the fickle Spanish republic in the province of * * * was a good deal of a barbarian,--be it said without intention of hitting him too hard, for every man has the right to be as much of a barbarian as he finds consistent with sound morals and good habits. The first thing that he did, as soon as it was breathed to him that the Carlists of Nieva were getting ready for a surprise (_algarada_, battering-ram, was what he called it), and intended nothing less than to get possession of the gun factory, was to summon the commandant Ramirez and say to him:--

"Within an hour you must start for Nieva with two companies, together with the inspector of police, and as soon as you get there, you arrest and bring to me lashed arm to arm--do you understand?--lashed arm to arm, all the individuals who are put down on this paper."

"'Tis well, my brigadier!"

"It will not need more than half a company to guard them. You, with the rest of the force, put yourselves under command of the colonel-director until I make other arrangements."

"'Tis well, my brigadier!"

As the commandant Ramirez, having made his salute, was going out of the office door, the brigadier called him back,--

"Harkee, Ramirez, how did I tell you to bring the prisoners?"

"Lashed arm to arm, my brigadier."

"Correct; G.o.d go with you!"

The night on which the two companies reached Nieva was the one chosen by Don Cesar's friends to sound the battle-cry and seize the factory. The conspiracy was well planned. At one o'clock in the morning fifty men were to meet in the garden of a rich Carlist proprietor, and fifty more in the wine-cellar of another, to arm and equip themselves. At two precisely they were all to march against the factory, the guard of which, at this time under command of the young Marques de Penalta, did not exceed twenty-five men, and attack it ostensibly at the doors, while others should scale the walls in the rear. Once inside they would quickly seize upon the arms already manufactured, loading them upon mules which were in readiness, set fire to the workshops, and haste away from the town. In case they should be attacked, they expected to raise easily five or six hundred men well provided with arms and ammunition.

Don Cesar had no doubt of the success of his enterprise, but the cursed bird[62] traditional in all conspiracies, past and to come, upset the brave caballero's project. At eleven o'clock that evening the commandant Ramirez and the inspector of police had possession of all the individuals of the committee, and ten or a dozen of the most outspoken Carlists of Nieva, who, tied together and under the guard of half of a company, according to the orders of the general commander, were under the arcade of the town-hall, waiting the order of march. The only woman among these was Maria. In vain did Don Mariano, with tears in his eyes, beg the leader of the force to let him take her in a carriage. The commandant Ramirez declared that he was deeply grieved at not being able to gratify him, and that the only thing that he could do, out of respect for him, was to give her parole-leave and wait a few moments until she procured thick footwear and suitable outside garments, though to do this exposed him to the wrath of the brigadier who ... (and here the commandant Ramirez employed the term which we have already had the honor of applying to him).

At last the order was given, and the lieutenant set out on the march with the prisoners. Don Mariano would not leave his daughter. Though it did not rain at that particular moment, the night was very damp and the roads truly abominable, as was proved by the spatterdashes of the soldiers. In the town almost everybody was aware of what was going on, and many dark, silent forms filled the balconies, straining their eyes to see the prisoners pa.s.s by. As they went through a certain street, an angry female voice cried from a balcony,--

"Villains, you will pay for all these things in h.e.l.l!"

The soldiers lifted their heads and dropped them again, silently proceeding on their march, the measured sound of which inspired melancholy and fear. They all felt on their caps a steady broadside of looks of hatred, which, notwithstanding their innocence, they received with the resignation of those accustomed to suffering injustice. They soon left the last houses of the town and entered the high-road, the first stretches of which were adorned with lofty poplars. The sky was still dark and thick, wrapping the earth in darkness. Scarcely could they see the trunks of the neighboring trees, or the shapes of the houses or farm buildings along the roadside. The feet of the company no longer produced the sharp clatter which they made when they were walking over the paved streets, but a m.u.f.fled sound still more sad. The lieutenant, a pretty good-natured young fellow of twenty, ordered the soldiers to march in parallel columns, with the prisoners in the middle.

Then he approached the latter, and asking them if he could do anything for them, apologized courteously for taking them bound together, but they must understand that the brigadier was somewhat of a ... (the young lieutenant made use of the same expression which his commandant, and we as well, has already applied to him). The prisoners muttered their thanks and relapsed into a dignified silence. Soon it began to rain furiously. Don Mariano, who had not exchanged a word with his daughter, hastily spread his umbrella to shelter her, and held her long pressed to his heart, whispering in her ear:--

"My daughter, what a bitter trial you are giving me!... Wrap yourself up well!... Are you cold? oh, that obstinate brute shall answer me for this!... I will go to Madrid and see the Minister of War, and have him sent to prison!... Does the rain reach you anywhere, sweetheart mine[63]? Do you want my waterproof?... To send and have my daughter pinioned!... Oh, the confounded pig! in what sty did this farcical government find him!... If you get sick, I will kill him without a moment's hesitation.... But you, silly girl, who inveigled you into this pack of conspirators without my permission?... If I had not let you wander about so much among these churches, you would not at this time be suffering such trials.... What have you to do with Carlists or with Republicans?... A well-educated girl stays quietly at home, looking after her father's s.h.i.+rts and knitting stockings.... Do you hear?...

knitting stockings!... The beast! wretch! to send and take my daughter pinioned!... If I see him, I won't promise not to seize him by the throat...."

"Calm yourself, papa, ... calm yourself, for Heaven's sake. I am perfectly comfortable.... When one suffers for G.o.d the suffering is turned into pleasure.... Never did I feel better than at this moment ...

and it is because I feel in my soul the consolation of having done something to restore Jesus to his holy kingdom.... The only thing that makes me suffer, is to see you unhappy.... Ay! papa, what wouldn't I give to have your faith as living and ardent as mine, so that you would despise all the pains of earth, and march calm and content, as I am marching, whither G.o.d may wish to take me!"

Don Mariano felt a torrent of sharp, angry words choking him, but he could not give them utterance. All that he did was to wrap his waterproof around his daughter, emitting a sort of grunt significantly eloquent.

It ceased to rain at last. A slight breath of south-west wind made itself felt, and the thick mantle over the sky began to thin away, letting through a slender, feeble light which brought out the silhouettes of the soldiers, and the trees, and the enormous forms of the mountains girding the valley. The silence in the band was sepulchral. The prisoners exchanged not a single word, devouring their rage and grief. In the country, likewise, was heard none of those pleasant sounds that increase the mystery of the night, and fill the soul with soft melancholy. Only as they pa.s.sed in front of some house, they heard within the threatening bark of a dog, protesting against the march of troops at such an unusual hour, and, now and then, the no less gentle muttering of Sergeant Alcarez as he cursed the night, and his luck, and the mother who bore him.

The wind kept blowing stronger and stronger, a soft, moist wind which the prisoners took to be of sufficiently evil import. The trees, lining the sides of the road, twisted, as though in agony, scattering all the rain drops with which they were laden. In the feeble light of the sky the forms of the huge, black clouds began to appear, rus.h.i.+ng swiftly through the air, as though closely pursued by some monster of the night.

Back of these clouds the faint blue of the firmament could not be seen, but a thick mantle of gray, seemingly impenetrable. Nevertheless, the wind, still increasing in violence, began at last to rupture it in a few places, making beautiful rifts, in the depths of which could be seen the soft lightning of some star. The great, black clouds swept over them, and blotted them out, but the mantle was constantly rifted again in other places, and the little stars once more tipped friendly winks to the earth. At last a great burst of silvery light suddenly bathed the whole landscape: the moon had come out between two clouds, fair and splendid as a virgin who opens the windows of her apartment. But hardly had she cast one look of curiosity at our band, when the rude clouds drew together, binding a fillet over her eyes, and leaving the earth gloomy and dark. Again she appeared on high, and once more she was hidden, as she saw a hurrying legion of clouds of every form and shape, flying to unknown regions, pa.s.s before her face. In the s.p.a.ce of half an hour, she presented and hid herself an incredible number of times, seeming to the eyes of the pilgrims like a s.h.i.+p ready to sink in some restless, stormy ocean.

Finally the tempest of the sky grew calm. Slowly the thick cloud ma.s.ses, which spotted the face of the sky, had disappeared behind the mountains. A few, which still remained, and at long intervals, pa.s.sing across the moon, left the earth in darkness, likewise hid the mountain-peaks. And the sky was left clear and bright, spreading out its dark mantle adorned with stars. The moon traced a luminous circle around her, in which, like a haughty queen, she let no other star shed his light. The wide valley seemed to quiver gently with joy at feeling the kiss of her silvery beams, and sent forth from the orange groves, and the quiet streams, and the white hamlets scattered here and there, millions of reflections vanis.h.i.+ng with gentle mystery in the air. In some places great, luminous sheets stretched out, where could be seen with wonderful clearness the outlines of trees and fences; in others, cl.u.s.tered shadows, guarding the dreams of flowers. The broad valley, when thus illumined, had the semblance of a sleeping lake.

After tramping along for a considerable time through the midst of the valley, our band struck into the mountains girting it. It was necessary to cross them to reach the plain surrounding * * *. The highway followed the most accessible places, skirting the side of one of the mountains with a pretty decided slope. The horizon widened wonderfully. As they began to climb, the lieutenant commanded a halt before a huge tavern, situated near the highway, and sending to the landlord obliged him to arise and provide his people with food. The prisoners went into the house and rested some time. Then they set forth once more, calmly climbing the sharp declivity.

The exuberant vegetation of the valley had ceased. The mountains, which constantly shut them in closer, leaving barely room for the highway, were clad only in ferns. From time to time they came upon the opening of some coal mine, dug near the road. Don Mariano could not resist the temptation of talking about the railway to Nieva, and he approached the lieutenant and showed him where the line from Sotolonga was going, explaining in full the advantages which it had over the line from Miramar. The pathway was now considerably drier on account of the hillside, and the moon from on high still lighted up the way, and fixed her sweet, calm gaze on the pilgrims. The notes of a guitar were heard.

When did the guitar ever cease to sound during a march of Spanish soldiers? And a voice of heroic timbre sang in the accents of the South:--

"_Como cosita propria_ _Te miraba yo_ _Te miraba yo;_ _Pero quererte como te queria_ _Eso se acabo_ _Eso se acabo._"

Four or five soldiers scattered here and there likewise showed their southern origin by shouting at the end of the strophe, _Ole, ole!_ That song, born in the warm soil of Andalucia, was a magic wand which banished sadness from all hearts. The stern mountains, as though possessed by a sudden sympathy, re-echoed the soldier's voice, carrying it far away across its gorges and ravines. Lively conversation arose in the company, stopping every time that the Andalusian soldier struck up a new verse. The prisoners persisted in their obstinate silence. All marched negligently, with mouths open, instinctively enjoying the favorable change which the night had undergone. Suddenly, as they were doubling one of the numerous turns in the road, in the roughest part of the divide, the report of a musket was heard. A soldier dropped to the ground. Almost at the same time the portentous cry of _Viva Carlos Septimo!_ was hurled into s.p.a.ce. Lifting their heads, all saw at no great distance, standing on one of the rocks commanding the road, a man with long, white mustachios, dressed in a sheepskin _zamarra_ and Basque cap.[64] The prisoners instantly recognized in him the president of the committee, Don Cesar Pardo. The lieutenant ordered the men to close up, fearing an ambuscade, and gave the command to fire; but the volley had no result. When the smoke cleared away Don Cesar was still seen calmly reloading his gun. As he fired it, he cried again with still more fury,--

"_Viva Carlos Septimo!_"

"May the lightning strike you, you old fox; you have spoiled my arm for me," exclaimed Sergeant Alcarez, raising his hand to the wound.

"Second column, aim! fire!" shouted the lieutenant.

This time there was no better result. Don Cesar fired again, crying,--

"_Viva la religion!_"

Then the lieutenant angrily gave the command,--

"Fire as you please!"

An incessant crackling of musketry followed from the half company, drawn up in battle array; but the solitary enemy neither retreated nor fell.

Standing on the rock, without even deigning to shelter himself behind it, he steadily loaded and fired his musket, always repeating in a terrible voice,--

"_Viva Carlos Septimo! Viva la religion!_"

He rarely fired without causing some loss in the company. The moon illuminated his proud, fierce face loaded with wrinkles, giving it a fantastic appearance. His eyes gleamed like those of a madman, and his tall, l.u.s.ty frame stood forth in the luminous atmosphere, like that of a supernatural being who had come down to punish offences committed against heaven.

"Do you know me, republicans, do you know me?" he cried, without ceasing to fire. "I am Don Cesar Pardo, an old Christian and a Carlist from head to foot."