The Spanish Jade Part 19

Sister Chucha looked at her hands--fat and very white hands. "You ask me to do a great deal--to incur a great danger--for a gentleman who is nothing to me."

"He is everything to Manuela," said Gil softly. "That you know."

"And you, Gil Perez--what is he to you?" This was Sister Chucha's sharpest. Gil took it with a blink.

"He is my master--that is something. He is more to Manuela. And she is everything to me. Sister, you may trust me with her."

The nun turned from him to the motionless beauty by her side.

"You, my child, what do you say to this project? Shall I let you go?"

Manuela wavered a little. She swayed about and balanced herself with her hands. But she quickly recovered.

"Sister Chucha," she said, "let me go." The soft green light from her eyes spoke for her.

CHAPTER XX

MEETING BY MOONLIGHT

By moonlight, in the sheeted park, four persons met to do battle for the life of Mr. Manvers, while he lay grumbling and burning in his bed, behind the curtains of it. Don Luis Ramonez was there, the first to come--tall and gaunt, with undying pride in his hollow eyes, like a spectre of rancour kept out of the grave. Behind him Tormillo came creeping, a little restless man, d.o.g.g.i.ng his master's footsteps, watching for word or sign from him. These two stood by the lake in the huge empty park, still under its shroud of white moonlight.

Don Luis picked up the corner of his cloak and threw it over his left shoulder. He stalked stately up and down the arc of a circle which a stone seat defined. Tormillo sat upon the edge of the seat, his elbows on his knees, and looked at the ground. But he kept his master in the tail of his eye. Now and again, furtively, but as if he loved what he feared, he put his hand into his breast and felt the edge of his long knife.

Once indeed, when Don Luis on his sentry-march had his back to him, he drew out the blade and turned it under the moon, watching the cold light s.h.i.+ver and flash up along it and down. Not fleck or flaw was upon it; it showed the moon whole within its face. This pair, each absorbed in his own business, waited for the other.

Tormillo saw them coming, and marked it by rising from his seat. He peered along the edge of the water to be sure, then he went noiselessly towards them, looking back often over his shoulder at Don Luis. But his master did not seem to be aware of anyone. He stood still, looking over the gloomy lake.

Tormillo, having gone half way, waited. Gil Perez hailed him. "Is that you, Tormillo?" The m.u.f.fled figure of a girl by his side gave no sign.

"It is I, Gil Perez. Be not afraid."

"If I were afraid of anything, I should not be here. I have brought Manuela of her own will."

"Good," said Tormillo. "Give her to me. We will go to Don Luis."

"Yes, you shall take her. I will remain here. Senorita, will you go with him?"

Manuela said, "I am ready."

Tormillo turned his face away, and Gil Perez with pa.s.sion whispered to Manuela.

"My soul, my life, Manuela! One sign from you, and I kill him!"

She turned him her rapt face. "No sign from me, brother--no sign from me."

"My life," sighed Gil Perez. "Soul of my soul!" She held him out her hand.

"Pray for me," she said. He s.n.a.t.c.hed at her hand, knelt on his knee, stooped over it, and then, jumping up, flung himself from her.

"Take her you, Tormillo."

Tormillo took her by the hand, and they went together towards the semicircular seat, in whose centre stood Don Luis like a black statue.

Soft-footed went she, swaying a little, like a gossamer caught in a light wind. Don Luis half-turned, and saluted her.

"Master," said Tormillo, "Manuela is here." As if she were a figure to be displayed he lightly threw back her veil. Manuela stood still and bowed her head to the uncovered gentleman.

"I am ready, senor Don Luis," she said. He came nearer, watching her, saying nothing.

"I killed Don Bartolome, your son," she said, "because I feared him.

He told me that he had come to kill me; but I was beforehand with him there. It is true that I loved Don Osmundo, who had been kind to me."

"You killed my son," said Don Luis, "and you loved the Englishman."

"I own the truth," she said, "and am ready to requite you. I thought to have satisfied you by giving myself up--but you have shown me that that was not enough. Now then I give you myself of my own will, if you will let Don Osmundo go free. Will you make a bargain with me? He knew nothing of Don Bartolome, your son."

Don Luis bowed. Manuela turned her head slowly about to the still trees, to the sleeping water, to the moon in the clear sky, as if to greet the earth for the last time. For one moment her eyes fell on Gil Perez afar off--on his knees with his hands raised to heaven.

"I am ready," she said again, and bowed her head. Tormillo put into Don Luis' hands the long knife. Don Luis threw it out far into the lake. It fled like a streak of light, struck, skimmed along the surface, and sank without a splash. He went to Manuela and put his hand on her shoulder. She quivered at his touch.

"My child," said he, "I cannot touch you. You have redeemed yourself.

Go now, and sin no more."

He left her and went his way, stately, along the edge of the water. He stalked past Gil Perez at his prayers as if he saw him not--as may well be the case. But Gil Perez got upon his feet as he went by and saluted him with profound respect.

Immediately afterwards he went like the wind to Manuela. He found her crying freely on the stone seat, her arms upon the back of it and her face hidden in her arms She wept with pa.s.sion; her sobs were pitiful to hear. Tormillo, not at all moved, waited for Gil Perez.

"_Esa te quiere bien que te hace llorar_," he said: "She loves thee well, that makes thee weep."

"I weep not," said Gil Perez; "it is she that weeps. As for me, I praise G.o.d."

"Aha, Gil Perez," Tormillo began--then he chuckled. "For you, my friend, there's still sunlight on the wall."

Gil nodded. "I believe it." Then he looked fiercely at the other man.

"Go you with G.o.d, Tormillo, and leave me with her."

Tormillo stared, spat on the ground. "No need of your 'chuck chuck' to an old dog. I go, Gil Perez. _Adios, hermano_."

Gil Perez sat on the stone seat, and drew Manuela's head to his shoulder. She suffered him.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Inside back cover art (left side)]