station, Hyppolito believed he might be induced to receive a rich reward
for conniving at the escape of his prisoners; all the jewellery in his
own possession he had already in thought, devoted to this generous
purpose;--even the brilliant chanfraine which had sparkled round the
brow of his horse when its master was proclaimed victor at a tournament,
and he had ridden up to Blanche to receive her praises and her smiles.
But Don Christopher shewed him the wisdom of keeping these gems as a
fund for future emergency. “I have enough for our purpose:” he said,
“enough to take us into France, and after that, I can offer from myself,
a noble asylum to my royal relation. The fairest and the richest heiress
of Brittany, will bless me with her hand the moment I return to claim
it. Own that I love my King, Don Hyppolito, when I confess that nothing
but his service should have torn me from the feet of my adorable
Adelaide.”
Hyppolito smiled approbation, and returning to the plan for Sebastian’s
escape, continued to converse on that subject, till a neighbouring clock
twice reminded them that they should part. They now separated:
Hyppolito promising to impart the meeting to Kara Aziek, and Don
Christopher expressing a hope, that should he repair at dusk to her
abode, in less lowly attire, she would admit him into her presence.
The interesting circumstances which Hyppolito related to Kara Aziek,
shed a bright light over her long benighted spirit: at the description
of Sebastian’s conduct, and the impressions it produced on all the
beholders, she shed tears of exultation: her life was closing, but could
she preserve his, bestow Blanche upon Don Hyppolito, and obtain their
solemn promise to forget that the blood of Kings flowed in the veins of
their children, she should die happy. Some such prospect now opened on
her, and the ardent language of young Guzman taught her to believe it
near.
Blanche spoke not; though her eyes, (fixed on Hyppolito with such
fulness of love and gratitude, that she thought not what they was
expressing) thrilled through all his frame, awakening a transporting
conviction, that he was exclusively beloved.
No sooner had Don Christopher paid his respectful visit to Kara Aziek,
than the two young men proceeded to commence their attack upon the
honesty, or the compassion, of Haro, captain of the galley. The man was
necessitous and he was humane: both motives rendered him accessible.
Since the recognition of his prisoner by the Duke of Medina, he had
granted to him, (by the Duke’s request) the indulgence of walking over
the vessel with his ancles unfettered: this indulgence might, he
thought, be turned into an apology for his disappearance. Thus free in
his limbs, nothing would be sooner credited than that the wretched
Sebastian had thrown himself into the sea, and perished by a voluntary
death.
Haro proposed that Don Christopher and Don Hyppolito, should come some
midnight under the stern of the vessel, when he would undertake to have
all the slaves, and other officers, either at rest or at a distance; he
alone, watching by Sebastian.
To convey the King privately down the side of the galley into the boat
without discovery, might be difficult, but not impracticable; and the
moment the boat received him and rowed away round the other end of the
galley, Haro was to extinguish his lamp as if by accident, fling some
large substance into the sea loaded with the chains of Sebastian, and by
his outcry bring all the other persons to this end of the ship.
The clank of irons and the descent of a heavy body, might well pass for
the last plunge of the living Sebastian: with a conviction of his
self-murder, the sanguine Hyppolito believed that even Philip himself
would rest satisfied. Should success crown their project, Don
Christopher was to proceed into France with his prize; and as in that
case, Aziek would remain behind, and Blanche be denied the joy of
embracing her father, Hyppolito projected a scheme to attract his mother
into meeting these two friends at a lonely fishing lodge which he
possessed on the coast, only a few leagues off. It would be easy to land
the King there, allow him a few hours conference with his child, and
afterwards depart with him and Aziek for France.
This arrangement was no sooner settled, and Haro put into possession of
half the sum he was to receive in recompense for so important a service,
than he permitted an interview between his captive and the two young
noblemen, who conversing with him apart from the other slaves, (a
circumstance now so frequent that it was not regarded) opened before him
a prospect of freedom and of peace.
Like light suddenly restored to the blind, was this amazing hope to the
soul of Sebastian: touched by the chivalric ardour of two youths to
whom his qualities were so little known, and recalled to the fond wishes
of a father and a husband, he prest his hand on his heart unable to
express in any other way, what was swelling there.
After some moments silence, he uttered a few animated words of gratitude
and gratification, coupled with apprehension for their safety, should he
accept their services, and accident hereafter discover them to the King
of Spain.
Don Christopher declared he risked nothing, since he was already exiled
from his country, and dependant on the favour of the French monarch, to
whom he should return: and Hyppolito laughing at the chimera of a
discovery, braved it as a phantom, protesting his belief that accident
could not develope their share in a transaction to which no other person
than Haro, would be privy.
His tongue, eloquently, though hastily, represented the joy which her
father’s release would bestow on Blanche and on Kara Aziek, whom he
reluctantly confessed to be now in a state, which rendered a peaceful
mind absolutely necessary if they would preserve her life.
At this argument Sebastian lost sight of all other objects, and eagerly
yielded assent. To regain, to preserve her, was it not to regain more
than liberty? and where was the obscure spot in creation, to which he
would not fly for that blessed purpose?
Don Christopher briefly referred him to Haro for the management of his
part of the plot; and in order to silence all the King’s apprehension,
declared his belief that an offer from the French King would allure Haro
into France, where an honourable provision might recompence him for thus
abandoning his country--in such a case, neither Haro nor Don Christopher
need dread being known as the accomplices in Sebastian’s escape, when
the time should arrive in which he would re-appear as a candidate for
Portugal.
Sebastian listened patiently, then sadly smiling, said in a voice of
determination. “Mark me, generous young man! too long have I struggled
against the visible will of Heaven, too long have I sacrificed all that
is nearest and dearest to me, for that enfeebled people who have shewn
themselves rather disposed to clamour against my injuries, than bravely
to arm and redress them. For their sakes I have made shipwreck of all
that was precious unto me: alas! if I may but save one little
remnant--if I may but find some retirement to shelter me and mine, where
we may live and die in happy oblivion--my heart will have attained all
its present wishes. I feel that I have acquitted myself of my duty to
Portugal, and now I abandon her throne for ever.”
“What, Sire!” exclaimed the young Hyppolito in a transport of awakened
hope, “and the amiable Blanche, do you abandon for her, all claim.”
Sebastian’s penetrating eye read the lover’s heart; he smiled
graciously, and pressing his hand, said, “Yes, for her also, I speak:
her safety and her happiness are the sole objects of her father’s
anxiety; and how are they to be secured, save in domestic privacy? Think
of her again, Hyppolito, as you were used to do; forget the Princess of
Portugal, but ever protect and cherish the unpretending Blanche.”
Hyppolito hid his suddenly suffused face upon the hand which he now
carried to his lips; his heart beat with strange and delightful emotion.
Don Christopher earnestly strove to alter the resolution of Sebastian:
the latter was inflexible. “I owe the remainder of my life,” he
observed, “to my family and my friends; the period is too short for us
to waste it in fresh struggles: let us be content Don Christopher to
pass it in tranquillity.”
The captain of the galley now approached, and breaking off their
discourse, the young men hastened to impart the consent they had
obtained, to name the day of their enterprize, and to return to St.
Lucar.
The short interval between this period and that which was to crown or to
blast all their expectations, was spent by the young friends in active
preparation, and by Kara Aziek and her daughter in the most agitating
anxiety. The stimulus thus given to the nerves of Kara Aziek, imparted a
transient hope of returning health: a bright glow was ever on her cheek,
a brighter light for ever in her eye. With a motive for desiring life,
the power of retaining life seemed to be granted; and while she opened
her heart to receive the sanguine anticipations of Blanche and
Hyppolito, they fondly fancied that her hour of danger was passed.
The Duchess Medina Sidonia was wilfully kept ignorant of the important
affair now agitating: Hyppolito secretly resolved to meet the punishment
of his temerity alone, (should any chance discover it to King Philip)
since, if he could solemnly swear and prove that his parents were not
accessary to the act, he justly believed that not even the deadliest
tyrant would dare violate their lives, or their fortunes.
The evening preceding that on which Sebastian was to be carried off,
Aziek and her daughter were removed to the fishing lodge of Hyppolito,
(a lone house almost buried among rocks and thickets) of which only one
purblind domestic had the charge.
Hyppolito suggested this place as more suited to an invalid than a noisy
sea-port, besides which he urged, that his mother, who might not hazard
the singular act of visiting a humble individual in her mean abode,
might safely give them the meeting here, and occasionally come to share
in the pious cares of Blanche.
Satisfied with so natural and considerate an arangement, the Duchess
hastened to embrace the suffering Aziek, whom even this short journey
contributed to enfeeble. Knowing the effect which solicitude too highly
raised, ever produced on her mother, Blanche forbade Hyppolito to
mention the real night of his enterprize; certain that such an
enterprize was on the point of execution, she would in some degree be
prepared for its failure or success, yet being deceived as to the
precise instant would spare her the useless torture of suspence.
Obedient to this judicious injunction, on the very evening of their
plot, the young friends named a succeeding one, and departed for St.
Lucar.
Blanche had now to rouse up the whole force of her spirit to support the
hard task of concealing an agitation which amounted to agony. As she
hung over the couch of her pallid mother, indistinct apostrophe’s to
Heaven, perpetually faltered on her lips, while hiding the flush of her
cheeks and the restless wandering of her eye, from the unconscious
Duchess, she strove to smile and to talk on subjects of trivial
interest.
It was a serene and balmy evening, and as the stars appeared one by one
in the firmament, and the illuminated sea slowly advanced and receded
from the cliffs surrounding the fishing lodge; so much of peace and
beauty pervaded every object, that Kara Aziek felt the scene
tranquillize and renovate her.
“Suffer me to remain here, my child!” she said, (as Blanche hearing the
clock strike ten, would have had her retire to rest) “the sight of these
boundless and sublime objects, seems to elevate and calm my spirit.
Never before have I beheld them with such feelings. How wonderous! how
magnificent, how surpassing all human ideas of nobleness, wisdom, and
goodness, must be that great being by whom they were created! it is fit
I should habituate myself to contemplate and adore that divine
perfection which I may so soon be summoned to adore in the courts of
Heaven.”
Aziek paused, and her eyes floating in sweet though mournful tears,
remained fixed upon the stars. Blanche turned weeping away, and the
Duchess ventured to utter a few words of hope.
Kara Aziek smiled gratefully, shook her head, and repeated in so low a
voice that her words were scarce audible, “I am past hope, and you must
not deceive yourselves: might I but behold my Sebastian once again, know
him safe, and obtain from him one promise, I should die completely
happy.”
Blanche spoke not: she clasped her hands together with convulsive
energy, and her heart only uttered a fervent petition to the Omnipotent
for the success of her lover.
The Duchess seated herself near the couch of the invalid. “And what,
dearest madam!” she said respectfully, “what commands do you leave me
for my future conduct to this dear girl whom I love as I do Hyppolito? a
day must arrive when other affections than filial ones, will arise in
her bosom--how then am I to decide for the Princess of Portugal?”
Kara Aziek withdrew her eyes from above, and fixed them on the Duchess:
the look which they exchanged at that moment, needed no interpreter.
“Decide for her happiness, my kind friend! and let the generous man who
may devote himself to the obscure and untitled Blanche, accept the
blessing of her dying mother, for her dowry. I have nothing else to
bestow.”
Drowned in tears, flowing from various sources, Blanche precipitated
herself by the side of her mother, covering her hands with kisses; the
Duchess resumed, “Such are your sentiments, but what are those of Don
Sebastian? Would not he frown on the presumptuous house of Medina
Sidonia, were they to hazard a wish for uniting their proudest boast,
their brightest hope, with the heiress of Portugal? My Hyppolito feels
far more than a brother’s love for our Blanche; his passion is worthy
its object, for he loved her ere he knew her rank.”
Blanche heard not her mother’s reply, for a loud blast of wind, shaking
the walls of the fishing lodge, made her start up and hurry to the
window. The stars were disappearing under volumes of clouds, which this
sudden wind had driven up from the horizon; extreme darkness was
succeeding to light and beauty:--gloom was favourable to the views of
the adventurers, and Blanche blest the darkness, even while trembling at
the storm.
Kara Aziek and the Duchess continued so long and so earnest in
conversation, that they did not notice the watchful looks of her about
whom they were talking: by degrees the wind fell, and although the stars
were but faintly discernible at intervals, there was still enough light
to guide experienced manners on their road over the waves. Blanche stole
back to her former station, and knelt down by her mother’s couch,
listening to her discourse. She had scarcely placed herself, when the
sound of distant oars grew on the stillness of night. At first, her
limbs lost their power, and she could not rise from her kneeling
posture, but quickly recovering again, she started abruptly up, and
complaining of the sensation of suffocation, opened a door leading down
a slope which terminated on the sands.
Having bounded away with bird-like swiftness, she turned aside among
some rocks which formed a creek for the shelter of small vessels; by the
dim light, she fancied that she perceived a boat afar off: her eyes
remained fixed on the object--the night grew clearer, she saw more
distinctly, and at length became certain that a single boat was
approaching, rowed by two men.
But where was the third? where was her father? it might be, that he was
concealed at the bottom of the little vessel, or that Hyppolito had
failed. The rowers frequently looked behind them, as if afraid of
pursuit, but they made no signal to her.
Blanche leaped upon a high point, and waved her handkerchief; the
boatmen answered only by redoubling their exertions to make the land.
They approached--they moved swifter as they advanced nearer; and the
agitated girl hastening from the cliffs to the sands, eagerly rushed
into the very waves; for now she beheld by the star-light, a human
figure lying at the bottom of the boat.
The voice of Hyppolito warned her of her danger, and the next instant
some one plunged into the water, and springing to shore caught her in
his arms: it was Sebastian himself.
By the same impulse, both father and daughter sunk on their knees in
each other’s embrace; their hearts gushed out at their eyes in silent
gratitude.
Don Christopher hurried to break the joyful news to her, whose patient
suffering had quickened their exertions; and Hyppolito mooring his bark,
flew to share in the happiness he had bestowed.
Rising from the sand, Sebastian now beheld the amiable youth kneeling by
the side of Blanche; he stooped to embrace him also. As he encircled
them both, and pressed their beating hearts together, he fervently
repeated, “I bless you both, my children! may I not say, that I join you
in your father’s arms? would to God that this union may be eternal!”
Transported to ecstacy, Hyppolito hurried forth a crowd of rapturous and
tumultuous expressions, in which Sebastian peculiarly distinguished the
promise of resigning for Blanche, and for her offspring, all pretensions
to dispute the crown of Portugal.
Blanche answered the eager questions of her lover, and the more
temperate inquiry of her father, by sinking her blushing face on the
shoulder of him to whom she was given, and tenderly returning the
pressure of his hand. Hyppolito was in heaven, and forgot for awhile
that the heart-wearied Sebastian was anxiously waiting the re-appearance
of Don Christopher, from whom he was to learn whether Kara Aziek had
strength to bear an interview.
Don Christopher at last appeared; and his countenance shewed how much he
had been affected. Sebastian silently accepted the offer of his
supporting arm, as they turned towards the house, leaving Hyppolito to
lead the tottering steps of Blanche, whom joy, grief, and love, rendered
feeble.
Imagination must picture the solemn and moving scene which took place in
the apartment of Kara Aziek; the tears, the embraces, the broken
exclamations, the fond and distracted perusal of each other’s altered
persons, the alternate bursts of transport and anguish, which succeeded
to this certainty of being restored to each other, and this fear of
being doomed to part for ever.
When a little tranquilized, Kara Aziek desired to be left alone with her
husband, and then she unfolded to him her last wishes for him and their
daughter. Sebastian’s soul had gone on the like track with her’s; she
found that the same events had produced on each the same effects, and
that he was as willing to promise, as she was to exact, a determination
of abandoning every thought of Portugal.
Believed self-destroyed, he was resolved to enter France with Don
Christopher, and retiring to some solitude with her, and such of his
friends as chose to join his retirement, pass his life in such happy
obscurity as they had done at Cachoeira. Though separated from Blanche
by the union to which they destined her, they believed this sacrifice
demanded of them, in gratitude for the services of the Medina Sidonia
family; and since occasional visits from Blanche and Hyppolito, would
enliven their retirement, Sebastian tried to persuade his Aziek that
they might yet find happiness.
“A few brief years,” she said tenderly, “and then my beloved, we _shall_
enjoy it together. I go to prepare a place for thee in that world to
which we have so long accustomed ourselves to look for imperishable
joys! My soul exhausted with suffering, languishes for the rest of
heaven. Shake not thus, my Sebastian--what mortal agony convulses those
dear features? Wouldst thou then retain me in a world like this? O!
rather rejoice that I am going to leave it. Shall I not breathe my last
on thy faithful breast? O blessing! O comfort unutterable!”
Sebastian believed at this moment that she was indeed drawing her latest
breath; for spent with emotion, her heart ceased to beat, and her eyes
closed. He folded her in his arms, and uttering a doleful cry, remained
gazing on her pale face with the stare of madness.
Alarmed by his voice, his friends and daughter rushed in, and finding
that Kara Aziek yet breathed, though almost imperceptibly, they exerted
their influence to persuade him to withdraw awhile.
During their short absence from the apartment, Don Christopher
hesitatingly asked, what measures his King meant to pursue; the vessel
that was to carry them to France, lay at anchor two leagues up the
coast, and as Kara Aziek could not be moved thither, without the
certainty of immediate death, Don Christopher ventured to hint that his
sovereign’s safety could only be secured by his departing with him
alone.
At this friendly suggestion, some of his youthful impetuosity burst from
Sebastian: “What! leave her!” he exclaimed, “My Aziek! my wife! my
life’s comforter! the very soul of all my past happiness!--no, no,
young man. I will stay by her, till heaven restores, or tears her from
me: after that blow, all the world will be nothing to the undone
Sebastian, and Philip may triumph as he will, over this senseless body.
Think of your own safety--I ought to urge you--but my whole soul is
swallowed up in one sad object. You have my thanks for your loving
care--some other time perhaps,”---- Sebastian could not proceed, and
again he returned to the room where he left Kara Aziek.
Recovered by the assistance of the Duchess and Blanche, Kara Aziek had
strength sufficient to assure them that she was better, and believed
herself capable of being removed in any way that was requisite to speed
the departure of her husband. To this assurance, Sebastian replied with
a steady declaration of his late taken resolution, and being joined by
Hyppolito in arguing against the chance of a discovery at a lodge so
little known, when the story of his self-murder would lull inquiry, he
vanquished the reluctance of Kara Aziek to let him remain beside her.
Don Christopher then suggested the prudence of suffering the Duchess to
return to St. Lucar, lest her longer absence should create any
curiosity, and with an unwilling mind, after receiving again Sebastian’s
pledge that he would resign Blanche to Hyppolito, she departed from the
fishing lodge.
For three successive days and nights, Kara Aziek enjoyed the sacred
pleasure of seeing her sick bed attended by the object dearest to her on
earth; whenever she opened her eyes, during the day or the night, still
they met the anxious gaze either of her husband or her daughter.
Hyppolito too, watched her with a son’s tenderness, and the attached
Baptista shared in all their feelings.
Contemplating her husband restored to liberty by the noble youth with
whom Blanche was to unite her destiny, seeing in Don Christopher the
faithful friend that was to repair her loss, and cheer the spirit of
Sebastian, Kara Aziek felt a grateful and placid happiness, which
sweetened the pains of approaching death. How much was there to be
thankful for, in a death thus softened, which otherwise must have
approached in unutterable horror!
She ventured not to repine that her life was prematurely abridged by
late sorrow, since of former felicity, she had enjoyed so large a
portion; and fixing her thoughts on that eternity which would re-unite
her with her husband, she gently yielded to the decay of all her powers.
Like gradual sleep, death stole over her faculties and her feelings; she
lay stretched on a couch, losing by degrees the powers of motion, and of
speech, the faculty of hearing, and of sight.
Sebastian hung over her marble form, speechless, pale, and despairing:
he spoke, and she heard him not; he touched her, and the death-cold
hand that returned not the agonizing grasp of his, convinced him that
she felt not the pressure. But still her closing eyes were directed
towards him, and the heavenly smile that moved her lips, spoke to his
breaking heart of love and better hopes.
Too soon these dim eyes ceased to see the objects before them, her faint
breathing was scarce perceptible,--she breathed only at intervals; at
length her eyelids closed for ever, and she breathed no more!
Blessed close of a virtuous life! what are all the wild transports of
earthly joy, when compared with the mercy of thus “falling asleep” to
wake in Paradise?