"Where bells make Catholic the trembling air."
Royal prince though he was, Fernando had never slept under such
embroidered coverlets, nor seen such hangings of gold and silver, such
carving and fretwork, as met his waking eyes in the dawn of the new day.
The horseshoe arch of the window framed a piece of deep blue sky,
against which a gilded dome, surmounted by a crescent, glittered in the
morning sun.
Fernando sat upright and devoutly crossed himself, with a thrill of joy,
as he thought how soon that symbol of evil would give place to the
golden cross brought with them so carefully from Lisbon for the purpose.
Presently he became aware that Enrique, still fully dressed but with
the heavier parts of his armour removed, was lying asleep near the
window, his long limbs extended on a coverlet of pink and silver, as if
he had thrown himself down, wearied with his day of fighting. As
Fernando looked round the room he heard an extraordinary chattering and
screaming, a noise quite unknown to him, and, not having any confidence
in the character of his surroundings, he began to feel frightened. What
powers of evil might not lurk amid those unnatural splendours! Joao was
in the next room, and Enrique slept through the increasing clatter,
which actually sounded like spoken words in an unknown tongue; and yes,
a peal of horrible mocking laughter apparently just over his head.
Fernando could bear it no longer. He jumped up and seized his brother's
arm.
"Enrique--Enrique, wake up! I think the foul fiend is in this room?"
"Fernando, hark! there is some Moorish devilry here!" and Joao, looking
quite pale with alarm, peeped out of the inside chamber, then fled to
Enrique as a refuge. The latter awoke, considerably surprised to feel
his little brothers pulling at each arm, and as they had considered it
their duty, as soldiers in war-time, to go to bed in their clothes, with
their long hair rumpled and their dress disordered, they presented
rather a startling aspect.
"What ails you both?" cried Enrique.
"Enrique, listen! it is certainly the devil."
Enrique sat up and looked round, and presently began to laugh heartily
himself. "There are your foul fiends," he said, painting to some
carving over the window, where were perched two huge green and scarlet
birds with hooked bills, the like of which the boys had never seen
before.
"Are they birds?" said Joao, slowly.
"Yes, they are parrots," said Enrique. "Once, when I went to the Court
of Castile, I saw such a one that the King of Granada had sent as a
present to my aunt Catalina. Moreover I have read of them in the
writings of the ancients. They were sent formerly from Africa to Rome,
and these are doubtless favourites of the ladies of this house. For I
suspect we are in the ladies' chamber."
"But it is wonderful--they laugh," said Joao.
"Ay, and speak, though not in our tongue. There are wonderful things in
the world that we know not of."
"Well," said Joao, "since no one can tell _what_ there may be in these
Infidel places, _I_ came to take care of Fernando."
"Indeed," said Enrique; "I thought you woke me to take care of you.
However 'tis small blame to you to have been puzzled."
Joao, not finding an answer ready, applied himself to trying to catch
the parrots, and pursued them on to the balcony, while Enrique looked
thoughtfully and curiously round the strange scene which he had entered
in the dark two or three hours before. Presently he looked at Fernando,
and smiled.
"So," he said, "Ceuta, praise be to God, is ours, fortress and all, for
Zala-ben-Zala fled in the night, and before I came here Duarte and Pedro
were there in command. It was your words, Fernando, that set us on this
track."
Fernando blushed deeply. "Enrique," he said, "I am not a good
Christian, and I shall never be like the holy martyrs."
"Why not!" said Enrique. "I do not wonder that the chattering parrot
frightened you."
"No; but I thought I would do anything in the world to win Ceuta to be a
Christian city, and the day our mother was buried, while we knelt in the
abbey at Batalha, I made a vow that I would give up my life to convert
the Infidel, to win the world back to holy Church."
"I think," said Enrique, "that you are too young to make vows save with
your confessor's permission, or what holy Church ordains for you."
"That is what Father Jose said, when I told him what I had done. He
bade me prepare myself by prayer and obedience for whatever life God
might send me. But I did make the vow, Enrique, and I shall keep it. I
thought--and this is what I want to tell you--that it would be quite
easy, for I thought I cared more about it than about anything in the
world."
"Well," said Enrique, as Fernando paused, faltering, but with his great
ardent eyes fixed on his brother, "surely it is not now in the hour of
triumph that you change your mind?"
"No; but dear Enrique, when I thought you dead, I did not care at all
about Ceuta: I would have given it back to save you! Was that wrong?"
How little Enrique thought, as he listened with tender indulgence to his
little brother's troubled conscience, with what awful force that
question would one day ring in his own ears. Now he put it aside.
"If we were fighting side by side, Fernando, we should not hold each
other back; but if it were easy to imitate the holy martyrs, they would
the less have deserved their crowns. If we would seek any object
earnestly, we most count the cost. But it was ill-managed that you
should have had such an alarm. Never heed it. I am safe, and Ceuta
_is_ ours, and _will_ be a Christian city soon. And now I must go to
make all due arrangements; for we must confess our sins and prepare
ourselves for the knighthood that is to come at last."
Fernando looked after him with admiring envy, as he pictured to himself
a future day, when he and Joao should head such another expedition, and
be themselves the heroes of it. But all vain-glorious thoughts received
a rebuke when he heard Duarte and Pedro petition their father, that
since Enrique had certainly distinguished himself the most in the
attack, he might receive the honour of knighthood _first_, before his
elder brothers.
The King replied that he owed so much to his son Enrique, that he was
willing to grant this request; but Enrique refused, saying that the
rights of seniority should be respected; he would rather be knighted in
his turn after his brothers.
So the next morning beheld a wonderful and glorious sight. Over the
fortress of Ceuta hung the Portuguese colours; instead of the Crescent
on the great mosque was to be seen a golden Cross. Within all traces of
the Mohammedan ritual had been swept away, an altar which, with all its
furniture, had been brought from Lisbon, was erected, and instead of the
turbans and the bare feet of the Mussulman worshippers were the clanking
spurs and uncovered heads of the Christians; while, most wonderful of
all, the sweet peal of Catholic bells for the first time woke the echoes
of the Moorish city. [A fact.] For the conquerors had actually
discovered, stowed away in the mosque, a peal of imprisoned bells,
doubtless carried off from some sea-side church by the pirates of Ceuta.
Then after high Mass had been duly performed, with all the ceremony
possible under the circumstances, one by one, Duarte, Pedro, and Enrique
stepped forward, and were knighted by their father before the altar of
the new Christian church. Nobly had their desire been fulfilled; they
had proved their courage, and in a noble cause.
All this time bands of Moorish people were pouring unmolested out of the
gates of the city, great numbers choosing rather to go than to stay; and
in the darkness, when the gates were closed, they came back and beat
wildly against them with outcries of anguish and despair.
"Oh, why will not they stay and become Christians?" cried Fernando,
bursting into tears, as he listened to their lamentations.
"That is not to be expected," said Enrique; "but now we have drawn their
fangs for them. More than half their detestable privateers sailed from
this port. It is in our hands, and we can penetrate into the unknown
world beyond, and from hence send out missionaries among the people.
That is what I mean to do."
"All is not gained by the taking of Ceuta," said Fernando, dreamily.
"No," returned Enrique, "we cannot gain in a day objects which need the
devotion of our lives."