"Commingled with the gloom of imminent war
The shadow of his loss drew like eclipse,
Darkening the world."
Nella Northberry was standing alone by the fountain in the hall of her
father's house. The oranges were ripe on the trees, their sweet blossom
was passed, and she herself looked pale, sad, and sullen. She had
scarcely known what made her heart so heavy when her father had told her
that she was to regard Dom Alvarez as her betrothed suitor, receiving
her girlish expressions of unwillingness with entire indifference.
Spirited as Nella was, it could not occur to her to resist her father's
will, or think of disposing of herself in marriage; she knew that it was
impossible, and the girls of her day had generally too little
intercourse with the world before marriage to feel aggrieved at their
absence of choice. Nella's life had not passed quite in accordance with
established rules hitherto, and the fetters galled her.
She stood looking down into the clear waters of the fountain, her tall
slim figure drooping a little with unwonted sadness, and her thoughts
straying tenderly back to England--England, which she should never see
again now. She thought of the grey convent, the wide woodlands now
painted with russet and gold, the fresh autumnal breezes, the cheerful
barking of the dogs at the old Manor house door; and her heart went out
to it all with a passionate yearning that brought the hot tears to her
eyes.
"If Catalina were here, perhaps Dom Alvarez would have liked _her_
best," she thought, "and I might have gone home again." And with this
strange reason for missing her lost sister, the tears came faster, and
she pressed her hands over her eyes.
"Nella?" suddenly said a voice beside her, "does your father tell me
true? Are you indeed betrothed to Dom Alvarez?"
Nella looked up with a start, for beside her stood Harry Hartsed, with a
pale face and heavy eyes, as if he had passed a sleepless night.
"Oh, yes, Harry, it is true!" said Nella.
She turned her head away and cried bitterly, while Harry was dumb for a
moment; for if she had told him that she was married already, there
would hardly have been a greater barrier between them.
It did not occur to Harry to ask her if she loved Dom Alvarez; but he
said, passionately--
"I had hoped one day to go back to the old Devon tower, which must come
to me; and though I never could have made you a great lady, Nell, you
should never have been vexed or crossed, and have had your will always."
"Oh, hush! hush!" said Nella, "hush!"
"Tell me one thing," said Harry; "Dom Alvarez accuses me of a share in
the treason that rained my beloved prince. Do you believe _that_ of
your old playmate!"
Nella turned round, her blue eyes flashing through their tears.
"I would as soon believe it of myself," she said.
"Then I care for no one," cried Harry; "and when my prince comes home,
he will see me righted."
Perhaps it was as well for Nella that her father at this moment came out
of the inner room. She ran up to him, and grasped his hand.
"Father, Harry is no traitor! How dared Dom Alvarez utter such a
falsehood!"
"Leave me to settle that matter, my daughter," said Sir Walter, sternly,
"and go you within. What have you to do with the disputes of these
gentlemen? Your country-breeding makes you too forward, and too free of
tongue."
Nella blushed deeply, and withdrew; but as she curtsied to her father,
she looked for a moment at Harry, and said quickly--
"I shall never believe it!"
In all ages of the world, it is hard for women to sit at home and wonder
how matters are going in the world without, and Nella had no chance of
asking a question as she prepared for her first interview with her
suitor. She was very unhappy, and knew too well that she would not have
been so had Harry Hartsed been in Alvarez's place; but she submitted to
her unusually splendid toilet with a sense that she was submitting to
the inevitable. Only she felt as if the blue brocade weighed down her
young limbs till there was no life left in them, and as if the strings
of pearls were burning their way into her brain.
She waited long after she was dressed, growing more and more weary, till
she began to wonder at the delay. Perhaps Dom Alvarez would not come
to-day after all.
At last, hearing sounds without, she sent one of her maids to inquire if
her father had returned, and in a moment Sir Walter came into the room.
"Alas! my daughter!" he said, "better a widow's coif than all this
bravery! Young Hartsed, whom I renounce for ever, has foully slain
Alvarez!"
"How?" said Nella, in a tone of utter amaze.
"He attacked and challenged him in the public street; they fought, and
Alvarez is wounded well-nigh to death; while Hartsed is put in ward
during the king's pleasure. Now we see his treason plain enough--he
sought to be rid of the witness of it."
"Do not all men fight those who call them traitor?" said Nella, in a low
clear voice.
"Your lady is distracted with the fatal news," said Sir Walter, hastily;
"she knows not what she is saying. See to her, ladies, I have no time
to spare."
With desperate hands Nella unfastened the jewels from her hair, and
helped to cast aside her gay attire; then she sent all the ladies away,
and alone awaited further tidings.
These were not long in coming. Dom Alvarez was severely wounded, but it
was thought that he would recover in time; and after a very hasty
inquiry into the matter, the king sentenced Hartsed to banishment from
Lisbon. It was ill for them all that his strength was failing under
sorrow and suspense, and that Dom Enrique had started on his unhappy
embassage to Arzella.
As it was not thought suitable for Nella to visit the court during the
severe illness of her betrothed, she was not aware of the king's
increasing indisposition, and was not present at Dom Enrique's sad
return, yet she dimly hoped that he might take up the cause of his
brother's favourite. But the news he brought stirred up the whole
nation to a pitch of fury, and preparations for a renewal of the war
were begun on a much larger scale, and with lavish expenditure. The
pride of Portugal was touched to the quick, and the king reduced his
private expenses, and gave all he could save to the common object. The
winter and spring passed in arming and planning the campaign. Nella's
affairs were in abeyance. Harry Hartsed was gone, no one knew whither;
and Dom Alvarez, on recovering from his wound, left Lisbon for change of
air, and was to join the army with Sir Walter. All the talk was of hope
and revenge, only the king's face was unchangeably sorrowful.
One evening, shortly before the expedition was to start, Duarte was
lying on a couch in his private room, resting from the fatigue of a long
day in council. Beside him sat Enrique, who, with Joao, was to command
the army, Dom Pedro being needed at home in the king's weak state.
"Enrique," said Duarte, breaking a long silence, "ere we part, I would
tell you my mind on certain matters."
"I will never cross your will again, my brother," said Enrique, humbly.
"I have thought much and long," said Duarte, with his grave gentleness.
"This war is good,--justified by the conduct of the Moors to our beloved
one. But, if it fails, I have written in my will that Ceuta must be
ceded to them, and, to my thinking, it was our duty to have abided by
our word. I was slow plainly to see this, but in this long sickness my
eyes have grown clearer. Our Blessed Lord knows the souls in Ceuta
which are His own, and would guard them through the fiery persecution
which the failure of our arms would have brought on them. Maybe He
would have allowed us to deliver them from it. It shows the faith of
the blessed Cross in a poor light to the heathen when Christian men
break plighted faith. And yet, Enrique, though as I lie here on soft
cushions, with all things easy round me, I seem verily to feel _his_
rough usage, taste _his_ hard fare, it goes harder with me to pluck that
jewel out of my father's crown, and give it back to the darkness whence
he won it, than to see my Fernando win a martyr's crown."
"I shall never raise my voice against your will," said Enrique. "Daily,
with prayer and penance, I entreat that Ceuta and Fernando both may yet
be saved to us. If Ceuta goes, there is nothing for me who lost it but
to vow myself to a life of penitence, and till Fernando is safe, there
is no joy on earth for me."
"Take heart, my Enrique," said Duarte, tenderly. "If you have risked
Ceuta, you have won wide lands to Portugal and to the Church; and
remember, it is to you and Pedro I confide my son."
"Alas, Duarte, there would be no hope for church or country without you
at the helm."
"As God wills," said Duarte, and words and tone vividly brought Fernando
before Enrique's mind.
And before many days were over the stroke fell; and, as some say, of an
attack of the plague, which he was too weak to resist, as others tell,
of the long strain of grief and responsibility, the just and gentle
Duarte died, of whom all agree that he never uttered a harsh word, nor
committed an unrighteous action.
"A selfless man and stainless gentleman,
Who reverenced his conscience as his king."
He died, and with his life all the preparations for war fell to pieces,
and came to an end. Portugal was plunged into a wild chaos of dispute
and mis-government; the three remaining princes passed out of the clear
following of clear aims that had marked their youth, into the wretched
conflict, half-good, half-evil, of hand-to-hand fighting, with the
necessities of every-day, till they hardly knew for what they were
striving. There were miserable differences and cabals between the
widowed Queen and Dom Pedro, who yet strove to act honourably by her;
wild, mad accusations against these loving brothers of having poisoned
Duarte, for whom either of them would gladly have died, a world of wrong
and worry, from which they could not escape.
With the rights and wrongs of that unhappy story, a sadder one perhaps
than the fatal siege of Tangier, we have now no concern; but some
strange change must have passed over the mind of the nation, for no
other effort was ever made to rescue Fernando. To all seeming, his
country forgot him, as Harry Hartsed was forgotten. But Enrique, when
in the intervals of his wretched life at court he went to gaze over the
wide Atlantic, and plan how to penetrate its mysteries, prayed for the
unknown suffering of his beloved brother, while Nella Northberry added
to her prayers the name of another loved and lost one.