"I wonder if the spring-tide of this year
Will bring another spring both lost and dear;
If heart and spirit will find out their spring,
Or if the world _alone_ will bud and sing."
It was a bright sunny day in December, fresh enough to make the
Sevillanos pull their picturesque cloaks over their shoulders out of
doors, and light scraps of wood-fire in their sitting-rooms, but with
the sun pouring down in unveiled splendour over quaint painted relics of
a bygone world, when the Moor employed his rich fancy in decorating the
city, and over dark Gothic arches and towers that seemed to tell of a
life almost equally remote from nineteenth-century England. It was a
very new sort of Christmas weather for Jack Lester as he tried to find
his way from the railway station to Don Guzman de la Rosa's house. He
soon discovered that he had lost it, and stopped by a fruit-stall piled
with grapes, oranges, and melons to ask the brown, skinny old woman in a
gay handkerchief who kept it, for some directions, hoping that she would
at least understand the name of the street. So she did, but it seemed
to him that she pointed in every direction at once, and Jack stared
round bewildered as a young lady stepped across the street towards the
fruit-stall. Jack looked at her and she looked full at him from under
her straw hat, with a pair of eyes dark as any in Andalusia, but direct
and clear, level and fearless, as her face broke into a smile just saved
from a laugh.
"If you are looking for Don Guzman de la Rosa's," she said in distinct
and comprehensible English, "I can direct you; but your brothers, Mr
Lester, are much nearer, at my father's, Mr Stanforth's. Will you come
there with me when I have bought some fruit?"
"Oh, thank you immensely! I--I thought I would walk up, and I couldn't
find the way. Thank you," said Jack, colouring and looking rather
foolish.
"They did not expect you to be here till to-morrow. What have you done
with your things?"
"I've lost them, Miss Stanforth," said Jack; "I can't think how. You
see no one understands anything, and the stations coming from Madrid are
so odd."
"Oh, I think you will get them; we had one box detained for ages. Thank
you," as he took her basket of fruit. "Shall we come?" and then,
looking up at him, "Your brother is so much better."
"I--I am very glad of that," said Jack, in a sort of inadequate way.
He was nervous about the meeting, and felt conscious that he was dusty
with his journey, and sure that he must have looked foolish staring at
the old woman.
Gipsy took him down the street, and into a house with a balcony covered
with gay-striped blinds, and led him upstairs till she came to a door,
or rather curtain, which she lifted, putting her finger on her lip.
It was a long, low room, with the lights carefully arranged and shaded,
containing drawing-boards and unframed sketches, a wonderful heap of
"art treasures," in one corner, Algerine scarves and stuffs, great,
rough, green pitchers, and odds and ends of colour. Some one sat with
his back to the door drawing, but Jack only beheld his brothers who were
together at the further end of the room, and did not immediately see
him, for they were looking at each other and appeared to the puzzled
Jack oddly still and silent.
Miss Stanforth gave a little laugh, and Alvar looked round and
exclaimed. Cheriton sprang up, and with a cry of delight seized on
Jack, with an outburst of greetings and inquiries, in which all the
surroundings were forgotten. Gipsy laughingly described her encounter
to Alvar; while "father," and "granny," "the old parson," "no good in
having a Christmas at all at home without you," passed rapidly between
the other two.
"Come, Jack, that's strong! But, indeed, I think you have brought
Christmas here. How rude we are! You have never spoken to Mr
Stanforth. Mr Stanforth, let him see the picture. Jack, do you think
father will like it?"
"Yes. You look much jollier than in the photograph," said Jack, as Mr
Stanforth turned the picture round for his inspection.
It was a small half-length in tinted chalk showing Cherry seated and
looking up, with a bright interested face, at Alvar, who was showing him
a branch of pomegranates. The execution was of the slightest, but the
likenesses were good, and the strong contrast of colouring and
resemblance of form was brought out well. "_Brothers_," was written
underneath, and Jack looked at them as if the idea of any one wishing to
make studies of them was strange to him.
"Jack is bewildered--lost, in more senses than one," said Cherry,
smiling.
"Come, it is time we went home, and then for news of every one! Mr
Stanforth, we shall see you to-night."
Jack's arrival was an intense pleasure to Cheriton, whose reviving
faculties were beginning to long for their old interests. He had
recovered his natural spirits, and though he still looked delicate, and
had no strength to spare, was quite well enough to look forward to his
return to England and to beginning life there. Indeed the ardent hopes
and ambitions, so cruelly checked in their first outlet, turned--with a
difference indeed, but with considerable force--to the desire of
distinction and success; and in return for Jack's endless talk of home
and Oxford, he planned the course of study to begin at Easter, and the
hard work which he felt sure with patience must ensure good fortune.
Cheriton was very sanguine, and since he had felt so much better, had no
doubt of entire recovery; and Jack was accustomed to follow his lead,
and was much relieved both by his liveliness and by his resolute mention
of Rupert, and inquiry as to the arrangements for his marriage.
If Cheriton had not won the battle, he was at least holding his own in
it bravely--the bitter pain was first submitted to, and then held down
with a strong hand. But surely, he thought, there was _something_ in
store for him, if not the sweetness of happy love, yet the ardour of the
struggle of life.
He could not say enough of Alvar's care for him, and Jack found Alvar
much more easy of access than at home, and more interested than he had
expected in the details of the home life; and in the course of
conversation the dinner-party to the Seytons, and its motive, came out.
Alvar coloured deeply; he was silent then, but as soon as he was alone
with Cheriton he said with some hurry of manner,--
"My brother, I am ashamed. What can I do? It is not endurable to me
that any one should blame Miss Seyton."
"I suppose my father did the only thing there was to be done. When an
engagement is broken people generally say that there were faults on both
sides."
"That is not so," said Alvar. "She is as blameless as a lily. Can I do
nothing? I am ashamed," he repeated vehemently.
"Perhaps when you go home you will be able to show the world that you
are of a different opinion," said Cherry very quietly, but with
difficulty suppressing a smile.
"You do not understand," said Alvar in a tone of displeasure, turning
away, and thinking that he had never before known Cheriton so
unsympathetic.
Jack did not make much way with the de la Rosas, he did not like
committing himself to foreign languages, and was shy, but they were very
polite to "Don Juan," a name that so tickled Cheriton's fancy that he
adopted it at once.
Jack began by somewhat resenting his brother's intimacy with the
Stanforths as a strange and unnecessary novelty, but he soon fell under
the charm, and pursued Mr Stanforth with theories of art which were
received with plenty of good-humoured banter. Gipsy, too, set to work
to enlighten him on Spanish customs; and having rescued him from one
difficulty, made it her business to show him the way he should go, so
that they became very friendly, and the strange Christmas in this
foreign country drew the little party of English closer together. There
was enough to interest them in the curious and picturesque customs of
Andalusia, but the carols which Gipsy insisted on getting up gave Cherry
a fit of home-sickness; and a great longing for Oakby, and the holly and
the snow, the familiar occupations, the dogs, and the skating came over
him. It had been a long absence; he thought how his father would be
wishing for him, and he experienced that sudden doubt of the future
which people call presentiment. Would he ever spend Christmas _at home_
again? He was beginning to weary a little of the wonder and admiration
that had stood him in such good stead, and to want the time-honoured
landmarks which showed themselves unchanged as the flood-tide of passion
subsided.
He was quite ready, however, to enter into the plans for a tour through
some of the neighbouring towns before the Stanforths should return home
at the end of January. Jack's time was still shorter; and as Cheriton
himself had hitherto seen nothing but Seville, a joint expedition was
proposed, with liberty to separate whenever it was convenient, as Alvar
would consent to nothing that involved Cherry in long days on horseback
lasting after sundown, or in extra rough living; and Mr Stanforth
backed up his prudent counsels.
But Cordova, Granada, and Malaga could be managed without any extreme
fatigue, and Ronda could be reached easily from the latter place. So in
the first week in the new year the three Lesters, Mr Stanforth and his
daughter, and Miss Weston set off together for a fortnight's trip.
Afterwards they would all separate, and Alvar and Cheriton, after
returning for a few weeks to Seville, were to make their way gradually
northwards, stopping in France and Italy till the spring was further
advanced.
The tour prospered, and in due time they found themselves at Ronda, and
strolling out together in the lovely afternoon sunshine, reached the new
bridge across the river; Jack and Gipsy engaged in an endless discussion
on the expulsion of the Moors, lingering while they talked, and looking
down into the deep volcanic chasm that divides the old town of Ronda
from the new, while nearly three hundred feet below them roared, dashed,
and sparkled the silvery waters of the Guadalvin. On either side were
the picturesque buildings of the two towns, fringed with wood--in front,
miles of orchards, and beyond, the magnificent snow-crowned mountains of
the Sierra; while over all was the sapphire blue, and sun, which, though
the year was but a fortnight old, covered the ground with jonquils, and
hung the woods with lovely flowers hardly known to our hothouses.
They had marvelled at the Alhambra, and Cheriton had disclaimed all
sense of feeling himself in the Crystal Palace. They had noticed and
admired the mixture of Moorish and Christian art in Granada and Cordova,
and had discussed ardently all the difficult questions of the Moorish
occupation and expulsion--discussions in which Gipsy's fresh school
knowledge, and Jack's ponderous theories, had met in many a hearty
conflict. They had sketched, made notes, collected curiosities, or
simply enjoyed the beauty according to their several idiosyncrasies, and
had remained good friends through all the ups and downs of travel; while
Cheriton had stood the fatigue so well that he had set his heart on
riding with the others across country to Seville, and could afford to
laugh at the discomforts incidental to eating and sleeping at Ronda.
There was much to see there, and they did not mean to hurry away.
Cherry remarked to Alvar that Jack had improved, and was less
sententious than he used to be; but the cause of this increased
geniality had struck no one. Every one laughed when Gipsy reminded him
of things that he had forgotten, talked Spanish for him because he was
too shy to commit himself to an unknown tongue, and stoutly contradicted
many of his favourite sentiments. Writing an essay, was he? on the evil
of regarding everything from a ludicrous point of view. There were a
great many cases in which that was the best point of view to look at
things, and Gipsy wrote a counter essay which afforded great amusement.
But no one perceived when Gipsy's sense of the ludicrous fell a little
into abeyance; and when she ceased to contradict Jack flatly, and began
to think that she received new ideas from him, still less did his
brothers dream of the new thoughts and aspirations that were rushing
confusedly through the boy's mind; he was hardly conscious of them
himself.
The pair were a little ahead of their companions, who now came up and
joined them.
"Well, Jack," said Alvar, "I have been making inquiries, and I find that
we can take the excursion among the mountains that you wished for. Mr
Stanforth prefers making sketches here, and it would be too rough for
the ladies, or for Cherry."
"I suppose the mountains _are_ very fine?" said Jack, not very
energetically.
"Jack found the four hundred Moorish steps too much for him. He has
grown lazy," said Cherry. "For my part, I think the fruit market is the
nicest place here; it has such a splendid view. I shall go there
to-morrow and eat melons while you are away."
"Miss Weston and I are going to buy scarves and curiosities in the
market," said Gipsy; "but they say we should have come here in May to
see the great fair; that is the time to buy beautiful things."
"Yes," said Alvar, "and Mr Stanforth might have studied all the
costumes of Andalusia. But, I think, since we ordered our dinner two
hours ago, it is likely now to be ready. I hope the ladies are not
tired of fried pork, for I do not think we shall get anything better."
"Oh!" said Gipsy, "I mean to get mamma to introduce it at home; it is so
good."
"Do you, my dear?" said her father. "I am inclined to think that with
the ordinary accompaniments of clean tablecloths and silver forks it
might be disappointing."
Without a table-cloth and with the very primitive implements of Ronda,
the fried pork was very welcome; and when their dinner was over, as it
was too dark to go out any more, they went down into the great public
room on the ground floor of the inn, where round a bright wood-fire were
gathered muleteers, other travellers and natives, both men and women.
It was a wonderful picturesque scene in the light of the fire, and Mr
Stanforth's sketching so delighted his subjects that they crowded round
him, only anxious that he should draw them all, while the "English
hidalgos" were objects of the greatest curiosity. The men came up to
Jack and Cheriton, examining their clothes, their tobacco pouches and
pipes; and one great fellow in a high hat, and brilliant-coloured shirt,
looking so much like an ideal brigand that it was difficult to believe
that he was only an olive-grower, after looking at Cheriton for some
time, put out a very dirty hand, and touched his hair and cheek as if to
assure himself that they were of the same substance as his own. Gipsy's
dress and demeanour interested them greatly, and one or two of them made
her write her name on a bit of paper for them to keep.
The next day's ride was fully discussed, and much information given as
to route and destination. Then, at Cherry's request, some of the
muleteers sang to them wild half-melancholy airs, and one of the men
danced a species of comic dance for their edification, and then the
chief musician diffidently requested them to give a specimen of _their_
national music. Gipsy laughed and looked shy; but her father laid down
his pencil, and in a fine voice, and with feeling that told even in an
unknown language, sang "Tom Bowling," and then, as this gave great
satisfaction, began "D'ye ken John Peel," in the chorus of which his
companions joined him.
"That," he explained, "was a hunting song. Now he would give them a
really national air;" and in the midst of this strange audience, he
struck up the familiar notes of "God save the Queen."
The English rose to their feet; the men lifted their hats, and all
joined in and sang the old words with more patriotic fervour than at
home they might have thought themselves capable of; and the Spaniards,
with quick wit and ready courtesy, uncovered also, and when they had
finished the musician picked out the notes on his guitar.
The weather next morning proving all that could be wished, Alvar and
Jack, with a couple of guides, set off before daybreak on their ride
into the mountains, intending to ascend on foot a certain peak from
which the view was very fine, and which was accessible in the winter.
The expedition had been entirely planned for Jack's benefit, and perhaps
he was not quite so grateful as he might have been. The others had no
lack of occupation. They went down to the "Nereid's Grotto," a cave
filled with clear emerald water, near which stand an old Moorish mill,
built on rocks, fringed with masses of maidenhair fern. Mr Stanforth
remained there sketching the building, white with a sort of dazzling
eastern whiteness, the strange forms of cactus and aloe crowning the
cliffs, and the washerwomen in gay handkerchiefs and scarlet petticoats
kneeling on the flat stones by the river. Cheriton, with the ladies,
went on their shopping expedition to find presents that might be sent
home by Jack, and having found some silk handkerchiefs for his father, a
wonderful sash for Nettie, and a striped rug for his grandmother, to
whom Alvar intended to despatch some Spanish lace already bought in
Seville, he helped Gipsy to choose a present for each of her numerous
brothers and sisters, and himself hunted up smaller offerings for his
friends of all degrees.
This occupied a long time, especially as the children followed them
wherever they went, "as if one was the pied piper," said Cherry; and
afterwards they bought bread and fruit, and ate it for luncheon, and
Gipsy reflected that in three weeks' time she would be back in
Kensington, very busy and rather gay, and would probably never buy
pomegranates and melons in Ronda again in all her life.
Cheriton employed himself in the evening in writing to his father, while
the Stanforths went down again to the mixed company below. He did not
expect his brothers till late, and was not giving much heed to the time,
when he looked up and saw Gipsy cross the room.
"Have they come back?" he said.
"No," said Gipsy. "Don't you think they ought to be here soon?"
Cherry glanced at his watch.
"Nine o'clock? Yes, I suppose they will be here directly, for the
guides told us eight. People never get off mountains as soon as they
expect they will. I'll come down. I have finished my letter."
Some time longer passed without any sign of an arrival, and the landlord
of the inn, and some of the muleteers, began to say that either the
Ingleses must have changed their route, or that something must have
detained them till it was too dark to get down the mountains, so that
they must be waiting till daylight to descend. Cheriton did not take
alarm quickly; he knew that a very trifling change of path or weather
would make this possible, and he was the first to say that they had
better go to bed, and expect to see the wanderers in the morning; and
Mr Stanforth, very anxious to avoid frightening him, chimed in with a
cheerful augury to the same effect. But when Cheriton had left them, he
said, anxiously,--
"I don't like it; I am sure Alvar would not delay if he could help it--
he would not cause so much anxiety."
"But some very trifling matter might have detained them till after
dark," said Miss Weston.
"Oh, yes; I trust it may be so."
Gipsy said nothing; but before her mind's eye there rose a vision of
more than one little wayside cross which she had been shown on their
ride to Ronda, with the inscription, "Here died Don Luis or Don Pedro,"
and the date.
These were erected, she was told, where travellers had been killed by
_saltiadores_ or brigands; but there were very few of such breakers of
the law in Andalusia now. Still, their party had thought it right to
carry arms. What if they had been driven to use them?--what if--? Even
to herself Gipsy could not finish the sentence; but she lay awake all
night listening for an arrival, till her ears ached and burnt with the
strain; till she heard in the night-time, that had hitherto seemed to
her so silent, sounds innumerable; till she felt as if she could have
heard their footsteps on the mountain side. And all the time the worst
of it was that she heard nothing. And for fear that Miss Weston would
guess at her terror, for speaking of it seemed to remove it from the
vague regions of her imagination and give it new force, and also for
fear of missing a sound, she lay as still as a mouse, till, spite of an
occasional doze, the night seemed endless, and the most welcome thing in
the world was the long-delayed winter dawn.
Gipsy was thankful to get up and dress and find out what was going on,
and as soon as possible she ran downstairs and went out to the front of
the inn. Her father was just before her, and Cheriton was standing
talking to a group of guides and muleteers. He turned round and came up
to them saying,--
"I have been making inquiries, and they say that if they kept to their
intended route--and I feel sure that they would not change it--there is
no reason to fear any dangerous accident such as one hears of on Swiss
mountains. And the men all laugh at the notion of any brigandage
nowadays. What I think is, that one of them may have got some slight
hurt, twisted his foot, for instance, and been unable to get on; and if
they don't turn up in an hour or so I think we ought to go after them."
Cherry looked anxiously at Mr Stanforth as he spoke, as if, having
worked up this view for his own benefit, he wanted to see others
convinced by it also.
"Yes," said Mr Stanforth, "I have been thinking of the possibility of
strained ankles too."
"You see," said Cherry, "they must have left their mules somewhere; at
least we shall fall in with them."
"Ah--ah! they are coming," cried Gipsy, with a scream of joy, as the
sound of hoofs were heard along the street.
Cherry dashed forward, but as the party came into sight he stopped
suddenly, then hurried on to meet them; for only Pedro, one of the
mule-drivers who had accompanied them, appeared, riding one mule and
leading the other.
In the sudden downfall, Gipsy's very senses seemed to fail her; as she
saw Cherry lay his hand on the mule as if to support himself, and look
up, unable to frame a question; she could hardly hear the confusion of
voices that followed.
Soon, however, she gathered that no terrible news had come--no news at
all. Don Alvar and Don Juan had ascended the mountain with their guide
Jose, and had never returned; and, after waiting for their descent in
the early morning, Pedro had come back without them. What could have
happened? _They might_ have gone a long way round, in fact a three
days' route--there was no other, or they might have fallen from a
precipice.
"In short, you know nothing about them. We must go and see,"
interrupted Cherry, briefly; "at least, I will. What mules have you?
Who is the best guide now in Ronda?"
"My dear boy," said Mr Stanforth gently and reluctantly, "you must not
try the mountain yourself. You know it must be done on foot, and the
fatigue--"
"How can I think of that now? What does it matter?" said Cherry, with
the roughness of excessive pain. "It is far worse to wait."
"Yes, but depend upon it, _they_ are as anxious as you are. Certainly I
shall go, and the guides; but, you see, speed is an object."
"Oh, I shouldn't cough and lose my breath _now_!" said Cherry. "Indeed,
I can walk up hill."