this circuit for the purpose of avoiding any snare laid for him among
the mountains by Don Carlos or Alvarado, who well knew how to employ and
communicate with those villains who infest every part of Spain. Evil
was impending, and he might have escaped it by taking the Roncesvalles
road, or had his deceitful companion, the Franciscan, warned him; but
for the bribe of a few dollars, Micer Bartolme had purchased his
silence. A few miles from Elizondo they passed a ruinous chapel where
some French prisoners had been confined, and, by a strange refinement of
cruelty, starved to death by their guards,--the guerillas of old
Salvodar de Zagala. The floor was yet strewed with the bones of these
unfortunates, who fell victims to a savage spirit of retaliation, and
almost within sight of the fertile plains of their native country. The
Franciscan continued to mutter prayers and make the sign of the cross
with affected devotion, while Stuart surveyed the ghastly place with
surprise and indignation.
"_La Caza de Dios_," said he, reading the legend on the lintel of the
door. "Alas! how it has been desecrated!"
The priest made no reply, but moved onward, kicking with his spurless
heels the sounding sides of his _borrica_, leaving Ronald to follow as
he pleased.
After riding a few miles further, they stopped at a _quinta_, or
country-house, an unusual thing in Spain; and had not the proprietor
been a well-known contrabandista, it would soon have been sacked and
burned by the banditti in the neighbourhood. The owner was absent, but
the _patrona_ spread before her guests a tolerable repast of _bacallao_,
bread of _milho_ or Indian corn flour, delightful fresh butter named
_manteca_, and garlic, onions, lupines, wine and cider in abundance; for
all of which she would receive nothing but the padre's blessing and a
kiss of peace, which the reverend Giuseppe bestowed upon her plump olive
cheek with a hearty good will, of which her husband might not have
approved had he been consulted.
At Maya, Stuart dined with the monks of the Franciscan convent. He had
an excellent repast, composed of all the good things which the district
could afford. The clergy of every country are certainly ardent lovers
of all the good things of this life, however much they may preach and
declaim against them. Poor though Spain may be generally, it is within
the stout old walls of the gloomy and spacious _convento_ that the
richest wines, the most delicate fruits, the most tempting viands, and
the most massive plate, are ever to be found. Quite the reverse of the
humble, dejected, and mortifying begging friars, from whom they took
their name, Ronald found the Franciscans of Maya all very jovial
fellows, who could laugh until they almost choked, and could push the
can about, and give vent at times to a most unclerical oath. Most of
them had been serving in the guerilla bands, and at the peace had
resumed the cassock and cope, the mass-book and rosary; but the
blustering manners acquired under such leaders as Mina and Julian
Sanchez, together with the coarse sentiments of the dissolute and
irregular lives they had led, appeared continually through their
hypocritical airs and the sombre disguise of the cloister. And such as
these are the men who are welcomed to every hearth and home in Spain!
who are the advisers of the young, the companions of the old, and the
confessors and the spiritual consolers of all, and into whose ears many
a female pours the inmost secrets of her heart,--secrets which, perhaps,
she would have revealed to no other mortal living!
To pay for his entertainment, Stuart deposited a handful of _pesetas_ at
the shrine of the Virgin, whose portrait in the niche, padre Giuseppe
informed him, was that of the _querida_ of the padre abbot. The fairest
dame in Maya had sat for it, to please the superior, who now never
prayed before any other image. Complimenting the abbot on his taste,
Stuart mounted and bade the holy fathers adieu, tired alike of their
manners and their cloister-scandal.
He was now riding straight on the road for France. After he passed the
rock of Maya, every rood of ground became as familiar to him as the
scenery of his native glen. The sun was setting as he entered the pass,
and as its light waxed more dim and sombre, his thoughts grew sadder and
more gloomy; for all the excitement of war had now passed away, and the
kindlier feelings had begun to resume their sway in the heart. He felt
an unaccountable melancholy stealing over him, but whether it was caused
by a presentiment--a prophetic sense of hidden danger, or by
recollections awakened by the surrounding scenery, I know not: probably
by the latter.
Poor Alister Macdonald was with him the last time he trod that way so
merrily to the strain of the pipe. He was now within a few feet of his
tomb, and all the memory of their past friendship came gushing upon his
remembrance. He stayed his horse, for a short space, to gaze upon the
scene of that contest, so fierce and so bloody, where his brave brigade
had fought with a spirit of gallantry and chivalric devotion equalling
that of Leonidas and his Spartans. Where the roar of so many thousand
muskets had once rung like thunder among the hills all was now silent.
The stillness was broken only by the scream of the wild bird, as, warned
by the falling dew and deepening shadows, it winged its way to its eyrie
among the rocks.
"Well may the flowerets bloom, and the grass be verdant here!" thought
Stuart. "Every foot of ground has been drenched in the blood of the
brave!"
The place presented the appearance of an old church-yard which had been
shaken by an earthquake. In some places skeletons lay uncovered, and in
others the grass grew long and rank above the mounds.
A green stone, with its head of moss, marked the resting-place of
Alister, that looked like one of those solitary old graves which, on the
Scottish moors, mark the resting-place of a covenanting warrior. The
earth which Evan's hands had heaped over it was now covered with long
weeds and nettles, waving sadly in the wind as it whistled down the
pass. The remnants of uniform, broken weapons, ammunition-paper, and
all the usual appurtenances of an old battle-field, lay strewn about.
The great cairn raised by the Gordon Highlanders to mark where their
officers were buried, cast a long spectral shadow across the ground, for
now the broad disk of the sun was just dipping behind the mountains.
The scene was gloomy and terrible, and Stuart was scarcely able to
repress a shudder as the recollections of the dead came crowding fast
and thick upon him. But, bestowing a last look on romantic Spain, the
land of bright eyes, of the mantilla, of the dagger and the guitar, he
turned, and rode down the narrow mountain-path to the northward.
*CHAPTER IV.*
*CIFUENTES.*
"Let Death come on;
Guilt, guilt alone shrinks back appall'd. The brave
And honest still defy his dart; the wise
Calmly can eye his frown, and Misery
Invokes his friendly aid to end her woes."
_The Orphan of China._
The night was approaching, and Ronald being anxious to reach Los
Alduides, Cambo, or any other village on the route for Toulouse, rode as
rapidly as the rough and steep nature of the mountain path would permit.
As he descended towards the Lower Pyrenees the ground became more
irregular, and the road at times wound below beetling crags and through
narrow gorges, which were scarcely illuminated by the red light from the
westward.
Twice or thrice Ronald beheld, or imagined that he beheld, a head,
surmounted by a high-crowned and broad-leaved hat, observing his
progress from the summit of the rocks skirting a narrow dell through
which he rode. This kept him on the alert, and the threatening words of
Don Carlos Avallo recurred to him. He halted, drew his saddle-girths
tighter, and looked to his pistols, leaving unstrapped the bear-skin
which covered the holsters. At the very moment when he was putting his
foot in the stirrup to remount, a musket was discharged from the top of
a neighbouring cliff, and the ball fell flattened from a rock within a
yard of his head. The white smoke was floating upwards through the
still air, but no person was visible.
"_Banditti_, by Heaven!" exclaimed the startled and enraged Highlander,
as he sprang on the snorting steed. "Farewell, Spain! and may all
mischief attend you, from the Pillars of Hercules to these infernal
Pyrenees! I wish the Nive rolled between them and me! But if swift
hoofs and a stout blade will serve me in peril, I shall be in broad
Gascony to-night."
Onward went Egypt at a full gallop, which was soon brought to a stop on
his turning an angle of the rocks. Across the narrow pathway a number
of men were busily raising a barricade of turf, branches, and earth; but
on Ronald's appearance they snatched up their carbines, and leaping up
the rocks with the agility of monkeys, disappeared.
"There is an ambush here," muttered Stuart. "Oh! could we but meet on
the mountain-side to-night, Senor Avallo, I would teach you a sharp
lesson for the time to come. On now! on, for death or life!"
He had very little practice in the true scientific mode of clearing a
five-barred gate, but he feared not to leap with any man who ever held a
rein; and when riding a Highland shelty at home, had leapt from rock to
rock, and from cliff to cliff, over roaring linns, yawning chasms, and
gloomy corries, which would have caused the heart of a Lowlander even to
thrill with fear. Grasping a steel pistol in each hand, he came
furiously down the path, with his belted plaid and ostrich feathers
streaming far behind him.
"On, Egypt, on! brave and noble horse!" said he, encouraging the fine
old trooper with words of cheer, at the same time goring his flanks with
the sharp iron rowels. The steed bounded onward to the desperate leap;
and when within a few yards of the barrier, straining every sinew and
fibre until they became like iron, he bounded into the air with such
velocity, that the rider almost lost his breath, yet sat gallantly, with
his head up and his reins low. At that very moment a deadly volley--a
cross-fire from more than a dozen muskets--flashed from the dark rocks
around. Several balls pierced the body of the horse, which uttered a
snorting cry of pain, and Ronald felt it writhe beneath him in the air.
Instead of alighting on its hoofs, down it came, thundering with its
forehead on the earth, to the imminent peril of the rider, who adroitly
disengaged himself from the stirrups and alighted on his feet, confused,
breathless, and almost stunned with the shock, while the noble steed
rolled over on its back, and never moved again.
Ronald was now in deadly jeopardy. Headed by Narvaez Cifuentes, a
well-armed gang of Spanish desperadoes, nearly forty in number,
surrounded him. Although Narvaez took the most active part in their
proceedings, he did not appear to be their leader; and Stuart, when he
knew that his life was forfeited by his falling into such hands,
resolved that they should gain it dearly. He had broken his claymore
and lost a pistol in the leap; but with the other he shot dead one
assailant, and drawing his long dirk, struck fearlessly amongst them,
right and left. He buried the steel claw of his Highland pistol in the
head of one fellow, whose only defence was a red cotton _montero_, or
cap; and he drove his left-handed weapon so far into the shoulder of
another, that it remained as fast as if driven into a log of wood. All
this was the work of a moment; but he was, immediately after these
exploits, beaten to the earth with the butts of their fire-arms; and a
Portuguese dealt him a blow on the head with a _cajado_, (a long staff,
armed with a knob,) which deprived him of all sensation.
When consciousness returned, he found himself lying on the same spot
where he had fallen; but the moon was shining brightly, and the banditti
were still grouped around him. He had been rifled of his epaulets, his
gold cross, and every thing of value, save the miniature of Alice Lisle,
which, being concealed, had escaped their hands. The contents of the
portmanteau lay strewed about, and a Spaniard, in whom he recognised the
ferocious young Juan de la Roca, once Mina's follower, was busily
occupied in relieving poor Egypt of the encumbrance of his hide, which
he did in a most scientific and tanner-like manner. Ronald had presence
of mind enough to lie still, fearing that they might destroy him at once
if he stirred; but, from what passed among them, he soon discovered that
they were well aware he was only stunned when stricken down. Gaspar
Alosegui, the powerful Spaniard who had been vanquished in feats of
dexterity at Aranjuez by Campbell and Dugald Mhor, was present among the
banditti, and, by the deference which was paid to every thing he said,
appeared to be their _capitan_.
He wore several feathers in his hat, a costly mantle hung on his left
shoulder, and several rich daggers and pistols glittered in his sash.
His followers were variously attired and armed, but all had their strong
muscular feet nearly bare, while their tawny legs, destitute of hose,
were exposed to the knee.
Ronald gazed on the detestable Cifuentes with a fiery eye. He
remembered all that Catalina had suffered from his barbarity; he
remembered, too, the vow he had sworn to Alvaro to revenge her, and his
heart beat quick, while he longed to fall upon him and slay him on the
instant, and in the midst of his companions in crime.
"I will not now permit him to be slain, since he has fallen alive into
our hands," said Alosegui, addressing Narvaez in a decided tone. "He is
a gallant soldier, and truly he has fought well for Spain. We have done
enough for the doubloons of Avallo; so stand back, Micer Narvaez! He
who would smite at the stranger, must do so only through my body!"
"_Angeles y Demonios!_" exclaimed the desperado hoarsely; "I tell you I
will have his blood,--ay, and drink it too, even as I would water! We
have long been enemies; and 'tis not Gaspar Alosegui that shall rob me
of the revenge so dear to every true Spaniard."
"A mad _borrico_, by our Lady de'l Pilar!" exclaimed Gaspar, interposing
his bulky form. "Speak softly, Cifuentes; and remember that you have
proved the weight of my hand, which has been thrice on your throat ere
now, I believe."
The robber shrunk back, and, grasping his stiletto, gave one of those
formidable scowls of rage and malice which so well became his villanous
front, his beetling brows and matted hair.
"Vincentio, the cripple, lies shot in the ditch yonder," said Juan de la
Roca. "He fell by the hand of the Briton: his crooked joints will no
longer afford us a laugh in our den among the cliffs. We have lost our
prime fool, senores, and I say blood for blood."
"Viva!" shouted the banditti; "blood for blood! 'Tis guerilla law: his
life for Vincentio's."
"To the dogs with the cripple!" exclaimed Gaspar. "I tell you, comrades,
that while I can strike a blow in his defence, he shall not die! By the
beard of Satanas, the first man that whispers aught of this again, shall
feel my knife between his ribs. Look you, _senores camarados_; we have
all more to gain by his life than his death. Narvaez tells us that the
cavalier is a very great friend of Alvaro of Villa Franca, whom the new
government have raised to the rank of count, and to whom they have
granted doubloons enough to pave the highway from Zagala to Merida. Don
Alvaro will ransom his friend, and a fair sum will thus fall into our
pockets. If not, the laws we have formed shall take their course, and
the stranger must die."
But Cifuentes was still clamorous for his blood, and insisted on slaying
him with his _own hand_. The rising storm increased when Ronald
staggered up and stood among them. Many of the banditti began to prime
and handle their fire-arms; and Stuart felt considerable anxiety for the
end of the matter. He endeavoured to second the efforts of Alosegui by
a long and bitter address, in which he upbraided them for their
ingratitude in thus maltreating one who had served Spain so well, and
had so often faced her enemies. He tore open his jacket and displayed
his scars, but he appealed to them in vain. His voice was drowned in
peals of savage laughter, with groans and yells which roused his rage to
an almost ungovernable pitch. His cheek burned with indignation as if a
flame was scorching it, and his blood came and went through his pulses
like lightning. How he longed to behold the effect of a sweeping volley
of grape among these brutal desperadoes, could such have been discharged
upon them at that moment! He watched eagerly the war of words carried
on between Narvaez, Gaspar, and their adherents, and he earnestly hoped
that blows would soon follow; to the end that, by arming himself, he
might slay some more, perhaps cut his way through them and escape, or
perishing, sell his life dearly as ever a brave man did who died sword
in hand. Eyes began to kindle, and poniards were drawn,--oaths and
invectives were used unsparingly on both sides, and a sharp conflict
would probably have decided the matter, had not Juan de la Roca proposed
to end the contest quietly by two throws of dice,--producing, while he
spoke, a box and dice from his pocket. This motion was at once acceded
to. Indeed these wretches seemed to have no mind of their own, but to be
swayed by the opinions of others, as the wind agitates the boughs of a
tree.
Brows were smoothed, and weapons sheathed; the oath and threat gave
place to the equally brutal jest, and the gang crowded about their tall
leader and his amiable lieutenant.
The fate of Ronald Stuart was to be in the power of him who should throw
the highest number; and all swore on their crucifixes, or on the
cross-guard of their poniards, to abide by the decision so obtained.
Ronald, with sensations almost amounting to frenzy, beheld Gaspar and
his opponent retire to a flat stone, and rattle the fatal dice-box which
was to determine whether or not he should be a living man in ten
minutes. What a moment was this! Rage and hate mingled with sorrow and
bitterness, dread and regret,--the regret that a brave man feels who
finds himself at the mercy of those whom he despises. Almost trembling
with the feelings of malice and fury which agitated him, Cifuentes
unsheathed his poniard, and after carefully examining the point and
edge, laid it on the stone, to be ready for instant use if he won.
The moon was now shining in all her silver splendour down the narrow
dell, and the stars, gleaming in the studded firmament, like diamonds
and rubies, sparkled as they do in the skies of Spain alone when the
atmosphere is pure and calm. Stuart beheld the blade of Narvaez
glancing in the moonlight, and never had he looked with such dread on a
weapon as he did upon that deadly stiletto; yet he had never shrunk from
a line of charged bayonets,--which, as the reader knows, he had faced
fearlessly more than once: but it is another affair to be slaughtered
like a lamb or a child. The green swelling mountains and the dark
defile were silent; no aid was near, and in every eye he read the glance
of a foe. Narvaez rattled the box aloft, and cast down the dice on the
stone, and his adherents bent over him earnestly.
"Four and five--nine!" cried the ruffian. "Nine onzas out of my first
plunder will be laid on the shrine of our Lady of the Rock if I win.
Throw, Gaspar--and may the devil so direct, that you throw less!" He
took up his poniard with a very decided air, while Gaspar in turn
quietly rattled the box.
"Five and five--_ten_!" said he with cool triumph, looking around him;
"one has saved him."
"Stay! let us look at them," cried Cifuentes, in a voice almost
amounting to a shriek. "Ten, indeed! _Par Diez!_ he has escaped me
just now. But a time may yet come--"
"Silence!" roared Gaspar. "Senor," said he, advancing towards Ronald,
who now began to breathe more freely, "I have saved your life,--for this
time at least. You are now to consider yourself as our prisoner. We
seldom keep any unless they are likely to pay well; for the rest, we
generally find a stab six inches below the shoulder the best method for
getting rid of them. But remember, senor, that we are not people to be
trifled with; therefore attempt not to escape unransomed, for death
would be the penalty: you have heard our oaths. If you have any interest
here in Spain, your captivity will not be of long duration; and if you
choose to take a turn of service with us among the mountains, we may be
inclined to treat you as if you had the honour to be our comrade. We
shall part friends, I trust. Many an alcalde and padre we have had,
whose ransom has made us merry for months. I tell you the truth, senor:
we are men of courage and honour, in spite of slander and unpleasant
appearances. We are true cavaliers of fortune, and are wont to be
somewhat delicate on points of honour; therefore you must neither use
threat nor taunt while among us, as our daggers lie somewhat loosely in
their scabbards. And I must add, _senor oficial_, that if the Conde de
Villa Franca refuses to ransom you for the sum we name, the laws of our
society,--laws we have formed and solemnly sworn to,--must take their
course."
"Well, Senor Gaspar," said Stuart, who had listened coolly to all this
preamble with folded arms, "and your law; what is it on that particular
head?"
"Death!"
"And the ransom?"
"Why, senor, we must arrange that. A cavalier is well worth a prior, or
four alcaldes; but, as you are a soldier, and soldiers are seldom
overburdened by the weight of their purses, we will not be severe."
"But Don Alvaro is rich," said Juan de la Roca. "Remember, my friends,
that he married a rich dame of Truxillo, whose estates, when joined to
his own, will be ample enough for a princedom--ay, for a kingdom larger
than ever was Algarve."
"And bethink ye of the rich ores," said Narvaez; "ores dug for him from
the bowels of the mountains at Alcocer, at Guadalcanal, and Cazella in
Estremadura, dug for him by the hands of wretched slaves condemned to
his service for petty or pretended crimes by the accursed _regidores_,
the _escrivanos del numero_, the alcaldes, the syndics, the military
commanders, and the devil knows who more!"
"Cazella?" observed Gaspar; "right! there is silver and gold dug there."
"Yes, and have been so ever since the days of the infidel Moors," said
Juan. "And Alvaro has mines of silver and copper at Logrosen, and in
the Sierra de Guadaloupe. _Diavolo!_ senores, a heavy fine! The
cavalier of Estremadura is rich, and will redeem his friend from death.
He has but to dig when he wants gold."
"_Carajo!_" said a robber; "I well know that. I was condemned to dig in
the mine of Logrosen for robbing a priest of his mule; and I slaved away
in those horrible pits until my bones well nigh parted company, and my
back was flayed by the thongs of the cursed overseer. But one day I
dashed out his brains with a shovel, and fled to the guerillas of
Salvador de Zagala. A heavy ransom from Alvaro!"
"Two hundred golden _onzas_!" cried Juan de la Roca; "and if Villa
Franca refuses, give his friend the Briton to feast the wolf and the
raven!"
"Viva! Juan has spoken like a prince!" cried the banditti, while they
made hill and valley ring with their boisterous applause.
Two, with their muskets loaded, had particular orders to escort Stuart,
and to shoot him dead if he attempted to escape; after which, the whole
band got in motion and advanced up the mountains, seeking the most steep
and dangerous paths, which often wound along the edge of beetling and
precipitous cliffs, where Stuart, although a Scotsman and a mountaineer,
had considerable trouble in threading his way.
Their journey ended when they reached a little square tower, which in
size and form was not unlike the old fortalice of a lesser Scottish
baron. It was perched on the summit of a steep rock, amid a wild and
savage solitude, which appeared more dreary, at the time that Ronald
viewed it, by the light of the waning moon.