CONCHA WAITS FOR THE MORNING
The dead woman was carried into the mortuary attached to the smaller
chapel of the _Colegiata_, and placed in one of the rude coffins which
had been deposited there in readiness upon the first news of the plague.
This being done, the mind of Rollo turned resolutely to the problem
before him.
Every hour the situation seemed to grow more difficult. As far as Rollo
was concerned, he owned himself frankly a mercenary, fighting in a cause
for which he, as a free-born Scot, could have no great sympathy. But
mercenary as he was, in his reckless, gallant, devil-take-the-hindmost
philosophy of life there lurked at least no trace of treachery, nor any
back-going from a pledged and plighted word. He had undertaken to
capture the young Queen and her mother and to bring them within the
lines of Don Carlos, and till utterly baffled by death or misadventure,
this was what he was going to continue to attempt.
If therefore the little Princess were not in the castle, she must
immediately be sought for outside it. The palace of La Granja was, as he
well knew, surrounded by eager and bloody-minded foes, bent on the
destruction of all within its walls. It was conceivable that Isabel
might already be slain, though in the absence of the daughter of Munoz,
he doubted whether the gipsies would go such lengths. To be held to
ransom was a much more probable fate. At any rate it was clearly the
duty of some one of the party to make an attempt for her recovery.
At the first blush Sergeant Cardono appeared to be the person designated
by experience and qualifications for the task. But, on the other hand,
how could Rollo entrust to the most famous of ex-brigands, a gipsy of
the gipsies, of the blackest blood of Egypt, the search for so great a
prize as the little Queen of Spain? The difficult virtue of self-denial
in such a case could hardly be expected from a man like Jose Maria of
Ronda. Consider--a ransom, a Queen put up to auction! For both sides,
Nationals and Carlists alike, would certainly be eager to treat for her
possession. In short, Rollo concluded that he had no right to put such a
temptation in the way of a man with the record of Sergeant Cardono.
His thoughts turned next to El Sarria. Concerning Ramon Garcia's loyalty
there was no question--still less as to his courage. But--he was hardly
the man to despatch alone on a mission which involved so many delicate
issues. Once outside the palace there would in all probability be no
chance of return, and Rollo was persuaded that the best chance of
recovering the child lay in discovering her in some of the hiding-places
which would doubtless be familiar to her about the grounds. To find the
little maid, to induce her to trust herself completely to a stranger,
and to guide her to a place of safety, these would be tasks difficult
enough for any combination of scout and diplomat. Now El Sarria, upon
meeting with opposition, was accustomed to storm through it with the
rush of a tiger's charge. No, in spite of his assured fidelity and
courage, it would be impossible to send El Sarria.
The others--well, they were good fellows, both of them, John Mortimer
and Etienne. But it was obvious to his mind that the quest was not for
them.
Rollo must go himself. That was all there was for it. After which
remained the question as to who should command in the palace during his
absence. Here the Sergeant was obviously the man, both from his natural
talents for leadership, as well as from the confidence placed in him by
General Cabrera. No such temptation would be presented to him within the
walls as might confront him outside, in a position of authority among
his blood-kin, and with a Queen of Spain in his power.
Whilst he was settling these questions in his mind, Rollo had been
standing at one of the windows, where the two royal servants, young men
of Castile, had been set to watch, with La Giralda between to perform
the same office upon them. To these he did not think it necessary to say
more than that they were to receive and obey the orders of Sergeant
Cardono as his own. The old gipsy would of a certainty do so in any
case.
Then the young man passed on to the balconies occupied severally by
Etienne and Mortimer. These two volunteers he took occasion to commend
for their constancy in holding fast their positions during the attack on
the other side of the house. He also briefly communicated to them all
that had taken place there, the attempt of the royal family to slip off
in the darkness, the death of the old nurse, the capture of the daughter
of Munoz, and the fatal loss of the young Queen.
He further told them that he considered it his duty to venture out to
seek for the missing girl. It came within the terms of his commission,
he said, that he should leave no stone unturned to recover the Princess.
Neither Etienne nor Mortimer offered any objection.
"The saints and the Holy Virgin bring you safely back," said Etienne,
who was still in his pious mood; "I will not cease to pray for you."
"Good-bye, and good-luck, old fellow!" quoth John Mortimer. "But I say,
if I should want more ammunition, where am I to get it?"
Such were the characteristic farewells of Rollo's two comrades in arms.
Equally simple was it to satisfy El Sarria, from whom our Firebrand
parted on the great southward balcony which the outlaw guarded alone.
"Be of an easy mind. I will be responsible for all I can see from this
balcony!" said the giant, calmly, "may your adventure be prosperous! I
would I could both remain here and come with you!"
All that Rollo had now to do was to inform the Sergeant of his plans and
to say good-bye to Concha. These tasks, however, promised something more
of difficulty.
The Sergeant was immovable at his post behind the thick twisted
vine-stems of the little balcony, over the twin doors, by one of which
the royal party had attempted to escape into the garden. While Rollo was
explaining his intentions, Cardono bit his lip and remained silent.
"Do you then not approve?" asked Rollo, gravely, when he had finished.
"Who is to command here in your absence?" answered the Sergeant in the
young Scot's own national manner.
"The command will naturally devolve on yourself," said Rollo, promptly;
"you will have the entire responsibility within the palace!"
"Which includes complete discretion, of course?"
"Certainly!" answered Rollo.
"Then," said the Sergeant, firmly, "my first act will be to lay Senor
Don Fernando Munoz by the heels!"
"As to that, you can do as you like," said Rollo, "but remember that you
may find yourself with another mad woman on your hands in the person of
the Queen-Regent!"
"I know how to deal with her!" replied the Sergeant; "go your way,
Colonel--depend upon it, the palace will be defended and justice done!"
Rollo nodded, and was turning on his heel without speaking, for the
thought of his interview with Concha was beginning to lie heavy on his
mind, when a whisper from the Sergeant called him back.
"When you are ready to go, return hither," he said; "I have the safest
way out of the palace to show you without so much as the opening of a
door or the unbarring of a window."
Rollo nodded again. He marvelled how it was that the Sergeant had
appeared so opportunely at his elbow when he had called upon him for
help. Now he was in the way of finding out.
The darkness was of the sort which might have been felt as Rollo
stumbled along the passages to the opposite side of the palace where
Concha, a loaded musket leaning against the wall on either side, was
watching keenly the square of grey grass and green trees in front of
her. Dark as the night was without, the girl had drawn the curtains
behind her, so that she was entirely isolated upon the balcony on which
she kneeled. In this, as usual, she had obeyed Rollo's commands to the
letter, and made sure that no faintest gleam of light should escape by
the window at which she kept her watch.
But spite of the intervening room and the thick curtains the girl had
heard his footsteps, light and quick, heard them across the entire
breadth of the palace, from the moment when he had quitted Sergeant
Cardono, to that when, drawing aside the hangings with his hand, he
stood behind her.
Nevertheless, Concha did not move immediately, and Rollo, standing thus
close to her, was, for the first time in his life, conscious of the
atmosphere, delicate yet vivid, of youth, beauty, and charm, with which
a loving and gracious woman surrounds herself as with a garment.
But these were stern times. He had come to her balcony for a purpose
and--there was no time to be lost.
"Concha," he began without ceremony--for after the kiss, regulated and
conscientious as it had been and clearly justifiable to his sense of
honour and duty, somehow the prefacing "Senorita" had come to be omitted
between them. "Concha, the little Queen is lost! She may be wandering
out there to meet her death among brigands and murderers! It is my duty
to go and seek her. Listen!"
And then when at last she turned from the window and slowly faced him,
Rollo told her all that had taken place below.
"I knew you were in danger when the shots went off," she said; "yet
since you had not called for me, nor given me leave to quit my
post----"
She did not finish her sentence. It was a kind of reproach that he had
called for the Sergeant and not for her in his hour of need. She knew on
whom _she_ would have called.
"You did well--better than well--to stand by your post," said Rollo;
"but now I must make over my authority to another. The Sergeant is to
command here in my absence."
"Do you then make _my_ allegiance over to the Sergeant?" asked Concha,
in a quiet tone.
"God forbid!" cried Rollo, impetuously.
And little Concha, looking abroad over the darkling hills, thought
within her heart that her morning was surely coming. It might be some
time on the way, but all the same it was coming.
But yet when he told her of the desperate quest on which he was bound,
that which had been glad became filled with foreboding, and the false
dawn died out again utterly. The hills were both distant and dark.
But as Rollo continued to speak bravely, confidently, and took her hand
to ask her bid him God-speed, Concha smiled once more to herself in the
darkness. And so, at the last, it came about that she even held up her
lips to be kissed. For now (so strangely natural grows this quaint
custom after one or two experiments) it seemed as if no other method of
saying good-bye were possible between them. And to Rollo the necessity
appeared even stronger.
But was this the reason of Concha's smile in the darkness? Or was it
because she thought?--"He is indeed the prince of youths, and can lay
his orders on whom he will, binding and loosing like Peter with the
Keys. But there is that in the heart of a woman which even he cannot
bind, for all his good opinion of himself!"
Yet stranger than all, she thought none the worse of Master Rollo for
his confidence and heady self-conceit. And what is more, she let him go
from her without a murmur, though she knew that her heart of hearts was
his. And that above all carrying off of queens and honours military,
more than many towns captured and battles won, she wished to hear from
Rollo Blair's lips that his heart also was her own--her very own. Many
men had told her that same thing in these very words, and she had only
laughed back at them with a flash of brilliant teeth, a pair of the
blackest Andalusian eyes shining meantime with contemptuous mirth.
But now, it seemed that if she did not hear Rollo say this thing, she
would die--which shows the difference there may be between words which
we desire to hear spoken and those that others wish to speak to us.
Yet in spite of all, or because of it, she let him go without a word or
a murmur, because of the hope of morning that was in her heart.