HOW THE VENGADOR AND RUI-VENABLOS CHANGED THEIR OPINION REGARDING
BELLIDO
Three days after the disastrous attack of the bandits on the Castle of
Carrion, those that remained of them were still encamped in the place
where we left them in the twenty-third chapter.
It was near nightfall, and the weather, which had been cold and rainy on
the preceding day, had become mild and calm. The Vengador and
Rui-Venablos were conversing together, walking through the camp, in
which were four tents, one for the chiefs, one for the Infanta of
Carrion, who was still their prisoner, one for the wounded who had been
brought from Carrion, and one for the other members of the band.
Near the encampment was a hill, from the summit of which could be seen
all the approaches, principally the road from Carrion, for a
considerable distance. The bandits kept watch on it, and had been given
strict orders to give notice when they saw anyone approaching the camp,
which proved that the Vengador had lost the blind confidence which he
had before placed in his strength and in his good fortune; for when he
had but a dozen followers, and had as his enemies not alone the
brotherhood of the Salvadores, but all the inhabitants of the country,
he did not take such precautions. With all their valour, the Vengador
and Rui-Venablos could not but feel discouraged by the terrible blow
which they had just received. Grief and despair had at first given them
courage and confidence, but when reflection came, the thought of those
who had remained entombed under the arched roof of the castle, and the
contrast between what the band had been and what it now was, changed
their energy and confidence into discouragement.
"The life we are leading here is a miserable one," said Rui-Venablos.
"Inaction not only causes discontent in our men, but leaves us open to a
sudden attack by our enemies; it deprives us, besides, of precious time,
which should be employed in filling up the wide gaps which have been
left in our ranks."
"We should indeed move away from here and shake off this inaction which,
in more ways than one, is weakening us," replied the Vengador; "but how
can we do so until all our companions who remained at Carrion have
returned, and thus place us in a position to give the Infanta her
liberty? If we departed hence, God only knows where we should have to
go; our companions would arrive with the hope of finding us, and having
made a long journey, which in their condition would be very painful,
they would be disappointed, and have to proceed in search of us through
the whole country, and many of them would probably succumb before they
could find us."
Martin bent down his head and continued--
"You, Rui-Venablos, and I, only bandits in appearance, and our comrades
being so in reality, should, it might be supposed, have no compassion
for them, and need not be loyal to them; but we act as it is but right
for us to do: every honourable man should be loyal and compassionate
towards those who share their good or evil fortunes, whether those men
happen to be honourable or not. In truth, our comrades are as honourable
as we are, for if we examine into the depths of their hearts and of
their conduct, we must place them, not in the category of bandits, but
in that of men whom hunger and oppression have forced to exercise a
shameful profession, and who, nevertheless, exercise it as honourably as
they can; for you know already, Rui, that if there are in the band many
men inclined to pillage and assassination, more by inclination than by
necessity, we have curbed the instincts of several of them,--sometimes
by persuasion, at other times by punishment,--and got rid of the others.
Perhaps those who appear least worthy of compassion are the very men who
most deserve it. What are you and I in the eyes of the public but bandit
chiefs, deserving of being hung and quartered, and exposed to public
obloquy on the highroads? Nevertheless, we dare shame and death for one
of the noblest causes,--one which even cavaliers have fought for. Oh,
how far are people from imagining that Rui-Venablos and the Vengador,
redoubtable bandits, who attacked, pillaged, and consigned to the flames
the mansions of grandees, have no ambition but to avenge the murder of
one father, the tortures inflicted on another, the dishonour of a girl,
and the oppressions and crimes which noblemen, wrongly so named,
practise on the weak and unfortunate."
"That is quite certain, brother," replied Rui-Venablos. "And Bellido
himself, of whom both of us, I the first, had suspicions, is a proof of
this. Who can say but that he enlisted in the band with an object just
as honourable as ours? I have changed my opinion regarding him so much,
that if the count should retain him in his castle, as God lives!
Rui-Venablos would risk a hundred lives to restore him to liberty. Who
does not love him, and desire that he should return to us, having heard
all that the wounded, who have come back to us, relate of him? Certainly
a man deserves praise and love who, severely wounded in his head,
forgets his own sufferings, dedicates himself to serve and console those
who most likely suffer less than he does, protests with a brave heart
against the inhumanity of the count, whom he rebukes, risking his anger,
and will not leave the castle until the very last of his companions has
quitted it, saying, that as he is one of their leaders, it is his duty
to die rather than abandon his comrades! Besides this, the circumstance
of Bellido having been the only one who escaped of all those on whom the
ruins of the arch fell, is another reason to consider him worthy of our
affection."
"Yes," said Martin; "from this day Bellido shall be our equal. Amongst
us there shall be no first or second; all three shall be but as one, all
three shall command the band, all three shall have the same power. And,
indeed, Bellido forecast things better than either of us, and you see
how events have justified his opinion that half the band would perish in
the assault on the Castle of Carrion. We were indignant at the plan he
proposed to us, in order to carry out our enterprise; but although we
never could have approved of it, perhaps our words would have been less
severe if we could have foreseen the dangers which he foreshadowed. Now
that we know how much Bellido is afflicted by the misfortunes of his
comrades, we must not feel surprised that, in order to save us from an
almost certain death, he should have ventured a proposal which made him
appear to us dishonourable and disloyal."
Their conversation had proceeded thus far when the sentry signalled that
people were coming from the direction of Carrion. The chiefs of the band
joined him in order to see who they were; and what was their surprise
and delight when they found that those who were approaching were Bellido
and the last of the bandits who had remained wounded in the power of Don
Suero.
Martin and Rui-Venablos hurried to meet them, and embraced Bellido
warmly, whose face, pale and emaciated, gave expression to his
satisfaction.
"Welcome, brother!" exclaimed both; "welcome, all of you!"
"We were awaiting you with very great anxiety," said Martin.
"It was not greater than the longing I felt to return to you," replied
Bellido.
"Brother," said Rui-Venablos, "we have learned how loyal your conduct
has been in Carrion with regard to our companions, and we, together with
the entire band, shall consider you in the future as its best and most
faithful member."
"Oh, you confer an honour on me which I do not deserve," replied
Bellido, with feigned modesty and emotion. "All our comrades are so kind
and grateful that those who arrived first must have spoken too well of
me, exaggerating the trifling services I rendered them."
"What a terrible blow it was to us, Bellido! You prophesied only too
truly when you said that half the band would be destroyed if we
assaulted the castle by force," said Martin.
"Let us speak no more of that," replied Bellido, as if his modesty
resented any allusion to his foresight. "Let us forget all that is past,
and let us only endeavour to recover lost ground. Let us work together
with earnestness, with zeal superior to all adverses, until we regain
our lost strength, and have again sufficient to ensure victory. Let us
then return to Carrion, to avenge our unfortunate companions who were
butchered by the count in so barbarous a manner; for you must know that
the arched roof, which fell down on us, had been previously prepared so
as to kill all of us; and deaths caused by such dastardly artifices can
only be called vile murders."
"And how were you able to save yourself from that slaughter?"
"Only by a miracle."
"Relate to us then, brother, all that happened to you at Carrion," said
Martin, just as they reached the tents.
The wounded bandits entered that which the chiefs of the band had
arranged in the best possible manner, and the Vengador, with his two
companions, entered his tent. Martin and Rui-Venablos could not do too
much for Bellido, with the view of ensuring his comfort and ease. They
prepared, with the utmost solicitude, a place where he could seat
himself. They saw that a meal was prepared for him, and they examined
the condition of his wound. Their care might be compared to that which a
father or mother would have lavished on a sick and debilitated son.
"Do not trouble yourself, brothers, in preparing comforts for me, for
when with you, I feel well however I may be placed. I assure you that
this cursed wound which, during the entire journey, made me suffer all
the pains of hell, has ceased to trouble me since I have seen you again.
One would say that you have the hand of a saint," added Bellido, with a
pleasant smile, "for you scarce touched me when I felt myself completely
cured. However, learn now what I suffered in Carrion."
Martin and Rui-Venablos then seated themselves by his side, ready to
listen attentively to him.
"When that terrible blow was heard above the arched roof, I foresaw the
danger which threatened us, and I rushed to the postern, to endeavour to
facilitate the exit of my comrades by opening the door, which had
suddenly closed through the impulse of the violent shock which made the
entire building quiver; however, the door, when closing, must have
dragged on with it some of the fragments which fell from the roof, and
wedged them in the door frame, for all the strength which I exerted to
open it was useless. Nevertheless, it was just yielding when the arch
crashed down, and I received so violent a blow on the head that I
instantly lost consciousness. I am ignorant of the length of time I
remained buried amid the ruins and the dead bodies. When I regained my
senses, the moonlight was penetrating through the postern, which was
partly open, just as it was at the moment the catastrophe took place.
The spectacle which then presented itself to my view was terrible;
rivulets of blood were flowing from the ruins, and on every side were
protruding corpses, horribly disfigured and mutilated; but not a voice,
not a groan, not a sigh was to be heard around me, which proved that I
was the only one in whom any life remained, of all those who were in the
place when the arched roof fell in. I turned my eyes away from that
horrible sight, and reflected as well as I could, for the loss of blood,
which continued to run from my head, had weakened my faculties. I knew
then that if I could not procure assistance, I should soon lose my
consciousness a second time, and the count would find one corpse more
under the ruins of the roof. I managed to get out into the fields;
bathed my wound in the river which flows near the walls of the castle,
bandaged it as well as I could, and was thus able to arrest the flow of
the blood. I advanced a few steps on the road which leads hither, but I
stopped, hearing some people approach, and concealed myself amongst the
bushes. I was thus able to overhear the conversation of some peasants
who were coming out of the castle and proceeding towards the town,
talking on their way of what had occurred. I thus learned that there
were in the castle several of my wounded companions, in danger of being
sacrificed to the anger of the accursed count, and I considered that it
would be a cowardly act not to share their fate. I then entered the
castle, taking advantage of the confusion which still reigned there, and
in a few minutes I was with my comrades again. You know the rest; and I
have only to add that the count is not taking any precautions to protect
the castle against a fresh attack, for he considers us too much weakened
to attempt one again. For that reason we should endeavour to recruit our
forces as quickly as possible, and strike another blow, which will
certainly have better results, as Don Suero will be unprepared."
"We shall do so, brother," exclaimed in one breath Martin and Rui,
clasping one after the other the hand of Bellido.
The three men continued to converse in a friendly way for a short time,
principally regarding the best means that could be adopted in order to
restore the band to its former strength; and an hour later there was no
other sound to be heard in the camp but the footsteps of two or three
sentries, stationed on the paths leading to it, and who continued
walking to drive away the cold, which, if they had not done so, would
almost have frozen the blood in their veins. Nevertheless, all who were
in the tents had not gone to rest: Teresa and Guillen were awake, seated
beside a lamp, in the same place where we have seen them but a few days
previously. The Infanta was no longer the same young girl, worn out by
grief, for whom the few kindly souls who saw her in the Castle of
Carrion felt so great compassion: a sweet and pleasant smile now played
constantly on her lips; her cheeks, a short time before pale as those of
a corpse, were commencing to be tinged with the colour of the rose; and
her soft eyes, formerly dim and sad, shone with joy and animation.
Teresa was born to love, and love was the only element in which she
could really live; from the time, therefore, that her soul had commenced
to satisfy that imperious necessity, it might be said that she had
returned again to life, for the contentment of the soul is a fountain of
health for the body. How rapidly time sped on for Teresa and Guillen in
that poor tent, into which penetrated from all sides the wet and the
cold, in which there was not even a rustic bench to use as a seat; where
it was necessary to lie on the ground, moist and rugged; where they had
not sufficient coverings to keep themselves warm; where food was scanty
and of the very coarsest kind; and where, finally, they were in the
power of a band of bandits. How true is it that love adorns everything,
and makes all things easily borne and even sweet! All those privations
were little thought of by them, for they were sufficiently compensated
by the pleasure of constantly seeing each other, of caring for each
other, and of building beautiful castles in the air.
"Teresa," said Guillen, with a loving smile, "we have been painting the
future with rosy tints, we have forgotten the real world in order to
make ourselves happy in an imaginary one; would it not be well now to
reflect for a few moments on the obstacles against which our love must
contend from the time that we return to the castle? It is sad to have to
awake from so delicious a dream as ours has been, only to find ourselves
in a reality as bitter as that which awaits us."
"Let us think over that reality," replied Teresa, also trying to smile,
but in truth becoming very sad at the discomforting prospect which
Guillen had conjured up before her.
"We must consider," said the page, "as to the kind of life we shall have
to lead when we arrive in Carrion; we must see each other as little as
possible, and in the presence of your brother you must address me coldly
and haughtily, in order that he may not suspect our love."
"And do you believe, Guillen, that I could live without often seeing
you, or that I could speak coldly to you?"
"It will be also very painful to me to spend even an hour without seeing
you, but we must accept such a bitter sacrifice, for what would be our
fate if your brother found out that there were any other relations
between us but those of a mistress and her servant?"
"Guillen, I repeat to you that I, formerly a weak and timid woman, now
feel myself strong and courageous; so much so, that I would not hesitate
to confess to my brother--ay, to the whole world--that I love you."
"Confess it to your brother, Teresa! Ah no! for the count would kill
you, as he would look upon the love of the Infanta of Carrion for an
obscure page as a crime deserving of being punished with death; for he
considers that such as I should kiss the ground on which their masters
place their feet. Let us conceal our love until the day arrives when you
need not be ashamed, in the eyes of the world, of loving me."
"Ashamed of loving you, Guillen! No, I shall never be ashamed of that,
for what armorial bearings could be found more noble than the good and
chivalrous soul which animates you?"
"I know, Teresa, that for you such armorial bearings are sufficient, but
not for your brother, not for the world. Let us conceal, I repeat, the
love which we have for one another whilst I remain in Carrion, for it
will be only till the day that the infidels make the first of their
frequent raids into Castile and Leon. I shall then join the first body
of soldiers which sets out to oppose the enemy, and the first fight in
which I take part shall win for me the first of the titles that will
enable me to demand your hand from your brother."
"Ah, Guillen, what bitter trials await our love, if they were only those
of the long separation which we must endure!" exclaimed Teresa, thinking
how illusory the hopes of the page were, and on what a weak foundation
his dreams of happiness rested.
"Teresa," said the page, smiling in order to encourage her, "do we not
feel ourselves strong and courageous? Well, then, let us trust in God
and in our love, for after a short period of tempest we shall enjoy
years of calm."
Whilst the lovers were thus conversing,--without thinking of who might
hear them, without even lowering their voices, as if fearful of being
heard and ridiculed by the bandits, who would have found in the love of
the Infanta and the page only a subject for jests and noisy mirth,--a
man issued from the tent of the chiefs and approached, as noiselessly as
possible, that of Teresa. The man applied his ear carefully to the
canvas of the tent, greedy to hear the conversation of the lovers, and
when it had ceased, or at least had changed its character, he returned
to the tent from whence he had come. If the darkness had not been so
great, he might have been seen to smile with satisfaction.
That man was Bellido Dolfos, who, surprising the love-making of Doña
Teresa and the page, had made up his mind to gain some gold marks in
exchange for--who knows but for the lives of two good and innocent
fellow-creatures!
All ages have had their traitors, but none of them more vile, more
despicable, more wicked than Bellido.