to which she would have rejoined, but that she saw some of the gitanos
come into the yard. She rushed from the spot, athirst for vengeance.
Andrew, like a wise man, determined to get out of her way, for he read
in her eyes that she would willingly give herself to him with
matrimonial bonds, and he had no wish to find himself engaged foot to
foot and alone in such an encounter; accordingly, he requested his
comrades to quit the place that night. Complying with his wishes as they
always did, they set to work at once, took up their securities again
that evening, and decamped. Carducha, seeing that Andrew was going away
and half her soul with him, and that she should not have time to obtain
the fulfilment of her desires, resolved to make him stop by force, since
he would not do so of good will. With all the cunning and secrecy
suggested to her by her wicked intentions, she put among Andrew's
baggage, which she knew to be his, a valuable coral necklace, two silver
medals, and other trinkets belonging to her family. No sooner had the
gipsies left the inn than she made a great outcry, declaring that the
gipsies had robbed her, till she brought about her the officers of
justice and all the people of the place. The gipsies halted, and all
swore that they had no stolen property with them, offering at the same
time to let all their baggage be searched. This made the old gipsy woman
very uneasy, lest the proposed scrutiny should lead to the discovery of
Preciosa's trinkets and Andrew's clothes, which she preserved with great
care. But the good wench Carducha quickly put an end to her fears on
that head, for before they had turned over two packages, she said to the
men, "Ask which of these bundles belongs to that gipsy who is such a
great dancer. I saw him enter my room twice, and probably he is the
thief."
Andrew knew it was himself she meant, and answered with a laugh, "Señora
doncella, this is my bundle, and that is my ass. If you find in or upon
either of them what you miss, I will pay you the value sevenfold, beside
submitting to the punishment which the law awards for theft."
The officers of justice immediately unloaded the ass, and in the turn of
a hand discovered the stolen property, whereat Andrew was so shocked and
confounded that he stood like a stone statue. "I was not out in my
suspicions," said Carducha; "see with what a good looking face the rogue
covers his villany." The alcalde, who was present, began to abuse Andrew
and the rest of the gipsies, calling them common thieves and highwaymen.
Andrew said not a word, but stood pondering in the utmost perplexity,
for he had no surmise of Carducha's treachery. At last, an insolent
soldier, nephew to the alcalde, stepped up to him, saying "Look at the
dirty gipsy thief! I will lay a wager he will give himself airs as if he
were an honest man, and deny the robbery, though the goods have been
found in his hands. Good luck to whoever sends the whole pack of you to
the galleys. A fitter place it will be for this scoundrel, where he may
serve his Majesty, instead of going about dancing from place to place,
and thieving from venta to mountain. On the faith of a soldier, I have a
mind to lay him at my feet with a blow."
So saying, without more ado he raised his hand, and gave Andrew such a
buffet as roused him from his stupor, and made him recollect that he was
not Andrew Caballero but Don Juan and a gentleman; therefore, flinging
himself upon the soldier with sudden fury, he snatched his sword from
its sheath, buried it in his body, and laid him dead at his feet. The
people shouted and yelled; the dead man's uncle, the alcalde, was
frantic with rage; Preciosa fainted, and Andrew, regardless of his own
defence, thought only of succouring her. As ill luck would have it,
Clement was not on the spot, having gone forward with some baggage, and
Andrew was set upon, by so many, that they overpowered him, and loaded
him with heavy chains. The alcalde would gladly have hanged him on the
spot, but was obliged to send him to Murcia, as he belonged to the
jurisdiction of that city. It was not, however, till the next day that
he was removed thither, and meanwhile he was loaded with abuse and
maltreatment by the alcalde and all the people of the place. The
alcalde, moreover, arrested all the rest of the gipsies he could lay
hands on, but most of them had made their escape, among others Clement,
who was afraid of being seized and discovered. On the following morning
the alcalde, with his officers and a great many other armed men, entered
Murcia with a caravan of gipsy captives, among whom were Preciosa and
poor Andrew, who was chained on the back of a mule, and was handcuffed
and had a fork fixed under his chin. All Murcia flocked to see the
prisoners, for the news of the soldier's death had been received there;
but so great was Preciosa's beauty that no one looked upon her that day
without blessing her. The news of her loveliness reached the
corregidor's lady, who being curious to see her, prevailed on her
husband to give orders that she should not enter the prison to which all
the rest of the gipsies were committed. Andrew was thrust into a dark
narrow dungeon, where, deprived of the light of the sun and of that
which Preciosa's presence diffused, he felt as though he should leave it
only for his grave. Preciosa and her grand-mother were taken to the
corregidor's lady, who at once exclaiming, "Well might they praise her
beauty," embraced her tenderly, and never was tired of looking at her.
She asked the old woman what was the girl's age. "Fifteen, within a
month or two, more or less," was the reply. "That would be the age of my
poor Constantia," observed the lady. "Ah, amigas! how the sight of this
young girl has brought my bereavement back afresh to my mind."
Upon this, Preciosa took hold of the corregidora's bands, kissed them
repeatedly, bathed them with tears, and said, "Señora mia, the gitano
who is in custody is not in fault, for he had provocation. They called
him a thief, and he is none; they gave him a blow on the face, though
his is such a face that you can read in it the goodness of his soul. I
entreat you, señora, to see that justice is done him, and that the señor
corregidor is not too hasty in executing upon him the penalty of the
law. If my beauty has given you any pleasure, preserve it for me by
preserving the life of the prisoner, for with it mine ends too. He is to
be my husband, but just and proper impediments have hitherto prevented
our union. If money would avail to obtain his pardon, all the goods of
our tribe should be sold by auction, and we would give even more than
was asked of us. My lady, if you know what love is, and have felt and
still feel it for your dear husband, have pity on me who love mine
tenderly and honestly."
All the while Preciosa was thus speaking she kept fast hold of the
corregidora's hands, and kept her tearful eyes fixed on her face, whilst
the lady gazed on her with no less wistfulness, and wept as she did.
Just then the corregidor entered, and seeing his wife and Preciosa thus
mingling their tears, he was surprised as much by the scene as by the
gitanilla's beauty. On his asking the cause of her affliction, Preciosa
let go the lady's hands, and threw herself at the corregidor's feet,
crying, "Mercy, mercy, señor! If my husband dies, I die too. He is not
guilty; if he is, let me bear the punishment; or if that cannot be, at
least let the trial be delayed until means be sought which may save him;
for as he did not sin through malice, it may be that heaven in its grace
will send him safety." The corregidor was still more surprised to hear
such language from the gitanilla's lips, and but that he would not
betray signs of weakness, he could have wept with her.
While all this was passing, the old gitana was busily turning over a
great many things in her mind, and after all this cogitation, she said,
"Wait a little, your honour, and I will turn these lamentations into
joy, though it should cost me my life;" and she stepped briskly out of
the room. Until she returned, Preciosa never desisted from her tears and
entreaties that they would entertain the cause of her betrothed, being
inwardly resolved that she would send to his father that he might come
and interfere in his behalf.
The old gipsy woman returned with a little box under her arm, and
requested that the corregidor and his lady would retire with her into
another room, for she had important things to communicate to them in
secret. The corregidor imagined she meant to give him information
respecting some thefts committed by the gipsies, in order to bespeak his
favour for the prisoner, and he instantly withdrew with her and his lady
to his closet, where the gipsy, throwing herself on her knees before
them both, began thus:
"If the good news I have to give to your honours be not worth
forgiveness for a great crime I have committed, I am here to receive the
punishment I deserve. But before I make my confession, I beg your
honours will tell me if you know these trinkets;" and she put the box
which contained those belonging to Preciosa into the corregidor's hands.
He opened it, and saw those childish gewgaws, but had no idea what they
could mean. The corregidora looked at them, too, with as little
consciousness as her husband, and merely observed that they were the
ornaments of some little child. "That is true," replied the gipsy, "and
to what child they belonged is written in this folded paper." The
corregidor hastily opened the paper, and read as follows:--
"_The child's name was Doña Constanza de Acevedo y de Menesis; her
mother's, Doña Guiomar de Menesis; and her father's, D. Fernando de
Acevedo, knight of the order of Calatrava. She disappeared on the day of
the Lord's Ascension, at eight in the morning, in the year one thousand
five hundred and ninety-five. The child had upon her the trinkets which
are contained in this box._"
Instantly, on hearing the contents of the paper, the corregidora
recognised the trinkets, put them to her lips, kissed them again and
again, and swooned away; and the corregidor was too much occupied in
assisting her to ask the gitana for his daughter. "Good woman, angel
rather than gitana," cried the lady when she came to herself, "where is
the owner of these baubles?"
"Where, señora?" was the reply. "She is in your own house. That young
gipsy who drew tears from your eyes is their owner, and is indubitably
your own daughter, whom I stole from your house in Madrid on the day and
hour named in this paper."
On hearing this, the agitated lady threw off her clogs, and rushed with
open arms into the sala, where she found Preciosa surrounded by her
doncellas and servants, and still weeping and wailing. Without a word
she caught her hurriedly in her arms, and examined if she had under her
left breast a mark in the shape of a little white mole with which she
was born, and she found it there enlarged by time. Then, with the same
haste, she took off the girl's shoe, uncovered a snowy foot, smooth as
polished marble, and found what she sought; for the two smaller toes of
the right foot were joined together by a thin membrane, which the tender
parents could not bring themselves to let the surgeon cut when she was
an infant. The mole on the bosom, the foot, the trinkets, the day
assigned for the kidnapping, the confession of the gitana, and the joy
and emotion which her parents felt when they first beheld her, confirmed
with the voice of truth in the corregidora's soul that Preciosa was her
own daughter: clasping her therefore in her arms, she returned with her
to the room where she had left the corregidor and the old gipsy.
Preciosa was bewildered, not knowing why she had made all those
investigations, and was still more surprised when the lady raised her in
her arms, and gave her not one kiss, but a hundred.
Doña Guiomar at last appeared with her precious burthen in her husband's
presence, and transferring the maiden from her own arms to his,
"Receive, Señor, your daughter Constanza," she said; "for your daughter
she is without any doubt, since I have seen the marks on the foot and
the bosom; and stronger even than these proofs is the voice of my own
heart ever since I set eyes on her."
"I doubt it not," replied the corregidor, folding Preciosa in his arms,
"for the same sensations have passed through my heart as through yours;
and how could so many strange particulars combine together unless it
were by a miracle?"
The people of the house were now lost in wonder, going about and asking
each other, "What is all this?" but erring widely in their conjectures;
for who would have imagined that the gitanilla was the daughter of
their lord? The corregidor told his wife and daughter and the old gipsy
that he desired the matter should be kept secret until he should himself
think fit to divulge it. As for the old gipsy, he assured her that he
forgave the injury she had done him in stealing his treasure, since she
had more than made atonement by restoring it. The only thing that
grieved him was that, knowing Preciosa's quality, she should have
betrothed her to a gipsy, and worse than that, to a thief and murderer.
"Alas, señor mio," said Preciosa, "he is neither a gipsy nor a thief,
although he has killed a man, but then it was one who had wounded his
honour, and he could not do less than show who he was, and kill him."
"What! he is not a gipsy, my child?" said Doña Guiomar.
"Certainly not," said the old gitana; and she related the story of
Andrew Caballero, that he was the son of Don Francisco de Cárcamo,
knight of Santiago; that his name was Don Juan de Cárcamo, of the same
order; and that she had kept his clothes after he had changed them for
those of a gipsy. She likewise stated the agreement which Preciosa and
Don Juan had made not to marry until after two years of mutual trial;
and she put in their true light the honourable conduct of both, and the
suitable condition of Don Juan.
The parents were as much surprised at this as at the recovery of their
daughter. The corregidor sent the gitana for Don Juan's clothes, and she
came back with them accompanied by a gipsy who carried them. Previously
to her return, Preciosa's parents put a thousand questions to her, and
she replied with so much discretion and grace, that even though they had
not recognised her for their child, they must have loved her. To their
inquiry whether she had any affection for Don Juan, she replied, not
more than that to which she was bound in gratitude towards one who had
humbled himself to become a gipsy for her sake; but even this should not
extend farther than her parents desired. "Say no more, daughter
Preciosa," said her father; "(for I wish you to retain this name of
Preciosa in memory of your loss and your recovery); as your father, I
take it upon myself to establish you in a position not derogatory to
your birth."
Preciosa sighed, and her mother shrewdly suspecting that the sigh was
prompted by love for Don Juan, said to the corregidor, "Since Don Juan
is a person of such rank, and is so much attached to our daughter, I
think, señor, it would not be amiss to bestow her upon him."
"Hardly have we found her to-day," he replied, "and already would you
have us lose her? Let us enjoy her company for a while at least, for
when she marries she will be ours no longer but her husband's."
"You are right, señor," said the lady, "but give orders to bring out Don
Juan, for he is probably lying in some filthy dungeon."
"No doubt he is," said Preciosa, "for as a thief and homicide, and above
all as a gipsy, they will have given him no better lodging."
"I will go see him," said the corregidor, "as if for the purpose of
taking his confession. Meanwhile, señora, I again charge you not to let
any one know this history until I choose to divulge it, for so it
behoves my office." Then embracing Preciosa he went to the prison where
Don Juan was confined, and entered his cell, not allowing any one to
accompany him.
He found the prisoner with both legs in fetters, handcuffed, and with
the iron fork not yet removed from beneath his chin. The cell was dark,
only a scanty gleam of light passing into it from a loop-hole near the
top of the wall. "How goes it, sorry knave?" said the corregidor, as he
entered. "I would I had all the gipsies in Spain leashed here together
to finish them all at once, as Nero would have beheaded all Rome at a
single blow. Know, thou thief, who art so sensitive on the point of
honour, that I am the corregidor of this city, and come to know from
thee if thy betrothed is a gitanilla who is here with the rest of you?"
Hearing this Andrew imagined that the corregidor had surely fallen in
love with Preciosa; for jealousy is a subtle thing, and enters other
bodies without breaking or dividing them. He replied, however, "If she
has said that I am her betrothed, it is very true; and, if she has said
I am not her betrothed, she has also spoken the truth; for it is not
possible that Preciosa should utter a falsehood."
"Is she so truthful then?" said the corregidor. "It is no slight thing
to be so and be a gitana. Well, my lad, she has said that she is your
betrothed, but that she has not yet given you her hand; she knows that
you must die for your crime, and she has entreated me to marry her to
you before you die, that she may have the honour of being the widow of
so great a thief as yourself."
"Then, let your worship do as she has requested," said Andrew; "for so I
be married to her, I will go content to the other world, leaving this
one with the name of being hers."
"You must love her very much?"
"So much," replied the prisoner, "that whatever I could say of it would
be nothing to the truth. In a word, señor corregidor, let my business be
despatched. I killed the man who insulted me; I adore this young gitana;
I shall die content if I die in her grace, and God's I know will not be
wanting to us, for we have both observed honourably and strictly the
promise we made each other."
"This night then I will send for you," said the corregidor, "and you
shall marry Preciosa in my house, and to-morrow morning you shall be on
the gallows. In this way I shall have complied with the demands of
justice and with the desire of you both." Andrew thanked him; the
corregidor returned home, and told his wife what had passed between
them.
During his absence Preciosa had related to her mother the whole course
of her life; and how she had always believed she was a gipsy and the old
woman's grand-daughter; but that at the same time she had always
esteemed herself much more than might have been expected of a gitana.
Her mother bade her say truly, was she very fond of Don Juan? With great
bashfulness and with downcast eyes she replied that, having considered
herself a gipsy, and that she should better her condition by marrying a
knight of Santiago, and one of such station as Don Juan de Cárcamo, and
having, moreover, learned by experience his good disposition and
honourable conduct, she had sometimes looked upon him with the eyes of
affection; but that as she had said once for all, she had no other will
than that which her parents might approve.
Night arrived; and about ten they took Andrew out of prison without
handcuffs and fetters, but not without a great chain with which his body
was bound from head to foot. In this way he arrived, unseen by any but
those who had charge of him, in the corregidor's house, was silently
and cautiously admitted into a room, and there left alone. A confessor
presently entered and bade him confess, as he was to die next day. "With
great pleasure I will confess," replied Andrew; "but why do they not
marry me first? And if I am to be married, truly it is a sad bridal
chamber that awaits me."
Doña Guiomar, who heard all this, told her husband that the terrors he
was inflicting on Don Juan were excessive, and begged he would moderate
them, lest they should cost him his life. The corregidor assented, and
called out to the confessor that he should first marry the gipsy to
Preciosa, after which the prisoner would confess, and commend himself
with all his heart to God, who often rains down his mercies at the
moment when hope is most parched and withering. Andrew was then removed
to a room where there was no one but Doña Guiomar, the corregidor,
Preciosa, and two servants of the family. But when Preciosa saw Don Juan
in chains, his face all bloodless, and his eyes dimmed with recent
weeping, her heart sank within her, and she clutched her mother's arm
for support. "Cheer up, my child," said the corregidora, kissing her,
"for all you now see will turn to your pleasure and advantage." Knowing
nothing of what was intended, Preciosa could not console herself; the
old gipsy was sorely disturbed, and the bystanders awaited the issue in
anxious suspense.
"Señor Vicar," said the corregidor, "this gitano and gitana are the
persons whom your reverence is to marry."
"That I cannot do," replied the priest, "unless the ceremony be preceded
by the formalities required in such cases. Where have the banns been
published? Where is the license of my superior, authorising the
espousals?"
"The inadvertance has been mine," said the corregidor; "but I will
undertake to get the license from the bishop's deputy."
"Until it comes then, your worships will excuse me," said the priest,
and without another word, to avoid scandal, he quitted the house,
leaving them all in confusion.
"The padre has done quite right," said the corregidor, "and it may be
that it was by heaven's providence, to the end that Andrew's execution
might be postponed; for married to Preciosa he shall assuredly be, but
first the banns must be published, and thus time will be gained, and
time often works a happy issue out of the worst difficulties. Now I want
to know from Andrew, should matters take such a turn, that without any
more of those shocks and perturbations, he should become the husband of
Preciosa, would he consider himself a happy man, whether as Andrew
Caballero, or as Don Juan de Cárcamo?"
As soon as Don Juan heard himself called by his true name, he said,
"Since Preciosa has not chosen to confine herself to silence, and has
discovered to you who I am, I say to you, that though my good fortune
should make me monarch of the world, she would still be the sole object
of my desires; nor would I aspire to have any blessing besides, save
that of heaven."
"Now for this good spirit you have shown, Señor Don Juan de Cárcamo, I
will in fitting time make Preciosa your lawful wife, and at present I
bestow her upon you in that expectation, as the richest jewel of my
house, my life, and my soul; for in her I bestow upon you Doña Constanza
de Acevedo Menesis, my only daughter, who, if she equals you in love, is
nowise inferior to you in birth."
Andrew was speechless with astonishment, while in a few words Doña
Guiomar related the loss of her daughter, her recovery, and the
indisputable proofs which the old gipsy woman had given of the
kidnapping. More amazed than ever, but filled with immeasurable joy, Don
Juan embraced his father and mother-in-law, called them his parents and
señores, and kissed Preciosa's hands, whose tears called forth his own.
The secret was no longer kept; the news was spread abroad by the
servants who had been present, and reached the ears of the alcalde, the
dead man's uncle, who saw himself debarred of all hope of vengeance,
since the rigour of justice could not be inflicted on the corregidor's
son-in-law. Don Juan put on the travelling dress which the old woman had
preserved; his prison and his iron chain were exchanged for liberty and
chains of gold; and the sadness of the incarcerated gipsies was turned
into joy, for they were all bailed out on the following day. The uncle
of the dead man received a promise of two thousand ducats on condition
of his abandoning the suit and forgiving Don Juan. The latter, not
forgetting his comrade Clement, sent at once in quest of him, but he
was not to be found, nor could anything be learned of him until four
days after, when authentic intelligence was obtained that he had
embarked in one of two Genoese galleys that lay in the port of
Cartagena, and had already sailed. The corregidor informed Don Juan,
that he had ascertained that his father, Don Francisco de Cárcanio, had
been appointed corregidor of that city, and that it would be well to
wait until the nuptials could be celebrated with his consent and
approbation. Don Juan was desirous to conform to the corregidor's
wishes, but said that before all things he must be made one with
Preciosa. The archbishop granted his license, requiring that the banns
should be published only once.