The day that followed after the flight of Abdoul-al-Sidi, beheld the
army of Cortes crossing that ridge which extends like a mighty curtain,
between the great volcano and the rugged Iztaccihuatl; and many a hardy
veteran shivered with cold and discontent, as sharp gusts, whirling rain
and snow from the inhospitable summits, prepared him for the contrast of
peace and beauty which is unfolded to the traveller, when he looks down
from the mountains to the verdant valley of Mexico. Even at the present
day, when the axe has destroyed the forest; when the gardens of
flowers--the cultivation of which, with a degree of passionate affection
that distinguished the Mexicans from other races, seemed to impart a
tinge of poetry to their character, and mellow their rougher traits with
the hues of romance,--when these flower gardens have vanished from the
earth; when the lakes have receded and diminished, and, with them, the
fair cities that once rose from their waters, leaving behind them
stagnant pools and saline deserts; even now, under all these
disadvantages, the prospect of this valley is of such peculiar and
astonishing beauty as, perhaps, can be nowhere else equalled among the
haunts of men. The providence of the Spanish viceroys in constructing a
road more direct and more easy of passage, to the north of the great
mountains, has robbed travellers of the more spirit-stirring impressions
which introduced them to the spectacle, when pursuing the ancient
highway of the Mexicans. It ascends among gloomy defiles, at the
entrance of which stand, on either hand, like stupendous towers guarding
the gate of some Titan strong-hold, the two grandest pinnacles of the
interior. It conducts you among crags and ravines, among clouds and
tempests, now sheltering you under a forest of oaks and pines, now
exposing you to the furious blasts that howl along the ridges. A few
dilapidated hamlets of Indians, if they occasionally break the solitude,
destroy neither the grandeur nor solemnity of the path. You remember, on
this deserted highway, that you are treading in the steps of Cortes.
As the army proceeded, Don Amador, alive to every novelty, took notice
that, regularly, at short distances from each other, not excepting even
in the wildest and loneliest places, there were certain low and rude but
strong cabins of stone built by the wayside, but without inhabitants.
These, he was told, were the houses that were always constructed by the
Mexican kings on such friendless routes, to shelter the exposed
traveller. He thought such benignant provision betokened some of the
humaner characteristics of civilization, and longed eagerly to make
acquaintance with those nobler institutions which might be presented
below. This desire was not the less urgent, that the frozen winds,
penetrating his mailed armour, made him shiver like a coward on the back
of his war-horse. He felt also much concern for his kinsman, who rode at
his side with a visage even wanner and more wo-begone than ordinary. But
in the deep and death-like abstraction that invested his spirits, Don
Gabriel was as insensible to the assaults of the blast, as to the
solicitude of his friend. The page Jacinto, moreover, caused him no
little thought; for the flight of his father, though this had exposed
him neither to the anger nor inquiries of Don Hernan, (who affected to
treat the desertion of the Moors as an affair of little consequence,
save to themselves,) had left the boy so dejected and spiritless, that,
as he trudged along between the two cavaliers, he seemed to follow more
with the instinct of a jaded house-dog, than with the alacrity of a
faithful servant. To the pity of his young master he returned but a
forced gratitude, and to his benevolent counsel that he should ride
behind Lazaro, he rendered the oft-repeated excuse, 'Senor mio, I am
afraid of horses; and 'tis better to walk than ride over these cold
hills.'
"There is much wisdom in what thou sayest, as I begin now to perceive,"
said Amador, dismounting and giving his steed to Lazaro: "'tis better to
be over-warm with marching on foot, than turned into an icicle on
horseback. My father!" he said, gently and affectionately, to Calavar,
"wilt thou not descend, and warm thyself a little with exercise?" But
the knight only replied with a melancholy and bewildered stare, which
convinced the novice that entreaty and argument upon this subject, as,
at present, upon all others, would be alike unavailing. Sighing
therefore, and, with a gesture, directing Baltasar to assume his station
at the side of Don Gabriel, he took the page by the hand, and removing
to a little distance from the group as well as from all other persons,
he walked on, entering into discourse with Jacinto.
"I do not marvel at thee, Jacinto," he said, "nor can I altogether
censure thee, for grieving thus at the flight of thy father. Nor will I,
as was, last night, my resolve, reprimand thee for leaving me, contrary
to my bidding, at the chamber of my good knight; for, besides finding
thee in grief enough at present, I perceive thou wert instigated to this
disobedience by anxiety for thy parent, which would have excused in thee
a greater fault. But let me ask thee, not so much as a master as a
friend, two or three questions.--First, Jacinto," he continued, "art
thou dissatisfied with thy service? or with thy master, who loves thee
as well as myself?"
"Service--master!--Senor!" said the boy, confused.
"I demand of thee, art thou discontented with thy duties, or grieved by
any unkindness which has been manifested to thee by thy master, or by
any of us, who are his followers?"
"I cannot be discontented with my duties," said the boy, a little
cheerfully, for it was not possible long to withstand the benevolence of
his patron;--"I cannot be discontented with my duties; for, in truth, it
seems to me, there are none imposed upon me, except such as are prompted
by my own fancies. I am very skilless in the customs of service, never
having been in service before; yet, senor, I like it so well, that with
such masters, methinks, I could remain a contented servant to the end of
my days. That is,--that is"--But here the page interrupted himself
abruptly. "As for any unkindness, I own with gratitude, I have never
received from my lord, from my master, nor from his people, any thing
but great favour, as well as forgiveness for all my faults."
"Thou answerest well," said the novice gravely. "I did not apprehend
anybody could treat thee rudely, except Lazaro, who is a rough fellow in
his ways, and being in some sort a wit, is oft betrayed into saying
sharp things, in order that people may laugh at them. Nevertheless,
Lazaro has a good heart; for which reason I pardon many of his freedoms;
but, I vow to thee, though he is a brave soldier, and albeit it is
opposed to all my feelings and principles to degrade a serving-man by
blows, nevertheless, had I found him venting his wit upon thee, I should
have been tempted to strike him even with the hardest end of my lance."
"I never had a better friend than Lazaro," said the page, with a faint
smile; "and I love him well, for he affects my singing, and praises me
more than anybody else. Then, as for Marco and Baltasar, though they
delight more in cleaning armour than listening to a lute;--and as for
the secretary, senor Lorenzo, who cares for nothing but tilting with any
one who will take the trouble to unhorse him,--they are all good-natured
to me, and they never scold me."
"This, then, being the case," said Amador, "and allowing thy first and
most natural obedience to be to thy father, rather than to a master, how
dost thou excuse to thyself the intention of deserting the service of
thy friends, without demanding permission, or at least acquainting us
with thy desires."
"Senor!" exclaimed Jacinto, surprised and embarrassed.
"It is known to me, that such was thy resolution," said the cavalier,
with gravity; "for it was so confessed to me, last night, by thy father.
But, indeed, though I cannot avoid expressing my displeasure at such
intention, which seems to me both treacherous and ungrateful, I led thee
aside less to scold thee, than to give thee intelligence of Abdalla, I
myself being, as I think, the last Christian that beheld him."
"Oh, senor! and he escaped unharmed?" cried the boy.
"Verily without either bruise or wound, save that which was made on his
soul, when I reproached him for deserting thee."
"I am deserted by all!" exclaimed Jacinto, clasping his hands.
"For the thousandth time, I tell thee, no!" said his patron: "And thy
father made it apparent to me he abandoned thee unwillingly; nor would
he leave me, though the pursuers were approaching fast, until he had
exacted of me the very superfluous vow, that I would give thee a double
protection from all wrong and injustice. Dry thy tears: I have already
obtained of Cortes a promise of full pardon for Abdalla, when he returns
to us, as doubtless he will, at Tenochtitlan."
"I hope so! I pray he may!" said Jacinto, hurriedly; "or what, oh! what
shall become of us!"
"I will have him sought out, and by-and-by take thee, and him along, to
Cuenza. 'Tis hard by to Granada."
The boy remained silent, and Amador continued:--
"Thy father also showed me, that it was thy faithful love, in remaining
by my kinsman during a swoon, which prevented thee from escaping with
him. This, though it does not remove the fault of thy design, entirely
forces me to pardon it; and indeed, Abdalla did as much as acknowledge
thou wert averse to the plan."
"Senor, I was: for though our degradation was great, I knew not how much
greater it might be among the pagans."
"Degradation! dost thou talk of degradation! In good faith, thou
surprisest me!"
"Senor," said the boy, proudly, "though you will deride such vanity in
poor barbarians of the desert, yet did we ever think ourselves, who had
always been free and unenslaved, debased by servitude. At least, my
father thought so; and I myself, though speedily solaced by the kindness
which was shown me, could not but sometimes think it had been better to
have perished with my father in the sea, along with our unhappy people,
than to remain as I was,--and as I am,--a _servant_ in the house of my
master!"
"A silly boy art thou, Jacinto," said Amador, surveying him with
surprise: "for, first, thy office as the page of a most noble and
renowned knight, is such a one as would be coveted by any grandee's son,
however noble, who aspired to the glory of arms and knighthood; and I
admonish thee, that, had not his infirmity driven Don Gabriel from Spain
entirely without the knowledge of his servants, thou shouldst have seen
the son of a very proud and lofty nobleman attending him in the very
quality which thou thinkest so degrading. I did myself, though very
nearly related to him, and though sprung of such blood as acknowledges
none superior, not even in the king that sits on the throne, enter first
into his service in the same quality of page; and, trust me, I esteemed
it great honour. In the second place, I marvel at thee, having already
confessed that thy service is both light and pleasant."
"It is even so, senor," said the boy, meekly, "and I am not often so
foolish as to repent me. It was not because I thought so yesternight,
but because my father bade me, that I strove to escape from it; for he
was in danger, or feared he was, and it was my duty to follow him
without repining."
"I come now to ask thee another question," said the neophyte. "By what
good fortune was it, that thou stumbledst upon my kinsman, among the
ruins of that profane pyramid?"
"It was there, senor, that the princes met us."
"Hah! Oh, then, thou wert plotting with my bold prince, hah! Faith, a
very valiant pagan! and in no wise resembling the varlets of Cuba. If
thou knowest aught of these men that may concern our leader to know, it
will be thy duty to report the same to him Jacinto, and that without
delay."
"Nothing, senor," said the page, hastily. "I discovered that my father
was to fly with the ambassadors; that he was to seek them at the
pyramid; and it was there we found my master swooning."
"Didst thou see aught there that was remarkable, or in any way
inexplicable?"
"I saw my lord fainting, my father and the princes flying, and the
soldiers pursuing and shooting both with cross-bow and musket."
"'Tis already," said the cavalier, turning his eye askaunt to Don
Gabriel, "yet I know not by what revealment, whispered through the army,
that my kinsman saw a spectre,--some devilish fiend, that, in the moment
of his doubt, struck him to the earth!"
"Ay!" said Jacinto, turning towards the knight, and eyeing him with a
look of horror; "he thought 'twas Zayda, whom he slew so barbarously
among the Alpujarras!"
The cavalier laid his hand upon Jacinto's shoulder, sternly,--
"What art thou saying?--what art thou thinking? Hast thou caught some of
the silly fabrications of the soldiers? I warn thee to be guarded, when
thou speakest of thy master."
"He confessed it to me!" said the page, trembling but not at the anger
of his patron. "He killed her with his own hands, when she screened
from his cruel rage her husband Alharef, his vowed and true friend!"
"Peace!--thou art mad!--'Twas the raving of his delirium.--There is no
such being as Zayda."
"There is not, but there _was_," said Jacinto, mournfully.
"And how knowest thou that?" demanded Amador, quickly. "Thou speakest as
if she had been thy kinswoman. Art thou indeed a conjuror? There is no
dark and hidden story, with which thou dost not seem acquainted!"
"She was of my tribe," said Jacinto, mildly, though tremulously,
returning the steadfast gaze of his patron: "I have heard my father
speak of her, for she was famous among the mountains. Often has he
repeated to me her sorrowful story,--how she drew upon herself the anger
of her tribe, by preserving their foe, and how their foe repaid her
by--oh heaven! by murdering her! Often have I heard of Zayda; but I knew
not 'twas Calavar who killed her!"
"Can this be true?" said Amador, looking blankly towards his unconscious
kinsman. "Is it possible my father can have stained his soul with so
foul, so deadly, so fearful a crime! And he confessed it to thee? to
thee, a boy so foolish and indiscreet that thou hast already babbled it
to another?"
"I could not help speaking it _this_ time," said Jacinto, humbled at the
reproach; "but if my lord will forgive me, I will never speak it more."
"I do forgive thee, Jacinto, as I hope heaven will my father. This then
is the sin unabsolved, the action of wrath, the memory of sorrow, that
has slain the peace of my kinsman? May heaven have pity on him, for it
has punished him with a life of misery. I forgive thee, Jacinto: speak
of this no more; think of it no more; let it be forgotten--now and for
ever,--Amen!--I have but one more question to ask thee; and this I am,
in part, driven to by thy admission of the most wondrous fact, that Don
Gabriel confessed to _thee_ his secret. Many of thine actions have
filled me with wonder; thy knowledge is, for thy years, inexplicable;
and thou minglest with thy boyish simplicity the shrewdness of years.
Dost thou truly obtain thy knowledge by the practice of those arts,
which so many allow to be possessed by Botello?"
"Senor!" exclaimed the boy, startled by the abruptness of the question.
"Art thou, indeed, an enchanter, as Yacub charged thee to be?--Give me
to understand, for it is fitting I should know."
The exceeding and earnest gravity with which the cavalier repeated the
question, dispelled as well the grief as the fears of the page. He cast
his eyes to the earth, but this action did not conceal the humour that
sparkled in them, while he replied,--
"If I were older, and had as much acquaintance with the people as
Botello, I think I could prophesy as well as he; especially if my lord
Don Hernan would now and then give me a hint or two concerning his
designs and expectations, such as, it has been whispered, he sometimes
vouchsafes to Botello. I have no crystal-imp like him indeed, but I
possess one consecrated gem that can call me up, at any time, a thousand
visions. It seems to me, too, that I can recall the dead; for once or
twice I have done it, though very much to my own marvelling."
"Thou art an enigma," said Don Amador. "What thou sayest of Botello,
assures me the more of thy subtle and penetrating observation; what thou
sayest of thyself, seems to me a jest; and yet it hath a singular
accordance, as well with my own foolish fancies and the charges of that
Moorish menial, as with the events of the two last nights. Either there
is, indeed, something very supernatural in thy knowledge, or the
delirium of my kinsman is a disease of the blood, which is beginning to
assail my own brain. God preserve me from madness! Hearken in thine ear,
(and fear not to answer me:)--Hadst thou any thing to do with the
raising of the phantom thou callest Zayda?--or is it the confusion of my
senses, that causes me to suspect thee of the agency?"
"Senor!" said the boy, in alarm, "you cannot think I was serious?"
"What didst thou mean, then, by acknowledging the possession of that
consecrated and vision-raising jewel?"
"I meant," responded the youth, sadly, "that, being a gift associated
with all the joys of my happiest days, I never look at it, or pray over
it, without being beset by recollections, which may well be called
visions; for they are representations of things that have passed away."
"And the story of Leila?--Pho--'tis an absurdity!--I have heard that the
cold which freezes men to death, begins by setting them to sleep. Sleep
brings dreams; and dreams are often most vivid and fantastical, before
we have yet been wholly lost in slumber. Perhaps 'tis this most biting
and benumbing blast, that brings me such phantoms. Art thou not very
cold?"
"Not very, senor: methinks we are descending; and now the winds are not
so frigid as before."
"I would to heaven, for the sake of us all, that we were descended yet
lower; for night approaches, and still we are stumbling among these
clouds, that seem to separate us from earth, without yet advancing us
nearer to heaven."
While the cavalier was yet speaking, there came from the van of the
army, very far in the distance, a shout of joy, that was caught up by
those who toiled in his neighbourhood, and continued by the squadrons
that brought up the rear, until finally lost among the echoes of remote
cliffs. He pressed forward with the animation shared by his companions,
and, still leading Jacinto, arrived, at last, at a place where the
mountain dipped downwards with so sudden and so precipitous a declivity,
as to interpose no obstacle to the vision. The mists were rolling away
from his feet in huge wreaths, which gradually, as they became thinner,
received and transmitted the rays of an evening sun, and were lighted up
with a golden and crimson radiance, glorious to behold, and increasing
every moment in splendour. As this superb curtain was parted from before
him, as if by cords that went up to heaven, and surged voluminously
aside, he looked over the heads of those that thronged the side of the
mountain beneath, and saw, stretching away like a picture touched by the
hands of angels, the fair valley imbosomed among those romantic hills,
whose shadows were stealing visibly over its western slopes, but leaving
all the eastern portion dyed with the tints of sunset. The green plains
studded with yet greener woodlands; the little mountains raising their
fairy-like crests; the lovely lakes, now gleaming like floods of molten
silver, where they stretched into the sunshine, and now vanishing away,
in a shadowy expanse, under the gloom of the growing twilight; the
structures that rose, vaguely and obscurely, here from their verdant
margins, and there from their very bosom, as if floating on their placid
waters, seeming at one time to present the image of a city crowned with
towers and pinnacles, and then again broken by some agitation of the
element, or confused by some vapour swimming through the atmosphere,
into the mere fragments and phantasms of edifices,--these, seen in that
uncertain and fading light, and at that misty and enchanting distance,
unfolded such a spectacle of beauty and peace as plunged the neophyte
into a revery of rapture. The trembling of the page's hand, a deep sigh
that breathed from his lips, recalled him to consciousness, without
however dispelling his delight.
"By the cross which I worship!" he cried, "it fills me with amazement,
to think that this cursed and malefactious earth doth contain a spot
that is so much like to paradise! Now do I remember me of the words of
the senor Gomez, that 'no man could conceive of heaven, till he had
looked upon the valley of Mexico,'--an expression which, at that time, I
considered very absurd, and somewhat profane; yet, if I am not now
mistaken, I shall henceforth, doubtless, when figuring to my imagination
the seats of bliss, begin by thinking of this very prospect."
"It is truly a fairer sight than any we saw in Florida, most noble
senor," said a voice hard by.
The cavalier turned, and with not less satisfaction than surprise, (for
the delight of the moment had greatly warmed his heart,) beheld, in the
person of the speaker, the master of the caravel.
"Oho! senor Capitan!" cried Don Amador, stretching out his hand to the
bowing commander. "I vow, I am as much rejoiced to see thee, as if we
had been companions together in war. What brings thee hither to look on
these inimitable landscapes? Art thou come, to disprove thy accounts of
the people of Tenochtitlan? I promise thee, I have heard certain
stories, and seen certain sights, which greatly shake my faith in thy
representations.--What news dost thou bring me of my kinsman, the
admiral?"
"Senor," said the master, "the stars have a greater influence over our
destinies, than have our desires. It seems to me, that that very
astonishing victory of the most noble and right valiant senor, Don
Hernan, at Zempoala, did utterly turn the brains of all the sailors in
the fleet: and his excellency the admiral having declared himself a
friend to the conqueror, they were all straightway seized with such an
ambition to exchange the handspike for the halbert, and mine own
thirteen vagabonds among them, that, in an hour's time after the news,
my good caravel was as well freed of men as ever I have known her
cleared of rats, after a smoking of brimstone. So, perceiving the folly
of remaining in her alone, and receiving the assurance from my knaves
that, if I went with them, I should be their captain, and his excellency
consenting to the same, I forthwith armed myself with these rusty
plates, (wherein you may see some of the dints battered by the red
devils of Florida,) and was converted into a soldier,--the captain of
the smallest company in this goodly army, and perhaps the most cowardly;
for never did I before hear men grumble with such profane discontent, as
did these same knaves, this very day, at the cold airs of the mountain.
If they will fight, well; if they will not, and anybody else will, may I
die the death of a mule, if I will not make them; for one hath a better
and stronger command in an army than in a ship. Last night I came to
that great town they call Cholula, and was confirmed in my command by
the general.--His excellency, the admiral, bade me commend his love to
your worship; and hearing that you have enlisted his secretary into your
service, sends, by me, a better suit of armour for the youth, and prays
your favour will have him in such keeping, that he shall be cured of his
fit of valour, without the absolute loss of life, or his right hand,
which last would entirely unfit him for returning to his ancient
duties,--as, by my faith! so would the former. But, by'r lady, my
thoughts run somewhat a wool-gathering at this prospect; for I see very
clearly, 'tis a rich land here, that hath such admirable cities; and, I
am told, we shall have blows enow, by and by, with the varlets in the
valley. Nevertheless, I am ready to wager my soul against a cotton
neck-piece, that, if these infidels have half the spirit of the savages
of Florida, we shall be beaten, and sent to heaven, Amen!--that is, for
the matter of heaven, and not the beating!"
"I applaud thy resolution, mine ancient friend," said the cavalier, "and
methinks thou art more vigorous, both of body and mind, on land than
thou wert at sea. I will, by and by, send the secretary to receive the
armour, and will not forget his excellency's bidding, as far as is
possible. But let us not, by conversation, distract our thoughts from
this most lovely spectacle; for I perceive it will be soon enveloped in
darkness; and how know we, we shall ever look upon it again?"
Thus terminating the interview, the neophyte, as he descended, watched
the unchanging yet ever beautiful picture, till the sun buried himself
among the mountains, and the shadows of night curtained it in obscurity.