It was not perhaps surprising that in so short a time the gay Chevalier
de Guise made some noise about the town. He had the trick of it. To
be secret, to lie close, seemed to be no part of his design. His
credentials were good, Losa's patronage carried him whithersoever
he listed, and he used it to the full. There was scarcely anyone in
Madrid who had not heard of the Chevalier, few who had not met him.
From the Court came no sign. Philip must ponder his reply, annotate the
despatch, sleep upon it, lay it aside to ponder it yet again. Those who
sought to hurry the Catholic King did so to their own despair. He would
do nothing without carefully weighing it; if his brain worked slowly he
at least was not aware of it. He was methodical, plodding, infinitely
conscientious, and he prided himself upon his cautious judgment.
For Philip to be dilatory up to a point suited Sir Nicholas very well,
since, as he saw it, nothing could be done in his affair while Dominica
still lay at Madrid. If Philip delayed too long, however, he would have
to employ another messenger to carry his answer back to the Guise. Sir
Nicholas would be very well pleased to get that answer into his own
hands, for it promised to be interesting to an English Protestant.
Walsingham would be glad of it, but Sir Nicholas had no notion of
serving Master Secretary to his own plan's undoing. There was food
enough for Walsingham in the Guise's cyphered letter, a copy of which
was safe in Beauvallet's possession. It concerned one Mary Stewart,
unfortunate lady, at present a state prisoner in England, and certain
illuminating schemes for her future as compiled by his Majesty King
Philip, and the Duc de Guise. Fine doings there! Enough to make Master
Secretary's hair stand on end.
For the rest Sir Nicholas went junketing about the town, and by the way
gleaned some useful information likely to interest not only Walsingham,
but Sir Francis Drake too, and not less the Lord Admiral, Howard of
Effingham. There was a fleet building in Cadiz harbour; Sir Nicholas
made copious mental notes of the size and strength of those tall
galleons, and even toyed with the notion of travelling south to see for
himself.
His behaviour during this period provoked nervous qualms in Joshua
Dimmock, who declared himself to be a meacock creature, and shivered
from time to time. He had reason for his qualms, for he had good
cause to know that never was Beauvallet so reckless as when he played
with danger on every hand. "Master," said he, "is there never one who
suspects?"
"Ay, the French Ambassador," Sir Nicholas answered. "One of his
satellites hath been set to question me--very cleverly, so he thought."
"God's me! this is to undo all! And you said, master?"
"Oh, I gave him a bountiful answer, be sure," was all he could get from
Sir Nicholas.
On Monday evening Dominica was to be seen at the Alepero house, off the
Calle Mayor. When Sir Nicholas could escape from the amiable clutches
of her aunt, he made his way to her side, ousted an admiring caballero
from his place of vantage there, and proceeded, to all appearances, to
pay his court to her.
Don Diego, watchful in the background, was swift to interpose his
presence, but got little by that.
"Ah, my bridal friend!" said Sir Nicholas, very urbane. "You are come
in a good hour, señor. Doña Beatrice is inquiring for you. You shall
not let us keep you."
"My mother, señor?" said Don Diego, glaring his disbelief.
"Your mother, my dear friend. You are loth to leave us, I perceive, and
I should be flattered but that I suspect the charms of this lady to be
the true cause." He bowed to Dominica.
"I cannot suppose, señor, that my mother's need of me is urgent," said
Don Diego, colder still.
"I am sure you underrate yourself," returned Sir Nicholas.
Don Diego looked furious, but did not see how he might remain. "I am
obliged to you, Chevalier," he said, mighty sarcastic. "I do not permit
myself to forget that you are a visitor to Spain." There was a good
deal of meaning to this. Dominica stirred uneasily, and shot a quick
look up at Sir Nicholas.
The mobile eyebrow was up; Sir Nicholas waited. Don Diego met his
look for a moment, then bowed ceremoniously, and walked away. They
understood one another well enough: what the tongues were not permitted
to say the eyes said fully.
"Oh, folly!" Dominica breathed. "Why anger him? To what purpose?"
Sir Nicholas was watching Don Diego go across the room. "I am certain
I shall not leave Spain until that paraquito and I have measured
swords," he said thoughtfully.
"Señor Nicholas, I do not think that I was ever afraid until I met
you," Dominica said. "Why will you do these things?"
He looked down at her. "What, afraid for me? Let be, child; there's no
need."
"You run on your fate!" she insisted.
He laughed impenitently. "I had liefer do that than run from it,
sweetheart," he said. "What news for me?"
Her face clouded. "Not as we had hoped, Señor Nicholas. The King puts
off his removal to Valladolid, and we wait upon him. My uncle is in
attendance till then, you see. But I think I could contrive a little."
She looked up inquiringly.
His eyes were warm with amusement. "Let me hear your plot, little
contriver."
"Then do not laugh at me--robber," she retaliated. "Don Miguel de Tobar
is coming to town, and he is my uncle upon my mother's side, and I am
very sure that he would like me for his son Miguel." She nodded wisely,
and compressed her lips.
"How she is sought after!" marvelled Sir Nicholas. "Surely it needs a
robber to win her."
A dimple quivered. "Maybe, señor. Now I think it would not suit my good
aunt to have me throw myself upon Don Miguel's protection, for he has
influence with the King, and he might well get an injunction to have
me away from the Carvalhos. I think, Señor Nicholas, that if I were to
talk roundabout a little they would be very glad to bear me away to
Vasconosa, out of reach of Don Miguel. And there marry me, doubtless,
but you will be at hand."
"Be very sure of it. Weave your toils, fondling, but walk warily, for I
misdoubt me that aunt of yours hath the seeing eye."
Her eyes sparkled with mockery. "A word out of your own mouth, Señor
Pirate--trust me."
At his mother's side Don Diego learned with little surprise but
considerable annoyance that she could not remember to have inquired for
him. She seemed amused when she heard how he had been sent off. "The
rogue!" she said, and chuckled.
"This cousin of mine who will not think of espousals!" said Don Diego.
"She is willing enough to have that French ruffler whisper honeywords
in her ear. Mark you that!"
"Of course she is," agreed Doña Beatrice. "I have no doubt he is very
adroit. If you were more of his complexion, my son, you might make
better speed with her."
Don Diego made what speed he could next day, when he offered Dominica
his hand and his heart, and spoke his piece in passionate terms. She
saw her opportunity in this, and was quick to seize on it. Don Diego
was bidden take both hand and heart elsewhere; he pressed his suit more
ardently, dared to attempt a kiss. She whisked herself out of his hold,
flew into a royal rage, and flounced away to find her aunt.
Doña Beatrice was confronted by Flaming Indignation in a charming form,
and blinked at it.
"Señora!" broke out Dominica, panting over it. "I have to complain of
my cousin! I thought you had understood me very well when I told you
that I had no mind to wed with him, yet to-day I am to be teased, it
seems, by his demanding of my hand, and more beside! Ah, more indeed!"
Her eyes flashed sparks, her tongue darted its rage. "Your son, señora,
dares to lay hands on me! I am to be mauled like any kitchen-wench! I!
I say it is not to be borne, señora, nor will I bear it. This is no way
to go to work with me. You must learn, señora, and your son with you
that I am not to be so entreated, no, not I! And if you will not learn,
then my uncle of Tobar shall hear of it. What, am I--Rada y Sylva!--to
have easy kisses thrust on me, hateful fondlings, unmannerly hugs? No,
señora, no!" Her cheeks flew storm signals; she had her hands clenched
hard at her sides.
Doña Beatrice put by the book of poems she had been reading, but
continued to fan herself. She watched closely under her weary eyelids.
"Well, you are in a great heat," she remarked. "But what is all this to
the purpose? If you do not like Diego's kisses my advice to you is that
you wed him with speed, for if he is at all my son he will very soon
cease to want what he may have for the mere asking."
Real anger leaped up; my lady seemed to grow taller with it, a very
goddess. "This is to insult me! Nasty talk, señora! Shameful talk!
Well, my uncle is coming to town, as I hear, and in a good hour! Do you
think, señora, that he will approve your plans for me? Do you think it
indeed?"
"I do not," said Doña Beatrice patiently. "I think he has some little
plans of his own for you, my dear, but, believe me, they differ in
only the one particular from mine, that he would change the name of
your bridegroom."
"Señora, be assured of this, that any bridegroom were less distasteful
to me than your son!" said Dominica.
"You have not seen young Miguel de Tobar," her aunt reminded her. "I
concede you Diego is not a Chevalier de Guise, my dear, but he is far
preferable to Miguel."
"The Chevalier de Guise!" cried out Dominica hotly. "What is the
Chevalier de Guise to me? You do not put me off so, señora! I will have
a plain answer from you: will you seek another bride for my cousin?"
"I thought we understood one another better, my dear," complained Doña
Beatrice. "Of course I shall not."
"Then my uncle shall hear of it, señora. You force me to it. If he
thinks that I am content to serve the interest of Carvalho he shall
know that it is not so."
Doña Beatrice went on fanning herself; her smile broadened. "How
foolish of you to warn me, my dear!" she remarked. "You should not
let yourself be in such a passion. You show me your defences, which
is quite ridiculous of you. I fear you will never win in a battle of
wits with me. Now had you curbed your temper, my dear, you would have
carried out this plan of yours in secret, and discomposed me sadly. I
should certainly have respected you." She picked up the book of poems
again, and began to find her place in it. "Of course you will be away
from Madrid by the time Tobar enters it."
Dominica knew those sleepy eyes watched her still. There was no saying
what Doña Beatrice suspected, what traps she might be laying. The girl
let her eyes fall, bit her lips, moved a hand amongst the laces at her
bosom as though she were agitated. Her wits against her aunt's? She
was very content to set them up for a battle; played her little comedy
better even than she knew. "Aunt!" She pretended to seek for words, put
her hands together as though she would clasp them, moved them apart
again. Her eyes lifted; she tossed up her head. "And I will still find
means to let him know how you use me!" she cried. "You may do as you
please, señora, but you will not induce me to wed with Don Diego!" She
judged that to be enough: there had been sufficient childish petulance
in her voice to satisfy her aunt. She flung round on her heel, and ran
out.
Doña Beatrice went on reading her poems. At dinner, some hours later,
she spoke to her husband in a slow, lazy voice, and with a glance of
amusement at Dominica. "I find, señor," she said, "that these heats tax
me too much. Madrid becomes insupportable."
Don Rodriguez was all solicitude at once, wondering fussily what might
be done to relieve the lady. She broke into his talk. "I have a simpler
remedy than these of yours, señor. I shall go to Vasconosa ahead of
you." She paused, and pulled a dish of sugar-plate towards her. "To-day
is Tuesday," she remarked. "Shall we say a week from to-day?"
Don Diego looked sharply; Dominica kept her eyes down. She judged from
her aunt's faintly derisive tone that she had ascertained the date of
Tobar's arrival in Madrid. She could have wished it had been nearer,
since every day Sir Nicholas spent in Madrid added to his danger.
There could be no peace for her while he stayed. A grim fear stalked
beside her; every day she dreaded to hear of his capture; every time
she saw him his very carelessness brought her heart into her mouth.
There was a price to be paid by the lady who was loved by Mad Nicholas.
He came that evening to wait on Doña Beatrice. It seemed he had an
assignation with her; she had lent him a Romance, and he came to give
it back to her, and stayed on talking French with her.
His audacity passed all bounds, Dominica thought. She withdrew towards
the window, and looked severely when he flung a compliment, like a
challenge, at her. She bore herself like a maid whose primness was
shocked; only he was to know that her reproachful look was to reprimand
his recklessness, not his gallantry.
She wondered whether she dared tell him that she was to leave Madrid
that next week. While she sought in her mind for a phrase that should
seem innocent enough, her aunt took the words out of her mouth.
Having got the information he wanted Sir Nicholas soon took his leave.
There was some idle play between him and Doña Beatrice; Dominica had to
bite her lip to keep from smiling. Sir Nicholas humoured Doña Beatrice
to the top of her bent, whispered his audacities into her receptive
ear, and showed his watchful lady very plainly that he knew well what
way to use with her sex. But even as he devoutly kissed Doña Beatrice's
large white hand he shot a rueful, laughing look at Dominica, as though
to deprecate her silent reproof.
He came to take his leave of her; she was on tenterhooks at what his
mad humour might prompt him to say or do, and curtsied very stiffly.
She would not look at him as she held out her hand. It lay in his, held
firmly, but he did not kiss it at once. His voice sounded, brimful of
teasing mischief, "But how she is cold!" he said.
She tried to draw her hand away; she was near to boxing his ears.
"My dear Chevalier, you have shocked my niece," said Doña Beatrice,
amused. "She is unused to your French ways. We do not go to work so
hardily in Spain."
"Have I shocked her? Will she not look at me, and smile at me as she
knows how?"
At that her eyes lifted. She had no smile for him, but a straight look,
a little fierce. She saw the laugh dancing in his eyes, and dropped her
own again. "I fear she is very angry with me," said Sir Nicholas sadly.
"She frowns, alas! I think if she had--let us say, a dagger--to hand, I
were sped."
Her hand quivered. "You are pleased to jest, señor."
He bent his head, and kissed her fingers. "Señorita, my heart is under
your feet."
"Chevalier, Chevalier, you are a trifler!" said Doña Beatrice. "A
moment since I had thought it was under mine."
Dominica got her hand free at last. Sir Nicholas turned to Doña
Beatrice. "Ah, madame," he said, "you are severe. But I have so many
hearts."
She laughed. "Ungallant, I protest! And is there ever a one among the
many that will be true, I wonder? Oh, these Frenchmen!"
"Only one, madame," said Sir Nicholas meekly.
She raised her brows, willing to be entertained. "Ah? To whom this one?"
"Madame, to my betrothed," said Sir Nicholas, "She hath it all."
She shrugged at that. "Why, it's very dutiful, señor, but I wonder what
you will say--a year hence?"
Dominica turned her back, and looked out into the garden.
"Oh, it is of so faithful a disposition, madame, I am very sure
I shall but repeat myself. But I shall still have a heart to lay
in--admiration--at your feet." Upon which he took his leave, not before
it was time, thought Dominica.
Her aunt began to talk of the coming journey to Vasconosa.
But there was to be another traveller bound thitherwards of whom she
knew nothing. Back at the Rising Sun again Sir Nicholas studied such
maps as he could come by, and conned the road as best he might. Joshua
Dimmock, watching, took heart again, and said darkly to the coat he
was folding that the sooner they were off upon this journey the better
it would be for them. "Yet," said he, brushing dust from a pair of
hose, "I must ask myself, what if the _Venture_ be not there? With the
General not on board it is to be questioned whether she may keep safe
in Spanish waters. Ay, there's a rub." He eyed his master's abstracted
profile, and sighed. "We may make marks upon a map, I grant you, and
mutter of stages, but I hold, and mark me well, that we may not be
sure of a happy issue. I had rather than fifty pounds I were snug
at home. It needs not to tell me that we shall make that smuggling
port. I make bold to say that we may do that in spite of all these
bisson Spaniards. But how if we come upon this port, and find no ship
awaiting? Ay, then we are shent. We spend the remainder of our days in
Spain, and they will not be many, I warrant me! All to hang upon the
_Venture_, and the _Venture_ sailing without her General! Ah, the whole
emprise is very barful."
Beauvallet looked up. "Peace, chewet! What ails you?"
"This ails me, master, that you have not the means to be avised of the
_Venture's_ being in these waters."
"Am I so often disobeyed then?"
"Nay, I do not say that, sir, nor would I doubt the good faith of
Master Dangerfield, but I say, master, that he is not Sir Nicholas
Beauvallet, and he may well fail."
"Oh, croaker! You bring up objections cut and longtail. You're
bird-eyed, man, and see danger in every corner. Diccon has as cool a
head as you may wish to see, and has my orders to go upon beside. I
don't fear for aught there. What, would my men fail me when I was in
need?"
"Nay, nay, but if you fear naught there, master, what is it you do
fear?"
"To say truth." Beauvallet answered. "I mislike the look of yon French
Ambassador."
"For my part, sir, I mislike that popinjay cousin of your lady's. If
he is not of a mind to pick a quarrel with you I do not know the signs
when a man will be in fighting humour."
"God help him, then!" Beauvallet said, and bent again over his map. "My
lady goes to Vasconosa on Tuesday next. Now, it is in my mind that we
will attend her on that journey."
"Ay, and then, master?"
"God's Death, man, how do I know who have not seen the place. We shall
carry her off, and to the coast. Ask me more when I know more."
"I fear a mischance," Joshua said sadly. "This runs too smoothly for a
coil of yours, sir."
Beauvallet folded his map, and put it safely away. There was a look in
his face that Joshua had seen there once or twice before. "Fear what
you will," said Sir Nicholas, "and let come what may. I tell you, by
this hand, I will reach Vasconosa, and have my lady away before she has
slept two nights in the place!"