Cielos en que ha se parar
Tan dificultosa empresa?
_Lope de Vega._
Quoi! tant de perfidie avec tant de courage?
De crimes, de vertus, quel horrible assemblage!
_Voltaire._
After the defeat of his companions at Alhacen, and the total
annihilation of their hopes and resources in that quarter, Bermudo the
renegade had prudently fled to Granada. He knew he should be in greater
security in that city, from the mixed intercourse of Moors and
Christians, than by continuing in the wandering habits of a mountain
life, now circumvented with numberless dangers from the active searches
which the Christians were making to destroy every rebel that might be
surprised lurking in suspicious places. The same course had been pursued
by a considerable number of the dispersed Moors, whilst others, less
enterprising or more cautious, had concealed themselves in obscure
caverns and hiding places.
The renegade was one of the first that had arrived at Granada; and
prudently mingling with the crowd of joyous Christians, feigned to be
exceedingly interested in the solemnity of the day, when his attention
was forcibly attracted by the appearance of a cavalcade in which he
recognized an object already familiar to his sight. Great as his
surprise was, he could not entertain a doubt that it was Theodora
herself, Caneri's fair captive, who now unexpectedly struck his view. An
impulse of curiosity induced him to follow her, until he perceived that
she was safely lodged in the mansion of Aguilar. From that instant,
Bermudo had unremittingly devoted his time to investigating this
occurrence. He learnt with pleasure that his hated foe was still alive.
Nay, he had actually seen him; and, fervently bent on prosecuting every
scheme that might hold out a probability of forwarding his views of
vengeance, he had succeeded in his first inquiries to the full extent of
his wishes. He had learnt the approaching wedding of Gomez Arias, and,
remembering the circumstance of Theodora's lamentations and despair on
the supposed death of that individual, he naturally concluded that there
was some mystery, which, if discovered, might be easily converted to his
own advantage.
He had therefore artfully sought an acquaintance with Roque, the
acknowledged servant of Gomez Arias, and partly by insidious questions,
and partly by his own penetration, he had drawn the conclusion that
Theodora was the forsaken mistress of Gomez Arias, brought by chance to
the very scene of his expectations, and who, if apprised of her lover's
treachery, would afford a powerful obstacle to his views. The renegade
therefore seized the favorable opportunity which presented itself, to
accomplish the ruin of his hated foe, and determined to neglect no
means of accomplishing the revenge which had been his solitary pursuit
for many years. But his plan of operations was as deep and intricate as
the motive that directed him was dark and diabolical. Finding that Roque
absolutely refused to open his proposal to his master, he resolved to
break the matter to him in person, and with this intention had proceeded
to the public walks, as already mentioned. His artful and wily behavour,
assisted by the distracting position of Don Lope's affairs, had betrayed
the latter into that snare which the renegade had so cunningly devised,
and which, if followed up with success, would lead the unwary Gomez
Arias towards a labyrinth, in the mazes of which his destruction might
be easily completed.
Thus Bermudo could not conceal his inward satisfaction when he found
himself possessed of the ring of Gomez Arias--a ring which he well
recollected had been the gift of Queen Isabella,--a precious gage,
which, in the process of his fiendish machinations, might contribute
materially to their successful termination. While on the one hand the
renegade was thus awaiting with anxiety the result of every move in his
diabolical game, and Don Lope on the other was congratulating himself
upon the speedy close of his heartless compact, the lovely but
unfortunate subject of both speculations was happy in comparative
tranquillity at the palace of her preserver.
In perfect obedience to the urgent and repeated injunctions of her
lover, Theodora kept herself in seclusion in her apartment. Implicitly
confiding in the promises and vows of Don Lope, and fondly indulging in
dreams of future bliss, she nevertheless felt a degree of disquietude,
natural to the high excitement into which her feelings had been thrown.
The morning came--the morning of that eventful day, and the commotion
which prevailed throughout the palace, failed not to interest Theodora,
although the cause admitted of various interpretations. Now she fondly
imagined that Gomez Arias had already sought an interview with Aguilar,
and made the necessary disclosures; and then again she shuddered at the
idea that the fond wishes in which she had indulged might never be
realized.
This state of anxiety and suspense was fortunately interrupted by
Lisarda, who burst abruptly into the room with looks of visible alarm.
She turned about without ceremony, and before Theodora could collect her
thoughts to inquire into the reason of this perturbation--
"_Santos Cielos!_" she exclaimed, "here are fine doings! that it should
come to this! fye--shame! precisely at the very moment that---- well,
before I would consent to be treated in this manner, I'd suffer my eyes
to be plucked out, and my tongue torn from the very root. After so much
preparation! Lord! Lord! to disappoint a whole family and throw so many
honorable people into confusion!"
Here the good Lisarda was compelled to take breath, of which Theodora
most opportunely availed herself to inquire into the cause of the
disturbance.
"Now, gentle Lisarda," she said "tell me what has happened? No disaster
to the family; I hope?"
"Alas!" screamed out Lisarda, perfectly recovered from her exhaustion,
"your hopes, lady, unhappily, cannot prevent the disaster, for truly a
most terrible disaster it is,--fraud and insolence, and most abominable
perjury is in the case, I am sure. Yes, the family has been treated this
morning with the most untimely and vexatious incivility. Such a breach
of delicacy and decorum never did I witness before. _Virgen Santa!_ how
will this end? The Lord knows that I, for my part, never felt tranquil
on the score of the gallant.--No, no; I always said Don Rodrigo for my
money--but that is neither here nor there; the evil is done, and we must
stand the results. Really it is provoking--such a beautiful dress I had
prepared, and now to defer the ceremony!"
"Defer what ceremony?" eagerly inquired Theodora.
"The wedding to be sure," responded Lisarda. "What, did I not tell you
before?"
"In sooth you did not."
"Really? God defend us! I am a most thoughtless silly girl, that is
certain. Why, my good lady, what should be deferred but the wedding?"
"And that is the misfortune, then, which has occasioned such uncommon
signs of regret?" demanded Theodora, scarcely able to conceal her inward
satisfaction.
"To be sure, lady; and by my troth, it strikes me that the subject is
well worthy the mortification it has caused us all. Good heavens! had
the accident happened to you, my sweet lady, perchance you might not be
inclined to endure it so philosophically. But the Lord save me! if you
do not appear to rejoice in this calamity!"
"Rejoice! heavens! what do you mean?" cried Theodora, blushing deeply,
and striving to conceal her emotion. "What can induce you to suppose I
could have so perverse a disposition, as to rejoice at an event that is
evidently annoying and distressing to my kind and generous benefactor?"
"Dear lady, take not amiss my observation, but as sure as I am a
Christian, and hope for salvation, you are much altered for the better
since yesterday."
Having communicated the news of the palace to her fair charge, the good
Lisarda bustled away to learn further particulars. Theodora soon after
received a visit from the noble Don Alonso, on whose countenance were
strongly depicted the signs of displeasure. Theodora easily divined the
cause, and though she rejoiced in the termination of an event, in which
her happiness was so deeply interested, she could not suppress a
sensation of generous pity, at the idea that she was the immediate,
though innocent, cause of her benefactor's disappointment.
With the simplicity congenial to her nature, she more than once during
this interview felt a strong desire to throw herself at the feet of
Aguilar, and frankly to avow the whole of her melancholy tale; yet she
was restrained from following the genuine impulse of her heart, when
she recollected her lover's absolute command. Thus, although her
delicacy and frankness were hurt at the duplicity she was compelled to
use towards one by whom she had been rescued from the most appalling
fate, she stifled the suggestions of sincerity, to observe implicitly
the wishes of a man who was even then planning her future misery and
misfortune. Nor was this the only trial that Theodora had to sustain.
She had been obliged to resist the invitation of Aguilar, who repeatedly
pressed her to make her appearance in the grand saloon, and she had the
mortification of suspecting, that an unfavorable construction was put
upon her denial. They might attribute to female caprice, or a want of
proper feelings for a generous benefactor, that which in reality was the
mere effect of a sensitive mind and a devoted heart.
Theodora underwent all these trials with patient resignation, in the
fond expectation of a speedy deliverance from her present irksome
situation. In this uninterrupted succession of doubt and fear she spent
the long and tedious day, and hailed with transport the arrival of
night, which was now enveloping in her sable mantle the proud turrets
and lofty buildings of Granada.