GUESTS AT THE CASTLE--THE HEIR OF LUNNASTING--LAWRENCE BRINDISTER'S
CAVE.
For a long time after Hilda's return to Lunnasting, Bertha Eswick feared
that the mind of her young mistress had gone for ever. All the aid
which medical skill could afford appeared to be of no avail; the only
person who had in the slightest degree the power of arousing her
sufficiently to speak was Father Mendez--the means he employed no one
could discover. He would sit with her in a turret chamber for hours
together; and after several weeks had passed, she was heard talking
fluently and rapidly with him; but as soon as she entered the hall,
where she took her seat as usual, she relapsed into the most perfect
silence. When, however, the priest addressed her, she answered him
readily, though briefly, but seemed to be totally unconscious of the
presence of any one else. The condition of the unfortunate lady was a
sufficient reason for Father Mendez remaining at Lunnasting; indeed, he
remarked that he should consider himself guilty of the greatest cruelty
should he take his departure till the return of her father and sister.
There was no one besides Hilda of sufficient authority in the castle to
request him to go, so he remained on. No news had been received of Sir
Marcus Wardhill and his daughter, and it was supposed that they were
entirely ignorant of the strange occurrences which had taken place.
Pedro Alvarez likewise continued to live on at the castle; when he had
learned enough English to express himself, he offered several excellent
reasons for remaining. In the first place, he said that Don Hernan had
confided his wife to his charge, as with a prescience of what was to
occur, just before the shipwreck; and that at that awful moment he had
vowed to devote himself to her interests as long as his life should
last. He also frankly confessed that he had no means of returning home;
he had written to Spain for a remittance, as well as to announce the
loss of the corvette, and till his cash arrived he could not go away,
even if he wished to do so. Father Mendez also stated that it was the
wish of his late captain's widow that the lieutenant should continue a
guest at the castle, as long as he found it convenient to remain.
Pedro Alvarez and Lawrence after a time became very great friends. They
boated, and fished, and shot together; and Lawrence assisted him very
much in learning English. When, however, the days grew shorter, and the
nights longer and colder, he shrugged his shoulders, and complained that
the time was very dull. He had, however, by his frank, open, and
unpretending manners, and quiet habits, won very much upon the good
opinion of Bertha Eswick, who declared that she would far rather have
his society at the castle than that of Father Mendez, whose ways and
notions she could by no means understand, although she owned that he
spoke far better English, and that no fault could be found with the
courtesy and gentleness of his manners. Neither of them gave any
trouble. Father Mendez especially was satisfied with the simplest fare.
Plain water formed his beverage, eggs and fish his principal food.
Pedro Alvarez preferred as great a variety as he could get, and several
times descended to the kitchen to instruct Moggie Druster, the cook, in
the art of concocting dishes in the Spanish fashion, of which oil (and
of that there was an ample supply in Shetland) formed one of the chief
ingredients. He was made perfectly happy too with a package of tobacco,
which Rolf Morton obtained for him from Lerwick, and which he employed
his leisure moments in converting into cigarettes. Lawrence Brindister
also still further added to his satisfaction, by putting into his hands
five goodly volumes, on opening which he found to be Spanish; travels,
histories, and a romance--subjects exactly suited to the worthy Pedro's
tastes. They were strangely battered, and stained as with salt water.
How he had obtained them Lawrence would not say. The priest saw the
books, but turned away from them with a disdainful glance, as if he
could take no interest in subjects of a character so trivial. The
contrast between the two strangers was very great. Pedro Alvarez was in
figure more like an English sailor than a Spaniard. He was somewhat
short, and broad-shouldered, and stout, with a frank, open, and ruddy,
though sunburnt countenance; his large black sparkling eyes, beaming
with good humour, spoke of the southern clime which gave him birth, as
did his black curling moustache, and hair of the same hue. Father
Mendez, on the other hand, was thin in the extreme, with sallow
complexion, and sharp features, but his countenance showed that he
possessed a peculiarly intelligent and acute intellect. It could not be
said that there was anything unpleasing in the expression of his
features; it was rather the total want of expression which they
mechanically assumed when he was conversing, or when he was aware that
he was observed, of which any one would complain. It was not a stolid
look which he put on, but rather that of a person totally unconscious of
what was passing around; indeed, so perfect was the composure of every
muscle of his face, that it looked completely like a mask with a pair of
bright eyes gleaming through it. Though he kept those eyes perfectly
fixed, he had not succeeded in obscuring at pleasure their brightness.
Nothing could surpass the subdued gentleness of the tone of voice in
which he generally spoke, though he could at will raise it in a way to
astonish his hearers.
The long winter of Shetland was passing slowly by, without any events of
interest occurring in the neighbourhood of Lunnasting; the time was
drawing on when it would be necessary for Rolf Morton to go south to
look out for a ship, unless he would altogether give up his profession
and chance of promotion; but he was naturally unwilling to leave home
till his wife had made him a father, which she expected in a very short
time to do. It was also generally understood that the unhappy Hilda
would shortly become a mother, and already a very general feeling of
compassion was expressed for the poor little fatherless babe which was
about to be born. How would the poor lady get through her trials? Was
she likely to live? If the child lived, would it be the heir of
Lunnasting? Or should its father have been heir to estates, and a title
in Spain, as it had been said he was, would it succeed instead of him?
These and numerous other questions of a similar character were asked
over and over again, but were never satisfactorily answered. Letters
had been received from Sir Marcus, but he fixed no time for his return
home, and it was very evident from the tenor of his remarks that he
believed everything was going on in his castle as he had left it. He
might possibly have been rather astonished had he heard what had
occurred. The truth was, that neither had his factor Sandy Redland, nor
any one else, ventured to write to him, and very naturally Hilda had not
done so; Sandy was a man who liked to live a peaceable life, and to have
matters his own way, and he knew very well that, should Sir Marcus be
hurried back, not only would all peace and quiet be banished from
Lunnasting, but he would most certainly for the future have nothing
whatever his own way. It is possible that Sir Marcus was not the only
head of a family who might have cause to be astonished at the doings of
his household during his absence. At length a packet of letters arrived
from Spain. It contained some for Don Hernan, as well as for other
deceased officers of the "Saint Cecilia;" one was for Pedro Alvarez, and
several were addressed to Father Mendez, who likewise took possession of
all the rest. The lieutenant read his despatch with a great deal of
interest.
"And so our poor captain would have been a marquis," he exclaimed to
himself, "the Marquis de Medea, and owner of those magnificent estates.
Well, truly he had something to live for, and yet he was cut off--while
I who have not a peco beyond my pay, and little enough of that, have
been allowed to remain in existence. I cannot understand these
matters--it is very strange; still, I will not forget my vow. I
promised that poor fellow to look after his widow, and if she has a son,
I will, to the best of my humble power, see that his interests are not
neglected. Now I wonder what information Father Mendez has received.
He must have heard that Don Hernan, had he lived, would have succeeded
to this title and these estates. The letters to the captain, which he
has opened, cannot fail of speaking of the matter. Probably they are
written expressly to give the information. I wonder, now, whether the
father will say anything about it. Well, he does not love me, and I do
not trust him, and I will watch him narrowly, and see if I cannot be as
close as he can. Bah! if all men would be honest it would save a great
deal of trouble. If Donna Hilda's child should be a girl there will be
very little for me to do in the affair; she cannot, I suspect, inherit
either the title or estates. If the child is a boy he will be the
rightful heir, there is no doubt about that; but then he will find a
mortal enemy in Don Hernan's cousin, Don Anibal Villavicencio, who will
stir heaven and earth to keep the boy out of his rights; the moment he
hears of Don Hernan's death he will take possession of the property and
assume the title. I must find out what tack Father Mendez is sailing
on. Is he in the interest of the living marquis, or of the unborn baby?
He is never happy unless he is playing some deep game or other. I
suspect that he is waiting to see how things turn out. At all events,
though he beats me hollow in an argument, I'll try whether in a good
cause I cannot outmanoeuvre him. He does not want for money, that I
know. He has his belt stuffed full of gold pieces even now, so the want
of means to go away does not keep him here. Why he does not offer some
to me to get me away I do not know. Probably he looks on me as a rough,
untutored sailor, and despises me too much to dread my interference with
his plans. Perhaps he intends to buy me over, and to make use of me to
aid him. He knows himself pretty well, and thinks all men are likewise
rogues. He will be rather astonished if he finds that he has been
outwitted by a straightforward, honest sailor."
At length the event for some time looked for, both at the castle and the
cottage, occurred. Bertha Morton presented her husband with a fine boy,
and scarcely had the young gentleman--Ronald Morton he was to be
called--given notice of his arrival in the world by a lusty fit of
crying, and had been exhibited in due form to his father, than the wise
woman who attended on such occasions was now moving in hot haste to the
castle of Lunnasting, to afford her aid to Donna Hilda, who was, it is
said, in sore pain and distress. Alas! she had no fond husband to cheer
and console her; no one to whom she could show with pride and joy the
little creature about to be born into the world. Bertha Eswick had
expressed her hopes that the child would be a girl. A lassie, she
observed, would be a comfort and a companion to the poor lady, who would
herself be able to instruct her, and would ever keep her by her side;
whereas a boy must be sent away to school, and would then have to go
into the world, where he would again see little or nothing of his poor
mother.
Father Mendez and Pedro Alvarez were walking up and down, but not
together, on the sunny side of the court-yard. It was the only spot,
they declared, in the whole island where they could be sheltered from
the biting keenness of the wind, and feel any of the warmth to which
they were accustomed in their own country. Both were anxious to hear
whether a son or daughter was born to the lady of the mansion. Pedro
Alvarez was certainly the least anxious.
While the two foreigners were thus engaged, Moggie Druster, the cook,
put her head out of a window and shouted--
"It's a braw laddie, sirs--a fine strapping bairn. It's like to do
weel, and so is it's mother, poor lady."
"A what do you say it is, Mistress Moggie?" asked Father Mendez.
"A braw laddie; a big bouncing boy, ye would ca' him in English,"
answered Moggie, with a slight touch of scorn in her tone.
"A boy!" exclaimed the priest and the lieutenant almost at the same
moment.
The priest took several rapid turns up and down the courtyard with
compressed lips and knitted brow, but said nothing.
"And how goes the poor lady?" inquired Pedro Alvarez. "And good
Mistress Moggie," he continued, going up to her and whispering, "I tell
her that her husband's warmest friend is ready and at hand to assist and
comfort her, as far as he has the power."
"Ay, that will I, Mr Pedro; ye are a kind-hearted gentleman, that ye
are," answered Moggie, whose heart the honest lieutenant had completely
won, in return for the culinary instruction he had afforded her.
Poor Bertha Eswick was nearly worn to death from hurrying between her
daughter's cottage and the castle, though her young mistress required,
and certainly obtained, by far the greatest share of her care. Healthy,
however, as Bertha Morton had always appeared, soon after the birth of
her child she caught a cold, and this produced an illness which made her
mother and husband very anxious about her, and it became too evident,
before long, to the anxious eyes of affection, that she held her life on
a most precarious tenure. Hilda, on the contrary, seemed completely
restored to health, both of body and mind. She had now a deeply
interesting object in existence, and all her thoughts and attention were
devoted to her infant.
Lawrence Brindister did not return to the castle till late in the day on
which Hilda's child was born. He received the announcement with a look
of incredulity on his countenance.
"And so you tell me that an heir to Lunnasting is born," he exclaimed to
Bertha Eswick, whom he met as she was hurrying down for the first time
from her mistress's chamber. "Ha, ha, ha! how many heirs to Lunnasting
are there, think ye? Never mind, good Bertha, `The prince will hae his
ain again! The prince will hae his ain again!' Who is the prince,
think ye, Bertha? Ye little ken, but I do; the fool knows more than the
wise man, or the wise woman either ha, ha, ha!"
These remarks sorely puzzled Bertha Eswick, and made her think a great
deal; she knew Lawrence Brindister thoroughly, and seldom failed to
distinguish between the mere hallucinations which occasionally took
possession of his mind, and the ideas which originated from facts. "If
Marcus Wardhill is not the rightful possessor of Lunnasting, who can be
the owner?" she asked herself, over and over again.
Several weeks passed by, and young Don Hernan, for so Hilda's new-born
babe was called, gave every promise of being a remarkably healthy and
robust child. Father Mendez seemed deeply interested in it, and took
every opportunity of watching its progress, and examining it to
ascertain that it was a thoroughly well-made healthy child.
At length the father gave notice that he was going to Lerwick: he went,
and some of the household declared that they breathed far more freely
than they had done for a very long time. Pedro Alvarez walked about
with a more self-confident air than usual, and Lawrence sang and laughed
and rattled away as had been his custom in former days; even Hilda
looked as if she had been relieved of an incubus which had depressed her
spirits. She said nothing; she did not even mention the name of Father
Mendez, but if by chance she heard it, she gave a slight shudder, while
the frown which grew on her brow showed that whatever the influence he
had gained over her, it was not of a nature to which she willingly
submitted. He had announced that he should not be absent more than
three or four days; but more than a week elapsed and he did not return.
As no one wished him back, this caused more surprise than regret. Ten
days, then a fortnight, passed by, and the priest did not appear. At
last Pedro Alvarez whispered his suspicions to Lawrence Brindister that
the reverend father had played them a slippery trick, and left Shetland
altogether; this idea was found to be correct, when Sandy McNab, the
pedlar and great news-monger of the district, paid his next visit to
Whalsey. A foreigner who, though somewhat disguised, was recognised as
the Spanish priest, Father Mendez, had been observed going on board a
ship bound for the south, and he had not since then been seen in
Lerwick. The lieutenant was more than usually agitated when he heard
this. "There is some mischief brewing," he observed, the first moment
he found Lawrence alone. "You and I must try to fathom it, if we can.
You can be secret, Mr Lawrence, and with such a man as that cunning
priest to contend, with, we need all the caution we can exercise."
"Mum's the word with me," answered Lawrence, looking very sagacious; "I
love not the priest more than you do, for I believe he would not scruple
to stick a dagger in the back of his brother if that brother stood in
the way of any object he wished to attain. What he aims at I do not
know: whether or not he wishes to advance the interests of Hilda's
child, is what I want to discover."
Pedro shook his head. "Not he, Mr Lawrence," he answered: "he cares
not for the fatherless or the widow. I have watched him narrowly: his
aim was to get Donna Hilda completely under his thumb, so that he might
rule her and her child. While he thought that there was a prospect of
success he remained on here, but when he at length discovered that he
had totally failed, or that he could not depend for an instant on
maintaining his influence, he at once altered his whole plan. You must
understand that when we left Spain there were three persons in existence
who would by law succeed to the title and estates of the Marquis of
Medea before Don Hernan de Escalante. He often told me that he himself
never expected to inherit the property, and that he must find some other
means of improving his fortunes. It is my belief, however, that Father
Mendez, by some of the wonderful means at his disposal, knew that these
three persons would die before our return, and that he accompanied us
for the very purpose of obtaining an influence over Don Hernan, that his
order might thus benefit by the wealth which would be at his disposal.
He knew Don Hernan sufficiently to believe that he should obtain that
influence, and he probably would have succeeded. Now, however, he is
playing another game; he can have no sure hold over a person of so
uncertain a mind as Donna Hilda, and he has now returned to Spain that
he may be able to make his bargain with Don Anibal Villavicencio, who
has already succeeded to the property. Just consider the immense
influence he will have over him when he is able to prove that there is
an heir alive, who, if produced, will turn him out of the estates and
title. What do you say to the question, Mr Lawrence? Do you think I
am right in my suspicions?"
"Ay, that I do, most sagacious mariner," answered Lawrence, who had
really comprehended the tenor of these remarks; they were of course made
in much more broken English than has been used. "The priest may be an
honest priest, as he is undoubtedly a most polite gentleman; and his
ways may be good ways, in his own sight, though they are not my ways;
but that he is not labouring for the good of the poor little fatherless
child up there, I am clearly of opinion."
"So far we are agreed, my friend," said the lieutenant; "but when the
boy succeeds his grandfather, and becomes the owner of the property, he
will be able with his own right arm, or rather with his well-filled
purse, which is better than a strong arm to him, to establish his rights
to his Spanish estates and proper rank."
"Ah, there a fool may by chance know more than a wise man, friend
Pedro," observed Lawrence, rubbing the side of his nose with his
forefinger. "Come along with me, most worthy lieutenant, and I will
show you matters which will astonish you."
Pedro Alvarez accepted the invitation, and the two oddly-matched friends
set out together, towards the east end of the island. Lawrence turned
several times to observe if they were watched, and then continued his
course across heathery moorland, and valley, and swamp, as rapidly as
before.
"I know this spot, surely," observed Pedro Alvarez; "it is where the
Catholic chapel stands."
"The same, friend mariner," answered Lawrence; "but we have nothing to
do with the chapel just now: keep close at my heels, or rather step
exactly where I step, or you may chance to have a tumble to the bottom
of the cliff, with a broken neck as the consequence."
Lawrence, as he spoke, reached the brow of the cliff; he slid over it,
and dropped himself down on a narrow ledge which appeared to afford
scarcely room for his feet to rest. He went on, leaning against the
side of the cliff for a short distance, and then let himself down in the
same manner that he had before done. The Spanish officer at first
hesitated to follow, but a laugh from Lawrence made him ashamed of
himself, and when he reached the first ledge, he perceived that there
were rings let into the rock, and of the same colour, which made the
operation less difficult than it had at first appeared. Three or four
ledges were thus reached in succession, and then there was a very narrow
winding path cut in the face of the cliff which led down to the very
edge of the water. Before, however, Lawrence reached the bottom, he
turned off along another ledge, when Pedro entirely lost sight of him.
Following in the same direction, however, he found himself in front of a
cave; the entrance was so small, that at a distance it could scarcely be
perceived, but on looking in he saw that it expanded into a chamber of
considerable dimensions.
"Come in, friend mariner, and survey my marine abode," exclaimed
Lawrence from within.
A few rough steps enabled him to enter, and he discovered that the cave
was not only large, but that it contained a bed and table, some stools
and several chests, and casks, and bales, besides sails and coils of
rope, and spars, and pieces of wreck; indeed, it had somewhat the
appearance of a marine store, so various were the articles collected in
it.
As he entered he was saluted by a low, fierce growl, and he saw in
rather unpleasant proximity to his legs the savage jaws of Surly Grind,
wide expanded in readiness to seize him. A word, however, from his
master, sent him growling back to his couch at the further end of the
cave.
"Never fear the dog; he is the guardian genius of the place, and is in
duty bound to defend it against the approach of animated visitors," said
Lawrence. "But sit down, worthy mariner, and feel that you are in the
abode of a friend; eatables we do not require, but I keep a store of
some of the luxuries of life of which I know you will not refuse to
partake."
Saying this, he produced some pipes and tobacco, and a bottle of
Schiedam, a case of which, he told his guest, had come on shore near his
cave. Pedro partook of the latter very moderately, but he gladly
replenished his own tobacco-pouch, as his own supply of the fragrant
weed was running short. Lawrence then led him to the mouth of the cave.
"Mark the appearance of that line of broken water out there, which with
its whirlpools and eddies comes sweeping round from the north and
strikes the base of this point. Every object which once gets within its
power is driven against this point. All these things which you see
arranged round here have reached me in that way. What tales of
shipwreck do they tell! Often, too, I fancy the waifs cast up come from
far distant shores; strange, also, the water which rushes round the base
of this rock is quite warm at times, and I could believe that it still
retains the heat imparted to it by the sun of a southern clime. But all
these things are useless to you, you will say, and so it may be; but
these are the chests, and the bales, and the casks which Surly Grind and
I, between us, have hauled on shore. That reminds me I promised to show
you the contents of one of the chests; and here--," (he opened a
remarkably massive and well-made oaken sea-chest; the lid fitted so
well, that although it had evidently been in the water for some time,
none had found an entrance; Lawrence had contrived to force it open;
lifting the lid, he took from it a tin case, and out of the case
produced a document which he put into his companion's hand). "Read
that, and tell me what you think," he said; and while Pedro opened the
paper, and slowly perused it, he fixed his eyes earnestly on his
countenance.
The Spaniard read on very slowly, and not without great difficulty.
"It is in English," he said at length. "I cannot pretend to understand
it all, but from what I do comprehend, I see that if I could fulfil my
promise to my dead shipmate and captain, and see justice done to his
widow and child, I have greater reason than ever for hurrying back to
Spain to try and counteract the schemes of Father Mendez, and to oppose
the Marquis Don Anibal Villavicencio, who will of course stir heaven and
earth to maintain his position."
"I thought as much," said Lawrence; "you see that his friend here may
have very little power to assist him in asserting his rights. Give me
back the paper. I keep all my valuables in this cavern; there is no
place so safe, for there is little chance of fire, and still less likely
are thieves to break in and steal."
Lawrence pointed to several other chests, but he seemed in no way
disposed to exhibit any more of his treasures, whatever they were. The
lieutenant, indeed, proposed returning forthwith to the castle.
Lawrence having charged Surly Grind to keep strict watch and ward over
his storehouse, they set off to return by the same way they had come.
Not long after this Pedro received the long-looked-for remittance from
Spain, and prepared for his departure from Shetland. When he went to
pay his adieus to Hilda, he dropped on one knee, and taking her hand,
respectfully pressed it to his lips, while he silently repeated his
oath, to exert himself to the utmost in the cause of her and her child.
Accompanied by Lawrence, he then set off for Lerwick, whence he
immediately embarked on board a vessel bound for London. He was much
regretted by all the inhabitants of Lunnasting, but more especially by
Hilda, who, although not aware of the extent of his devotion to her
cause, felt that she had lost one of the few friends on whom she could
depend for counsel and assistance.