LORD CLAYMORE ON SHORE--MORTON AGAIN MEETS EDDA--RONALD'S NEW FRIEND,
DON JOSEF.
The frigate continued her cruise further to the south; she touched at
several places, and Lord Claymore or Morton went constantly on shore to
urge the Spanish authorities and the people to take up arms, and to
assist in organising their forces. From the information the captain
received, he considered it important to communicate with some
influential people a short way in the interior. He gave his
instructions to Morton, therefore, and directed him to take two men as a
body-guard, and to set off at once. Ronald selected Truefitt and Doull,
the first for his steadiness and the other for his cool courage, and
having procured a guide and a horse, and two wretched mules which had
been too decrepit for the enemy to carry off, proceeded on his mission.
Ronald and his guide rode on ahead, the two seamen following. Neither
of them were better horsemen than are sailors in general, but they were
at all events able to stick on, in spite of the kicks and stumbles and
flounders their animals occasionally gave; each was armed with a good
thick stick, besides a cutlass by his side and a brace of pistols in his
belt. "This is a pleasanter sort of a cruise, mate, to my notion, than
we've had the chance of for many a day," observed Doull.
"Keep up on your four legs, you brute, now. The people here, though,
seems to me to be an outlandish set; did you ever hear such a rum way of
speaking as they've got? they all seem to have got lumps of biscuit or
duff, or something of that sort, down their throats."
"That's the way they have. Different people speak a different lingo,
just as different animals make different noises," answered Job,
sententiously. "I can't say as how I likes these Dons; they've too
stuck up and stand clear a manner about them to please me."
"That's my notion, too, Job," said Bob. "I like the Mounseers a
precious sight better; when one is friends with them, they take to our
ways a hundred-fold better than these Dons. They'll talk and laugh
away, and drink too, with a fellow, just for all the world as if they
were as regular born Christians as we are. That's what a Don will never
do; he won't drink with you, he won't talk to you, he won't laugh or
dance, and what's more, he won't fight with you; and that's what the
Mounseers never refuses to do, and that's why I likes them."
Morton enjoyed the change very much, from his usual life on board ship;
he had not the same objection to the Spaniards as had his followers, and
as he had now sufficiently mastered their language to converse with
ease, he was never at a loss for amusement, and was able to obtain all
the information he required about the country. Three days were consumed
in reaching his destination; the French, he found, had lately been in
that part of the country, but had retired northward. The people were
anxious to drive the French out of their country, but they wanted arms,
and money, and leaders.
Ronald was treated with great courtesy wherever he appeared, and he felt
himself a much more important personage than he had ever before been.
He had concluded the work on which he had been sent, and was about to
return to his ship, when one of the Spanish officials informed him that
he had received notification of the approach of a British commissioner,
a military officer, to assist them in organising their forces.
"He must be a great man, an important person," observed the Spaniard;
"for he travels with many attendants, and his wife and family. No
Spanish ladies would dream of travelling about the country at a time
like this."
Morton considered that it would be his duty to communicate with the
commissioner, and hearing that he was only a day's journey off, he set
out to meet him. The village at which he arrived in the afternoon, like
most in Spain, consisted of neat, low, white-washed houses, with bright,
red-tiled roofs, most of them having massive wooden verandahs and
trellis-work in front, forming arbours, over which vines in rich
profusion were taught to trail. The interior, at all events, had a neat
and clean appearance, but several blackened ruins, loop-holed walls, the
upper part of which were thickly bespattered with bullet-marks, showed
that it had been lately the scene of, perhaps, a brief but desperate
encounter between the hostile forces. The inn where the British
commissioner was said to be was pointed out to him. It was a long low
building like the rest in the place; the ground floor being divided into
two compartments, one serving as a kitchen and common eating-room, the
other as a stable and sleeping-place for the muleteers; the upper part
consisted of one large room, with dormitories roughly partitioned off
round it. An English cavalry soldier was doing duty as sentry at the
door. He informed Morton that the colonel had gone out with some of the
authorities in the neighbourhood, but that the ladies were upstairs.
While Ronald was doubting what he should do, another man appeared and
begged that he would walk up and remain till the colonel returned.
Handing the bridle to his attendants with directions to them to wait for
him, he threw himself off his horse, and followed the servant through
the dark smoky kitchen to the stairs leading to the upper floor. His
heart beat more quickly than usual, for he had a hope, though a faint
one, that he was about once more to meet Edda Armytage, yet again he
thought it very improbable that Colonel Armytage would bring her and her
mother, accustomed as they had been to all the luxuries of life, into a
part of the country in which travelling was so inconvenient and
dangerous. Still they were in Spain. Of that Mrs Edmonstone had
assured Glover. He sprang up the steps. The door was opened. He
walked in with more than usual precipitation. At one end of the room
were several persons with cloaks over their shoulders, and, hat in hand,
sitting silent and solemn, evidently waiting the return of the
commissioner. At the further end, in the deep window recess, sat two
ladies. The back of one was turned towards him. The other was looking
down at a piece of work on which she was engaged. Though jaded and
looking very sad, her countenance was, he was certain, that of Mrs
Armytage. His quick step roused both the ladies. They turned round.
In an instant Edda's hand was placed in his. The rich blood mantled in
her cheeks, her eyes sparkled with pleasure. She forgot everything but
the happiness of again meeting him. Mrs Armytage received him most
cordially. The Spaniards looked on at what was taking place, and
twirled their moustachios. They thought the young stranger officer a
very happy fellow. After the first greetings were over, and Ronald had
explained how he came to be at the place, Mrs Armytage told him that
Colonel Armytage had met with considerable pecuniary losses, and that
when he received the appointment he now held, he wished her to accompany
him, and that Edda had insisted on not being left behind.
"We knew that there were inconveniences to be encountered, though we did
not suppose that there were any dangers to be feared to which we would
not gladly submit for the sake of accompanying Colonel Armytage, who so
much requires our care," observed Mrs Armytage. "The inconveniences
are more ridiculous than disagreeable, and I fully believe Edda enjoys
them; and as to dangers, we have found none hitherto, and rather look
for them to add zest to the interest of the journey."
Mrs Armytage went on speaking in this strain for some time, when she
became very grave. Ronald suspected that, although she might not have
been unwilling to come, it was not only her husband's state of health
which had induced her to accompany him. He knew how selfish and
tyrannical Colonel Armytage always was, and he suspected that he had not
given his wife the choice of remaining behind. Edda, as she watched her
mother's countenance, grew silent, and a shade of melancholy also stole
over her features. Mrs Armytage at last spoke.
"We are truly glad to see you again, Mr Morton, and you know how high
you stand in both Edda's estimation and mine. Nothing you have ever
done has forfeited our regard, but I dread that when Colonel Armytage
returns he will not treat you in the way that we would desire. You know
that he is irritable, and that when he has taken up a prejudice it is
difficult to eradicate it. He has not got over the objections which he
formerly expressed to you. Earnestly do I wish that he would. But you
are generous and noble-minded; you will not think unkindly of us because
one we are bound to obey treats you unjustly. I know that I describe my
daughter's feelings, and I speak thus because I feel that it is due to
you to say it."
While her mother was speaking, Edda looked up imploringly at Ronald. He
could not help perceiving that her countenance wore an expression of
tenderness and love towards him, and it was a sore trial for him to
promise compliance with the unjust demands which her father might make
on him. Mrs Armytage had spoken as she felt she was bound to do. In
her heart she rebelled against her husband's commands. Edda was old
enough both to judge and act for herself, she considered. She had
perfect confidence in her sense and discretion. Scarcely conscious of
what she was doing, she rose from her seat and went to her room, leaving
her daughter and Ronald together. The window recess was very deep; Edda
had retired into it, and was thus concealed from the view of the people
at the other end of the room. Ronald stood with his back towards them.
"Edda, I have never ceased to think of you, to ground all my
expectations of earthly happiness on the hopes of making you mine," he
exclaimed in a low deep voice. "You require no assurances of my love
and my constancy; then promise me that you will not consent to become
another's whatever may occur. I dare not ask you to disobey your
father, and marry me against his will; but for your own sake, for mine,
I do entreat you not to yield to his authority so far as to marry one
you cannot love. I have hopes, great hopes that his objections to me
may be removed; but till they are so, I dread lest he should compel you
to give your hand to some one else. The promise I ask will give you
strength to resist any unjust exercise of authority. No one holds in
more respect than I do the duty of the obedience of a child to a parent;
but in this case it would, I am certain, work woe to you, sorrow to your
mother, and ultimate regret to your father. You will be firm, Edda?
Promise me."
"Indeed, indeed I will," answered Miss Armytage. "Most faithfully and
unreservedly I promise you that."
At that moment there was a commotion among the people at the other end
of the room, and a scraping of their feet on the floor as they rose from
their seats. They simultaneously began to bow with a formal air; the
noise they had created made Ronald turn his head, and as he did so, he
saw an officer in full uniform entering the room, followed by a number
of persons in various costumes. A second glance told Ronald that
Colonel Armytage was before him.
Ronald at once advanced to meet him, and said, "I am an officer of his
Majesty's ship `Imperious.' I was sent by my captain to communicate
with the people in this district, and hearing that you were in the
neighbourhood, I considered it my duty to inform you of what I have
done."
"In that light I am perfectly ready to receive you sir," said the
colonel, with a stiff bow. "But you will have the goodness to proceed
at once with your narrative: you see that there are a number of people
waiting to transact business with me, and that my time is short."
Ronald felt a disagreeable sensation at his heart as the colonel was
speaking, but he overcame his feelings, and at once entered on the
business which had brought him to the place.
The manner of Colonel Armytage was stiff and ungracious in the extreme.
Ronald had done everything so well, and gave so clear an account of all
the arrangements he had made, that the colonel could not do otherwise
than express himself satisfied. At length he rose, and said in a formal
way, "I think now, sir, our business is ended. You will, I conclude, at
once return to your ship, and express to Lord Claymore my satisfaction
at the arrangements which have been made. His lordship will, however,
see the necessity of leaving to me the task which he has hitherto
performed so efficiently."
Edda had not dared to stir from her seat, but had continued with her
head bent down over some work, only venturing at times to cast a furtive
glance at her father and Ronald, to ascertain how they got on together.
Mrs Armytage soon afterwards joined her, and continued equally silent,
her countenance exhibiting still greater anxiety and nervousness.
The colonel ceased speaking, and looked as if he expected the young
officer to make his bow and walk straight out at the door, but Ronald
felt that he must risk everything rather than take his departure without
exchanging another word with Edda. He therefore, as soon as he rose,
observing that Colonel Armytage had beckoned to one of the Spaniards to
advance, said quietly, "I will pay my respects to Mrs and Miss Armytage
before I go."
Before the colonel could reply he had crossed the room to them.
"Mrs Armytage, whatever happens, I entreat you to think favourably of
me," he said; and then he took Edda's hand, willingly given him, and he
whispered, "Farewell, dearest; we shall meet, I trust, ere long, again,
when I have hopes that some of the difficulties which now surround us
may be surmounted. Your promise, though we were interrupted before the
whole was given, has afforded joy and contentment to my heart."
"Oh, but I give it entirely," Edda exclaimed, eagerly. "No power shall
make me break it, believe me Ronald."
"You will be benighted, sir, and brigandage is rife," exclaimed Colonel
Armytage, looking up with an angry glance, which Edda observed, but
Ronald did not.
"Go, go!" she exclaimed. "Heaven protect you?"
Morton shook hands with Mrs Armytage, bowed to the colonel, and walked
with as much dignity as he could command out of the room.
He threw himself on his horse, and rather than remain in the place he
determined to ride back to a village he had passed on his way there,
where he might find refreshment and rest both for man and beast during
the night.
As Ronald passed the group of Spaniards, he saw one of those who had
come in with Colonel Armytage stare very hard at him. It struck him at
the moment that he recollected the man's features. He had just mounted
his horse, when the person in question rushed down the steps, and
grasped him by the hand.
"I am ashamed, my brave friend, that I should not at once have known
you!" exclaimed the Spaniard. "But we both of us look to much greater
advantage than we did on the day we stormed the fort, when we were
covered with gunpowder and blood. But you must not go; come to my
house, it is not many leagues off. You can be spared from your ship for
a day or two longer."
Ronald thanked his friend Don Josef very warmly, but assured him that it
was his duty to make the best of his way to the coast, as the ship would
be standing in to take him.
"How unfortunate!" said the Spaniard. "I have to see your
commissioner--he seems a very great man--or I would accompany you all
the way, and we might stop at the houses of some of my friends. Still I
must go a little way with you. Wait a moment; I will send for my horse:
it is a poor animal--the only one those thieving French have left me.
But a day of retribution is coming, and soon, I hope."
The steed was brought out; it was a far better animal than Ronald
expected to see. The Spaniard mounted, and the cavalcade moved on.
The village was soon left behind. Ronald's new friend, however, had not
accompanied him more than a league when he said he must return, or he
should miss his interview altogether with the commissioner. He had
given Morton during that time a great deal of information as to the
state of the country, and the temper of the people generally. One
feeling seemed to pervade all classes--the deepest hatred of their late
master, and a desire to be free.
"Better times may arrive, the country may be restored to peace,
prosperity may be her lot, and then I trust that you will come and visit
me at my home, and receive the thanks of my wife and children for the
benefit you conferred on me."
Saying this with the usual complimentary Spanish expressions, Don Josef
turned his horse's head, and rode back towards the village from which
they had started, while Ronald continued his journey.