THE EARTHQUAKE.
Alcala, in his noisome prison, might well have envied Lucius his couch
on the earth, and the pure fresh breezes which fanned the slumberer's
brow. Whenever the prisoner awoke, it was with a sensation of stifling
suffocation, which made him doubt how long his physical powers could
hold out.
"Perhaps," thought Alcala, "a messenger more speedy than Spanish
justice may one day come to release me. In the meantime _let patience
have its perfect work_, my heavenly Father will bring a blessing out
of all;" and, composed by such reflections, the cavalier would sink
into slumber again. It was well that Alcala was able thus to snatch
some hours of sleep, for the coming day was to be one of the most
eventful and exciting ones of his life.
It has been said, "Happy is the nation that has no history;" the words
express wisdom condensed into wit; we read its truth in its converse.
In England, during late years, the progress of political events has
produced none of those sudden, violent convulsions which shake society
to its centre; the movement has rather resembled that of the earth in
its orbit, so quiet and regular that the bulk of the people scarcely
know that motion goes on. But in unhappy Spain, instead of calm
progress, there has ever and anon come a violent shock, as of an
earthquake, overturning loftiest houses, throwing down highest
pinnacles into the dust; an upheaving of the earth which, while it
destroys much that is evil, endangers much that is good. We can only
look for settled peace and prosperity in Spain to days when the Bible
shall guide the counsels of her Senate, and control the passions of
her people.
Not many hours had passed since the light of morning, forcing its way
through gratings into the prison of Seville, had aroused its inmates
to commence, as they thought, the dreary monotony of another day, when
even the dungeon's depths were stirred by a consciousness that
exciting scenes were passing outside the walls. A look of expectation
was on every face, every ear was bent to listen.
"Hark to the distant roar! One might deem that we were near the sea!"
cried one of the smugglers.
"It's a sea, I warrant ye, that will send many a proud galley to the
bottom ere the sun go down," observed a thief, whom his previous
conversation had shown to be also a keen politician.
"It's a sea that won't be stilled by Claret's sprinkling drops of holy
oil upon it!" said a gipsy; and what a devout Romanist must have
deemed a profane jest, was received with a burst of laughter.
"Let the sea rage as it will," observed Diego the chulo to Aguilera,
"so that it bear back to old Spain the noblest man that ever drew
breath in her air. I'll drink the health of Prim yet in a bumper of
wine, and down with--"
The chulo had not time to conclude his sentence, when the louder,
nearer noise of _vivas_ from a thousand voices showed that the massive
prison door no longer dulled outer sounds, or obstructed the free
passage of the mob into the building. In surged the rushing human
torrent; in one minute the corridor was, as their voices showed,
filled by an excited rabble; the next minute the dividing door was
burst open! The mob rushed into the dungeon, its walls resounded with
loud _vivas_, re-echoed by most of the prisoners thus suddenly
released from confinement, and let loose to swell the numbers of the
wild crowd. The noise and confusion which prevailed were so great that
it was difficult at the first instant to gain a clear idea of what
had occurred; but it was soon as well known in the prison as it was
already through every corner of Seville, that great and exciting news
had arrived from Madrid during the course of the night. The reins of
power had suddenly been wrenched from the hand of Queen Isabella; the
sovereign of Spain had fled the kingdom; her minions had barely
escaped with their lives; the fabric of government was overthrown, and
no one could tell what would replace it. Like the criminals from the
dungeon, all the fiercer passions of men were let loose, and who would
have power to rule them?
If the prison of Seville had been suddenly filled almost to
suffocation, it was nearly as suddenly emptied. There was nothing in
it to tempt cupidity, nothing to retain the excited mob; and those who
had been inmates of the gloomy abode were the most eager of the throng
to rush forth into the free air. Robbers and murderers remembered that
there might be palaces to plunder, and enemies to pursue. Aguilera
found himself almost alone in the dungeon where, but a few minutes
before, he had hardly had space wherein to breathe. Diego only
remained by him still.
"Shall we follow the rest, senor?" asked the chulo. "There's not a
jailer dare draw a bolt on us now. Methinks your prayer last night,
like that of St. Paul, has been answered by an earthquake."
"I will return to my house, if I have strength to reach it," replied
Alcala, making an effort to walk to the door. The cavalier was very
desirous that at a time when anarchy and confusion prevailed
throughout Seville, he should be in his home to protect the ladies of
his family.
"You will scarcely reach the Calle de San Jose on foot, illustrious
caballero," observed the chulo. "If it please you to wait in the
corridor for awhile, it will go hard with me if I cannot find a mule,
or some kind of conveyance, to bear you back to your home."
"I am greatly indebted to you, my friend," gratefully answered Alcala,
who felt that without such aid as that proffered by Diego, it would be
hardly possible for him to return to his dwelling.
"The debt is on my side, senor," said the chulo, looking steadily into
the pallid face of the young cavalier. "You gave me such a message
last night as was never brought to me by shaven monk or friar,--a
message that Diego will never forget. Lean on my arm, senor; there's
fresher air and a seat near the entrance. Hark! how the people are
shouting and yelling now in the streets! They are as mad in their
rush after freedom as the bull when the toril is opened, and he bursts
into the circus, ready to tear down everything that stands in his way!
It is to be hoped," added the chulo, uttering the words under his
breath, "that this wild, excited people meet not the same fate as the
bull!"