almost of holy awe, filled the agitated mind of the young Highlander
with sensations which he had never before experienced, when, for the
first time in his life, he found himself beneath the groined roof and
gigantic arches of the Roman Catholic cathedral, while all its thousand
hollow echoes were replying to the notes of the sublime organ, the bold
trumpet-tones of which shook the very pavement and grave stones beneath
his feet. The appearance of the church, being so very different from
what he had ever beheld before, made also a deep impression on his mind:
the tall traceried windows, filled with gorgeously stained glass,--the
strong variations of light and shadow which they caused,--the long lines
of shafted columns, and the domed roof which sprung from their foliaged
capitals,--the perfumes of the lavender flowers which, arising from
smoking censers, filled the air,--the dark and gloomy altar-piece, with
the altar itself bearing a gigantic crucifix of gilt work and enormous
candlesticks of silver, the pale lights twinkling around it,--the
floating drapery of the officiating priests,--the sonorous prayers
uttered in an unknown language, and the fervent responses of the swarthy
congregation, together with "the pealing organ" and the melodious song
of the young choristers,--all these combined, entranced and elevated the
enthusiastic soul of the young Highlander, raising it from the grossness
and bitterness of earth almost, as it were, to heaven, so grand and
impressive, in form and ceremony, is the religious service of the Church
of Rome, as it exists on the continent in all its ancient glory.
Poor Evan, who had never heard any other religious music than the humble
Presbyterian psalm in Lochisla kirk, was for some time struck with a
feeling of such awe, that he scarcely dared to lift his eyes, lest he
should encounter the formidable gaze of some spirit or divinity standing
on the altar; and the wonderful sound of the music caused his bold heart
to shrink, although he could have heard, without his courage failing,
the roar of a thousand pieces of cannon. However, when the music
ceased, and he had recovered his usual self-possession, the native
prejudices and inherent sourness of the true Presbyterian assumed its
ascendency in his mind.
"O sir, is this no an unco kirk?" he whispered from behind. "Gude guide
us! never will I trust myself within the yett o' ane mair. Just look,
sir, at that puir papist Pedro, how he yammers, and counts his string o'
yellow beads ower and ower again. O'd, sir, this ding's a'! And look
at the pictures, the images, and a' that: it's just a temptin' o'
Providence to trust oursels inside o' this nest o' papistry, idolatry,
and deevildom. Hech me, sir, what would the auld men and caillochs in
the clachan o' Lochisla think or say if they kenned we were here? And
what would our decent body o' a minister, auld maister Mucklewhame,
think o' that chield's awfu' blatter o' lang nebbit words?"
Ronald had often motioned him to be silent, and he now ceased as the
sub-prior, a black-browed priest of the order of St. Francis of Assisi,
ascended barefooted, the marble steps which led to the lofty pulpit. He
was attired in the garb of his order, a grey gown and cowl of woollen
stuff, girt about his middle with a knotted cord of discipline. His
chaplet hung at his girdle, and his cowl, falling over his neck,
displayed his swarthy features, coal-black hair, and shaven scalp. At
the same time, Ronald encountered the smiling glances which the keen
bright eyes of the ladies bestowed on him, as they watched from time to
time the impression made upon him by the solemnity of their church
service. The sermon of the Franciscan was filled more with politics and
invectives against the French and their emperor, than religious matters,
dwelling emphatically on the singular addition made by the priests to
the Spanish Catechism at that time,--"to love all mankind, excepting
Frenchmen, of whom it was their duty to kill as many as possible."[*]
[*] See "Memoirs of the War in Spain, from 1808 to 1814; by Marshal
Suchet, Duke d'Albufera."
"Well, Evan, what think you of the discourse?" said Ronald, in the low
voice in which the groups clustered round the columns generally
conversed. "I dare say the Spanish sounds very singular to your ear."
"Ay, sir; it puts me in mind o' an auld saying o' my faither the piper.
'A soo may whussle, but its mouth is no made for't.' O'd, sir, I wadna
gie the bonnie wee kirk at Lochisla, wi' its grassy grave-yard, whar we
used to play on the sabbath mornings, for a' the kirks in Spain,
forbye--"
"Hush!" At that moment the priest had raised his voice while denouncing
a curse upon all heretics; and his keen expressive eye fell, perhaps
unconsciously, on Ronald, whose cheek reddened with momentary anger.
Evan's reply, and his native Scottish accent, caused Ronald to indulge
in the same train of ideas. He acknowledged in his own heart, that
notwithstanding the gorgeous display before him, he would prefer the
humble and earnest, the simple and unassuming service in the old village
kirk at home,--the quiet sermon of the white-haired minister, and the
slowly sung psalm, raised with all the true fervour, the holy and sober
feeling which animate a Scottish congregation, and recall the
soul-stirring emotions which inspired those who bled at Bothwell, at
Pentland, and Drumclog. He thought of Alice, too; and eagerly did he
long for the arrival of her brother Louis, that the cause of her
heartless desertion might be explained.
The cry of "_Viva la Religion y Espana! Muera Buonaparte!_" from the
preacher, echoed by the deep tone of a thousand Spanish tongues, awoke
him from his reverie, and he took prisoner within his own the white hand
of Catalina, who was playing with the silk tassels of his sash,
unconscious of what she was doing.
"Senor," said she blushing, and withdrawing it, "you seem very
melancholy."
"I have, indeed, much reason to be so. How can I appear otherwise, when
the hours we shall spend together are so few?" But she may forget me as
soon as Alice has done, thought he, and his heart swelled at the idea.
The donna made no immediate reply, and Ronald was surprised to perceive
her colour change from white to the deepest crimson, and then become
deadly pale again, while her dark eyes flashed with peculiar brilliancy
and light.
"Senor, the original of this is probably the cause of your sadness," she
said, in a tremulous voice, while she held up her rival's miniature,
which had fallen from the lapelle of Ronald's uniform, and hung at the
full extent of the chain. "She is very beautiful. If this is her
miniature, she must be a queen among women; and you love her very much,
doubtless," she added in a cold and sorrowful tone which sunk deeply
into the heart of Ronald as he hastily concealed the object of her
emotion.
"May I ask who she is, senor?"
"A very dear friend, or rather one who was such."
"She is dead, then,--or perhaps it is a portrait of a sister."
"I never had one," replied the young man colouring with confusion, while
he taxed his imagination to find a reply in vain. Happily for him he
was relieved from his dilemma by an exclamation from Donna Inesella, who
had hitherto sat silent, and had, or affected to have, been gazing
intently at the preacher.
"Holy Virgin!" she earnestly whispered. "See, Catalina, yonder is my
brother the conde, leaning against the third column from Pizarro's
monument."
"Here at church--the Conde de Truxillo here?" replied her cousin,
becoming pale and agitated.
"Would to Heaven and San Juan that Balthazzar was any where else than
here at this moment! Somewhat disagreeable will certainly come of it.
Oh, senor! I tremble for you."
"For me, Donna Inesella! Sure you mean not what you say. I have a hand
to protect myself with, and care not a straw for any conde or cavalier
in Spain."
"True, senor. I meant not to offend, but my brother Balthazzar is so
fiery----Ah! he sees us now."
Ronald looked in the direction pointed out, and saw a handsome Spanish
officer in a dashing staff-uniform, wearing massive epaulets and
aigulets of silver, and a score of military orders of knighthood, stars,
badges, ribands, medals, and crosses on his breast, leaning listlessly
against a pillar of the church, holding in one hand his cocked-hat,
which was adorned with a large plume of red and yellow feathers, while
the other rested on the hilt of a very long and straight Toledo. With a
careless sort of glance he cast his eye along the aisle, as if he had
been watching them ever since their first entrance; but on perceiving
himself observed, he came hastily towards them. A frown for a moment
crossed his fine forehead; but the next a soft smile replaced it, and he
stroked the coal-black moustache which curled on his upper lip, forming
a contrast in hue with his remarkably white teeth below.
To his sister and cousin he paid his compliments in a graceful and
polite, yet distant manner,
"Balthazzar, this is the British officer of whom I told you in my last
letter," whispered Inesella, introducing Ronald; "the same who saved
Alvaro de Villa Franca's life when----"
"I have heard all the story; so spare me a repetition of it," replied
he, waving his hand and coldly bowing to Ronald, at whose presence he
felt a displeasure which, certes, he took very little pains to conceal.
"But tell me, Balthazzar, what has brought you here so unexpectedly? and
why do you frown in so unbecoming a manner?"
"Faith, Inesella! you are exceedingly impolite; but to be angry with you
is useless. I am carrying despatches from my colonel, the Conde Penne
Villamur, to Don Carlos d'Espana, and I must leave Merida in a few
hours, or less. But how is it that my fair cousin Catalina has not one
smile of welcome to bestow on me, though six months have elapsed since I
was last at Merida?"
"Indeed, Balthazzar, I am most happy to see you; but _el senor padre_
would little like my laughing in church, you know."
"_El senor padre?_ pho! But where is that most prudent of brothers Don
Alvaro now? I heard that he had run his captain through the body, and
so got command of his troop."
"'Twas a base falsehood circulated by old Don Salvador, whose guerillas
were supposed to have done the deed; but Alvaro has joined the Spanish
army under Murillo, cousin conde."
"He is a thoughtless brother, truly," replied the conde, glancing at
Ronald, "to go off thus, leaving you under the care of my uncle the
prior, who is nearly as useless now as a piece of spiked ordnance. A
young lady without guidance----But you look as if about to speak,
senor."
"Don Salvador de Zagala," observed Ronald, whom the conde had never
addressed until now, "is also with Murillo; and there may be some
dangerous brawl between Alvaro and him, should they meet."
"_O Dios mio_! Santa Maria forbid," exclaimed the young ladies
together.
"It would be more prudent in Alvaro, senor, to allow the guerilla chief
to go in peace, and without molestation. He suffered the wrong, and was
in the right to resent it. My cousin Alvaro, although an accomplished
soldier, is no match for old Salvador, who in the use of the sword and
pistol has scarcely his equal in Spain; besides, Murillo is a fine old
fellow, and he takes most summary vengeance upon any noble cavalier who
seeks the free privilege of the duello in the camp. I presume, senor,
you are at Merida on some duty? I believe you will find it very
agreeable,--much more so than hard fighting and long marches."
"No, conde; I have been here for the recovery of a wound, received from
a Spanish hand in a manner at once base and dishonourable," replied
Ronald, his brows contracting at the sarcastic tone used by the Spanish
officer; "a wound in the arm which is barely healed, and it is scarcely
an hour since I relinquished the scarf in which it hung."
"Then, senor, I think that the sooner you rejoin your brave regiment,
the better for your fair fame. A gallant soldado who values his honour,
would scarcely permit a scratch to detain him from the field."
"A scratch! How now, conde! what am I to understand by this
premeditated rudeness?" said Ronald furiously and aloud, his cheek
flushing, and his eye sparkling with anger. "What mean you, senor?"
"Merely what I have said, _senor officiale_," replied Don Balthazzar in
the same provoking tone of sarcastic coldness, "But be pleased to
moderate your transports for another and more fitting time. It would
ill become a noble cavalier, like me, to brawl at church or in the
presence of ladies. But you shall hear from me again, senor;" and
bestowing a vindictive glance at Ronald, and a cold bow on his cousin
and sister, he pressed through the crowd, and left the church.
"Holy Virgin! Inesella, O Dios! I dreaded that this would come to pass
the moment I saw Balthazzar here," whispered Catalina in great
agitation. "He is so fierce and untractable, that he never visits
Merida without fighting a duel with some one. But you, _senor mio_,
surely you will not lay to heart what he has said to you?"
"Calm yourself, Catalina. I know not what to think; but certainly his
behaviour to me is very unaccountable. Have no apprehension on my
account; as I said before, I care not for any cavalier in Spain, and
Heaven knows there are plenty of them."
"Pho! Catalina," said her thoughtless cousin; "heed not Balthazzar's
angry looks, though, indeed, he can be fierce enough when he pleases. He
will probably depart immediately with his despatches: he said he had but
a short time to tarry."
"Pray Heaven that may be so!"
"And then Don Ronald and he will perhaps never meet again."
"Let us leave the church. O Inesella! how my heart flutters."
"Indeed, my sweet cousin, your eyes have been the cause of more than one
duel already, as the notches on Balthazzar's sword can testify; and you
have great reason to feel sorrow and disquiet."
"I hear the hoofs of a horse; 'tis galloping through the Plaza."
"It must be his, Catalina: thanks to our Lady of the Rock, he is gone!
They may meet no more."
The ladies were, however, both mistaken. Scarcely had Ronald escorted
them home, before Evan placed in his hand a note, addressed to "El Noble
Caballero, Don Ronaldo Stuart, 92nd Regimiento, Calle de Guadiana."
In spite of the many vexations which annoyed him, Ronald well nigh
laughed on seeing this strange and imperfect address. "This is some
trick of Alister's," thought he, as he tore open the billet, the
contents of which undeceived him.
"SENOR,
"When the clock of the Casa del Ayuntamiento strikes the hour of two, I
shall be awaiting you in the thicket behind the ruins of the castle of
Merida. You will not fail to come well armed. BALTHAZZAR DE TRUXILLO."
Anger and surprise were Ronald's first emotions on perusing this
unlooked-for challenge, which he considered an additional aggression;
and having already been grossly insulted, he deeply regretted that he
had not "stolen a march" on the conde, by sending him the hostile
message first.
"The devil!" muttered he; "this will be a pretty winding-up of matters,
to be shot by this vindictive Spaniard! But, every thing considered, my
life is scarcely worth having: certes, a challenge could not have come
at a better time, when my heart is filled with misanthropy, gall, and
bitterness, and my feelings deadened by the news I have received within
these twenty-four hours. Perhaps Alice may weep when she reads of my
death in the 'Gazette,'--so and so to be ensign, _vice_ Stuart,
deceased. Sorrow or death--come what may, my heart is strung for it
all." A sour smile crossed his features, and he glanced at the clock of
the corporation-house: it wanted but a quarter of two.
"I shall be late," said he, buckling on his sword. "What shall I do in
this cursed dilemma? I have neither a friend to accompany me, nor
pistols to use; and the conde may object to so formidable a weapon as
the broad-sword. Would to God Macdonald, Chisholm, or any of ours, were
here! Evan," said he, turning to his servant, who had watched his
excitement, and heard his half-muttered speeches with considerable
concern and surprise. "Evan!"
"O'd, sir, ye needna speak sae loud: I'm just behint ye. What's yer
wull, sir?"
"I have received a challenge to fight that Spanish officer you saw at
church, and you must accompany me as second. It will be prudent to come
armed, as some of these Spaniards are treacherous hounds, and the conde
may be no better than his neighbours. Get your musquet and
accoutrements, and follow me to the ruinous castle at the end of the
town; but do not alarm the young ladies, who I see are walking in the
garden below."
"A duel! to fecht a duel? Gude guide us, sir, that's unco sudden,"
replied Evan, turning pale with concern. "And are ye really gaun?"
"Going, Iverach! can you ask me such a question?"
"And your sair arm scarcely weel yet!--it will never do. O'd, sir, let
me gang in your place, and my name's no Evan Iverach if I dinna gie that
saucy-looking chield his kail through the reek."
"Obey me instantly,--the time is nearly up; follow me at once, without
further trifling. I should regret to speak harshly, Iverach, as this,
perhaps, is the last day we may ever spend together. I have a great
regard for you, Evan; we have been friends since we were little
children, and I always forget the distance which birth and the rules of
the service place between us in consequence."
"O sir! O'd, sir--"
"Should I fall," said Ronald, speaking in a rapid though faltering tone;
"should I fall, you will find some papers and other matters in my
baggage, which I wish transmitted home to Lochisla; and these I desire
you will deliver either to Major Campbell or Mr. Macdonald."
"Sir, sir--O Maister Ronald! my very heart is bursting to hear ye rin on
in that gait," replied Evan, beginning to shed tears, which he strove in
vain to conceal. "I would--I would wi' pleasure gang in your place,
face this chield mysel, and gie him what he deserves. Dinna think the
waur o' me, sir, because I greet like a bairn. I would face hand to
hand ony mortal man without quailing; but my spirit flees clean awa',
when danger draws nigh you."
"Stay, Evan, my dear old play-fellow; hold, for Heaven's sake! You will
quite unman me. I am indeed deeply sensible of the regard you bear me,
and have not forgotten the kind act you performed in our wretched
bivouac at La Nava. But dry your tears: your fathers did not weep when
they followed mine to battle."
"Ye are richt, sir," replied Evan, recovering his self-possession as his
pride was roused; "but my faither wadna be ashamed to yammer himsel, if
he kenned that danger was nigh you. May be at this hour they ken it at
Lochisla: auld Janet sees things farther off than ither folk. Ye'll no
forget she has the gift o' the second-sicht."
"Listen! If any thing should happen to me, you will find attached to
this chain a miniature of Miss Lisle,--Miss Lisle of Inchavon,"
continued his master in a tremulous voice. "Tell Mr. Macdonald it is my
particular desire that it be restored to her, or her brother Louis, who
will shortly be with the regiment. I trust in Heaven you will see this
done. And for my father--my poor father! you will find in my largest
trunk----But I will tell you the rest by the way: it is useless
addressing you while you are in this agitated state. Keep up your
heart, Evan, like a man and a Highlander!"
"Sir, if ye should fa'," replied Evan, in a tone of assumed firmness,
"a' that ye tell me most religiously will I obey,--ay, obey as I would
the commands o' a voice frae Heaven itself,--that is, if I can survive
you, which I dinna think possible. O hoo could I ever face the puir auld
laird at hame, and tell o' what had come ower ye in this unco place?"
The honest fellow pressed his master's hands between his own, while he
endeavoured to subdue his sorrow and dread.
"But for what do I greet, sir?" said he, placing his regimental bonnet
jauntily on one side of his head. "A Scotchman is as gude as a
Spaniard, and better, may be. Ye were aye a deadly shot on the muirs,
and may settle this chield, as ye have dune mony a bonnie fallow-deer,
by an ounce o' lead in the wame."
At that moment the bell of the Casa del Ayuntamiento tolled the hour of
two.
"Time is up, by heavens!" exclaimed Ronald passionately; "and this
cursed count has obtained a triumph over me: he will be first on the
ground!" He cast a hasty glance at the graceful figure of Catalina, as
she leant on the margin of the fountain conversing with Donna Inesella.
Evan hastily examined the lock of his musquet, and they sallied forth in
silence.
*CHAPTER XIII.*
*THE DUEL.*
"It has a strange, quick jar upon the ear,
That cocking of a pistol, when you know
A moment more will bring the sight to bear
Upon your person,--twelve yards off, or so;
A gentlemanly distance, not too near,
If you have got a former friend for foe.
But after being fired at once or twice,
The ear becomes more Irish, and less nice."
_Don Juan_, canto iv.
Passing rapidly through the Plaza, and down the great street which leads
towards the Guadiana, they ascended the eminence on the outside of the
city, where the remains of the mouldering fortress stand. It was a
solitary spot, surrounded by thickets of bushes and tall weeping
willows. There was little chance of an interruption in such a place,
especially at an hour when the streets were almost deserted, while the
lazy Spaniards were enjoying their siesta. Within one of the square
courts, round which rose the mossy fragments of shattered towers, they
found the Conde de Truxillo holding his charger by the bridle, and
conversing with the Spanish doctor, Mendizabal, whose case of
instruments was displayed on a large mass of fallen masonry near.
The conde seemed to be impatiently awaiting Ronald's appearance.
"Senor!" said he haughtily, "you have been in no hurry to attend my
summons. I believe I mentioned in the church of San Juan that I was
hastening with despatches to Don Carlos d'Espana, and consequently had
no time to lose in Merida."
"I am but a few minutes beyond the appointed time, conde; and you must
be aware that the notice I received was very sudden."
"As sudden as unwelcome, perhaps."
"Senor! your observations are contemptible, and your blood alone can
wipe out your repeated insolence," was Ronald's fierce reply. "Conde,
your life only can atone for such conduct; and by the heavens above, we
part not this day until the sword is dyed with the blood of one or both
of us."
"This is mighty gay! Your language promises bold deeds, senor," replied
the other ironically.
"For what have I received this hostile message from you, conde? from
you, whom I have never wronged?"
"When I acquaint you, senor," replied the Spaniard, his olive cheek
glowing for an instant; "when I acquaint you that Catalina de Villa
Franca is my betrothed wife, I have, perhaps, sufficiently answered that
question."
"Donna Catalina is no more to me than any other lady in Spain," said
Ronald, colouring in turn, for he knew the assertion to be false.
"Enough!" replied the conde fiercely. "I did not come here to chatter,
senor,--my time is too short for that. You have brought pistols, of
course?"
"I have no weapon but my sword; and I am perfect master of it."
"We will prove that in good time. I, however, am better provided." He
took from his holsters a very handsome pair of long horse-pistols.
"Choose one, senor; and here are ball-cartridges enough to last us till
sunset, which you are scarcely like to see, if my hand is as steady as
it usually is."
Ronald replied only by a scornful smile, and they proceeded each to
load.
"Now, then," said Truxillo, "we are all ready, I suppose. I will retire
to the ruinous wall, and you will please to stand where you are. 'Tis a
very convenient distance. But what mean you by bringing an armed
soldier with you here?" he exclaimed, his attention being attracted to
Evan by the latter, in the excitement of the moment, loosening his
bayonet in the sheath.
"He is a private soldier of my own regiment. I had no other friend in
Merida to accompany me."
"Friend? A brave soldier requires none to assist him in defence of his
honour. You must know, senor, that a Spanish cavalier, in an affair of
this sort, seeks no other ally than a sharp blade and sure eye: however,
desire your fellow to retire, that there may be no treachery. We draw
lots for the first shot, I presume?"
"Agreed, conde," answered Ronald, whose Highland blood was all on fire,
and whose anger had been gradually increasing at the cavalier's insolent
demeanour and assumed tone of superiority, until he longed with a fierce
eagerness to chastise him by the infliction of some severe bodily
injury,--if not totally to deprive him of life. Lots were drawn by
Doctor Mendizabal, and the _first_ shot fell to the conde. An
expression of triumphant malice glittered in his large dark eyes; he
smiled sourly, showing his white teeth, and retreated close to the
ruinous wall, where he planted himself about sixteen paces off, and
examined with the most scrupulous accuracy the flint, priming, and
muzzle of his pistol.
With the other in his right hand, Ronald stood erect, awaiting the
conde's fire.