he endured the most horrible torments without uttering a word to
criminate himself. By the king's order he was set free, and died at a
great age, a poor priest like myself. In his dying hour, when a brother
held the crucifix before his glazing eyes, he desired him to remove it,
saying the image of our Saviour was so clumsily done, that the sight of
it pained him; as the proverb says, senor, _De paja_--"
But Ronald did not permit him to finish the adage, requesting him to
retire in a manner that was not to be disputed. Early next morning he
was despatched to Idanha-a-Velha, bearing the letter for Donna Inesella.
He resolutely refused to take a single maravedi to defray his expenses,
although the journey was a very long one. So simple were his habits of
living, learned while a shepherd among the mountains, that he could
easily subsist on charity and what he could pick up by the way-side,
where ripe oranges, luscious grapes, and juicy pumpkins grew wild, or by
chanting songs to the sound of the rebeck,--a primitive kind of guitar,
having only three strings.
"I am accustomed to a wandering life, senor," said he, as he bade Ronald
adieu; "it suits and squares with me perfectly,--_Quadrado y esquinado_,
as the proverb has it. Frail and withered as I appear, I can well bear
fatigue, and am as tough as an old toledo, and will undertake to reach
Idanha-a-Velha almost as soon as if mounted on the best mule that ever
bore the sign of the cross on its back."
To keep his promise, pledged to Catalina, Ronald paid into the treasury
of the convent two golden onzas, to obtain masses for her departed
spirit. Let it not be imagined for a moment that he believed in their
efficacy; but he remembered that it was Catalina's wish--indeed almost
her last request, that such should be done, and he paid the onzas rather
as a duty of affection than religion. This act left him in indifferent
pecuniary circumstances, as it carried off the whole month's subsistence
which he had received from the regimental paymaster, after the storm of
Almarez. Pay was a scarce matter with the Peninsular troops, who, at
the time the battle of Vittoria was fought, had not received a single
farthing for upwards of six months.
An apartment opening off the _parlatorio_ had been fitted up for Ronald,
by the orders of the lady abbess, and perhaps this was the only occasion
ever known of a man sleeping under the roof of the Convent of the Holy
Cross,--an event which, had it happened during the days of the terrible
Inquisition, would probably have been the means of dooming the abbess to
death, and her nuns to some severe penance.
It was a gloomy little chamber, with a grated window, through which came
the rays of the moon, and the rich fragrance of flowers from the garden.
A gaudily painted Spanish bedstead, without curtains, stood in one
corner, and a solitary chair resting in another constituted its
furniture, unless I include a large wooden crucifix reared against the
wall, and a skull, ghastly and grinning, placed near it on a bracket.
Ronald scarcely slept during all that night. His mind was alternately a
prey to the deepest sorrow and wildest longings for vengeance, that the
human heart is capable of feeling. Many were the plans which his
fertile imagination suggested for the discovery of the matador; but
owing to the totally disorganized state of the country, the subversion
of its laws, and the weakness of its civil authorities, he was aware
that his attempts would be alike fruitless and unavailing, and that the
cavalier, Don Alvaro, from the rank of his family, his known bravery,
and favour among the populace, would be more likely to have him brought
to justice.
At times, when the outrage which Catalina had suffered came vividly into
his imagination, his blood boiled within him, and his heart panted with
a tiger-like feeling for revenge--deep, deadly, and ample revenge; and
nothing short of the blood of Cifuentes, shed with his own sword, could
satisfy the cravings he felt for retribution. The next moment he was
all-subdued in grief and tenderness, when he remembered the happy days
he had spent with Catalina at Merida, the soft expression of her eyes,
the sweet tones of her voice, their rambles among the ruins and rich
scenery of the city, its sunny streets and shady public walks, where she
was the leading belle, and the glory, delight, and admiration of the
cloaked and moustached cavaliers, and the envy of the veiled and stately
donnas who frequented the green Prado in the evening, or promenaded
under the cool arches of the _paseo_ during the hottest part of the day.
While the recollections of these departed moments of transitory
enjoyment passed in quick succession through his mind, Alice Lisle was
not forgotten; but the remembrance of her only added to the tortures of
that mental rack, on which Stuart appeared to be stretched.
Thoughts of the days that were gone--days spent in perfect happiness
with her,--thoughts that he strove in vain to repel, arose at times,
causing his divided heart to swell within his bosom till its cords
seemed about to snap. Love struggled strongly with love in his breast.
He unclasped the miniature of Alice, and gazed upon it by the light of
the moon. He had not looked upon it for many, many months, and his eyes
filled with tears while he did so now, and recalled the joyous
expression of her hazel eye and merry ringing of her girlish laugh; but
when he thought of Lord Hyndford, the newspaper paragraph, and the cold
conduct of her brother, he closed it with vehemence, and looked upon it
no more that night. Even a long wished-for slumber, when it came at
last, was disturbed by dreams no less painful than his waking thoughts.
He imagined that he was in the splendid chapel of Santa Cruz, and that
Catalina stood beside him in all her dignity and beauty, arrayed as he
had seen her last in a profusion of white lace and muslin. She yet
lived! The idea of her death was but a horrible dream. O what ecstacy
was in that thought! No black tomb was yawning in the chancel, but the
aisles were crowded by a gay party, whose forms appeared wavering,
indistinct, and indescribable. But Ronald recked not of them; Catalina
was there, with her eyes sparkling, her cheek blushing, and her tresses
flowing as of old, and orange-buds were entwined with the white roses of
her coronal. He embraced her,--but, lo! a change came over the features
of the Spanish maiden, and they became the softer, but equally beautiful
features of Alice Lisle! A low and heavenly melody stole upon his
ears,--he started, and awoke.
The music he had heard in his sleep was filling every part of the
convent, announcing that morning matins had begun. Stuart sprang from
the couch, troubled with his visions and unrefreshed by his slumbers.
He hastily donned his regimentals, and entering the chapel, seated
himself in that part which was separated from the nuns by a strong, but
richly gilt iron railing. He was surveyed with no small interest by the
sequestered sisterhood, to whom it was an uncommon event to have within
their walls a male guest, so different from the bearded and shorn
priests who came as privileged individuals. A handsome young soldado,
wearing the martial garb of a land which was, in their ideas of
geography, at an immense distance, and of which they had strange
notions, especially of the ferocity and wildness of its mountaineers,
was an object of thrilling interest to these timid creatures, who
trembled at the very mention of the dangers which their military guest
had seen and dared. He was very different from Pietro, their deformed
gardener, or El Pastor, that budget of proverbs, who was their daily
visitor; and many bright and beautiful eyes, though screened by hood of
serge and veil of lawn, were fixed searchingly upon him from the
organ-loft and altar-steps; but their presence was unheeded and
uncared-for by Stuart, whose eyes were bent on the grey slab in the
centre of the chancel, while his thoughts were with the cold and
coffinless form that lay beneath it, bruised and crushed down in that
dark and gloomy hole under a load of earth. It was not until the matins
were ended and the sisters had withdrawn, that he remembered where he
was, and that the sooner he prepared to rejoin his regiment and
apologize for his singular absence the better. Indeed he had begun to
feel some most unpleasant qualms and doubts as to the issue of the
matter, with so strict a commanding-officer as Cameron of
Fassifern,--_the chief_, as he was named by the mess; and visions of a
general court-martial,--a formidable array of charges, and a sentence to
be cashiered, "a sentence of which His Majesty is most graciously
pleased to approve," arose before him.
He knew not whither the troops might have marched from Almarez; and he
feared that by crossing the Lina hills, which were many miles distant,
he might fall into the hands of the French, who he knew occupied the
adjacent country. For some time he was at a loss how to act; but, after
due consideration, was led to believe that he might fall in with some of
the British troops at Truxillo, for which place he determined to depart
immediately, remembering at the same time that he should have to appease
the wrath of the Buenos Ayrean campaigner Don Gonzago, who would
undoubtedly be very indignant at his niece's interment without his
knowledge; but, in fact, Ronald Stuart had totally forgotten the
existence of her uncle, which was the reason of the oversight. As he
left the chapel, he was met by the demure and starched old portress, who
invited him to breakfast with the lady abbess in an arbour in the
garden. It would have been inconsistent with courtesy and gallantry to
have refused, and contrary to his own inclination, for in truth he was
half famished, as he had not 'broken bread' since the night before the
capture of Almarez, and nature demanded nourishment. In the arbours of
the garden, which were formed of heavy masses of blooming rose-trees,
honeysuckle, and vines, supported by green painted trellis-work, the
nuns were seated at their simple repast, which was no sooner over, than
they commenced their daily occupation of making pincushions, embroidered
shirt-collars, tinting fans, and working brocade dresses, all of which
were sold for the benefit of the poor, or of the funds of the convent.
In a large arbour, at the back of which a cool spring of sparkling water
bubbled up in a marble basin, the smiling abbess was seated, awaiting
her guest. The table was covered with a white cloth, wrought over with
religious emblems, variously coloured, and in elaborate needle-work. A
Spanish breakfast is usually a very simple one, but the abbess had made
an unusual display this morning. There were platters filled with grapes
and oranges, freshly pulled from the branches that formed the roof of
the arbour. A vase of boiled milk, flanked by two silver cups of
chocolate--so thick that the spoons stood in it, bread, butter, eggs,
jellies, and marmalade, composed the repast; to which was added a flask
of the wine of Ciudad Real, a place long famous for the quality of its
produce.
The abbess did the honours of the table with a grace which showed that,
when in the world, she had been accustomed to the best society in Spain.
There was a sweetness in her tones and an elegance in every movement,
which could not have failed to charm one less absorbed in other thoughts
than Ronald Stuart. However, he could not help remarking the fine form
of her hands, the dazzling whiteness of her arm, and the beauty of her
dark brown curls, which she wore in unusual abundance, and showed rather
more than was quite in character with one of her profession. Stuart was
too full of thought to prove an agreeable companion, and behaved, I dare
say, so very inattentively, that the gay abbess thought him a very dull
fellow, notwithstanding his Highland uniform, and the lively account he
gave of his own distant home and what he had seen on service in Spain.
After paying a last visit to the tomb of Catalina, he departed from the
convent. The abbess made a sign of the cross on his forehead, kissed
him on both cheeks, gave him her solemn blessing in Latin, and dismissed
him at the back gate of the building, which stood on the Truxillo road.
As he rode along, mounted again on Campbell's horse, many a glance he
gave behind him, not at the figure of the abbess, who waved her kerchief
from the gate, but at the gothic pinnacles and high stone-roof of the
chapel, beneath which lay the mortal remains of the once-generous and
ardent Catalina.
*CHAPTER XI.*
*A SINGLE COMBAT.*
"And lang they foucht, and sair they foucht,
Wi' swords of mettyl kene;
Till clotted bluid, in mony a spot,
Was sprynkelit on the grene."
_Gilmanscleugh._
It was a delightful summer morning: there was an exhilarating freshness
in the air, which raised the spirits of Stuart, as the distance
increased between him and the scene of his sorrows. The merry birds were
hopping and chirping about from spray to spray; the wild flowers which
blossomed by the way-side were giving forth their richest perfume, and
expanding their dewy cups and leaves to the warmth of the rising sun.
Behind him lay the dark wood of Jarciejo, and above it arose the curved
ridges of the Lina,--their bright tints mellowed by distance as they
stretched away towards New Castile. Before him lay a long tract of
beautiful country, tufted woods and vineyards, with here and there
yellow cornfields, rocks surmounted by old feudal strongholds, most of
them ruinous; and in many places by the road-side, the blackened remains
of the cottages of the paisanos marked the ruthless devastations made by
Massena in his retreat some time before.
Ronald would have contemplated with delight the varying of the landscape
as he rode along, but for the sorrow which pressed heavy upon his heart,
intermingled with certain fears of what his reception might be at the
regiment after so unaccountable a desertion, and in what light it might
be viewed by his brother-officers. Full of these exciting ideas, at
times he drove his horse furiously forward, as if he strove to leave his
thoughts behind him, and shorten as much as possible the distance
between himself and his comrades. He longed to behold the embattled
towers, the slender spires and belfries of Truxillo, where he hoped to
find his comrades, and explain his singular disappearance; but Truxillo
was yet leagues distant. As the road plunged down among the green
woodlands through which it wound, he enjoyed the cool shadow which the
tall chesnuts cast over the otherwise hot dusty road, which shone
glaring and white in the rays of the meridian sun.
A faint chorus came floating on the breeze towards him as he rode along,
and swelled out into a bold and merry strain on his nearer approach. The
cracking of whips and jingle of innumerable bells announced a train of
muleteers, who came in view a few seconds afterwards, and gave a
boisterous cheer at sight of the scarlet uniform. According to the
custom of the muleteers during hot weather, they all wore large cotton
handkerchiefs, knotted round their heads, under their sombreros; their
tasselled jackets were flying open, and their broad shirt-collars, stiff
with flowers and needlework, were folded over their shoulders,
displaying every bare and brawny neck. The train halted, and Ronald
recognised his old acquaintance Lazaro Gomez, the master muleteer, who
took off his beaver with one hand, while he reined-in the leading mule
with the other. Lazaro's speculations appeared to have been successful.
His jacket was now of fine green velvet, covered with tinsel lace and
garnished with about six dozen of those brass bell-buttons, with which
the muleteers are so fond of adorning their garments.
"Well, Micer Lazaro," said Stuart, "why do you drive your cattle so fast
during the heat of the day, when they should be enjoying a _siesta_
under the greenwood? They are likely to drop before you reach the
forest of Jarciejo."
"_Par Diez_! I hope not, senor," replied the muleteer, in evident
trepidation at the idea. "They shall reach Jarciejo,--we are ruined
else; and I trust, in this perilous time, that the gracious senora, our
Lady of Majorga," crossing himself and looking upwards, "will not forget
the honest muleteer, that never passed her shrine without bestowing on
it a handful of maravedis. She will put mettle in the legs of his
mules, and enable them to save his hard-earned goods and chattels."
"How, Micer Gomez,--what is the matter? You seem much excited."
"_Santissima Casa!_ is it possible that you know not the reason, senor.
_El demonio_! I thought you had ten thousand British at your back. The
whole country round about is in possession of the French, and hard work
we have had since we left Truxillo to escape being plundered of every
maravedi. And only think, senor, what a loss I should have suffered!
Why there are thirty skins of the best wine of Ciudad Real on the black
mule,--_Capitana_ we call her,--she takes the lead; as many skins of the
olive oil of Lebrija, the best in Spain, on the pad of the
second,--_Bocaneyra_, or 'the black muzzle,' as we name it."
"The French--the French at Truxillo!" exclaimed Ronald in astonishment.
"Where, then, is Sir Rowland Hill with his troops?'
"On his march for Merida, senor; and by this time many a league beyond
Villa Macia. On the third mule--_Castana_ we name her, from her colour,
there are twenty arrobas of corn from the Huerta of Orihuela,[*] all for
the nuns of Santa Cruz, and worth in reals--"
[*] The fertility of Orihuela has become a proverb among the Spaniards:
"Whether there is rain or not, there is always corn at Orihuela."
_Llueva, o no llueva, trigo en Orihuela_. An arroba is a measure
containing a quarter of a hundred weight.
"Are the enemy in great force hereabouts?" asked Ronald, who felt
considerably concerned for his own safety.
"Truly, senor, I know not; but their light cavalry are riding in every
direction. Some say that Marshal Soult, and others that the Count
D'Erlon, has entered Estremadura, and that the British are all cut to
pieces."
"That I do not believe."
"Nor I;--no, by the bones of the Cid Campeador, 'tis not likely. But as
I was saying, senor, twenty arrobas of corn--"
"Twenty devils! Halt, Micer Lazaro; if you stay to tell over the
inventory of your goods, you are not likely to escape the claws of the
enemy, a party of whom I see on the top of the hill yonder."
A volley of curses broke from the muleteers at this intelligence. A
party of cavalry in blue uniform appeared on the road, descending an
eminence at some distance; and the glitter of their weapons, as they
flashed in the sun, was seen between the branches of the trees. Crack
went the whips.
"_Ave Maria--demonios--par Diez!_ we are plundered and ruined!" cried
the mule-drivers, as they lashed their long-eared cattle into a trot.
"The rich oil, the wine and corn--_carajo!_--to be pillaged by the base
French! But what is to be done? Were they under the roof of the
Santissima Casa, which the blessed angels brought from Galilee to
Loretto, they would not be safe. Forward, Capitana! gallant mule, sure
of foot and long of wind. Hoa, Pedro de Puebla! keep up your
black-muzzled sloth; we will flay its flanks with our whips else.
Farewell to you, senor! Our Lady del Pilar aid us! we are in a sad
pickle." And off they went, without farther ceremony, at their utmost
speed, running by the side of their mules, and lashing them lustily,
leaving Stuart looking steadily at the advancing party of horse, but
dubious what course to pursue.
He could not stoop to have recourse to a deliberate flight; and as the
enemy was between him and his friends, it was necessary to elude them by
any means. Reining back his horse, he withdrew beneath the cover of a
thicket beside the road. He was scarcely ensconced among the foliage,
when about twenty _chasseurs a cheval_, with their short carbines
resting on their thighs and their officer riding in front, wheeled round
a corner of the road, and passed his place of concealment at an easy
pace. As soon as they were hidden by the windings of the road and the
heavy green foliage which overshadowed it, Stuart emerged from his
cover, and continued his route at a hard gallop towards Truxillo, which,
however, he determined to avoid by a detour, in case of falling in with
more of the French. He had not ridden a quarter of a mile, before a
sudden angle of the path, which now passed under the cool shade of
several vine-trellises, brought him abruptly face to face with two
French officers, whose horses were trotting along at a very ambling
rate. On seeing him they instantly drew up, while their faces assumed
an expression of unmeasured surprise. They were not above twelve yards
distant. Ronald likewise drew his bridle, and unsheathing his sword,
reconnoitred the Gauls, between whom a few words passed. One was a pale
and thin man, in a staff uniform embroidered with oak-leaves. He
carried his right arm in a black silk sling. The other was a dashing
officer of cuirassiers, a man of singularly fine and muscular
proportions; he was mounted on a powerful black war-horse, and wore a
high brass helmet, with the Imperial eagle on its crest, and a plume of
black horse-hair floating over it. He was accoutred with a bright steel
cuirass and backplate, and leather jack-boots which came above the
knees. Both wore splendid epaulets and aiguillets, and were covered on
the breast with medals and military orders of knighthood,--indeed there
were few French officers who were not so.
Ronald saw at a glance that the heavy dragoon would be his opponent, and
he felt some unpleasant doubts as to the issue of a conflict with a
practised cavalry officer, and one thus sheathed in a panoply of steel
and leather, while he himself had nothing to protect him from the blade
of his adversary but his thin regimental coat and tartan plaid.
The officer with the wounded arm moved his horse to the road-side, while
the cuirassier twirled his moustaches with a grim smile, and unsheathed
his glittering weapon--a species of long and straight back-sword, worn
by the French cavalry, and desired Ronald imperiously to surrender
without striking a blow.
"_Rendez sans coup ferir, Monsieur Officier_."
Finding that he was not understood, and that Stuart prepared to defend
himself, he reined his steed back a little way; and then dashing his
spurs into its flanks, came thundering forward at full speed, shouting
"_Vive l'Empereur!_" with his long blade uplifted, intending to hurl his
adversary into eternity by a single stroke. But Stuart, by an adroit
management of his horse's bridle, made a _demi-volte_ or half-turn to
his left, at the same time stooping his head till the plumes of his
bonnet mingled with the mane of his horse, to avoid the Frenchman's
sweeping stroke, which whistled harmlessly through the air; while he in
return dealt him a back-handed blow on the crest of his helmet as he
passed him in his career, which at once tumbled him over his horse's
head and stretched him senseless in the dust, while his sword fell from
his grasp, and broke in a dozen pieces. Elated with this sudden and
unlooked-for success, Ronald brandished his claymore aloft, and rushed
on to the next officer; but drew back, and lowered the point of his
weapon, on perceiving the startled and indignant look of the veteran,
who held up his wounded arm.
"Pass on, sir!" said Ronald, substituting Spanish for French, of which
he scarcely knew above a dozen words. "I might, if I chose, make you
prisoner; but I wish not to take advantage of your being wounded. Pass
on, sir; the road is open before you."
The Frenchman appeared to understand him imperfectly, but raising his
cocked hat, he prepared at once to take the benefit of the permission.
"Adieu, Monsieur de Mesmai!" said he, on passing his fallen comrade,
adding something in a whisper, fragments of which only reached Ronald.
"_Malheurs, mon ami--a la guerre--comme a la guerre--retournez et
reprenez-vous--chasseurs a cheval_," and he galloped off. Ronald was
half tempted to ride after and cut him down, and thus securely stop his
intention of returning with the twenty light-horsemen, as he supposed he
meant to do, for the disjointed fragments he had heard implied an
understanding between them.