The royal garden of Tezcuco was an extensive piece of ground, fenced, on
three sides, by the palace and its dependencies, and bounded on the
fourth, by the waters of the lake, from which it was divided by a low
wall, long since broken down by the Conquerors, by certain shadowy
buildings, and by clumps of noble cypresses and other trees. The moon,
not yet near her full, shone westward of the meridian, in a sky
intensely azure and almost cloudless; and her beams could be traced,
through the wall of cypresses, glittering and dancing on the light
waves, as they rippled up merrily to the night-breeze. What taste was
displayed in the plan and cultivation of the garden, could not be
determined, at this hour, and in this insufficient, though beautiful,
light. One could behold, indeed, obscurely, flower-beds and shrubberies,
winding alleys and hanging groves, little still pools and even, here and
there, a jetting fountain, scattered about in a manner which the
imagination might believe was designed and judicious; but it seemed, at
night, rather a wilderness, in which the nostrils had greater reason to
be gratified than the eyes. A thousand odours fell from the trees, a
thousand scents rose from the flowers, as the heads of the one and the
petals of the other were shaken by the flitting gusts. It was a scene
calculated at least to soothe exasperated feelings, and induce sentiment
and melancholy in the breast of the contemplative.
To Juan's temperament, it would have been, at any other moment,
saddening enough; but his thoughts were, at present, far too much, and
far too painfully, engaged, to permit any to be wasted upon it.
As he followed hastily at the heels of the Alguazil, he made one or two
agitated attempts to draw from him some further tokens to remove or
confirm his boding suspicions; but the Alguazil had on the sudden grown
very cautiously or very maliciously silent, and answered only by
pressing his finger on his lips, eyeing the youth significantly, and
hurrying him more rapidly along.
He led him to a spot, almost in the centre of the garden, where a little
oval-shaped pool lay embosomed among schinus-trees, whose long weeping
branches, stirred by the wind, swept gracefully over and in the water,
which was only agitated, when thus disturbed by the motion of a bough,
or by the plunge of the fragrant berries, the harvest of a former year,
which dropped at intervals from the cluster. A single moonbeam found its
way into this solitary inclosure, falling upon a limited portion of a
path which seemed to surround the pool. In other respects, all was dark
and invisible, and not a ray could be seen on the water, save when the
spectator, peering over the brink, beheld some faint star of the zenith
glimmering down among the shadowy depths.
Upon this path, and in this moonbeam, the Alguazil paused, and pointing
hastily to a nook--the darkest of all where all were dark,--Juan
perceived obscurely what seemed a moving figure. The next moment,
Villafana passed among the boughs, retracing his steps, and strode again
into the moonlight. As he stood an instant shaking the dew-drops from
his cloak, he beheld a dark object approaching slowly on the path. It
was the faithful Befo, who, with his head to the ground, and his tail
draggling in the grass, as if sensible of having committed a breach of
discipline, yet crawled along after his master, under the irresistible
instinct of fidelity.
"This is ill thought on, and may be unlucky," muttered Villafana, with a
subdued voice. "Here, Befo! you rascal! come with me, and you shall have
a bone.--Ay, thou ill devil!" he continued, in the same whispered tones,
as Befo, without stirring to the right or the left, and merely showing
his teeth, when the Alguazil seemed disposed to check him with his hand,
passed on towards the grove,--"go thy ways, and growl as thou wilt: thou
art the only thing in the land incorruptible. But thou wilt be
acquainted with my dagger yet, if thou hast no better appetite for my
dinner."
He resumed his path. He had not taken a dozen steps, before he became
sensible of the approach of another intruder: but this time the intruder
was human. There was something in the fashion and sweep of the garments,
which, even at a distance, apprized him of the character of the comer.
"The devil take these prying priests, monks, friars, and all!" he
muttered irreverently betwixt his teeth.--"Holy father,----Hah! by the
mass, is it thou, Camarga! my brother of all orders, monkish, mendicant,
martial, and so on? Thy masking goes the wrong way: I told thee to meet
me at the prison. 'Tis my palace, man; and the princes are in
waiting.--Come, these damp mazes are ill for thy years and diseased
liver. We will walk together."
"Senor Grunidor, as they call you," said Camarga, flinging back the
white cowl, and revealing his sallow features in the moonshine, "senor
Alguazil, carcelero, rogue, conspirator, devil, and what-not, how I came
to be so deep among your damnable devices, in the short month I have
been in this land, I know not, except that I have, like thyself, a
greater aptitude to be groping among caverns than journeying on kings'
highways. But know, sirrah, that besides _thy_ subtleties, I have some
whimseys of my own; to which, when the wind stirs them, yours must give
place, were they ten thousand times more magnificent than your wit
strives to make them appear. Begone, therefore; get thee to thy scurvy
Tlascalan, whom thou art training to the gallows; to thy Mexican
Magnifico, who is an ass to trust his neck to thy keeping; and to what
vagabond Christians will give thee their countenance, who are e'en
greater fools than thyself, and the Indians together. Get thee away: I
have business of mine own; and I will come to you when it is despatched,
or I will _not_ come,--just as the imp urges me. So away with you, and
leave me to myself."
"Under your favour, no," said Villafana, apparently too well acquainted
with the man to be much surprised at a tone and manner so unlike to
those which Camarga had used at the cypress-tree: "I must e'en have your
saintly cowl and leaden cross, to swear the two infidels together:
otherwise there is no trusting them.--They have much superstitious
reverence for our priests and ceremonies. Come, senor; I tell thee, the
Mexican will make our fortunes."
"Thine, rogue, _thine_!" said the disguised Camarga, impatiently: "Why
talkest thou to me in this stupid wise? I am an older villain than
thou.--I have a fancy for this lad of the Anakim, this thick-witted,
turtle-brained young Magog. Thou makest a mystery of him, too. 'Slid! I
will penetrate it; for I have a use to make of him, as well as thou."
"Demonios!" said Villafana; "are you seeking Juan Lerma?"
"Ay, marry. I dogged thee hitherward, I saw thee hide him in the bush,
and by St. Dominic, (who will fry my soul to cinders, for defiling his
garments--_peccavi_!) I will know what's i' the wind betwixt you, ere I
stir a step further in your counsels. Dost thou think I will be thine
accomplice, and have anything hidden from me? Thou swearest, he is to be
murdered to-morrow, too. There is no time to be lost."
"Thou art mad," said Villafana: "he is engaged on our business. I make
no mystery; I will tell you all. It is well I met thee. He has
company,--a good sword,--and would think no more of lunging through thy
holy lion's skin, if he caught thee eavesdropping--"
"Hark! dost thou not hear tuck and corselet?" said Camarga, smiling
grimly, and rattling the hilt of a sword against his concealed armour.
"I must know his companion too. I tell thee, I will have all thy
secrets, or I drop thee, perhaps denounce thee."
"Thou shalt have them," said Villafana, gradually drawing him further
from the pool. "His companion is La Monjonaza."
"Ha! sits the wind there? I must have a peep at her: they say, she is
lovely as a goddess."
"Thou wilt incense her," said Villafana, emphatically. "By heaven, thou
knowest not the temper of this woman, which is deadly. Leave the two
cooing fools to themselves. Our fortunes,--nay, faith, our lives, depend
upon them. La Monjonaza is deep in our secrets,--"
"Knave!" muttered the pretended friar, in a low but furious voice, "hast
thou trusted my life in the keeping of a woman?"
"Pho, she is an older conspirator than thou; a wiser, too, for she can
keep her temper. Out of her love for the young man, we draw our truest
safety and quickest success."
"Her love! oh fu! and is she of this corrupt fickleness, that she will
have two lovers in one hour? But it is the way with these creatures!"
"They are old lovers, very old lovers, senor," said Villafana,
endeavouring, as he spoke, but in vain, to quicken the steps of Camarga.
"You shall hear the story.--Juan Lerma's father was some low, poor, base
fellow, killed in some tumult at Isabela. The old hidalgo, Antonio del
Milagro, took the boy out of charity, first as a servant--"
"A servant? Dios mio!--Is he of no better beginning?"
"Not a jot; but the old fellow liked him, and, in the end, treated him
full as well as his own son,--a knavish lad, called Hilario, some two or
three years older than Juan."
"Slife!" said Camarga, "tell me no granddam's tale, with all tedious
particulars. How came the youth into the hands of Cortes?"
"Even by setting out to seek his fortune, somewhat early, and getting to
Santiago, where Cortes took him into keeping. You heard us say, that Don
Hernan, when he received his commission from Velasquez, sent Juan back
to his native island, to recruit forces. It was natural he should visit
his old friends at Isabela. It was here he met with, and quarrelled
about, Magdalena--"
"Magdalena!" said Camarga, with surprise. "You swore her name was
Infeliz!"
"Ay; but the true one is Magdalena. When she came from Spain--"
"From Spain!" cried Camarga, starting: "is she not an islander?"
"Pho! didst thou ever see a creature of her beauty, born out of
Andalusia?"
"I have not seen her--but I will,--yes, by all the saints of heaven, I
will,--I must.--How came she to the island?"
"Oh, a-horseback, I think," said Villafana; "for the ship was never seen
at Isabela: never question about that. The two young dogs, Hilario and
Juan, found her somewhere, brought her to old Milagro, and, Juan being
more favoured and better beloved than Hilario, who, to say truth, was
both ugly and vicious, they fought about her, and Hilario was killed.
Thus, Juan was left the master of the beauty; but being tired of her, or
afraid of old Milagro's vengeance, or perhaps both, he fled again to
Cuba, and thence as you heard, came to Mexico in a fusta. What brought
Magdalena after him I know not, unless 'twas mad, raging love; yes,
faith, that's the cause; for she cares not half so much for Don Hernan.
But they did say, at Isabela, she had a better cause; for the ship, it
was well known--"
"Fool of all fools!" said Camarga, with a strange and unnatural laugh,
"didst thou not say the ship was never seen at Isabela?"
"Ay, truly; but it was seen on the rocks at the Point of Alonso, not
many leagues distant," replied Villafana; and then added, "I would thou
couldst be more choice of thine epithets of endearment. These 'knaves,'
'rogues,' and 'fools,' do well enough among friends; but one may season
discourse too strongly with them, even for the roughest appetite.--The
ship was a wreck: there was said to be foul work about it; but that's
neither here nor there. The girl was brought ashore by the young men,
Juan being good in the management of a skiff,--indeed, a notoriously
skilful and fearless sailor. What was said of Magdalena, was this,"
continued the Alguazil, with a low, confidential voice: "It was
discovered, or at least conjectured, that the ship was no other than the
Santa Anonciacion, a vessel sent from Seville with a bevy of
nuns,--faith, some worshippers of thine own good St. Dominic,--who were
to found a convent at the Havana. It was whispered, that the fair
Magdalena was even one of the number, and therefore--But the thing must
be plain! To be a nun, and to love young fellows _par amours_--this is a
matter for the Inquisition. But thanks be to God, we have no good
Brothers in Mexico!--I will tell thee more, as we walk, and show thee,
if thou hast not the wit to see it, how much it concerns us to have a
friend like La Monjonaza."
"I have heard enough," said Camarga, with tones deep and hoarse;
"enough, and more than enough. And this woman was, _then_, the leman of
Juan Lerma, and, now, the creature of Cortes!"--Here he muttered
something to himself. Then, speaking with an audible voice, he said,
"Get thee to thy den, and look to thyself: there is danger afloat, and
full enough to excuse me from meddling with thee to-night. There is a
force of men concealed near to the prison, and commanded by Guzman. Ask
no questions--look to thyself: thou art suspected."
At these words, Villafana became greatly alarmed, and exchanging but a
few words more with Camarga, hastily departed. He was no sooner gone,
than Camarga, yielding to an emotion he had long suppressed, fell upon
his knees and uttered wild prayers, mingled with groans and
maledictions, all the while beating his breast and brows. Then rising
and whipping out his sword, as if to execute some deadly purpose of
vengeance, he strode towards the pool.