Some two hours after nightfall, as the unhappy Lerma lay in darkness and
solitude, (for Befo was no longer permitted to be his companion,) the
door of the prison opened, and the Alguazil, Villafana, entered, bearing
a lantern, which emitted just sufficient light to allow his features to
be distinguished, together with what seemed a flask of wine--a luxury
now to be occasionally obtained, since vessels arrived not unfrequently
from the islands.
"How now, what cheer, senor?" he exclaimed, setting down the flask upon
the table, and turning the light full upon Juan's face; "are you saying
your prayers? Here's that shall give you better comfort,--something from
the vineyards of Xeres de la Frontera,--stout Sherry, that shall make
your heart bounce, were it broken twice over.--Come, faith, it will make
you merry."
"I shall never be merry more," said Juan; "and why should I? It is
better I should not. I thank you for your good-will, Villafana; but I
would that, instead of this wine, if it be not contrary to your duty,
you would fetch me the good father Olmedo, to finish the confession,
begun upon the block, and so abruptly interrupted, this morning."
"Pho, be not in such a hurry: you have time enough. The priest is busy,
and knowing he must shrive you to-morrow, he will be ill inclined to
trouble himself superfluously to-night. Come, sit up, drink, laugh, and
curse thy foes. Come, now,--a merry God's blessing! may you live a
thousand years!--Dzoog! bah! dzoog!--Now could I fight seven tigers!"
"It is better thou shouldst drink it than I," said Juan, observing the
strong and somewhat fantastic gestures with which the Alguazil expressed
his approbation, after having taken a hearty draught of the liquor; "yet
bethink thee, Villafana,--"
"'Slid!" interrupted the jailer, "bethink thyself! and bethink thee that
this will make thee a good fellow of a warhorse mettle, whereas, now,
thou art but a sick lambkin. What makes a beggar a king, hah? a tailor's
'prentice a Cid Ruy Diaz of Castile,--a doughty Campeador? Pho, there is
more of this, and to-morrow it will flow: Dost thou not know, Don
Demonios, our king, has invited us to a banquet to-morrow? Thou shalt
hear this banquet spoken of for a thousand years. Ah, the good ship! the
good ship! there is a better thing she brings us than wine.--But that is
neither here nor there. Why dost thou not drink?"
"Am I not condemned to death for the infraction of a decree?" said Juan,
somewhat sternly, for he thought he perceived in Villafana's levity a
symptom of undue excitement; "and dost thou not remember that there is a
decree also against drunkenness? Thou hast suffered somewhat from this
already."
"Dost thou suppose there is a hell?" said Villafana, with some such look
as that which had appalled Juan, when he walked with him over the
meadows beyond the city: "For, if thou dost, know then, that I make my
promise to the infernal fiend, to broil with him seven times seven
thousand years, if I do not, with a stab for every lash, make up my
reckoning with the man who degraded me! _Ojala_ and Amen!--So now,
there's enough to keep thee quiet.--Hast thou any gall any where but in
thy liver?"
"Thou art besotted, or insane, I think," said Juan, angrily. "I am a
dying man: begone, and suffer me to make my peace with heaven."
"Come, you think I am drunk," said Villafana, somewhat more rationally:
"I grant you; but it is with a stuff stronger than strong drink;--ay,
faith, for, to-morrow, I see my way to heaven!--Answer me, truly: have
you no thirst for vengeance on those who have brought you to this
pass?--You see I am sober, hah? One would not die like a sheep.--You may
play the wolf yet. What if you had an opportunity--"
"Tempt me not, knave," said Juan, turning away his face--"Avoid thee,
Satan!"
"What if I should knock open thy doors, and put a sword into thy hand?"
said Villafana, bending over, so as to whisper into his ear; "what
wouldst thou do with it?"
"Break it," replied the prisoner, wrapping his mantle about his head, as
if to shut out all further temptation.
"Thou art a fool," said the Alguazil, with a growl, and left the
apartment.
Juan heard his retreating steps, followed by the clanking of the chain,
which, with a strong padlock, on the outside, secured the door of the
prison; yet he neither raised his head, nor removed the mantle from his
face, but endeavoured to drive from his heart the thoughts of passion,
excited by the words of the tempter. From this gloomy task he was roused
by a soft voice, murmuring, as it seemed to him from the air, for he was
not aware of the presence of any human being in the apartment,--
"Does the Great Eagle fear the face of his friend?"
He started to his feet, and beheld in the light of the lantern, which
Villafana had left on the table, the figure of an ancient Indian,
standing hard by.
"Techeechee!" he exclaimed--"But no; thy speech is pure, thy tongue is
another's. Who art thou, gray-head of Mexico?"
"To-day, Cojotl, the cunning fox of scribes,--yesterday, Olin, the
tongue of nobles,--but before, and hereafter, Guatimozin, the friend of
the Great Eagle," replied the Indian, and as he spoke, he exchanged the
decrepit stoop of age for the lofty demeanour of youth, and parted the
gray locks which had hitherto almost concealed his countenance.
"Rash prince," said Juan, "will you yet wear the chains of Montezuma?
Why dost thou again entrust thyself among Spaniards?"
"How came the Great Eagle into the place of Guatimozin?" demanded the
young Mexican, expressively: "Shall he die for Guatimozin, and
Guatimozin stand afar off?"
"Alas, prince," said Juan, "thy friendship is noble, but can do me no
good. Leave this place, where thou art in great danger, and think of me
no more. I am beyond the reach of help. Think of thyself,--of thy
people, (for, surely, it is thy duty to protect them,) and depart while
thou canst."
"And what am I, that I should do this thing?" said Guatimozin. "Listen
to me, son of the day-spring: the children of Spain are wolves and
reptiles; the iztli is sharp for them, and it must not spare. But thou,
the young Eagle, shalt remain the friend of Guatimozin. Has not
Malintzin eaten of thy blood? is he not like the big tiger that takes by
the throat? and who shall draw him away? Canst thou remain, and smile on
another sunset? I bring thee liberty."
"How!" said Juan; "is Villafana this traitor, that he will permit me to
escape?"
"He is a rat with two faces," said the prince, significantly; "he fears
the wrath of Malintzin; he loves gold, but he says thou shalt not go
till to-morrow, and to-morrow thou wilt be in Mictlan, the world of
caves. But Guatimozin can do what the traitor Christian will not. The
Eagle is very brave: he shall kill his foe."
As Guatimozin spoke, he drew from his cloak a Spanish dagger, long,
sharp and exceedingly bright,--a relic of the spoils won from the
invaders in the Night of Sorrow,--and offered it to the prisoner,
adding,
"When I depart, a soldier will fasten the door. If thou art
strong-hearted, thou canst rush by, dealing him a blow. At the water's
edge, by the broken wall, thou wilt find a friend with a canoe; it is
Techeechee. Is not Tenochtitlan hard by? Guatimozin, the king of Mexico,
will make his friend welcome."
"Prince," said Juan, sadly, "this thing cannot be. Why should I strike
down the poor sentinel? He has done me no wrong. What would become of
thee? Thou couldst not escape. What would become of Villafana, who,
knave though he be, has yet done much to serve me? And what, to
conclude, would become of _me_, escaping from Christians, to take refuge
among thy unbelieving people? I can die, prince, but I can be neither
renegade nor apostate."
"Is there nothing in Tenochtitlan, that dwells in the thoughts of the
captive? I will be very good to thee; and thou shalt drink the blood of
thy foe."
"Prince," said Juan, firmly, "thine eye cannot search the soul of a
Christian. Malintzin has done me a great wrong, yet would I not harm a
hair of his head; no, heaven is my witness! I can forgive him even my
death, however unjust and cruel."
"It is a dove of Cholula that speaks in the voice of my friend," said
the infidel, struck with as much disdain as surprise at the want of
spirit, which his barbarous code of honour discovered in a lack of
vindictiveness: "Is a man a worm that he should be trampled on?"
"No," said Juan, bitterly,--for he could not resist his feelings of
indignation, when he suffered himself to consider his degradation in
this light. "Had I resisted him in his first anger, had I resented his
first injustice, had I provoked him by any complaint, then might I think
of his course with submission. But I have not; I have been, indeed, as
thou sayest, a worm, at all times helpless, at all times unresisting.
Others have complained, some have defied him, but they passed
unpunished. I, who have yielded, like a woman, escape not: I creep from
the path of his anger, but his foot follows me,--turn which way I will,
it crushes me. Even Befo will show his teeth sometimes--I have seen him
growl when Cortes struck him--and by mine honour, I think he struck him,
because he was once mine!"
How far, by indulging such thoughts, he might have wrought himself into
the very spirit which Guatimozin was surprised to find absent, we will
not venture to say. He was interrupted by the sudden re-entrance of
Villafana, who immediately exclaimed,
"Will you have my brother Najara diving in upon you? Pho, you talk too
loud: 'tis well you were gabbling in Mexican. Hark ye, Olin, you knave,
get you gone! to your den, sirrah!--Pray, senor Juan, tell this rascal,
in his own gibberish, that he cannot remain a moment longer from his
lock-up, without being discovered.--Come, fellow, come: you shall have
more talk to-morrow."
So saying, the Alguazil conducted the Mexican away. A few moments after,
he returned alone. Juan, still disordered and brooding over his wrongs,
paced to and fro over the narrow limits of his cell. His agitation
Increased with each step, and, at last, finding that Villafana did not
speak, he exclaimed,
"Come, Villafana,--I know what thou wilt say,--am I not used dog-like?
He disdained even to sit upon the trial, to ask me what I had to urge in
excuse of my folly; but left this to judges, who were content to ask
'Didst thou this?' and 'Didst thou that?' without permitting me a word
of defence. Surely, I had much provocation in the matter of Guzman; and
as for the decree, it should have been remembered, that I was come into
the camp too short a time to have made it as fast in my mind as others,
who had heard it daily proclaimed for months. I must die for this!--die
like a hunted assassin!--my hand stuck against the prison-door, my body
given, perhaps, to fatten the lean hogs that will fatten my judges! Oh,
by heaven, this is intolerable to think on!"
"Thou wilt believe, now, that thou wert sent to the South Sea for no
good?"
"Ay, I will believe anything," said Juan, in increasing excitement. "And
_this_ too! scarce an hour returned from my sufferings, endured for
him,--endured to regain his good-will! Ay, and before I had done
speaking, he would have sent me to Mexico, to be sacrificed
there!--before I had eaten and drunk! before I had rested my wearied
body, before I had recruited my exhausted strength!--Tell me, Villafana!
was it not by his design I was entrapped into giving shelter to--But,
no! that could not be; in that, at least, he must be innocent. But, in
the rest, it is oppression, grinding, intolerable oppression!"
"Well, I marvel he did not let thee off with a scourging," said
Villafana, swallowing another draught from the neglected flask. "Come,
drink, and we will discourse together."
"A scourging!" said Juan, seizing the Alguazil's arm with a grasp which
showed that imprisonment and sorrow had not altogether robbed him of
strength; "dare you talk to me of scourging?"
"Ay, marry," said Villafana, whose object seemed to be to excite the
slumbering fury of the young man, and who now, in the effect of a word
used for another purpose, discovered a point on which his equanimity was
not impregnable; "ay, faith; for the whole army cries out upon his
barbarity, saying that he is murdering you; so that he already talks of
letting you off with a scourging.--He was as good with me."
"By the saints of heaven!" cried Juan, snatching up the dagger which
Guatimozin had left, and striking it into the table with a fury which
split the plank in twain, "were it his own, I would drive this steel
into the breast of the man that designed me such dishonour. Scourge me!
Thanks be to heaven, that sends this weapon!"
"Oho, senor!" said Villafana, with counterfeited indignation, "you will
resist, will you! Hah! and you have a dagger, too! Come, senor, give it
up."
"Fool," said the prisoner, "thy bitter words have unchained me at last,
and driven me to desperation. I will not yield this weapon but with my
life. Wo betide him that comes to me with a scourge, were it Don Hernan
himself!"
"You will resist him then?--Why now you are a man again! Sit down; fear
not: you shall have a better weapon. Come, let us drink a little: 'tis a
raw night, and rainy. Here's success to our vengeance--a quart of blood
apiece! Methinks, you are more wronged than myself--Therefore, you shall
strike the first blow. I give you this privilege, out of friendship. The
second is mine."
While Villafana held forth in these extraordinary terms, Juan, shocked
into composure, became aware that the wine, which the Alguazil plied
with characteristic infatuation, had already made serious inroads upon
his brain. He ogled and smiled, with a stupid contortion of countenance,
which was meant to be significant; his articulation was impeded, and his
expressions coarser than usual; and without being positively drunk, he
was reduced to that condition in which the natural propensities get the
better of all artificial qualities. Hence, he became fierce and
bloody-minded, without displaying any of the subtle cautiousness and
cunning inquisitiveness, that were common to him in his sober hours. It
was for this reason that he proceeded to unfold the secrets of his
breast, without being in any degree abashed by the looks of horror, with
which Juan heard him.
"Know then, brother Juan," said he, "that thou shalt lap the blood of
Don Demonios to-morrow morning, at the banquet-table; and afterwards
hang up Guzman with thine own hands. Thou art too white-livered, or thou
shouldst have known of the matter earlier. Also, thou shalt have thy
fair nun again, as before:--that is, upon condition she likes thee
better than me; which may be, or may not, for who can tell whether the
star will shoot into the marsh, or fall upon the mountain?--Bah! it is a
pity I brought thee not another flagon. Busta! I will drink no more; for
this is no time to be thick-witted.--Know then, _Juanito querido_, we
have brought our conspiracy to a head; and out of the nine hundred
Christians in this town there are two hundred and forty sworn on dirk,
buckler, and crucifix, to our whole game,--three hundred, who will wink
and stand by, till the play is over,--three hundred who will swear faith
to the devil himself, when Don Demonios lies hid in his pocket,--and as
for the rest, why we must e'en have some hanging and stabbing."
"In heaven's name," said Juan, "what dost thou mean? Art thou really
mad? Bethink thee what thou art saying!"
"Hah!" cried Villafana, "wilt thou skulk backwards, after all? Dost thou
pretend to oppose us? We had some thoughts of making thee one of the
three chief captains. This Olea stands to; for he swears thou art the
best leader in the camp."
"Is Gaspar sworn among you?" said Juan, with a faint voice, his
detestation of the bloody scheme arousing him to the necessity of
sifting it to the bottom--for he forgot his captivity, and thought only
of arresting the progress of a treason so fearful.
"Ay," returned the Alguazil; "and better men than he. Come, clap thy
name to the paper, and I swear thou shalt have a command among us,
though I should kill thy rival-candidate Gil Gonzales, with my own hand.
Dost thou not know these fellows? We have hidalgos among us."
As he spoke, he pulled from his bosom a paper, on which Juan read with
affright the names of several men of rank, mingled with those of common
soldiers, with many of which he was familiar. His first thought was to
secure this dreadful list, and calling to the guards about the prison,
arrest the Alguazil upon the spot. A moment's consideration determined
him to take further advantage of the communicativeness of the traitor,
until made acquainted with all the details of the conspiracy. He bridled
his anger, therefore, and concealing his horror under an appearance of
doubt and hesitation, to which his trembling agitation gave no little
force, he said,
"How is this? Are these names good and true?"--
"See you not Barba Roxa's sign-manual, near the bottom of the list? He
subscribed it last night. He draws the figure of a knife well, as one
who knows how to use it. But as for thee, _nino mio_, thou art able to
write thy signature in full."
"Stay," cried Juan. "What are you to do? You spoke of a banquet, and the
morning. Assassination, hah?"
"Did I not tell thee before? Look," said the Alguazil, with a harsh
laugh, displaying a letter, well secured with wax and fillet, on which
was written the name of the Captain-General. "Know, that this letter,
written carefully on the outside, by mine own hand, (for there is
nothing within,) comes from the senor's sire, old Don Martin, whom the
devil take to his rest, for fathering so ill-tempered a son. This
letter, thou must know," he went on with a chuckle of self-approving
craft, "came in the ship of Seville that brought this good wine, and
was, by an evil accident, detained on the way. Know, sirrah, and this is
my device: The general hath forgotten to invite me to his feast
to-morrow, in honour of his saint-day, or some other thing--_Quien
sabe?_ It is very rude. But he has invited all my caballeros on this
paper, and some four score soldiers, who are down likewise. The rest
will take their ease in the vestibule, and on the square, to be ready.
What do I then? Marry, this: I break in upon the revel with the letter
in my hand, and a dagger in my sleeve; the others crowd round with
congratulations, and I strike him under the ribs--Pho! I forgot; thou
canst not have the _first_ blow, as I promised thee; but thou shalt
follow, cloaked up to the eyes, and be free to take the second.--What
dost thou think of my plot, hah, dear devil? Hah!--"
"That it is the most damnable and dastardly ever devised by villain, and
shall bring thee to a villain's death. Rogue! didst thou think thou
couldst tell this to _me_, and live? I have thy treason in my hand, and
will use it as it becomes an honourable man and Christian. What ho,
guards! treason, treason!"
Greatly astounded as Villafana was by this unexpected defection, the
shock served rather to sober than affright him. He gave the prisoner a
look of unspeakable malice, and whipping out his sword and calling for
help as clamorously as Juan, he assaulted him with the utmost fury. At
the same time, five or six of the guardsmen rushed in, and to Juan's
utter dismay, instead of aiding him to secure the Alguazil, rushed upon
him, some with their spears, to transfix him against the wall, while
others, springing behind him, secured him in their arms, and hurled him
upon the floor. In an instant, he had lost both the fatal list and the
dagger of Guatimozin, and was at the mercy of Villafana, who knelt upon
his breast, and shortened his sword, to despatch him with a thrust. But
at the very moment when he had given up all hope, and was commending his
soul to his Maker, the savage and exulting laugh with which the Alguazil
aimed at his throat, was changed to an exclamation of alarm and pain. Up
started the assassin, and Juan, springing also to his feet, he beheld,
with surprise, the figure of La Monjonaza standing betwixt him and the
assailants. The gray mantle had fallen from her head and shoulders,
revealing a form of the finest symmetry, and a countenance convulsed
into beauty, such as might have become a warring Bellona; to whom she
might have been well compared, only that in place of the whip and torch
which a moralizing mythology has put into the hands of the goddess, she
held an emblem equally expressive, in a short dagger, gleaming with
blood from the shoulder of Villafana.
"Villain!" she cried, after looking as if she would have repeated the
blow, "art thou not yet requited? Begone!"
And the discomfited traitor, scowling and pointing at the blood
trickling from his arm, and yet obviously quailing before her stern
frown, left the prison, followed by the guards, who seemed even more
terrified than himself.