IN WHICH THE READER WILL FIND MUCH THAT IS CURIOUS AND INTERESTING.
WHEN morning came, and the priests were awakened by the singing of
birds and the chattering of monkeys (as if in derision at their
sloth), they no sooner discovered their great loss than they set to
berating each another right soundly; not because they cared a whit
for what evil the fellow could do, but that, having set their hearts
on the hanging, it only grieved them to find that they had lost so
excellent an opportunity of thus skilfully paying the scamp off for
his tricks. "Let us preserve peace between us, for perhaps it is
ordained of heaven!" said the venerable priest, with great solemnity
of countenance. "And remember, brothers, we have made Jose Farino
king, and have much need to join him, and lend him our aid in
driving these vagabonds out of the country." Much debate was had on
this question, which, however, resulted in an agreement to first
pursue and recapture the condemned. So after they had refreshed
themselves, and offered up prayer for the success of their
undertaking, they mounted their mules and set off at full speed. But
as is too often the case with them when over-anxious to get sinners
to heaven, they forgot to look for the footprints, and galloped
their mules in the wrong direction, and there we must leave them.
Being scrupulous of the character which my hero shall maintain for
strict honesty, I here enjoin the reader to remember the
circumstances under which General Roger Potter, ruler over all
Kalorama, was constrained to commit a theft so small as that of the
mule and the priest's gown. Life is sweet with the greatest heroes;
and let no man question the means by which they seek to preserve it
until he has felt the halter about his own neck.
Know then, that while the priests were pursuing their blind way,
eager for a victim, the retreating ruler, being hungry and anxious,
was entering the cabin of a poor peasant woman, having travelled
some twenty miles on the road without stopping. No sooner did the
poor woman see him than she fell upon her knees, crossed herself and
began saying her beads. In short she paid reverence to him in so
many ways that he became alarmed lest she go mad with joy; for being
clad in the garb of a priest, and in his bare feet, she mistook him
for one of those good and holy men who go over the country
renouncing the vanities of the world, and setting an example to
others by the terrible penance paid with the soles of their feet.
And when she had paid him reverence to her satisfaction, she bid her
children provide fodder for his mule, for she saw the animal was in
a lather and seriously jaded. "Madam, I am General Roger Potter,
ruler over this nation. Being in pursuit of my army, pray tell me if
you have seen it straying this way;" spoke the general, with
becoming courtesy. But as neither could understand a word the other
said, matters became singularly confused, and to all the general's
questions, the good woman would answer by placing her hands to her
bosom, looking heavenward with appealing sweetness, and whispering:
"Holy virgin!"
"Faith of my mother!" exclaimed the general, as he concealed the
condition of his legs with the priest's gown, "I am not the person
she takes me for-that's certain!" Soon she brought water and washed
his feet, combed and perfumed his beard (which was excessively
dirty), and indeed bestowed so many little kindnesses that his heart
was moved, and he not only shed tears, but said within himself:
"Honestly, it is better to have peace and comfort in a cabin like
this (for the smiles of this good woman seem to have much of heaven
in them), than to rule king over a nation, and live in a palace when
there is no safety against being hanged. Truly, I begin to feel that
my ambition has made me a great fool." In washing his feet, the good
woman discovered the true condition of his raiment, though it was by
the merest accident. The good man, she said within herself, has in
his anxiety to do penance forgotten to arrange his robes. In the
tenderest manner, then, she brought him the breeches and doublet of
her dead husband, for whose soul she beseeched him to pray. The
application of the garments he readily understood; but for the
prayers, the good woman had to accept the will for the deed.
To afford his reverence an opportunity of arranging his clothes, the
good woman proceeded to the garden and filled her basket with
plantain for his breakfast. Much as the general stood in need of
shoes, he sat himself down for a most fortunate gentleman in being
able to procure even such raiment; for, said he, what a figure I
would cut entering Jolliffee on a mule, and in the hat and gown of a
priest. When, therefore, he had breakfasted on plantain and yams, to
which a dish of coffee was added, he returned thanks to the good
woman, and fearing the priests might be in pursuit of him, bid her
an affectionate adieu, mounted his mule, and proceeded on his
journey.
Travelling all day under a burning sun, he found the priest's hat of
great service in protecting his brain, which otherwise would have
dissolved. When night came he was more than six leagues from
Jolliffee, and his mule being much jaded, and himself fatigued, he
drew up by the road-side, in a grove of palms, beneath which a
spring of crystal water gushed forth and rippled away over the
pebbly bottom. The mule having quenched its thirst, the general
seated himself beside the spring; and when he had refreshed himself
on some crusts and water, gave himself up to contemplation. And the
perfect stillness that pervaded the grove (for not a sound was
heard, and even the mule seemed to have an instinctive knowledge of
his master's musings, for he baited cautiously of the young grass)
gave to his revery a melancholy turn. His forlorn condition; the
many sudden and unforseen misfortunes that had come upon him; the
narrow escapes for his life; the many times he had almost dangled at
the limb of a tree; and the unnumbered batterings and bruisings he
had got while displaying his "military valor"-all flashed across his
mind, as if stretched upon a clearly defined panorama, and caused
him to heave a deep sigh. What compensation had he got for all these
sufferings, which were the result of his ambition? And the answer
came to him with the suddenness of lightning-"Ruler over Kalorama,
for a day." "Heaven be with me," he sighed; "for now my poverty is
perfect. And who would envy my fate, here in a desert, without a
friend, and in the raiment of a priest, which if I cast off I shall
look like a clown, which will not do for the man who has ruled a
kingdom. Therefore, I say, seeing that it is good to be an honest
man, that if heaven spare me and get me safely out of this snare, I
will go to my home, and there live so good a man that the neighbors
shall say, Roger Potter is a Christian. Faith of my father, I begin
to have a hate for these rogues of rulers, and would give a dozen
kingdoms of the size of Kalorama to be safe beside my good wife
Polly. And resolved am I to get to her, so heaven favor my
inclinations, and let not death overtake me on the way. As for my
employer, if he still persist in gratifying his love for getting
kingdoms, why, he can get him another general, for there is no lack
of them. Truly, I have had trials enough in his service, and if he
say I have not killed enough of the enemy, I can tell him that the
commander who can boast of his clean sword is your true hero. I
confess, he sent me rascals enough to destroy the morals of a dozen
kingdoms or more; but what matters that when I have not a dollar in
my pocket to buy shoes to my feet; and even the paltry sum he
promised has never seen the way to my pocket. I swear, then, to give
up all these longings, and, though stripped of my coat, get speedily
to my home, comfort my family, and live like a man."
The forlorn general was interrupted in these reveries by a rustling
noise in the bushes. And fearing he might have been discovered by
robbers (for he knew they infested that part of the country), he
drew up his mule and was about to mount and be off. But a female
voice suddenly struck up a song, which rang silvery through the
grove, and in such sweet cadences that the very trees seemed
enchanted. Pausing, the general stood as if bound in admiration,
whilst the priest's gown dropped from his shoulders, unfortunately
leaving him in his doublet and breeches. Looking in the direction of
the music, he espied emerging from a cluster of bushes, and tripping
gaily towards him, two young persons he would have sworn were
lovers, for the man had his arm about the waist of the damsel, a
girl just in the bud of womanhood, who looked lovingly into his
face, as she sang for his entertainment. I may mention that she was
of what novel-writers call medium size, with features exquisitely
regular, eyes ravishingly black, and a deep olive complexion, which
though charms enough for one, were enhanced by tresses of black,
silky hair, that fell down below her waist.
The touching sweetness of the song cheered the general's heart, and
was like a gleam of sunshine lighting up the dark and adverse events
of his life. The singer and her companion suddenly stopped, and as
the thrills of her song died away among the whispering branches,
they stood gazing fixedly at the newly discovered object in the
grove. As the man was not dressed in the garb common to the country,
General Roger Potter resolved within himself not to give way to his
fears, as perhaps he might be a soldier of his retreating army.
While the lovers, on the other hand, were not a little puzzled as to
the true character of the strange figure before them; for while he
wore on his head the hat of a priest, his breeches and doublet were
those of a mountebank. "Heavenly, stranger, if you be not an enemy,
you can render me great service. And as I stand in much need of food
and raiment, draw near that I may commend myself to you ;" spoke the
general. And so perfect was the stillness of the grove that the
words were distinctly echoed to the lovers. Indeed, the man was seen
to express surprise and astonishment. But if he was astonished, the
general stood confounded when he saw his arms fall from the damsel's
waist, and heard the echo of these words, in return: "Heavens! if my
ears do not deceive me, it is our general's voice."
"Aye, I am General Roger Potter, recently ruler over this kingdom,"
returned the general, in a trembling voice, for he was still more
bewildered.
"And yet," rejoined he with the damsel, "it cannot be our general,
for he is dressed in the garb of a clown; and may the devil get me
if I think he would dress in that style, though it were to get him
safe out of the country." Having said this, he was seen to leave the
girl sitting upon the trunk of a tree, and to advance a few paces
towards the figure in the strange dress. He then paused, and after a
searching glance, quickened his pace, and then at the very top of
his speed, ran into the other's arms, crying, "general! general! my
good master, let our meeting here be set down for a miracle, for I
have much need to ask your forgiveness."
"Faith of my father!" exclaimed the general, releasing his hold of
the mule and embracing the stranger, "Tickler, my faithful
secretary! is it you?
"Me, and nobody else!" rejoined the stranger, who was no less a
person than the lost secretary. History affords no record of a
greeting between a great general and his secretary half so
enthusiastic as that which took place on this occasion. Both were
nearly affected to tears; and so anxious were they to relate what
had befallen them since they parted, that it seemed as if they could
not wait another minute. In short, when one began to speak the other
would interrupt, impatient lest he forget something of particular
interest. Like sensible gentlemen, feeling that they were too much
overcome by the meeting, they agreed to postpone the account of
their exploits, and proceed at once to the house of Angelio's
parents; for that was the name of the damsel who accompanied Tickler
through the grove. "It is but half a league from this," said
Tickler, "and as they are poor, but honest people, you will be
welcome under their roof, and get such refreshment as I see you
stand much in need of." Seeing this friendly meeting between her
lover and the stranger, Angelio tripped lightly to where they stood,
and with a smile of childlike innocence lighting up her sweet face,
held out her hand in token of her friendship. And when the general
had acknowledged this with his usual courtesy, she blushed, and
shook her head, and placed her right hand to her heart, which was
her mute but forcible reply, for not a word of the tongue in which
he spoke could she understand.
"And now, general," spoke the critic, "let me lead the mule, and do
you accompany Angelio, for I remember your gallantry." Just as this
was bringing to life all that vanity for which the general has
distinguished himself throughout this history, Mr. Tickler
continued: "But pray, how comes it that your excellency is dressed
in this strange garb?" Suddenly discovering the condition he was in,
he picked up the gown, had it about him in a trice, and was for
offering no end of apologies, which Tickler put an end to by
assuring him, that although Angelio's blushes were all the results
of innocence, she was by no means prudish. And now, having got
himself safely rolled up in the priest's gown, the general gallantly
proceeded with Angelio to her father's house, followed by the
critic, leading the mule. And for what took place when they arrived
at that humble abode, the reader is referred to the next chapter.