Margaret Tudor Part 7

He saw the wisdom of it and went away out of sight, while I beat with all my might upon the door.

In a moment steps sounded within, the bars fell, and the door was drawn back. It was the Governor himself who stood there. He looked at me in astonishment as he drew aside for me to pa.s.s.

I attempted no explanation; for I knew he could not understand me.

Doubtless he would tell his lady and she would hold me to account.

Slowly I mounted to the balcony above and pushed open the door of my chamber.

The dame still slept peacefully. I went softly to the window and knelt down. My heart was sick for the faithful lad who had died in defending Mr. Rivers. Poor boy! He had no mother--I wonder if there was a little la.s.s anywhere whom he loved? But no, he was young for that. I think his love was all his master's. And to die for those whom we love best is not so sad a fate as to live for their undoing!

The hot tears ran down my face. I leaned my cheek against the bars and set free my thoughts, which flew, as swift as homing pigeons, to my dear love in his dungeon cell.

Oh! I would that all the prayers I pray, and all the tender thoughts I think of him, had wings in very truth; and that after they had flown heavenward they might bear thence some balm, some essence of divinest pity, to cheer him in his loneliness! If it were so, then there would be in never-ending flight, up from the barred window where I kneel, and downward to the narrow slit in his prison wall, two shining lines of fluttering white wings coming and going all these long nights through!

CHAPTER IX.

Many days have pa.s.sed since I began to write these pages.

All the morning after that terrible night, with Barbara I waited fearfully for some manifestation of Dona Orosia's anger. But there was none, nor were we summoned out that day. Food was brought to us, and we remained like prisoners in our chamber. Don Pedro was very low, the servant told us, and the Governor's lady was nursing him.

A week went by,--the longest week I had ever known,--and then we heard that Melinza would recover. However, it was not until he had lain ill a fortnight that Dona Orosia came to visit me.

I was sitting by the window with my head upon my hand, and Barbara was putting some st.i.tches in the worn places in her gown, when the door opened to admit my hostess.

She came straight toward me with a glint of anger in her dark eyes. The long nights of anxious watching had driven back the blood from her smooth olive cheek, and the red lips showed the redder for her unaccustomed pallor. She laid one hand on my head, tilting it backward.

"You little white-faced fool! I would you had never set foot in this town," she cried bitterly.

"Ah! madame, I came not of my own free will," I answered her. "I and my dear love would willingly go hence, an you gave us the means to do so!"

"'Tis likely that we shall, truly," she replied. "'Tis likely that the Governor of San Augustin will keep a galley to ply up and down the coast for the convenience of you English intruders! There came two more of you this morning, from the friar at Santa Catalina."

"Two more English prisoners!" I exclaimed. "Who are they, madame?"

"I know not, and I care not," she said. "I meddle not with things that do not concern me. I come here now but to hear how you came to be on the streets at midnight. Had I been in the Governor's place then, I would have shut the door in your face."

I told her the truth, as it had happened to me; and when she had heard it her brow lightened somewhat.

"Are you deceiving me? You did not leave here till _after_ the duel had taken place?"

"Madame," I said, "I have never yet told a lie, and I would not now were it to save my life."

Her lip curled slightly as she turned to go. "Stir not from this room, then, until Don Pedro is well enough to leave the house," she said. "If I could prevent it he should never look upon your face again." She paused an instant, then added: "I _will_ prevent it!"

"Amen to that!" I said, and I felt the blood burn warmly in my cheek.

She turned and looked at me, and I met her gaze with defiant eyes.

"Amen to that, madame!--for truly I hate him with all my heart!"

She stood still, a slow crimson rising in her pale face, and I trembled a little at my own daring. Then, to my surprise, she laughed at me.

"You think that you hate him desperately?" she exclaimed. "Silly child, it is not in thy power to hate that man as I do, as I have done for years!" and with that she went away and left me wondering.

CHAPTER X.

July, the 16th day.

Two things have happened recently to break the sad monotony of my life within these walls.

Dona Orosia and Melinza have had a disagreement, which has resulted in his removal hence--at his own demand. Although I know nothing of the cause of their quarrel, Dona Orosia's last words to me, the other day, make it possible to understand the man's reluctance to remain here in her care,--and yet they say it was her nursing that saved his life! I would that I could understand it all!

Since his departure I have had the freedom of the courtyard and garden; and yesterday, by good chance, I had speech with one of the newly arrived English prisoners.

It had been a day of terrible heat, and just at nightfall I wandered out into the garden all alone. There is a high wall to it, which so joins the dwelling that together they form a hollow square. This wall is of soft gray stone; it is of a good thickness, and about a man's height.

Along the top of it sharp spikes are set; and near one corner is a wrought-iron gate of great strength, which is kept securely locked.

It is not often that I venture near this gate, for it looks out upon the street, and I care not to be seen by any Indian or half-breed Spaniard who might go loitering by; but as I stood in the vine-covered arbour in the centre of the garden I heard a man's voice from the direction of the gate, humming a stave of a maritime air that I had heard sung oft and again by the sailors on the sloop, in which some unknown fair one is ardently invited to--

"--be the Captain's lady!"

and I knew it must be a friend. So I made haste thither and peered out into the street.

Sure enough it was old Captain Baulk, and with him a gentleman whose face, even in the twilight, was well known to me,--he being none other than Mr. John Collins of Barbadoes (the same who had given us news of my poor father's end, and one of our fellow pa.s.sengers on the _Three Brothers_).

They both greeted me most kindly and inquired earnestly how I did and if I was well treated. It seems that for days they had been trying to get speech with me, but could find none to deliver a message; so for two nights past they had hung about the gate, hoping that by chance I might come out to them.

Mr. Collins related to me how the sloop had been sent back to Santa Catalina with letters to the friar and the Governor of San Augustin, demanding our release on the ground that as peace was now subsisting between the crowns of England and of Spain, and no act of hostility had been committed by us, our capture was unwarrantable. But Padre Ignacio, with his plausible tongue, had beguiled them ash.o.r.e into his power.

"The man is a very devil for fair words and smooth deceits," declared Mr. Collins. "In spite of all the warnings we had received, some of us landed without first demanding hostages of the Indians; and when we would have departed two of us were forcibly detained on pretence of our lacking proper credentials to prove our honesty. In sooth he charged us with piratical intentions, though we had not so much as cracked a pistol or inveigled one barbarian aboard. The sloop lingered for three days, but finally made off, leaving us in the hands of the padre. He despatched us here in canoes, under a guard of some twenty half-naked savages, with shaven crowns, who are no more converted Christians than the fiends in h.e.l.l!"

I asked, then, for news of my uncle, Dr. Scrivener, and Mr. Collins a.s.sured me that he was most anxious for my safety, and would have come back with them to demand us of the friar, but he had received a hurt in the neck during the attack at Santa Catalina and was in no state to travel, although the wound was healing well--for which G.o.d be thanked!

So far, all the prisoners, except Mr. Rivers, have the freedom of the town; but Captain Baulk declared he would as lief be confined within the fort.

"There be scarce two honest men--saving ourselves--in all San Augustin,"

he said. "The lodging-house where we sleep is crowded with dirty, thieving half-breeds, who would as willingly slit a man's throat as a pig's. Though they hold us as guests against our will, we must e'en pay our own score; and some fine night--you mark me!--we shall find ourselves lacking our purses."

"Then the Governor will be at the cost of our entertainment," said Mr.

Collins.