Margaret Tudor Part 9

Presently, with the blare of trumpets and the deep rolling of the drums, the King's troops came in sight, three hundred strong.

At the head of the little band, which marched afoot, rode Melinza and the Governor. 'Twas the first time I had seen a horse in the town.

Old Senor de Colis was mounted on a handsome bay that pranced and curvetted beneath him, to his most evident discomfort; but Melinza's seat was superb. It was a dappled gray he rode, with flowing mane and tail of silvery white; a crimson rosette was fastened to its crimped forelock, and the long saddle-cloth was richly embroidered.

As the little company swept round the square, the two hors.e.m.e.n saluted our pavilion. Don Pedro lifted his plumed hat high, and I saw that his face was pale from his recent wound, but the bold black eyes were as bright as ever they had been before.

I drew back hastily from the front of the pavilion and made no pretence of returning his salute. Then, for the first time since I had taken my seat beside her, Dona Orosia spoke to me.

"Why such scant courtesy?" she asked, with lifted brows.

"Madame," I answered, "had my betrothed been here at my side, an honoured guest, I would have had more graciousness at my command."

"What!" she exclaimed, "have you not yet had time to forget your quarrelsome cavalier?"

"I will forget him, madame, when I cease to remember the treachery of those who called themselves his entertainers."

She flushed angrily. "Your tongue has more of spirit than your face. I wonder that you have the courage to say this to me."

"I dare, because I have nothing more to lose, madame!"

"Say you so? Would you rather I gave you into Melinza's keeping?"

"Nay!" I cried, "you could not--such unfaith would surpa.s.s the limits of even Spanish treachery! And you would not--it would please you better _if he never set eyes upon my face again_! I only wonder that you should have brought me here to-day!"

She opened her lips to speak; but the blare of the trumpets drowned the words, and she turned away from me.

The troops were drawn in line across the square: on the right, the Spanish regulars of the garrison; on the left, the militia companies, which had come up while we were speaking. These last were made up, for the most part, of mulattoes and half-breed Indians,--a swarthy-faced, ill-looking band that appeared fitter for savage warfare of stealth and ambuscade and poisoned arrows than for valorous exploits and honest sword-play.

The various man[oe]uvres of the troops, under the skilled leadership of Don Pedro, occupied our attention for upward of an hour, during all which time my companion appeared quite unconscious of my presence. She sat motionless save for the swaying of her fan. Only once did her face express aught but fixed attention--and that was when a sudden fanfare of the trumpets caused the Governor's horse to plunge, and the old man lurched forward on the pommel of his saddle, his plumed hat slipping down over his eyes.

For an instant the swaying fan was still; a low laugh sounded in my ear, and, turning, I saw the red lips of the Governor's lady take on a very scornful curve.

She received him graciously enough, however, when--the review being over--he dismounted and joined us in the pavilion.

Melinza had retired with the troops; but just as the last rank disappeared from view he came galloping back at full speed, flung himself from the saddle, and, throwing the reins to an attendant, mounted the pavilion stair.

I felt that Dona Orosia's eyes were upon me, and I believed that she liked me none the less for my hostility to the man. It may have been this that gave me courage--I do not know--I think I would not have touched his hand in any case.

He flushed deeply when I put both of mine behind my back; then, with the utmost effrontery, he leaned forward and plucked away one little black rosette that had fallen loose from my curls and was slipping down upon my shoulder. This he raised to his lips with a laugh, and then fastened upon his breast.

I was deeply angered, and I cast about for some means of retaliation that would show him the scorn I held him in.

At the foot of the pavilion stood the youth who was holding Melinza's horse.

I leaned over the railing, and, loosing quickly from my hair the fellow to the rosette Don Pedro wore, I tossed it to the lad below, saying, in almost the only Spanish words I knew,--

"It is a gift!"

Melinza's face grew white with anger; he tore off the bit of riband and ground it under his heel; then he strode down the stair, mounted his horse, and rode away.

The Governor's lady watched him till he was out of sight; then, with a strange smile, she said to me,--

"I never knew before that blue eyes had so much of fire in them. I think, my little saint, 'tis time I sent you back to your old duenna."

"I would thank you for so much grace!" was my reply. And back to Barbara I was despatched forthwith.

But though I have been some hours in my chamber, my indignation has not cooled. The very sight of that man's countenance is more than I can endure!

I am resolved that I will never set foot outside my door when there is any chance of my encountering him, and so I shall inform the Governor's wife when she returns....

She laughs at me! She declares I shall do whatever is her pleasure! And what is my puny strength to hers? With all the will in the world to resist her, I am as wax in her hands!

CHAPTER XIII.

The first day of March.

For six months I have added nothing to this record; though time and again I have taken up my pen to write, and then laid it by, with no mark upon the fresh page. Can heartache be written down in words? Can loneliness and longing,--the desolation of one who has no human creature on whom to lavish love and care,--the dull misery that is known only to those whose best beloved are suffering the worst woes of this woeful life,--can all these be told? Ah, no! one can only feel them--bear them--and be crushed by them.

If it had not been for the good old dame, I know not what would have become of me. Many a day and many a night I have clung to her for hours, weeping--crying aloud, "I cannot bear it! I cannot!" What choice had I but to bear it? And tears cannot flow forever; the calm of utter weariness succeeds.

'Tis not that I have been ill treated. I am well housed, and daintily clothed and fed. Unless Melinza--or some other guest--is present, I sit at the Governor's own table. His wife makes of me something between a companion and a plaything: one moment I have to bear with her capricious kindness; the next, I am teased or driven away from her with as little courtesy as she shows to the n.o.ble hound that follows her like her own shadow.

Until lately I have seen little of Melinza. Early in the winter he went away to the Habana and remained absent two months, during which time I had more peace of mind than I have known since first we came here. But since his return he has tried in various ways to force himself into my presence; and Dona Orosia,--who could so easily shield me if she chose,--before she comes to my relief, permits him to annoy me until I am roused to the point of pa.s.sionate repulse. One could almost think she loves to see me suffer--unless it is the sight of his discomfiture that affords her such satisfaction.

But all of this I could endure if only my dear love were free! I have heard that he is ill. It may not be true,--G.o.d grant that it is not!

Still, though the rumour came to me by devious ways, and through old Barbara's lips at last (and she is ever p.r.o.ne to think the worst), it is more than possible! I, myself, have suffered somewhat from this long confinement; and in how much worse case is he!

I have tried to occupy myself, that I may keep my thoughts from dwelling forever on our unhappy state. In the past six months I have so far mastered the Spanish tongue that now I can converse in it with more ease than in the French. The Governor declares that I have the true intonation; and even Dona Orosia admits that I have shown some apt.i.tude.

I care nothing for it as a mere accomplishment; but I hope that the knowledge may be of use if ever we attempt escape. (Though what chance of escape is there when Mr. Rivers is within stone walls and I have no means of even holding converse with Mr. Collins?)

I have one other accomplishment that has won me more favour with the Governor's wife than aught else. She discovered, one day, that I have some skill with the lute, and a voice not lacking in sweetness; and now she will have me sing to her by the hour until my throat is weary and I have to plead for rest.

I had, recently, a conversation with her that has haunted me every hour since; for it showed me a side of her nature that I had not seen before, and that leads me to think that under her caprice and petulance there is a deep purpose hidden.

I had exhausted my list of songs, and as she still demanded more I bethought me of a curious old ballad I had heard many years ago. The air eluded me for some while; but my fingers, straying over the strings, fell suddenly into the plaintive melody; with it, the words too came back to me.

I bade my love fareweel, wi' tears; He bade fareweel to me.

"How sall I pa.s.s the lang, lang years?"

"I maun be gane," quo' he.

The tear-draps frae mine een did rin Like water frae a spring; But while I grat, my love gaed in To feast and reveling!

The tear-draps frae mine een did start Salt as the briny tide: Sae sair my grief, sae fu' my heart, I wept a river wide.