The Infidel Volume I Part 10

"And wherefore does he this?"

"Faith, in the amiable wish to reconcile some of the jarring elements of his conspiracy; to wit, the Tlascalans and Mexicans; the latter of whom, this night, will, with his good help, show the black-cheeked Xicotencal the advantages to be gained by uniting with his mighty and royal enemy of Mexico, to secure the destruction of my insignificant self. Ha! ha!

Is not the thought absurdly delightful! Ah, Villafana! Villafana! I have no such merry conceited good-fellow as thou!"

La Monjonaza beheld the exultation, and listened to the mirthful laugh of the Conqueror with much interest, and not a little surprise. It did indeed seem extraordinary, that he should be so heartily diverted by the audacity of a villany that aimed at his downfall, and perhaps his life.

But this very merriment indicated how many majestic fathoms he felt himself elevated above the reach of any arts of human malevolence or opposition. It was as if the eagle, flapping his wings among thunder-clouds, shrieked with contempt at schoolboys shooting up birdbolts from the village-green.--It gave a clew to a characteristic which Infeliz was not slow to unravel. A deep sigh from her lips recalled the general from his diversion.

"Thou sighest, Magdalena?" he cried.

"It was for thee," she answered: "I sighed, indeed, to think how much and how truly _thou_, thus elevated by a touch of divinity above the children of men, dost yet resemble this miserable, grovelling, befooled Villafana!"

"What, I? Resemble him? resemble Villafana?"

"Deny it, if thou canst," said the maiden, with rebuking severity; "and if thou canst not, then humble thyself, and confess the base similitude.

Thou differest from him but in this,--that, whereas, in one quality, thou art uplifted miles above his head, thou art, in another, sunk even leagues _below_ him.--Thou frownest? Hast thou discovered that anger adds aught to the state of dignity? Thou dost, this moment, even with the crawling venom of Villafana, with a rage still more abased, seek a life thou hast not courage openly to destroy."

"Santiago!" cried Cortes, in a heat; "by St. Peter, you are over-bitter.

But pho, I will not be angry with thee. Dost thou think me this coward thing?"

"Hast thou not doomed the young man, Juan Lerma, a second time, to death?" cried La Monjonaza, with an eye that trembled not a moment in the gaze of the Captain-General; "and was it not with the embrace of a Judas? Oh, senor!" she continued, firmly, "say not that Villafana is either base or craven. _He_ strikes at the strong man, who sits armed and with his eyes open: but thou, oh _thou_,--thou art content to aim at the breast of the friendless and naked sleeper!--Judge between thyself and Villafana."

It is impossible to express the mingled effects of shame and rage, that disfigured the visage and convulsed the frame of the Captain-General, at this powerful and altogether unexpected rebuke. He smote his brow, he took two or three hasty steps over the floor; when, at last, a thought striking him, he rushed back to the chider, s.n.a.t.c.hed up her hand, and said, with an attempt at laughter, painfully contrasted with his working and even agonized visage,

"Dost thou quarrel with me for fighting thy battles? Oh, by St. James, it is better to draw sword _on_ a friend than _for_ him: ingrat.i.tude always comes of it. Had I thought this of old, I had been a happier man, and thou never hadst mourned the death of Hilario;--no, by'r lady, Hilario had been a living man, and thou happy with him in the island!"

As he hurried over these words, the diversion they gave to his thoughts, enabled him rapidly to recover his self-command, in which, as in affairs of less personal consequence, he always exhibited wonderful power. This accomplished, he continued, with an earnest voice,

"Concealment is now useless: the time waxes, when I must think of other things: let us shrive one another even as two friars, and deceive one another no further than they. Methinks, what I do is for thy especial satisfaction.--An ill loon I am, to do so much for one who so bitterly censures me!--Who thou art, and what thou art, I know not: thou wert an angel, couldst thou give over chiding. The young Hilario del Milagro was the son of mine old friend Antonio:--a very n.o.ble boy,--I remember him well.--By heaven, thy hand is turned to ice! Art thou ill?"

"Do I look so?" said the maiden, with a faint laugh. Her face had of a sudden become very pale, yet she spoke firmly, though not without a visible effort. "I listen to thy confession."

"To mine! By my troth, I am confessing _thy_ sins and sorrows, and not mine. Well, Magdalena," he continued, "thy emotion is not amiss: it is not every maiden can think calmly of the death of her lover, knowing that his slayer is nigh.--I knew Hilario, when a boy,--ay, good faith, and Juan Lerma, too, his playmate and foster-brother, or his young page and varlet, I know not which. It was on Antonio's recommendation, that I afterwards took this foundling knave to my bosom, and made him--no, not what he _is_! for this is a thing of his own making. I sent him to Espanola to recruit: he loitered,--he returned to the house of Milagro--Shall I say more? Hilario, his brother, the son of his best friend and patron, was the betrothed husband of Magdalena; and him did the wolf-cub slay. Wo betide me! for it was I that taught him the use of his weapon.--Is not this enough? Accident hath brought thee to Mexico; thou seest the killer of thy lover; and, like a true daughter of Spain, thy heart is full of vengeance.--Is not this true? Disguise thy wrath in wild sarcasm no longer. Were he the king's son, he should----Pho! recall thy words: Is it not 'just?' is it not 'expedient?'"

To these sinister demands, Magdalena replied with astonishing composure:

"All this is well. Shrive now thyself--Hast _thou_ any cause, personally, to desire his death?"

"Millions!" replied the general, grinding his teeth; "millions, millions! to which the death of Hilario, wringing at thy breast, is but as a gnat-bite to the sting of adders.--Millions, millions!"

"Give him then to death," said Magdalena, with a voice so grave and pa.s.sionless, that it instantly surprised the Conquistador out of his fury; "give him to death,--but let it be in _thy_ name, not _mine_."

"Art thou wholly inexplicable?" he cried. "I read thee by the alphabet of human pa.s.sions, and I make thee not out,--no, not so much as a word.

Thy flesh warms and chills, thine eye swims and flashes, thy brow bends, thy lip curls, thy breast heaves, thy frame trembles; and yet art thou more than mortal, or less. When shall I understand thee?"

"When thou canst look to heaven, and say, 'I have done no wrong'--No, no! not to heaven; for what child of earth can look thitherward, and unveil the actions of life?--When thou canst lay thy hand upon thy bosom, and appealing, not to divine justice, but to that of human reason, say, 'What I do is just:'--in other words, _never_. You are surprised: you bade me repeat my words: I do:--'It is _not_ just, it is _not_ expedient, and Juan Lerma shall _not_ die!'"

"Now by my conscience!" said Cortes, "this is the true dog-star madness!

Wert thou not behind the curtain, and didst thou not shriek at sight of him? Mystery that thou art, unveil thyself--Wherefore tarriest thou in this land, suspected, scorned, degraded, if not to have vengeance on him? Wherefore, I say, wherefore?"

"To _save_ him," replied the lady, boldly,--"to save him from the fury that has brought thee to the level of the Alguazil. Else had I long since returned to the islands. Revoke therefore thy commission, and, in any way thou wilt, so that it carry with it neither secret malice nor open insult, contrive to discharge him from thy service. His life is charmed--it is in my keeping."

"Oho!" said the Captain-General, surveying La Monjonaza with an exulting sneer; "sits the wind in that quarter? And thou art but a woman after all! Now was I but a fool, I trow, not to bethink me how the wife of Uriah forgot the death of her husband, when she saw a path open to the arms of his murderer. Is it so indeed? Thou hast fallen from admiration to pity."

"She who withstands evil thoughts and maligning words, will not weep even at the contempt of commiseration," said Magdalena, with a sigh.

"Villafana has then deceived me,--or rather, poor fool, has deceived himself, as is more natural," said Cortes, with a malicious grin. "Never believe me, but thou shalt rule me in this matter, as in others. Juan Lerma shall thank thee for his life, even for the sake of the Maid of Mexico,--thy brown rival, Zelahualla."

As he spoke thus, he watched closely the effect of his words on Magdalena, and beheld a sudden fire light up in her eyes, succeeded by such paleness as had always covered her visage, when he referred to the death of Hilario. Nevertheless, she did not avert her glance, nor exhibit any other manifestation of feeling, except that she replied not a single word.

"It is the truth that I tell thee," he muttered in a low voice, taking up, as if in compa.s.sion, her hand, which was yielded pa.s.sively, and was again cold and dewy; "she is very lovely,--very,--and a king's daughter.

He fought for her love with Guzman. So, perhaps, he fought Hilario for thine. By my conscience! he makes love over blood-thirstily! When I spoke to him of Zelahualla,--nay, I mentioned not her name; I spoke only of his friends in the palace of Mexico--yet the colour flushed over his cheeks. Nevertheless, thou shalt rule me; thou shalt have time for consideration: the expedition to Tochtepec can be delayed. Dost thou think he would have consented to be mine envoy to Tenocht.i.tlan, but for the hope of seeing his princess? I could tell thee another thing--(there are more rivals than one)--but it matters not,--it matters not! Thou wilt not be content with--pity!--Arouse thee, and speak.--Art thou marble?"

At this moment, and while it seemed indeed that the unhappy Monjonaza, notwithstanding that her countenance was still inexpressively placid, had been turned to stone, the curtain of the great door, or princ.i.p.al entrance, was drawn aside, and the cavalier Don Francisco de Guzman strode hastily into the apartment. The sound of his footsteps, more than the warning gesture of Cortes, recalled her to her senses. She raised her hand to her brow, and the long hood falling over her countenance, she turned to depart through the door by which she had entered. The evening was already closing fast, and the shadowy obscurity of the chamber perhaps concealed her from the eyes of the intruder.

Nevertheless, Cortes perceived, as she glided away, that her step was altered and tottering, and that her hands fumbled for a moment at the door curtain, as if she knew not how to remove it. It yielded, however, at last, and she vanished from his eyes.

"Poor fool," he muttered, with a feeling divided between scorn, anger, and pity, "thou hast discovered to me the broken postern of thy spirit: the walls are strong, but the citadel is in ruins. This is somewhat marvellous,--I will know more of it. It is a new and another thing to be remembered.--Come, amigo: it is over dark here for thy business. We will walk in the open air."

So saying, he took Guzman's arm, and departed from the chamber.

CHAPTER IX.

Some two hours or more after he had been discharged from the presence of the Captain-General, Juan Lerma sat musing in one of the many hundred chambers which composed the vast extent of the palace of Nezahualcojotl, a different being from that the reader beheld him returning from exile.

The coa.r.s.e _tilmaltli_, or native cloak, and the barbarous tunic, had been exchanged for raiment of a better material and fashion, a part of which,--the _bragas_ and _xaqueta_, at least--were from the wardrobe of the general, while modesty, or reluctance to accept any further of such a.s.sistance than was absolutely necessary, had induced him to subst.i.tute for the plain but costly _capa_, or mantle, of velvet, the long surcoat of black cloth, very richly embroidered, which had, as he was told, accompanied the suit of armour, sent by his unknown friend. This valuable and well-timed gift lay upon a platform beside his matted and canopied couch, shining brilliantly in the light which a waxen candle diffused throughout the apartment. He sat upon a native stool, carved of a solid block of wood, and his fine countenance and majestic figure, besides the advantages they received from becoming garments, appeared even of a more elevated beauty, when seen by this solitary ray.

His only companion was the dog Befo, whose s.h.a.ggy coat, yet gleaming with moisture, betrayed that he had shared with the young man his evening bath in the lake. The attachment of this beast was much more natural than remarkable. Five years before, when Juan was but a boy in Santo Domingo, Befo had been his playmate and companion;--had followed him to Cuba, when the youth began to weary of dependence, and long for a life of activity and distinction; and was finally presented by the grateful adventurer to Cortes, as the only gift in his power to bestow; for, at that time, saving his youth, health, and good spirits, Befo made up the sum of his worldly possessions. In the change of masters, however, Befo did not trouble himself to acquiesce; nor did he perceive any necessity, while treating Cortes with all surly good-will and respect, to abate a jot of his love for the hand which had first sustained and caressed him. The dog is the only animal that shows disinclination to be transferred from one master to another. The horse cares not, the ox submits, and man makes no opposition. The dog has a will of his own, and acknowledges no change of servitude, until conscious of a change of affection.

The stirring and hara.s.sing events of the day, though they had exhausted the spirit of the youth, had yet brought with exhaustion that nervous irritableness which drives away slumber from the eyes of the over-weary.

Twice or thrice, Juan had flung himself on the couch to repose, but in vain; and as he now sat questioning himself how far the subst.i.tution of soft mats and robes for a bed of earth, might account for his inability to sleep, he began to revolve in his mind, for the twentieth time, his change of fortunes, and wonder at the inauspicious, and, as it seemed to him, unnatural sadness, which oppressed his spirits.

"I have been restored," he muttered, half aloud,--and, as he spoke, Befo, roused by the accents from the floor, thrust his rough head over his knees, to testify his attention,--"I have been restored to favour, and, in great part, to the friendship of the General.--Thou whinest, Befo! I would I could read the heart of a man as clearly as thine.--Yet has he not distinguished me with a high command,--a captain's? I trow, it is not every one who can so soon step into this dignity, especially when without the recommendation of birth, as Alvarado hinted.--I will show this proud cavalier, that G.o.d does not confine all merit to hidalgos' sons. If he give me but a capable force--Twenty foot and six horse?--'tis but a weak array for a field where eighty men have perished. Yet I care not: if I have but Xicotencal to back me, with some two or three _xiquipils_[9] of his Tlascalans, it will be enough. If I fall,--perhaps _that_ will be better: I am too faint-hearted for these wars. Villafana says, that he brands the prisoners too, and sells them for slaves. This is surely unjust--He was another man at Cuba."

[Footnote 9: _Xiquipil_--a military division of natives, consisting of eight thousand men.]

At this moment, the dog raised his head and growled, and Juan heard steps approaching through the long pa.s.sage, that ran by his door. Here they stopped, and Befo continuing to give utterance to his displeasure, the voice of Villafana whispered through the curtain,

"Put thy hand on the beast's neck, or box him o' the ears--He is no friend of mine."

"Enter," said Juan, "if thou art seeking me. He will do thee no harm."

"Ay, marry," said Villafana, coming in; "for at the worst, and when other things fail, I will stop him with my dudgeon, be he Cortes's, thine, or any one's else. It stirs my choler to be growled at by so base a thing as a dog."

"Put up thy weapon, nevertheless," said Juan, observing that Villafana had a poniard in his hand; "thou seest, the dog is quiet. In this he pays me the compliment of supposing I can protect myself. What is thy will with me, Villafana?"

"First," said the Alguazil, with a laugh, "to give thee my congratulations touching thy sudden rise from the abyss, and thy meditated flight heaven-ward. And, secondly," he continued, when Juan had nodded his thanks, "to ask, in the way of friendship, from how high a cliff thou canst tumble headlong, without danger of breaking thy neck?"