placed within my reach. He remained not amoment longer than was necessary, nor did I venture to trust myself inspeaking to him. I heard him lock and bolt the door after him, as heretired. The old woman never returned; and for the two following days Iwas left entirely alone.
"During the third night, I was aroused from slumber by a noise near me,and, looking up, by the light of a lantern I beheld several men standinground my bed; a cloth was then thrown over my head, my arms were bound,and I felt myself lifted up, and placed upon a sort of litter, as Iconcluded, for immediately I perceived that I was being borne along at arapid rate, and in the open air. I was too feeble to raise my voice;but once, when I attempted to cry out, a person whispered in my ear awarning to be silent, or that death would be my fate. The motioncontinued for some time, till at last it stopped, and I found myselfagain placed upon a bed. My arms were then released, but, before Icould remove the cloth from my head, my bearers had disappeared, and Ifound myself in total darkness and silence. Here was new matter forspeculation, but I was still utterly at a loss to comprehend the reasonsfor my removal, or whither I had been conveyed; indeed, I have neverlearnt to a certainty, though I suspect it was to some house belongingto my persecutor, San Vincente. When the morning dawned, I found that Iwas in an apartment rather better furnished than my last place ofimprisonment, but with only one small window, high up in the wall, andthat closely barred with iron. A surly-looking ruffian made hisappearance twice a day to bring me food and make my bed, but, like theold woman, he never uttered a word. He, however, brought me acollection of books, which solaced my captivity, and I verily believeprevented me from losing my senses altogether. Several months thuspassed away, and I was at length able to rise and walk about my room.The first use I made of my renewed strength was to try the door, but Ifound it secured by bolts, and plated with iron. I then climbed up tothe window, but the walls were thick, and a board sloping upwards fromthe lower part prevented me seeing aught but a broad expanse of sky.This was a grievous disappointment; indeed, my spirits sank under it,though my strength continued to improve. When my surly attendantperceived that I was strong enough to attempt to, escape, I observedthat he invariably came into my room armed with a pistol and dagger,keeping a wary eye, during the time he remained, on every movement Imade. This dreadful life of solitude I could no longer endure; myhealth gave way under it, and I again took to my bed. I entreated theruffian to send a physician to me, or a priest, to give me theconsolations of religion, but he looked at me with a grim smile, withoutanswering, and no one appeared. Gradually I became worse and worse,till I fully believed myself to be dying, so thought also my attendant.One night I awoke from my sleep to find my eyes blinded, and my handsbound as before, when I was brought thither. I was then gagged, while avoice whispered in my ear, `If one sound escapes you, this dagger shallsilence you for ever!' and, at the same time, I felt its sharp point atmy breast. I was now lifted up, and found myself suddenly placed in acarriage, which immediately drove on for a considerable time; when itstopped, I was once more lifted from it, and borne along till I heardthe sound of bolts and bars withdrawn, when I was placed on the bedwhere I now lie, and from which I never more expect to rise. Here Ihave for months been confined, and it seems a miracle to myself that Ihave existed so long. Except the compassionate gaoler's, yours is thefirst friendly face I have seen since you last beheld me with my swordraised against your life. Pardon me, my friend, for that deed, for Ihave bitterly expiated it."
Luis assured the unfortunate youth not only of his forgiveness, but ofhis sincere commiseration for his sufferings.
"Soon after my arrival here, I gained a clue to ascertain the reason ofmy last removal," continued Goncalo. "The Governor of the prison cameone evening into my cell, and no sooner did my eye fall upon him, than Irecognised a person on whom I had once inflicted chastisement for aninsult he had offered me, and whom I well knew to have been at one timean intimate acquaintance of San Vincente's, though he had latterlypretended to have discarded him. I knew why he came--it was to gloatover my sufferings--to reap his revenge. He is a wretch capable of anyatrocity--base, mercenary, and avaricious. He told me that I was aprisoner for life, accused of treason; that my name was Diogo Lopez, andthat I was spared under the plea of insanity. He then quitted me with agrin of gratified malice on his countenance. I feel confident that theplot was concerted between the two. San Vincente has easily bribed himto engage in it, and gratify his own revenge at the same time; heprobably feared that I should die in his custody, when he might havesome difficulty in disposing of my body; or, perhaps, he was anxious todestroy me sooner, which he knew sending me here would do. Onceincarcerated under a false name, as a condemned criminal, I should hereremain without a hope of release, all responsibility being removed fromhim; and dying, as he knew I soon must, I shall be buried with the otherwretches who end their lives here. This is my allotted fate, and, hadyou not discovered me, it would never have been known. You will, Iknow, inform my father, and aid him to bring the miscreant San Vincenteto the punishment he deserves."
Luis promised to obey his wishes, if he himself ever escaped fromprison.
"I have one more request to make," said Goncalo: "I long, ere I die, toperform the last duties of religion, but I have, in vain, asked for aconfessor. The Governor knows I have nothing to reveal. You may inthis assist me, by desiring to see one yourself, and you may then, inthe same way that you have come, conduct him hither."
"I will use my utmost endeavours to do so," answered Luis, "though Ifear much I shall be unsuccessful."
Goncalo now made many inquiries about his family, to which Luis answeredto the best of his knowledge; and when he told him that Clara was aboutto take the veil, his self-reproach knew no bounds.
"Alas, alas!" he exclaimed, "this has happened through my own madobstinacy: had I not praised San Vincente to my father, she might evennow have been your bride, and both might have been happy."
"Heaven willed it otherwise," said Luis, checking his rising emotion,when he endeavoured to console his unhappy friend; and so far succeeded,that he already appeared to have recovered strength--his spirits, morethan his body, had suffered. The gaoler, now softly opening the door,beckoned away Luis, who, pressing Goncalo's hand, returned to his owncell, reflecting, that if he himself had suffered much, others had yetmore to endure.
The following day the Governor thought fit to honour the Count d'Almeidawith a visit. He entered, bowing and flourishing his littlethree-cornered hat, as usual, smirking as he seated himself on the bed."I fear that you find your life in prison a very dull one, my youngfriend," he began; "most people do, yet such is the fate of those whowill disobey the laws. In the course of a year or two you will becomemore habituated to it, and then you will learn to like it, if--for I amsorry to say there is an alternative--you are not proved guilty of acrime of the first magnitude;--but, in the latter case, you must preparefor death! Ah, you start;--it is very sad to die, but, I wished tospare your feelings, and therefore concealed your fate from you tillnow; however, feeling a sincere friendship for you, I would point outthe only means you have of escaping. Make a complete confession of allyou know, and then, probably, a short imprisonment will be your onlypunishment."
Luis watched the Governor's eye while he spoke, and although he did notbelieve his assertions, he felt that they might too probably be foundedon truth. Not disconcerted, however, by unmanly fears, he, recollectinghis promise to Goncalo, pretended to credit them; and, on the plea that,perhaps, his death was near, he petitioned to have the consolation ofreligion afforded him.
"I rejoice, my young friend, to hear you speak in so proper a frame ofmind," said the Governor, sententiously. "Even to the prisoner's cellthe Church extends her benign influence, and Heaven will be pleased ifyou confess your sins to the holy man I will send you. He shall visityou this very day, and, putting full confidence in him, let me adviseyou, as a sincere friend, to follow implicitly his counsels." TheGovernor, flattering himself that he h
ad gained the very point at whichhe was aiming, bidding his prisoner be of good cheer, withdrew.
The Governor was in this case true to his word; late in the evening thefriendly gaoler entering Luis's cell to inform him that a Friar waitedwithout to see him.
"Beg him to enter," said Luis.
The gaoler retired, and directly after returned, ushering in a cowledand bare-footed Friar.
"Pax vobiscum," said the holy man, as he entered. "I come, my son, tobring food and comfort to your soul. Leave us," he added, turning tothe gaoler, "I would be alone with the prisoner."
No sooner had the gaoler withdrawn, than the Friar, throwing back hishood, exhibited to the astonished gaze of his intended penitent, therotund and ruddy countenance of the holy Fre Diogo Lopez.
"Hush!" said that worthy person, putting his finger to his lips. "I amsorry to find you a prisoner here, though I am glad that it is I whohave been sent to you. Come, give me an embrace, to convince me thatyou retain a kindly recollection of me."
Luis, scarcely able to speak with surprise, performed the ceremony;indeed, the face of one who, though he considered him a rogue, hadalways shown a friendly disposition towards himself, could not butafford him pleasure.
"Now, we will make ourselves as happy as circumstances will permit,"continued the Friar, at the same time producing from beneath his gown agood sized flask, and a couple of glasses, which he placed on the table,a smile curling his lips, and his eyes glistening the while. "Standthere, my friends, till you are wanted," he added, as he seated himselfon the bed. "Now, Don Luis, I wish to convince you that, although youonce thought me a rogue, I can, at all events, be honest towards you. Iam sent here to pump you, to discover all your secrets, and to betraythem to the Governor. Now, take my advice; do not tell them to me, orany other confessor; and as there are no proofs against you, as far as Ican learn, you have a chance of escaping the punishment many others areabout to suffer. This plan will prevent either of us incurring anyrisk, and I shall feel a wonderful satisfaction in deceiving thatcunning devil of a Governor. Ha, ha! the very thought amuses me. Ilittle thought that you were among the unfortunate prisoners shut up inthis horrid place, till the Governor sent for me to-day, and informed methat one of his pets desired to see a priest, in order to makeconfession, desiring me to learn all I could, and let him know withoutdelay. I have done so often before, without feeling any compunction onthe subject; for there are so many knaves in the world, that Iconsidered it as merely telling one rogue's secrets to another rogue,besides being well paid into the bargain. I do not wish to know yours,in case I might be tempted to betray them. With me the old weakness isas strong as ever. I cannot resist temptation, though I bitterly repentit afterwards. I, by chance, inquired the name of my penitent, when, tomy surprise and sorrow, I learnt it was you. However, I soon made up mymind how to act, and, providing myself with that flask of good wine, Idetermined to make a jovial evening of it with a clear conscience,instead of hypocritically drawing the secrets from some poor wretch, tobetray him afterwards. So now, my dear Don Luis, or rather I ought tosay Count, let us to business. I can give you a short shriftafterwards, if you require it, when we have finished the bottle."
So saying, the Friar drew the table between himself and Luis, andfilling both glasses with wine, he nodded familiarly to his penitent,draining his off, and smacking his lips, to set him an example. He thenindulged in a low quiet chuckle at the young Count's astonishment.
Luis first felt inclined to be disgusted with the Friar's openacknowledgment of his contempt for the sacred office he performed; butthe imperturbable coolness and thorough good nature of the latter, atlast conquered that feeling, and, forgetting that he had come to performa religious rite, he could no longer refrain from pledging him inreturn.
"Well, my dear Count, I am glad to find that you have at lengthconquered your scruples," said Fre Diogo, laughing. "I have always saidit is impossible to know what a man really is till you learn his works.Now, if I had put on a sanctimonious face, played shriver, and betrayedyou, you would have considered me a very pious man; and now, because Itell you the truth, and kick hypocrisy to the devil who invented it,you, in your heart of hearts, believe me a knave. Well, it cannot behelped, such is the way of the world. Come, Count, don't be cast down,you have many years to enjoy life yet before you, if I mistake not.Fill your glass, and drive away care. I wish I could venture to sing astave, it would wonderfully rouse your spirits, but it would not do tobe heard--even I could not pass it off as a hymn." And the Friar hummeda few lines of a song in a low tone. "Bah! the effect is spoilt; youought to hear it trolled forth by a jovial set of us, the roof of theold hall of our convent rings again. Oh, that would do your heartgood!"
Luis, in spite of himself, could not help joining in the Friar'smerriment, which seemed to give the latter much satisfaction. "That isas it should be, my friend; I wish the gaolers were deaf, and that therascally Governor was not likely to be prowling this way, for we mightdrink and sing away to our heart's content. Come, help me to finish thebottle, or I shall not be quite in a clerical state to make a clearreport to the Governor of your confession."
There was such a laughing devil in the Friar's eye all the time, that itstruck Luis he might even then be playing off some trick upon him.
"How comes it, Fre Diogo, that I see you here in Lisbon as a professedFriar, when, the last time we met, you acknowledged you had never takenthe vows?" he asked.
"Don't you remember, that I told you, at the same time, I intended torepent of my sins, to return to the convent in which I once served, andto take the vows? I did so, and have ever since been a most exemplaryFriar; so much so, that I soon rose to a responsible situation in myconvent, and was sent up to Lisbon on a mission, when I was selected formy peculiar qualifications and knowledge of mankind, as confessor to theinmates of this and some other prisons in the metropolis. I was obligedto accept the office, though I cannot say I like it; for I miss myjovial brothers, and hate the hypocrisy and treachery I am obliged to beguilty of, though, to say the truth, I have saved many a poor wretchfrom committing himself, which is some consolation to my conscience."
Luis had not forgotten poor Goncalo's request; but he was considering inhis mind whether the priest in question was a person qualified toadminister the consolations of religion to a dying man; but there was asincerity in the eccentric Friar's manner, which at last determined him,for want of a better, to confide in him. At all events, he felt that itmight afford satisfaction to the dying youth. He, therefore, told theFriar of his interview with his fellow-prisoner, the young GoncaloChristovao, whom he had been accused of killing, recalling to his mindtheir fruitless search, and finished, by begging him to administer, withthe utmost decorum he could assume, the rites of the Church appointedfor the sick or dying.
"You seem by your words, to suppose that I am not as capable as the mostrigid and sanctimonious confessor, who ever shrived a fair penitent, toput on a serious air when necessary," said the Friar, laughing. "Thereyou are wrong again; and I will show you that I can equal the best ofthem. By the way, now you mention the name of Goncalo Christovao, itreminds me that, in a most wonderful way, I came into possession of thevery letter I gave you with the jewels in the cave, and which you lostbefore you could deliver it to the person to whom it was directed,--thefather of this same hapless youth. You will not press me to explainexactly how I got it--suffice it to say, I found it in the pocket of acoat which, doubtless, had been yours, and which I strongly suspect hadbeen stolen."
"Have you the letter still?" inquired Luis, eagerly. "I have ever sincehad cause to regret its loss; for, though I know its contents, I havehad a feeling that it might have saved much wretchedness to one I lovedearer than life itself."
"It struck me, also, at the time I found it, that it might be of someconsequence, so I preserved it carefully for several months in mybreviary, intending to restore it to you or Senhor Christovao, should Imeet either of you, though I had long forgot al
l about it; whether or noit is still there, I cannot say," said the Friar. "I fortunatelybrought the book to Lisbon with me, so if the letter is in it, I willbring it to you on my next visit. I shall take care, by my account tothe Governor of your confession, to be sent to you again."
"Thanks, my kind friend," answered Luis. "You may thus render me agreat service, though, could you send it to Goncalo Christovao yourself,it would sooner reach him. I know not when my term of captivity mayend."
"I will endeavour to do as you wish," answered the Friar. "Now, my dearCount, I am speaking more seriously to you than I ever did to any one inmy life. I have a true regard for you, and sincerely wish to rise inyour opinion. Do not think me a scoundrel, for I am better than I havetoo often appeared. Will you promise me this?" The Friar spoke withenergy, and a tear stood in his eye, as he took Luis's hand, and pressedit to his heart.
"I firmly trust in you," answered Luis, "and know you to be my kind andgenerous friend,--one of the few I now possess on earth."
"Thanks, Count, thanks! your words have made me a happier and betterman," said the Friar, much moved. "The knowledge that I am esteemed byone honest person, who knows me as I am, will prevent me from ever againacting the part of a knave." He drew a deep sigh. "Ha! ha! we must notlet care oppress us, so we will finish our bottle before the turnkeycomes to summon me away. I will then visit your sick friend, and dowhat I can to comfort him. Remember, whatever happens, confide in me.If I find that your life is in