the slightest danger, it shall not be myfault that you do not escape from hence."
Luis warmly expressed his thanks to Fre Diogo, for he now felt convincedthat he had gained an invaluable friend, and the dull leaden sensationhe had experienced at the thoughts of his speedy execution, gave way toa renewed hope of life.
"Ah! here comes the gaoler," exclaimed the Friar, as steps were heard inthe passage; "he is a worthy fellow, and the only honest man employed inthe prison. I now and then crack a bottle with him for society'ssake;--thinking of that, I must hide my friend and the glasses under myrobe; so fare you well, Count, till to-morrow." As he spoke the turnkeyopened the door, when Luis, entreating him to introduce the Friar to thesick man in the next cell, he promised to comply, and the Count was leftalone to meditate on his own fortunes.
Volume 3, Chapter XVII.
Words are insufficient to describe the sufferings of the high-borncaptives who lay in those wretched cells, formed to contain wild beastsinstead of human beings, whither the stern policy of the Minister hadcondemned them to be conveyed. Kept apart from each other, in darknessand solitude, though near enough to hear each other's groans and cries,they were allowed no change of garments from those in which they werefirst apprehended; straw heaped in a corner on the floor, unswept sincethe removal of its former savage inhabitants, formed their places ofrest; the coarsest food, sufficient to sustain nature, was alonesupplied them, and no one but the officers of justice was allowed tovisit them.
Day after day they remained thus, in anticipation of their dreadfulfate; then came ferocious looking men, callous to the sufferings oftheir fellow-beings, whose appearance bespoke them to be the detestedexecutioners of the law; even the guards and gaolers shuddered as theybeheld them entering the prison, bearing their implements of torture.Two Desembargadors, a notary, and a surgeon followed, repairing to alarge hall, round which the cells occupied by the prisoners were ranged,their fronts being now blocked up with masonry. The executioners hadhere erected their instruments of torture, chairs being prepared for thejudges and notary, with a table for the latter to take minutes of theexamination.
The first prisoner led forward was the Duke of Aveiro, but he refused toanswer any of the questions put to him.
"Since you refuse to speak in any other way, we must try what effect therack will cause," said one of the judges. "Let the question beadministered to him."
The Duke turned pale, but answered not a word till the dislocation ofhis limbs commenced, when he gave way to shrieks and cries for mercy,which rang through the hall, piercing to the cells of hisfellow-prisoners, and giving dreadful warning of the fate awaiting them.
"I will confess! I will confess!" at last he cried, unable longer toendure the agony; but when, on being cast loose, he again denied anyknowledge of the occurrences the Desembargadors mentioned, he was oncemore placed upon the engine of torture, nor would they listen to hisentreaties to be released till he had further felt its power.
"Mercy, mercy, mercy!" he cried, when the surgeon approached him, andhis cries ceased. He had fainted. He was lifted off the machine, andcarried back to his cell, where restoratives were administered, and hewas left till sufficiently recovered to bear further questioning.
The Marquis of Tavora was then brought forward, and subjected to thesame system of examination; but not a word, to criminate either himselfor others, could be elicited from him. His sons, the Conde d'Atouquia,and the servants of both houses, followed in succession; the agony oftheir sufferings drawing statements from some of them which the othersdenied. Young Joze de Tavora was the only one, who, like his father,boldly and firmly persisted in the declaration of his innocence of thecrime laid to his charge.
"Were I guilty of the deed of which you accuse me, I would acknowledgeit," he exclaimed; "but no tortures the cruelty of Sebastiao Joze caninvent have power to make me speak a falsehood."
"Take him to his cell," thundered the Magistrate; "he is obdurate.Bring back the Duke."
The same scene of horror was again enacted, when the wretched noble,overcome by terror, made a long statement, which was eagerly committedto paper by the Notary, accusing himself, his fellow-prisoners, andnumerous others of the highest nobility in the land, of conspiringagainst the life of the King. Whether his account was true, or whetherit was the invention of his brain wrought into madness by agony, hasnever yet been satisfactorily determined. We leave our readers to formtheir own conclusions.
We do not venture to describe more minutely the dreadful scene oftyranny, injustice, and human suffering; for we have yet in storehorrors sufficient to make the heart of the strongest sicken at therecital; and we would advise those who would avoid having their feelingsharrowed with the tale which truth compels us to narrate, to pass overthe chapter succeeding this.
At last, all the evidence which could be wrung by torture from theprisoners, or obtained from other witnesses, being collected, theirtrial formally took place. On the first day, the judges appointed bythe Minister to preside could not come to an agreement; two of themfirmly refusing to sign the process. Carvalho, probably, firmlybelieved most, if not all, of the prisoners guilty; and, after theviolent steps he had taken, his own existence depended on theircondemnation; but, owing to the absence of clear and satisfactoryevidence, this was difficult to be obtained. He therefore institutedanother court, taking care that the presidents should be creaturesentirely devoted to his service, and the result of the trial may beanticipated.
The weak and timid Monarch yet remained a close prisoner in his palace,suspecting a traitor in each noble of his court, and starting at everysound, fancying it a signal of rebellion. His physician had justquitted him, Teixeira was absent, and the Minister had himself gone towatch the proceedings at the trial of the conspirators. He was alone--his feelings were oppressed, his thoughts gloomy; for his dispositionwas naturally mild, and indisposed to bloodshed; and he now knew thatthe blood of his first nobles was about to flow like water for hissafety. Yet what injustice will not fear make a man commit! He wept.
"Alas!" he cried, "they must die. The trial must, ere this, have beenconcluded, and I shall then know the punishment awarded them. It mustbe so; I cannot feel security till they are no more."
The King heard a suppressed sob near him, and looking round, he beheld ayoung page kneeling at a short distance from where he sat. He started,and rising, retired a few paces, for in every human being he had beentaught to suspect an agent of treason.
"What brings you here, boy? How could you have entered unperceived?" heexclaimed rapidly, as a strange thrill shot across his bosom. "Speak!who are you?"
"A wretched suppliant for your Majesty's clemency," answered the Page,in a low and broken voice.
"What mean you, boy? There are too many such in our dominions,"exclaimed the Monarch, bitterly. "But rise, boy, and retire: thisintrusion ought to have been prevented. Whatever petition you have tomake, present it to our Minister, Sebastiao Joze, two or three dayshence, when he will have time to attend to you. We would be alone."
"Alas! two days hence will be too late," responded the Page, in the samelow tone as before. "It is not to that cruel unbending man I would makemy prayer. It is to your Majesty's compassionate heart alone, amiserable guilty creature would appeal. Hear me, my liege; hear me. Bymy guilty conduct, many of those I was bound to love and honour--mykindred and connexions--have been, like the vilest felons, imprisonedand tortured, and some have, within this hour, been condemned to anagonising death and everlasting disgrace. For them I come to plead--their lives, their honour, are in your power. Spare them, my liege, andlet me be the victim; for I, and I alone, have been the cause of alltheir sufferings."
"Great Heavens! Whose voice is that?" exclaimed the King, more agitatedthan his suppliant, towards whom he hurriedly advanced, and whomhe raised from the ground. "Donna Theresa!"
"Would to God you had never known that name, my liege. I am thatwretched woman," ejaculated the seeming page, still keeping her hands ina su
ppliant attitude before her, while the King gazed fondly at hercare-worn, though yet lovely, countenance. "I have braved all dangersand difficulties,--I have deceived your guards,--I have penetrated toyour Majesty's retirement, to throw myself at your feet, and plead formy kindred's lives. They cannot be guilty of the foul deed for whichthey are condemned;--they never could have sought to injure yourMajesty, though even I have been accused by some (to heap greaterwretchedness on my head) of having falsely accused them of the crime.Your Majesty knows I am thus far guiltless; and, if my injured husband,incited by jealousy and indignation of his wrongs, should have harboureda thought of malice, oh! show your magnanimity, by pardoning him and hisfamily. Disarmed by your clemency, they could not then further injureyou; or let them retire to some other land, where they may