Page 15 of The Prime Minister

no, I wrong her, I foully wrong her! Iwrong her gentle sex itself to suppose it possible. I see how it hasbeen--I have, during my absence, been maligned; my character has beentraduced, she has been taught to consider me false and faithless; awretch unworthy of a thought; but I will discover the slanderer, andthough I follow him through the world, I will punish him for hisbaseness. Speak, Theresa, speak! say it is so, and relieve my heartfrom the overpowering weight which is sinking it to despair; for thenmay I quickly clear my fame, and regain the priceless jewel I havelost!"

  What woman's heart could withstand such an appeal? not Donna Theresa's,surely. Indeed, it would have been more fortunate for herself and herfamily had it been of a less tender nature. She appeared moved, as,with a slight falter in her voice, scarcely perceptible to any but alover's ears, she exclaimed, "On no one, but on my own head, rests theblame; and on me let your anger fall. I have wronged you, Luis; I wouldhave spared you this, but the time is passed for reparation, and myactions are not in my own power; yet we are no longer children, that Ishould mourn for the past, or that you should do aught unbecoming a man.Pardon me, Luis, for my heartless treatment; but I will no longertamper with your generous feelings: my hand is pledged to another!"

  Don Luis started as if an electric shock had struck him. "All isfinished, then," he exclaimed, "and my fondly-cherished hopes areblasted! I will not reproach you, lady--I will not question youfurther. May he who has gained your hand not find that he also isbetrayed." He stopped, and gazed a moment at her countenance. "Oh!pardon, pardon me for such words," he cried: "no, I will not, even in mythoughts, condemn you. For your sake I would have died; and, with mylife, I will still protect you against all who may wrong you. Theresa,you know not what agony you have caused."

  "Spare me, Luis, spare me," exclaimed his cousin. "I have told you thatI have no longer power over my own destinies, and therefore words arethrown away. It were better for both that this interview should end;and, when we next meet, let us forget the past. Farewell."

  Don Luis started at that word, casting one long earnest gaze at her,full of reproach and grief, which he could not repress. "Farewell,Theresa; may the happiness I do not expect to find be your lot!" hecried, in a voice broken with agitation, and rushed from the apartment.

  Donna Theresa stood for a minute motionless, gazing in the direction heryoung cousin had gone, while bitterly did her conscience condemn her;but she was too proud, too firm in her resolve, to allow it to conquer.For good or for evil her course was taken, and she had determined noughtshould deter her from following it; yet the intensity of her feelingsalmost overcame her, and it was some time before she could recoverherself, as she stood at the open window eagerly inhaling the fresh air,till the return of her attendants. They had judiciously kept away; for,it must be known, that in no part of the civilised world are Abigailsmore discreet than in Portugal; and, when they saw a handsome youngcavalier rushing up stairs, whom most of them remembered as theplaymate, and latterly the ardent admirer of their mistress, judgingfrom their own feelings on such an occasion, they naturally concludedthe cousins would wish for a short time, to enjoy, uninterrupted, eachother's society. With most commendable consideration, therefore, theylingered on their return; or, at all events, did not approach nearerthan the keyhole of some of the doors leading into the apartment, wherethey became highly-interested spectators of the drama enacting within;so that Don Luis gained, unawares, several warm advocates in his cause;for all joined in deprecating their mistress's cruel treatment of sohandsome a cavalier, each one feeling that she could not have found itin her heart to be so obdurate.

  Volume 1, Chapter V.

  It has just occurred to us, that our readers will begin to suppose wedesign to make Don Luis d'Almeida our hero; but we must disclaimintending to introduce any such character; though, were we writing aromance, instead of compiling a history of the times of the greatMarquis, he might, very properly, be considered in that light; indeed,we take great interest in his fate, for we cannot help sympathising withthe sorrows of one, whom the blind archer has treated so cruelly; and wetherefore omit many incidents mentioned in the voluminous manuscriptsbefore us, in order to describe his proceedings, which, retrograding alittle, we will now relate, from the time he landed with Captain Pintofrom the corvette. His first impulse was to hasten to the palace of hisfather, the Conde d'Almeida; both longing to throw himself at the feetof a parent he revered, and knowing that he should there learn whereDonna Theresa was residing. In his first hope he was disappointed; for,on entering his father's hall, a solemn silence reigned around, andeverything wore a deserted and melancholy air. Instead of thegrey-headed porter, and the group of liveried menials, water-carriers,idlers, and beggars, the maimed, and the blind, who usually throng theentrance of every noble's house in Lisbon, his feet aroused three orfour hideous specimens of the canine race, who had thought fit to makeit their abode during the heat of the day, till they should sally forthat night to join their brethren, and enact the part of scavengers to thecity.

  Pedro's loud vociferations, after sundry interrogations from some oneabove to inquire their business at the palace, at length brought down anold domestic, who no sooner caught sight of the person he thought was astranger, than, in his agitation, letting his keys drop on the stonepavement, he rushed forward, with outstretched arms, to fold his youngmaster in an embrace which lasted some minutes, now tapping him on oneside, now on the other; but Don Luis took it as a matter of course,returning it with equal cordiality, till Pedro came in for a slightershare of the old man's welcomes. He was next obliged to go through thesame ceremony with an old lady, whom the chirrupping voice of the oldmajor domo called down. Her grey locks were partly concealed by a neatwhite handkerchief, fastened over her head, while another covered hershoulders, below which appeared a gown of a staid, sombre colour, alarge black rosary and crucifix hanging down to her waist. To his eagerinquiries for the Count, his father, he could for some time elicit noother answer than various broken exclamations.

  "Oh, holy Virgin! oh, Jesu Maria! these are bad times, dangerous times,"and they looked round cautiously to see that no one was within hearing."There is now one in Portugal who is each day becoming a greaterfavourite of our lord the king, and who can do anything in the country,who rules the holy Church, who rules the people, and who seeks to rulethe fidalgos also. Oh, he's a great man, doubtless, but he's much to befeared. Well, senhor, it was only the other day that your father'sfriend, Senhor Alfonzo Botelho, was arrested, we know not on whataccount, and thrown into prison, and when the Senhor Conde, your father,was exerting himself to the utmost for his liberation, and applied toSenhor Sebastiao Joze de Carvalho, the privy counsellor to the king, itwas hinted to him that he might share the same fate if he interfered."

  "What say you?" exclaimed Don Luis. "Have any dared to throw myhonoured father into prison?"

  "Heaven deliver us from a like calamity," answered the old couple. "Ohno, senhor, it is not so bad as that; but when the Senhor Conde camehome, he ordered his carriage and his horses, and the escudeiro, and theother servants to be prepared, and set off the next day for the Quinta."

  "This is indeed bad news you give me," answered Don Luis. "And I musthasten away to-morrow to join my father: I have therefore no time tolose in Lisbon. First, can you tell me if my fair cousin, Donna Theresad'Alorna, is residing in the city, or is she in the country?"

  "Oh, senhor, the Senhora Donna Theresa is at present at the house of themarquis, her father; but, alas! she is much changed from what she was;for she never comes here now to spend the day; though, to be sure, shehas more to occupy her than formerly, for it is said she has become agreat favourite of the queen, and is constantly at Court; and that isnot a good place for young ladies, who are much better-employed stayingat home, and learning to work and to embroider."

  "The dissipations of a Court will have no power to alter Donna Theresa'sheart," exclaimed the lover. "But now, my good Lucas and Senhora Anna,I must hasten away, though I will s
oon return; for I have much to learnand much to tell you."

  "But you cannot think, senhor, of leaving the house without takingsomething to eat," exclaimed the old lady: "you would die of hunger, andyou always used to have a very good appetite."

  "All, senhor, do stay," added old Lucas, "and we will soon cook you upsomething to please you."

  "I am not hungry, I assure you, my good friends," answered Don Luis;"and I cannot remain, but I will leave Pedro to recount all the wondershe has seen, and the dangers he has escaped;" saying which, he hurriedoff in the fond hope of finding his mistress fair and loving as ever.How grievously he was disappointed we have seen; and he then rememberedCaptain Pinto's