wounded, on the ground!--he would instantly fall a prey tothese savage vermin.
The way to the house where they expected to find Senhor Mendez was long,and, as may, from the above description, be supposed, by no meansagreeable; nor were they able to hold much conversation, from thenecessity both of picking their path, and of keeping on the watchagainst any sudden attack either from man or beast.
"I must warn you," said Captain Pinto, as they approached the house,"that our friend is still suffering from illness: his wounds were moresevere than we suspected, and I much fear his days on earth arenumbered."
There were many questions, much unbarring and drawing of bolts, beforethe people inside the house would open the door to Captain Pinto'ssummons; for the Portuguese will allow a person to run the chance ofbeing murdered, or to stand shivering in a shower of rain, till they canassure themselves of his name and quality, as we have found to our cost.At length an old lady appeared, with a maid-servant behind her, holdinga candle, and, after they had entered, again carefully closed the door.She shook her head, in answer to the captain's inquiries for her guest."He is very bad, very bad, indeed," she said. "I fear he must soon besacramentado, or he will depart without the consolations of religion."
When a person is given over by the doctors, a priest is summoned fromthe nearest church, who comes bearing the holy sacrament under a canopy,accompanied by choristers, and a person ringing a bell, who loudly chantat the door of the room in which the person is dying, or supposed to beso; the very noise and ceremony, however, frequently contributing toextinguish the flickering spark of life. The old lady, desiring Pedroto sit down in the passage to chew the cud of reflection till herreturn, in which he seemed much inclined to draw her young attendant toaid him, led the captain and Luis upstairs, and, opening a door,announced their arrival to her invalid guest.
Senhor Mendez raised himself from his couch, and gazed anxiously atLuis, as he entered. "This is kind of you, though what I expected youwould do, my young friend," he said, faintly, "when you were told of myillness. Words of thanks to you, Captain Pinto, are valueless, whencompared to what I owe you."
Don Luis expressed his sincere regret at finding him yet so far fromrecovered. He smiled faintly as he answered, "I fear it is the nearestapproach I shall make to recovery in this world, yet the great hope ofreviving in a far purer existence sustains my oft drooping spirits; butI fain would tarry longer here, for I have much to do which I would notwillingly leave undone. Captain Pinto is my executor, it may,perchance, be but of a pauper's fortune, and at present I owe everythingto him. He, like the good Samaritan whom the priests tell us of, hassheltered and fed the houseless and poverty-stricken wanderer. Remembermy words, Don Luis, for they are not spoken idly. Truly does he followthe first great rule of charity; and, though it has become a principleof his existence, I am not the less thankful to him."
"Do not speak thus of me, my friend," interrupted the generous sailor."I am but acting towards you as you would have done by me."
Luis, with much hesitation, begged to be allowed to afford his aid, ifpossible.
"I feel confident that you would," returned Senhor Mendez. "But CaptainPinto acts the part of a brother towards me, and what is of nearerkindred? so that I cannot deprive him of the privilege he claims."
Their conversation was long and interesting. The sick man made minuteinquiries respecting the Count d'Almeida, and seemed grieved on hearingthat he would not return to Lisbon. He advised Luis to cultivate thefriendship of the Minister, and spoke with a tone of satisfaction, onhearing that he had offered to befriend him. He warned him not to fallinto the vices of the fidalgos, and to shun their bigotry, andoverbearing, illiberal conduct. Indeed, he showed himself to be aperson far in advance of the generality of his countrymen with regard tohis opinions. He informed Luis, also, that he was in daily expectationof receiving accounts from England of the safety of the fortune he hadtransmitted there from India. The conversation seemed to have revivedhim; and when Luis, having promised again to call on him, quitted himwith the captain, they both felt stronger hopes of his recovery thanwhen they first entered.
Volume 2, Chapter VII.
We must now follow the Count San Vincente, and his gay and thoughtlessfriend, whom the former hurried away from the palace of the Marchionessof Corcunda.
"This conduct of your sister's will drive me mad, Goncalo!" exclaimedthe Count, as soon as they were in the street. "Her coldness I couldhave borne; but to see her receiving, with satisfaction, the addressesof another, is unbearable; but I will punish the youth who has had thetemerity to rival me. Let us follow him; he is, probably, alone; and,armed but with his dress-sword, we can make short work of the affair."
"I do not understand you. I cannot seek a quarrel with Don Luis; for hehas been of infinite service to my father and sister."
"Boyish scruples!" interrupted the Count, fiercely. "Let us set uponhim at once, as men, and punish him for his audacity, in addressing yoursister without your permission."
"Can a friend of mine make such a proposition to me?" exclaimed Goncalo."We must have mistaken each other strangely. I have been wild andcareless, but I have not become a midnight assassin."
"Your pardon,--I was but joking," said the Count. "I thought we mightfall in with this Don Luis, and enjoy a little small-sword play; for Iconfess I have a longing to pink him; but you may stand aloof, and seefair play."
"I have already said, I feel no inclination to force into a quarrel onewho has never offended me: if he seeks it, I shall be ready for him. Imust, therefore, decline accompanying you."
"Well, well, I will give up my point. He is not likely to be successfulwith your sister; so it little matters; though at first I felt annoyed,I confess, at his presumption. Come along with me, for I expect somefriends at supper, who will help us to pass the night gaily; and we maythen sally forth in search of adventures."
They were now near the count's palace; and Goncalo making no oppositionto his proposal, the former led him in, where they found a large partyof dissipated young men awaiting their arrival. The count excusinghimself for a few minutes, left his friend among them, while he repairedto his own chamber; there casting off the gayer part of his costume, hethrew a cloak over his person, and selected a stouter sword than the onehe laid aside, which he concealed beneath it. He then again issued intothe street; and, walking rapidly along a narrow lane, he knocked at thedoor of a low, shabby house, but a short distance from his own princelypalace.
"Who is there?" said a voice. "'Tis late, and all honest people oughtto be in bed."
The Count gave a cant watchword in reply. "'Tis I."
A laugh was the answer; and, the door being unbolted, the dark figure ofthe bravo we described at the inn on the road to Coimbra presenteditself.
"You are welcome, Senhor Conde," said the ruffian, as the count entered,and he bolted the door behind him. "'Tis long since I have had thehonour of seeing your Excellency. Have you any work for me?"
This was said in a low, miserable room, into which the count descended,by two or three steps, directly from the street. The floor was of clay,beaten hard; the walls unplastered, and the roof seeming as if inclinedto fall in from above. There was a recess, with a wretched pallet-bedin it, and another of the same sort was outside. In one corner, an oldwoman was seated on a low stool, cooking some mess, odoriferous ofgarlic, over a small clay stove, lighted with charcoal; but she rosenot, nor gave any sign of intelligence at the appearance of a stranger.The count looked towards her, without answering the question.
"Do not fear her," said the man, observing his doubt; "she is only mymother, and she is so deaf that she cannot hear a word, and so foolishthat she could not understand it if she did. Do you require anything ofme, senhor?" he again asked.
"I should not seek you without a cause," said the Count. "Do you knowDon Luis d'Almeida?--though why do I ask?--you ought to know everygentleman, in case your services are required against them, or by them."
The man looked at him, as much as to say, "My services may be requiredagainst you some day; and I would as willingly plunge my dagger intoyour bosom, but that I should lose an employer. Know him?" heexclaimed. "Curses on him! I know him well, and would--"
Then, recollecting that by showing any personal interest, he might lowerthe value of the service he well knew he was expected to perform, headded, "Yes, senhor, I know his person, I believe. What do you wish tohave done respecting him? Remember, the times are bad; for the Ministerhas apprehended and hung some of my friends lately; so the price of anysuch work as you fidalgos require of us poor men is rising."
"This is work which will give you little trouble, but it must be