Luis; "but I expected to have met you in a dressmore appropriate to your character than the one you wear."
"I am glad to find that you do not forget your old friends, as I was atfirst afraid you were going to do," returned the Friar. "With regard tomy costume, you belie it, to say that it is not suited to the characterof an honest man; for let me assure you, that, doubt it as you may, Ihave turned honest; and where can you find a more honourable dress thanthat of a soldier?"
"Yet, such is surely not suited to your character as a friar," saidLuis.
"Why not? may I not belong to the church militant," returned Fre Lopez."However, to confess the truth, I have my friar's robes carefullywrapped up in my valise behind me, and I intend before long to don themfor ever; for I am growing weary of the fatigues and dangers of the wildlife I have led, and pine for the quiet and security of the cloister.Yet, let me assure you that it was for your sake I assumed my presentdisguise. I heard that you were about to travel this way, and, knowingthat the roads were very far from safe, on account of the number ofthieves who have been frightened out of Lisbon, I thought it my duty toaccompany you, to prevent your suffering from them."
"Many thanks for your attention; but are you not afraid of beingapprehended yourself as a suspicious character? You heard that theMinister has issued an order to the corregidors of all the towns in thesouth, to stop every one who has no pass from him, in case they shouldbe carrying off any property stolen from the city."
"Oh yes, senhor, I heard of the order, and am provided with a pass, ifnecessary; but I should think it would not be asked for in suchworshipful company as yours."
"Then you had some other motive in favouring me with your company?" saidLuis, scarcely refraining from laughing at the man's impudence.
"People generally have more than one motive for their good actions,"returned the Friar. "Now, if I, being a rogue, preserve you from therogues, you, in return, being an honest man, are bound to preserve mefrom the fangs of the law; therefore, the obligation is mutual, and Ihave the satisfaction of performing a good action, and receiving aservice from you besides. Don't think I am the less honest on thataccount. I tell you my motives, whereas another man would keep themsecret, or, at all events, give you only one of them; but I scorn suchhypocrisy."
"You are honest," said Luis.
"You flatter me, senhor," interrupted the Friar. "It is the first time,for many a long year past, that I have been told so; and I willendeavour to merit the good opinion you have formed of me."
"I shall be indeed glad to hear that you have foresworn the verysuspicious companions with whom I have so frequently met you," saidLuis.
"I have already bidden farewell to most of them. There they hang, likefruit on the trees, thanks to the mild clemency of the Minister!" Asthe Friar spoke, he pointed towards Lisbon. "I am glad enough to getbeyond the sight of those ghastly corpses. Ah, senhor! it is a dreadfulthing to hang people up in that way; and many an innocent man is amongthem. Thank Heaven, I have not such deeds on my conscience! Thatreminds me, senhor, that I have gained some information which may assistyou in discovering what you spoke to me about. I was speaking to one ofthose poor fellows the night before he was caught and hung,--and,by-the-bye, he no more deserved hanging than I do!--he told me that hehad been employed, some time ago, in carrying a young fidalgo, who hadbeen wounded in a night-fray, to a house in the outskirts of Lisbon; butthat he could not exactly tell where it was, and who was the person. Hehad been hired by Rodrigo, who did not mention the name of theiremployer. The poor fellow was to have accompanied me the next day totry and find out the house, but he was hung instead. Ah! I am a greatenemy to the system of hanging."
Luis listened with deep interest to this account. Then Goncalo mighthave escaped destruction from the earthquake! He might be yet alive!He longed to turn back, and continue his search; but he had slightgrounds to go upon; for the Friar could give him no further information,and his father was expecting him at home. With sanguine dispositions,the slightest thing is sufficient to raise hopes which, alas! may neverbe accomplished, but which it often takes years and years ofdisappointment to learn to distrust. Now old men, as we have informedour readers we are, even to this day, we find ourselves building castlesin the air, of such bright and glowing colours, that our own sight isdazzled by the splendour of the fabric we have raised, when a singleword has been sufficient to make it fade away like the morning mist,each brilliant hue growing less and less distinct, till we have wonderedthat it could ever have existed even in our imaginations; and at othertimes a rude blow has dashed the lovely edifice to the ground, and as wehave flown to the spot, we have not found a fragment remaining.
The words the Friar had spoken had been sufficient to raise just such afabric in Luis's brain; and, thus occupied, in happier mood he rode on,while the former fell back to converse with Pedro, who was not averse tothe company of so amusing a personage, although a rogue. Several verysuspicious parties either overtook them, or passed them on the road; buta signal, or a few words, from the Friar, always sent them peaceablyaway; so that Luis, during the whole journey, met with no adventureworth relating.
"Farewell, Don Luis!" said the _soi-disant_ Friar, as they came in sightof the gates of the Count's estate. "I have borne you company thus far,and we must now part. We shall meet again some day, I hope; if not,think of me sometimes, as I would be, and not as I have been; but I fearI shall not be a more honest man as a real Friar than I have been as apretended one. Adeos, senhor!"
And, without waiting for an answer, he rode back the way he had come;while Luis, followed by Pedro, hastened to embrace his father, althoughthe tidings he had to communicate must, he knew, cause much sorrow tothe old Count.
Volume 2, Chapter XX.
More than a year had passed since the dreadful earthquake of Lisbon, asthe violent convulsion of the globe in 1755 is commonly called, althoughit was felt over the greater part of Europe, to the north of England,and to the shores of Africa, where many towns were destroyed or severelydamaged. Under the energetic superintendence of the Prime Minister, thecity was rapidly rising from its ashes; and instead of the dark, narrow,and winding lanes of the old town, fine broad streets were planned byable architects invited by him from England and France.
The tents and wooden huts in which the inhabitants had so long dwelt,were ordered to be destroyed, to prevent the rogues and vagabonds, whoit appears had again, notwithstanding the terrors of the hanging system,increased to an alarming degree, from harbouring in them.
The horrors of the previous year began gradually to fade from therecollection of men, and they forgot that beneath the ground on whichthey dwelt burnt those unquenchable fires which might, at any time,burst forth and again destroy their homes and property.
The King and the royal family had taken up their residence in the Palaceof the Necessidades, having dwelt for nearly a year in one built ofwood, of one story high, to run less risk of injury in case of arecurrence of the former disastrous visitation.
It was some hours past the time of sunset, when, in a cabinet of thepalace, the Minister was seated at a table thickly strewed with papers,deeply immersed in the affairs of the state, it might be presumed, fromthe lines of thought and care which marked his brow. He wrote on forsome time, without stopping or hesitating a moment for want of subject,and then, having concluded the work he was about, he threw himself backin the high leathern armchair in which he was sitting, and resting hisbrow upon his hand, continued for many minutes wrapped in meditation.
"Men would blame me, did they know the game I played," he thought; "but'tis the way by which alone I can manage my weak and indolent master:--master!" he muttered, in a scornful tone, "let me say, my slave, mytool! I can brook no master. While he is occupied by some mad folly,or new passion, he will gladly resign all but the empty shadow of powerinto my hands, and it must be my care to keep him thus employed, while Isilence, and for ever, all opposition from without to my aims. Hisinfatuated admiration of this young Mar
chioness of Tavora may lead toserious results: but no matter; I can easily turn them to my advantage;and, at all events, it keeps him occupied. The pursuit is likely to bea long one, for the lady seems colder and more inaccessible than I haddeemed her. Ah! here he comes!"
As he spoke, a door on one side of the room opened, and the Kingentered. The Minister bowed profoundly as the sovereign threw himselflistlessly into a chair, and commenced signing a variety of papers,which the former placed before him, without even glancing at theircontents. At last, with an air of disgust, he threw down the pen androse from his seat, exclaiming, "I can sign no more of your long edictsto-night, my Carvalho. Far more pleasing cares call me elsewhere; and Imust snatch a few hours of liberty while my most jealous lady Queen ispersuaded I am closeted with my faithful