CHAPTER XII.
When Don Amador found himself alone in the prison with Fabueno; with noother prospect before him than that of remaining therein till it mightplease the stars to throw open the doors, the rage that was toophilosophic to quarrel with stone walls, gradually subsided into atranquil indignation. Nay, so much command of himself did he regain,that hearing his companion bewailing his fate in a manner somewhatimmoderate, as if regarding his incarceration as the prelude to a moredismal destiny, he opened his lips to give him comfort.
"I must counsel thee, friend Lorenzo," he said, "to give over this vainand very boyish lamentation, as being entirely unworthy the spirit Ibeheld thee display in presence of that Biscayan boar. The insult andshame of our present imprisonment are what thou dost not share; andtherefore thou shouldst not be grieved on that account. And, doubtless,as thou wert arrested less because thou wert in fault, than because thisfoolish governor was in a passion, he will liberate thee, when he coolsin the morning."
"I have no such hope," said Fabueno, piteously. "Don Panfilo is a mostbitter and unforgiving man, sudden in his wrath, inexorable in hisvengeance; and he has already indulged his fury at the expense of men somuch more elevated and powerful than myself, that I am in great fear hewill give me to some heavy punishment, for daring to oppose hishumours."
"Know, Lorenzo," said the novice, "that, in that opposition, thou didstshow thyself possessed of a spirit which has won my respect; and unlessthou dost already repent thy boldness, I will confess I am very gratefulto thee, that thou didst grasp thy sword in my cause. For which reason,when we are again free, I will beseech the admiral to grant thee thywish, and immediately receive thee into my service, as a pupil in war."
"And how is your worship to be freed?" said Lorenzo, disconsolately."Sure am I, Don Panfilo will no more regard your worship's honour anddignity than he did the privileges of the licentiate Vasques de Ayllon,the agent of the holy monks of San Geronimo, and, what is more, an_oidor_ of the king himself, whom, notwithstanding all these titles, heimprisoned and banished, for thwarting him in a small matter."
"I have, in my own present situation, a sufficient andnever-to-be-forgotten proof of his violence and injustice," said Amador."Nevertheless, I entertain hopes of being soon at freedom; for if somelucky opportunity do not enable me myself to break my bonds, I amassured, the news of this most causeless and tyrannical outrage will, insome way, be carried to the ears of my kinsman, the knight Calavar;after which, I shall be very confident of liberation, and, afterliberation, as I may add, of satisfaction on the body of my wronger.But, before we give ourselves up to despondence, let us see in whatmanner we may be able to help ourselves. We should at least look alittle to the various entrances that seem to lead into this dungeon."
The apartment was spacious, but low; a narrow casement opened on oneside, at the distance of six feet from the floor, and admitted themoonbeams, by which the captives were enabled to conduct theirexamination. The door, through which they had entered, was stronglybarricaded on the outside. A passage leading to the interior, wassimilarly secured, and equally impassable. The neophyte, with a sigh,turned to the casement. A thick grating defended it, and shut out allhopes of escape.
"We can do nothing, unless assisted from without," said Amador.--"Iwould to heaven, I had kept my knaves at my side! With such a waryservant as Baltasar at my back, and so faithful a desperado as Lazaro atmy side, I should have made another sort of departure from that abhorredtower. The varlets are perhaps sleeping in security, without a thoughtof their master. Nay, by my faith, it is not probable they should givethemselves to rest, without being made acquainted with my instructionsfor the night. Perhaps they may be lurking in the neighbourhood, readyto hear my call, and to obey it! At all events, senor secretary, I wouldthou couldst mount to those iron stanchions, and take note of what ispassing on the outside."
"_Iron!_" cried the secretary quickly: "by San Iago of Compostella! athought strikes me. I know well, senor, that in these lands, iron hasalmost the value of gold, and is too scarce to be wasted on the defencesof a temporary dungeon, where it might be stolen too, at the firstopportunity, by the Indians."
"Dost thou mean to say, that these bars are of wood?" demanded Amador.
"Indeed, I think so, senor; and if I had but a knife or dagger, and themeans of climbing into the window, I would warrant to be at libertybefore morning."
"Here is a poniard, of which the villains forgot to divest me," saidAmador. "Strike it against the stanchions:--if they be of wood, we havemuch hope of freeing ourselves."
The secretary did as he was directed. He raised himself a-tiptoe, andthe sharp weapon buried itself in the flimsy barrier.
"If I had but something to stand on," he cried eagerly, "how soon mightwe not be free!"
"There is neither stool nor chair in this vile den," said Don Amador;"but I will not shame to give thee the support of my shoulder, and themore readily, that I think thy slight frame would be incapable ofsupporting my own greater weight.--Pause not," he continued, observingthat Fabueno hesitated: "If thy foot be near my neck, I shall know it isnot the foot of an enemy.--I will kneel to take thee on my back, as theSaracen camel does to his master.--Stretch thyself to thy full height,so as to cut through the tops of the bars; after which, without furthercarving, thou canst easily wrench them from their places."
Fabueno submitted to the will of the novice, and Amador rising withoutmuch effort under his weight, he was soon in a position to operate toadvantage.
"Why dost thou falter?" demanded the novice, as Lorenzo, after makingone or two gashes in the wood, suddenly ceased his labour.
"Senor," replied the secretary, in a low voice, "there is a guard at alittle distance, sitting under the shadow of the pyramid. A cavalierstands in advance, watching--It is the captain Salvatierra!"
"May heaven strike me with pains and death," cried Amador, with anabrupt ardour, that nearly tumbled the secretary from his station, "if Ido not covet the blood of that false and cowardly traitor! who, afterhiding his wrath under the cloak of magnanimity and religion, was thefirst to seize upon me, and that from behind!"
"What is to be done, senor?" demanded Fabueno, in a whisper. "He willdiscover me; and even if I can remove the grating, there will be nopossibility to descend without observation."
"Cut through the wood as silently as thou canst," said Amador; "andthen, when the window is open, I will myself spring to the earth, and sooccupy the dastard's notice, that thou shall escape without peril. Cuton, and fear not."
The secretary obeyed, but had not yet divided a single stake, whensuddenly a noise was heard as of the clattering of armour, as well asthe voice of Salvatierra exclaiming furiously,
"To your bows, ye vagabonds! Quick and hotly! Drive your shafts throughand through! Shoot!"
"Descend!" said Amador.
But before the secretary could follow his counsel, here came fourcross-bow shafts rattling violently into the window; and Fabueno, with aloud cry, sprang, or rather fell, to the floor.
"Have the knaves struck thee?" demanded Amador, as he raised thegroaning youth in his arms.
"Ay, senor!" replied the youth, faintly, "I shall never see the goldenkings of Mexico!"
"Be of better heart," said Amador, leading him to where the moonlightshone brightest on the floor. "Art thou struck in the body?--If thoudiest, be certain I will revenge thee.--Where art thou hurt?"
"I know not," replied Lorenzo, piteously; "but I know I shall die.--Oheaven! this is a pang more bitter than death!--Must I die?"
"Be comforted," said the novice, cheeringly; "the arrow has only piercedthy arm! I will snap it asunder, and withdraw it. Fear not: there is noperil in such hurt; and I will bear witness thou hast won it mosthonourably."
"Will I not die then?" cried Fabueno, with joy. "Pho! it was the firsttime I was ever hurt, and I judged of the wound only by the agony. Pho,indeed! 'tis but a scratch!"
"Thou bearest it valiantly," said Amador, binding his scarf round thewoun
d; "and I have no doubt thou wilt make a worthy soldier.--But whatis now to be done? If thou thinkest thou hast strength to support me fora minute or two, I will clamber to the window myself, and remove thebars, without fear the arrows of these varlets can do me much harmthrough my armour."
"They are not above three-score yards distant," said Fabueno, "and,senor, I feel a little faint. I know not, moreover, how I could escape,even if your honour should be so lucky as to reach the ground."
"I should not have forsaken thee, Lorenzo," said the cavalier, givingover, with a sigh, all hope of escape. "There is nothing more to bedone.--The foul fiend seize the knave that struck thee, and the dastardthat commanded the shot! I would to heaven I had beaten himsoundly.--How feelest thou now? If thou canst sleep, it will be well."
"I have no more pain," said the secretary, "but feel a sort ofexhaustion, which will doubtless be relieved by rest."
"Sleep then," said Amador, "and have a care that thy wounded member benot oppressed by the weight of thy body. I will myself presently followthy example. If aught should occur to disturb thee, even though itshould be but the pain of thy hurt, scruple not to arouse me."
The neophyte watched till persuaded the secretary was asleep; thendevoutly repeating a prayer, he stretched himself on his hard mat withas much tranquillity as if reposing on a goodly bed in his ownmountain-castle, and was soon lost to his troubles.