CHAPTER XXII.
"Meekly had he bowed and prayed, As not disdaining priestly aid; And while before the Prior kneeling, His heart was weaned from earthly feeling: No more reproach, no more despair-- No thought but heaven, no word but prayer."
BYRON.
Time passed slowly on, and no proof appeared to clear Arthur Stanley'sfame. All that man's judgment could counsel, was adopted--secretmeasures were taken throughout Spain, for the apprehension of anyindividual suspected of murder, or even of criminal deeds; constantprayers offered up, that if Arthur Stanley were not the real murderer,proofs of his innocence might be made so evident that not even hisgreatest enemy could doubt any longer; but all seemed of no avail.Week after week passed, and with the exception of one most mysteriousoccurrence, affairs remained the same. So strong was the belief of thenobles in his innocence, that the most strenuous exertions were madein his favor; but, strong as Ferdinand's own wish was to save him, hislove of justice was still stronger; though the testimony of Don Luismight be set aside, calm deliberation on all the evidence againsthim marked it as sufficiently strong to have sentenced any other soaccused at once. The resolute determination to purge their kingdomfrom the black crimes of former years, which both sovereigns felt andunitedly acted upon, urged them to conquer every private wish andfeeling, rather than depart from the line laid down. The usualdispensers of justice, the Santa Hermandad--men chosen by theirbrother citizens for their lucid judgment, clearness of perception,and utter absence of all overplus of chivalrous feeling, in matters ofcool dispassionate reasoning--were unanimous in their belief in theprisoner's guilt, and only acquiesced in the month's reprieve, becauseit was Isabella's wish. Against their verdict what could be broughtforward? In reality nothing but the prisoner's own strongly-attestedinnocence--an attestation most forcible in the minds of the Sovereignand the nobles, but of no weight whatever to men accustomed to weigh,and examine, and cross-examine, and decide on proof, or at least fromanalogy, and never from an attestation, which the greatest criminalsmight as forcibly make. The power and election of these men Ferdinandand Isabella had confirmed. How could they, then, interfere in thepresent case, and shackle the judgment which they had endowed withauthority, dispute and deny the sentence they had previously givenpermission to pronounce? Pardon they might, and restore to life andliberty; but the very act of pronouncing pardon supposed belief in andproclamation of guilt. There was but one thing which could save himand satisfy justice, and that was the sentence of "not guilty." Forthis reason Ferdinand refused every petition for Stanley's reprieve,hoping indeed, spite of all reason, that even at the eleventh hourevidence of his innocence would and must appear.
Stanley himself had no such hope. All his better and higher nature hadbeen called forth by the awful and mysterious death of Morales, dealttoo by his own sword--that sword which, in his wild passions, he hadactually prayed might shed his blood. The film of passion had droppedalike from mental and bodily vision. He beheld his irritated feelingsin their true light, and knew himself in thought a murderer. He wouldhave sacrificed life itself, could he but have recalled the words ofinsult offered to one so noble; not for the danger to himself fromtheir threatening nature, but for the injurious injustice done to theman from whom he had received a hundred acts of little unobtrusivekindnesses, and whom he had once revered as the model of every thingvirtuous and noble--services which Morales had rendered him, feltgratefully perhaps at the time, but forgotten in the absorption ofthought or press of occupation during his sojourn in Sicily, nowrushed back upon him, marking him ingrate as well as dishonored. Allthat had happened he regarded as Divine judgment on an unspoken,unacted, but not the less encouraged sin. The fact that his sword haddone the deed, convinced him that his destruction had been connivedat, as well as that of Morales. A suspicion as to the designer, if notthe actual doer of the deed, had indeed taken possession of him; butit was an idea so wild, so unfounded, that he dared not give it words.
From the idea of death, and such a death, his whole soul indeedrevolted; but to avert it seemed so utterly impossible, that hebent his proud spirit unceasingly to its anticipation; and with thespiritual aid of the good and feeling Father Francis, in some degreesucceeded. It was not the horror of his personal fate alone which badehim so shrink from death. Marie was free once more; nay, had fromthe moment of her dread avowal--made, he intuitively felt, to savehim--become, if possible, dearer, more passionately loved than before.And, oh! how terrible is the anticipation of early death to those thatlove!--the only trial which bids even the most truly spiritual, yetwhile on earth still _human_ heart, forget that if earth is loved andlovely, heaven _must_ be lovelier still.
From Don Felix d'Estaban, his friendly warder, he heard of Isabella'shumane intentions toward her; that her senses had been restored, andshe was, to all appearance, the same in health as she had been sinceher husband's death; only evidently suffering more, which might beeasily accounted for from the changed position in which the knowledgeof her unbelief had placed her with all the members of Isabella'scourt; that the only agitation she had evinced was, when threatenedwith a visit from Father Francis--who, finding nothing in the mansionof Don Ferdinand Morales to confirm the truth of her confession,had declared his conviction that there must be some secret chamberdestined for her especial use. As if shrinking from the interview hedemanded, Marie had said to the Senora, to whose care she had beenintrusted--"He need not seek me to obtain this information. For myhusband's sake alone I concealed the faith in which I glory. LetFather Francis remove a sliding panel beneath the tapestry behindthe couch in my sleeping apartment, and he will find not only all heseeks, but the surest proof of my husband's care and tenderness forme, unbeliever though he might deem me."
The discovery of this secret closet, Don Felix continued, had causedmuch marvel throughout the court. Where Morales had found her, or howhe could have reconciled his conscience not only to make her his wife,but permit her the free exercise of a religion accursed in the sightboth of God and man, under his own roof, were questions impossible tosolve, or reconcile with the character of orthodox Catholicism he hadso long borne. The examination had been conducted with the church'susual secrecy; the volumes of heresy and unbelief (it did not signifythat the word of God was amongst them) burnt; the silver lamps andother ornaments melted down, to enrich, by an image of the virgin, thechurch of St. Francis; the recess itself purified with incense andsprinkled with holy water; the sign of the cross deeply burnt in thewalls; and the panel which formed the secret entrance firmly fastenedup, that its very existence should be forgotten. The matter, however,Don Felix added, was not publicly spoken of, as both the King andQueen, in conjunction with the Sub-Prior, seemed to wish all thathad passed, in which Donna Marie was concerned, should be graduallyforgotten. Don Ferdinand's vast possessions had, in consequence ofhis widow's being an unbeliever, and so having no power to inherit,reverted to the crown; but in case of Marie's conversion, of which DonFelix appeared to entertain little doubt, the greater part would berestored to her. Till then, Marie was kept in strict confinement inthe palace; but all harsher measures Isabella had resolved to avoid.
This intelligence relieved Stanley's mind of one painful dread, whileit unconsciously increased his wish to live. Marie free! a Catholic!what could come between them then? Must she not love him, else whyseek to save him? And then again the mystery darkened round her. Awild suspicion as to the _real reason_ of her having wedded Ferdinand,had flitted across his mind; but the words of Estaban so minutelyrepeated, seemed to banish it entirely; they alluded but to herhusband's forbearing tenderness, felt the more intensely from itsbeing extended by a zealous Catholic to one of a race usually socontemned and hated. In vain he tried to reconcile the seeminginconsistency of her conduct; his thoughts only became the moreconfused and painful, till even the remembrance of her self-devotionlost its power to soothe or to allay them.
When Don Felix again visited his prisoner, his countenance was soexpressive of consternation, that Stanley ha
d scarcely power to askwhat had occurred. Marie had disappeared from the castle so strangelyand mysteriously, that not a trace or clue could be discovered of herpath. Consternation reigned within the palace; the King was full ofwrath at the insult offered to his power; the Queen even more grievedthan angry. The guards stationed without the chamber had declared onoath that no one had passed them; the Senoras Leon and Pas, who sleptin the room adjoining, could tell nothing wherewith to explain themystery. In the first paroxsym of alarm they had declared the nighthad passed as usual; but on cooler reflection they remembered startingfrom their sleep with the impression of a smothered cry, which havingmingled with their dreams, and not being repeated, they had believedmere fancy. And this faint sound was the only sign, the only tracethat her departure was not a voluntary act.
"Father Francis! the arm of the church!" gasped Stanley, as Don Felixpaused in his recital, astonished at the effect of his words on theprisoner, whose very respiration seemed impeded.
"Father Francis has solemnly sworn," he replied, "that neither he norany of his brethren had connived at an act of such especial disrespectto the sovereign power, and of injustice towards the Queen. Torquemadais still absent, or suspicion night rest on him--he is stern enougheven for such a deed; but how could even he have withdrawn her fromthe castle without discovery?"
"Can she not have departed voluntarily?" inquired Stanley, with suddenhope. "The cry you mention may indeed have been but fancy. Is it notlikely that fear as to her fate may have prompted her to seek safetyin flight?"
"Her Grace thinks not, else some clue as to her path must, ere this,have been discovered. Besides, escape was literally impossible withoutthe aid of magic, which however her accursed race know well how touse. The guards must have seen her, had she passed her own thresholdin any human form. The casement was untouched, remaining exactly asthe Senora Leon secured it with her own hand the preceding evening;and, even had she thence descended to the ground, she could have goneno further from the high and guarded walls. It may be magic: if so,and the devil hides himself in so fair a form, the saints preserveus! for we know not in whom next he will be hid." So spoke, gravely,seriously, undoubtingly, a wise and thoughtful Spanish noble, of thefifteenth century; and so then thought the whole European world.Stanley scarcely heard the last words; for in his mind, howeversorcery might be synonymous with _Judaism_ it certainly was not with_Marie_; and he could only realize the fact of the utter impossibilityof a voluntary flight.
"Had the Queen seen her since her trial?" he inquired.
"She had not; a fact which deepens her distress; for she fancies hadMarie been nearer her person, and aware of the full extent of hermerciful intentions, this might have been averted. She believes thatthe smothered cry alluded to was really Donna Marie's; but, ifso, what the dark power is, which has so trampled on the royalprerogative, is plunged in as impenetrable mystery as every thingelse, in which Donna Marie has been concerned."
"Even the same dark power which seeks my destruction, and laid Moraleslow," replied Stanley, more as if thinking aloud than addressing hiscompanion; "and when the clue to one mystery is found, the rest willfollow. Some fiend from hell is at work around us. Morales is gone.Marie has followed, and I shall be the next; and then, perhaps, thedemon's reign will end, and the saints of heaven triumph."
"Would to heaven a Jewess had never come amongst us," was therejoinder; "there is always evil in their train." And the blood rushedto Arthur's cheek, his hand involuntarily clenched, and his eyeglanced defiance towards Don Felix, as if, even at such a moment,insult even in thought towards Marie should not pass unquestioned; buthe restrained himself, and the emotion was unnoticed.
From that day so engrossed were the thoughts of the prisoner withvain speculations as to the fate of Marie, that the fact of his ownposition remaining the same, and his hours of life waning fast, seemedactually unheeded. From Don Felix, in various visits, he heard thatMarie was no longer publicly spoken of; the excitement occasionedalike by her avowal and disappearance was fast fading from theimagination of the populace. The public jousts and festivals, intendedto celebrate the visit of the sovereigns, but which Morales's deathand the events ensuing had so painfully suspended, were recommencing,and men flocked to them, as glad to escape from the mourning andmystery which had held sway so long.
And now only three days intervened ere the expiration of the givenmonth; and each day did the Sub-Prior of St. Francis pass with theprisoner, exhorting, comforting, and strengthening him for the dreadpassage through which it was now too evident his soul must pass toeternity. It was with difficulty and pain, that Stanley could eventhen so cease to think of Marie, as to prepare himself with fittingsobriety and humility for the fate impending; but the warm sympathy ofFather Francis, whose fine feelings had never been blunted by a lifeof rigid seclusion, won him to listen and to join in his prayers, and,gradually weaning his thoughts from their earthly resting, raised themto that heaven which, if he truly repented of sin, the good fatherassured him, was fast opening for him. Under the inviolable seal ofconfession, Arthur acknowledged his deep and long-cherished lovefor Marie, his dislike to her husband, which naturally followed thediscovery of her marriage, and the evil passions thence arising; buthe never wavered in the reiteration of his innocence; adding, that hereproached no man with his death. The sentence was just according tothe appearances against him. Had he himself been amongst his judges,his own sentence would have been the same. Yet still he was innocent;and Father Francis so believed him that, after pronouncing absolutionand blessing, he hastened from the prisoner to the King to implore ayet longer reprieve. But Ferdinand, though more moved by the Prior'srecital than he chose to display, remained firm; he had pledged hiskingly word to the chief of the Santa Hermandad that the award ofjustice should not be waived without proof of innocence, and he couldnot draw back. One chance only he granted, urged to do so by anirresistible impulse, which how often comes we know not wherefore,till the event marks it as the whisper of some guardian angel, who haslooked into the futurity concealed from us. The hour of the executionhad been originally fixed for the sixth hour of the morning; it waspostponed till noon.
The morning dawned, and with its first beams came Father Francis tothe prisoner. He found him calm and resigned: his last thought ofearth was to commend Marie, if ever found, to the holy father's care,conjuring him to deal gently and mercifully with a spirit so broken,and lead her to the sole fountain of peace by kindness, not by wrath;and to tell her how faithfully he had loved her to the last. Muchaffected, Father Francis promised--aye, even to protect, if possible,an unbeliever. And Stanley once mere knelt in prayer, every earthlythought at rest. The last quarter-bell had chimed; and ere it ceased,the step of Don Felix was heard in the passage, followed by theheavy tramp of the guard. The Prior looked eagerly in the noble'scountenance as he entered, hoping even then to read reprieve; but thestern yet sad solemnity on Don Felix's face betrayed the hope wasvain. The hour had indeed come, and Arthur Stanley was led forth todeath!