CHAPTER XXVI.

  "The outmost crowd have heard a sound, Like horse's hoof on harden'd ground; Nearer it came, and yet more near-- The very deathsmen pause to hear!"

  SIR WALTER SCOTT.

  In his private closet, far removed from the excitement stirringwithout, King Ferdinand was sitting, on the morning appointed forStanley's execution: several maps and plans were before him, overwhich he appeared intently engaged; but every now and then his browrested on his hand, and his eyes wandered from their object; Isabellawas at work in a recess of the window near him, conversing on hiswarlike plans, and entering warmly into all his measures, as he rousedhimself to speak of them, or silent when she saw him sunk in thought.The history of the period dwells with admiration on the domestichappiness of Ferdinand and Isabella, and most refreshingly do suchannals stand forth amid the rude and stormy scenes, both in public andprivate life, most usual to that age. Isabella's real influence onthe far less lofty and more crafty Ferdinand was so silent, sounobtrusive, that its extent was never known, either to himself orto her people, till after her death, when in Ferdinand's rapiddeterioration from the nobler qualities of earlier years, it wastraced too clearly, and occasioned her loss to be mourned, yet morethan at the moment of her death.

  The hour of noon chimed, and Ferdinand, with unusual emotion, pushedthe papers from him.

  "There goes the knell of as brave and true a heart as ever beat," hesaid. "If he be innocent--as I believe him--may Heaven forgive hismurderer! Hark! what is that?" he continued hurriedly, as the lastchime ceased to vibrate; and, striding to the door of his cabinet heflung it open and listened intently.

  "Some one seeks the King! follow me, Isabel. By St. Francis, we maysave him yet!" he exclaimed, and rapidly threading the numerouspassages, in less than a minute he stood within the hall.

  "Who wills speech of Ferdinand?" he demanded. "Let him step forth atonce and do his errand."

  "I seek thee, King of Spain!" was the instant answer, and a young ladin the white garb of a Benedictine novice, staggered forwards. "ArthurStanley is innocent! The real murderer is discovered; he lies at thepoint of death sixty miles hence. Send--take his confession; butdo not wait for that. Fly, or it is too late. I see it--the axe israised--is flashing in the sun; oh, stop it ere it falls!" And withthe wild effort to loose the grasp of an old soldier, who moresupported than detained him, his exhausted strength gave way, and theylaid him, white, stiff, and speechless, on a settle near.

  With his first word, however, Ferdinand had turned to a trustysoldier, and bade him "fly to stop the work of death;" and the manneeded not a second bidding: he darted from the hall, flew through thecastle-yard, repeated the words to the first individual he met, bywhom it was repeated to another, and by him again on and on till itreached the crowds around the scaffold; where it spread like wildfirefrom mouth to mouth, reaching the ear of Don Felix, even before hiseye caught the rapidly advancing soldier, whom he recognized at onceas one of his Sovereign's private guards; impelling him, with analmost instinctive movement, to catch the upraised arm of theexecutioner at the very instant he was about to strike.

  "Wherefore this delay, Don Felix? it is but a cruel mercy," sternlyinquired the Chief Hermano, whose office had led him also to thescaffold.

  "Behold, and listen: praised be the holy saints, he is saved!" wasthe rapid reply, as the voice of the soldier close by the foot ofthe scaffold, was distinguished bidding them "Hold! hold! the Kingcommands it. He is innocent; the real murderer is discovered!" andthen followed a shout, so loud, so exulting, that it seemed to haveburst from those assembled hundreds at the same instant. The prisonerheard it, indeed; but to his bewildered senses--taking the place asit did of the expected blow--it was so utterly meaningless that heneither moved nor spoke; and even Don Felix's friendly voice charginghim--"Up, Stanley! up, man! thou art saved--thine innocence madeknown!" failed to convince him of the truth. He rose from his knees;but his limbs shook, and his face--which had changed neither hue norexpression when he had knelt for the fatal blow--was colorless asmarble. He laid his trembling hand on Father Francis's arm, and triedto speak, but he could not utter a sound.

  "'Tis true, my beloved son: thy sinful thoughts have been sufficientlychastised; and the mercy of Heaven publicly revealed. Our prayershave not been said in vain; thine innocence is known--the guilty onediscovered!"

  To doubt these solemn accents was impossible, and though the effortwas mighty to prevent it, Nature would have sway, and Stanley laid hishead on the Prior's arm, and burst into tears. And the wild shout thatagain awoke, seemed to clarion forth a thrilling denial to the chargeof weakness, which on such openly demonstrated emotion, some heartsdead to the voice of Nature might have pronounced.

  King Ferdinand had not been idle while this exciting scene wasenacting; questioning briefly but distinctly the villager who hadaccompanied the novice; the latter still remaining in a state ofexhaustion precluding all inquiries from him. Perez, however, couldonly repeat the lad's words when informed that the execution of SenorStanley was to take place that day. Father Ambrose had merely told himthat he (Perez) had rendered a most important service to more than oneindividual by his compassionate care of the dying man, whose desire tocommunicate with the King was no idle raving. He had also chargedhim to take particular care of the young novice, who was ailing andweakly; that the emergency of the present case alone had compelled himto send the lad to Segovia, as his dress and ability, might gain him aquicker admission to the King or Queen, than the rude appearance anduncouth dialect of his companion. The father had also requested him tourge the officers, whom the King might send to take the dying man'sconfession, to travel at their utmost speed, for he thought death wasapproaching fast.

  With his usual rapidity of thought and decision, Ferdinand's orderswere given and so quickly obeyed, that even before the arrival of theSub-Prior and Don Felix with the released prisoner, a band of men,headed by Don Alonzo and two of the chief officers of the SantaHermandad, had already started for the village. The King stillretained Perez, not only to reward him liberally, but that his talemight be repeated to the proper authorities, and compared with that ofthe novice, as soon as he had sufficiently recovered to give it. Theentrance of Stanley effectually prevented his giving more than apitying glance towards the poor boy, who had been raised on one of thebenches, surrounded by the soldiers, who were doing all their rudekindness suggested to revive him.

  Isabella had followed her husband to the hall, and been a quiet butpenetrative observer of all that followed. She had started as thevoice of the novice met her ear, and made a few hasty steps forward;but then checked herself, and quietly watched the proceedings of thesoldiers. Perceiving how wholly ineffectual their efforts appeared,she advanced towards them. With the most reverential affection themen made way for her. They had been so accustomed to see her on thebattle-field, tending the wounded and the dying, soothing theiranguish and removing their cares, ay, and more than once doing thesame kindly office in their rude and lowly homes, that her appearanceand gentle tending of the boy, excited no surprise whatever. Shemotioned them all back, apparently to allow a free current of air--inreality, to prevent them from adopting her own suspicions; she did notremove the somewhat unusually tightly-secured hood; but for her, oneglance on that white and chiselled face was sufficient. Her skillwas at length successful, and with the first symptom of returninganimation, she left him to the soldiers, and joined the throng aroundthe King; but her eye, which from long use, appeared literally endowedwith power to take in every desired object, however separated, at oneglance, still watched him as he painfully endeavored to rise, andthrew one searching glance towards the principal group. His eyesrested a full minute on the prisoner, with an expression whichIsabella alone, perhaps, of all in that hall, could read. A momentarycrimson flushed his cheek, and then his face was bowed in hisspread hands, and his slight frame shook, with the fervor of thethanksgiving, which his whole soul outpoured.

  Perceiving that the lad had rec
overed his senses, Perez referred allthe eager questioners to him, feeling so bewildered at the marvelloustransformation of himself, in his own opinion, from, an ignorantrustic, who had never seen the interior of a town, to the permittedcompanion of his sovereign and his nobles, and even of Isabella, andhe received from her lips a few words of kindly commendation, thatit was almost an effort to speak; and he longed to rush back to hisvillage and astound them all, and still more, triumph over his friend,the hostellerie-keeper, who, lord it as he might, had never been sohonored.

  "Come hither, boy," said Ferdinand kindly; and the novice slowly andwith evident reluctance obeyed. "We could almost wish thy tastes hadpointed elsewhere than the church, that our acknowledgments of thyexertions in our service might be more substantial than mere thanks;however, thy patron saint shall not want a grateful offering. Nay, ourpresence is surely not so terrible that thou shouldst tremble thus,poor child! Hast thou aught more to communicate?--aught for ourprivate ear, or that of her Highness our consort? If not, we will notexhaust thy little strength by useless questions."

  In a tone so low and faltering, that Ferdinand was obliged to benddown his head to hear, the novice replied, that if messengers had beendespatched to the village, his errand was sufficiently accomplished.Father Ambrose had merely charged him to say that the real murdererhad himself confessed his crime, and that the sin had been incited,by such a horrible train of secret guilt, that all particulars weredeferred till they could be imparted to the authorities of justice,and by them to the sovereigns themselves. For himself he only askedpermission to return to the village with Perez, and rejoin hisguardian, Father Ambrose, as soon as his Grace would please to dismisshim.

  "Thou must not--shalt not--return without my poor thanks, my youngpreserver," exclaimed Stanley, with emotion. "Had it not been forexertions which have well nigh exhausted thee, exertions as gratuitousas noble--for what am I to thee?--my honor might have been savedindeed, but my life would have paid a felon's forfeit. Would that Icould serve thee--thou shouldst not find me ungrateful! Give me thinehand, at least, as pledge that shouldst thou ever need me--if not forthyself, for others--thou wilt seek me without scruple."

  The boy laid his hand on Stanley's without hesitation, but withoutspeaking; he merely raised his heavy eyes a moment to his face, andvainly did Stanley endeavor to account for the thrill which shotthrough his heart so suddenly as almost to take away his breath, as hefelt the soft touch of that little hand and met that momentary glance.

  Who has not felt the extraordinary power of a tone--a look--a touch?which,

  "Touching th' electric chain, wherewith we are darkly bound,"

  fills the heart and mind with irresistible impulses, engrossingthoughts, and startling memories, all defined and united, and yetlasting for so brief a moment that we are scarcely able to realizetheir existence ere they are gone--and so completely, that we perplexourselves again and again with the vain effort to recall their subjector their meaning. And so it was with Stanley. The thrill passed andhe could not even trace its origin or flitting thought; he only saw aBenedictine novice before him; he only felt regret that there was noapparent means with which he could evince his gratitude.

  On Father Francis offering to take charge of the boy, till hisstrength was sufficiently renovated to permit his safe return to thevillage, Isabella spoke, for the first time:--

  "Reverend Father! We will ourselves take charge of this poor child.There are some questions we would fain inquire, ere we can permit hisreturn to his guardian: if satisfactorily answered, a munificentgift to his patron saint shall demonstrate, how deeply we feel theexertions he has made; and if we can serve him better than merelyallowing his return to his monastery, trust me we shall not fail.Follow me, youth!" she continued, as the Sub-Prior and the King,though surprised at her words, acquiesced. The novice shrunk backand clung to the side of Perez, as if most unwilling to comply; butneither the command, nor the look, with which it was enforced could bedisobeyed, and slowly and falteringly he followed Isabella from thehall.