CHAPTER XIV.
Si! m'ingannai: scerner dovea, che in petto Di un traditor mai solo un tradimento Non entra.
_Alfieri._
Le cruel, helas! il me quitte, Il me laisse sans nul appui!
_Berquin._
"In the name of Heaven, Don Lope," said Roque; "let me again conjure youto pause before you finally resolve upon this undertaking: my heartmisgives me strangely."
"Thy heart," replied Gomez Arias, "is a most impertinent monitor. Simpleman! what other course is left me to pursue?--Is it thy wish that Ishould relinquish the most glorious prize, at the very moment of itsattainment, from a pusillanimous fear of consequences? Already so faradvanced, must I shrink from an honorable alliance with Leonor? Byheaven! I cannot; I will not. Prudence, consistency, honor, forbid!
"But, saving your displeasure," interposed Roque, "methinks that samehonor of which you appear so tenacious, cannot urge you to betray anunfortunate girl into the hands of infidel Moors. And although yourpresent situation is certainly fraught with difficulties, there may yetbe found some other way of proceeding with regard to Theodora, notaltogether so frightful."
"No, Roque, none. We have now no longer time to think; we must act, andact without wasting a single precious moment.--Go, dispatch, deliverthis letter to Theodora, and conduct her to the place that I havealready pointed out. The night is fast advancing; dispatch; and befaithful in the discharge of my orders. This step is unavoidable, and toits necessity even thou thyself wilt be reconciled, though at present itmay awaken in thy bosom a foolish sentiment of pity, or fear, I know notwhich."
Roque attempted no farther expostulation, but heaving a sigh, andcasting his eyes to heaven, proceeded to the discharge of hiscommission, whilst his master hurried to the solitary spot where he haddecided they should meet. Roque, in that wavering mood so natural to hischaracter, alike unfit for good or evil, made his way to Don Alonso'sgarden, deliberating within himself on the course he ought to follow.Pity and remorse, at intervals, made him shrink with dismay from thepicture of wretchedness which the unfortunate Theodora presented to hisview. There was something so iniquitous and unmanly in betraying theunsuspecting and lovely victim, that the feelings of the valet, thoughfar from being refined, revolted from the participation: once or twicehe had even resolved to acquaint Theodora with the premeditated plot,but these momentary impulses of his better feelings were soon checkedfor want of strength to follow up the generous suggestion. The awe withwhich Roque beheld his master, and the dread of the results which hisdisclosure might produce in the mind of the victim, powerfullycontributed to silence the voice of conscience. Then he hoped that themarriage once over, measures might be taken for the security and comfortof Theodora; and finally he fondly admitted the hope, or rather forcedhis rebellious mind to encourage it, that Gomez Arias would relent atthe sight of the unhappy girl, and that he would then fix upon someother expedient less distressing and criminal.
In this conflict, he arrived at the palace, and entering by a privategate into the garden, he approached the window of Theodora's apartment.The anxious girl, who had been all the day on the alert, immediatelydescended, and stood by the side of Roque.
"Where is he?" she eagerly cried, upon meeting the valet.
"Prudence," replied Roque, "has obliged him, much against hisinclination, to keep aloof; but here is a letter which will explain hismotives, and the course that you are immediately to adopt."
Theodora ran over the contents of the letter in a trepidation ofanxiety, and closed the perusal of it by imprinting the fervent kissesof love and devotion on the vile instrument of treachery.
"Let us make haste," she then said, and without waiting for Roque tolead the way, she hurried through the garden upon the wings ofaffection. The valet's heart misgave him, when he beheld her speedingwith such haste to her destruction. He contrasted the devoted confidenceof Theodora, hurrying to the fatal spot, with the duplicity andheartlessness of Gomez Arias tranquilly awaiting her arrival. Roque ledher towards the place appointed; nor could he suppress a tear, as helistened to the artless language in which her full heart indulged duringthe way, in the fond expectation of being again united to her lover, andobtaining the forgiveness of her beloved parent. They arrived at lengthat the place. It was a beautiful night, unsullied by a breath of wind.The eager eyes of Theodora were strained to catch as soon as possible asight of the dear object of her solicitude. She perceived at the furtherextremity a man enveloped in a cloak, and standing beside three horses.She gazed intensely; her bosom throbbed with emotion,--forward shehurried--she flew; and in a moment, with all the enthusiasm of her fondnature, threw herself into the arms of her lover.
Gomez Arias received the tender pressure with feelings hard to bedefined. Distracted with conflicting passions, he appeared unable to actthe part which he had judged necessary in this critical moment, whilethe loving Theodora, despite of her infatuation, could not but observethe coldness and restraint evident in his manner.
"What ails you, Lope?" she said, soothingly "are you not happy?"
"Happy! yes, Theodora, I am happy; but be not astonished at mydisquietude: for alas! in my distracting situation I can feel nootherwise; the step which I am about to take----"
"Oh! I am sensible!" cried Theodora, earnestly, "of the extent of thesacrifice; I know the glorious prospects you relinquish by renouncingthe hand of Leonor. Yes, I am indeed, aware of all the distressingcircumstances that may ensue from the resolution you have taken. But,oh, Lope! will not the unutterable love, the fervid devotion of yourpoor Theodora, afford you some requital for the advantages which yourhonor obliges you to abandon?"
She looked fondly in his countenance. A tear stood trembling upon hereye, but in her lover's she beheld no sign of mutual tenderness. Hecoldly assisted her to mount, and bidding Roque follow, for some timethey continued their route in silence. Theodora, however, in thegentleness of her nature, was disposed to deceive herself, and withouthesitation attributed her lover's strange behaviour to the difficultsituation in which he was placed. Nor could she feel hurt when sheconsidered that it was for her sake that Gomez Arias exhibited thisdisquietude. She had secured the most important object of her life, andwas not so selfish or unfeeling as to reproach him with a conduct whichshe hoped would soon be changed. But the arguments of reason are notalways in accordance with the suggestions of feeling. Her mindcommanded her to be satisfied, but her heart, in acquiescing with thosedictates, was not entirely at ease, though she sedulously endeavoured toconceal her emotion from Gomez Arias. Her efforts, however, were notalways successful, and the deep sighs that escaped her bosom, naturallyattracted the notice of her lover. He, therefore, artfully strove, bybestowing some passing tokens of affection, to reassure the victim hewas leading to the sacrifice. But the art of man, though it may succeedin imitating the various passions which agitate the human breast, israrely successful when he attempts to feign the more tender sentimentsof the heart; for cold must always be the language addressed to one, whohas been the object of a fervid passion, when that passion is unhappilyextinct. No powers of art--not all the force of imagination can callinto life fresh flowers on the barren waste of a heart that no longerloves.
As they approached _El cerro de los Martires_ Theodora suddenly began tosob aloud, and Gomez Arias foresaw the dreadful scene he should have tosustain before he could finally disengage himself from the sorrowinggirl.
"Theodora, why do you weep?" he asked in a tender tone.
"Alas! I know not," she answered. "But my heart is heavy--I feel asthough some misfortune were impending. Whither are we going?--surelythis is not the road to my father's mansion? Lope! Lope! whither are youleading me?" she inquired, in a thrilling voice of distress.
Steeled as it was against compassion, the heart of Gomez Arias feltmoved at the question. Roque was exceedingly affected, and a groanescaped him as he piously ejaculated--"Heaven protect her!"
Theodora h
eard the exclamation; for nothing that bodes ill can evade theacute sense of misery.
"Thank you, good Roque," she said, mournfully. "But why call on theprotection of heaven? My own Lope, are we in danger?"
Gomez Arias did not answer; for a feeling akin to remorse arose withinhim, as he thought on the treacherous duplicity he was about to practiceagainst one whose very existence seemed to depend upon his love. Theyhad now crossed _El cerro de los Martires_, and were ascending a littleslope, when suddenly three or four persons sprung from theirconcealment, and checked their further advance. The moon shonebrilliantly, so that every object could be plainly distinguished, andTheodora saw with dismay the forms that were moving towards them, as ifwith the express determination of intercepting their passage.
"They are Moors!" she exclaimed. "Oh, heavens! what can they want inthis solitary place at the dead of night? Surely they must be some ofthose desperate people, who have been left houseless and forlorn in thelate rebellion. Alas! they will retaliate on us all the horrors whichthey have suffered. My dear Lope, if we must die, it will be at leastsome consolation to meet death with thee."
She looked earnestly on her lover, but could trace no emotion in hisfeatures; they were composed. The present feelings of Gomez Ariaspartook of no alarm, and the unfortunate Theodora felt a fearfulpresentiment, as she perceived the unmoved expression of hiscountenance; for though the bravery of her lover might not allow him todread the approach of death, for his own sake, yet, surely, her owndanger ought to create in his mind some sensation of anxiety. In thisfrightful agony of thought, Theodora remained until they came up withthe individuals who had awakened her fears. One of them now detachedhimself from the group, and advanced to address Gomez Arias, who hadchecked his horse to await his coming. What was the horror of Theodorawhen she recognized in the person that stood before them, the dreadedform of the renegade! She uttered a faint scream; and had not GomezArias prevented her, she would have fallen to the ground.
"So, Don Lope," said the renegade, "you have kept your word: I couldexpect no less from the noble Gomez Arias."
"And who are thy companions?" inquired Don Lope.
"There stands," replied Bermudo, pointing to Caneri, "the illustriousMoor of whom I spoke--so the sooner we proceed to our arrangements, thebetter."
The mutual understanding which appeared to subsist between Gomez Ariasand the renegade, and the heartless manner in which the last words weredelivered, left not a doubt in the mind of Theodora, that sometreacherous design was in contemplation. Her fears were soon confirmed;for Gomez Arias, turning to her, in a tone of pity, began----
"Theodora, I will not attempt to palliate the conduct which necessityobliges me to pursue; but the circumstances in which I am placed admitof no alternative. We must part for ever--nor can I for a moment prolonga scene, which must be so distressing to your feelings. It consoles me,however, to think that I can place you in the care of those who havepledged themselves to treat you with every consideration."
Saying this, he threw himself from his horse, and found no difficulty inbearing to the ground the yielding form of Theodora. She could notspeak; amazement had absorbed all the powers of her mind, and benumbedthe principle of will and action. She stood wildly gazing on vacancy,like one conscious of labouring under a dreadful dream, and striving toawake from the painful illusion. But when Caneri advanced, when sheactually saw his hated figure standing before her with a smile ofexulting joy, she seemed suddenly to regain all her powers ofrecollection.
"'Tis he!" she cried franticly, "'tis he. Oh! horror!"--She ran wildlytowards her lover.
"Oh, Lope, deliver me from him."
"No, young lady," returned the Moor, "you must now come with me."
"Oh, heaven!" she shrieked, "no, no, he cannot--he will not thus abandonme!--Oh, Lope!--my dear--my own beloved!--undeceive this barbarous,this abhorred Moor."
She appealed to her lover in the fervour of deep anguish,--he turnedfrom her to depart; the moment was bitter; he felt the rankling pangs ofremorse. The wretched girl clung to him,--he made one desperate struggleto disengage himself.
"Moor, take her," he cried with throbbing emotion, "but oh! deal thoumore kindly by her than I have done. Here," he continued, "receive this,and see that she is treated with the regard which her beauty merits, andher misfortunes deserve. Act faithfully to thy pledge, or dread theworst effects of my vengeance."
He threw a large purse of gold upon the ground, which Malique lost notime in securing, whilst Caneri, addressing Gomez Arias,--
"Christian," he said, "I fear not thy vengeance, and I value not thygifts; the word of a Moor is plighted; I love the beauteous female, andthese considerations will afford the best security for my conduct."
He then advanced to take the hand of Theodora, but she flew from himwith a look of wildness that might have moved the very stones to pity.
"Oh! no, no, never! Gomez Arias, you may be cruel, but cannot beinfamous.--Oh, do not, do not deliver me into the hands of the detestedenemy of our country--the ferocious, the false Caneri."
"What!" exclaimed Gomez Arias, surprised, "is this, then, Caneri, therebel chief?"
"The same," replied the renegade, interposing; "will that be an obstacleto our agreement?"
Gomez Arias remained a few minutes in silence; he felt an inwarddisquiet he could not well explain; the name of Caneri had awakened anew and painful sensation; it recalled to his mind the edicts of thequeen, which he was on the point of violating by holding intercoursewith the rebel; but again he thought that the elevated situation towhich he would be shortly exalted might sufficiently secure him againstany danger, should even this transaction ever come to light, of which hecould not foresee the slightest probability.
Meantime, poor Roque, who perceived the hesitation of his master,ventured to approach him, and with a voice agitated with fear,--
"Oh, my dear master," he said, "if it is not too late, let us retreatfrom this dreaded spot; do not conclude this hellish treaty, for beassured it will prove the destruction of your fortunes, if there is anomnipotence above or justice amongst men."
It was too late; the heart that could not yield to the voice of its ownconscience, was not easily to be moved by the expostulation of adependant. Gomez Arias had now advanced too far to retrace his steps; itwas a fearful deed, but he relied with implicit confidence on its beingfor ever buried in silence. Then, without further delay, he made a signto the renegade in token of agreement, and turned towards Granada.
Theodora became frantic; with a desperate effort she flew to her lover;a dismal, harrowing shriek quivered through the inmost fibres of herheart; and then she spoke not, but clung to Gomez Arias with the fearfulmight arising from despair. Her face was hidden in his bosom, her pulsebeat not, and the spark of life seemed extinct. Gomez Arias gentlyendeavoured to extricate himself from her firm embrace; she again becameconscious of his intention, and in the paroxysm of agony she exclaimed--
"Barbarian! have I deserved this from you?"
Roque now sobbed aloud like a child, and Gomez Arias himself was moved;but the renegade, fearful of the results of the scene, advanced to claimhis victim.
"Oh, my honored master!" cried Roque, "does not this harrowing pictureof despair move the kinder feelings of your heart?--you once loved hertenderly, and were it only for the remembrance of what she was, spareher now."
Gomez Arias felt the rebuke; it soured his temper and confirmed him inhis purpose. He was indignant at the freedom of his dependant, anddarted on him a withering look of displeasure. But Roque, who had nowacquired a strength of mind and courage, of which his nature till thenhad seemed wholly destitute, in a bold tone began--
"Shame to the man who calls himself noble, and can behave in this mannertowards a helpless woman! Don Lope, this is a fearful deed, and, mark mewell, the time will come at last, the time of terrible retribution."
The brow of Gomez Arias grew black as a storm, and every suggestion ofpity at once vanished.
"Villain!" he
cried, in a voice choaked with rage, "is it a base bornvarlet like thee, that dare utter such threats to me! Moor--" he added,turning to the renegade, "take this fellow into your charge, and seethat he does not return to Granada; I will reward thee well."
The renegade gave a token of assent, and made a sign to his companionsto secure him.
"And what right," said Roque, indignantly, "have you to sell me thus? Iam a free born man, and a true Christian."
"Roque," replied Gomez Arias, somewhat more composedly, "I have oftenwarned thee that thy indiscretion would at length bring thee intotrouble and disgrace. Thy offence merits even a more exemplarypunishment, which I will spare in consideration of thy former services.Away with him, Moors," he added, "and take him to the distant countrywhither you are going, for here he may prove dangerous to me."
"Aye," returned Bermudo, in a voice of import, "we will take him incharge, for as you say, Don Lope, he may indeed be dangerous to you."
These words, though nothing in themselves, were uttered with amysterious meaning that sounded ominous to Gomez Arias. He felt asthough a cloud was darkening over the ambitious prospects which hadseduced his mind and perverted his heart; the voice that spoke rung inhis ear like an awful warning of which he had some strangerecollection. Again he attempted to escape from the scene. One suddenpowerful effort, and he loosened himself from the grasp of Theodora: thedespairing girl fell to the ground, and raved aloud, and pronounced acurse on her betrayer. Then in the furious impulse of madness, shesnatched at the dagger that glittered in the girdle of Caneri, with thedetermination of closing her wretched existence; but her deadlyintention was thwarted by the renegade, who arrested her arm in time toprevent the fatal deed.
Gomez Arias now sprung upon his horse, and Caneri took the hand ofTheodora; but she furiously darted from him, and sought to fly after herlover, who was speeding fast away.
"Oh stay!" she continued, crying in a tone of agony; "Oh stay, Lope!complete your work--in pity kill me. One crime more will not make youunacceptable to her you love. Return! return! oh Lope, in the name ofheaven!--Not for me, but for the love of Leonor, do not leave me thus!Oh Lope, do not leave me thus!"
Gomez Arias, as he sped away, heard the piteous appeal dying faintly onthe wind, and he plunged the rowels into his courser's sides, to escapethe harrowing sensation which such accents produced. Soon the mournfulcries were lost in the distance, and the wretched Theodora, at lengthexhausted and overpowered, fell senseless on the ground. The Moorseasily succeeded in bearing her away, while poor Roque, who followedclose, seemed, out of pity for her, to be reconciled to his own fate.
END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
GOMEZ ARIAS;
OR,
THE MOORS OF THE ALPUJARRAS.
A SPANISH HISTORICAL ROMANCE.
BY
DON TELESFORO DE TRUEBA Y COSIO.
IN THREE VOLUMES.
VOL. III.
_LONDON_:
HURST, CHANCE, AND CO.
65 ST. PAUL'S CHURCH YARD.
1828.