L I E) RARY OF THE UNIVLR5ITY Of ILLINOIS 823 T394-t V. I Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/truthfalsehoodro01thor TRUTH AND FALSEHOaD, A ROMANCE. When sick of imprisoning walls, I fly to the sunshine and flowers ; When grief, or when care on me falls, I forget it, Romance, in thy bowers. Not all a Fiction ; much of Truth is there; Historic Records, and a Poet's Dream. TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. A ROMANCE. BY ELIZABETH THOENTON, >LTHORESS OF "THE MARCHIONESS,"' "LADY ALICE," &C. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: CHAPMAN & HALL, 186, STRAND. WILLIAM TAIT, EDINBURGH. MDCCCXLVn. EDINBURGH : Printed by William Tait, 107. Prince's Street. 8Z^ PREFACE. In presenting another book to the public, I accept the invitation of some of the re- viewers who did me the honour to notice my last work, " The Marchioness." They bade me go on, and said they should be glad to recognise my hand again. Once more, then, I appeal to a "jury of my countrymen," the Gentlemen of the PREFACE. " press." Should the same (almost unani- mous) verdict be returned, I shall be satisfied : that "The book, spite of its faults, will certainly not be laid down unfinished by any one w^ho shall begin to read it." Praise enough, I think, for a w^riter of fiction, the end and aim of w^hose eflforts is to interest and amuse. In this present world, (although slowly but steadily progressing to a better state of things,) we cannot but see much w^e know to be wrong, and have no powder to make right ; I hold that we owe a debt of grati- tude to the clever fictionists who open for us the regions of romance ; and, w^hen our spirits are harassed, and our hearts op- pressed, by scenes of misery we can only partially alleviate, allow us to forget them PREFACE. VU for a time, by a ramble through their plea- sant mazes. That some staid matter-of-fact people may find my romance too romantic, and condemn it as such, is possible : but they should remember, that the genius of romance is essentially wild and flighty, and will not submit to tight-lacing or confinement to a beaten track ; and that even a grotesque originality is better than a tame and hack- neyed copy of other people's ideas, however excellent. Such as it is, I ofi'er it to the idle and unoccupied as a pastime — to men of science and people of " busy minds " as a relaxation from study — a means of unbending the mental bow, which, bent too continuously or too long, produces disease and death. Vlll PREFACE. Should it interest or amuse any man or woman of the latter class, let them record the fact ; and thus bestow the best — the only recompense which can repay the trouble and expense of publishing to The Author. TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. A ROMANCE. CHAPTER I. A COLD and gloomy day of November, 1525, was fast drawing to a close, as two mounted travellers were crossing a sterile and dreary tract of land, through which the road from Pampeluna to Oleron led. Sud- denly one of them drew the bridle rein, an(/ stopped with the exclamation, " Where the devil is the valise, Fritz ?" To this question his companion replied only by a stupid stare, as he also reined up his horse. VOL, I, B 5 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. " Thou hast forgotten it, Dummkopf! Put spurs to thy horse, and seek it at the venta where we slept. I will wait thy return here," said he who had before spoken, point- ing to a rude and crazy dwelling near them, much resembling an old barn, but which, from some withered vine branches suspended before its door, evidently claimed the rank of an inn, and offered accommodation to the wayfarer. The traveller's instructions were promptly obeyed. The man to whom they were ad- dressed gailoped back over the recently- traversed road, while he continued his way slowly towards the door of the house, which stood alone on the waste, muttering to him- self,, " Now has that fellow's stupidity in- flicted on me the penance of passing, perhaps, a whole day in this miserable grange ! " He Tvas saluted at the entrance by a shock-headed, dirty-faced, but healthy and intelligent-looking boy, who took charge A ROMANCE. S of his horse, but left him to grope his way through a passage nearly dark, to a rude chamber or kitchen, where an old woman sat beside a hearth, on which some w^et fagots were furiously smoking, as if in spite and anger at her efforts to make them burn. He accosted her with the usual salutation in Spain, in the name of God and the Virgin Mary, to which she replied with the same civility ; and when she had succeeded in rousing the sleepy and rebellious fire- wood, she began, at his request, to prepare something for his supper. The short day had now given place to a dark and stormy night; and the traveller, finding nothing to interest him in this dull abode, retired, as soon as he had finished his comfortless meal, to what the mistress of the house was pleased to denominate a bed- chamber, but which would have been more truly called a hen-roost. By profession a soldier, and of course 4 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. occasionally compelled to put up with rough accommodation, he had ceased to cherish a fastidious delicacy which so often clings to the minds, and mars the comfort, of the gently-nurtured. With a soldier's carelessness, he flung himself on the mattress, and tried to sleep ; but the tempestuous wind, fiercely howling round the old building, so shook the shat- tered doors and the unglazed casements, that he found it impossible. Wearily he counted the lingering hours, and gladly hailed the first beams of return- ing light, when, rising from his restless couch, he descended the creaking stairs to the room where he had supped. The family, it appeared, had not yet risen, for no one was Yisible as he sauntered to the outer door, where he stood contem- plating the barren prospect spread around, looking still more cheerless through the gloomy gray haze of a wintry morning. A ROMANCE. 5 At length he was accosted by an old man, the ventero, or host. A civil greeting passed between them ; and they continued the conversation, which began on general subjects, till the cold, raw air forced them to retreat to the interior, where they found the old dame engaged in another obstinate contest with the refractory firewood. Once again her persevering efforts were successful, and in due time she placed a breakfast on a dirty board, yclept a table, with which the stranger, in default of better fare, was fain to content himself. As soon as the coarse meal was finished, Herman (for so the traveller was called) again took up his station at the door of the venta. The house stood on a slight elevation, and commanded a view of the country around; but the prospect, as I said, was barren, bleak, and desolate, — a wide and dreary heath, unbroken by a human habita- S TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. tion or the sight of living thing. The high road from Pampeluna was visible, as it descended a distant hill, but nothing moved upon it ; and with a spirit wearied with the gloomy monotony of the scene, and another hearty curse on the diimmer Kerl, Fritz, who had condemned him to this triste sejour, he turned away, and sought the shed which served as a stable, to see that his horse had been taken care of. While he continued to pat and talk to the favourite animal, which evidently knew, and rejoiced at the sight of its master, the jingling sound of bells saluted his ear. The lively boy who stood beside him made a joyful bound, and clapping his hands with glee, exclaimed, — " Pedrillo ! Pedrillo! Pedrillo is come ! " " Who is Pedrillo ?" inquired Herman. " He is an arriero,'' (a muleteer,) replied the boy. " And why are you so glad that he is come ?" A ROMANCE. 7 "Because he is a clever fellow, and a merry fellow," said the lad. " He plays on the guitar, sings old ballads, and tells long stories, better than any man in the country.'* " Does he so ?" said the ennuied traveller. " Then I also am glad he is come." As he spoke, a mule, with his bells chim- ing in tinkling harmony, thrust his head into the shed, as if it were a place well- known to him, and one he would gladly enter, although regarded with contempt by the master of the more pampered steed. A second followed, led by the welcome Pedrillo, a short and sturdy young man, with a dark- brown, gipsy-looking face, shrewd, crafty, and intelligent in its expression, lighted up by a keen and cunning eye. Saluting the stranger with much courtesy, and the boy with friendly familiarity, he proceeded to provide for the accommodation of his mules, which he called his children, and treated as such, by bestowing on them 3 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. alternately blows and caresses. No sooner was the business of the stable despatched, and the quadrupeds settled to their satis- faction, than the bipeds returned to that part of the building which was appropriated to their use. The old dame, although it was yet early, had already recommenced her culinary labours, and was actively employed in preparing for the noonday meal. The same welcome greeting met the muleteer from the host and hostess, as he had before received from their grandson. As they pressed round him, plying him with questions and offering civilities, he replied with a wink, a nod, or a short sentence, uttered with an air of great condescension, showing he was aware of his own importance, and knew he was a great man, at least in the eyes of the inhabitants of the lonely venta. When the storm of questions had some- what subsided, the ventero retired to super- A ROMANCE. 9 intend some arrangements without, leaving the guests and the other members of his family to amuse each other. That they did so, was evident from the peals of laughter which broke forth from time to time among them. Pedrillo was, in truth, as he had been represented, a clever fellow and very enter- taining companion, possessing a great store of strange tales and marvellous adventures, Avhich had befallen himself, or his comrades of the road, at different periods, and in various places. These he recounted with such varvinof tones of voice and feature, as displayed no inconsiderable share of drama- tic skill, and kept up a strong interest in his auditors. To do him justice, we must also say, that when he had exhausted the stores of his memory, he could apply with success to a fertile imagination, and relate the most unheard-of events with an easy nonchalance, — a quiet matter-of-fact man- b2 10 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. ner, adding such minute and circumstantial details, as left the most determined doubter no choice but to believe. Pedrillo was also a musician, with a pleasant voice, a good ear, and much taste. No wonder, then, he was joyfully welcomed, and his appearance hailed as a god-send in this dolefully mono- tonous abode. At the conclusion of a narrative of one of these " hair-breadth 'scapes " from some tremendous peril, the boy darted out of the room, and returned almost instantly with a guitar, which he presented to the muleteer, with a petition for a song. " What shall it be, Jose ? " " Oh, ' The dark pine-woods and the gloomy cave,' or ' The Lady and the Page,' or ' Bernal and Violante,' " said the boy, eagerly. The muleteer struck lightly the strings of his instrument, and produced a few low and melancholy notes, which were instantly A ROMANCE. 11 drowned by exclamations of impatience from the old woman. " Santa Maria picri- sirna ! " said she ; " if yon are going to moan out one of those weary ditties, as long as from here to Salamanca, I will go watch my pitchero. If you would give us a gay bolero, a segiddilla, or a merry niadri- gal, well and good." Pedrillo once again struck the chords of the guitar, and sounds so animating came forth, that the old dame sprang from her seat, and joined her grandson in his dance about the room. When they bad wearied themselves, the woman went off to her cookery, and the boy again begged for a ballad. Pedrillo complied, and sang in a low, melodious, but somewhat monotonous tone, the ancient ballad of " Bernal and Violante," which will be found in the next chapter. 12 TUUTH AND FALSEHOOD. CHAPTER II. THE ROMANCE OF BERNAL AND VIOLANTE; OR, THE MIDNIGHT HOUR. On the sea is Don Ramiro, chieftain of a gallant fame : At the mast his flag is flying, terror of the Moorish name. Grief hath mark'd the hero's features; pale his cheek, and sad his air; Honour's mthless hand hath torn him from his wedded lady fair. Beauteous is his Violante; lovelier form was never se3n; Fairest dame in all Hispania. — Oh, that she had constant been ! All beneath those towers is silent, which the restless ocean scan, Where that stately castle rises, with its old, gray barbican. Closed is every latticed casement. At the sound of vesper bell, Every portal barr'd and bolted, absent lord and master tell. Still and quiet — all are sleeping; soon will sound the midnight hour; Yet a feeble light is glimm'ring from fair Violante's bower. O'er that wild and foaming ocean, where the waves are heaving high, Mufiled oars, unheard in dipping, force a fragile barque to fly : Ever bold and ever venturous, in the still, dead hours of night Flies that little barque so swiftly, steering for the glimm'ring light. A ROMANCE. 13 Many a night that beacon, gleaming, guides the little boat to land, — Many a night a handsome stranger leaps upon the lonely strand. Now that tide in vain is flinging sullen waves upon the shore, Anxious eyes in vain are watching, now the rower comes no more. Fifteen days, all slowly passing, fifteen weary nights are gone, Since that fairy barque was gliding — since the beacon vainly shone. With a voice deep, hoarse, and sullen, clanging from the belfry tower. Borne across the ocean waters, tolls the solemn midnight hour. Once again a barque is anchor'd on the lone and silent shore. And a low and gentle knocking sounds at Violante's door. " "Who is there ? So gently knocking, who at this late hour may be ?" " 'Tis Bernal, thy lover, lady ! Open quick the door to me." As a rosebud, sweet and blooming. Lady Violante rose, — With love's haste, her eager fingers soon the lattice bars un- close. " Ah, thou com'st ! At last thou comest ! Long I've look'd for thee in vain ! Long my straining eye hath sought thee ! Com'st thou far across the main ? " " Yes, I made a long, long voyage, ere I reach'd this well- known land." " Are the waves so wild I Thou tremblest ! Cold as ice thy shaking hand. 14 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. Do'st thou think my friends will find thee; — my relations cause ■ thy fear I Shrink not, love, there is no danger; none will find thee, dearest, here. " Do'st thou dread my pages, vassals ? All are in these towera asleep; Wearied with the day's diversions, none a midnight vigil keep ! Thou com'st arm'd. Do'st fear my husband ? He is far, oh, far away; Be thou sure the fierce Morescoes long will his return delay ! " " No way do I heed thy vassals, nor thy pages do I fear ; Prompt obedience will they yield me, when they my commands shall hear. Thy relations — friends I dread not; — thy relations are my own. For thy friends who are not mine, too, let them tremble at my frown ! " And thy husband, Violante — Violante once so dear. Thou, alas ! must see with terror that wroug'd husband who — is here ! " Ere the morn again is gladd'ning earth with fresh and fragrant breath, See the guilty Violante, barefoot, on her way to death. Coarse and rude the sackcloth garments which her fragile form disgrace, Coarse and rude the hempen girdle bound around her slender waist ; Through the antique portals passing, in procession sad and slow. Cowled monks, white torches bearing, onward to the scafi'old go. A ROMANCE. 15 The tragic tale, v/ith its mournful music, was now interrupted by a summons to dinner, from the mistress of the mansion, which, it appeared, she had hastened for the purpose, as she declared, of putting a stop to these lagrijmosas, for which she herself had no taste. Her grandson and the trayeller, although they did not appear very grateful for the activity she had displayed, notwithstanding aided willingly in the demolition of the puchero and its accom- paniments, and also in emptying a couple of wine flasks, the contents of which met with much approbation. No sooner was the repast finished, and the good dame had retired with the empty dishes, than Pedrillo was requested to con- tinue the ballad ; but he declared he must first see what *' his children " were about, and departed for that purpose. After a short absence he returned ; and, again taking up the guitar, resumed the tale. 16 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. Weeping damsels, trembling pages, pale and awe-struck vassals stand ; All with deepest grief are gazing, in a mute and mournful band. Meek, in sad submission bending, lowly bowed her graceful head, With a voice of earnest pleading, thus the pallid lady said : " Oh my much wrong'd lord and husband, great my sins to thee have been; Yet, forgive me ! Oh, let pardon close this last sad fatal scene; Let my death be deem'd atonement, great and heavy though my crime ; Death ! a felon's death, inflicted in my fresh and youthful prime ! '• Humbly earnest, I implore thee, spare, oh spare his precious life ! Right and just the heavy sentence on thy lost and guilty wife ; But to kim was ne'er accorded, as to me, thy worth to know: Had he known thee, valiant captain, never had he wrong'd thee so ! " Sternly stood the Don Ramiro. As these pleading accents broke On his ear, sweet love and mercy struggling in his heart awoke ; Softening in its fierce expression, on her turn'd his gloomy eye. Dreamy — as in memory tracing days of peace and joy gone by. But, at mention of his rival, jealous ire and fury came; Love and mercy fled afirighted at the hated rival's name. Deep and mournful is the stillness — only broken by the sound Of a low and stifled wailing — reigns in solemn sadness round. A ROMANCE. 17 Faintly is the torchlight gleaming on the chief's contracted brow, While his pallid lips are quivering with the signal for the blow. Quick the fatal axe descending, on her beauteous neck it fell ; Sobs and groans, in heavy murmurs, on the morn's first breezes swell. Three long days of gloom and mourning; nights succeeding, cold and dark. When once more, across the ocean, comes the bold and venturous barque. Little barque, so lightly gliding, where the crested waters roar, Yainly waiting for the glimm'ring beacon-light which beams no more. Vainly does thy gallant rower ever guide thee to and fro ! Vainly strain his ear for signals; sounds it never more shall know. Rash — impatient — near and nearer comes the little boat to land; Once again the handsome stranger leaps upon the lonely strand. All is darkness — all is silence — till, with startling gloomy power, By the cavern'd rocks repeated, tolls again the midnight hour, See, the castle vaults unclosing, widely yawns the marble tomb, And, to meet the daring stranger, lo, a female form is come ! " Ha ! It is my Violante ! Com'st thou, loveliest, then to me ? With impatience long I've waited on the cold and stormy sea." " Yes she comes, Bernal,to met thee — Violante— thine no more ! Violante comes to warn thee, quick to fly this treacherous shore. " Danger, dearest, hovers o'er thee, peril dire thy steps attends ; A wrong'd husband's wrath pursues thee, hitherward his course he bends. 18 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. For the guilty love I cherish'd, I my forfeit life have paid. — Died for th.ee ! Thy Violanle in the silent tomb was laid ! "Cold those arms which once embraced thee ; cold those lips which kisses gave ; And the heart that beat so fondly — in the dark and humid grave. But the mighty love I bore thee, strong as death, has reft the tomb, From the trance of death aroused me ; and to save thee, love, I come !" " If the arms which once embraced me, and the lips which kisses gave — Lips that open'd but to bless me — lie within the silent grave; — If, for me, that dear one perish'd — dying by the cruel knife, — Made the earth a dreary desert, — what have I to do with life I " There, where Violante lieth, in the tomb Bernal will lie ! Let him come, the wrathful husband ! nought have I to do but die 1" " Live, oh live, my caballero ! Live to bless some happier dame ; Teach the children she may bear thee to avoid my guilt and shame ! " Fly, oh fly from Don Ramiro ! Fly, oh fly thy threaten'd doom ! If thou wouldst that Violante rest in peace within her tomb 1 " Lo ! the castle gates are opening ; rushing downwards to the strand Comes a host of armed vassals, bearing each a torch in hand. A ROMANCE. 19 Afc their head the sullen chieftain, furious as the mountain storm, But his deadly aim is baffled by a shadowy female form ; Vainly does his practised falchion ever seek his rival's side ; Still the phantom flits before him ! — 'Tis his young and once- loved bride. Sometimes in her bridal garments, sometimes in a funeral shroud, Violante hovers round him, airy as a summer cloud ; Till across the stormy waters, o'er that sea all wild and dark, Like a bird, so lightly skimming, flies again the little barque. No sooner was the ballad finished than Pedrillo laid down the guitar and retired ; while Herman once more listlessly saun- tered to the outer door, to send forth another vain and weary glance in search of the man for whom he waited. The storm had now w^holly subsided, and left a cold, clear, frosty atmosphere, w^hich permitted the eye to range unchecked over the surrounding country, and to note any object moving on it ; but, alas ! there was none, and he WTtS about to re-enter the house, humming a verse of the ballad to 20 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. which he had been listening, whose melan- choly tone seemed well suited to his present mood, when suddenly the expected horseman appeared on the brow of the distant hill. Much rejoiced, he waited his advance ; but, instead of descending the hill, he sat motion- less in his saddle, and w^as almost immedi- ately joined by another horseman ; and both appeared to be watching some object on the road they had just quitted. Greatly surprised, he now thought he must have mistaken the identity of the man whom he had first seen, and hastily moved forward to ascertain the fact. At the same moment that he discovered his error, that it was not the dummer Kevl, Fritz, but a stranger, a clumsy ill-shapen machine, drawn by six horses, became visible, and two more mounted attendants. In these days of vehicular elegance, such a machine would scarcely be honoured with the name of a carriage ; but in the sixteenth century, A ROMANCE. 21 when these things were few and rarely seen, it announced the approach of some person of distinction. It appeared that the travellers, whoever they were, must have come fast and far, for the smoking and jaded horses with difficulty drew the cumbrous vehicle up the ascent on which he stood. As it approached the venta, he saw that it contained two ladies, one of them handsome, and apparently seven or eight-and-twenty years of age ; the other a portly dame, who might have been her mother, and a gentleman, somewhat younger than the latter, whose face indicated a quiet, easy indolence of character, strongly con- trasting with the keen animation and rest- less activity which now marked the counte- nance of the younger lady, as she eagerly exclaimed, in the French language : — " Try, try, De Verneux, if it be not possible to get horses !" " Alas ! madam," he replied, " the appear- 22 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. ance of the place but too certainly forbids all hope of that." As he spoke, he quitted the carriage and joined the group assembled at the door of the inn, formed by its gaping inhabitants and the muleteer, who stood with a keen and curious eye, noting every thing that occurred in and round the carriage ; while the dismounted horsemen who had accom- panied it, with the bridles in their hands, waited, with anxious and perplexed faces, near it. It was soon ascertained that two slight mules were the only disposable quadrupeds to be found ; and the gentleman addressed aS De Verneux, quickly returned to report his ill success, and to hold a con- sultation with the ladies, relative to their present position, which, from the expression of their faces, appeared to be one of con- siderable embarrassment. The coachman still kept his seat and the postilions their saddles ; but all seemed A ROMANCE. 23 equally at a loss to decide on what was next to be done. At length the younger lady addressed some words to the coachman, to which he replied: — "Assuredly, madam, they might be goaded on for another league or two ; but this, I beg leave to say, would but render your situation worse, by leaving you without the shelter of a roof so humble as this, even, under which to pass the night." The expression of vexation and disap- pointment deepened on her countenance, and she answered, with something of bitterness, some observation of the elder female: — " Yes, it is very well for you to be calm and quiet ! You run no risk of being dragged back to Madrid !" The lady to whom these sharp words were addressed looked grieved and annoyed, as she said, gravely : — " You are well aware, madam, that I am far less anxious about my own safety than about yours ; but I must take the liberty again to counsel you 24 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. to remain here for the present. The day is already far advanced. This house, desti- tute as it probably is of all decent accom- modation, is yet better than passing the night without shelter. In the morning the horses will be in a condition to proceed. You risk nothing at present," she added, in a more earnest tone ; " your passport is yet eflSicient ; and, if even the worst you appre- hend should take place, if you should be compelled to return to Madrid, you will yet, assuredly, be treated with all honour and respect." " Honour and respect ! " she repeated angrily. " Yes, I well know what I have to expect if I again fall into the hands of that false and treacherous Talk not to me, Madame Dumont, of returning. There is no danger I would not sooner brave ! My liberty is precious — most precious now, since, if deprived of that, how can I hope to aid my unhappy brother?" A ROMANCE. 25 This short dialogue between the two ladies had not been carried on in so low a tone of voice as to prevent its reaching the ears of Herman, who had advanced, and now stood near the carriaofe. He knew not who they were, nor what they wished to do ; but they were females — ladies — one of them very handsome — evidently vexed and embarrassed. All the feelings of the man — the chivalry of the gentleman — were roused. He advanced to the side of the carriage with a courteous bow, a slight apology, and the offer of his services, if he could in any way be useful to them. The ladies both fixed their eyes on him, the younger with a keen scrutinizing glance ; replying only, " I thank you, sir." After a pause, she said, "You wear a peasant's dress, but your language and your manner belong to a higher class; I will, therefore, tell you that my safety requires that I should reach the frontier of France VOL. I. 26 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. with the least possible delay. If you, sir, can in any way aid me to do so, or suggest any means by which it may be done, you will confer on me a great obligation. My horses are tired and cannot go on ; and my people," she added, somewhat spitefully, " can invent no better expedient than to wait here, quietly, till overtaken by the danger I am anxious to avoid." Herman, again assuring her it would give him great pleasure to be of use to her, walked off in search of means to aid her ; but, alas ! the mode of moving that heavy machine was not to be found, and after some delay he also returned to report a want of success. A cloud of vexation again shaded her face, on seeing which, he said, with a hesi- tating half-decided manner, "I have been able to devise but one plan, and that, I am afraid, will appear to you, madam, so wild and unseemly, that you will not have the A ROMANCE. 27 courage, the confidence in me, necessary to carry it through." He paused, and she said eagerly, " Let me hear it, however. I do not want courage when its exertion can aid me in escaping from a perilous position." Thus encouraged, he said, "I trust, madam, you will believe that I would not propose such a plan, did I see any other means of aiding you ; but I do not. It is this : we are not more than sixteen leagues from the French frontier. I have a strong, fast, and fresh horse ; I have found in the stable an old pillion, and — "again Herman stopped, and hesitated. " Go on, sir," said the lady. " If you could trust yourself to my pro- tection and guidance, I would undertake to bear you, in a few hours, out of the Spanish dominions." The younger lady listened to this pro- posal with a grave face ; the elder, with 28 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. one utterly aghast. That of Monsieur De Verneux was characterized by a sort of indignant horror. While she mused, as if half inclined to adopt this expedient, wild and desperate as it was, her female friend saw that she hesitated, and, unable to suppress her terror, at length burst forth with exclamations on the danger, the in- sanity of resorting to such a measure. '/ "Peace, Dumont !" said she. "Thou canst not aid me to escape the difficulties which beset me. I pray thee therefore to be quiet, that I may myself decide on what to do." As she uttered these words, she appeared to be reflecting. In a short time she raised her eyes, and once more anxiously scru- tinized the young man who stood waiting her decision. There was nothing in his appearance to excite suspicion. On the contrary, there was an expression of frank good humour, A ROMANCE. 29 and much intelligence in his face, which, joined to a manly, well-formed person, was rather calculated to inspire confidence. He had reached that period of life which may be termed early manhood ; for although his frame was muscular and strongly built, he did not appear to be more than eighteen or twenty years of age. His dress was such as was commonly worn by the lower and middle classes in Spain ; an ample cloak of a coarse woollen stuff, and a broad-brimmed hat, looped up in front. He spoke both French and Spanish, but with an accent which announced him a native of neither France nor Spain. He saw that the lady to whom he had offered his services still hesitated whether to accept them or not, and again, with a modest but firm and decided air, he said, " If you venture, madam, to commit your- self to ray care, I pledge the word of a gentleman to place you in safety, or perish 30 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. in the attempt. I am well armed, and have no doubt of being able to do so ; but I must entreat that your decision may be made at once. The day is far advanced, and every minute is precious." The cloud of care and incertitude, v^hich had hitherto shaded her face, disappeared as he spoke, and she replied with a sweet and gracious smile, " Once again I thank you, sir, for the offer of your services, I accept them, and will place myself under your protection, with the fullest reliance on your honour and plighted word. I am ready now to accompany you," she added, wrapping the travelling cloak, which covered her dress, more closely round her. In a few minutes, the handsome and spirited horse was led forth by its master. At the sight of it, Madame Dumont and Monsieur De Verneux, who had remained still in mute consternation, broke forth again into entreaties that she would abandon this A ROMANCE. 31 rash step, or at least suffer Monsieur De Verneux to take the stranger's place on the horse, as her guide and protector. "No, no, De Verneux!" she said, half laughing. " You are a quiet, pleasant sort of laissez passer person in a lady's train ; but by no means calculated to undertake the arduous duties of a knight-errant to a wandering and distressed dame. AdieUy mon cher De Verneux ! Adieu, ma bonne Dumont ! I shall hasten forward on my journey, and you will follow me as soon as you can." Although these transactions have taken some time to narrate, not more than an hour had elapsed after the arrival of the carriage at the door of the venta, ere the lady, who was evidently the principal person among the party of French travellers, was seated behind her youthful guardian, holding fast by a broad belt, buckled round his waist, and who, leaving instructions for the 32 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. persou for whom he had been waiting, galloped off towards the hazy mountain range visible in the distance, leaving the lady's companions utterly disconsolate. The chagrin of Madame Dumont was indeed somewhat alleviated by a small portion of spite, with which she contem- plated the punishment and repentance she anticipated as the inevitable result of a step so rash and imprudent, on the part of her friend or mistress, whichever she might be. A ROMANCE. 33 CHAPTER III. Meantime the gallant horse sped onward as swiftly as if he had been accustomed to bear a double burden, until they had traversed the whole extent of the barren heathy land, and the surface changed from the short dry turf, partially covered with patches of low, scrubby furze, to a deep and heavy sand, in which the noble animal, free and fresh as he was, could make but slow progress. Fortu- nately a couple of leagues terminated this wearying and laborious tract, and the road began to ascend on firm and rocky ground. As they mounted, the daylight declined fast and the cold augmented. Herman, reckoning on the rising of the moon (which was nearly full,) in an hour or two, wrapped c2 34 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. the lady's cloak more closely round her, and pushed on his willing steed. But as the ascent became steeper, his pace necessarily slackened, and they were slowly climbing in darkness, when, in a pause of the conversa- tion which had been carried on between him and his fair charge, she said, " Did I not hear the bells of a mule ? " After listening a moment, he replied, "Yes. I distinguish also the clatter of hoofs on the hard road behind us. It is not possible : it cannot be Pedrillo. Little more than three hours have passed since we quitted the venta, and he declared his mules must have at least a day's rest before he would be able to resume his journey. They are probably smugglers," he added, at the same time, with prudent precaution, shifting the bridle to his left hand, he placed his right on one of the pistols in his belt. Notwithstanding this declaration of the musical muleteer, Herman, after listening A ROMANCE. 35 with some anxiety to the slow ascent of those behind, had at length the satisfaction of being overtaken and joined by him. Greatly was that satisfaction augmented when his ears were saluted with a shout of joy and the exclamation of "Ach mein lieber Herr. Ich Jiahe Sie icieder (jefunden^' in the well-known voice of his man, Fritz. Bold and brave as he was, he could not but feel his situation to be forlorn and perilous in these solitary and unsafe roads. Charged with the fettering responsibility for the lady's safety, who with so much con- fidence had committed herself to his protec- tion, he had felt the lonely isolation of his position ; and the dummer Kerl, Fritz, instead of a rattling jobation for his stu- pidity, w^as hailed with a glad v;elcome by his master, as the faithful fellow appeared at his side, with the missing valisey now visible in the beams of the rising moon. After a few questions and answers ex- 3e TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. changed between them, Herman turned to the muleteer with the inquiry of what had led him so quickly to change his plans. " Why you see, camarado," he replied, "after you were gone — that is to say, as you were going, it came into my head that as these mountain roads are never too safe at any time, little accidents happening on them sometimes, such as a man being found stretched stark and stiff on the ground with his pockets and his packages (if he happen to have any) rifled, and nobody able, or what is much the same, nobody willing to tell who laid him there ; as I said, it came into my head that these roads not having too good a name in peaceful times, were not likely to be better now, when there is so much quarrelling and fighting among kings and princes, and that it would be better for you and for me, if we were to travel together. So I saddled my mules and left the venta almost at the same time A ROMANCE. 37 as yourself, trusting to come up with you ; for although my children had no chance against your horse equally weighted, yet with a double burden on the horse, we are pretty fairly matched. And this man," he added, " who I found was also a cama- rado " " Ja, der Schehn ! " exclaimed Fritz, to whom he pointed, interrupting him, for Fritz understood well enough what was said, although no great proficient in any language except his native German ; " Ja, he did all he could to prevent my following you." " How is this, Pedrillo ? " said Herman, explaining to him the man s assertion. " Ah yes, Senor," he replied carelessly, " it is true enough. I saw he had ridden hard already, and I thought it better for you and myself not to be encumbered with a companion who might be unable to keep up with us, and who might perhaps impede our progress." 38 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. The moon was now shining brightly, but her cold clear light served only to illumine a dreary landscape ; black and rugged rocks fissured by frightful gullies, so deep that the torrents roaring in the bottom were un- heard ; huge and naked cliffs rearing their giant heads on high, stern and frowning, like the genius of desolation in its favourite home. Nothing of vegetation was seen, save here and there a group of cork trees, which, sighing and shivering in the icy breeze, but served to add another gloomy feature to the dismal scene. The muleteer who, whenever the road admitted of his doing so, continued to ride beside Herman's horse, exerted himself with extraordinary assiduity to cheer and amuse the lady, but his efforts met with little success; for suffering physically from the severity of the cold, and mentally from the embarrassment of her strange and hazardous position, she gave but little attention to his A ROMANCE. 39 words, and scarcely uttered one herself by way of reply. In about an hour they came to a part where another road branched off, and which Herman was about to take, as leading direct to the point he wished to reach ; but the muleteer asserted so boldly that it would lead them from that place, that well as he believed himself acquainted with the route he had planned, he hesitated. " I tell you, Senor camarado, " said Pedrillo, *' that road will lead you towards Roncesvalles ; this is the one we must take. You still hesitate ; is it likely that / should be mistaken, who have traversed them both hundreds of times ? " Herman, although scarcely convinced, followed him, and they continued to ride on, talking and alternately relating some acci- dent or adventure which had befallen the one or the other. Pedrillo's store of adven- tures indeed appeared to be inexhaustible. 40 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. In the middle of one of them, to which Herman was listening with great interest, his attention was recalled to his charge by some feebly-nttered and half-heard accents from her almost frozen lips, as she relaxed her hold on the strap attached to his belt, by which she had hitherto kept herself steady in her seat. He now perceived with anxiety and alarm that she was so benumbed by the cold as to be wholly unable to support herself. Dis- mounting, he took off his cloak, and, wrapping it round her, again mounted, placing her before him, and supporting her almost motionless form with his arm, rode on. " Santa Maria ! she will be frozen to death, Senor caballero," said the muleteer. " A little farther on is the cabin of a moun- tain hunter, as honest a fellow as ever lived. If you like to turn a little out of your road, I can show you the way to his hut. He is a sure marksman, and has now, I will be A ROMANCE. 41 bound, a bit of game roasting before a fire we shonld none of us be sorry to get a sight of, althouorh better able to bear the cold than this poor chicken of a lady." Herman eagerly listened to this informa- tion, inquiring how far it was to the house he spoke of. " Oh, not far, Senor ; a little half-league; and we are now close to the place where the road turns ofi"." Situated as he now was, he had no choice but to follow this advice, and they soon after quitted the direct road to thread a mountain track, only wide enough to admit a horse to pass, so that the muleteer was compelled to dismount and tie the head of one mule to the tail of the other. This " little half-league " appeared to Herman to have no end ; for he thought they must have already travelled three times that distance, and still they were scramb- ling through the rugged defile, seemingly as 42 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. far from shelter as when they first quitted the road. At length the welcome bark of a dog met the travellers' ears, — the more welcome, inasmuch as it sounded near to them. Very soon after, a rude habitation became visible, and on the door being opened, at the urgent summons of the muleteer, the gladdening sight of a bright fire blazing on the hearth, and cheerily lighting up the rough walls of a good-sized room, relieved the anxious fears by which Herman had been tormented for the health and safety of his delicate and helpless charge. The party were received with much civility and a hospitable offer of all the accommoda- tion his cottage could afi'ord, by a man whom Pedrillo saluted by the name of Juan Gomez. The poor half-frozen lady was placed in a seat near the fire ; and, to the infinite satis- faction of Herman, very soon after their arrival, a female, apparently about sixteen, A ROMANCE* 49 wbom the host addressed as his niece, made her appearance, and took charge of her. Reraoyinfr the coarse cloak in which she was wrapped, she proceeded to chafe her hands and feet, and, supplying her from time to time with a little hot wine, Tornalina (for so the host called her) had soon the pleasure of seeing her kind and careful assiduity rewarded by the restoration of her guest to sense and motion. As the chilled blood began again to circulate, the poor lady moaned, as if in pain ; but this soon ceased, and her bright eyes once more beamed with intelligence. Could the interior of this mountain hut have been painted at this moment, it would have afforded an interesting tableau. The singular and picturesque dress of the men, in good keeping with the room they occu- pied, the rude walls of which were decorated with the destructive instruments and the rough spoils of the chase, — ^guns, nets, spears. 44 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. and hunting knives, with the skins, horns, and feet of animals, hung or lay around with other trophies of the hunter s success ; while in marked contrast, near the hearth, a strong light thrown on their figures by the blazing wood, sat the two females, both very hand- some, yet very different in age, person, and appearance. The slight and girlish form of Tornalina, seated on the earthen floor of the cottage, with her youthful face raised, and her large dark eyes fixed with curiosity and interest on the person and dress of the guest, whose feet she was warming in her lap ; the guest, evidently of superior rank, and much older than the Spanish maiden, was, in turn, regarding her with the warmest good-will. The cloak which had covered her dress being now thrown off, showed that she wore a widow's mourning. Her age appeared to be about seven or eight-and-twenty, although in fact she was some years older. Her person and face, symmetrical and lovely. A ROMANCE. 45 were, like her air and manner, characterized hy a gentle grace and dignity, inspiring at once love and respect. In a short time, the hot wine and the warmth of the room appeared to have pro- duced a heavy drowsiness, and she fell asleep with her head leaning against the high back of the chair on which she sat. Tornalina, gently disengaging herself, placed a cushion uoder her feet, and quitted her to put the supper on the table, at which were sitting Herman and his man only, the other two, Pedrillo and the host, not having yet re-entered. To the stable, therefore, the young girl now went to call them. She was not long absent ; yet, when she returned, Herman thought the expression of her face was changed. He fancied that she looked anxious and uneasy, as she advanced to the sleeping lady, and continued to gaze at her, as it appeared to him, with aug- mented curiosity and interest; then, turn- 46 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. ing, she approached him, as if about to speak. At this moment the door opened, her uncle and Pedrillo entered, when, again turning, she walked away. Herman, hungry as he was, soon forgot the curiosity her manner had raised, in the agreeable task of aiding in the destruction of an ample and excellent dish of mountain venison, stewed with garbanzos, (a sort of bean,) and in emptying several flasks of good wine. A ROMANCE. 47 CHAPTER IV. Animated by the warmth and the good cheer, the tongues of the host and his guests were alike set free, and a lively conversa- tion V7as carried on, principally supported by Gomez and Pedrillo, interspersed with rustic witticisms, coarse jokes, and now and then a characteristic oath. The host, who appeared to be somewhat of a politician, asked numerous questions relative to the state of the country, and the different powers who were then agitating Europe with their conflicting interests. To these Pedrillo replied ; for Herman seemed little disposed to talk on such subjects. " And what have you done with the King of France?" said the host. 48 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. " Oh, we have him safely caged at Madrid." " Ha ! I am sorry for him ; for he is a gay and gallant gentleman. I remember him well. I used to see him often, in former days, before I was perched up in this old kite's nest. They say he is ill, dying, as Bernardo told us." " No," said the muleteer, " he is better, and out of danger, as far as his health is concerned." " And our Prince Henry, D'Albret of Navarre, who was taken with him, you have caged him too, I suppose?" "No, he has escaped. He took to his bed pretending to be ill, and one fine morn- ing walked off in his servant's clothes, leav- ing the man in his place." " Bravo, bravo !" shouted Gomez, thump- ing the table with a force that made the drinking-horns jump. " Good ! ha, ha, ha ! por Sant Ignacio I But this was fighting A ROMANCE. 49 young Carlos, the fox, your King of Spain, with his own weapons. Ha, ha, ha ! I am glad our prince has got away. I was born a Navarresa, and have fought for my country; and sometimes I think I should like to be among my old comrades again, although I did get more blows, and less meat, than I do here. The French traitor, the Duke of Bourbon, who fought against his country, where is he?" "At Toledo, with the emperor and his court," said Pedrillo. " They say he is to marry one of the king's sisters." " No, no, he will not ! — he will not !" said the lady, distinctly. Gomez, Pedrillo, and Herman, all turned their eyes towards her, surprised, having believed her to be soundly sleeping. In fact, she was so. The words were uncon- sciously uttered, and had, probably, no con- nexion with the subject in discussion, and when again she repeated the words, " He VOL. I. D 50 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. will not, he will not," in the same distinct tone, her eyes were still closed, her face and figure motionless. While this conversation had continued between Pedrillo and the host, Herman's attention had been drawn, and his curiosity again excited by Tornalina, who, he thought, watched him. Turn which way he would, the large dark eyes of the Spanish maiden were ever on him. He would, probably, have accounted for this circumstance in a way gratifying to his vanity ; for it was by no means the first time he had attracted the attention of a vouthful female ; but there was, in the present instance, an expression of restless uneasiness in the damsel's face, that forbade his flattering himself, and em- barrassed him greatly. For the first time, something like a vague suspicion of treachery crossed his mind. He saw the strong interest Tornalina took in her female guest. The lady had declared A ROMANCE. 51 herself to be in danger while within the Spanish territory. He knew not who she was, nor the nature of the danger which threatened her; but he had pledged his word to carry her safely to France, and, when he recollected how he had been in- duced to quit the known and beaten road for this wild and remote abode, he became seriously uneasy, and resolved to depart im- mediately. In pursuance of this determination, he asked Pedrillo whether he intended to go any farther, declaring his own intention of setting off at once. " Pot todos los diahlos ! " exclaimed the muleteer, by way of reply, and with a vexed face, as if disagreeably roused by the intelli- gence. " Sen or caballero, I don't mean to say any thing uncivil, but in my opinion he would be little better than a madman, or something worse, who would rouse that poor lady-bird from her quiet sleep in this 52 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. warm nest, and drag her out again through the rough mountain roads, cold and dark, (for the moon will soon be down,) at the risk of breaking her neck and his own over some precipice, or getting her throat cut by thieves." This speech, uttered with startling energy, greatly shook the determination of Herman. It did, indeed, appear like cruelty to expose the poor lady, now so quietly sleeping, to the piercing cold of the mountain air, from which she had already so severely suffered. Pedrillo saw that he hesitated, and added, in a jocose and good-humoured tone, "Come, Caballero, sit down and be quiet, and I will sing you a gentle ditty, which will lull you to sleep also." Taking up a guitar, he sung, in a low tone of voice, a lullaby sort of air sufficiently soothing. As soon as he had finished, Tornalina stretched forth her hand for the guitar, saying, as she took it, "Now, sir A ROMANCE. 53 traveller, / will sing for your amusement ; you shall have my lullaby." Striking the chords of the instrument with a free, bold hand, she sung, with a clear voice and a dashing abruptness of style, strangely contrasting with the music of the muleteer, and better calculated to rouse than to lull her auditors, — THE WARNING. The lady she said to the armed knight, " On the mountaitt thou must not stay ; 'Tis here, 'tis here that the raven croaks, Go, hasten along thy way." " No raven is heard on the mountain top, In the beams of the sunny morn; 'Tis down in the dell, and its twilight shade. That he winds his boding horn." But she said again to the armed knight, — " The vulture that screams for his prey Is perch'd in the cleft of the mountain gorge, — Oh, tarry not on thy way." " And what care I for the screaming bird. Though perch'd on the rock he be \ Nor raven nor vulture shall scare me hence, I'll rest me awhile with thee." 54 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. The lady she frown'd on the armed knight : " Rash knight, thou shalt not stay ! For the death-owls cry, and the wolf is nigh, Quick ! — hasten along thy way." From the singular style in which this was sung, and the significant look directed to himself, Herman could no longer doubt that " The Warning " was addressed to him ; and, immediately rising, he proceeded to awaken the lady, who still slept, in spite of the clashing chords of the instrument, and the loud voice of the damsel. He awoke her with difficulty; and scarcely had she opened her eyes ere they again closed, and he essayed in vain to make her comprehend the necessity for their depar- ture. A complete torpor seemed to have seized her senses. While thus employed, Pedrillo rose from his seat, saying, " Well, Senor, since you will go, the sooner you are off the better ; for the moon will not wait, you know, and you will get on badly without her light ! A ROMANCE. 55 Come, Gomez, let us go and help to saddle the horses." Thus saying, they followed Fritz, who had already quitted the room, and Herman turned to seek an explanation from Torna- lina ; but she had disappeared. Recollecting some directions he had omitted to give his servant, he hastily passed through the half-closed door, and was advancing when the sound of his host's voice reached his ear, engaged, as it ap- peared, in earnest conference with the muleteer ; for his own approach to a reed fence, which served as a shelter from the mountain winds, and behind which they stood, was unheard. " If you are sure you are not mistake u, and it can be done," said Gomez, as if in reply to some proposal. " I am sure — quite sure ! I thought I knew her when I first saw her, muffled up as she was ; and now I am quite positive 5Q TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. I am not mistaken," replied Pedrillo. " Courage, man ! If we succeed we shall be well paid for a little risk and trouble." " Courage ! yes, we shall need it ! " said Gomez. " 'Tis your calm and quiet people, with a close-shut mouth, like this young man, that are the very devil when roused. He and his man are both as strong as two young lions ; and you — you are a better hand at scheming than at fighting, as I well remember. Don't you recollect " "Pooh! nonsense!" said the muleteer, interrupting him. " Let me manage, and we shall have no need to fight at all. And if we should — you say Antonio will be here in an hour or two at most." " Yes," said the host ; " but " "But what?" " If any harm should come to the lady : she is a kind friend to the ill-used and un- happy who have no other friend, as I know, A ROMANCE. 57 and to the Calvinistas,^ who are treated like dogs, and hunted like wild beasts. I don't half like the business." " Harm to the lady !" exclaimed his com- panion. " Do'st think I'm such a borrico as to harm her, when I tell thee the Emperor would give three of his fingers to get hold of her?" " Well ! well !" said Gomez, hesitatindv, as if giving a reluctant consent. " Try first what you can do by fair means." " I will," replied Pedrillo. " Remember, Juan Gomez, if thou lettest this chance of mending thy fortune slip through thy fingers, thou may'st whistle for such another." The voice of Fritz, singing as he advanced, put an end to the conference. Herman returned to the house, pondering on what ^ A slight anachronism. Calvin at this time was scarcely twenty years old, and had not, of course, given a name to that sect of Protestants who adopted his doctrines. Bat " Calvinista^' was afterwards the Spanish term for Protestant. d2 58 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. he had heard, forgetting the instructions he had intended to give his man, and greatly embarrassed to decide on what steps to take. That the safety, or at least the liberty of his fair charge, was seriously threatened, and his own consequently endangered as her protector, he could no longer doubt. Yet what measures could he take for their mutual defence, in utter ignorance of their plan of attack ? Anxiously, as he re-entered, he looked for Tornalina, hoping to obtain from her some clew by which to guide himself; but she was still absent, and he knew not where to seek her. The lady was still asleep ; but now fully aware of the necessity of keeping his arms free from the burden of a sleeping woman, he determined to awaken her effectually. For this purpose he gently shook her, and recollecting she had made some allusion to a brother in whose fate she seemed deeply A ROMANCE. 59 interested, and on whose account her liberty was more than commonly precious, he now availed himself of this knowledge as a means by which to rouse her. "For Heaven's sake, madam, wake up!" he said, as soon as he saw her heavy eyelids raised. "Rouse yourself! How can you hope to aid your brother, unless you exert yourself to quit this place?" The stimulus thus judiciously applied produced its effect on her half congested brain. Raising herself to a more erect position, she fixed her eyes on him with a vacant and bewildered stare, slowly re- peating, " My brother !" Suddenly all their native intelligence flashed from them, and she reiterated, " My brother ! ray unhappy, my imprisoned brother ! Oh yes, sir, you are right ! I thank you for reminding me of a duty so im- perious as that with which I am charged. I am ready, quite ready to resume my journey." 60 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. Rising from her seat she stood erect, changed in a moment from the torpid, inert slumberer, to the graceful, dignified, and animated woman, exhibiting the prompt and complete triumph of the mind over the body. Rejoiced to have made this first necessary step, Herman still hesitated as to what was next to be done. Fritz did not come, as he expected, to announce that the horses were ready; and under the mysterious circum- stances — the vague and unknown danger which menaced them, he did not think it prudent again to quit his charge. While he yet remained doubtful how to act, Gomez and Pedrillo entered, and seating themselves at the table, proceeded to fill their cups from a fresh flask of wine. " Come, Senor viajador," said the mule- teer, "take another cup of this excellent Paxarete before you start, to keep the cold out of your stomach !" A ROMANCE. 61 But Herman, who knew he cherished some treacherous design, though ignorant of its nature, refused to taste the wine, lest it might be drugged. " Well, well," he said again. " It is not often wine like this goes begging for some one to drink it ; so, if you will not, I will, Sefior. A pleasant journey to you and the lady." Pedrillo's own face was immovably grave as he uttered this, but a sly grin evidently distorted the features of the host, and con- firmed Herman in his determination to watch them closely, and en no account to sufi'er himself to be again separated from the lady, in whose fate he became more interested, as the perils that seemed to beset her developed themselves. Some time elapsed in this manner; the two men drinking and talking, Herman and the lady impatiently awaiting the arrival of Fritz, who, however, came not. An«:er at 62 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. his delay, and fear for the safety of his faithful servant, alternately gave place to each other in the mind of his master, who continued to stride up and down the room, occasionally going to the door to listen. Once he made a step or two beyond it, in his anxiety to ascertain what had become of him ; but, still watchful and on his guard, returned instantly on hearing a movement of the men within. He met them at the door, and from the haste and precipitation of their manner, was convinced their intention had been to exclude him, and prevent his re-entrance. Situated as he now was, he thought it most prudent to take no notice, nor show any suspicion of such an intention, but to con- tent himself with requesting the lady in a low voice not to suffer herself to be sepa- rated from him. The lady had tact and knowledge of the world; she had seen the impatience and A ROMANCE. G3 anxiety of her protector to be gone — had marked the haste with which the two men followed him, and the disappointment visible in their faces on his re-appearance. A hint was sufficient, she was perfectly aware of her position, and prepared to act accord- ingly. In a few minutes Tornalina again made her appearance, and was eagerly watched by Herman, who could not but regard her, after all that had passed, as a friend who possessed the will, if not the power, to aid them. He saw or fancied that the uneasy and perplexed look had in some measure disappeared, and that her face now bore a more cheerful expression. Once or twice he thought she seemed to listen, as she stood in humble deference behind her female guest, as if in expectation of something or some one. Herman remem- bered w^ith no very agreeable feelings that it was perhaps Antonio, (whose return 64 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. Gomez had announced as certain,) that she expected. Yet, if she was indeed a friend to the strangers, why should she wish for the presence of one on whom their enemies confidently relied for aid against them? While he continued to harass himself with vain guesses and useless speculations, the deep-mouthed baying of a hound was heard, and then a second and a third joined in a booming chorus. At the first sound of this apparently un- expected noise, Gomez listened a moment, then sprang hastily from his seat and rushed to the door, exclaiming, " Dogs of the devil ! they're out again. Help me to catch them, Pedrillo ! " " Curse the dogs ! let them go," said the muleteer. " Let them go ! ' repeated the host indig- nantly. " Let them go ! " adding signifi- cantly as he disappeared through the door- A ROMANCE. 65 way : " When 7/ou want help, comrade, look elsewhere for it ! " The muleteer reluctantly followed, grind- ing between his teeth the pleasant epithets of, " Fool ! ass ! idiot !" as he, too, yanished. Tornalina also flew to the open door and listened, then turning with a joyful face, she exclaimed, " Now ! now ! Lose not a moment, but follow me ! Dear and honoured lady ! " she added, addressing her female guest, " hasten to quit this inhospi- table roof, where your liberty is threatened !" No farther warning was necessary ; they followed her instantly. Pausing again to listen when they had advanced a few steps, Tornalina, clapping her hands in youthful glee, burst into a merry laugh, exclaiming, "Ah, the good dogs ! How they go bounding and yelling down the mountain, to do the errand on which I have sent them. Ah ! they shall have a good supper when they come back ! " 66 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. Leading them round the reed fence where Herman had stood a short time before, and across a fold-yard at the back of the house, she said, pointing to a low wooden building, "There, Senor, are your horses and your man ! I have no key, but the door is not strong, you must break it open." To do this, it appeared, had already been tried by Fritz, who, having been made prisoner by stratagem, had been unwearied in his efforts to obtain his liberty ; but the door on the inside gave no purchase by which to shake it. The united efforts of master and man were at length successful, and the horses ready-saddled were led forth, but not mounted. " The path by which we must descend," said Tornalina, " is difficult and dangerous for horses. You must follow me on foot." Retracing their steps, they once again crossed the fold-yard, passed round the fence and by the door of the house, which she A ROMANCE. 67 entered, but staid only a moment to snatch up a piece of white linen, which, placed on her head, mantilla fashion, fell over her shoulders. With the ready-witted foresight inspired by the strong interest she felt in the fate of the strangers, and which supplied the place of experience in her simple and youthful mind, she foresaw this would be serviceable in her character of guide; for the moon, although still high in the heavens, was at times obscured by heavy clouds, leaving the travellers to grope their w^ay through one of those deep, black chasms wdiich intersect the mountains, on the side of which their path now lay — a narrow ledge of rock, wdth only level space enough to admit of their passing in single file, and sometimes so steep and broken as to render it almost im- passable. 68 TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. CHAPTER V. Slowly and cautiously the travellers con- tinued to follow the white and fluttering beacon borne bj the youthful guide, who preceded them through the wild and perilous rayine, after stopping to