LI B RARY OF THE UNIVERSITY or ILLINOIS 8X3 WiJf 1832 V.I THE THREE SPAJVIARDS, A ROMANCE. BY GEORGE WALKER, Author of the Vagabond, &c. &c. "Art thou any thingi Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil. That mak'st my blood cold, and my hair to standi Speak to me, what art thoul" — Julius Casar. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I, EXETER: J. C. GERRISH, PnsLisHKR. 1832, ?^3 Wl6t \S^Z THE V.I THREE SPAJVIARDS* CHAPTER I. Dark were his brows, und gloomy to the sight like clouds — His eyes like meteors of the night. Ossian. The Duke D'Alcanlery gave a splendid enter- tainment at his palace in Madrid, on occasion of a public exhibition, to which all the nobility and gentry were invited, in the true spirit of Castil- iaai magnificence and hospitality. Madrid scarce- ly before had witnesssed so great an assemblage of beauty ; and no person of note was absent. The night was beautiful and mild, such as the spring produces when warming into summer, and the gentle airs, that passed over a delightful gar- den, wafted a thousand perfumes through the gauze lattices which surrounded the large saloon, where the dancers were performing. The brilliance of dress shone amidst a blaze of tapers ; and large Venetian mirrors reflected and multiplied the va- rious groups, animated with ever changing motions with a sort of magic elegance; while the lively music of the orchestra awakened joy, and gave birth to pleasure in the coldest heart. In the midst of this festivity a stranger entered, conducting a young lady, whose modesty appear- ed to shrink from the enquiring gaze of so numer* ous an assembly. The stranger appeared a man of near sixty, unbent by the pressure of time; his featUTM were darkened by an heavy gloom which 4 THREE SPANIARDS. huDg upon bis brow. No smile iUaminated his countenance as he entered the temple of gaiety ; an'^; while he walked solemnly forward to the upper end, every eye bent upon him, and every tongue inquired who he could be. The young Marquis De los Velos was convers- ing with the Marquis Albert de Denia, when these interesting strangers entered. The Marquis of Denia started and turned pale as the strangers ad- vanced; but recovering himself, he attended with a smile to the observations of his friend. " What a charming lady!" said the Marquis de los Velos ; "do you observe the elegance of her form, the grace of her manner, and the modesty ex- pressed in blushes on her countenance." — " My dear Antonio," replied the Marquis, " do you pretend so much skill in female charms, as to form a judgment at this distance, and from a side view of the lady? Her veil half conceals her face; and you can but guess at what remains unseen." The lady, as if she had overheard this discourse, and was willing to comply with the curiosity of the gentlemen, turned her veil aside, and steading a timid glance round the company, her eyes rest- ed a moment on the two friends, and a visible con- fusion betrayed some secret emotion. " Now, my friend," said the Marquis de los Velos, "now are you satisfied with my judgment! What expressive eyes, what sensibility of soul do they betray. Did you mark that charming smile, when her eyes turned upon mel what tenderness did it not " I know not," replied the Marquis, coolly, " what intelligence there may be between you, for me I did not mark the smile you mention." — *'Ha! ha!" returned Antonio laughing, "you are jealous. Marquis. But observe, I speak first for her. favour." — It is what I shall not dispute with you," replied the Marquis of Denia, with a serious air; "she is, I believe, already engaged." "Engaged, how!" cried Antonio, with emo- THREE SPANIARDS. 5 tion. '♦ Te\l me to whom, and 1 will instantly dispatch him." — " Your intentions are excellent," replied the Marquis, preserving his gravity; '* but your willingness to fight lor the lady will not be rewarded: — your rival is infinitely superi- or to you — his claims are imperious, and undenia- ble — and no power on earth can resist them." — *' You jest. Marquis," replied Antonio. " I wish I could," said his friend, with a sigh; " you will find what I say literally true: — it is an intelli- gence I learned not many hours since." — " Then you know her," cried Antonio, with impatience; '* tell me every thing about her. Who is shel who is this rivall Where am I to find hira^ — introduce me to their acquaintance." " Pa- tience!" cried the Marquis of Denia, " I dare not introduce myself. Nothing can be more strange to me, than to see that gloomy Cavalier in this scene of joy ; his countenance is sufficient to damp the evenings entertainment." " You torture me," exclaimed Antonio; " Why do you trifle with me thusi" " T trifle with you!" replied the Mar- quis; "my dear friend you trifle with yourself. Go and select some lively partner, and think no more of a stranger whom you have now seen for the first time, and whom it is more than possible you will never see again." " Do they leave Madrid ihen so soon'? but I will follow them." " I think not," returned the Marquis; "she may remain in Madrid, and yet be concealed from your sight." "Ha!" exclaimed Antonio, "now' I begin to suspect! — they are going to seclude her in a con- vent. Is this the rival of which you told rael" " You have guessed but too truly," answered his friend. " This is what I am but now informed; but I know so well the temper and disposition of Don Tevaro Padilla, that I have no reason to doubt the truth." " But surely," said Antonio, were I to offer my hand, my rank, my titles, my domains, they would not be rejected.-' " I fear they would," aniwered the Miuqui.", with a deep sigh; "you know not this man ; his countenance is but a dark Inflection of a blacker heart- He is a man, in whose mind some terrible crime is perpetually preying." '♦• Bat what is thatcrimel'' demanded Antonio. The Marquis started at the question. "What crime!" repeated he. *• What crime id that which can harrow up the soul of man with fearful visions, that turn tranquility into warfare, and paint upon the serene brow the deformity of tempestl But this is no place to speak on a sub- ject such as this. Antonio, my dear friend, I have much to say to you, and will appoint a time. My introduction would be a drawback upon your wel- come: If, therefore, after what I have hinted, you have any further inclination of forming an ac- to a smile upon her lips. And is this lady to be condemned to the solitude of a cloistert is her beauty only to be admired by monksl is she to be the companion of cold, miserable and repining nunsl is she to waste her charms upon withering Time, within the walls of an unmerited prison^ — Omnipotent Disposer of human events! counteiact so barbarous an injustice!" While Antonio was lost in a reverie these reflec- tions inspired, the strangers had withdrawn; and, when on looking up he beheld their absence, lie started with disapfwintroent and apprehension that he had lost them for ever. He hastened to- wards the door, and stopping a gentleman then en- tering — " Which way did she gol" said he eager- ly, ♦* did you see theml" " Down the middle walk of the garden," replied the Cavalier: and immediately the Marquis hurried away, without waiting for further particulars. He advanced with hasty steps along the walk : dbcovering by moon light a female figure before . faim« whien from the shape he fancied was the lady be sought, though she now appeared with a long veil reaching nearly to the ground; his heart flut- tered with delight at this unexpected op|)ortunity, which he determined should not escape. •* Lady," said he, " this is a favour I had no hopes to receive from the hands of fortune. I have faeen in despair that I had no means of introduc- tion ; ^ad now, when I least expected, I find my- tielffor 30 instant happy in being able to sjHiak to you nnobserved . " *• O, Senor," answered the lady, *' this is too polite, you are excessively obliging." *' Not so," replied the Marquis, a little surpris- ed and greatly encouraged; " you must be aware, lady, thaU bcs^uty UKe pmn C»WM»t be »en with THREE SPANIARDS. & indifference." " Beauty like mine," repaed the lady in a self complacent tone; " really, Senor, vou are the gallantest man — " "Strange!" thought the Marquis, "what a deception is a female face : who would have thought so amiable an appearance should conceal such a character." " May I be permitted," con- tinued he, in a freer way than he had at first dar- ed to assume; " May I be permitted again to be- hold those charms which that odious veil conceals, before they shall be forever secluded in a gloomy convent.'' " Heaven forbid!" exclaimed the la- dy. " Holy Virgin, how you fright me! A con- vent, Senor! No, I am not old enough lor that I hope. No, no, believe me, I know better!" " Then I am again deceived," said Antonio to himself; " surely my friend would not have be- trayed me. But is this, indeed, the lady I have been so much enamoured of at first viewl am I not deceiving myself! If," said he, you are not bent upon entering a convent, why, lady, do you thus conceal yopr charms'! or is it in mercy to maiikindl" "O, I have a great deal of mercy in ray nature," replied she; " but you gay Cavaliers never make half so many compliments aa when our veils hide us from your curiosity. Beauty is always best when it is fancied, Senor," " But yours is no fancied beauty, lady; permit me to remove this drapery, and contemplate the reality. Heavens !" involuntarily exclaimed he, on beholding the haggard visage of an old la- dy, who had long since been the jest of half Mad- drid, for an affectation of manners and dress to which she had no pretensions, Antonio was too rquch confounded at his mistake and los3 of time to be polite; and the lady turned angrily away, railing on the ill-breeding of the present age. The Marquis was too much untuned to be in harmony with pleasure ; he sauntered along the walks of the garden, musing on the strange char- 10 THREE SPAMARDS. acter of Don Padilla ; and encouraging an bope» ihat however singular the behaviour ol his friend, he would be able to learn sufficient from him, at least, to introduce himself at the residence of the strangers. " He advanced nearer the saloon, where the laugh of hiliarity and the notes of joy sounded up- on his ear ; producing a sensation, which he had never before feh in its full force ; the stilness of the gardens increasing the contrast. The pale moon scattered its silver rays upon the foliage; amongst which scarcely a zephyr was heard to interrupt the silence of nature. The birds had hung their heads beneath their wings, and stilness reigned around — when he was sud- denly alarmed by repeated screams, and a burst of confusion mingled with cries of distress. He hastened to discover the occasion of the tu- mult; when he perceived one of the lattices in ilames, and at once understood the disaster that had happened. Ever alive to relieve the distress- ed, he hastened to the saloon, where so much con- fusion reigned, that every one retarded the other, and themselves, by pressing to be first. With a strong arm he tore down one of the window-framei which reached to the ground, and forcing his way in, found the mischief not half so extensive as he had feared — the fire having only taken hold on some ornamental scenery and the lattice frame. He was surprised to so? the Marquis of Denia busily employed in extinguishing the flame, while he had supposed him far distant; but, as he turn- ed round to speak to him, he distinguished the la- dy he had been seeking fainting upon a sopha, un- regarded by any one ; each being willing in tHe confusion to take care of themselves, or those more immediately interesting to them. Every other consideration gave way to regard for her safety : her senses were wholly overcome with the terror she had suffered; and, raising her in his arms, he endeavoured fo press through the THREE SPAINIARDS. 11 crowd, fearful that every moment might be too late, the heat and smoke being excessive, though the danger of the fire was over. It was impossi- ble to make way through the tumult, many of the ladies being in a similar state; and he had to re- main in the most agonizing suspense, till the Mar- quis of Denia came to his assistance. Between them they supported the unconscious maid into the garden, where the sudden change of air awoke her to recollection. " Ah! Cavalier," said she, in a tone of deepest ffoftness, as she fixed her eyes upon Denia, " is it to you I owe this obligation! But where is my fa- ther!" " Don Padilla," replied the Marquis, " was not in the room when the accident happened; be not concerned on his account, Almira, depend on his safety. But why are you in Madrid, when I had reason to believe you so many leagues distant^ and how is your sister 1" The Marquis De los Velos had till now sat upon a bench supporting the lady with his arms, and gazing upon her face with a countenance expres- sive of hope and despair ; but suddenly starting at this address of his friend, he felt a pang of jealousy cross his heart. " How is this Marquis!" said he, " do you deal treacherously 1 are you so well acquainted with this lady!" " Is this Cavalier your friend!" said she, turn- ing her -fine eyes upon Antonio, and speaking to the Marquis. " That is as he behaves," answered Denia with a smile; " he is apt to be very passionate, Senora ; and he is now angry that I should share with him the pleasure of having rescued you from the tn- mult." *' Confusion!" muttered Antonio, while he look- ed first upon one, and then on the other, unable to determine how much he should believe. " Pardon me, Senor," said Almira turning to him, " if I omitted you in my thanks to j'our 12 THREE SPAiMARDS. friend ; but, indeed, I am so confused that——." Her embarrasEment prevented her finishing tb« words she intended, and Albert de Denia to re- lieve her went on. *' This, Lady Almira, is the Marquis Antonio de los Velos ; a Cavalier, who, since he has formed an attachment to a Rtrange la- dy, has lost the use of his understanding, and '* *' Forbear I beg," cried Antonio impatiently: *' this is trifling beyond sufferance." Then turn- ing to Almira: Since, ".said he I have been so fortunate as to have again the pleasure of see- ing you, when my hopes were almost extinguish- ed, will you have the goodness to say when and where I may inquire after your health, which I Tery much fear will suffer from this night's sur- prisef" " At present," said Almira, in a low voice, "I am with my father at the palace of the Count Po- tenza; but I feel myself so much recovered, that I hof>e I shall find no farther ill effects. I confess I was very much terrified when 1 fancied the whole saloon in flames." " What a contrast does the present moment af- ford," said Antonio, pointing to the saloon, (where all was silent, and a solitary taper alone lighted, in place of a thousand that had lately blazed.) *' Not an hour since, and the whole was a scene of the most splendid brilliance and joy — no mind presaged the sudden event that was to overthrow the entertainment in terror and confu- sion: so in real life, we enjoy ourselves upon the brink of a precipice. Almira shuddered — a deep sigh acknowledged • the truth-— and looking round she perceived the Marquis of Denia had left them. Antonio felt obliged for this action of his friend. He hesitat- ed a moment, and then said, " Can it be true, la- dy, that you have chosen to retreat from tlie world at an age when you are but scarce entered into it**' **And should such a choice surprise!" answer- ed Almira: " is it not necessary, if I would avoid THREE SPANIARDS. 13 the application of what you have but just spoken. I know but little of the world ; yet from that lit- tle I have learnt the transience of human happi- ness, and have seen, that when we fancied our- selves most certain of pleasure, we have been near- est distress." "And have you known sorrow^" said Antonio tend«,'rly, and taking her hand. " Hard must have been the heart that could have given grief to such a s.jbject! But do not forget, that to the world we have some duties that clnim us from ourselves, and V iiich are inimical to monastic seclusion." '* True, most true," answered Almira, with a sigh. " But the first duty of a daughter is obedi- ence ; and I must obey the commands of my fa- ther." The last word was scarcely pronounced, when her voice dropt in silence, and the figure of Don Padilla stood before them. '"Where have YOU b«'-p'^"^lid he sternly.— '" iia! follow Die, daughter " Then oei^ing 11,1? hand of the trembliiig maid, tie stalked indi^:nant- ly away, Avithout deigning to notice Antonio. " Strange?" thought the Marquis. " What a monster to use with such severity a lady whom I would gladly protect in my arms; and who, if my judgment is clear, is exactly the companion I should wish to share my idle hours, and the boun- ties which Heaven, thro' the means of my ances- tors, has bestowed upon me." Tiie company had some time left the gardens ; and finding it late he departed, intending to call upon his friend early in the morning for an expla- nation of several sentences he could not under- stand; and which, by turns, gave birth to jeal- ousy, curiosity, and doubt. He imputed much to the incomprehensible character of tlie Marquis ; who was often remarked by his friends as incon- sistent in his actions and expressions: sometimes overwhelmed with impenetrable sadness, and at others mingling with the gayest company. 14 THREE SPANIARDS. As Aotoulo passed along the streets which were now solitary and forsaken, he perceived two men in close conversation standing at a corner : he. made little doubt of their being robbers, as he could perceive them looking round while they spoke Avith apparent anxiety. Being on the dark aide of the way, and the moon shining bright, he had an oppoitunity of observing them unseen— lia paused to reflect, whether he should watch them, or give the alarm to the guard. While he consid- ered a third person joined them, and after a few words, they crossed the sti'eet, and began to move quickly towards t!ie place where Antonio stood. Antoiiio doubted not but be was discovered; and, (•lapping his hand upon his sword, stood upon iiis giiiird. The first person who came near immediately perceived him, and said in a low voice, *' Anto- nio De los Velos, follow me." " For what purpo.-el" demanded Afttonio; " and whither V — '• For my pleasure, and where I please," answered the other, in a rough voice. " That must be as I please too," said Antonio drawing. "Vou may perhaps think your num- bers will frighten me — come on!" " Ha ! ha ! ha ! ' ciied the stranger, laughing; •' well, you are a man of metal," and Antonio im- mediately knew the voice of his friend. " You again!" cried he; "you are wrapped in mystery to-night : but who .are those in your trainl" *' Your servant and mine," replied the Mar- quis. When I first quitted the room 1 put ther upon the scent to find the dwelling of Don Pad:, la; not having any expectation we should hav<; had an opportunity of aiscovering it ourselves : am', now if you ai'e not inclined to sleep, we will go ;u my palace." " You are a clever fellow at intrigue," said An- tonio; "but tell me. Marquis, and on honor, if ^11 this trouble is on mine, or your own account V' THREE SPANIARDS. 15 *♦ Can you not be contented with the benefit of the eyent, without inquiring the motivel" return- ed Albert. •' It was both; both, my dear Anto- nio ; bury your suspicions, and remember I am your friend." They were not long before they arrived at the Marquis de Denia's; where having taken some refreshment, they provided a couple of bottles of wine, the Marquis dismissed the servants to bed, and carefully locked the door. " You make use of great precaution," said An- tonio, looking round him; " is it treason you are going to debate uponl" " No," answered Albert, solemnly, it is not treason; yet it is not fit for every mortal ear: the mysteries of fate are unsearchable ; and we know not the manner in which the darkest deeds meet the light." •' Deeds of whatl" said Antonio, gazing with surprise upon his friend. " What is it you sayl what has this to do with Almira V *• Much, perhaps too much," said the Marquis, drawing his chair to the table. *' But now, An- tonio, look at the hand of the clock; it is upon the hour of one ; at this dread hour of midnight promise me secrecy. — Swear to me- " " But where there is no crime, can secrecy be necessary," observed Antonio ; and where there is a crime, secrecy becomes a fault. You are strangely altered witliin these few minutes. Mar- quis." *' I am," replied Albert, " my levity is always assumed. I have at my heart a corroding poison that chills the moments of my existence, and dash- es from me the cup of pleasure, when I attempt to raise it to my lips. I once had a friend, the con- fidant of my soul — but he is now lost tome, aod 1 would take you in his place." " You are in love, then!" exclaimed Antonio, with a languid smile. '< I see where this will end." •• I am in love," replied the Marquis, emphat- 16 THREE SPANIARDS. ically ; *' but not, as you imagine, with Almita; therefore your heart may rest. Did you ever hear that I could be guiky of a dishonorable act 1 The secret that I would trust you with, has little rela- tion to any thing your warmest lancy can suggest. Will you promise me thenl" " 1 heartily acknowledge, I never knew you guilty oi'a meanness," replied Antonio. "Tosay the truth, could such a suspicion have had being in my mind, you had never called me friend : yet, at the same time, this ceremony seems as though you doubted me. But to humour you, I swear — Dy the holy mass, never will I, without your ow« consent, reveal what you shall now disclose!" " Tis enough," said the Marquis, taking his hand, "From this moment let there be the most unlimited confidence between us. Prepare yoiu- self to give credit to tlrings which require your faith ; and remember, that it is the Marquia Al- bert de Denia who relates them." He paused ; and, looking solemnly round the room, leaned his arm upon the table, and tlius be- gan. CHAPTER II. Ye unknown Pow'rs which hover round mankind Guard us, when Fate sits brooding in the wind. " You must remember Fernando de Coello, who was my particular friend from our earliest youth; his family is noble, and, I believe, he is a distant relation of yours." «* He is my first cousin," said Antonio; ** and his sudden death gave me considerable grief," "You surprise me," cried the Marcjuis; '* tell me howl— when did you receive this informa- tionr' THREE SPANIARDS. 17 *• I can lay nothing for certain,** aniwered An- tonio, '• my information readies merely to the re- Sert, that he was slain in a battle with the loors.'* " Report is a common liar, ' said the Marquis; ** I am glad to find you are not better informed. I will DOW proceed. — When we were extremely young we served together in the army and were rarely asunder but when duty, or our visits to our friends in Madrid, required. This compan- ionship in dangers, in romantic adventures, and the variety to which a soldier's lite is ever liable, at once endeared us to each other, and opened our minds to that genial and genuine friendship which, like love, renders trifles of great importance, and eives birth to that communication of fancy, hero- ism used to inspire. The leisure of a camp gave our minds opportu- nity to trace the histories of preceding times; and if we were not tinctured with superstition, we, at least took delight in romance. Having been to chastise some insurgents in the provinces, we were qurrtered in the city of Grenada. The beauty of that charming country, and the extensive prospect from the mountains of Sierra Nivada, covered with vegetation, and crowned with eternal snow, frequently invited us to ramble. Sometimes we climbed the heights, and gratifi- ed our senses with contemplating a region of en- chantment. The hills were overspread with vines and olives ; the rallies were clothed, and odorife- rous, with a thousand flowering shrubs, of which the hedges are formed: sweet basil intermingled with myrtle. Thyme and lavender grew wild upon the wastes; and the golden tinted saffron de- lighted the eye, amidst a profusion of flowers. The Mediterranean closed the distant prospect with its blue waves; over which the adventuroui bark was frequently seen to glide, like a dark •pot on its pellucid surface. Our duty at tlM castW of Alkambra waa triflkigj ▼OL. I. 3 18 THREE SPANIARDS. not being a part of the garrison ; and we conie- quently had much time upon our hands to indulgo our propensity for rambling. On one of those oc* caaions, we walked beyond the city to a consider- able distance, following the winding banks of the Darro, amused with the variety of scenery it pre- sented, when we arrived at a grove of tall chesnut trees we had never visited before. The coolness of the shade invited us to rest ; and we sat down on the flowery bank (which sloped to the river) regarding the transparent current as it passed, and discoursing on those adventures of which, as sol- diers, we had many to recount. While we admired the beauty of the fertile country, which now presented to our sight, the turrets of several ruined buildings recalled to va the distress which the Morescos had suffered, when driven from the country of their birth, and the lands of their cultivation, by an edict at once cru> el and impolitic ; and which had converted, in a few months, this whole province into a howling waste, filled it with rapine and slaughter, torn hus« bands from their wives, and children from theii I»rents, rent asunder the bands of friendship anc civil union, and banished more than nine hundrec thousand people to the deserts of Africa. While we were discoursing on this subject, ant expressing our indignation at its folly, we perceiv ed a small boat floating down the stream, appa rcntly without any guide ; and, as the eddy of tht waves set it towards the shore where we sat, i could not but excite our attention. ** Now for a famous adventure of knight erran* try," said Fernando ; "who knows but some re- doubtable magician has sent his enchanted boat, to convey us to some terrible castle, where a fair lady waits the event of our prowess, to be delivered from the Tyrant of the Ironhand." I smiled at this conceit, and, in the thoa|;ht of the moment, replied, "Well, Sir Knightj if your be aaoaunted, «ad jrou dare brave the THREE 3PANIARDS. I'J perils of the adventure, I require you on the faitb of a knight good and true, to accompany me in tho achievement of this adventure." " Most willingly, sir knight, be it unto life or nnto death, I will accomplish the exploit," cried Fernando with humour, leaping into the boat, trhich the waves had driven close to the bank. I did not remain behind — and we put off into the middle of the current. The vessel of which we had thus taken posses- sion was a small pleasure-boat, and seemed to have drifted from its moorings, there being but one oar on board, which served merely to guide» without advancing our progress ; an accident which added to our amusement, as it seemed we were wholly to depend upon chance. A bottle of excellent brandy, and some Italian sweetmeats stored our bark: which we received as an intimation that modern knights were not expected to live «pon love and air, like ancient heroes. The day being extremely fine, we took much pleasure in our ad- venture: wo continued our voyage, slowly wind- ing amongst tho romantic scenery, which now ap- I)eared level with the water, and now overhung- the liquid mirror, which inverted and reflected the foliage in lengthened and darkened groves. We beheld the ruins of several Moorish palaces and castles at a distance, and passed a few vessels laden witli grain and oil. Our bark moved insen- sibly along, gliding beneath the dark cliffs, which were crowned with ever-green laurels. The spires of Grenada were lost far behind us ; and it was not till towards evening we remembered the neces- sity of our return. With some diflSculty we put the boat round, and we then found the truth of that proverb, which tells us — it is easiest to swim with the stream. We were at a considerable distance from the city, and, to' mend our situation, the wind began to blow very strong. II was now we began to repent our adveotuse from the far distant ocean, tlirough which his purple beams eseemed to break with difficulty, tinging the borders with flame, the mountains and forests caught tlie fervid reflection, glowing witli a partial and transient lustre. The wind hurried us along; and the waves began to rise, with an eddy that was far from pleasant to such unskilful mariners in an open boat. •• This is likely to be no comfortable adven- ture," said Fernando; "I would we had remain- ed on known ground, and not trusted ourselves we know not where. If we should chance to fall up- on any of those straggling parties of insurgents which still remain lurking in secret places it may not be so pleasant." I was not more satisfied with our situation ; but taking up j^e brandy, " Come, my friend," said I, " this is an enchanted liquor, furnished by our invisible guide for the banishment of care." Hav- ing refreshed ourselves with the remains of the sweetmeats, we sat still, looking out anxiously for some place of shelter, and watching the quick ap- proacn of night. The sun was not long sunk beneath the horizon before the rain began in large drops to patter on the surface of the water. We would then wil- lingly have put on shore, content with the shelter of the trees, but here it was so broken and rocky, that we durst not venture the slight vessel too near, lest it might be bulged by the force of the wind and stream, which drove us forward at a rapid rate. In half an lunir we perceived, through the gloom THREE SPANIARDS. H that enTeloped us, the ruins of a Moorish castle, which projected boldly to the water's edge. The main tower, which was circular, appeared nearly complete, but the other parts of the building pre- sented only an extensive mass of ruins, spreading over a large space of ground. We were by this time nearly wet through, ncft- withstandiiig a piece of old sail cloth« which we had contrived to spread over us. The storm had not, however, yet arisen to its height the great body of clouds moving on very heavily, and we endeavored to incline the boat towards this ruin, which might, at least, shelter us from its fury. We found ourselves unexpectedly in a strong cur- rent, which set forcibly towards the foot of the tower ; and we began to be apprehensive it might wreck us on the rocks. " This is truly astonishing, Marquis," said Fer- nando; " what are v/e now to think of this ad- venture!" *' There wants nothing but a twinkling taper from some of the loop-holes, a guardian dragon, and a drawbridge," returned I, " to complete it. But seriously, I wish we were well over the night. That pile bears upon it the marks of violence, and Mo doubt its dark recesses are a retreat of some disaffected party." " Of them I have no fear," replied Fernando; ** we have each of us a sword that has been tried, and done service; I am resolved to finish the ad- venture. We have hitherto been conducted in a very singular way; and though, my friend, we may smile at enchantment, and magic, and spells, yet there are mysteries in nature with which we are unacquainted. I myself " He suddenly checked himself at these words; and I could not avoid smiling at his manner, which I imputed to the concurrence of circumstances, :nich as might have generated superstition in any man. Th« night, from the blackness of the clouds, wa« ^ THREE SPAMARDS, profoundly dark ; and we remained a few momefito in silence. ** Now," said he, "will you believel the boat has fixed upon the stairs which lead from the wa- ter edge up the rock to the castle. — What can this meani" " Mean," replied I, ** it means nothing extra- ordinary. Do you not perceive, that the current we are fallen into is caused by the water running into the moat which surrounds the building 1 let us endeavor to make it fast, and try to find a shel- ter." Fernando remained silent, gazing upon the tow- er, which appeared as if blc^ckened by fire, and awfully gloomy through ^e storm; being only distinctly visible when the flashes of lightning re- flected against its sides. After groping some time with the oar, I discovered a ring, to which we fas- tened the boat, and ascended the stone steps, cut in the solid rock — a dozen brought us to the land- ing. The lightning served us for a guide ; distin- guishing a small porch entire, within which we found the postern gate broken down, leading into the tower. Within the deepest darkness prevailed; and it was at the utmost hazard we ventured to advance, arm in arm, with our swords extended before us, to avoid, if possible, running against any projec- tion, or falling down some flight of steps. In this manner we advanced along a narrow passage, till we were checked by a s'tair that we judged wound up to the higher apartments. After a moment's consideration, we resolved to hazard the event — curiosity impelling us onwards. The place being narrow, I advanced first, cau- tiously proceeding, when, on a sudden 1 foimd my- self violently seized by the arm; and Fernando in a low voice, demanded if I heard nothing! " Death!" cried I, " what do you hearl what, r>T who have you suffered to passl" At the same timt I «ndeavored to release my anq from tit* THREE SFAMARDS. 2S graepof i knew not what; but which, to my im- agination, seemed to hold me stronger than a doz- en men. " Nothing has passed," replied Fernando; "it is I who have hold of your arm: — Heavens how you tremble ! did not you hear a noisel" " You," said I, checking my vexation and in- clination to laugh; " on my word, I thought my- self in the paws of some fiend; it is in vain to de- ny it. But what did you hear!— Hark! — surely I heard a hollow murmuring sound ! We had better retreat and brave the storm." " No," replied Fernando, *' no ; we will either advance or perish." I felt assured at this confi- dence, and ashamed of my own fears. ** Come on then," said I, "my brave fellow ! we have beforo this entered a breach together, and shall we be a- fraid because it is dark, and the wind sighs along the passages 1" This flight of stairs led to a landing, which op- ening wide, we fancied ourselves in some chamber, and paused while the thunder rolled over us, and ■honk the building to its base. The lightning that flashed through the long nar- row loop-holes allowed us to distinguish a few ob* jects, which were seen for a moment, and then in- Tolved in tenfold darkness. No furniture appear- ed in the room, except a broken bench, the head of a rusty pike, and a Moorish turban. We sat down upon the bench, leaning upon our ■words, and watching more attentively than if sur- rounded by an hostile camp. Several times we fancied that some voice passed along the wind, which loudly sounded through tlie avenues; now howling along the passages, and then dying away in gentle sighings. Amidst the intermission of the thunder, we heard the lashings of the waves against the shore, and the rain poured down in rushing torrents. A vivid flash of lightning, which seemed to sleep vpuu th« floor, for a f«w momeoUi wboUy illumia- U THREE SPANIARDS. ated the chamber; and the succeedins flaahes oe- cnrred with such quick succession, that a constant blaze filled the chamber. *♦ What is thatl" said Fernando, in a whisper. « Wherel" demanded I. " Look in that corner to the right, Albert,'* said he. " Do you not see that dark bundle'?— It ia either a murdered traveller, or some person wrapped in a cloak. — Most probably some lob* ber," whispered he. *• I see It," replied I, and the next instant the lightning again left us in total darkness. " Let us plunge our swords into him while he sleeps," added I, in a low voice; " we must prevent him doing us a mischief in the dark." *• Not so neither,'' whispered Fernando, " it may be some innocent stranger : at most he is but one to two, let us advance cautiously, and examine him before be shall awake and alarm his comrades if he has any.*' We proceeded gently across the floor, which creaked beneath our feet. I stooped down, and took hold of the dark wrapper. A burst of thun- der, which rolled and broke over the roof with a tremendous crash, caused me to start away with involuntary horror. " Perhaps," said Fernando, in a low solepm voice, " it is for me this strange bnsvnees is re- served — I will examine the bundle." He tiaced cautioasly over it, to discover if it owned a human shape, and pressing his hand upon it, it made, no other resistance than a bundle of cloth, and he be- came satisfied it was no human being. It was boond round with a leathern belt, which he cut through with his sword, and shaking it by the middle, something fell heavy upon the ground, and and a piece of melal rolled to a distance. "Hush!" said he, "I thought 1 heard a sound!" " Very probable," said I; "-'tis mo?t likely the robbers to whom this booty belongs, and our curi- •wty will be rewarded." I stepped a liitle on doe THREE SPANIARDS. 29 ■Ido to prepare for an attack, the wind being so loud that I frequently fancied voices and footsteps were approaching: my foot hit against something hard, and stooping down, I found it to be a dagger without a case. I drew it through my fingers to judge of its size and shape ; and, from its rough- ness, fancied it to be rusty. " Yes," said Fernando, with a sigh so deep, tha' it almost amounted to a groan: " no doubt it is rusty — dipped in the blood of some innocent, by the hand of rapine or revenge: — give it me - I will preserve it." I could not but admire the strange alteration he had undergone within these Cevr hours ; and though he appeared more forward and hardy tlran myself, I could not but fancy it was ex- cess of fear, which I had often seen produce the greatest shew of bravery. It was now past midnight, the storm was evi- dently going further, and the lightnings flashed at a distance through the horizon. " I fear," said I, " for our little bark, which is most likely dashed to pieces against the rocks, and we shall have Bome difficulty in returning to Grenada." •'That same Power," replied Fernando, *• which conducted us here, can lead us back." " And are you really of opinion, my friend, "an- swered I, " that an invisible Power did lead us to this ruined castlel" " I am most certain," said he, and paused as if musing on some distant thought. •' Then you believe in magic"? you believe that intangible beings can acton corporeal substancel'* " I do. I have reasons, my friend; reasons that would convince yourself." '* I would then willingly hear them," said I j "I have been your companion these five years, in toils, in hardships, and in dangers, and you never in- formed me of this." " Never," replied he gravely: '* I endeavored myself to forget, but this strange adventure re» mrOB my memory strong upon me, and harrows » THREE fiPAMAllDS. up tny imagination. I will speak low; for 1 eua satisfied this place has inhabitants; but whether the^ be mortal or no, I know not." I had no mind to interrupt him, for his gravity, and the solemni- ty of the impenetrable darkness, conspired to raise images of horror. ** Do you remember, nine months ago, upon this very day, I entered the age of manhood; and was interrupted in our intention of keeping that event with a little least amongst our comrades, by an order to join a party going out to foragel Do you not remember, that I returned to you so pale and altered that you hardly- knew mel and that I imputed the cause to a sudden illness which had eeized me!" " I remember," said I. ** And so do I," continued he, *• I shall remem- ber it for ever! Our way lay through a deep de- file, overhung with gloomy cork-trees, and so in- tricate that we feared every moment falling into aa ambuscade. The pass was so gloomy that it ap- peared like the twilight of evening, and not being the chief in command, I halted in the rear, to see that no stragglers remained behind. When the whole party had passed I followed into the defile; the sound of steps behind me, caused roe to turn round, when I perceived another soldier apparent- ly lame ; yet, I thought he moved forward amaz- ingly quick for a wounded man. I was a little surprised, as I had not observed nay man behind, and halted till he came up, in- tending to reprimand him for his negligence. •* What's the matter," cried I, " that you bang so far behind your comrades 1 what accideirt have you met with l" *' Fernando Coello,'' said be in a tone like. that of a dying man, " I have received a mortal bl^w^ you alone can relieve me." .- ; " How is that to be done, friend 1" inquired I; ** where are you hurtl" *' D«ep» de^y' said be; "myburt i« iMre: THREE SPANIARDS. 27 ktyiog bis handd upon his breast. '* 'Tia yoa alone can cure me. — Promise me you will." ** Why should I promise you'?" said I. '* I am no surgeon, hut I will see you properly taken care of." He shook his head and sighed. "You ■urely would not have me promise what I cannot perform 1" " You can," answered he; you alone can. You must promise me, Fernando Coello : this is your birth day, and you shall promise me." *' But why ] who are youl" demanded I, aston* ished at the familiarity of a man dressed like a common soldier. •* Who I am signifies not," returned he in an elevated voice: " such as I am may you never be. Many are my wrongs and my wounds are deep You, you, Fernando Coello, are the man in all the earth who must redress me. Promise that you will. Swear by the rolling orbs, by the great deeps of the earth's foundation — Swear—" " You are mad," said I, alarmed at his man> ner: "You talk strangely." "But I am not therefore mad," replied he, " every thing about me is strange : strange as the grave. But fate, deep and dark, terrible and eter- nal fate sits over your house, unless you give me this promise.'* " Tell me quick dien," said I, "what am I to do, the troops are proceeding, and I shall be too late." " You will be, indeed, too late^" replied he, " if you do not resolve instantly. The fortune of your house depends on the decision of this moment. Give me your word, or die. I cannot describe to you how strangely I waa affected : there was something so shockingly sol- emn in his voice, that it pierced to my inmost soul: and, believing that there could be nothing very particflar in promising my aid to a wounded man, I replied — I grant your request: I promise to right your wrongs if I have the power, aod to riir* vonr r.'itmH*. it'T hAr9 l!« moarii. 28 THREE SPANIARDS. •«Yoa are mine! You are mine! Vou are mine!** cried he, three times, in a voice of exultation. ** ttive me your hand." I held out my hand, and he took hold of it • but his touch was the touch of death, damp and clammy, and cold, it chilled my veins, creeping through them with indescribable horror. At that moment 1 heard tl)e trumpet sound to a quick march, and turning round my face, 1 looked again, and no one stood near me. 1 was stiuck with so much astonishment (for had this appearance been human, I am certain it could not have escaped me.) that, though we had a sniHit action \\iththe enemy, the impression re- mains indelible. " Have you never heard or seen any thing since of this sliange apparition 1" said 1: "are you certain your imagination was not deluded with chimeras'?" "Certain," replied he: "till the adventure of this night, I had hoped never to see or hear faither: but now I fear 1 shall be called on to the peiformance of that fatal promise. This dag- ger What sound is that 1 I am ceitain 1 heard a st-ep." " Some one advances," said I, " bo prepared." We sat still, scarcely venturing to breathe. A slow step advanced up the stairs, and entered the chamber. It passed distinctly across the room, pausing as if to listen between every step, till it went through the opposite avenue. It was not till then Fernando acquired courage to speak. " Who knows," said 'he, " but this may be the wounded soldierl yet what should he do herel" " J rather think," said I, " that it is some as- sassin, or Ireebooter in the dark. Who goes there" said I aloud. " Who goes therel" replied a voice in the sam« tone. " Answer me!" cried I, " are you a friendl" " Are you a friends" returned the voice. "This k strange!" said FernaDdo in a whis- per: then speaking aloud, " If you are a firieiwt THREE SPANIARDS. » adrance!^ •' Advance!" returned the voice, nnd again all was silent. " This is most singular," observed Fernando in a whisper, " do you hear any sound of fciotsteps?'' " iNone,'" answered 1: " I did nut ol)serve which way the person went, w\w I aai certain passed u.5. 1 will find it out!" cried Fernando aloud. " Find it out !" replied the voice. " This is a very good-natured spirit," said I, glancing at once upon the truth ; " when you gpeak ahove the common tone, the hollow pile re- echoeri the sound." We then repeated aK»ud sev- eral sentences, admiring the eflect which had so startled us: but we could not, by this means, ac- count for the person who had certainly crossed the chiimber. The grey line of dawning day breaking over the distant hills, we began' to lose much of our ap- prehension, and to feel a curiosity to examine the building which had so much excited our fears. Through thp narrow loop hole we watched the distant and gradual increase of light, dispersing the blue mists which curled over the hills: where, yet, no prominent feature could be distinguished. When the light rendered objects perceptible, we ventured to ascend the winding stairs, which led to the battlements: where we were enchanted with the beauty of the prospect. The cool fra- grant air of the morning breathed over the reviving plants: whose colours, by the rain of the night, were enlivened and deepened. The flowers began already to open their leaves to the com'ing day: and the clear sky assumed the blush, which fore- runs the approaching sun. We beheld at a great distance the turrets of Gronada, and which ever way the eye turned, the senses were delighted with a profusion of vegeta- tion. We were not without some apprehension of the person who had passed us in the night, as he prob- My was lurking iu some secret part of the buii4> THREE SPANIARDS. log or might have joined his comrades, with ia- tent to fall upon us with a force we should be un> able to withstand. Our boat we saw beneath us a wreck upon the landing place, and we descended again to our chamber, to consult on our mode of proceeding. The bundle we had half examined in the night, now attracted our attention. On the floor, at some distance, lay a small portrait, which had fal> len. Fernando took it up^ and holding it to the light, exclaimed, " What an admirable counte- nance! what expression! what tenderness! Ah!'* my friend, if the original lives, and I could find her I would immediately engage for life.*' ** I should smile to see you in love with a pic- ture," said I: "but how came it h'erel" *'HowI" cried he, with a look of horror. "Ah! Marquis, you have awakened in my breast the most cruel anguish. Surely no ruffian hand could deform so lovely a countenance — a countenance that might charm fiends into admiration.'' " But she is dressed in the Moorish fashion; she is perhaps one of those who have suffered from the edict of Philip," said I. ** Pray do not name it," replied Fernando; "the very suspicion kills me. Look at that mouth — Heavens! what an inimitable smile! the very lips seem parting, to speak a sentiment of kindness!'' I advanced, and opening the bundle, found it to consist of a Moorish dress, veiy much spoiled with damp and time, and stained in several places with blood. ** This is not a lady's dress," said I, " it has most likely belonged to some traveller, and that is the portrait of his mistress. I do not admire this dismal looking place; ii is more horrible by day, than by night — murder seems written upon the walls, and violence sits upon the battlements!— Let us go." Fernando still examined the picture, which ha •ould not enough admire; at length hia tt tt e n ti o o THREE SPANIARDS. 81 taraed upon the bundle which I was separating, and he agreed with me, that it could not have lam in 60 exposed a situation fur the time ; the fashion distinguished its form, or it would have, at least, been rotten with damp : it appeared more proba- ble that it had been brought thither by some free- booter ; and was not unlikely to belong to the person we were certain had found concealment somewhere, as we had noticed his ascent, but had beard no more of him. *' We will endeavor to find him," saidFernan- do; ** most likely he can give an account of this picture, and that fatal habit, stained with blood, and pierced, most likely, with this dagger." From the little corridor two stairs presented; the one narrow and winding, leading immediately to the battlements ; the othei-, the main staircase to the upper rooms. All the doors had been burnt or broken down by violence, piesenting a free pas- sage over the whole tower. We ascended without difficulty, and entered the higher suit of rooms, consisting of three chambers. We looked round with suspicious care, but not the smallest vestige of an inhabitant appeared. We examined the flooring, that no secret trap-door might escape us —most of these antique structures have very sin- gular concealments. We were upon the point of returning, when Fernando remarked the traces of muddy feet upon the floor, and we followed them into the second chamber, where we suddenly lost them ; nor could all our skill discover any possible place of concealment, or way of escape. Tired with so fruitless a search, we returned to the first chamber, and thence to the ground floor, cautiously examining every place that promised any information, and carrying with us tke gar- ments we had found. From the extensive piles of ruins, and many ial ' len columns of marble, it was easy to trace the once magnificent and extensive^tructure. The marka of ira were vliible upoa the whole ; and it waa M THREE SPANIARDS. probably the great solidity of the remainiag tow«r which had rescued it from the geueral conflagra* tion. Not being able to make any farther discorery, wfc began on foot our journey back to Grenada. I knew not what to think of the story Fernando bad told me ; because, though I was as certain of his veracity as though 1 hud been myself witness of the fact, yet so long a time having passed without further intimation, induced me to fancy there must have been some deception, which the gloominess of the defile had favored: then, on the other hand, our recent adventure bore every mark of supersti- tious romanticity, tliough it might yet be no more than a curious concurrence ot circumstances. At Grenada we made several inquiries concern- ing the Moorish castle; but gained no iuforiuation relating to our adventure. We learnt that it had formerly been a palace belonging to a Moorish prince ; that it had since descended to the family of Ferendez, and had £• nally been burnt under the edict of Philip, as af- fording shelter to the resisting party. CHAPTER III. Harke! the ravenne flappes hys wynge In the briere'd delle belowe; Harke! the dethe-owl loude dothesynge To the nyghte-raares as heie go. Chatterton. Fernando became every day more enraptured with the portrait^ visiting every place of public resort, from the church down to the lowest public walks, in hones of meeting, if not the original, at least, some ngure which might distantly approach. He frequently complained to me of the cruel bib-. THREE SPANIARDS. U gnlarity of his fate, in not so much ns knowing whether bis mistress vwe li/ing or dead, yoiing or old. I constantly ridiculed thia singular whim : and as our troops were soon to quit Grenada, I advised him to throw away the picture and the dagger ,and laugh witli me at the whole adventure. He be- came more reserved in his behavior; and I was not sorry to be less troubled with his wonders and conjectures about the origin of the miniature, which he would willingly hive m-ide the constant theme of our discourse. In about a fortnight we quitted Grenada; and, after a tedious march of some days, ent6red the prorince of Andalusia. At the first village on the road we halted with as many men as the place would receive ; the rest of the party going forward. As we entered the yard of our inn, we found a travelling fortune-teller; one of those men who sell amulets and charms, who vend amongst eoun* try peasants philtres to procure affection, and are a nuisance in every society where they are tolera- ted. He was mounted on a tub in the inner yard and suiTounded with a gaping crowd of villageri and muleteers, who were amused with his gro- tesque gestures, and eager to buy his drugs. We look our station a little on one side, admir- ing the simplicity of the peasants, who believed him first physician to the Emperor of China. " la it possible," said I to Fernando, *• the credulity of mankind can be so absurd, as to believe a man who, by his own account, is the richest upoo eartli, and who yet will play more tricka iiiza a baboon for a maravidiel" He overheard this observation ; for our figure had attracted his attention, and turning audde; ' round, " Senors," said he, with a penetrati look, *♦ I know that which you want to kognnr. The secrets I poseess bo other man inherits." Fernando ioinaediately tooT; thia epoech to Jji*- wlf> wbiob, in £ict, wq» m mKkt tbu tl« fMiBtr«l VOL. I. a t4 THREE SPANIARDS. o«nt of these fellows ; but the perplexity of ht« mind made him catch at every thing that incIintKi towards mystery. ** Let us now enter," said he, "and refresh ourselvea, we will examine this man after the villagers are gone." " Very well," answered I, " we will both have our fortuueti told. The rogue has seen by ourdresf that we are of quality, and will make his guesses accordingly; but, in the first place — here Host ! what have you got for supper 1" The Host was a jolly dark-complexioned fellow, and thrastiof his hands into his belt, he replied, " Please you, my Senors, it grieves me to say how bare we are at present of provisions. These doctors carry such a train with them, that every thing is swept away where they come. I verily believe all the pigs and fowls in Andalusia would not stay their stomachs a fortnight; and then, a« to salads, they cleared my whole garden in a night like a swarm of locusts." *'Have you got any eggs'? — Can we have wny omelet," demanded Fernando. " No, Senors," Ireplied he, bowing, " I have not an egg, nor any onions, nor garlic; and beside, it is not a fast-day, so that we have no fish in the whole village." " Do you know usl" cried Fernando impatient- ly : ** Do you know it is at your peril thus to treat the King's officers. ** I crave vour mercy," replied the host. •• I «n sure sucli worthy Cavaliers cannot expect something from ndtliing ; and if I had the super- h«6i larder nobody should be more heartily wel- come." *• Well, well," cried I, impatiently," " no pr^.t- ,_, ing, it's easy to see what you are aiming at, you .7^^ not expect us to |jay you. 1 promise you w* nan not quarter on you fur nothing; only stir yonryself/and let us have the conjurer to supper«" **'Ti8 done, Senors, 'tis done: I always wtp a^selTwitb the conjurer.' I wilt endeavour to ore- ▼mi! on him In part w'lih his sbate. Some of h'iii THREE SPANIARDS. 96 train have beeo out to forage, and they never re- turn empty. Meanwhile, Senors, what do you Bay to a manchet, and a bottle of the right Barce- lona." " Fetch it quickly," said Fernando, and the host instantly disajipeared. We had scarcely en- tered into the question we proposed to put to the conjurer, when the host returned with the wine, and holding it up to tlie light, " By the mass," said he, " but this is the right sort, as clear as fountain water, and as strong as p.qua vitw. I never uncork a bottle of this, but when some of his majesty's officers honor me with a call. I' 11 be your taster if you please." We were entertained with his humor, so differ- ent from the stiff and grave manner of Castilians, and we diverted ourselves with inquiring about his neighbors, and listening to half a-dozen tales of village scandal. " Now, this," said he, tak- ing his glass very familiarly, "is what I like: this tells me, Senors, that you have seen the world — so have I, for that matter. The other day, there came here a gruff old Don, proud as a bashaw, and grim as a starving wolf. Marching here and there, and saying nothing to nobody, he looked for all the world' like a man going to be hanged. His servants, indeed told me, that he goes once a year to Grenada to do penance lor his sins. Sure enough he looked like a murdeier." "A murderer!" repeated Fernando,"didyou say he was a murdererl'' " No, Cavalior," replied the host, *' I said he looked Ilka one, (and 1 have seen murderers in It- aly:) but a man is not always to be taken by his looks: or else, Senor, under fivor, we should some of ns be in as bad a case as Don Grim." "You make very free v/ith your guest, I think," said I. "Not more so than I wish them to be with me," replied he. "Why now, Senors, can you guess why I taok op an mn, and left my d«ar little «a- U THREE SPANIARDS, live village, ia France, where I used to cut hair, and shorten beards'? It was because I loved (ree- dom and variety of character. An inn ia more free than a palace: you do as you please, you come when you choose, and go when you fancy. You meet all characters on a leveU wit has liberty to «liow itself, and modesty loses its shame.'* "So indeed it appears,'' cried Fernando with Jrapatience, " if ever thou hadst any shame, recal a little of it now, and leave us.'' "There is a true shame and a false shame '* continued he coolly: " the true shame is " *• Cease this impertinence," cried I: "go and hasten the supper." *' It will be ready before you think of it," said he. " Talking beguiles the time, and in an inn a man has a right to say what he pleases. An inn is tlie centre of mirth, jollity, and good living. Et- iquette is left at the door"; and so, Senors, let us finish this bottle. Ho! ho! by St. Christoval, here comes his high mightiness, first physician to the Emperor of China, corn-cutter to the Cham of Tartary, and parer of nails to the Great Mo- gul." We could not avoid laughing at the humor of our host; but the doctor coming in, we preparcl seriously for supper, which was not bad of the kind. Our host's wine contributed to raise our spirits, and he began to rally the doctor ou his oc- cult pretensions. " I beg," said he, after we had supped, "that you will now put me to the proof. I have heard all your doubts, and will now endeavor to remove them. In the first place, let us have three can- dles." When the host quitted the room to order the lights, " send that man away," said the doc- tor. *I will amuse him with some common faa» cies, and then you may get rid of him,'* " What is your namel" inquired Fernando. *• It is Almonsor, and my native country is Ara- bia, where the only pure' knowledge of the Cubal- THREE SPANIARDS. W ia 18 to be acquired. You have said, that magio being contrary to the general laws of nature, it i« incredible and impossible ; bat remember th&^- every accident is a species of magic, with the cause of which we are unacquainted. Were I to take some grains of gun- powder, and kindle them before a company of rude Indians, would they not suppose me a companion of the infernal spirit. So when we rise to the higher system of the Caliella, or combination of natural principles, the mass of mankind stand upon the level of ravages." " Nothing can be fairer," said I ; " but here comes De Tormes. Tiie candles being brought, Almonsor amused us with several very curious experiments. In particular, he took from his tra- velling trunk a crystal basin, and placing it upon the table between the three candles, ranged in equal angles, he poured into it a large phial of a mixed liquor, which separated in the basin into different strata, the lowermost taking the appear- ance of granite, above that gravel, and then clay, next ilime, and on the surface water. Into this he poured an elixir, and a metalic tree began to arise, expanding gradually into branches, leaves, and flowers. A few drops of a third phial caused the blossoms to fall, the leaves to wiljier, and the trunk to become in appearance dead. All this, though curious, seemed within the li- mits of human comprehension ; but it considera- bly raised our opinion of his ability, and having dismissed the host, we began to question him upon bis powers of prescience. •• I would wish," said I, " to know what shall happen to me within the next three months'?" " You will learn," said he gravely, after a few moments pause, " news which you d» not wish, and you will receive that which all men desire " " And 1," said Fernando; " what will nappea to mel" ♦• Sh«w me the palm of your left hand. You wi lrav«l long before you find rest, Yoa will be I S8 THREE SPANIARDS. danger of perishing by violence, which if yoo es- cape you may live to old age." ••But of what sort will be that violencel''' " By the sword," replied Almonsor. ** Yoa have Bome secret which now employs your thoughts — beware of the consequences." " Here," said Fernando, "here is a pictare, can you tell me if that lady lives'?" Almonsor took the picture, and fur some vao- ments gazed upon it with silent surprise. *• Where," cried he at length, " where did you meet this!'* Tlien starting iip, he exclaimed wildly, and with a look of horror, '• Cold, cold are now those lips that once swelled as the rose of the spring, and opened as the flower to receive the morning dew. This polished torehead is no Icjnger smooth. Time has printed his finger up- on It. Those eyes clear as the living lustres of the heavens are now dim as the stars of twilight through the vapors of the evening. Tliese cheeks blooming with the heahh of perfect youth, are pale and hollow, and wan. Oh, Time! savage and re- morseless monster! what hast tliou left of all that was lovely. The daughter of health, of beauty, of excellence, is gone. Fresh victims feed thy pride and thy power. Oh! children of a moment: what are ye? Visions of twilight, whither go yel" While he uttered these words he stroae about the room, with iparks of phrenzy in his eyes: he paused, stamped with great agitation: he put his hand to his head in agony, and, suddenly laying the picture on the table, darted out of the room. ••What say you to this man'?"' inquired I: ** do you think him most knave or fooll" "I think it very extraordinary,'* replied Fer- nando, ••His knowledge is wonderful. Has he not told us what will happen'? Did he not guesi mv secret'?" '" And who oould not, my friend V returned L '•It is plain, at first sight of your countenance, that *oLn thing preys upon your mind. There ii THREE SPANIARDS. 19 no haxard in 'that conjecture: and as to his pre- dictions, I will interpret them. I ana to receive news I do not wish,and to gain that which all men desire. In the first place I do not wish to hear tlie death of any of my relations, yet in so large a family, it may be a great chance if I do not, or how many things there are we do not wish to hear. Then what does a soldier desire more than honorl and what is more likely than that I shall receive it, after a successful campaign." "But then," said Fernando. •• how does he know I am to traveH" "Why are you not travelling nowl Are sol- diers ever at rest'? He has had the goodness to tell you, you are in danger of violence. I hope when you are in the field of battle, you do not ex- pect to die in your bedl and after you escape all these dangers (mark his sagacity) you may live to be old." "But this picture," said my friend : " what horrors spread over his face when he saw it, and how could he tell whether the original were living or dead." **You observed, when he took the picture how minutely he examined hi From the workman- fihip. the manner of the coloring, he could guess the time it was first painted: the rest was all grimace and stage-trick to astonish the senses,and awaken superstition." The Host here made his appearance, and infor- med us, that the first physician in the world was suddenly taken ill, and had retired to rest. "And eo will we," replied I: " I see he is master of hi« trade." In the morning, on inquiring for Almonsor, we learnt that he had departed by break of day: a circumstance that staggered even Fernando, who began to feel the absurdity of cherishing an indi- cation for a person perhaps mouldered into dust. We continued our rout til' we arrived at Tok»- M, wbere we were to rens' it^ fer forther orden 1 «• THREE SPA?JIARDS. We had made a long day's march, through a bai« ren country, where the heat^ad much incommod- ed US, rendering rest very cUibirable: the duties ot our office were therefore no sooner over, and sup- per finished, than we retired to our chamber. Our accommodation being here on a large scale we preferred separate beds : and I indulged myseif with the prospect of a night's repose, which rare- ly falls to a soldier on a march. Fernando prevented my sleeping by frequently exclaiming, " What is that oppresses my spirits! I am certain, Albert, some misfortune hangs over me." Twice he awoke me as I was sinking to sleep with inquiries, if I was well: and expres- sions of fear, that some accident was about to be- fal us. I was by no means jileased with these in- terruptions, which to me seemed the offspring of superstition, in a mind that had given way to melancholy forbodings, and desired he would suf- fer me to sleep. About the middle of the night, I was alarmed by a considerable pressure upon my breast, which was so heavy that I could scarcely breathe. On opening my eyes, I perceived by the light of a lamp which burnt in the room, the figure of a man leaning over me, with his left hand upon my breast. Marquis of Denia," said he, *• rise!" " I am not the Marquis de Denia," said I, "my father is yet alive." " He is dead!" said the per- son : '* tlise ! rise immediately and make no noise." I was astonished, as you may believe, at this address from a person I had never seen before r and though I was considerably alarmed for my own safety, I began to dress, the stranger sitting down by the bed-side. "What is it you want," said I ♦' at this singular hour'?" "Not more sin- gular," said he, ** than the business upon which I ftm come! — Hasten, Ofarquicl Time wear* apaflft THREE SPANIARDS. 41 "Follow you!" repeated I; «' to where!— May I not awaken my friendl" — •• No!" replied he; ♦' look at me and obey me." I started with an unknown sensation, when I distinguished by the dim twinkling lamp, that he was dressed as a common soldier— his eyes looked wildly upon me : and his countenance was the countenance of death. The story of my friend rush- ed upon me with conviction. " This," thought I, " is the being whom he met in the defile : he an- nounces my father's death, and wherefore does he visit me." I felt the dreadful necessity of obeying him and followed his motions in silence. I observed that his steps admitted no sound: and my terror increased when I beheld the doors open before us, and close at the waving of his hand. «•' What does this meanl" thoaght I: "ara I to give credit to my senses, or do 1 dreaml" He led the way without speaking or looking round, till we passed the town and crossed the bridge at the end of it. 1 then ventured to inquire where I was to gol and to what purpose'? " Mai^quis of Denia, follow me," was the only answer I received and that in a tone of voice so unusual, that I had not sufi&cient courage to re- ply. We passed across several bye-pat\s, and over several bridges, till I became so tired I knew not how to proceed. We at length entered a thicket that spread along the banks of a river: and after some lime, came to a high embankment, which was covered with thick and almost impenetrable trees, hanging over the stream, whose cheerless waves emitted a melancholy sound beneath us No path seemed to lead from this dismal situation, total darkness hung round us, and we atood upon the brink of a precipice. I started at my situation. I had hitherto obeyed implicitly the motions of this strange phantom, and I recoiled at remember- ing the tiles of my childhood, which here seemed r«aU>«d U) my pres«ut uncertain eituatioo* wber* b 42 THREE SPANIARDS. death eeemed to await me, and no human help was nigh.- The magnitude of my danger aroused my resolution: <« 1 will go no farther," cried I, ** your purpose may surely be as well answered here as at a mile distance. — Speak! tell me what youwantl" .' " Do you mark this placed" said he, " Time and you shall bear witness. Fernando Coello ia your friend! — he is mine! — he has given his word! Attend me!" He motioned to a thicker part of the forest; my feet seemed to move against my will,. and about fifty paces led to a small circle of trees, thickly surrounded by underwood. As well as I could perceive through the gloom, it appeared one of those close recesses, where robbers might safely luric. to fall upon the lonely traveller. I had ac- quired greater courage from the success of my last address, i paused again, and turning round to this mysterious being; "For what have you led me herel" demanded I in a firm voice.^ ** Ascend that tree, Marquis," pointing with his hand; *' hide yourself amidst the foliage; wait for an hour; but as you value your life be silent." " Ridiculous !" said I," what am I to see there 1" **Are you not already satisfied," said he stern- ly, " tha^ my words are no jesti Touch me and know whether the grave can lie!" I stretched out my hand to hii<, but no ice could have been colder. I shrunk back unable to re- ply. He pointed in silence to tlie tree ; and, af- ter such conviction, I could not disobey. I look- ed down when I had reached the first boughs, where tiie leaves were sufficiently thick to conceal roe, but he was gone; and I remained some time in a contusion of mind easily accounted for. I be- came accustomed to my situation ; i ejecting on the little foresight we possess, with all our boast- ad sagacity. Bhould I have not eoosidereti the THREE SPANIARDS. 48 ■nan as insane, uho should have whispered to me vrben I was retiring to rest at Tolosa, that 1 ehould pass part of that night in a tree, in a forest I knew not where 1 How many times have we ex» perienced similar circumstances, and yet we boast of our knowledge! I had continued at my pMsst about half an hour, when I heard voices advancing. Two men ap- proached, and sat down on tlie grass beneath me. Their voices were harsh and severe ; but the darkness did not allow me to distinguish more. I remained in silence, as I had been cautioned, scarcely daring to think, lest I should betray my situation. One of them, with a rapier, examined tlie bushes ; while the other, taking a dark Ian* tern from beneath his black cloak, placed it upon the grass, and spreading a coarse cloth, opened a gont skin bag, from which he took some pieces of cheese, and bread and garlic. The other, being satisfied no person was concealed, sat down with his comrade, and began eagerly to eat. ** These are hard times, Lopez," said he; "this is not the fare we used to have in former days when our services were wanted.'* " By the Holy Virgin!" replied Lopez, *• he shall re|)ent it! His borrowed honours shall be taken away! The secret that we know shall blast him to the centre. The Moorish castle " " Aye, Lopez, tliat castle might tell a tale!-— But tliat is in our own breast, and the winds shall not hear it till the proper time. Were my suspi- ay the blasting lightning ! I w( make them swallow my rapier!" cions certain, by the blasting lightning ! I would 'I have my doubts upon that business, Jacques; for J heard two voices, or I would then have beea satisfied. You know I am no coward, but that chamber unman'ied me." "Had I been there," said Jacques, my nerves would not have been eo weak, I should have told a better tale ; but you was startled at the tempest vf the night, and let two simpl* travellers carry 44 THREE SPANIARDS. away the only positive proof we comW bring. That dagger would of itself have confounded him ; and we might have lived like princes." I began to suspect that this Lopez had been the man whom we had heard cross the chamber of the Moorish tower, and I confess 1 began to tremble at my situation. I listened, scarcely daring to breathe, to the discourse of these wretches, whose horrid features were but partially visible by the dim light of the lantern which burnt between them. They continued to eat and discourse; min- gling their words with execrations and oaths. ** The old Don is not returned," said Lopez; ** he pays a regular visit to that ruin. Does he go to examine the wreck he has made, or to visit the dead?" ** Think'st thou, Lopez, that blood hurts his conscience 1 no, no, he sleeps tranquil upon a bed of carnage ; no ghosts trouble his slumbers : but we shall start upon him more fearfully than the grave ; we shall demand a recompense for our ser- vices that will not be easily satisfied. He thought we were secure when the Turks took the galley." " And yet, Jacques," replied Lopez, " I have heard another story. Ei-ery peasant can tell you the moroseness of his behaviour; savage to his daughters, and a tyrant to his servants. Some- thing they say he has seen, and I know not — " •' Away with this folly !" cried Jacques, '* by St. Peter ! Lopez, you become an old woman ! — You will be useless in the profession, if you lend your ear to all the babbling tales of these idiots. Seen ! ha ! ha !" "You are merry, comrade, " replied Lopez; ** we have no aqua vitae, or I might bear you com- pany. But I have not lorgot that night : fearful indeed it was, and near this place too! I shall.ne- ver forget how he strangled—" ** At it agam !" cried Jacques. " Aye, aye,* ■aid Lopez, " you may jest, Jacques; pity never •at«r«d your composition. Indeed, for that mat* THREE SPANIARDS. 45 ter, I hare not much to spare : but, by the Holy Virgin! I felt some repugnance — the wind whis- tled'about us, and the rain fell. — He little dream- ed of the journey he was going to take." " I love not these stories," said Jacques, in a gruff voice; " many a man sets out on a journey, that never comes back again. It seems he has got rid of his second wife as easy as the first ! On my soul, I wish we could accommodate matters with him ; he is such a true son of the blade, that my heart feels a friendship for him — Nobody should have served him truer, if he had not so meanly stopped our salary. That galls me, and he shall repent it." " That he shall," cried Lopez: *' but you re- member the hint that I dropped to you the other dayl if we could bring them to bear, our fortunes would 1^ no more out at the elbows. I have seen the ladies, they are delicate creatures, and no doubt old Don Padilla will comply to save his* neck." •' I know but one objection," said Jacques; " his nephew has not long been of age — he is the only male heir, and must be first put out of the w-ay." " Fernando," replied Lopez, in a low voice, " is now at Tolosa — we will " My rage and horror at these words overcame my reason, and prevented my listening further to a plan which raised me almost to madness. " Vil- lains! Murderers!" exclaimed I. " We are be- trayed!'' cried Lopez, shutting the lantern, *' who can have overheard us 1 but death shall close his mouth from telling tales." One of them immediately fired a pistol into the tree, the ball of which rushed among the leaves without hitting me, it being totally dark. I was aware of the extent of my own imprudence, but it was now too late to regret, and leaping from the tree, sword in hand, the force of my weight brought one of them to tlie ground, and my sword pierced him through the heart. It was so firmly fixed, 4» THREE SPANIARDS. passing through him into the earth, that I epdeaT" ored in vain to withdraw it> and I lay upon bim at the mercy of his comrade, who instantly struck at me with a dagger, wounding me severely in the arm. In the dark he could not distinguish me from Ifis companion, and repeating his blow, he bu- ried it in the body of his friend ; swearing he had now done my business: but to make sure, he lift- ed the pistol he had discharged, and, with a blow deorived me of i CHAPTER IV. This bears the marks of more than mortal man. When I recovered, I found that it was ing. I attempted to rise, but was so weak with loss of blood, that it was with extreme pain and difficulty I crept away from the assassin, M'hich was clotted with gore. I sat down on a bank, where I was so much overcome with faintness, that I expected every moment to breath my last. While I sat thus, with the horrid object of. the dead body before me, I reflected upon the death of my father, which, af- ter what had happened, I could no longer doubt; and the awful manner in which I had received the information, added to the melancholy tidings. No person approached, and my voice was too feeble to be heard. I looked round, but the place was wild, and without any path that I could dis- tinguish. In this situation I gave myself up to the expectation of death ; and I cannot say I felt the regret which might have been expected in one so young, and with so many prospects of future pleasures. •♦ At naout," thought I, *• a very few ye«r> THREE SPANIARDS. it would hate deprived this body of its vigor, and reduced it to its present imbecility— my eensea would have gradually decayed, my years would have fleeted by as moments, and my place would, in a very short time, have been no longer acknow- ledged amongst the living. Fearful and tremen- dous moment! inconceivable change ! — But this present moment and my bod^ is animated with va- rious sensations, my mind is endowed with the powers of reflection ; yet how soon, and 1 shall be, like that body before me, a mass of inert and unconscious matter!" From these meditations I fell into a reverie, from which I was roused by a slight rustling of the branches, and, raising my eyes, I perceived some- thing move along the thicket, I elevated my voice as loud as possible, but my efforts were too feeble to be heard, and I resigned myself again to my fate. A moment after a little dog came barking into the copse, followed by two ladies, who were led by his clamors. At sight of the dismal scene which presented to their eyes, they uttered a loud cry of horror ; one of them appeared nearly fainting, leaning upon her companion for support, which delayed their flight, and gave me time to arrest their attention. *' Ladies," said I, " take some compassion up- on a wounded stranger. If it is in your power send me some assistance, or I shr,ll perish." ** Holy Mother!" said one of them, drawing her companion nearer, *' what a sight is this ! How came you in this terrible situ.ition 1 and who is that person before you drenched in bloodl" «• That, lady," replied I, *' is a robber. Two cn Tex-ano Pad ilia " THREE SrAMARPS. 49 •' Don Padilla !" repeated I, in surprise : " 19 tliis die castle of Don PadiUa'?" " Do you doubt itl" said the servant. "What is there wonderful in thatl" " O nothing! I only thought it strange that I should have rambled so far. Is Don Padilla at home!" "No," answered he, " he has gone to take hia usual journey to Grenada. Perhaps you might not have been so welcome had he been here.'' " Why so, friend 1 How soon do you expect him V " He usually stays a month; and now he haa been gone a fortnight." " 1 suppose these ladies are his daughters '?— they aie very fine women.'' '• Aye, aye, Cavalier," returned he with a broad grin, '" tjs a pity you could not get here without Uiis ugly adventure; I warrant we should have had fine sport now his Excellenza is away. 1 am t-me the castle is nioie like a dungeon than anv tiling else eleven months in the year." '" I suppose you have not many balls and feasta when he is present ?"" said I, " 1 understand he is very melancholy." This 1 had gathered from the description 1 had of him by our host De Tormes; a!id make no doubt but this was the man the vil- lains had mentroi.ed. To my interrogation the feivaat rcfJied: «' Melancholy, Cavalier! why he's worse than nifclancholy, he's stark mad at times! then woe to jMior Miguel if he comes in the way ! And as to dances, and these sort of things, O Lord! why we never dare move a fcot about the house, but as if we were walking to a funeral; unless when hia Excellenza wants any thing, and then we must fly, quick. Hash, like lightning, at the turn of hia hand. Then if he was to see any of us laugh, he flies into such a plaguy passion, you would think we had robbed him." VOL. I, 4 50 THREE SPANIARDS. ** But can you give no account for this disposi- tion — it surely cannot be naturall" " In my opinion it is the most unnatural humor in tlie world; and I believe its this old gloomy dungeon of a place. Do you know it puts me-quite in the horrors myself; 1 a'nt like the same as I was when I first came here. Then there are such stories about its dark and winding stairs and pas- sages, empty Ghaml)ers, gloomy dungeons, and ter- rible phantoms^ that it would make your hair stand on end to hear them. There's old Gonzalez knows u pretty many of them ; but he's a close dog, hum's and ha's for an hour, and then ends with a shrug and a nod." I inquired if he had ever seen any of tliose phan- toms he mentioned? he replied, " 1 can't say that I have ; but I have heard groans enough to curdle the blood lu my veins. Then they say tliat the clashing of swords, and shivering of armor may be frequently heard iu the east side of the castle, which has been shut up this twenty years and not a soul is allowed to euter any of the chambers ; though for that, I believe, if the doors were set wide open, nobody would have the least curiosity, unless it were the ladies. They to be sure, once or twice asked the keys of his Excellenza, but they might as well have asked for his whiskers!" *' Is Don Padilla marriedl" inquired 1. '•' No, no," said Miguel, " he has been twice married already : but lor that matter he wanted to be so a third time, but Donna Isabella did not like to venture, after what had happened to his first wives." «' What did happen, Miguel," said I, " is not death a common accident V — " Yes, yes: but then the manner is sometimes different. Now, for my part, I should like to die in my bed; and you, as a soldier, would like to die in a battle, or so — *' "Not altogether," replied I, smiling; "but THREE SPANIARDS. 61 what was there particular in the death of Padilla's wives'?" "Nay, Cavalier, I did not say there was any thing particular — report is never to be believed, or else to be sure if one was to believe report, things were bad enough. But I do not like taliiing; and to say the truth, if what I have already said were to come to his Excellenza's ears, I must troop from the castle. Nobody knows for certain, unless, it is old Gonzalez; and he's almost as silent as my lord. He Ml sit for whole hours, and say nothing to any niotliei 's soul of us. I would give anv thing to know as mu( h as he knows." I began to be tired of the loquacity of Miguel, who seemed willing to tell every thing which I had no wish to hear; and finding an inclination to sleep, I desired he would do as he had intimated, ind leave me. It wa^= some hours before I awoke ; when I found myself considerably revived, and the confusion of my head tranquilized. On opening ray eyes, 1 l/cheid my friend Fernando sitting by me — his countenance pale as death. He would not suffer me to be awakened on his arrival; judging well, that rest was as necessary for me as medicine. The surgeon then came in, and, having examin- ed my wound, assured me that in a very few days I might leave my chamber. " I am very glad of it," said Fernando, "as his presence at Madrid will be necessary as soon as possible," " Wiiat business requires me there'?" said I; " have -you heard then'?"—" Heard what!" demanded he, with an inquiring look, " Have you received any news from 3Iadrid'?" "Ah! my dear friend," answered I, '* you have received an accouut of my father's death, and fear to alarm me by an hasty disclosure ; but it was known to me some hours since." " You surprise me," said he; " the courier ar- rived at Tolosa but a moment before we came from thence. I dismounted to break open the packet. 52 THREE SPANIARDS. When I arrived here, I found you asleep, and wag told you had been so near two hours : how then is it possible you conid have received these tidings!" " I knew it last night at Tolosa," replied I ; ** but at a more convenient opportunity 1 will ex- plain." He iinmediately comprehended me, and remained silent. In the evening I found myself so much recover- ed, that I desired Fernando would come and sit with me; and, under pretence of family concerns, we admitted no visitor. I then explained to him the strange circumstance of the preceding night, which increased his melancholy air. " This, my dear Albert," said he, " is no com- mon business ; but why you and I should be se- lected as insti-umeats confounds me. 'Tis true, that this Don Padilla is an uncle ot mine, he was ray mother s youngest brother, and, if his daugh- ters die without issue, I am his sole heir. I have also a dormant claim upon this very estate; but as I never heard that njy family had received any particular injury from him, I did not wish to en- ter into any process, which would appear as un- natural on my part. His first wife died suddenly when I was very young — I believe it was from a surfeit at a feast; and theYi he raan-ied again in a shorter time than was decent." " Do you remember the name of tlie first ladyl'* inquired I. " Her name was Emyra: if I remember right, she was daughter to the then governor of Lima." " Holy Heaven!" exclaimed I, " are you cer- tain, my friend, in what you sayl If so she was my mother's sister.— A sister whom she has long lamented as swallowed up in an earthquake with her husband, after herself, who was the elder sis- ter, returned to Spain, and was married to the Marquis my father. But how could she have re- mained unknown in Spainl" " That is very easily accounted for," answered Fernando. " Don Padilla never leaves this re- THREE SPAMAIIDS. 53 treat. My mother was his sister. M^ fail-.er di- ed a few months after his marriage, and my mo- ther at the hour which gave me birth. Thn;? 1 was left to the protection of guardians; and was educated at the castle of the Marquis de los Velos, to wliose interest, before his death, I owed the commission I now enjoy, till 1 shall be of age to claim my father's property. My information re- lative to Don Padiila is vague. 1 know only that a little after his sister's death, after having run through his fortune, he went abroad an extrava- gant spendthrift. In our western colonies he con- trived to repair his foitune, by mean? which are unknown; and, when he returned, he disclaimed all connection with his relations, from motives of resentment at their former icfusal to supply his extravagance, and from that moroseness of dispo- sition w hich, I am informed, renders his life a bur- den to himself. He had two daughters, I was told, very fine women; but, till this dd^ I had never the pleasure of seeing them." I inquired, who was the lady hi had made his second wifel " He married a lady from Grenada, about the time of Philip's persecuticm of the Moors," replied he; "but here I know no more, than that she died in less than a twelvemonth, leaving a daughter, the Lady Almira." " What you have informed me," said I, '< op- ens to me new scenes. Were you not very much frightened at my singular absencel" " I had more reison to l)e frighted than you may imagine," said he. " You know what strange forebodings hung upon my mind: and when I did si«ep, it was oppressive and heavy. Images of unconnected forms filled my mind, and harassed my imagination. Methought that the figure of the woundod soldier stood over nae, with auger in his countenance, and I heard him pronounce my name. I fancied I awoke, and be stood beside 64 THREE SPANIARDS. •* FerHando," said he, '< what regard do you pay to your promises ! My service never interrupts your occupations. Rise! rise! your friend is far hence! If he falls revenge him, for he is in my service! Behold me ! mark me! know me!" cried he in a louder voice ; and. throwing open his sol- dier's dress, I beheld beneath it a Moorish robe stained with blood, which appeared even then to trickle down from several wounds. I turned away my eyes with horror, and was so agitated, that I awoke in reality from this double dream; and, starting from my bed, went immediately to awak- en you. My agitation and terror was extreme when I found you absent. Then all the warning of the phantom of my mind arose into reality: I believed that you were certainly murdered : and I uttered a cry of despair, which alarmed the house. '• After searching every part of the inn, I des- patched several messengers round the town and its environs with very little hope: for it appeared to me above comprehension, that you should have left your room, and the inn, and yet all the doors remain fastened. From my anxiety I was reliev- ed by the arrival of your messenger. I think, however, we may botli learn that some event of strange incident hangs over as." " That admits ol no tloubt," replied I: " it is not for trilles tl'.e usual order of nature is inteiTupt- ed. If I were superstitious I might now fancy Almonsor to be a mr.giriaii ; but, a?; I said before, any man might make the same guesses, with the same ceitainty of truth: this, however, is very dif- ferent. The spirit ol the dead, for important rea- sons, may be permitted to appear ; but no man can be supposed to have power to call up an evil spirit, or the soul of a departed human being at his plea- sure, to satisfy an idle and impious curiosity: as little probable is it, that any finite creature can be master of future events." "I am of your opinion," replied he: " but THREE SPANIARDS. 65 what am I to do'? Am I to charge Padilla witli the murder of I know not whol How am I to bring proof of such a charge!" " We must wait," answered I, *' Singular events have brought us to this castle, at a time when admission was alone possible: for I am in- formed, that his jealousy, or his conscience, pre- vents him ever opening his gates to strangers 1 have been told very strange reports are circulated about the next range of apartments; at present, I am not fully informed: but, if possible, we will ex- amine that side of the building. I am now con- siderably interested ; as well ftom the adventure of the assassin, as by what I have now learnt from yourself regarding my mother's sister." ' The attention that I received from my friend, and the fair sisters, in a few days restored me so far as to be able to walk about my chamber ; but though the wounds of my body were amended, I found th;it my heart had received an impression not so easily to be remeojed ; though I concealed from Vijginia that I was the son of her mother's sister. My friend encom*aged me to hope, by repeating to me many little things Virginia had said in my favor to her sister and himself: " And," added he, laughing, " I believe I have made some pro- gress in the affection of my cousin Almira." " I congratulate you," said I ; " that will be acting like a man.' She is a little better than a picture." " 1 allow her merit," answered he ; " but fan- cy you know is every thing with a lover, and I do not believe I shall ever sincerely love, till I find a lady resembling this charming picture." " At these words he took it from his bosom, where it always hung, and gazed upon it with plea- sure. " There is certainly some little likeness," said he, " in the general outline, between this slv* '^' my cousin Almira; but then she is by no ip"' finished a creature." 56 THREE SPANIARDS While he was thus speaking, old Gonzalez had entered the room without our noticing him ; his e^e glancing upon the picture, he smiled ; and put- ting back his white locks, *' Ah, Chevalier," said he, " you are a happy man, you wear your mis- tress in your boaom: will you favor an old man with the sight of a young beauty"? I have seen ma- ny a fair flower bloom and wither : I am now withered myself, for that matter, but yet it pleases me to look at a pretty face." *• Look upon this then," said Fernando, " and tell me if you ever saw a prettier." The old man then took the portrait in his hand, and gazing up- on it, stood motionless, while the tears trickled from his eyes in large drops. •♦ Why is thisl" said Fernando, somewhat sur- prised. *' Why do you weep, my friendl" " Forgive me," answered he; " forgive an old man who is full of fanciful conceits: that picture brought fcjrmer times to my recollection — days long ago gone away." " But what circumstance does this picture re- cal, Gonzalez, that you weepl Does it remind you of any one you knew 1" " Ah, Cavalier," said he, shaking his head, " I could shew you a picture exactly like it in the picture gallery ; it was accounted an admirable likeness of my late mistress the mother of Lady Almira; but it is somewhat older than this por- trait represents. Is this lady alive, Senor?" Fernando who was sinking fast into reflection, was aroused at this question, which he did not expect. " I know not," replied he, " whether she is or no ; but could you not oblige me by shewing me the picture gallery 1 You have raised my curiosi- ty for you know we are always interested by tri- fles, if they relate to ourselves." Gonzalez looked at Fernando, repeating, "By trifles, Senor!" — " Yes, trifles," answered Fer- nando: •' do you consider it a great favor to shew me theee picturesl" TliflEE £SrAMARD.S. 67 •* Aye, that was not what we were saj-ing," re- plied Gonzalez. " Well, well," said Fernando, "never mind what we were saying; will you lead me tliither now we shall have sufficient time be- fore the sun set?. I never did see my aunt living, and now I should like to see her resemblance.'* " Your aunt !"' repeated Gonzalez, in apparent surprise; "was Lady Zidana your auntl Holy Father! is it possible 1" ** I assure you I speak truth," replied Fernan- do. " Did you not know th;it I am of the family of the Coello's, and that Don Padiila was—" *' Yes, yes, now I remember,'' answered he ; ** but it is very singular. If you will follow me, Senor, and make but little noise, we will go by the back passages. Servants are so curious, and so fond of the marvellous that any thing in a large gothic building like this excites their wonder." I would w illingly have accompanied them, but I feared too much exertion; and I doubted not but my friend might gain more information alone, this cautious domestic not being easily induced to general confidence. After traversing several dark and winding pas- sages, they entered a large room very elegantly furnished in the old Spanish style. Antique tap- estry covered the walls, along which ranged a number of whole length pictures of generations long since mouldered into dust. At the upper end of the gallery appeared two large gilt frames, and, in place of painting, a curtain of black silk hung down, exactly covering tiie canvass. " There," said Gonzalez, " are the pictures of his Excellenza's two wives. He never can bear to look upon them since they are dead ; and to prevent his feelings being shocked, he has thus hung them in mourning. Shall I draw the veil, Senor 1 This is the Lady Emira, Don Padilla's first wife: she is a very fine person j she died ve- ry young, Senor." 58 THREE SPANIARDS. ** That remark," said Fernando, " reminds al- so, that she died suddenly. You knew her, Gon- zalez "?" The old man replied,' "She did die suddenly, Senor, very suddenly. I was not then at the cas- tle: I have, however, been informed, that she died by a surfeit at a feasts" " That was a common report, you know wheth- er it was truer' — " And why should you doubt it Senorl"— " I have my reasons, Gonzalez: they are buried here, (laying his hand upon his bosom.) You know I am Don Padilla's nephew, the Mar- quis de Denia is nephew to this lady — can you suppose ours an idle curiosityl" " Ah Senor," replied Gonzalez, mournfully, " we must not trust our senses in this world. I iiear, and see, and am silent. Of things which we cannot prove, 'tis best to hear and see, and say nothing." " But many incidents, which singly are noth- ing," said Fernando, " added together, may bring a volinne of proof, proof deep and irresistible!" " Then eternal truth will appear, and the injur- ed receive atonement," said Gonzalez. " And murderers," cried Fernando, " receive the reward of their black malignity." " Do you know then," said Gonzalez, looking round him with fearful ap- pieliension: "Do you know then, Senor, any thing tliat can lead you to such a suspicion! We liuve got upon a very strange subjectl" " 1 have renson : the reports that I have heard relating to the eastern part of this building, the strange melancholy of Don Padilla, this dagger," ciied he, taking from his dress the dagger he had found in the 31oorish ruin, and presenting its rus- ty point to Gonzalez, who started back affrighted at the sight. "Ha! Fernando!" said he, " where did you meet that weapon 1 the enchasure of gold down the blade is reuiaikable. It was brought from I^ew Spain." THREE SPANIARDS. 69 " I understand you," replied Femandc admir ing the discretion of this old man. " This daggei was wrapped in a Moorish habit, stainea 'vith blood: now dare you trust me, when you have \hin dreadful credential of confidence," - " What am I to say 1 Of the death of Ladf Emira I know nothing positive. At that time I lived with my lady Zidana in Grenada. I had a sister, named Teresa, who lived in this castle, and was waiting-maid to Lady Emira. Don Padilla never treated this lady, since their return from New Spain, with that kindness her goodness deserved: he was always pretending to be jealous of her, though Heaven knows how un- justly ! for she never set her foot out of the castle from the first day she entered it, except perhaps, a little walk in the woods. " You may easily suppose, Senor, what sort of a life this was for a young and beautiful lady to lead; and had it not been for the playfulness of her little infant Virginia, it would have been sad indeed." Fernando ventured to remind him, that he was now straying from the point. " You are right," said he. "1 might dwell for days on these subjects, if I gave loose to the incli nations of my tongue. The jealousies of Don P; ' dilla became every day more insupportable; am his threats to confine her wholly in the castle, rendered her life very unhappy. About this time the persecutions of Philip broke out, and he was frequently absent for weeks, nobody knew whith- er. He arrived suddenly one night at the castle in better spirits than usual ; and surprised my la- dy with requesting she would order a little enter- tainment, as he intended supping with her that night. They supped by themselves, attended only by my sister Teresa. Lady Emira was in excel- lent spirits, and Don Padilla in seeming good hu- mor. Seeming, I call it, because I cannot think these sudden changes natural : we do not change from bad to good in an hour, Senor." 60 THREE SPANIARDS. '* Very well, go on," said Fernando, impatient^ •* After supper my ladj? was suddenly taken ill ; Don Padilla would have it, she had overforced her appetite ; but whatever it was, she died the same night. Listen, Senor! did you liear any noisel" " No," answered Fernando; " what should we heai!" ** I know not." said Gonzalez, listening; *'but for some time after the ladies' death, there were noises, very strange, and very unaccountable heard." •* Did no suspicion arise at the sudden death of Emiral" said Fernando : did it create no inqui- ** This part of Spain was at that time all in alarm — most men had sufficient business of their own to attend: but you shall hear. Lady Emira was laid out on a bed of state: I could shew it you now if I had the keys of those chambers, f^e- yeral of the neighboring people were invited to tee her, and Don Padilla made them remark that Hhe was very little changed by death : but this did mot silence all suspicion. My sister nearly broke ,ier ^heart lamenting for her mistress, and was ith difficulty kept from constantly remaining in e room till the day of her funeral. The corpse as removed into another chamber, where it lay in state : and Padilla took the key of the cham- bers, where his lady had before resided, into his own possession, and would not permit a thing to be touched. On the fourth day, in the evening, the coffin was screwed down, in presence of all the domestics; who, with tears in their eyes, took a last look at their mistress. It was interred in dusk of the evening in the chapel vaults belonging to the castle, and Don Padilla retired to his own apartment in visible agitation of mind. ' ''* Old Pedro, who was then steward, and had a great affection for his lady, took it into his head that she was not dead, and that Don Padilla had ^iwai THRfiE SPANIARDS. 61 only buried her with a sleeping potion, for which purpose he watched for three successive nights at the entrance of the chapel ; but all remained un- interrupted, and he was satisfied of the certainty of his lady's death. But now, Senor, I am to re- late to you a circumstance to me unaccountable, and which I fear will never be explained till the day when many foul secrets will come to light. My sister Teresa, who was inconsolable for the loss of her mistress, could not rest in one place, but wandered from room to room as if in search of something siiehad lost. Slie had put little Vir- ginia to bed after the funeral, and stole towards the apartments of her late lady. She knew that Don Padilla was in his own room, and she ven- tured, from curiosity, perhaps, to try the outer door. It opened, and she entered the rooms, where every thing remained as she had left it. " The desolate air of the deserted chambers in- spired her with superstitious fear. The sun had been some time gone down, and every object was indistinctly seen, so that she almost trembled as she stepped over the floors: and would have re- turned had not some unknown impulse urged her on. At last she came to the little bed-chamber where Emira used to sleep in the absence of her husband. The door stood ajar, and she ventured to push it open, when she beheld the figure of her late mistress kneeling at the foot of a little table, on which was placed a crucifix. Her lips seemed to move, and her features were paler than death. Teresa stood motionless at the sight, and had nei- ther power to speak or move ; when she was sud- denly grasped by some person behind her, and fell senseless on the ground. " This person was Don Padilla;' who carried her himself into the great hall, and commanded the servants to put her to bed. On her recovery .«;he found herself in her own room, with me sit- ting beside her : for I had that very evening ar- rived at the castle to take her back to Grenada. 62 THREE SPANIARDS. When she recovered iier senses, she informed me of these incidents : but the last appeared to me so strange, that I knew not what to think; especial- ly when I considered the uncertainty of twilight, and the disturbed mind of Teresa." " She must certainly have been deceived," said Fernando: " it could not be her mistress— and it was a singular posture for a ghost." •' I know not," replied Gonzalez, " my mind is bewildered with the circumstance : for from that night to this I have never seen my sister." " You dream surely,'" cried Fernando: " it was not your sister, but Lady Emira who died." "I am well aware of that," replied he. '* Af- ter what Teresa had told me, I left her to make some inquiries amongst the servants — she slept alone — and in the morning her room was found empty : and no account could be learnt of her froui that hour to this." " That is singular indeed," said Fernando, fix- ing his eyes steadily upon Gonzalez: " what do you suspect." " Ah, Senor," said he, shaking his head, "what can one suspect in s>uch a <'.asel She must have been spirited away by Don Padilla, to prevent her telling secrets he had no mind should be wn." But what secrets could she tell 1 she did not now that her lady was poisoned. You say, she saw her buried with her own eyes, and, to say the truth, in this instance I am apt to think her ima- gination deceived her." " It might be so," said the old man, with a doubting air: "but her absence is no deception. However, let us now look at a second picture, be- fore the sun is wholly lost behind the black w'av- ing forest. There, Fernando, there is a charming creatm-e!" *' Charming, indeed!" cried Fernando, starting back with surprise: " 'tis the very exact resem- blance of this portrait — what an heavenly coun- jier Tino THREE SPANIARDS. 63 tenance! This lady was your mistress, I think 1 Did she live loiig with Padillal" " Only two years, Senor, she was then lost to UB." *' Lost to you ! is she not deadi" " I fear she is," replied Gonzalez, putting bia hands to his eyes: " but in what way nobody knows." " She did not die of a surfeit ! You know her story, do you noti" said Fernando: " I have par- ticular reasons to wish for some information, aa this picture I wear may inform you. Come to the chamber where my friend the Marquis de Denia is confined: on the word of a Spaniard you may de- pend on our honor." " I will attend at twelve," replied Gonzalez: " the servants will then be at rest." Fernando, after gazing some time upon the pic- ture of Lady Zidana, which the rays of ihe setting sun gilded and enlivened, returned to inform me of this long conversation, and to advance a thou- sand suspicions. The sudden loss of Teresa, and in so particular a manner, seemed to stamp guilt upon the death of Emira : but it was, without trace, and affording no clue to conviction, served only to stimulate our interest. We were interrupted by a gentle strain of sweet music, which stole upon the evening breeze. Fer- nando opened the casement, which overlooked the gardens of the castle now overshadowed with twi- light. We listened to the music which came up- on the wind, and were charmed with the tender expression of the composition, which was a Span- ish love song. When the music ceased we felt dis- appointed, waiting at the window for a returning sound. We did not judge wrong in supposing it to be the ladies, who had entertained themselves with this innocent amusement, in the pleasant shades of tho gardens : and we soon after saw them appear, the one with a lute, the other with a bandola. 64 THREE SPANIARDS. ' WiB saluted them from the window, and they re- turned the compliment • though it was too late to see their faces distinctly. This little incident served to make them the subject of our discourse; and the diflfereuce of theit manners from those of their father, while they had his example before them, and felt the influence of his power, drew forth our praise CHAPTER V. . . . Oh! mischief thou art quick To eaUi' in the thoughts of desperate man. At the appointed time we heard a rap at our door, and, opening it, old Gonzalez entered, look- ing round him with caution. Having closed the door, " I have brought us a bottle of wine,'' said he : it will be a refreshment, and help our spirits at this solemn hour, wher the inhabitants of the rave are abroad." each took a glass, and, being seated, re- d him to inform us what he knew of Lady ana. , She is, or was,*' said he, '* as you may judge the name, of Moorish lineage: but her ances- org having frequeiuly inlerraairied with the na- 'ves of Spain, the flatness of the Moresco features s done away. She was married very early in life o Count Ferendez, by whom she had a daughter. She lived with her lord in the greatest harmony, at their casile on the banks of the Darro." " I believe," remarked Fernando, interrupting him, and looking towards me, " that castle is now in ruhis." *'Alas? Senor?,*' replied the old man, "well I know it, and Don Padilla knows it. It wad. ill uus ^ra ve ; ^^^^BMRet ^■npani ^ ^t SI THREE SP.4MARDS. (,-5 twenty year ago, the most magnificent in the coun- try. Some of the (j-reat rooms were built of marble ; and the fountains of water cooled the heat of the air. Den Padilla had known my lord the Count Ferendez in early life ; for at that time Count Fer« endez was as gay and extravag.mt as himself. " At the first visit Don Padilla made to our castle, he saw and admired my lady. 1 had my eyes upon him, and was not long in discovering the attention he paid her; but whether my tady gnve him a dismissal in private, or he acted from deeper policy, I know not, but we had little of his company till the edict of Philip destroyed at once all the connections of fajiiilies and friends. All J^e Moorish families were at once reduced to beg- gary and exile. Nothing but the most dreadful distress was to be seen. Count Ferendez assem- bled his dependents widi intent to resist the army of the court; but his incapacity of means was ev- ery hour more visible; and certain and dreadful destruction hung over him and his household. He would not change his religion, as several persons of rank were aiready to do, and he awaited with resignation the threatening storm. •* While things were in this state, Don Padilla arrived, at midnight, with two soldiers his only attendants. He was a long time closeted with the Count, and I could gather no more of their con- versation than by the effects which followed. Count Ferendez the same night set out for the cas- tle of Montillo, carrying wjih him a number of jewels, and disguising himself under the dress of one of the soldiers; both of tiiem accompanying him as a guard." Fernando groaned at this observation, but re- mained silent: Gonzalez continued. " I understood that Padilla had offered him the asylum of this castle, till he might procure a pur- chaser for his estates, or joined his brother in Af- rica: while niy lady Zidana, and her little daugh- ter should remain at a secret residence in GrecA- VOL. I, 6 6fc THREE SPANIARDS. da, till she could conveniently follow. Be this ai it would, my unfortunate master never feached thij ca£tle. He was murdered, barbarously murdered on the road ; but whether by an accidental ren- contre with some straggling party of soldiers, 01 whether '* The clock struck twelve, and Gonzalez padded to dry a tear from his cheek, and compose the per- tui-bation of his mind. " What you have told us," said I, *' it; strange; it forms a ground for terrible suspicions. Did you see those soldiers to whose care Don Pndilla de- livered your master 1" " Not fully," replied 'Gonzalez. •* They were introduced in so cautious a manner, that I caugliC but a faint glance as they passed ; but I have since thought, they hnd more the appearance of assa^- fcins than of regular soldiers." "Have these men ever appeared uinceV in- quired Fernando. '* Never, Senor, to my knowledge," replied he. " It was said they had never been found any more than my lord." " That is most strange!" said I. "What proo{ hen have you beyond suspicion 1 or how came liis to your knowledge without some witness." " It was not in the nature of things, that mj master should forsake his wife and daughter.— He departed at the dead of the night - he has never been seen since ; but the soldier's dress he had on was found in the wood near this castle, torn and bloody. W^hat greater proofj are needfull" Hehad scarcely pronounced the last word, when we were all startled by the great clock again striking twelve. " What can this mean V* said Fern!ando, turning pale. « Ah, Senor," replied Gonzalez, calmly, "th^ i? a supei'natmal intimation : these omens are fre- quent— -they stir up recollection, and pre\'ent black actiou« from slipping over the raamorj'. I have things to relate yet more terrible, and more strange, than a warning like this." ^1 THREE SPANIARDS. W «* Go on then," said I: and he thus continued: *• Don Padilla conveyed my lady and her daugh- ter to Grenada, where he left tliem ; and, giving me directions to secure the most valuable movea- bles, and bring them to my master at his castle, I obeyed. On my arrival at this place, judge, Se- nors, my surprise; it was then that 1 learnt all at once the death of Lady Emira, The murder of my master, and the loss of my sister quickly fol- lowed. It was with difficulty I supported myself under so much distress : and, had not my mind been hardened by the examples of equal misery, which every hour crowded upon me, I should cer- tainly have 5unk beneath it. " My suspicions were great and strong; but prudence locked thein in my own bosom. I watch- ed the dark looks of Padilla, and thought I coald read the fate of my master in his countenance: but such a suspicion 1 dared not breathe to myself " The old steward, Pedro, was a man who bad caught much of his master's gloom, and 1 suspect- ed knew some of the secrets, which determined ihe to guard my expressions. I had not been many days in the castle, when passing one evening along a dusky gallery , I heard the sound of voices as iu anger. 1 listened, and could distinguish the tones of supplication, and the threats of a person in rage; but the subject I could not at all hear — a word or two being all I could learn in a sentence : from which I judged, that the supplicating person had made some discovery which was of importance. In about half an hour they parted ; and I conceal- ed myself in a dark corner, that I might not hr seen. Pedro came out, his lips pale, his knees trembling, and his eyes staring wildly: he passei' on with a quick and hasty step, as if he was pur sued by some frightful apparition. *' He had not reached the end of the gallery when Padilla came out. This was the first tioH. I had ever feen him enraged; and, gloomy aa was my situation, his frightful frown and glowing ejea (58 THREE SPAMARPS. struck me with horror. ** Pedro," cried he, in a voice of thunder ; at which the unhappy wretch Btarted nearly to falling. " Pedro, come here! — were you in Peru, villain, I would grind you into powder!— obey my words. This is the last night you remain in these walls. I bhali send a guide with you to your relations in Murcia. Hasie, ai;d never appear before my sight — unless you would have that I should strike you dead at my feet!" Pedro threw himself upon the ground and entreat- ed forgiveness. " If," said he, ** I may be par- doned, never shall my lips——" " No," cried Padilla, changing countenance; " JSever shall thy lips betray me. — Do you know mel If you do, arise and prepare to be gone." With these words he strode back to the room, the door of which he jarred to, with a force which re- sounded along the gallery. •' Pedro appeared confounded with terror. I dared not quit my station ; as I knew not the consequences that might ensue from a discovery of my having been witness to such a scene, in a cas- tle where violence seemed to reign. Pedro with- drew in disorder, and I quitted my station with caution. •' 1 had vaiious conjectures in my-.own mind on this occasion ; and imputed the rage of Don Pa- dilla to the suspicions Pedro bad expressed in watching at the entrance of the chapel. Be that as it would, Pedro left the castle the same night." " How do you know he left it?" said Fernando. ♦'Because he was not to be found the next morning.* " That might be," replied Fernando, with a groan. " Merciful Heaven! what thoughts crowd upon me! Proceed." '* The next morning Don Padilla called me to his room. " You were ^ faithful servant, Gonza- lez, to my lost friend, said he : " you ehall. not cuiTer by his unforttmate death, if you will serve THREE SPANIARDS. G9 me as you did him. My old steward, Pedro, left me last night to retire into Murcia amongst his re- lations." " His relations !" muttered I, before I recol- lecled myself. "Aye, his relations," repeated he in a lofty voice, and eying me with a keen look. " Do'nt you think, hoqest Gonzalez, 'tis a comfortable thinfj to retire in your old age amongst your friends'? If you serve me faithfully I will provide fur you in the same way." *' Heaven forbid!" thought I, buti said nothing except observing that 1 did not consider myself aa discharged from my duty to my lady." " Nor I either," i eplied he, with a grim smile. " The fine castle, Gonzalez, is buried in ruins by the king s troops; your lady is coming to live in my castle, and I will protect her with my life." '• And her litlle daughter, your Excellenzal" "Yes, yes, both: I am the protector of all re- lated to my unfortunate friend the Count. Hear me, Gonzalez! I am in two days going to Grena- da; 1 shall bring your lady hither, and give you in charge to see the chambers of my late wife pre- pared and decorated. You are, from this time, my steward in the place of Pedro." " It was with a heavy heart I entered on this office; not a little perplexed in my own mind witli the direction I had received, to fit up the La- dy Emira's rooms; but yet I had no idea that Pa- dilla would ever prevail on my mistress to marry him. He, however, knew too well the power he now possessed; and, as I have learnt, he mingled threats with persuasion; and, moved, at length, by the picture he drew of her own poverty, and the mise.-y she would entail upon her little daugh- ter, he prevailed upon her to give a reluctant con- sent. 1 received this tidings with sorrow ; being obliged to prepare for the solemnization of this un- hallowed marriage at this Castle of Monti llo. " Id about a week my lidy arrived: the deep- 70 THREE SPAMARD8. est melancholy was fixed epon her couutennnre ; and it was easy to see that grief lay ^eavy at her neart. She retired with her daughter to the apart- ments prepared, and shutting herself in, gave way to grief. Pity was all I had to bestow, w I had not even an opportunity of speaking. ** Don Padilla hastened the preparations ; apd to cover a bad action bv a blase of splendor, in- vited many of the neighboring nobility to be pres- ent at the nuptials. •* The long gallery was filled with musicians, and the company were invited to dance before the supper should be served. Ladv Zidana was dress- ed in white, with a plume of^ black feathers as a tribute to her lord. She resisted all the invita- tions of Don Padilla to dance; who, to say the truth, exerted himself in every point to please'ber, and drive from her features that grief which, in spite of her efforts, was but too visible. *• The dances occupied the evening, and it was almost twelve o'clock before the company assem- bled in the large gothic hall to supper. Several musicians were placed there upon a temporary stage, and such of us as could be spared from at- tending the company, contrived to witness this elegant assemblage of ail that seemed beautiful, rich, and grand. The number of officers dressed in their uniforms, and mingled with the variegat- ed company, added much to the sight. They took their seats amidst universal mirth, and a general good humor prevailed. Little did they think in what way it was to be interrupted! *' The tables were heaped with the choicest vi- ands; and wine of different sorts stood in goblete: for the accommodation of the guests. The musif played in lively strains, echoing through the lofty fretwork of the gothic hall; and nothing seeniecl capable of interrupting the universal festivity — when the great clock of the castle struck one. •• At that moment a fearful cry was heard, as if rei^cunding from every part of the castle, and per- THREE SPANIARDS. 71 yading every ear with indiscribable fear.— It eeemed like the cry of murder, mingling with an eastern blast. The company all started, and gazed upon each other in silent consternation. The tapers which blazed upon the tables, and in branches along the walls, suddenly expired : and from a scene of brightness and splendor, arose the deepest darkness and distress. The music sud- denly ceased — the company rose in dismay, crowd- ing through tlie avenues leading from the hall in the gieatest distress several of the ladies fainting u iih aifright. " It was impossible to distinguish persons in this general confusion, and I concealed myself in the tapestry hangings in the first emotions of fear. In :i veiy few uiinutes no person remained in the banqueting hall, except Don Padilla, his new mar- ried ladj, and myself. The mingling sounds of the flying company wer'fe subsided into a death-like silence, and the tapers as suddenly re- lighted as they had been extinguished; — but now a more ter- rible object presented to our eyes. " The figure of the murdered Count Ferendez etood at the head of the table, facing Lady Zidana and Padilla; he was clothed in the dress of a sol- dier, as he had quitted his castle; he cast around him a glance of fierce inquiry darting as a sun- Learn. My lady immediately fainted; and the bloodless cheeks of Padilla, betrayed his fear. " The spectre gazed upc^i him a few momema '* Knowest thou mel" said he, in a hollow voice. Padilla's lips trembled but he returned no answer. *' See," said the spectre, the. work of thine hand^ but how loMg sliall these actions prosper!" " It was not I. My hand never raised itself against you," faltered Padilla. " The spectre frowned. " Can you deceive me now !" said he. " Do I not know thy thoughts and thy actions. — But tliy time is not yet — " •* Padilla seemed to recover at these words. " Away!" cried he, with rising firmness, "thy threats and thvself are as shades!" 72 THREE SFANIAKDS. " The spectre raised his hand in a threatening posture — the same fearful cry sounded through tliy hall — the lamps were extinguished for a niunieiit, and again re- lighted without hands. " The mixture of passion expressed on the brow of Padilla made me tremble as I stood. He sat leaning his chin upon the palms of his hands, gaz- ing upon the place where the spectre had been, as though he were still befuie him; while Lady Zida- na lay on the ground unnoticed, and the least r ;- raained on the tables unregarded. *' I wished to retreat, fur I was sick with vari- ous emotions, but 1 trembled at being discovered. Don Padilla, after musing some time, suddenly started up, and pouring out a large goblet full of aqua vitas, drank it off. It was now 1 endeavored to get away ; but his alarm had given quickness to his hearing, he started, and turning suddenly around perceived me stealing idong the side of the hall. " Ha!" cried he, drawing his sword, "thou art no shade — ^but I will cpaickly make thee such!" He darted upon me, and dragging me by the throat along the ground to the table, lifted his sword to strike." Here the old man paused, and looked round, as if apprehensive that Don Padilla was yet standing over him. The castle bell at that moment tolled — one. I shuddered at the melancholy sound, which was lengthened through the hollow apart- ments, and seemed to realize the dreadful scenes Gonzalez had impressed upon our minds. For some time an awful silence prevailed; ap- prehension marked our features, and, taking each a glass of wine, Gonzalez continued. " When Padilla perceived it was I, he quitted his grasp still holding his glittering sword to my throat. " Gonzalez," said he, " is it you 1 Pedro was dismissed my service for a smaller crime. But, by my soul! I swear, that a second shall b« the THREE SPANIARDS. 73 forfeit of your life. Is it for such base wretches as thou art, to pry into the secrets of a man like mel Hear me, villain ! this is the term on which I now let thee live—Conceal what thou hast seen in thy inmost soul; dare not to whisper it to thyself. If ever I learn that thou dost, that day shall be to thee black with vengeance!" " Nor shalt thou escape!" said a voice, at which we all rose in confusion and amazement. " What can this meani" cried Gonzalez, trcJii- bling; " who can have overheard usl" " It is some servant," said Fernando, " whose idle curiosity has led him hither." He did not wait for more words, but leaping forward, he hastily opened the door, and ran along the corridor; but he could distinguish no one, nor hear any retreating footstep. "This is truly as- tonishing," said he, returning. " Had any per- son been there, I must have heard him." *' What chambers are adjoining to thesel" said I ; *' possibly some person is concealed in theml" *' No, no," replied the old man, very much agi- tated. " Beyond that wall, where the picture of the black and white knights is hung, are the rang- es of the eastern wing, it is impossible any person could have entered there; and on the other side are the chambers of this suit: leading to which they must pass your apartment." I endeavored to impute the voice we had heard to our own heated imagination; though, at th« same time, I did not conceive how it was possible the same delusion should deceive us all. It was with difficulty we prevailed on the old man to pro- ceed- -pausing every sentence, to listen. * After this terrible threat, Don Padilla coir- manaed me to assist him in carrying his new bride to her chamber; swearing that al] the fiends in hell should not deprive him of his prize, much less the perturbed spiritof a man murdered by robbers. I would have interposed with an observation, that my lady was not in a fit state to become a bridal 74 THREE SPANIARDS. chamber; and, that I doubted much if tlx^ever recovered. "Fool! driveling idiot!" cried he, knitting his brows, " I ask thee not advice : living or dead, all the fiends in hell shall not deprive me of her!" *• Such, Senors, was the marriage of Lady Zi- dana, whose picture Fernando wears. From that hour she never recovered her spirits; and Don Pa- dilla, after the birth of Lady Alinira, became djs- guoted at her reserve, and evidently hated her, more than he had ever loved her.' " What became of the daughter of Count Fe- rendezV said Fernando. " Dou Padilla, after a very 'little time, found > means to place her out at Gre'/iada ; and till my lady'b death, it was believed she was well provid- ed for : but, since then, I have never heard other than an uncertain report of her death : but how. Heaven alone can tell—or Don Padilla." *' Ha ! I am certain I heard a noise," cried Fernando." ** Thou shalt not go unrewarded!" said the voice we had before heard, and which threw us into the greatest consternation. We sought in vain to discover the mystery; soimding the walls to see where they were hollow, and examining every place where concealment was pofiisible. There remained no longer a doubt but we hfid been observed and overheard, and that by an enemy ; but who it could jiossibly be, we had no moans to discover. Gonzalez was very much affected, and we bad much difficulty to iranquilize his terror, by assur- ances of our protection let what would happen. " I have," said he, " this consolation, that my intentions are just ; and I will trust that Heaven will not suiTer the guilty always to triumph." " You aievery right," replied I; virtue and a ritfht intention, will preserve «.s tranquil amidst tiar.goi- ; nor u ill P.oviJcnce fail to bring veu- THREE SPANIARDS. 75 ffeance on the guilty. Go now to rest, my good Gonzalez, your years require the nourishment of sleep; wc are young and inured to hardship, we will watch; and, if the intruder dares to appear, he will find that, though weak, I have yet a sol- dier's arm!" " Yes, yes," said Fernando, " an arm that has already dispatched one murderer to his grave, and I trust, would not fail in combating another." After Gonzalez had retired, we spent several hours in reflecting and conversing on the singular and almost incredible events we had heard. It appeared clear, that Don Padilla had been an actor in the tragedy of Count Feiendez ; it was credible that passion might instigate him to the murder of his friend ; but here were others, which arose in strange and fearful array. The death of Emira apf)eared more than suspicious; the sudden disappearance of Pedro and 'I'eresa was equally unaccountable. His cruelty to Lady Zidana and her daughter, of whose fate we were ignorant, raised our detestation. But, though we could easily allow for any extravagance of human pas- sion, oiu" belief was staggered, and our senses con- founded, when the wandering spirit of Count Fe- rendez crossed our thoughts; and we should have treated the whule as a chimera, had not our own experience staggered all the effects of a liberal ed- ucation. Fernando remained with me during the night, but it passed without interruption. On the fol- lowing morning the body of the ruffian Lopez was buried on the spot where he had fiiUen ; he having been for several days exposed to the view of visi- tants, that he might be claimed if known, but no owner could be discovered, nor any news learnt of his companion, who had made good his retreat po secretly, that, from the imperfect description I could give, no information could be gathered. THREE SPANIARDS. CHAPTER VI. . . . . . *Ti8 gone. *Twas but my fancy, or perhaps the wind Forcing his entrance thro' some hollow cavern. No matter what — I feel my eyes grow weary. Shakspeare. On the fifth day of my residence in the Castle of Montillo, I found myself so much recovered, that I ventured in the evening to walk in the garden, accompanied by Fernando and the ladies. They seemed to take pleasure in leading us ov- er this elegant little place, where a variety of ex- otic plants, with flowers from Peru and Mexico, flourished as in their native climes. Aromatic shrubs from Arabia were planted in parterres, and.'filled the air with the most delightful perftime: a clear and winding rill watered the groves, invit- ing to repose by its murmuring sound, and tempt- ing the feet to rove amidst the freshness of ever- greens. At the end of a grove of orange and cit- roa trees, was a small arbor, formed of marble pillars, clear and beautiful as the Parean stone; between these was a curious lattice work of gilt canes, which admitted at once the air and the ligiit. Roses and jessamines were entwined in the net work: and Persian geraniums, which yield a mu;;- ky scent, crept along the base. In this beautiful arbor were several fine paint- ings on fanciful subjects: and cushions of crimson velvet invited to repose. " It is here," said Almira, •* that my sister and I often pass the evening. How do you approve of our taste. Cavaliers'?" *' Nothing," replied I, **can be more charming! On the right we see only objects of beauty, flow ers interspersed with fruits and shnibs: on thii left the mountains of Morena near up their frown- ing heads : aud the tnrrets of tlie cattle gloom THREE SPANIARDS. T7 over the deep forest. Before us runs the limpid Hrook, babbling over pebbles it has polished to briglitness. The air perfumed breathes freshness through these living lattices: but the most beauti- fil of nature's productions are the fair nymphs whirh preside in the temple." Virginia replied only with a look and a blush: but Almira, laughing, answered, " You are ex- tremely polite, Senor; but what is your opinion of those nymphs, cousinl" Fernando replied, " my opinion is perfectly the same. Yet, to my taste there is something want- ing to relieve the silence of the scene. Music, such as we heard the oilier night from some unseen performers, would render this a little fairy tem- ple." " If that be all," replied Almira, with an oblig- ing air, it would be a pity you should not be satis- fied with our favorite place — Sister, sing him the ballad that lielongs to the painting there, facing the door, of the lady walking upon the sea." " That is too long, sister," replied Virginia. " Beside., it is a doleful ditty, and fit only for mel- ancholy people." *' Then pi ay oblige me with it," said Fernando. " Are you then melancholyl" asked Virginia. " I thought nobody could be sad but those who belonged to this castle." " And why, cousin," said I, " should the inha- bitants of (his castle be more melancholy than oth- ers 1 Believe me, there are many heavy hearts un- der light countenances." " Well, well," cried Almira, ** that we do not doubt. Let us now have the song, sister: we will accompanv it with our instruments. It is a very old story, Cavaliers; we learned it from a wan- dering ballad-singer, who learnt it from a Scotch prisoner at Carthagena, and we made it the sub- ject of that picfure, where you see the lady walk- ing on the waves, near those frightful rocks, al- most as frightful as the black mountains above ue." 7d THREE SPANIARDS. After some Httfo perM^ion ViiYmia tuned her lote, nni, tccotbpameil 1^ her «ister ou a guitar, entertaSned us with the aimpie ballad of which this is a copy. HIALMER AND GERTRUDE. ▲ SCOTTISH BALLAD. Softly dash'd the pensive ocean. Gently sigh'd the passing gale. To the rocks the flushing motion Seem'd to tell a plaintive tale. When a maid, at eve retiring, Stray'd along the sandy shore. And the lamp of day expiring. Shed its glad'ning light no more. Wanton in the wind and cheerless Flow'd her loose and lovely hair; Mild her look; but, ah! how Every motion of the fair ! Dress'd in weeds of saddest sable, Dress'd in robes of mourning hue ; (Weeds to tell the mind unable. Speak alone the sorrow due.) Now she paused in thoughtful ndness. Round she glanc'd her trembling eye. Wild as touch'd with kindling madness. Frowning at the low'ring sky. Now advancing quick, now slowly. Sudden starts betray'd her mind; Then she to the ground bent bwljr, List'ning to the sighing wind. THREE SPANIARDS. f» On a rock that rou|h projected^ Where the ragged saphire grew; And the blacken 'd steep erected Barriers to the rising view. Careless sat the lovely maiden, Careless on the sea-beat shore; Sick at heart, witii grief o'erladen. She ne'er heard the waters roar. ** Here," she cried, " he used to meet m«; On thfs rock Hialmer brave. Oft at eve was wont to greet ma Ere he tried tlie trecherous wave. O! my lov'd Hialmer, never. Never shall my soul forego, Those fond ties that death would sever. With the ruthless grasp of woe. Love our hearts with bonds united, Pure as is celestial flame ; Sacred as the truth we plighted, In the holy Virgin's name. Cruel, cruel death! to sunder Two whose hearts together grew : Could not some less noble plunder Satisfy thy greedy viewl Brave and noble was my lover. Bravest of the mountains brow ; Terror filled the lawless rover, Shrinking from his threat'ning frown. When the winds blew bleak and cheerkeit Howling o'er the heathy waste. Then Hialmer 'lone and fearlesf. O'er the sward the robber trac'd. 80 THREE SPANIARDS. OA at midnight has he sallied On the proud and Danish foe; ' Oft his country's courage rallied. To return their vengeful blow. Caladonia long sh<'il\ mourn him, (He .of all the chiefs the pride:) All their pray'rs can ne'er return him, Ne'er restore him to his bride. He pursu'd the Danes embattled, O'er the black and faithless waves: Bark to bark the lances rattle, Wounds and death the warrior braves. Nought could stay the direful clangor. Nought the rage that Scotia fir'd; Burning with revengeful anger, In the waves the Danes expir'd. But the battle gain'd and over, • Round the victors tempests sweep, Furious spirits o'er them hover, Adding terrors to the deep, O! my lov'd Hialmer, hear me. Hear me in the silent main j With thy wonted accents cheer me. From the green and liquid plain. Ah! what voice, or whisp'rii)g spirit. Does thy Gertrude faintly calH Who can sounds like these inherit'? Sounds that tremble as they fall." From the sea-bed undulating. Rose a mist of deepest blue ; Spreading wide — then dissipating. Left a bodied form in view. THREE SPANIARDS. Thrice it Gertrude called, jind, sighing, Thrice it beckon"d to the maid ; Gertrude, with the call complying, Hasten'd to the well known shade. O'er the briny sands long pacing, Where the sea-weeds gently wav'd ; Still the rocky mazes tracing. By the rising billows lav'd. She pursu'd the warrior, fleeting Through the shades that night o'erspreadj Till the tide denied retreating, And the rocks hung o'er her head. Here he sudden paus'd and, bending To the wild and frightful maid, "Gertrude ! Gertrude ! this the ending, This our bed of love," he said. "Here beneath the waves transflucid. Many a spirit happy dwells: Amber groves, and domes pellucid, Deck'd with weeds, and glitt'ring shells. From retreats, where sea-nymphs daily, Hymn their songs of love and war: And the wand'ring spirits gaily. Join in chorus from afar. Haste then, Gertrude, haste my dearest, 'Tis Hialmer bids thee come: Is it death, or waves thou fearest In thy passage to the tombl Gradual then the spirit sinking, Beckon'd with deceitful smile. Gazing wild, nor longer thinking, Loosen'd sands her feet beguile. Plunging in the sorrowing ocean, Ev'ry sense of danger fled : And the wave's returning motion, Clos'd forever o'er her head. VOL. I. 6 THREE SPAMAllDJ>r. Oft when moon light's pensive lustre. Trembles on the curling pool. And the winds have reas'd to blaster, Sighing faint at ev'ning cool. Hand in hand, are seen to wander, O'er the deep, these spirits dear; As the billows smoothly meander. Now are seen, now disappear. Or when black'ning tempests roaring. Threat to wash the bending skies: Gertrude's spirit loud deploring, Warns the seamen vvilh her cries. Th^ir of this ballad was simple and pathetic; it r^Hy^xl me of the stories of ancienJ times, wheiq^Hess maids had too frequently to deplore the sucH«chaiices of a barbarous warfare. The subject bWhis tale afforded us matter for conver- sation : and we forgot the hours as they passed, till the sun had withdrawn his last ray, and left us in the stilness and soberness of night. Almira then played us the evening Hymn, while I sat with Virginia, leaning against the lat- tice frame, and reflecting on the probability, that not many days would part us ! and that I knew not if we should ever meet again. I sighed deep- ly at this reflection. Virginia looked on me with an expression that penetrated my heart, and spoke more than many sentences. *• Ah! my fair cousin," said I, taking her hand, when her sistrr had ceased to play, " what a deli- cious scene would this be if it were not transitory. My soul feels itself, and would willingly remain here, but how soon must it tear Itself away!" *« And must you soon leave usl" said she, with an half-suppressed sigh. "Yes," replied I: «« I am not ignorant, Virginia, of your father's dispo- sition : it will be impowible we ihould rexuaia af- ter Ilia arrival." THREE SPANIARDS. 89 '* Most true," returned she, looking down. *' My father will be very angry that you were ev- er admitted; but he did not see you pale, bleeding, end wounded, or his heart might have pitied you." " And did your heart then pity me, Virginia!" «iid I, with a feeling I had never before exjieri- enced, and which now I cannot define. I fell her hand flutter as I held it, but she returned me no answer; and, in that moment I formed the deter- mination of making her my wife. Ahnira endeavored, by a thousand little arts, to engage Fernando in particular conversation ; but he had too much experience of the world not to perceive her partiality, and too much honor to encourage what he had no inclination to return. The charms he had painted in possessing an origi- nal, such as the picture of Lady Zidana, rendered al. other insipid; though he would at times, join with l1^e in ridiculing such a fancy. Beside, there appeared in his eyes, too much of Don Padilla in the features of Almira. But I see, my dear Mar- quis, I must be delicate on this point; and, per- haps, it is well for you both Fernando did not see with your eyes. I endeavored, during this conversation, to strike out some means of corresponding with Vir- ginia when I should be in Madrid; but none ap- peared possible, unless through the hands of Gon- xalez — and I much_doubted whether he would ven- ture. It was easy to perceive that the interrup- tion of last night had sat heavy on his mind; and he, no doubt, reproached himself with having in- advertently, betrayed a secret, which for so many years he had carefully guarded; and which, if known, would expose him to the worst vengeance of his master. I did not dare mention these sug- gestions to Virginia, much less the secret which related to her father ; for, though both sisters wondered and lamented at his melancholy and mo- r.f>se disposition, they were far from entertaining any of those suspicions, which in our eyes appear- ed certaintiet). 84 THREE SPAMARDS. It was almost dark before we could think of re- turning to the castle. Whilst we remained at supper, some dispatches arrived from Tolosa rela- tive to the troops, which 1 gave Fernando instruc- tions how to answer ; and a private letter from my mother, which 1 retired to my chamber to read. It contained a long detail of my father's suffer- ings during his last illness, his frequent wishes for my presence, and many family particulars, which retjuired my speedy return to Madrid. I became quite melancholy at the sorrowful sen- timents it contained; and ray mind giving itself up to a long series of thinking, I found my spirits become so dejected, that I kneyv not how to ac- count for it. Undoubtedly this imbecility of mind was prin- cipally occasioned by love. 1 know of no passion that more relaxes the mind, its chief pleasure con- sists in solitude and contemplation : to this I might add my mother's letter, which so unman- ned me, that a thousand fancies floated in my brain. The moon slowly advanced over the dark wav- ing forest, and shed its beams through my case- ment. I arose from my chair to meditate on the solemn view, when nature enjoyed repose. The dark scenery, which in one huge mass extended before the window, spread over me a sensation of awe ; and, for a time, I remained struck with the sublimity of my imagination. A faint and distant light aroused my attention ; it moved slowly amongst the trees, and seemed to approach the castle. I fancied I could perceive the figure of a man, whose ghastly features were shaded with horror by the dim light which he carried. He E)ent be- neath a load, which seemed to own the human form ; and the thought crossed my mind thai it migiit possibly be the assassin Jacques, carryioff away the dead body of his comrade, when he could veuture with safety to tear it from the ground. THREE SPANIARDS. 85 Something of fear crept over me at the remem- brance of that eventful night, when I had so strangely received warning of my father's death, &.nd so nearly received my own. I could not whol- ly avoid apprehension at the distant sight of a man whose dealings in blood 1 had so mufh reason to know; and 1 watched hid motions with anxiety. The distance deprived me of certainty, and I lost Lim in an angle of the garden wall, along which he seemed to have taken his course. I was greatly disturbed at this incident, as I knew not but I might run some danger from tho revenge of tliis villain, who could not be ignorant of my residence in the castle. I leaned u|ion the casement of the window, revolving a thousand ideas: by degrees my mind assumed its tone, from reflecting, that the same Power which had hither- to, might continue to protect me. The gentle sighs of the wind, which scarce wa- ved the tops of the trees, seemed to whisper sad sounds: and I enjoyed in ecstacy, the pleasing sensations that crept over me. " Now," tliouglit I, " if some heavenly choristers were to tune their instruments, and in sweet hymning, warble some celestial song, could the abodes of Paradise furnish a more pleasing pleasure." 1 listened, as if expecting some strain would reach me on the breeze— but the wind came, and sighing passed away. A few stars glittered in the firmament, and 1 gazed upon them with awful satisfaction. " How magnificent is all this!'' snid J to myself: " worlds roll upon worlds, and har- mony guides their course! What then is man, little and insignificant man, amidst all the grandeur of creationl" My heart became heavy at this reflection. I niihdrew from the window, and sat down upon a chair, leaning with my arms upon the table — e\e\y noise in the castle was hushed into silence. 1 re- mained fixed in my situation, having no inclination 10 ?Icep, and enjoying the sadnsse that hung in 16 THREE SPAMAPvDS clouds over nie,when the clock struck twelve, rever- berating with solemn sounds through the castle. It reminded me of the eventful incidents Gonza- lez had repeated, and I looked round with a sort of expectation, that some fearful form would start upon me through the duskiness of my chamber; for I had no other light than the rays of the moon, which scarcely rendered objects visible. A partial ray fell upon an old picture, which hung on the side of the room that faced me. It was an ancient battle-piece; in which a tourna- ment was exhibited before a lady, who stood by herself in the gallery of an interior court, the sole witness and arbiter of merit. The knights were one of them in black, the other in wliite armor. The black knight had driven his lance into the bo- dy ol his opponent, and the blood trickled down tlie side of the white horse, on which the white knight rode. The light of the moon but faintly showed the coloring; and I remained leaning on the table, with my eyes steadily fixed upon the body of the falling knight. While I thus continued to gaze, I fancied that the canvass moved, and that the wounded knight retreated backwards from the black knight, who pressed upon him. The white knight eontiuued slowly to retreat, and tlie black knight moved some paces back- wards, as if to give velocity to his next onset. The delusion of my imagination was such that I did not perceive that the whole canvass slided back, parting in the centre, till my eves were struck with the figure of a man standing in the va- cancy. He looked into the chamber with caution ; while his murderous countenance gleamed with a smile of malice, highly raised by the red glare of a lamp he held in his left hand— his right contain- ing a poniard, on which my fancy (in the moment) observed marks ol blood. My hair almost stood erect on my head, and my blood ran chill to my heart, as I gazed upon th«» THREE SPANIARDS. 87 borrid spectre, without power to move, or to de- termine whether it were human, or no. He looked in my chamber w ith an inquiring eye, and particularly towards the bed: which, stand- ing at the opposite end of the room, prevented his perceiving me, as I sat in the shade. Hearing no sound and not perceiving mj lamp burning, he ven- tured slowly to step out into the room — the open- ing reached within two feet of the floor. He ad- vanced with a slow pace towards the bed, pausing to listen, the dagger raised in his hand. He stood over the bed a minute, whilst a ghastly grin of sat- isfaction spread over his livid features, his eyes sparkled, and he raised his arm to plunge the po- niard into his fancied victim. I now clearly understood this was no incorpo- real spectre. I was so overcome with the sense of the unexpected danger I had so narrowly escaped, that I groaned aloud; and, starting up with sud- den animation, I rushed forward, drawing my sword in an instant. Had I proceeded with more caution, I might have laid him dead at my feet, without his having any power to assault me — he being only armed with a short poniard. Alarmed by the noise I made, his countenance changed, and starting round, he beheld ray glittering sword with- in a yard of his throat. He gave a sudden and masterly spring to one side, by which he avoided the sweep of my weap- on; nor did he stay to hazard a second stroke, leaping through tie aperture, where he narrowly missed being cut in two— the point of my sword divided the leathern belt he had round him. I did not hesitate about following him through the private passage, along which he ran with snr- urising swiftness, continuing to carry the lamp. Notwithstanding my arm was not yet perfectly re- covered, I sensibly gained upon him, and should have overtaken him, had he not extinguished the lamp, iovolriog the narrow passage In total daik* 88 THREE SPANIARDS. I had now every thing to fear, if at that moment 1 could have been capable of an}' fear ; because, nothing was more easy than for this assassin to wait his opportunity in the dark. I listened, to mark which way his footsteps tended, still following my sword extended at arms length, and parrying from side to side, that he Blight not slip me, and cut off ray retreat. 1 continued to follow till I found myself in a large hall, where the moon-beams faintly shone upon the ponderous furniture, without serving to distinguish particular objects — the window being of stained glass. I now paused; for 1 had lost the sound of his footsteps, and I fancied that the villain had shel- tered himself in some corner, or behind the furni- ture, and might dart upon me, without my having power to v/ard the unseen stroke of death. This i>all was at a considerable distance from •ny chamber ; and now, when the ardor of the chase was over I felt the full danger of my situa- tion: exposed in a place of which I was wholly ignorant, and having near me a man who had the darkest intentions, and scrupled not at the meani «f executing them. I wondered that he had not used fire arms, which he was probably only pre- vented from by the apprehension of raising the scr- I shuddered at retracing the bewildered laby- rinth I had just trodden, and it was almost equally dangerous to remain where I was. From this re- mote situation it was impossible to alarm the peo- ple of the castle, and I stood for some time in a gloomy suspense. At length reflecting, that though the moon at present glimmered through the windows and pre- vented total darkness, it woidd in a short time sink from that side of the building, and leave me exposed to dangers I sbotild have no means to re- I turned round to seek the passage to my o\VQ THREE SPANIARDS. 89 chamber, when I fancied I could distinguish the obscure figure of the man stealing along the wall. I started forward, but he eluded my blow, and fled again through an opposite door. I had no doubt but that 1 should now overtake him ; and I continued to pursue till his footsteps were again lost, no longer echoing through the winding passa- ges. i\o pale beam of light shone upon the darkness around me, and I turned to retrace my way with caution, every step expecting to meet with the point of his dagger; nolliing being more easy than for him to fall upon me by surprise. 1 had no means to distinguish whether the way I took was right; and after winding about through several chambers, in place of returning (o the great hall, I found myself at the lop of a staircase, which, by the faint light of the moon, I did. not remember ever to have seen. I made no doubt but 1 was now on the eastern side of the castle, from whence it would be impossible to return by any of the great galleries, the terminating doors being always locked. I had now bewildered my- self so much, that I had lost the clue to those se- cret ways by which I had entered. Under these circumstances it became indifferent which way 1 should proceed, and 1 descended the stairs. I tii°n found myself upon the ground floor, which, as well as 1 could distinguish, was paved with marble. The moon had passed to the other side of the horizon, and left this part, of the castle in darkness. I went on, and found several doors leading into suits of chambers, all of which were fastened. About half way along the passage, I found one which stood half open. Without reflecting that it could not possibly lead me to the inhabited part of the castle, I ventured in, but was soon stopped by an opposite door, the key of which was in the lock. [ opened it, the hinges grating harshly with the rust they had gathered, and bo damp a 90 THREE SPANIARDS. Tapor issued forth, that I remained some minutes before I durst venture to enter. I tlien found my- self in a small chamber, the walls of which I could reach round with my sword extended. I moved slowly forward, and entered another room, which was much larger, and led into a fourth room, the opposite door of which was locked, and, like the second, the key remained. I judged by the length of these rooms that I had crossed the base of the eastern wing, and that this door would lead me into the gardens. This circumstance caused me to pause, from a certain reflection which occurred, that the assassin who had entered my chamber, was no other than Jacques ; and that through these doors and cham- bers he had found admission to the castle, locking them after him. I was pleased with this idea, and resolving to quit thirt wing of the building, and secure the en- trance, I turned the key and opened the door, when I found myself in another room, instead ol the garden I had expected ; but this disappoint- ment at that time was absorbed in a greater and more terrible feeling. The moon-beams shone full through the oppo- site window, reflecting on the objects before me. I fixed my eyes for a moment on the most horrible sight I had ever beheld — a sight which chilled the ciicl-ng blood in my veins, and overspread my soul with horror. I recoiled, suddenly back, and drew the door firmly too, with an impulse of terror, it closed with a thundering sound, that echoed hollow, and ran -ilong the whole pile of building. I stood some time in the most cruel agony of suspense ; when, reasoning myself into better judgment, I endeavored again to open the door, that I might be certain what I had seen was no de- ception, and that my mind might not remain with an image upon it of what was most terrible and d«tei>tiliuu h^ had uist in biji THREE SPANIARDS. S narrative; but his yenrs had weakened bia firm- ness; and his fears of Padilla's revenge being ev- er most strong, we determined to hold him in ig- norance, and to watch by ourselves, well armed, 00 the following night. CHAPTER VII. O now tor ever Farewell the tranquil mind, farewell content. Shakupeare. Having taken some refreshnieni, I laid down to iranquilize the ferment of my spirits, and, if pos- sibla to forget the terrific object I had seen in the moonlight chamber, as well as the phantoms of my dream which haunted me. Meanwhile Fernando, after replacing the pic- ture, and fastening it, so as it should not be open- ed without awaking me, went to make my excus- es to tlje ladies, by informing them, that the let- ters I had received from Madrid had detained me 80 far in the night, that I found myself not suffi- ciently well to rise before noon, when, for the first time, I would join them in the family dining- room. I arose much refreshed at noon, and joined this agreeable party, but I could not at once shake off ilie disquiet that preyed upon me. The sight of Virginia seemed even to increase it; as her looks and actions every instant recaled the visions of my slumbers. The afternoon was passed in little entertain- ments of music and singing; for, notwithstanding tile heat of the weather, we were too much satisfi- ed will) our society to separate; and some fr.i- |rant ' uits, presented us by Gonzalez, greatly re- l.?di'-d us. 96 THjvEE SPANIARDS. FerDand'o, to be more at ease, had unloosed his wtdstceat, and the picture which he always wore attracted the eye of Almira. " Ah ! ha ! Cavalier," said she, feigning to lau^h, " that I suppose is the portrait of some fa- vorite lady'?— Will you permit me to see your choicel" Fernando could not avoid giving the picture in- to her hands, which she no sooner saw, than she exclaimed — " Holy Virgin ! Senor, how came you to wear the picture of my mother 1 — Tell me, did you ever see her*?" To these questious Fernando replied — *'That he knew not till lately tlie resemblance, and merely wore it by way of ornament; that he never had had the happiness of seeing the lady her mother ; and, that he wondeied how she herself should know tlie likeness, since, to the best of his recollection, she was an infant when her mother died." " That is very true,** replied she, with a sigh. " Though children of difterent mothers, neither of us ever knew the blessings of maternal aflection : indeed, so obscure is the death of these dear rela- tions, that we know little more of them than their pictures inform us. You shall visit our gallery of family paintings, and then you shall compare the likenesses: but I must confess, a miniature softens down the countenance, and makes tlie face appear handsomer." *' This lady is exquisitely handsome," answer- ed Fernando; "what think you, cousin 1 (turn- ing to Virginia,) See how admirablythe Moorish habit becomes her! In ray opinion, were she no re- lation of mine, the painting merits preservation." " Come, sister," said Almira, " letlus show the Cavaliers the pictures ; I know they will be enter- tained." ♦'But do you not remember," said Virginia, *♦ that our father has forbid us to go there without himl — When ho returns, the Cavaliers can attend him and be can give them the whole history." THREE SPAMARD.S. 97 '* But would he give us the history '*" oi i I Fernando, his eyes sparkling w ith meani.>(j. "Think yoti that he — " I interrupted him, by expressing a \vi.^h to see these pictures, which I had not done bcfuie, and to prevent the ladies from observing any singular- ity in my friend's meaning. I observed, tliat per- haps, Don Padilla was choice of theiu, that lio feared they might be injured if visited in his ab- sence. I saw that Virginia wavered in her own mind — wished to oblige us, and yet fearing to disobey her father: but the arguments of her sister at last overcame her scruples — Gonzalez was sent for to bring the keys. The old man was not satisfied at the summons, and he ventured to express as much. " You know, my honored ladies," said he, " that his Excellenza would be displeased, were he to come to the knowledge of your having broken his or- ders; but I am sure the Cavaliers (looking at us) would not wish any words should arise from their curiosity." " Nonsense!" replied Aim Ira ; ''do you not know that my father is many miles distant 1 and how should he ever know that we just went into the room, and out againl" "Ah, Lady!" replied Gonsalez, "many an H'-tion more secret than this, has been published by the winds." " Do not let us go, sister; we had better not," said Virginia. " Just as you please, my dear,'* replied Almi- ra; "Gonzalez talks as if it was a mighty crime; but, for my part, if the Cavaliers will at- tend me, I will show the pictures myself. Give me the keys Gonzalez : I wonder what harm we shall do to inanimate canvass'?" Fernando and myself ruade some faint oppor' VOL. I. 7 99 THREE SPANIARDS. tion; though we, in fact, could not oonceiTe that any ill could arise from so innocent a cause. "Well," said Gonzalez, '' if you are" determin- ed to go, there are the keys; but you must not in- sist upon my attendance — 1 know my duty better." As he" pronounced the last sentence, lie looked towards us with an expression of meaning I could not comprehend; and taking the hand of Virginia, she reluctantly accompanied us to tlie picture gallery. Almira drew up the curtains, and engaged our attention by a comparison of the two pictures. 1 ndmired the resemblance Lady Emira bore to Virginia; and, though my friend gave the prefer- ence to Lady Zidana, I could not agree with him — she wanting the clear carnated complexion which I always preferred to a brunette. We nad been about half an hour employed in the gallery, when Gonzalez entered in haste and perturbation. ••.Haste instantly away!" cried he. "Return this moment, I beseech you, to the dining-room.'* " But why so much hurry 1" said I. "We are undone!" cried he: "the most un- foreseen circumstance! — Hasten away this mo- ment!"' We implicitly obeyed him, though ignorant of his reasons; and, locking the door, he hiirried down the back stairs, bidding U3 not tarry till we got to the dining-room. "What do you tliink of tiiis intccruptioni" paid I ; " what can possibly have thrown the old mrin into such a tremor 1" " O! I know not," said Virginia; " but I can scarcely breathe with apprehension." Fernando broke out into a laugh. " Ridiculous, my dear cousin V said he: " why should you be so' apprehensivel This old fellow has a mind to pu»i.$h us for presuming to differ in opinion from himself: depend on it, you will find the whole a trick of lu« inTentioD." THREE SPANIARDS. 09 ** I fear not," answered Virginia, ** Gonza>eB is not of a light disposition. I never knew him jest in my life." " Here comes one that does jest," said Fernan- do. " Here, Hugo ! where are you running in such haste?" " O, Senors !" cried Hugo, out of breath, '* such a surprise!— I am all, as one may say, out of sorts. I should as soon have expected to be hanged !" " That you are very likely to be," said Fer- nando; "but you would not be in haste to the g.iiiows. Say then where you were running, and what has iiappened^' " I only heard it by thojway," said he; and ran away directly to tell my fellow servants, who are all at sixes and sevens, and no more expected " " Tedious fellow!" cried Fernando; " what is it yt;u a;c chattering about"? what did you hearl what did you expecil" "Why, I did not cxpe(;t to meet you in an ill humor, Senor: and what I heard I believe to be true, and that makes me in such haste to repeat it." " It is to no purpose," said I, " that we trifle with this fellow. Hugo knows you are not his master, and he takes liberties." " I have no doubt," answered Fernando, " but my first suspicions were true; and this fellow wag sent purposely to heighten our apprehension." I gave credit myself to this suggestion, and we walked leisurely on, till we came to the dining- rorim. Ahnira entered first, but she started back with a scream, and all pressed forward to see the object of her dismay. We were struck dumb at sight of Don Padilla who, by onr dekiy, had had time to enter the dining-room before us. He was pacing the room, his brows bent into the severest frown I had ever beheld. You ha^e seen. Mar- quis, what a gloomy mortal he usually is—but then he looked mischief personified. Virginia half ran towards him, but he did not 100 THREE SPANIARDj^. deign to notice her ; and lier courage failing, aiie was obliged to lean upon my arm to a chair. Al- mira was very little better, stammering out some- thing about surprise at his sudden return, which he did not think worthy of answer. In this unpleasant situation we remained for some minutes. Tlie color went and came alter- nately in the cheeks of my friend: and, fearing that his feelings might betray him into rashness, I summoned up my resolution, and suppressed my pride at thi» cavalier treatment. *' Don Padiila," said I, *'you are, perhaps, aa much surprised at finding unex{>ected visitants in your casile, as these ladies are at your return without notice, that they might have prepared to receive you in a more suitable manner." Still he remained silent, and I went on. "I can assure you, that this intrusion of ours upon your hospital- ity, was by no means from a trivial motive ; and I should wish " '* He stopped, and stood opposite me, fixing his keen eye upon me while I continued: *' And 1 could wish, that the obligation I have received from your family in your absence, may be the means of promoting a more extensive inter- course in future." " Who are youl" said he, contemptuously. *' Whoever I am," replied I, coolly, " give rae leave to say, Don Padiila, / know who you are!*' A malicious smile bent his features. " You know who I am!" said he: ** be so good as to ex- plain who that is.'* I had already condemned myself for my haste; and now replied with a bow: " The father of these ladies; and, as such, en- titled to my esteem, as I shall forever remember the infinite debt of gratitude I owe them.'* " So shall I," said he. " But who is your, comrade 1" Fernando, who had not the same measures to keep am I, and who had listened with a burning TflHEE SPAxNIARDS. 101 fpirit to tiie aitci\ation, replied with a higli and i?tcin voire: " Don Padilia! it is for miscreants, murderers and assassins to have comrades ! You ask who I am 1 — At present I am a stranger: but vou ahall one day know me ! The man who could trampla upon the claims of friendship, may well be excua- ed the rights of hospitality !" " Ha !" cried Padilia, a livid tinge colouring his dark features, " am I betrayed V " Your fears betray you," replied Fernando. ** Guilt will render ruffians cowards!" " What do you aim at by such an epithet 1" cried he, stamping upon the ground. " Am I be- trayed by my own peoplel— betrayed into the hands of a desperado, an adventurer ! Here, hslp! help !" At these words he diew, and made a push at Fernando. Virginia fainted away. Almira ut- tered a loud scream, and caught the left arm of her father, while I ran to separate the combat- tants, who eyed each other with inveterate fury. The servants, who had heard their master's cries rushed into tlie room; but, being unarmed, I held them at bay with the point of my sword, while Padilia, almost choked with madness, com- manded them to seize Fernando. '* This is an extreme foolish business on all parts," cried I. " Don Padilia, you must allow this is a shameful outrage upon persons of our quality ; and you, Fernando Coello, govern your resentment." " Is this Fernando Coellol" said Padilia, sud- denly. '* Yes," replied I, " it is your nephew, the son of your sister Isabella— Surely you will not treat him thus on his first visit 1 Servants you may retire." Don Padilia did not contradict my order ; he sat down in gloomy silenre.. and my friend sheath- irg his Fword, pLiced hiineelf in a chair, plHvinf*. 102 THREE SPANIARDS . with the hilt, without noticing the situation of the ladies. Virginia yet remained upon the floor, and her sister hung over her, uttering the most piercing cries. Agatha, the ladies' attendant, entered with some essence and water, and 1 flew to assist in recover- ing Virginia. Don Padilla eyed my attention without speaking ; he seemed to revolve in liis mind matters oi"«^reater moment — now looking at Fernando, and then upon me When Virginia recovered, heordered his daugh- ters to retire; and then, in a tone of greater com- placency, inquired my name and quality; and how I had met with, the accident in the forest, which he had slightly heard from the servants. I replied, that 1 was the Marquis Albert de Denia; that my mother was sister to his first wife. Lady Emira. The color rose in his face at this rer^'Jrk; but biting his lips, he remained cJ'lprf. 1 h f, evc.'y i^a'^iui ti*^ believe, that the assassin Jacques had heln some «'»rir.'!|»unden<-e with Pu •dillii; in which case, to apjjeHi too ignorant, vias as dangoious as know nig too much- 1, therefore, observed, that having been benighted in the wood, I had clambered a tree to sleep, when I was snd- denly awakened by the sound of voices beneath me. " 1 insist upon it," said one; " he shall not live, (Don Padilla started) — are we to take pay for nothing: I scorn it, Lopez." — ("did they say thjsl" said Padilla, impatiently.) I*took no no- tice of this question, but went on. " I am of your opinion, Jacques," replied tl.e other, who I suppose was called Lopez; •' 1 will not eat my biead in idleness — Don Padilla — (he at the meiition of his name turned pale, and re- mained silent)— Don Padilla shall certainly die !' ♦' Here," said Jacques, " shall it be on this spot 1 Many a man sets out on a journey he nevsr re- tuiiiB from.'' (Padilla trembled and looked round UiK ixjuih) — " IN'o uot here," replied Lopea, " in THREE SPANIARDS. 103 Iht hole further on, where the trees hang over the water. You remember that place Jactiiiesi" Don Padilla started up, and clapped his hand upon his ■word, while his eyes flashed with fury — again he sat down, and I continued. " At tliese words I lost my patience, and leap- ing down upon tliem, sword in hand, one of them was slain; and the other, taking advantage of my fall, stabbed me in the arm. Your daughters sav- ed me from death in the morning; and I now re- turn thanks to you for the protection o<" your cas- tle." Padilla muttered a very ungracious welcome. His mind was disturbed by the account I had giv- en him, which involved in suspicion, the designs of the ruffians; a suspicion that was, in some de- gree, confirmed by their then being in the king- dom, when he supposed them according to their own account, slaves in Turkey. After a time spent in musing, he suddenly de- manded if 1 had seen, or could recollect the faces of these men'? I replied in the negative; the dark- ness being so great, tliEft I had difficulty to distin- guish their persons. He did not appear displeased with this reply; tliough he swore vehemently he would have tlie BCOHndrel sought for, and hanged upon the nearest tree. " Had you killed them both, Marquis," said lie, " you would have made me eternally yo'jr friend." " Thus it is,' thought I; "the tools of our ven- geance or ambition are terrors te ourselves. — No doubt he trembles for the consequence of that ingratitude, he himself has exemplified." ♦' 1 suppose,'' said he, after a gloomy silence of half an hour, you do not intend remaining in this part of the country many days after you are so well recovered 1 I understood at Tolosa, the troops were under marching orders." I perfectly comprehended this hint, and I an- •w«r«U — " th« death of my ^tber hat a mov *r- 104 THREE SPAMARDy. gent claim upon my presence at Madrid : and pos- sibly the new dignities I shall tlicieby receive, will prevent the necessity of my longej- leading -^ life of BO much hazard," " Then you were a soldier of necessity!" repli- ed he, Avithout any regard to delicacy, " You say right, it id a hazardous prolession." 1 had dome difficulty to qualify ray reply. '* It ie as Y(;u say," answered J, " tJut the necessity I labo: ud under was the calls of honor, and.lhe claii»,s of my country. Tht=e are pow erful arguments, Don Padilla." " Yes," cried Fernando, raising his head from the deep study he had fallen into ; but they are nst arguments every man can feel." He darted a look at Padilla, who perfectly un- derstood him, but made no reply ; and to turn the di.-;(;ourse, which I feared would again kindle into v. lath, I praised the situation of the castle, and tlie beauty of the scenery. Hp listened like a man V. lio does not attend. " You do not seem satisfied with its situation," guid Fernando. " For my own part I think I have seen a castle on the bank's of the Darro that was much more romantic, more suitable to reflection — You nnderstand me — " " I di)," replied Padilla, vising ; hut you do n:>t imdei stand me." Me wai- quitting the room abruptly, when sud- dciily recollecting himself, he turned to apologise to me; observing that he had many orders to gjve, a.id .•5t)me necessary arrangements to make after his aljsence. As soon as we were alone, Fernando gave way to a transport of rage. Insisting that we should, without sleeping again in the castle, return-to To- losa. " Model ate if you please, this frenzy of yours," r:ii(l I. " Consider the variety of interests we hrne to arrange, in the service of which pa.«sioTJ will on1\ be tietrimenfal. Don Padiila i:< a maw THREE .SPAMAIIDS. 105 of power. He possesses a large revenue from his acquired American fortune ; ^Y^lich is increased by the acquisition of his extensive domain, and ren- dered immense by the addition of the estates in th« province of Grenada. His income is equal to a Crince: and think you it will be an easy matter to ring a criminal like him (supposing him such) to justice. We must bury in our breasts every sus- picion, till time and opportunity shall bring for- ward the hour of retribution Reflect also, that my heart is engaged to Virginia, and you will then remember that Padilla is her father." " Well, well," replied he, " all this I have been • turning in my mind: but remember also, that I am under the most sacred engagements — engagements that I cannot break. Remember also, that this castle contains a secret, which, if told, may over- whelm all the power of Padilla in a moment." " Do not bring before me that horrid recollec- tion," said I, "The images of that chamber haunt my imagination: and this night I resolve to dis- cover if all my suggestions are true ; or whether the obscurity and terror of the moment had deceiv- ed my sight." " I will attejid you," returned Fernando: "thia is a business in which we are both deeply engag- ed ; no common affair must turn us to another pur- pose. Padilla will know that we have slept in different chambers, and it may rai^e his suspicion if we should vary that custom: mine is not far from yours, and 1 will be with you a few minutes before twelve." I had scarcely lime to agree to this proposal, when Gonzalez entered the room, under pretence of clearing away the fruit " I was afraid, Se- nors," said he, "how it would be ; my heart mis gave me when the ladies asked for the key. I could not account for it; but I have strange fore- bodings, at times." " Nothing new has happened, I hope," said I 106 THREE SPANIARDS. " Yes," replied he, ♦' his Excellenza has found out that you were all in the picture gallery, the curtain being left up. He has been in a terrible passion, and so scolded the voung ladies, that thej are crying their eyes out, poor souls ! 1 have come in for my sl^are ; but I am old and tough, used to many a storm that blows over me." " A savage !" exclaimed Fernando; "he is--" *• Hush ! Senor, pray do not let any body hear you. I am much mistaken if there be not some spy in the family. You remember the strange voice we heard that night V If 1 am betrayed, Se- nors, I know what will be t'.ie consequence." •' Comfort yourself, Gonzalez," said I; " hear and say ■othing to any body, and time may bring about strange events. We must soon leave the castle, possibly to-morrow ; be a guard over the ladies, and if any violence, from whatever motive, should be offered them or you, instantly dispatch a courier to my palace at Madrid, and we will bring a troop of cavalry, and pull his old building down about his ears." *' Gonzalez smiled at this expression; and, fear- ing to be missed, hastened away. I was very much pleased that a correspondence had thus been established. It waa needless to clear up to him the knowledge we had of the person who had oc- casioned the interruption, as it would only sub- ject him to a thousand fears, and perhaps cause him to leave" the castle. We saw little more of Don Padilla that nigljt; he was, or pretended to be, absorbed in business; neither did the ladies appear, which made us sus- pect they were under a command to keep their chambers. I retired early to my o^wn, where I prepared every thing for our undertaking ; put- ting my pistols in order, and providing my lamp. Scime ariangeinenls for my intended journey the ensuing day kept me employed; for I was aeter* mined no lorger to ilelay my absence from Mad rid, vhcre m^ prtveiscu was so uescescarv. THREE SPANIARDS. 107 The solemn hour of midnight arrived, and Fer- nando appeared very well armed; so that we had no occasion to fear an encounter w ith Jacques, even should he be supported by Don Padilla. We trimmed our lamp, and, to prevent accidents from the sudden closing of a door, or the current of air, Fernando lighted a taper. I gently drew back the canvass painting, which rolled into a niche, and, entering the opening, closed it behind us. We proceeded silently and cautiously, till we arrived at the gothic hall, where the unfinisheu feast remained. I was about to draw the curtains behind the chair of state, when I fancied that 1 heard the hol- low sounds of a passing footstep. We paused for a few moments, and all again became silent. I feared that our lights must betray us : for though we did not apprehend much personal dan- ger, we knew not how to excuse to Don Padilla the unwarrantable freedom we were taking, and which in our own eyes, appeared wanting of hon- or. The motive, however, was strange, and out of the ordinary occurrences of life: common means of proceeding were abortive resources; and the necessity laid upon us became, in our eyes, suffi- cient excuse. I drew the curtain with caution, and looking round, all appeared dark and vacant. We ven- tured forward treading light as midnight robbers, the echoing hall catching and returning the small- est sound. Our lights reflected our persons in lengthened shadows on the wall : and that fear superstition inspires, irresit.;tably touched our minds, as we re- collected the several incidents, that had occurred to ourseKes. We descended the staircase, down which I had fallen, and passed on till we came to the door of those chambers where 1 had been so shocked with human depravity. The key was no longer in the lock : a pluin indicatioa Uiat iiom« person had 108 THREE SPANIARDS. been there since myself; and an assurance that my senses had not wholly deceived me. We en- deavored to enter by force : but the strong door resisted all the efforts we were capable of making, without endangering ourselves by the noise. We paused to consider whether we eliould return to find other means of entrance. A faint ray of light darted across the fartherend of the passage, discovering to us a distant and nar- row flight of stairs, leading to a range of apart- ments, of which we had no knowledge. *' This flaring light will betray us," said I. ** If you will remain here with the lamp and taper I will venture to ascend those stairs, and see whence that light shines." Fernando would not readily agree to this propo- sal; he wished us to leave our lights burning upon the pavement, while we should go together. But I represented the danger of our making too much noise ; and the double service he would perform in coming to my assistance by surprise, if assistance should be necessary, as my assailants would not be prepared for his attack. Having prevailed on him to agree to my propo- sal, I walked cautiously forward, ascending the back stairs. The light shone steady on the land- ing, then suddenly disappeared, as if the door of the chamber, from whence it shone, had been clos- ed. I ventured forward, listening at every step I took. About twenty paces forward my ear caught the low sound of voices, but so'indistinct, that I could make out no one sentence. I paused, and in a few moments, a door on the right hand was partly opened, a stream of light shone foil in the gallery, and some person looked out, as if to see no intruder was near. He retired without closing the door, and I advanced, scarce daring to breathe. I ventured so near that I could distinguish the voice of Padilla, and the harsh tones ol some other, who spoke so low^ I had dif- ficulty to understand him. THREE SPANIARDS. 109 ** All thia that you tell me is truel" said Padil- la. *' True your Excellenza." " And you heard that old dotard amusing tiiem with all the lies that are circulated by the super- stitious fools about himl" " Yes, your Excellenza. He mentioned the strange entrance of Count Ferendez, on your wedding night; upon which they made their com- ments. I am certain the Marquis overheard more than was sufficient when he was roosting in that tree." " And for which your tongues deserve to be cut out," said Padilla ; we must consult about him; he must pay for his curiosity \" " Aye, aye, by the Holy Peter !" said the ruffian, whom I had no doubt was Jacques; " If I take him in hand, he will have fight work of it ; 'tis what I owe him for the murder of my friend. He was very curi- ous in his inquiries about the ladies." " Do you say sol" cried Padilla. " Do you think he has any suspicions!" " 'Tis as certain as death," replied Jacques; " he hns more than suspicion: I would have done his business thai night, had I found him snug." I shuddered at the narrow escape I had had ; and not without a sense of the danger I ran, from having raised upon me so inveterate an enemy. He went on : " Invite them to remain with you some days. They will not enter into your motive. There are many ways to dispose of a guest !" " By my troth are there !" said Padilla, in a raised voice, *' you have hit it, Jacques : these sparks are not to be played with. Fernando is a fiery-headed fellow, and has a claim from his an- cestors, never yet settled, to these very estates." " I know it," replied Jacques; "I have thought on that. We will settle his claim, however, with more certainty than law." Don Padilla, broke into a laugh. It was the 110 THREE SPANIARDS. laugh of malignant triumph : and had I at that 'moment possessed the power, it is probable I should have made no scruple of arresting their in- tentions. •' Let us now go," said Padilla; " have you tlie keyl We must pciform the necessary duty." I inquired within myself what this duty could be. Had it relation to the things I had seen in the moonlight chamber; or, were there yet deeper or more horrible secrets in the gloomy walls of this antique building. " Why ndt be a witness to this duty !" tliought I. " If il relates to that chamber they must pass these stairs— I shall have time to reach Fernando, and we will take our stations to- gether." I retreated gently down the stairs, and passing quickly along the passage, was surprised to find Fernando absent. The lamp remained burning on the pavement, but the taper was gone. ''Surely," said I to myself, " this is very imprudent — what succor could he have given me in case of necessi- ty'? — But what motive could have led him from his postl it must have been momentous. He did not pass me I am certain; and surely cannot be re- turned to my chamber." I waited with the greatest impatience and ap- prehension, expecting that Padilla and Jacquea would every moment appear upon the opposite stairs, and find me exposed before them, in a place where theit crime would run no danger of detec- tion. I durst not venture to call, ujid my imagi- nation began to picture some unexpected tragedy. The old bell of the castle sounded the solemn hour of one. Its vibrations seemed lengthened io my ear; where it had not ceased trembling, when a Wight light darted from a door on the left hand at a distance, and gave me to expect the return of Fernando. I advanced a few paces to meet him, wondering what could have induced him to enter that paa- •age in my absence ; but my wonder was changed THREE SPANIARDS 111 into astonishment on beholding a phenomena sin- gular and unaccountable. The light, whose rays had broke upon the long and obscure passage, moved forward without visible cortductor, in the form of an ignis-fatuus, or marshy meteor; it mo- ved within a foot of the pavement, with a slow and even motion, and its light was fixed and clear, without wavering on the breath of the wind. I stood at a distance, watching this ominous ap- pearance and expecting what might ensue, nor did I many moments expect in vain. A tall figure, wrapped in a long cloak, and muf- fled round the head, walked solemnly into the pas- sage. The arn)s were crossed upon his breast, and but a faint outline beneath the drapery, marked its connection with the human form. I shuddered as this phantom drew near; as it perfectly brought to my mind the black figure I had beheld in my dream, within a few yards of the very. spot where I then stood. Its size was equal to that of Padilla, and I should have supposed it himself in disguise, had it not been for the super- natural flame which moved forward before. I wanted courage to speak or to move, waiting with terror for the event. He ma*ed forward, in a moving posture, until he came within a few yards of where I stood, then solemnly raising the hood of the cloak which en- veloped his head, and throwing wide his right arm I beheld beneath, the dress of a soldier stained with blood. I started at the sight. I doubted not but I saw before me the perturbed spirit of Count Ferendez, and my knees trembled beneath me. His counte- nance was pale and bloodless— his eyes were wild yet without lustre— and death seemed stamped up- on his yellow forehead. His lips were without motion; and, as he slowly passed me, he pointed to the door from which I had seen him enter. Once, and but once, I had seen this dreadful vis- ion of disturbed immortality, on the eventful night 11^ THREE SPANIARDS. which had announced the death of my father. The indistinct view that I then had, imprinted for ev- er, on my memory the terror of features not to be forgotten : and -it was not until the phantom had ascended the great stairs, that I found courage to remove from the place where I stood. I could not doubt but the motion it had made to the farther door, concerned my friend ; whom 1 now judged to have seen the same appearance in my absence, and followed it into some danger. I had reason to believe, from what I had seen in the moon-light chamber, that Don Padilla and Jacques were not the only inhabitants of this dreary wing: and I shuddered with apprehension-, as I hastened to find my friend. The door which I entered opened into a wind- ing passage, which was arched, 'with masonry, very different from any part of the castle I had hitherto seen. I began to fear, from its solidity, that it led into the dungeons and vaults which ran beneath the whole building. My apprehensions were in part allayed, when I entered, by three descending steps and a narrow door, which, from the rust of its fastenings, seem- ed to have been closed for many years, into a cha- pel, evidently long in disuse. I waved my lamp in the air, to guide me through the deep gloom which seemed impenetrable: a cold «nd sacred stilness seemed to reside in the place, and to fasten on my mind with a reverential awe. Tall shadows seemed to move along the walls, as my lamp waved in the air. I called in a low voice, the name of Fernando ; but no sound, ex- cept faint echoes returned reply I began lo be extremely alarmed on his account; not being able to conjecture what misfortune could have befallen hirii. - I pausejd, and lookeJ round me with a reverence I cannot describe, and which we seldom feel. The oruaments of carved work were covered with dust and cobwebs. The cruci6x and the lamps were THREE SPAMARDS. U:* broken. Trophies of ancient military exploifs, waved their torn fragments in the air. 1 approach- ed the altar, on wliith a small crucifix, yet reaiain" ed, mildewed with tlump. I lowered uiy liiuip to look at the workm^^nship of the altar, and perceiv- ed on one side, an iron door, which opened into the wall, standing (jpen, and 1 had no doubt led into the family sepulchre. " Doubtless," thought I, " my dear Fernando has followed that terrible phanton into this place, and his fright has overcome him, surrounded by so many feaiful objects. I confess I did not feel any satisfaction in the thought of descending into this dai'k and frightfuJ abys5, but the claims of friendship suppressed this repugnance; and holding my lamp so as it was least liable to be extinguished, I ventured down the steps, which were loose and shook beneath my weight. The lamp which I held in my hand scarce served to render darkness visible; and I saw, with fear, tliat the lianie became every moment dimmer, till it twinkled like a star and expired, leaving me in the profoundest darkness. 1 called aloud on Fernando, but received no an- swer: the hollow vaults extending, and reverber- ating my voice to a distance, which left me to conjecture. 1 stretched out my hands, and found them resist- ed on one side by a pile of coffins, wfiich shook at the touch. I shuddered as if I had grasped a ser- pent, and turned round with intention to hasten fiom a place;»vheje the air was so rlamp, I had scarce power to respire, and where heaps of dead were extended in terrible array. In my haste I stumbled against something on the floor, and fell down. I reached out my hand, aA ter the first surprise, and felt an human body oo the ground before me. The blood ran cold to my heai t. My fingers traced over the face, it seemed warm l>cneath the tonch, and truth flashed upott my comprehension. vol,. I. 8 114 THREE SPANIARDS. ** It is Fernando," cried I, aloud, and scarce knowing what I said; " he is dying, and no help iii near !" the pang which I felt at that moment, I cannot attempt to describe — it was a sort of de- spair ; and, forgetting danger to myself, I drag- ged the body up the steps, which were clammy with subterranean dews, and happily gained the chapel. I tore open his clothes, and putting my hand upon his heart, a slight pulsation was perceptible. I raised the body on my shoulders, and being too much agitated to regard tritiing incidents, I ran through the apartments, notwithstanding the im- penetrable darkness. The air in the great hall was strong, and, placing him upon one of the chairs, I chafed his temples and breast, till he be- gan to breathe freely, ana by slow degrees, recov- ered. His recollection, however, was extremely confused; and he cried frequently, " O! the hor- rid vision ! take me away, my dear Albert ! — Save me ! — Save me !" I was myself almost distracted at his raving; not doubting but his senses were disturbed by what he had seen, and I conducted him with the utmost difficulty back to my chamber: where 1 forced him to drink one of the cordials the physi- cian had prescribed to me, and then laying him upon the bed, I sat by him, thinking over the ma- ny unaccountable incidents which had occurred to us both within so very few months. It appeared to me like a dream. " Who else amongst mankind," thought I, " are involved in so singular an adventure? — In a business so com- plicated, so mysterious, and so dreadful, that I am at times tempted to doubt my own existence; or to believe all the dreams of idleness and roman- tic superstition. Undoubtedly murder is the most attrocious of- fence man can commit against man ; for which nei- ther he, nor all united society can make rctrilni- tion to the injured. It ia treason against tlie or- . ■ THREE SPANIARDS. aiO der and harmony of nature. Without the inter- vention of supernatural witness, no crime has been discovered by ways so unforeseen and so singular. It was the belief of the ancients, that the wan- dering spirits of persons slain by violence, wheth- er private or in battle, roamed round the earth un- til their ashes were buried; and that belief has descended, and remains to this day amongst the lower classes of mankind. And why may it not be sol Are we more wise than the ancients 1 or, are we more daring V CHAPTER VIII. Credulity, the child of Ignorance, Nurtur'd by Idleness, best loves to dwell In rustic shades, or in the gloomy pile. While I sat beside my friend, wrapped in these gloomy musings, the morning dawned across the mountains, light and airy clouds spread over the horizon; here streaked with gold, and there dappled with silver. In the east, the etherial blue of the heavens enlivened the landscape, and the dark mountains of Morena seemed for once, to smile. I arose from watching over my friend, who had fallen into a gentle slumber, and, opening the case- ment, inhaled the fresh air of the morning, which revived my spirits, and seemed to breathe upon me in new life. The beauty of the garden beneath me, gay with a profi>sion of variegated flowers, invited me to partake of its sweets, before the blazing sun should nave exhaled them, or withered the clear green of the foliage. No p«reoa was yet viiible in this large pile of 116 THREE SPANIARDS. building, and fastening the sliding picture with a knife, I stole softly along the galleries, and de- scended towards the garden. The door ol a little room on the ground floor stood open, and some per- son within sighed heavily. " Who," thought I, " can have occasion to in- dulge this early grief 1 Have those in humble sta- tions troubles like us to prey upon them, and blight their little felicities 1 Very possible tliiri is some love-stricken maiden indulging tlie reveries of fu- ture prospects, and sighing forth the name of some fortunate youth." These passing reflections occasioned my return after going by a few paces, and curiosity prompt- ed me to enter. I was greatly surprised to see Virginia already up and sitting alone, so lost in the subject of her reflections, that I made several steps before she turned her eyes to see me. She started, blushing at my intrusion, and, in her confusion, was at a loss to speak. " My dear cousin,'"' said 1, fiultering, foi I had caught her diflidence; how fortunate is this ! it ia a chance beyond my hojies. This day, Virginia, will most probably part us many leagues, and when shall I see you again l" " That i do not know," replied she, turning her eyes towards the ground." " But why should you ever wish to see me more*?" *' Can you ask me so cold, so cruel a question!" said I, taking her hand. " Can you be ignorant, that while you administered to my illness, you in- ipired a pain that is incurable, but by yourself. Tell me, then, dearest Virginia, whether I may hope you can return ray affection 1" She blushed, hesitated, half raised her eyes beaming with meaning, then answered with the prettiest confusion in the world — *' I know not. Marquis, whether discretion justifies me — I am ignoiant of the ways of the world, and have omy to speak with the sijicerity of a country maid. 1 THREE SPANIARDS. 117 have heard, that, in polished circles, they tiever mean what they say." " But I, Virginia, I have been little used to those circles ; tlie camp has been my school, and the thunder of war my rattle. We have no time, in camps, to study the art of trilling with the af- fections of file fair ; and, believe me, lady, you yourself cannot speak with less disguise. Si^enk, then, Virginia ; let me listen with delight to the accents of peace." I endeavored to soothe her embarrassment. I pressed her to declare that she was not indiffer- ent; and an affirmative, which died nway upon her trembling lips, elevated my feelings to rap- ture. After allowing a few short minutes to these en- dearing confessions, which constitute so much oi tlie pleasure of genuine love, and evaporate in de- tail, I remembered with regret tlie necessity there was for my sudden departure from the castle, and adverting to the return of Don Padilla, " is it not surprising," said I, "that he should treat with such hauiieur persons who have some claims to civilityl Can you guess any motive, Virginia for this strange disposition! is it a mnlady of the mind or arises it from external causes."' " I," replied s-he, " cannot give any reason for it. There was a time, T am told, when he was all vivacity, too much so, indeed; but that was before he went to Peru. His good fortune made him more exalted in his carriage : but from the death of my mother (which happened before I can re- member) arose that severity of manners, which glooms over his own enjoyments. He is always, 1 think, worse after his visits to Grenada ; and my sister and I have generally to seclude ourselves from his presence for some days, till his temper becomes more settled." " And does no suspicion ever cross your mindr' ** Holy Virgin ! what suspicion should 1" ** Nay, I know not ; but surely there must De 118 THREE SPANIARDS. some secret, some unusual cause for this behsTiouF. Who, or what does he visit at Grenada 1 Have you relations there 1" *• You ask very strange questions," said Vir- ginia. *« Because," replied I, " 1 have strange suspi- cions. Your mother died suddedly — Do not start, Virginia, but hear me. Her waiting-maid Teresa, has never been heard of since tlie night of the fu- neral—" Here I suddenly remembered the images of that horrible chamber, and of what my eyes had wit- nessed, and I started up involuntarily. A moment was sufficient for recollection ; I gat down and continued. " The Lady Zidana, what became of berl How, or when did she diel" " Did you never hearl" said Virginia, turning very pale, perhaps, at the disorder of my features. ** I remember old Gonzalez told us one day she was drowned in a boat upon the river Darro, by the boatman being in liquor. But what has all of this to do with your sudden departure T'' " Would to heaven," cried I, " that it had not to do! Ah! Virginia, I fear--" " Fear whatl" eaid she, trembling. "You ter- rify me with apprehension; what is it you fearl" " I fear that all is not right. Why is the eas- tern wing of the castle never visited 1" •• O," said she, smiling, " if that is the reason of your suspicions, I can easily do them away. That 5ide of the castle is haunied. Have you not no- ticed that large painting of the black and the white knightsi Did you understand itl" " Yes," replied I, " I did understand it ; it ha* a very important meaning. Are you then ac- quainted with the secret!" •' I know no particular secret in it," returned she. ** It is well known that wing of the castle is haunted by these knights. They were , two bro- ihe:?, who, in former times, fell in love with th« TliUEE SPANIARDS. 119 lady of the castle, who was their only sister. She ii\cd r.lone with them after the death of their pta- tiits; her name was Seraphino, and she was re- nowned as the greatest beauty in the provinces. Every knight wlio sought her hand, was obliged to tilt with one or other of the brothers, who con- stantly remained victorious; and their uncourteous behaviour drove all visitants from the castle. " The brotliers having no strange knights to dis- pute with, became jealous of each other, both en- deavoring to influence Seraphino with their crim- inal passion ; and, being of fiery spirits, they agreed to bring their pretensions to issue by sin- gle combat. They mounted their horses in the court yard, obliging their sister to witness this unnatural dispute. The white knight was wounded; but he unhorsed the black one. Both were enrag- ed to a pilch of frenzy ; and dragging their sister into the great gothic hall in the eastern wing, they , weie proceeding to finish the combat by the sword. Serapliino endeavored to part them, but in vain. They fought with (he fury of lions; they were not content, till tliey had received so many wounds, that they fell upon tlie floor in tlie agonies of death. Seraphino was overwhelmed with grief and des- pair at the sight; and, stabbing herself with a poniard, fell, and died upon the bodies of her bro- thers. ** Ever since that time the east wing has been haunted. The noise of the knights fighting is heard at particular times : and upon the same night on which the event first took place, the spir- its of the knights and the lady act over the same tragedy : the marks of which are visible at tliis day, the form of their bodies where they fell, be- ing printed on the floor in blood. " This is the most tragical of tragedies, Vir- ginia," s:iid I. " Who gave you all tliis wonder- ful infirmationl Have you seen or heard any part of it yourselfV •' I have certainly heard very strange noises/' 130 THREE SrAXlARng. she replied. *« I have heard groans, at times, which sunk my heart within me. But why should you doubt the truth of this story." "Because, my dear cousin," said I, "there &re many circumstances very improbable in it. It is not more llian twenty years since that side of the building wag desjyted. Your mother, Eniira, resided there, and if it had been subject to tliese martial visitants, 1 fancy the would soon have changed her situation." Virginia had attended these objections with Impatience. " Nothing is more ea^y answered," said she, with an air of stiperioi* argument. My father, when he came 1o live at this place, on his return from Peru, found the castle shut up : and, treating the whole story as a jest, he had tliat very suit of rooms fitted up for his own residence, the better to inspire the servants with courage. He was. however, never very content in his situation: and the servants have told me, they were certain, from his change of disposition, he had seen the un- natural brothers in their nocturnal rencounter. " He still persisted in living there, when my mother died. Who knows if slie .vas not fright- ened to deathl I'm sure the sight of three dead people cutting each other in pieces would kill me. When I firsi saw you wounded in the w^ood, and tlie dead robber beside you, I thought of the two knigiits." " Nothing could be more natural," replied I. ** But 'tis very strange none of the servants should ever meet these Cavaliers : and how shoidd ycur father suddenly abaudon that side of the castled If be could live in harmony w ith them three or four years, how came they to fall out at length!" " You hmgh. Marquis, but I assure you it is a very serious atTair. On the wedding night of my father with Lady Zidana, he had this hall cleared and illiiminated in the most splendid manner. All the guests were seated, and the revelry begun, wh&n the knight iu black, wrapped in a long THREE SPAMARDd. 121 cloak, tlie color of his arn>or, entered the hall. The clock stiuck one — and n\l the frighted gueeta started up in teiTor> flying away in the greatest conlusiun. When all the visitors had made their «scape different ways, and none but Lady Zidana, fainting on the floor, and Don Padilla remained, he took courage to inquire the reason of this unex- pected visit; inviting the ghost, at the same time, to sit down to the least. " The black knight frowned at this familiar in- Titation: and, opening his long cloak, shewing his armor broken, and his bo tale can l)e too improbable for igno- rant auditors. I had been warned by Gonzalez of the ridiculous reports circulated by the servants, whicli he had not taken the trouble to contradict: and I was grieved to see that Virginia had paid them so much attention. Nothing, indeed, could be more natural in their secluded situation, where a tale of the marvellous had charms unknown in the busy scenes of life: and where superstitioa held its sway without contiol. 122 THREE SPAMARDS. " Virginia," said I, at the conclusion of her story, *' I have some reaisons to wifsh you Jiot to place too much confidence in the strange rej)orts of domestics. They are generally unacquainted with facts; and from vague information, or half- heard sentences, conjure up a story that will set reason at defiance. Let us now, if you please, leave the knights to their tilting in the hall, for matters of infinitely more importance. Will it be possible that I should correspond with you, send you ray plans, my adventures, and actions I Do you know of no way by which we may exchange our ideas and sentiments'?" " No," replied she, " you would not wish me to enter into any clandestine correspondence. My honor would suffer in my own eyes; and you would esteem me less." " Not so my angel," cried I; there are cases and situations in which it is allowable to set aside those strong claims of parental duty. When, for instance, a father would control the establishment of his daughter, merely from whim, pleasure, or convenience — wheu he has not one rational argu- ment to oppose — when he does not condescend to inquire ioto the merits and claims of the candi- date. Nothing can be more unjust and unreason- able." "1 have listened to you with regret," answered she, " because I would not willingly alter my opinion of you. But what shall I think, if you thus early wish to lead me into opposition! Indeed I cannot, will not. It is time enough for me to do tlius, when he shall have proceeded to these acts of tyranny you enumerate." " Must i then depart, my Virginia," said I , " must I quit you without a certain prospect of hope! will you sacrifice all my happiness to the will of your fatherl" " How you talk. Marquis," said she, with an air of vexation: *' have I said any of this! or is tlte situation we at this time stand in, such as you THREE SPANIARDS. Wo Bre picturing "? My father, I ackiiowltMlge, is melancholy to extreme ; but time, and your mer- it " Here she paused suddenly, recollecting that she was, perhaps, saying more than her situation per- mitted; and, blughrng remained silent. I could not but admire the sensibility of her soul, and the rectitude of her mind, unpolished by the sophisms of the world : and though 1 should have rejoiced at some means of corresponding, she yet rose in my esteem by the refusal. I e«deavored to convince her of the ardor of my passion, by saying all that my situation could suggest. 1 refrained wounding her with the terri- ble subject of our suspicions. On that point 1 found my heart torn by the most conflicting pas- sions. I knew that Fernando was resolved upon justice ; but it now became impossible I should follow his designs. The world, on cool judgment would think me a monster : and calumny would not fail to suggest, tliat, to obtain the daughter, I had hunted down the father as an obstacle to my desire. I lost myself in a reverie of maddening reflections, till an observation of Virginia's recal- ed my recollection; and, ashamed of having be- trayed so much absence of mind, I took a tender farewell, exchanging a mutual promise of fidelity and love. I returned to my chamber in a pensive mood, which I indulged till Fernando awoke. His fan- cy was tranquilized, and his senses clear. He inquired il' I had given orders for our depar- tiire ; and he was positively resolved not to remain another ni^ht in the castle. While he adjusted his .dress, I r/ent down to give my servants orders to hasten to Tolosa, there to procure mules for my journey over the moun- tniiis: Fernando being to accompany me the first •iay's stage, his engagements with the army not allowing a longer absence. Fadilla did not arise till late. He then reque»t 124 THREE SPANIARDS. ed our attendance in the breakfast room, where he put on as much condescension as liis temper would allow. He made some slight excuse for his first reception ; and, as a compensation, requested ua to remain with him a week or two longer: profes- sing his desire of some companions to enliven the solitude of his situation. " We go hence in the afternoon," said Fernan- do abruptly. Don Padilla's countenance indicated his disap- pointment; and he stroT e in vain to unbend the frown which accompanied it. I must confess, Avhen I recollected the black design of the invita- tion, I was nearly forgetting that Virginia was his daughter. " It would be to little purpose," said I, with a look which I intended should speak to his soul; " for us to remain longer in the castle, we cannot sleep at night." " Whose is that fault V said he, " the inno- cent can sleep !" " And can you sleep 1" replied I. He was evidently rising into anger, yet fearing to betray himself; and condemning my own fully, I endeavored to turn off a discussion equally im- prudent and dangerous. I pretended to have re- ceived dispatches, by way of Tolosa, which de- clared my presence in Madrid could no longer be dispensed with : and that knowing our company would be willingly spared, I had not an hour be- fore sent my servant for mules. " Do you go immediately to Madrid]" said Pa- dilla; " or do you return to Tolosa V 1 replied, that I should proceed immediately over the mountains and that my friend would at- tend me one day's journey. He made some slight observations on the danger of these mountains, from the banditti which infest- ed them. •' But 1 suppose," said he, " you are \ve\l armed, and your servants are not without courage r' ^THREE SPANIARDS. 126 *' As to that," answered I, " I have very little fear. These banditti are only the deserters of rebels; they are cruel, but they are cowards: and though I have only one servant, armed with a sa- bre and arquabuz—wlth a sword and pistols for myself, I am not apprehensive of danger. Raolo has stood by me in many a desperate encounter; and will not turn his buck to any man in the pass- e» and defiles of Sierra Morena." " May be so," said Don Padilla dryly. " I am glad you have so trusty a companion. There have i)een people murdered in these recesses before this time, Marquis; I only speak to caution you." " Aye, aye," said Fernando, " people have been murdered in other places besides the moun- tains ofSieria Morena — Have they not Marquis?" Don Padilla evidently started and looked round; but to cover either his anger or sudden agitation, he replied with a laugh — " your friend, Mari|uis, has a mind to be witty upon you for yt-.ur exuluit in the wood." " Do you call that murder, Senorl" cried Fer- cando. I slvjuld have thought you could hare told the difterence." " And why I ] ' cried Padilla, trembling with rising fury, " Can nobody but me tell the differ- ence '." " Yes," replied Fernando, " every body but you." " Come, come," said I coolly," this is the most idle discourse imaginable; and shows the absurd tarn conversation -will sometimes take. I hope, Don Padilla, we shall be permitted to bid adieu to the ladies 1" " I doubt it," returned he, with his wonted haughtiness. " The ladies are employed.'* " But surely, they can forego that employ for a few moments, to take leave of their cousins. Es- pecially when we may never meet again." " That observation is just," said Padilla r *' you may never meet agjiin." ■J ■ m 12a THREE SPANIARDS. " Ai such may, indeed, be the case," said I, gravely, ** you will not surely deny me the satis- faction of returning my thanks to my cousins for the kindness 1 have received in particular." *' I will deliver them myself," replied he. ** There is no occasion for these formalities, they only make parting more unpleasant. — I detest leave taking." " Except when it quits you of troublesome guests," said Fernando: " and then, Senor, it is the pleasantest action in life." " I confess then," replied Padilla, peevishly, '* I shall this day experience a very great pleas- ure." *' You are fairly beaten, my friend," said I ; •* you must not pretend to catch his Excellenza. But now let us be serious. If you ever come to Madrid, Don Padilla, you will find at my palace a cordial reception: and I hope it will not be long before I have the pleasure of receiving you there, that I may return in part the obligation." *' Nothing is certain," answered he, gloomily. " Life hangs upon uneven threads. Marquis. You are a young man ; but many a man dies about your age — especially if he is in the army." I observed, that while he made this superfluous remark, his eyes moved from one to the other, with a malignity and sneer upon his countenance that rekindled all my suspicions, and flushed my face with resentment. I could not forbear, in my own mind, marking him for a villain; and I rejoiced that he was fortunately and timely frustrated in his plans, by the discovery we had made. After this long and unpleasant conversation we ■eparated. I endeavored without success, to pro- cure admission to the ladies: and it was with dif- ficulty I found an opportunity of speaking six words to Gonzalez, to assure liim of my protec- tion; and to exact his promise, that be would watch over my interest, and in case of any partic- ular incident arising that might affect the happi- THREE SPANIARDS. 127 ness of either of the ladies, tliat he would dispatch a courier to me, at any expense. I passed the time till noon in unpleasant reflec- tion; Fernando relating to roe the supernatural incidents of the preceding night. He having fol- lowed (as I suspected) the phantom, on its beck- oning him as it passed. " it was very unwillingly that I entered the chapel," said he; " and nothing but a sense of my own promise to obey, could have induced me to dciicend into that horrible tomb. The spectre mo- ved amidst the piles of coffin?, and seemed to in- tend leading me into the labyrinth of vaults, which branched under the castle. When turning my eye a little towards the left, I perceived a light rise out of the earth, and a female dressed in a strange habit, gradually rose as from an opening grave." " A female," cried I, interrupting him, " that is most strange ! Who, or what can she hel For •what purpose is she there 1 — Does she dwell in tliose dungeons!" " I know not," replied Fernando ; " such she appeared to my eyes; and hei disordered counte- nance and dress reminded me of the furies. She gave a loud scream at my appearance. A scream which rung through those dreary vaults, and dis- mayed my inmost soul. She sunk again into the grave, arui left me in total darkness: — tlie spirit of Count Ferendez having continued its way in si- lence. " I had lost my taper in the emotion of my mind; and was so much overcome with the damp air, and the shock my spirits had received that 1 sunk up- on tlie ground." - Our comments upon this relation were extreme- ly unpleasant. In the midst of diem we were in- terrupted by the return of my servant with the moles, and tlir«e guides, who were to accompany U0. Don PadiUa attended upon us himself, proba- bly to prevent the jwsaibility of our speaking to 128 THllEt SPAMARDS. his daughters. He reiunrked the number of lay guides, and seemed curious to know how we were ail equipped. I looked up in vain to the windows of tli© build- ing, for a last glance from my Virginia, but slie was not visible, and> after receiving the sarcastic wishes of Don Padilla for om* prospei ity and safe- ty, we set out from the castle of Moutillo, whce 10 many eventful incidents had happened, that our lives actions, and pursuits, might be dated from the events that carried us hither. CHAPTER IX. The winds are up, the lofty elraen swangs. Again the lightning and the thunder pours And tlie full clouds are braste attenes in stoDCii showers. ChcUtcrton. Our way lay through the, wood, whose deep boughs soon hid us fiom the sight of the castle. Our curiosity induced us to dismount, and giving the guides charge to wait for us at the bend of the road, we took the path alung the bank of the river. We examined every gloomy hollow in aturtory manner; lx;ing more particuUu- when we arrived at the spot where tlie s^iirit of Count Ferendez had first conducted m.-. It was a phice of peculiar secrecy ; being con- cealed and overhung with interwoven coik trees, which bent their branches to the river, that ra«> beneath the hanging brow, deep and without ap- parent current. Our time did not admit much lo cariosity, and we proceeded onwards to the place where Lopez had been buried. Fernando, who had attended on that occagion, 'Hrc«ived at once that the earth I THREE SPANIARDS. 129 been removed ; and I remembered the mcident which had alarmed me, and which I then judged rightly, had been Jacques carrying away the body of his liiend, vy destroy the prooCs it might at any time have furniehed. We louud our mules in waiting at an opening of the forest, and we entered upon a country which every league became more barren. We advanced up the mountains, leaving behind us the silver 6U-eam of the Guadalquiver, which the eye might trace to an infinite distance ; now wandering amoEgst sun-browned fields where not a blade of grass appeared: then gliding amongst pleasant val- lies, where verdure spread in all the freshness of beauty, and smiling villages intermingled with plantations of olives. The majestic castlG of Montillo was no longer visible, but as a black spot in the forest; and^^we soon lost sight of it wholly. Our guides and my servant Raolo hung behind, that we might converse with freedom; and we settled on a pUn of future correspondence. The country became so wild and dreary, that I would have persuaded Fernando to return ; he having no one to attend him but his own servant: a guard by no means sufficient to the dangers of ilic road. At nightfall we reached a few scattered huts, V. i-ere u was difficult to find entertainment. The iiihabitaiits consisted chiefly of gipsies and ihep- l>e:(!s, who attend the flocks on the mountains, and Ivv.d a life of rude and pastoral employ. V\hM little tiiey possessed they were willing to shisre ; and our mules and ourselves wei'e accom- liiudated in one large room, not very remarkable for sweetness. 'Tis well for us soldiers tliat we are not very difficult to please; or hi travelling c\ c should often be unpleasantly situated, m placea \v here money will scarcely fwocure tho neceesarioa "of life. VOL. I. 9 130 THREE SPA.NIARDS. We arose very eaily in the morning, that we might have leisure to rest at noon, the heat of the preceding day having so incommoded me, that I found some pain in my wounded arm. I took, leave of Fernando with many melancholy reflections ; which so dejected my spirits, that i was asliamed of my own feelings. ' 1 fancied that we should never meet again ; and pulling my hat over ray eyes, I gave my mules the reins, riding slowly forward, absorbed in thought. The beauty of the moiniug bad few cliarms for ray prejudiced eye, which was perpetually bring- ing before me the g;\ideji of the castle, with Vir- ginia and Almiia: and when I looked for some particular object, I felt disappointed at beholding nothing round me, but rising cliffs and barren mountains, spreading and extending to the clouds in chaotic confusion ; with here and there a stum- py tree, or gloomy cork, to mark the scenery. How different mis from the fertile regions of Grenada, where a new Paradise seemed breathing into life. There every plant, every fruit, and ev- ery ilower that could charm the senses, please the taate, or gratify the eye, bloomed with the profu- sion of prolific nature. Cooling streams wander- ed amidst the flowery meadows; the husband- man's song mingled with the chanting of birds; and animated creation enjoyed its being. But how sad was the reverse of the prospect be- fore me ! Mountains piled upon mountains ; roads, the terror of the traveller from the accumulated dangers of impending clift's and yawning gulfs, witii all the terrors of cruel banditti. The face wf nature arid and steriie : no fruits, no flowers, Ko plants appeared, except a few stumpy thorns, aickly olives, and mountain thyme. f>io cooling itieaius, margined with violets, gladdened the sen- ^e3; but a silent and dreary prospect filled the soul with images of the horril^le and the sublime. At noon we sat down beneatli tiie slielter of some Lrukeu rocks, which were scattered iu a confused THREE SPANIARDS. 131 heap, characteristic of the wilderness around us. It was a situation picturesque in extreme : and wanted only a company of banditti dividing their spoil, or waiting to tali upon the traveller, in place of muleteers eating garlic and cheese, to be- come worthy the pencil of a master. After our repast, we emptied two bottles of Malaga wine; wliich elevated tlie spirits of my companions so much, that I wished, in my own mind, for that content and joy, written upon tJie broad grin of their countenances. Every thing to them was a subject of jest: — the black mountains, the sterile summits of the spire-like cliffs, received ridiculous names, as fancy or wit drew a compar- ison. The clear air seemed to expand the spiriLi. One of them sang a little ballad 1 had before seen in Murcia, while my servant, and the others danc- ed, and, joining in tlie chorus, made tlie hanging rocks resound. Ye maidens fair of feature. Than dews of morning sweeter. Attend my song, Nor think it long. That pinion's time flies fleeter. While on your cheeks reposes. The bloom of fragrant roses. Your dimpling smiles. All hearts beguiles. And tender love discloses. Then sing witli me, ye happy maids. Cooling fountains, pleasing shades; Where love and youdi, forever gay, Sport the fleeting hours away. Come here, ye maidens witty,' Forsake the town and city ; 132 THREE SPANIARDS. A rustic life. Devoid of strife. Becomes the young and pretty. Here all is mirth and pleasure. Health is the peasant's treasure ; The nymphs invite, And sweet delight. The happy moment's measure. Then sing with me, ye happy maids. Cooling tbuntains, pleasing shades; Where love and youth for ever gay. Sport the fleeting hours away. Notwithstanding my present disposition to bad* ness, I could not but be entertained with the gaie- ty of the little group ; who brought back, to their fancy the pleasures of their native fields, and for- got the latigue of their journey in the rernem- brance of past felicity. What a contrast did their vivacity form against tlie joyless scene around us. It exhibited that trait of the human character, which can feel plea- sure in the midst of danger; and happiness in re- gions of unproductive barrenness. Having wearied themselves with singing and dancing, they laid down on the hard rocks to en- joy the refreshinent of sleep ; while uiy fancy dwelt upon Virginia, and complicated plans of fu- lurity. " Undoubtedly," thought I, "the lower ranks of life are not half so much exposed to vexations as those of greater refinement. What lofty cares interrupt tlie slumbers of these muleteers, on the tops of the mountains of Morenal while I, to whom they look up with envy, feel myself infinitely more unhappy. Whence arises tliis distinction! Are our joys and sorrows nearly poised 1 or, does i\ cuUiviitcd mind bring forth imaginary eyilsl'* In rejections like these I passeji the time till the iiour arrived for our journeying onwarda. The euidcb and Raolo were quickly ready, and W0 THREE SPANIARDS. 133 bade adieu, with some regret, to our rude shelter — the sun yet blazing witli splendor. We wound amongst the rugged roads of the mounlnins: now climbing by a narrow path, now proceeding down a dangerous steep ; then edging the brink of a precipice, where the smallest slip Avould have been fatal ; or traversing, with cau- tion the narrow and gloomy defile, where every hollow might conceal a band of ruffians, and fancy might almost see them start upon the trembling traveller. Towards evening the wind fresher.ed, blowing cold over the tops of the mountains, wliose bare sides afforded no foliage to shelter off the blast. Hea\y clouds rose over the horizon, adding tc the darkness and dreariness of coming night. I in- quired how far we had to go before we arrived at the next innl *' No less than four leagues," replied one of the muleteers; " and these clouds drive on so heavily, that I am afraid, Senor, we shall not reacii there by nightfall.-' •' And do you know no nearer shelter, no goat- herds' hovels, where we could find a night's lodg- ing!" said I. "No, your Excellenza," replied he. "This part of the mountain is so barren, that a kidling of a year's growth could not browse upon it. We have nothing to do, but put forward, and trust to St. Michael." " That is an excellent sentiment," said I. "If we always hope for the best, and defy the worst, we shall overcome many a difficulty." " You are perfectly right, Senor," replied Ra- olo. ''The man who feels every danger which may happen, is never ready when they do. A Soldier, your Excellenza, should brave every wea- ther, and every difficulty. He should be above fortune, if he would not hare fortune use him ill." " I approve your courage, Raolo; but suppose 1S4 THREE SPANIARDS. Eow we should be attacked by souie troops of rob- bers'?" ** O, for the love of Chri>it!" cried one of the nuleteers, *' dorit suppose any such thuigs, your Excelleaza ; what would become of us '{ I never had any relish for fighting in my life; and just now I think less than ever." " There are very strange sto»4es, it must Ije ovv:ned," said another, " I have sometimes listen- ed till my hair bristled Uf an end. There, Senor, there is a cross stuck upon the edge of that rock, some traveller has been murdered there." Each of the muleteers crossed themselves, re- peating their Ave Maria. ** Do you know the story V inquired I, willing to amuse the time with conversation : for I felt the gloom that was creeping around us affect my spir- its, which had never 'regained tlieir tone, since my adventure in the forest." '* It has been there," said Pedro, "ever since I can first rememljer. In former times, it used to be almost impossible to travel over the mountains and, in some places, the crosses stand so thick, you would think they were planted to grow there." " You are very familiar with sacred things," said his companion, " for my part my blood runs cold when I see them ; especially since I heard the story which old Jacintha told me one night at To- losa." " What story was thntl" said Jerome. "I nev- er heard it and 1 have heard many strange things." ** If his Excellenza will give me leave," said the muleteer, " I wiir.tell you now — It is not very long and you will find it very entertaining" *' How can that be, honest friend'?" said I. " It may very well be," replied he, bowing; but it begins to rain, and vre shall be soon drencn- ed to the skin." I enquired if they knew of no shelter, such as we found at noon. ** No," replied P«dro, '* would not for the uni- THREE SPAMARL;;. 1S5 Terse descend into those gleijs; lliey look hy ibi* light, like so many uutiithoiuablc pits. I should tliink I was going down into the bottomless gulph." " You make a strange comparison," said I. ** If you all prefer a \vet skhi to braving the dnn- gers of these unknown cavities, put on; asid let us have the story Martin was going to entertain us with."' The evening was so dark, that we began to lose the distinct view of immediate objects ; and surely no prospect could be so totally cheerless. The rain spread a mist about us, and rendered the roads dangerous; while we feared to move from a direct line, in search of shelter, lest we should plunge down some precipice, or wholly lose the road. The muleteers could not dissemble their fears; and I had to urge Martin, several times, for his story, well knowing that talking ban- ishes fear. After several loud hems, Martin be- gan — his companions riding close, that they might attend his tale. " A traveller who was mounted on a sorry ass, had to jouruey over the mountains alone without a guide, for he waa very poor. He rode several days, till he came near the middle of the mountain. It was about nightfall that he arrived at the foot of a prodigious large cross, fixed up where a bar- barous murder had formerly been committed. " Beside the cross stood a mule, ready saddled and bridled, the bridle fixed to the cross; but as he drew near, he saw no owner for the mule, at which he very much wondered. He stopped his ass to look round, but could see nobody. * This is wonderful strange !' said he to himself; ' this mule could not have been placed here without hands; and why, above all places in tlie world, place it on a cress?' I should have told you, 'hat his surpiise at tight of the mule, made him f !! grt to repeat Ave M; ria; a thing never to b« tnii'.;;-.; u:i lii'jic >.:'j-. ■ i.ji.s bv a -iood Cliiistian. 136 THREE SPANIARDS. ** Well, there be stood considering what the mule should do in such a place without a master. * 'Tis a thousand pities,' thought he, ' so fine an animal should be so exposed to the weather. He will be starved' — some brute of a raaa will come by, and take him away. Why then may "not I exchange him for my worn out ass, who is more used to hardship than this sleek looking beast.' ** Having settled this point of humanity with his conscience, he dismounted, and taking off the bridle, hung that of his ass' in the place. He then mounted, overjoyed at the exchange, and admir- ing the adventure ; but he no sooner touched the back of the mule, than away he galloped, scouring along tile road, as if he would break the neck of his rider. *' The traveller endeavored in vain to check him by the bridle; he rode th^ more furiously, leaping prodigious chasms, and tearing down the most frightful precipices. The poor fellow would not have given a pin for his neck ; and his bones were shaken in his skin like a sack of cu- cumbers. — But now we come to the most tragical part of the story." *' Well said Raolo, with a laugh, " let us have it by all means; what became of the travel- ler-?" " You shall hear," replied Martin. "The mule continued to drive on at >a prodigious pace till he was all in a violent foam, passing along the nar- rowest roads within an inch of the edge; some- time^ tearing up hill, and then flying down, till the traveller was almost dead with fatigue and fright." '• Prithee, get him a little faster to the end of his journey," said I. " Please your Excellenza," replied Martin, *• he went as fast a? he could ; and it's impossible to finisli the story before he ends his career. " Well, he roue onwards, without being stopped or interrupted by any thing on the way ; nor did THREE SPANIARDS. 137 he meet with any living creature in his long course. He pulled hard at the reins to check the mule, but he continued still to ride on as he did at first: and what was more strange, his swiftness seemed evec to increase." " O, intolerable!" exclaimed I. " If he gal- loped as fast as thy tongue, and to as little pur- pose, I fancy he never reached the end of his jour- ney." '* Yes, Senor," continued Martin, in a serious tone, " he galloped at a terrible rate, till he, all on a sudden, stood still, in a narrow, savage-look- ing hollow, where some thorns formed a cover over head, and concealed, even the twinkling of a star. The traveller did not at all like the looks of this spot. He began to spur and kick the beast to make him go on, bui it was all in vain — he stood stock still. He beat him over the head with his whip, but the mule only hung his ears; he be- gan to coax him, but he only wagged his tail and would not stir one step." *' I am afraid," said I, " we are prettj' much in the same situation: tell us, however, how long he Ftood in that position." " I can't say exactly how long, Senor, but there he stood; nor would all the traveller could devise make him stir one step. He dfsmounted and tugged at the bridle: the mule put his fore feet to the ground, and stood firm. He went be- hind and endeavored to shove him forward; but he might as well have attempted to push down one of the mountains. He began to think his feet might be fixed in some trap, and he lifted them out one by one, but the mule would not stir." " And there your tale remains," said I, " like tlie traveller's mule," " No, no," replied he, "I am not at the end of it yet. " The traveller in amazement mounted a^aiu, and the mule began to neigh so loud, that rJl the clifts re-echoed the sound, and he thought himself surrounded bv a thousand others. The 138 THREE SPANIARDS. ground on whicli he stood began gradualijr to "BraTo! bravo! honest Martin," cried I, ** this is a promising story truly. — So, as the mule would not go, the ground was obliged to un- dertake the journey !" " You are pleased to be merry, Senor; but I can assure you, this is no joke. The ground, as I said, began to move, and to sink downwards, till the traveller, in affright, found himself up to the stirrup. In a moment after, it was up to his breast: and, before he could raise his hands to cross himself, he found himself in a cavern, where three fierce robbers, with whiskers from ear to ear, and rapiers that trailed upon the ground seiz- ed him, at once, by the collar. " Ah! dog of a wretch !" cried they, in a voice of thunder, *' you would have stolen the m*ule, ai d the mule has stolen you. You will be a dead man in a minute, but first tell us what you have got about you." " For the sake of St. Dominique,'* said the tra- veller, " spare my life. You will get nothing by killing me, gentlemen — I have not a raaravidie about me — All my wealth was upon the back of my poor ass, doubloons and dollars. — I had not the t!me to remove them on to the back of tjiat devil of a beast, before he rode away with me. — If you will only give me time, I will go and fetch it." •' No, no," replied the thieves, " we are not so easily done as that comes to, we will fetch it our- selves: in the mean time we shall keep you saft enouph.' With that they dragged the poor trenn- bling vretch into a large chambe r „f the cave, where he felt nothing beneath his feet but skulli and dry bones of travellers who had been trepan- ned in the same way, and his heart sunk within him. " When he supposed the thieves at a distance, he began to think how useless it was for him t« THREE SPANIARDS. 139 spend bis time studying over death's heads when he was nu hermit ; and, taking up a strong thigh bone, he made use of it to lores the door of his dungeon. " An excellent repast of meat and wine stood upon a table; and being willing to have another meal before he should be starved to death, he fell to. The wine made him merry ; and, seeing a dress belonging to one of the robbers, he stripped off his own, being naturally fond of exchanges. " He admired the fierceness of his figure, armed with pistols and a long Toledo, and began to lose all apprehensions of the thieves. He considered, :jowever, that it might be well to leave them to themselves when they should return ; and, as doubtless the .mule, who so well knew the way in, must know the way out, he loaded him with some bags of hard coin, that the weight might cool his courage, and mounting him, began to drub him. " Tlae mule, no doubt, thinking by the dress of his rider, that he had one of his masters to deal \ilh, immediately struck into a long and dark passage, where the traveller was obliged to lay upon his breast along the animal's neck, to pre- vent his own being broken. A glimpse of light, at last appeared, and he found himself in a deep hollow, surrounded by rocks, from which the mule had a difficulty to extricate himself," " I would not run so many dangers for all the money he got by it," said Pedro. " What became of the traveller's ass. Martini" said Raolo. " Aye, truly, I had forgot, my honest cousin. There is a very long story goes about that same ass ; he had a very droll name, and that was Ra- olo." ' We all laughed at the fellow's humor, which had prevented our thinking too much of our sitwa-* tion, being completely drenched with the raia. It continued to pour down, while the wind j)elted 140 THREE SPANIARI>S. us unmercifully, and almost took the mules from their feet. We had still a considerable distance to ride bfi- fore we came to the inn ; and then ihe cheerless pro^pect presented of no accommodation. A gen- eral rule all over Spain. "This is bitter weather indeed," said Pedro; *•' the poor beasts will be jaded to death, and what a fine day we had of it. Diablo ! if I don't think the inn has run away like the traveller's mule." After this observation, we dropt into a profound silence, till, fear getting the better of Pedro, ho first began to whistle, and then to sing with all his strength, as if to out-noise the storm, and deafen himself to its roaring. Martin and Jerome fre- the town alone ; and when my servant had charg- . jsd the pistols, the horse was brought purposely to dr^w him out, in which time the servant entered and unloaded the pistols, telling hira (the Post- THREE SPANTARt>S. 151 boy) they were to arrest the gentleman on tlie roari by an order from the King, and look this cautioH to prevent bloodshed by our resit^tance; thai tliey were to ride |?asi us upon the road, and if all rein;\ined in tlie same slate he was to cry Heral and smack his wiiip twice in the air as they rode by; but if we had discovered tlie change put upon us, he was to cry who goes there ? but not to interpose in case of attack. And lastly, that about a league further they we>e to wait for XK in the dell, where the narrowness of the road ^•ould not admit my servant on the side of the chrise, by which means his assistance would be £ut ofi". " And this, your Highness," continued ie, " is all I know, if these words were the last I was to speak in this world, and may all the mar- tyrs curse me if I know any more," 1 silenced his clamorous cries for mercy by or- dering him to rise, " Your treachery,'' said I, " does not merit pardon ; but I will grant your life on condition you follow my orders. What sort of a person was he you call the masterl" " A dark, stern looking man, exactly like an inquisitor, and, indeed, I did think lie belonged to the holy oliice." " Was he not tall, his eye-browa bent, and meeting together^" A reply in the affirmative confirmed my suspi- cion on Don Padilla. I next inquired the figure of his servant. " He was a terrible looking man," said he, •' witli a malicious eye, so penetrating, that I waa afraid when he looked at me," This thought I, must be Jacques. I have ner- er seen him but in deceiving lights, and this is ray picture of him, I trembled for the safety of Fer- nando, when I had this instance of their malignant designs, and knew they must have either me or passed each other on a road where murder and «nir;ige was common at noon-day. I had no time xo »],>a:e t>r roticc'-i'^n ia tht piee^nt moment. I 152 THREE SPANIARDS. stripped off my scarlet mantle, and exchanging with the postillion, obliged him to take my place in the chaise at the same time, solemnly vowing if lie attempted to betray us by any signal, I would, in the first instance, wreak my vengeance upon him. I then mounted myself upon the mule, and con- realing my sabre unaer my dress, I ordered Raolo to keep, as usual, behind, and on the first assault, to charge at once with the sword. Having made this arrangement, we drove for- ward, my heart beating wilh variety of emotions. I remembered the adventure in the church, and I had no longer any doubt but the mysterious stran- ger had been Jacques, who hud followed me at a distance, to that sanctuary, where my own credu- lity contributed to betray me into his power. The drops of blood upon my hand now seemed an omen of my danger, which then I did not interpret aright. My apprehension for the safety of Fer- nando, was extremely painful, and contributed not a little to detach my mind from the immediate dangers that surrounded myself. We rode forward till we arrived at the hollow part of tlie road, above which, on either side, were nigh cliffs, tufted with underwood: a place ex- tremely well chosen for such an expedition. No intimation gave us warning that any person was near, and I continued to drive forward at a rapid rate, urging the poor beasts at the utmost • speed into the hollow, witliout making any show of apprehension. No sound interrupted the si- lence of night, but the noise we oiu-selves made: and, being arrived at the middle of the pass, I be- gan to think our danger over, when a pistol waa fired into the chaise from amongst tlie bushes which overtopped tJie road , I took no notice of this assault, as we could nut aee any individual, and admired the design of this infamous transaction. I gave the mules a laah, when, possibly, angry at the postillion for not THREE SPANIARDS. 153 answering tlieir signal, one of them fired a shot at ine, which hit one of tlie mules, and caused him to plunge and rear in an ungovernable manner. In an instant after, a carbine was fired into the chaise, and a loud cry from the miserable postil- lion made them conclude they had executed their business. I judged from the number of shots that they had spent their first fire; and calling to Raolo, 1 com- manded him to follow me, sword in hand. We clambered up the banks, and made good our en- trance into the hanging thicket, without receiving any injury from two or three pistol shots which were tired at random. When we reached the top of the banks, we found ourselves unopposed ; nor could we, through the darkness of the night, discern the loe, who had not sufficient courage to wait the assault, though they had only the resistance of Raolo to fear, as they must have judged the valor of the supposed postillion a feint. After searching round for some time, that they might not escape us by concealing themselves, we plunged our swords into every bush within fifty paces, and it was matter of conjecture how they could possibly have secured so silent a retreat. Finding oiw researches useless, we returned to tlie road ; but the chaise was gone. This was an unpleasant circumstance to persons in oursilua lion. All my baggage aiwi letters were in it. But fortunately none fi-om Fernando relative to our suspicions, nor any aocumenl that could give Pa- diila light into our intentions, supposing that be should have an opportunity lo examine. The most probable conjecture was that the wounded mule had communicated its fright to bis companion, and run away with the postillion. Raolo's horse stood quietly at about one hun- t^red yards distance, and mounting him together, >Te proceeded at an easy rate. Raolo delighting 164 THREE SPANIARDS. biraseir with tlie courage of the enemy, and tb« military trick we had played upon them. We continued slowly forward, without meeting the smallest trace of the chaise. Towards the dawn of day we arrived at a little farm-house by tlie road-side. We alighted to seek some refresh- ment, and to provide some better conveyance. The instant we stopped at the gate, the owner of the cottage came up to us, and, with visible emo- tion, incjuired if we were the persons who had been robbed on the road. I was surprised at this question, and replied lliat we had been assaulted, but, I believed, not by common robbers, demanding, at the same time his reason for the question. " About two hours since," said he, '* somebody knocked violently at the gate. It was dark, and I was just rising, for we begin our labours be- tnnes. I was coming out at tfie door^ with a lan- tern, to see what was the matter, when two men, strangely muffled up, ordered me to extinguish . the light and follow them, or I should be a dead man in a minute. I could do no more than obey them. A chaise stood on the road, and I saw some- body in It, but tliey did not speak. " Here, said one of the men, " take this parcel and those trunks, and give them to the next traveller, who will own them." *' I knew not what to do in the business, as I feared being called to account, some way or other as having a share in the plunder, and yet I woja- dereti tiiey should be so tree to part with it, uii- lase they had taken out all the valuable articles. Well, iSenors, their repeated threats frightened me, and having laid all the bundles upon the ground, I took up a trunk to carry it into tlie house. When I relumed for anotner, the two cavaliers, who were mounted on horses and the chaise, witli Uie jjerson who did not speak, wer« gone. Two of the bundles they took from the oluiseare stained with blood, and I fiuir aonae po<»r THREE SPANIARDS. 156 gentleman has been murdered by these ruffiaiia; and now that 1 see you, 1 liope it is not your mas- ter who has l)een r(jL)bed. 1 asaure you it was from force 1 admitted tiie goods." 1 had waited without interrupting him. •' 1 be- lieve you, my honeot fellow," said 1, taking off tlie postdliou'b coal; " tliis gjument deceived you. 1 am a nDbieman, who have been traitorous- ly way-laid, and 1 imagine these articles you men- tion are mine; if so, tliey bear tiie name of Deiiia. Can you describe the persons of the men you saw 5" " It was loo daik," replied lie, they were in a tremendous passion, cursing and swearing at somo mistake. 1 heard one of diem say it would be best to riy, and ti.e other muttered something, of which 1 could only make out the word - body." 1 was very well j)leased at this information, and the countryman, whose name, I think, was Tormes, being an open-hearted hospitable man, we sat down to a rural breakfast, to us extremely welcome, after the events of the night. 1 made no doubt, from the blood on the bundles and the words ol the men, that the postillion had received his death from their hands; " and thus it generally is," said I, " though not always in so visible and signal a manner, that the intentions of villains devolve upon themselves. Our destruc- tion this night, appeared inevitable; betrayed by a miscreant to the vengeance of two men, who laugli at crimes if they can perpetrate them with impunity. Confiding in our own arms, when that conndeni;e might have been destruction: no way to escape or defend ourselves appearing; yet their designs are rendered abortive, and their weak and wretched instrument destroyed by themselves." My spirits experienced a considerable tiOw up- on tliii event, the landscape from tiie window ap- peared delightful, and the loved plains of Grena- da seemed again to bloom befjie ine. (iemlc swellings loaued with grain broke the continuity of the level ground, and varied cultivation diversi- 16C THREE SPANIARDS. fied the prospect to the e]re, and painted the fece of nature with variety of tints. It was now the autumn, and the glow of ripen- ing fruitage gladdened the view. Nature's rich- est stores were spread before her children, and there wanted only the thankful heart, and the tran- quil mind, to spread happiness over the scene. After a few hours rest, I dispatched Ilaolo to Toledo to procure a chaise. While he was ab- sent, 1 indulged myself in a reverie of pleasing reflection, which tlie imagery of this fine province increased ; and while I sat wandering over the views before me, the tender recollection of Vir- ginia stole upon me, and the high mountains that divided us, soemed as a barrier to our meeting any more. Nothing could be more inviting to the frenzy of composition which lovers universally feel, than tho glowing country before me, and I have no doubt that love gave birth to the Muses. While I sat ia the window I M'rote these lines, the faults of which you must charge to the folly of love, for, though it is the origin of rhyming, it, by no means inspires the higher pieces of poetry. THE SIGH. Go, gentle Sigh, to ease my breast. And on Virginia's bosom rest; Go, gentle Sigh, my heart now swelling. And in her bosom make thy dwelling. Go Sigh, and bearing as you go The scents of all tiie flowers mat blow; Waft each perfume that breathes of pi To her, the pride of Nature's treasure. Go, gentle Sigh, and speed thy way. Warm from my heart without delay; Pour in her ear the love-lorn ditty. And sweetly soothe her «oul to pity. THREE SPAMAIiDS. 157 ^ Go, Tagrant, go, o'er dale and hill. Nor stay thee near the tinkling rill: Nor whisper in the whisp'ring rushes; Nor linger where the water flushes. Let not the blushing village lass, Attract, as o'er the lawns you pass: Nor let her witching graces stay thee, Lest tales unmeaning should betray me. Go, gentle Sigh, to where the maid. Reposes in the tranquil shade; Her ear with love's complainings greeting. Soft as thyself; and, ah! as fleeting. Or, it she thee disdain to hear. Thy pinions lightly waving near; Still in her wanton tresses straying. Or in her garments idly playing. Go, mingle with her balmy breath. Nor fear her anger will be death; For life renewed shall bless thy daring. With her, etherial zephyrs sharing. Return, then, gentle Sigh, return. With rapture flow, with ardor burn; Inhaled by me (with bliss past telling) My breast shall be thy constant dwelling. By the tim« I had run my thoughts to the last fancy, Raolo returned with a chaise. He had made in((uiry upon the road, but had gained no information, and I made no doubt of their having, before the day should betray' them turned aside into some obscure cross-road, where they might dispose of the postillion ; or, probably concealei^. themselves in a forest not above a league distatit,-. where they might bury him and depart at night^t- 168 THREE SPANIARDS. At Toledo I made no delay, Ijeing impatient again to visit ray paternal home, from which I had been near two years absent. My mother re- oeived me with a transport of satisfaction. At her entreaty I consented to quit the army and become a civil member of society. I found my fortune extensive as the honors it has to support, and 1 seemed to have only one wish to gratify to render me above the frowns of fortune . but without which her gifts loft half their vaUie. I received letters from Fernando amongst the military despatches which tranquilized tlie fears I had for his safety He spoke of his good health, and hinted at the mysteries which yet disturbed him. He seemed unwilling to trust matters of consequence by this doubtful conveyance, and I might aciinowledge, that I could only surmise his situation from dark and distant phrases. I employed a nobleman of my acquaintance, and a person for whom I knew Don Padilla h;id some respect, to interfere in my favor; making him ))ropositions Miat might have satisfied a |;rince but he rejected all my overtures with unqualified contempt, protesting, by all the universe, he would sooner hang his daughter upon a tree of the fore.-f, than give her to a man, whom he cont^idered as his most virulent enemy, and whom he hated with the greatest bitterness. It was easy for me to guest the fears that rank- led .n his mind. He was far from ignorant that I ■was mformed of his secrets, and wanted only pos- itive proof to strip him of all his possessions. I likewise knew that in the midst of all his luxury he lamented having nothing but girls, who would carry his fortune into other houses if they married, and his name would be forexer extinct. Tlii? pas- sion for an heir, united with licentiousness, had led him several times to offer his hand to difterent ladies since the death of Lady Zidana, and their refusal had increa.=ed the di.=ease of his mind. The last letter I recci^ed li-cin Fernando is near THREE SPANIARDS, !» twelve months since. It informed mc, that, from reasons of imperious necessity, he had changed his regiment, joining one that was under orders of em- bai-iut I have been unable to penetrate into his rea- sons foe immuring Almira, unless to gratify his «vil dispositioa. See, then, my friend, the situa- tioB in which I standi lend me your counsel, and give me your heart. Let not a whisper of my se- cret pass over your lips, and we will, if possible, counteract Padilla ; and beauty and merit wiU beoHf reward.** THREE SPANIARDS. 169 Here the Marquis of Denia concluded his narra- tive, which had sunk into the heart of his friend, and raised in his mind wonder he could not con- ceal, and an interest he resolved to pursue. " I am yours," said he, reaching out liis hand to the Marquis. " To obtain Almira and Vir- ginia, to rescue them from this ugenerous treat- ment, and to bring Don PadiUa to justice, is a no- ble exploit, and what we owe to the public. It is for us who possess wealth and power to step for- ward as the instruments of justice, to protect the weak, to redress the wrongs of the innocent, and to punish the guilty." The Marquis of Denia smiled at the ardour of his young friend. "What pity," said he " we did not live, at least, one or two ages ago, we might then have mounted our mettled coursers, and pranced away in glittering armor to rescue ladies, and to fight with giants." *• And why not now," replied Antonio. " Are the refinements of modern times to supercede vir- tuous actions! Had I been in love with Virginia, I would, ere this, have carried her away, sword in hand, from the castle. What enterprise could be more congenial to a generous mindl The ar- dour of spch an undertaking would have prevented you from sinking into that painful disease, and your reward would have been a prize worth con- tending." " But remember," said Albert, " that it would be her father you had to oppose. You have had no experience of this man. A failure in the at- tempt would have involved its object in certain ru- in, and a convent for life, would have been the least efilocts of his vengeance. I have learnt from Count Potenza that such ia his design with regard to Al- mira ; but his motives are too deeply buried in his own breast, even to rise to the eye of friendship." Antonio expressed his apprehension at this inti- mation ; he earnestly entreated his friend to think of some expedient to prevent such a design. They 170 THREE SPANIARDS. discoursed together till the sun had risen far above the horizon, and want of sleep made the eyes of Antonio weary; for he had not, like his friend, been accustomed to watching; and they separated under agreement to meet again in the evening. Antonio retired to his home, and the Marquis of Denia descended to his garden, to plan some means of procuring an interview with Almira He had some acquaintance with Count Potenza, and he proposed to wait upon him for information. Want of rest the preceding night rendered action unplea- sant, and he sat in a little arbor of evergreens, watching the playing of a Ibuntain before a sloping green, and settling in his mind to wait upon the Count after the usual hour of Siesta. The interest Almira had created in the breast of Antonio pleased him, it being a double link to an unqualified friendship, and a chain which bound him in his own service. The fatal incidents which preyed upon his mind by being divided would be lessened ; and were no other advantage to result superior to the pleasures of confidence, that alone was inestimable to a man laboring, as he did, un- der a singular train of events, which seemed to mark him as the victim of persecution he had nei- ther power to foresee or to control. He endeavored to suggest the reasons which could have induced Don Fadilla to take so far a journey, and for such a purpose. Wh}' Almira, rather than Virginia, had incurred his anger,- he could not conceive. The day was clear and warm, and the tranquil- lity of the garden invited him to sleep. For about an hour his thoughts were suspended by slumber, when he was suddenly awakened by an hasty step across the path. He looked up, and started at sight of Raolo in a travelling dress, covered with dust as if he had that moment returned from a long journey. "Ha! my brave fellow," cried the Marquis, THREE SPAMARDS. 171 ** where have you been 1 You seem to have pome of the dust of my palace about you. Are you just returned from your travels ?" " Yes, your Excellenza,'' replied Raolo, in a sorrowful tone, '* I am only this moment returned, and I had much better staid at home." " Then your journey was voluntary," cried the Marquis, more surprised than before. Where in tlie world have you been V " Where I had much better not have been," re- plied he. " it is not fur heads such as mine, to think of succeeding where wiser men fail. A pri- vate soldier should never act without orders : but 1 intended to have taken the gairisoii by surprise, and I hope your Excellenza will forgive me.'' " Forgive you," repeated the Marquis, " I must first know your crime. Sit down, Raolo, and do not fear to tell me every thing; you know I overlook much when the fault is acknowledged. This was a strange adventure of yours — sure you nave not been to the castle of Montillo." •* Your Excellenza has guessed right," replied Raolo, in a tone of humility. " You remember your orders were to fit up the house, and furnish what was wanting till you came; so, judging from myself, I thought a lady would be absolutely ne- cessary, and what lady so welcome as the partic- ular one of our choice; and so " •'And so whatl" cried the Marquis, scarcely knowing whether to be angry or pleased. " Go on sir." Raolo turning his whip in his hand, began: "I knew that your Excellenza had repeatedly sent letters to the old steward at the Castle of Montil- lo, and your never receiving any, naturally led you to conclude your lady dead; for a mistress might as well be dead as not to answer her lover. Beside, I thought all your illness arose from pin- ing after the lady, and I resolved in my own mind to carry her off to your country house, and sur- prise you when you least expected. 172 THREE SPANIARDS. " I arrived safe at the little hamlet, about a league from the castle, where I thought it best to take up my lodging; and having tliere some little acquaintance, 1 was heartily welcomed to the cot- tage o!" ht)nest Perez, and hi3 two very pretty daughter?." " And these two very pretty daughters have stolen thy senses," said the Marquis. *' I hope not, your Excellenza: I have so little myself, that it would be a pity to lose them for the sake of a woman. ** Well, Perez," said 1, after his first surprise was over, " how goes all at the castlel All in the old way, I suppose 1 The ladies are not married yet, are theyV " No, no," said Perez, shaking his head as if he wanted to look wise: '* Don Glum never lets any body see them. There they are, mewed up like two nuns. Gemini, says I to myself when I think what a |)ity it is — Now if I were a great gentle- man, I'd soon scale the castle walls, and carry off these pretty charmers, O, by the Mass, what a glorious passion old Glum would be in ! It would do one's heart good to see him at half a league's distance," ** But suppose you was in the garden, Perez, how could you contrive, perhaps they never come there r-' ** Yes, yes," replied he, " I know they do : there's my daughter Marta, frequently goes with curds and cream to the castle, and she has once been in the gardens, helping the ladies to gather flowers: and she says they sigh so, and look so pale, that it grieves my heart." *' If that be the case," said I, "you will not object to my endeavoring to speak to them. Your daughter, Marta, can carry a line from me, and give it to the lady Virginia's own hand. I can easily get over the old tottering wall near the riv- er side, and hide myself in the green temple. Pe- rez would have ^ught shy, when he found that I THREE SPAiMARDS. 173 was in earnest; but I silenced his scruples with a double doubloon, which the scholars at Toledo us- ed to say was the boldest figure in rhetoric. Is old Glum at the Castlel" said I. " He's not gone again to Grenadal" " There has been the devil to pay," returned Perez, grinning. " Nothing would satisfy him at his years, but he must have a young wife, and so it came out what his visits to Grenada had been for." " What do you say, Raolol" cried the Marquis ** Is Don Padilla married againl" "No, Senor," replied Kaolo; " he was only going to be, but a stranger arrived just as he was leading the bride to the altar, and the match was broken off in confusion. Nobody knows who the stranger was, as he did not stay half an hour in the place; but as soon as he delivered his message, and created all the confusion he could, he mount- ed and rode away. Some people say it was no hu- man being, but the ghost that frightened away the guests on the night of his marriage witli Lady Zi- dana: but whatever, or whoever it was, Don Pa- dilla was cheated of a wedding. " This was all that I could learn about the mat- ter. I lay by three or four days disguised like a peasant, never stirring from the cottage while there was as much light as to see one's nose Weil, your Fxcellenza, little Maria's day came to go to the castle, so I gave her a billet, just lo say who I was, a^Jid where I would wait for the .ady. " Little Marta soon conned over her lesson,and no doubt acquitted herself very dexterously. The ladies were in a strange flutter at the unexpected news of my coming from the handsome Marquis; for so little Marta told me tliey called yuur Ex- cellenza; but she could not get them to promise to meet me. I fancied that I knew something about the character of the womeU| and I would have laid 174 THREE SPANIARDS. my last suit of regimentals to a maravidie, that one or both would be there. " Accordingly, as soon as it was dark, I stole through the bye-patha till I came to the old wall of the garden, where it stands on the bank of the river. I found it more difficult to climb than I had supposed, and it was with some hazard 1 got safe into the garden, 1 picked out my way as well as I could, and after stumbling about a liltle,reach- ed the evergreen temple. 1 listened to hear if all was safe: for, thought I, the old Don may have some suspicion, though I did not conceive how ; but, your Excellenza, when one's mind misgives them, they are afraid of their shadow." " That is most true, Kaolo," said the Marquis: ♦' it is thence that villains are generally cowards : but proceed." " I hid m^^self amongst the rose bushes, and waited there till the (;lock struck twelve. How the old castle echoed with the heavy sounds. I would rather be guard upon an out-[X)st than in such a situation again ; fur I then recollected all the frightful •stories I had heard about the castle being haunted; and now that the ladies did not appear, I wislied mj self safely back. Well, the half-hom- chime went by, and no ladies came near roe, so I began to think they hi-uHost their curios- ity; and so, thought 1, I have made all this long journey for the purpose of laying here all night, and may now go back like a boy that has forgot his message. Presently 1 heard somebody step- ping lightly along the path, and as they came near, Kaolol Raolo! Raolo! says they, in a low voice, which I knew directly belonged to one of the ladies, it was so soft, and so sweet, and so frightened. " Here am I, lady," said I, jumping up, and stepping into the path. '• O, jueiciful Virgin!" exclaimed she. '• I am wild widi tenor and a;>prehei)sii)n. What brings you hither, Raolo 5 How doe.s \oiu- maslerl" THREE SPANIARDS. 175 ** Charming Virginia!" ejaculated the Mar- quis: " did she indeed inquire after me!" — " No, Senor," replied Raolo.— " No," cried the Mar- quis, " did you not sav so this moment'?" •' Aye, Senor, but 1 did not say who. — It was not Donna Virginia, it was Donna Almira. I made the same mistake at first myself in the gar- den." " I must not stay a moment," said Almi- ra; " my sister Virginia has mislaid the letter you sent, and we know not where it is: she was too much flurried to come. Have you heard lately from the Marquis's friend, Fernandol" " Yes, yes," said I, " he was in good health and spirits. The Marquis, my master, is building a new house, and I have stolen away to see if I could not steal him a wife to be a mistress of it; for you know, lady, an house without a mistress is no house at all. — She laughed, and inquired if I Was really in earnest in the scheme, and why your Excellenza did not come, and how I would man- age so difticult a business, and a hundred questions in a breath; just like all the rest of the ladies, thought I at the time, but I did not tell her so. I replied, that on the following night, if she and la- dy Virginia would be in the garden at the same hour, 1 would have a boat ready on the river, and a ladder fastened to the wall: when nothing coul'd be more easy. " Perhaps in words, but not in fact," replied Almira. " I have run a thousand hazards to-night, and must be back in a moment." " In one moment, lady," said I, " you shall return : but after I have traversed so many leagues, it will be an ungracious reception my master will give me if I return alone. Surely it would be a life of greater pleasure in Madrid than herel" :-" I confess," replied she, " if it were not for the danger, and if I could persuade Virginia, I should be willing to'go. I am tired enough of thli dreary, frightful old castle." 176 THREE SPANIARDS. *♦ Are you so," cried a voice harsh as the crash- ing of thunder, « by the deeps of hell thou shalt not remain long within it." " My father!" shrieked the terrified lady, and fell upon the steps of the temple in a swoon. Don Padiila paid no attention to his daughter, but drawing his sword, he made at me in the dark. I had no weapon but a little rapier and brace of pistols, nor dared 1 use these against hiin in his own garden. I leaped into a thicket of evergreens and Almira being between us, in attempting to fol- low, he fell over her, and I escaped without far- ther difficulty. " I made haste to inform Perez of this unfortu- nate business, and, poor fellow, he was almost as much damped as myself. Poor Marta spoiled her pretty eyes with crying, as she must no more visit at the castle. I was within an ace of blow- ing my brains out at this unfortunate end of my exploit; but recollecting, few as I had, I could not put them in again, I thought better of it. I quit- ted the cottage immediately, skulking about in the forest like a fox round an hen-roost, but not a soul from the castle made their -appearance the first day. " On the second morning, one of the men-ser- vants passed along the path towards the river with a fishing net. "Halloo! Comrade," cried I: " I suppose you come from yon castlel" " Sup- pose 1 do," returned he sulkily, "I am no comrade of yours.'* — " Many a better man has that hon- or," said I. " Come, come, how goes all at the castle, Martin, and Gonzalez, and Hugo, and all the lasses '? " Mighty familiar," muttered he, staring at me. ♦' What's all this to youl 1 dont know you." " You foi get your old friend," said I ; ** I know you, and by the time you and 1 have finish- ed this flask of aqua vitae, we shall know each other. I once lived at the castle myself; it was before VQur time." — *' No, did you 1" cried he. THREE SrA.MAliDS. 177 •apiii?; I have :)«)t been long tlierc," — " I U.i' \v that/* returned J, " or you would have known lue. Come, I'll help you fish, I havo a lucky hand at a haul; my fatlier used to drag the net in the bay of Ns»ples, and my mother cried the produce through the city." The fellow showed his large teeth, and clapping the flask to his mouth, 1 completely gained his heart. " He informed me that Donna Ahnira was ill; that Don Padilla had given order* for a journey to Madrid in a few days, with intent to confine her in a convent, with the lady mother of which he was particularly acquainted. *' This intelligence was sufficient, I soon found an excuse to leave him to ids fishing, and hasten- ed to Tolosa, where I had left my horse, 1 thought very likely this story of his going to Madrid was only a feint, to conceal tlie true place where he meant to bury Almira; and being determined that he should not beat a march without pursuit, I waited several dajs in aniJ2usci:de for him. He set out at last, well mounteU and armed; I follow- ed upon the track, keeping so far in the rear as not to be discovered. He arrived in this city yes- terday afternoon, and I sliould have been at night but- ray horse fell tiicd: and now, youi Excellen- za. I have ojdy to ask your forgiveness of the blun- ders 1 liave unintentionally connnitted," Tiio Marquis, at the conclusion of this atory, couid not but admire the zeal of his servant, which had undesignedly produced so unpleasant a Consequence; and as it explained to him incidents and inctives which had before perplexed him, he contented himself with cautioning Raolo, never to be guilty of a similar crime, it not being his place tr) judge what was fitting, or what was best, since all his CDmlusiims must be drawn from the surface of thingsT The Marquis of Denia, on this information, de- termined to postpone his visit to Count Potenza, where he ran the hazard of meeting Don P»^*^^* 12 178 THREE SPANIARDS. be even thought it preferable that Antonio fihouUI make his court through the medium of that noble- m?.n, witho'it mentioning his connection with him- self. He wished indeed for an interview with Al- miru, that he might speak of her sister ; but he knew not how to effect this with security, as he bad no doubt her father would guard her with ua remitting vigilance. In the evening Antonio did not fail visiting his friend. They took a walk together on the Prada, m hope that Ahnira might be there with some of the Count's family. In this they were disappoint- ed, Don Padiilaaiid the Count being in company. " Now for a coup de main,'' said the Marquii ofDenia: " we must not be seen here together or my scheme will be frustrated. — Throw yourself in their way, you are acquainted with the Count engage them, and detain them for an hour; I wi^ hasten to the palace, and see if 1 can obtain an in terview." Antonio was charmed with this scheme, anc wishing tlie Marquis success, in the next turn ol the walk threw himself in the way of the Coum and Padilla, addressing himself particularly to thfe former, while to the latter he was reservedly po« lite. The common subjects of the day were dis- cussed : when observing a lady, whojie air anc manner had some slight resemblance to that of Al- mira, he inquired the Counts opinion of her; ob- serving he thought her at a distance very much like the lady he had the honor of seeing the pre- ceding evening at the Duke D'Alcantara's. " ] think," said he to Don Padilla, " you called hei your daughter; I may be mistaken." " I know not," returned Don Padilla, in a for- bidding manner, "that I said any thing about her: you have a better memory than I, Marquis." " We always remember what interests us," re- plied Antonio, bowing. " Had that lady not been your daughter, I should ha\'e desired a furtl»er ac quainm modesty, was obliged to silence him ; and, for the rest of the evening, B3ore gc.icral jiubjecte were discns."ed. I8l> THREE SPANIARDS Antonio, who was impatient to learn the enc- eesa of his friend, took leave when the evening be- gan to close, and the company to thin; and the Uount, on their return, recurring to their former discourse, endeavored to persuade Padilla into a change of opinion, but without effect, to the no lit- tle astonishment of Count Potenza, who began to suspect that there must be a great and a secret reason for the refusal of an offer so every way un- objectionable. The Marquis of Denia hastened to the palace of Count Potenza, he was admitted by the servants without question, being well known, and hastened to pay hjs respects to the Count's sister. Lady Bertha, with whom he found, as he expected. Don- na AlmJra. She blushed at his unexpected en- trance, but had sufficient presence of mind to check the particular questions he was going to address to herself by a signal for his silence. La- dy Bertha being blind of one eye, they conversed at intervals by signs, the Marquis urging her to allow him, a moment's audience in private which she seemed afraid to grant, as her father might suddenly return. " Don't you think it a great pity. Marquis,'* said Donna Bertha, "that so fine a young lady should be condemned to a cloisterl" " Not only a pity," cried the Marquis, warm- ly, but the most unpardonable cruelty. I cannot think Heaven well served, by a vow against tha< first commands of God to man." " Ycu think exactly as 1 do," said Donna Ber- tha. " I was telling Don Padilla but this after- noon all that I thought on the subject, and I told him also that I thought he refined upon his bar- barity, by just allowing his daughter to taste, for a moment, the pleasures of existence, purposely to deprive her of them forever. He replied, she would not be able to pray from her heart against the temptations of life, if*^ she had not some little knowledge of what they were." THREE SPANIARDS. 181 " His motive is no\y very clear," said the Mar- quis, looking at Almira ; but how shall it be frus- trated 1" •• Make her your wife," said Lady Bertha, ris- ing up abruptly; " I shall leave you to settle the terms. On which, without further ceremony, she quitted the room, having no doubt observed that the Marquis and Almira were much better acquainted than they seemed willing should be known. " This is beyond my hopes, my charming cou- sin," cried the Marquis, starting up and saluting her. " Last night I dared not make a single in- quiry lest I should betray myself. JNow tell me all that I can have interest in knowing. Tell me what were the consequences of the blunders of Ra- olol Tell rae, if V^irginia yet remembers meV " She has not forgot you," replied Almira, *• however painful it may be to remember those whom we can never hope to see. But you say nothing abont Fernando, Marquis! What is become of your friend]" " I know not," replied the Marquis; " I have not heard from him for many months ; but I have another friend equally dear, who does justice to your merits; let hi:n supply to you, as he does to me, the friend we have lost; let him even be more, for you know, my dear cousin, Fernando was not what you wished him to be." " I understand you," said Almira, blushing and sighing: " I suppose you mean that young man who rescued me from the flames last night. I ac- knowledge that gratitude obliges me to esteem him. There was something in his manner that aflfected me, probably from my ignorance of the world; and I confess I could have-wished him for a brother, to share our confinement in the castle. But now Albert, that is over: I am condemned to that state for which I am most unfit. If tome the drearinees of the castle of Montillo was insuffera- 182 THREE SPANIARDS. ble, how much more so will be the routine of a convent, and that convent the Dominican nunal** " Don Padilla is not cruel by halves!" exclaim- ed the Marquis. " But ia there no means to res- cue yon from this fotel" " Alas! no. My father has sworn by tWe most fearful oaths. His temper has, if possible been a thousand times more gloomj. He is, at times, I do think, actually mad. — My sister trembles for her life, and I know not, when I am away, what will become of her." " I swear," cried the Marquis, glowing with resentment; "1 swear by every thing sacred, I •vill protecrt her." Then taking her hand, he lowered his voice, he said: "Let my friend, Antonio delos Velos, also protect you. He will tly at a word to lay himself, his life, and his fortune at your feet — " "Hold," said Ahnira ; "do not speak thus to me. You rend my heart.— Ah, Marquis, what sacrifice would I not make to avoid a greater. Fernando — ■" "Cannot bo yours," said the Marqujs, tenderly. "Dearest Almira, you would not wish the hand of a man who has no heart to dispose of, if he even lives.' " I know, I know," cried she, passionately, " your friend always treated me with indifference. I see too plainly I must take the detested veil." The Marquis smilea. — " Think beiter of it," said he, "an handsome young nobleman, with a considerable revei^ue, must outweigh a rosaiy and a crucifix. A little time will probably bring you to my way of reasoning, and, at worst, you have a year'ii probation betbie you perform the vows. In twelve months, my cousin, how many greater changes will happen tliKn the alteration of a lady's mind. Now let us speak of your sister." He was interrupted by the return of the Count's sister, who significantly inquired if Almira was to be a nun. " I fear it, indeed," replied the Marquis, ** un- less yoq can persuade her there are more charms iu a nobloman'a palace than a convent." THREE SPANIARDS. 18S »* I ehall scarcely have time," replied she, "be- fore the return of my brother ; it is already near sine o'clock." " So late!" cried the Marquis, starting up, ♦' I have already taken two hours instead of one." The Marquis hastened away, admiring on what contrivance Antonio could have fallen to hold them so late. He had not been gone many min- utes when the Count and Don Padilla returned. *'VVe have met with a lover for you in our ram- ble," said the Count to Almira (Don Padilla be- ing engaged at the window); "but I know not how we shall bring the business to bear." " Don't give yourself any concern," replied his sister. " We have had one lover here ourselves, so you may abandon yours to a forlorn hope." " May I know who that is V inquired the Count. " We must barter for an exchange of secrets at least," answered she; "but Almira, have I your permission" " Nay,'' retured Almira in a low voice, and a look of alarmed apprehension, " you have gone too far to require it, but the Marquis is no lover of mine, indeed." " Why that indeed!" said the Count laughing; " I can answer for the Marquis that he is, he told me so himself this very evening. IJe even made pioposals to your father, and it is net a quarter of an hour since he left us." Donna Bertha could scarce refrain from laugii- ing out. " Y(ju would not," said she, "persuade me J have neither eyes nor ears, the Marquis de Denia has been with us more than two hours, and it is but this moment — " " The .^Sarquis de Denia!" cried Don Padilla, turning round in anger — " Has the Marquis de Denia d.ned? — but hovv came you, Almira — Was you not aware of my detestation ; my utter and inextinguishable hatredl Death and fury I Am I t« h« thwarted at erery tura by this wretckl li«t 164 THREE SPAMARHS. 1 will some day have revenge. Count, I beg your pardon : my passions are sometimes loo much for my discretion. Almiia, 1 will be obeyed — pre- pare this very night for the convent." -' " Hold a moment," cried the Count: " this is a very fo(jbsh business. The Marquis came as a visitor to me, your daughter denies his being a lo- ver of hers, and my sister declares what she said was in raillery." " 1 know better, I know better," repeated tlie enraged Padilla, as he stalked about the room with a distorted countenance. ♦' That wretch crosses me at every turn, but it is my own fault; I am a fool, a child, thus to trifle." Amidst these exclamations, he suddenly recol- lected their impolicy, and shrinking into his usual gloominess, he spent the rest of the evening in sul- len silence, firmly determined that on the next day his daughter should begin her novitiate. Antonio hastened from the Prada to meet his friend, when their mutual success was related, and future plans discussed, without any positive ar- rangement. " I am going, to-night," said Anto- nio, " to treat her with a Serenade. I have pro- vided music, and the words are from an old Span- ish romance. I have a tolerable voice, and will sing them to a guitar*if you will accompany me.'* To this the Marquis made no objection; but, having need of repose, he lay down for an hour to rest. He was awakened by his impatient friend about eleven o'clock, who, having provided an ex- cellent band of musicians, Raolo and Philip, An- tonio's servant, attended them well armed, noth- ing being more common than rencounters in the Bti-eets from the jealousy or mistakes of lovers. They were not long in reaching the palace of the Count Potenza, where, having taken their sta- tion, the musicians preluded with a'^sj'mpliony, which ceasing, Antonia sung the following air, ac- companied by bis friend. THREE SFAMAllDS. 186 SERENADE. Art thoii awake, or art thou sleeping, Love may attack thee, Lady Fairl Where is the heart so safe in keeping. As to elude the secret snarel Cupid, a wanton, slily enters, Sometimes the eye, sometimes the ear: Boldly to gilded domes he ventures, Wrapp'd in the garb of bashful fear. SYMPHONY. Rise thee, and hear me, Lady Fair. Then, dearest maid, be not disdaining. That power the proudest once must feel ; List to an heart whose fond complaining, Love's brightest passion would reveal. Then again close thine eyes in slumbers — Should Love perchance invade thy breast, Music attuned to softest numbers. Shall sooth thy mind to sweetest rest. SYMrMONY. Rise thee, and hear me. Lady Fair. After an interval of silence, they again perform- ed the same air: but Almira not appearing at the lattice, they were obliged to retire without the satisfaction of knowing she had heard them, though of that there could be little doubt. Their compa- ny was too numerous to dread any common at- tack, and they returned in safety to the palace of the Marquis of Denia. Antonio, early the following day, sent a present of the finest fruit Madrid could produce, accompa- nied with a note of respectful compliments to Pa- dilla ; but he was deaf alike to interest, to reason, and to nature. 186 THREE SPANIARDS. CHAPTER XII. Thrice blessed ihey that master so their blood, To undergo such maiden pilgrimage! But earthlier happy is the rose distilled. Than that which withering on the virgin thorn. Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness. Shakspeare. Early in the morning Don Padilla conducted his daughter to the Convent of Dominican Nuns, with a severe charge to the Lady Mother of the foundation, that she should not permit any stranger to see, much less to hold correspondence with his daughter. It was his knowledge of her severe and inflexible disposition which caused him to select her house from that of many others in more eligi- ble situations; he knew the mother, St. Agatha, would measure out to those around her, that por- tion she herself had partaken: having been drag- ged from the arms of a favored lover in the prime of her life, and buried within those barren and un- pitying walls: in place of learning from them to commisserate the woes of others, from a wrong turn in her disposition, arose an inveterate hatred against any who presumed to aspire to greater pleasures than she had experienced, and she con- sidered the exercise of her power as a just retalia- tion upon fortune. Under such a superior Almira could expect no indulgence; and when the gate which barred her from the world closed upon her, she wished again to have had the old castle to ramble over, with her sister Virginia fo share in her conversation, and to plan some little scheme of innocent amusement. The narrow gloomy cloisters were even more soli- tary than the heavy gothic galleries of the castle of Montillo, and the emblems of religion inspired more reverential awe than the relics of martial grandeur. THREE SPANIARDS. 187 Almira was of that disposition which wishes for some companion to share the pleasures of frienil- shij); lier heart was too gay for those solitary scenes of endless monotory, and the night wliicli had first introduced hertoan assembly, ohiiiejated, in a few moments, the reflection of what had brought her to Madrid. This fairy scene was as transient as it was bright ; she felt (as her father had intended) in greater force the misery of her situation. She had placed her affections, at a first acquain- tance, with her cousin Fernando, not from any motive of comparative preference, but because he had been the only young man with whom she had been in any way familiar; and his coolness and indiffierence, perhaps augmented the flame. In the habitation of piety, she looked round in vain for a sister open and candid as herself; for a bosom that might siiare her confidence in the puri- ty of female love. All here were cold'aiid repulsive. Music indeed warbled on their lips, but charity had no abode in their hearts. Sins long since commit- ted rankled with corrosive violence on minds which no other occupation could divert iVom re/lection Regret and unmeaning repentance soured the dis- position of those who had too late discovered that diey hud chosen wrong; and a few, very kw, tast- ed the inebriating cup of enthusiastic religion, which enabled to look with indiflerence upon the contrasting gaiety of thg world that surrounded them. Almira secluded herself as much as she could with jMopriety in i»er own cell; wiicre she could not avoiii repining at the harshness of her lot; and in place of breathing petitions to Heaven for grace to adopt and become the habit, she daily uttered wishes at tlie foot of the altar that Fernando, or even the Marquis de los Velos, niight find meana to rescue her. The routine ol^ religious ceremony was but u partial amusement, and could not r<»- Jievc her mind frorn iui weight of overbearing sad- 188 THREE SPANIARDS. ness. It even augmented her serious reflections, and she found herself fast approaching to that ap- athy which arises from universal disgust. Amongst the sisterhood Almira could distin- guish no friend, but amongst the borders was a young lady, whose name was Saphira, whose in- nocent conversation and lively remarks engaged her attention ; and though her years (being scarce- ly sixteen) admitted not of unbounded confidence, yet her company was amusement and pleasure. They read together, but it was the dry uninvit- ing morality of the fathers. They sung together, but it was hymns and religious airs. They ram- bled together in the garden; but it was in a gar- den where every object reminded them of mortali- ty, and every step might be supposed to pass over the mouldering bones of some departed friend. Melancholy yews and solemn cypresses formed the alleys; no flower of variegated hue, or bril- liant appearance, was admitted into this sanctua- ry ; and which ever way the eye turned sadness and silence seemed to sit brooding upon death The termination of the walk opened not upon a beautiful vista, or capacious temple ; a shade of impenetrable twilight mingled them in confusion, as though the glorious beams of the sun were too gay for admission, where mistaken piety had pla- ced her abode. # The garden, dreary as it was, was preferable to the interior of the building, where shade spread its gloom at noon day, and pale figures in long white robes, with black veils and black girdles, glided through the galleries and cloisters like in- habitants of a spiritual world. Almira discovered with surprise, that even in these abodes of suppos- ed tranquility, where the passions of the heart should have been charmed into slumber, discord and ambition had extended their influence, and occupi- ed in tlie bosoms of too many the place of devotion. The Abbess was in the decline of life, and the senior sisters each had a view to tlie succession. THREE SPANIARDS. 189 which created parties and cabals within the walls, as inveterate, perhaps, as those of the different colors in ancient history. Almira was yet too insignificant to be courted by either any further than for her opinion, whether Mother Urbania was not more preferable than Mother Isola"? Such questions, which to her inspired no interest, and to which she was wholly indifferent, she declined with delicacy, observing that it was not for her who had so recently entered the society to form a judgment of her superiors. Saphira was equally uninterested; but even her youthful observations pointed against the folly and eagerness of women, and these womeir-ftr advanced in life, aspiring to the transient shadow of power, when it was almost an equal chance whether themselves might not first become inhabitants of the grave. " There must be something sweet in the posses- sion of power," said Almira one day to her young hearer, " or why should these old ladies grasp at its possession with so much violence: for my part I should like to be the queen of some flowery island, guarded round with high walls, that might defend it alike from enemies and the attacks of the ocean. I would have all my subjects beautiful and peaceful, and 1 would dispense to them every bles- sing in my power to bestow. I would have fine palaces, tine gardens, elegant entertainment of music and dancing, •nd the whole kingdom should be a little paradise of enchantment." *• But who," said Saphira, innocently, ** w'ould you have to build all your palaces, perform on your music, or work in your kitchen'?" ' That is true," replied Almira, " nothing can be performed without labor, and where there is labor there will be discontent, and where there is no labor there will be heart-burning and jeal- ousy about insignificant trifles, such as gangrenes the real pleasures of contemplation within these walls; walls, which would otherwise hold out an asylum, much to be prized by those who have been ISO THREE SPAMARDS. unfortunate, who have lost all their friends, or who are weary of the world." " And I think," said Saphira, '* one must be all these before they can admire and love these gloomy little chambers, and these moping nuns. For my part, when I am obliged to go along these dark galleries by myself, 1 am almost afraid some spectre will start upon me from the obscurity, for one can neither see before or behmd, it is exactly like a fog of twilight mist." Almira, in company with this young friend, en- deavored to soften down the rigors of solitude, but she could not suppiess the repinings of hei heart. Fernando's indiflerence accounted for his long silence; but the same excuse did not excul- pate the Marquis de los Velos: he, who pretend- ed to be deeply enamored, could yet suffer days and weeks to pass away without so much as one visit, or the smallest token of remembrance. She was ignorant of the restriction placed upon her, which prevented her receiving any message, visi- tor, or letter, and she knew not the ineffectual de- vices cf Antonio to gain admission: her mind be- gan to be dimmed by the gloom around it, and hopeless dejection saddened her tiioughts. Her little companion, wlio, till the death of her parents, had been habituated to all the splendor and vivacity of the world, was even more affected than Almira by the contrast. Her mind insensi- bly imbibed all the terrors which strict religious discipline, when united with bigotry, is calculated to inspire. Her sprightly temper lost its lone: her mind became the prey of fictitious horrors, and all her thoughts turned upon futurity. The friendly discourses of Almira by degrees became irksome, and, like a vitiated taste, nothing could give her pleasure that did not lead to the general subject of her conversation. For whole days she would ramble in the darkest recesses of th'e gar- den, and she soon became so changed, that neither hiH- sentiments nor her person could have been i THREE SPANIARDS. 191 known for the same, after a confinement of lest than three months. Her mind had not had suffi- cient experience to preserve its tone ; it sunk be- neath the awful ceremonies and uielanciioly duties of a convent. Her health decayed, and it was with extreme affliction Ahtiira beheld this lovely girl sinking fast into the grave. She endeavored to divert her mind with more lively prospects; she attended her with an affec- tionate interest which deprivedherself of rest,and she mourned over her as a blighted flower wither- ing before its perfections were fully disclosed. It is impossible to be perpetually in any compa- ny without imbibing, insensibly, the sentiments of that company, whether they be vicious or whether they be good: so Almira found that the constant habit of attending the innocent Saphira, arrested and fixed her own mind upon the awful mysteries of religion, which, added to the daily lectures they attended, were calculated to fill her mind with in- difference for life, and incline it to adopt the man- ners, and become less repugnant to the idea of tak- ing the irrevocable vow. She attended with more fervor the services of the church, when she quitted the couch of sick- ness: she felt not so much aversion to her lot, and there were times when she even thought that if Saphlia could remain as her com|)anion, she should not feel much reluctance at renouncing for ever the vanities of a transient life. Of this there were nn hopes, for the sun never arose without witnessing some alteration or decay in her friend's person, and she looked forward with painful anxi- ety to the short period which would terminate her transient existence upon earth. Saphira was conscious of her approaching disso- lution,.and beheld it with pleasure. " My dear friend,"' said she one evening, as Almira sat by the side of her bed, " wherefbre do you weepl I feel something within me that says we shall soon meet again. 1)0 vou not rememb<>r tiw toys ymi 192 THREE SPANIAilu;:}. BO admired when a bahy, the fondness you firofes- sedibr them'? anddid you not thhik you coiiJd ijet- er part from theml But as you grew up, how in- significant they became in your eyes, and yxjU'tlten threw them away as worthless iridet!. — Just so iJlie soul learns to despise this World, as it gains--4i knowledge of the future." Sapbira shortly declined l«yond tlie powers of medicine, and Almira, ■fe'liile she belield her, fve quently slied tears, reflecting that but a very lit- tle time would go over tliem, ere those polished limlw would become flaccid, ere those eyes would cease to convey impressions of intelligence; and that voice, harmonious as music, be silent for ever. " O, death !" cried she, as she sat on the little coarse bed in tiie narrow dark chamber: " O, re- morseless death ! thou tearest asunder all the con- nections of love, family, and friendship. Thou solemn embassador of futurity, no bribe can turn thee from thy purpose, no consideration stay thine hand." A deep sigh caught her attention; she started, and looked fearfully round. Saphira had fallen into a feverish slumber, and her sighs arose more from bodily oppression than the thoughts of her mind. For two days she continued to linger, eve- ry hour apparently at the last extremity ; and on ihe third she breathed her last in the arms of .lier weeping friend. Almira was inconsolable at this event, though so long expected. She threw herself upon the corpse of the departed maid, and gave way to an agony of tears which relieved her heart. This was the first friend she had ever lost by death, and nhe had difficulty to believe, though reason con- firmed it, that she was, indeed, gone forever. It 3oemed so incredible, that without any external violence or struggle, the principle of existence should depart its abode, and she gazed with ear- nest anxiety expecting that those lips might again if but fo. once more, pronounce some endearii»<» seiuence of aflcc ti'>n. THREE fcPAMAIlDS. IPJ At last she unwillingly withdrew, lye'wg unabw to attend the last offices of friendship; and throw- ing herself upon a chair in her own little cliamber, she remained, for a long time, in a reverie of grief which clouded her understanding, and, for a time, rendered life indifferent. A young lady, whose name was Valedia, had been received as boarder the day preceding this melancholy event. She was related to many no- ble families: the liveliness of her temper engaged' the hearts of her friends, and it was with surprise they saw her adopt a resolution so unfit for the so- ciability of her manners. The affection Almira bore towards the dying saint was amongst the first subjects of conversation, and she possessed an ear- nest desire to become acquainted with a character which she conceived to resemble her own. She refrained breaking in upon the sacredness of grief; but when the first transports of passionate affec- tion had subsided, she introduced herself to the cell of Almira, whose mind could not resist the tone of her con\ersation, and from that moment an attraction acted mutually between them. She seemed to Almira as sent by Heaven at a moment Avhen she most required a confidant and friend, and the one listened while the other related the merits of the departed Saphira. That young lady had been a general favorite in the convent: her birth was high, her connections great, and her youth deprived jealousy of its sting All the nuns lamented her loss, and celebrated her virtues as a saint, preparing to solemnise her obsequies in a manner at once grand and impres- sive. Almira and Valedia prepared to attend this cer- emony. On the fourth Jnight after her death the sisters, all clad in white, with black crape veils down to the ground, |and black girdles, repyaired to the church of the convent, which was illuminated with tapers. The altar was hung wHh black* aad the ▼OL. I. 13 194 THREE SPANIARDS. vaults were open in the body of the church. The novices, dressed in white, blore the coffin with the body of their sister, and the Father Confessor chanted before them the solemn service. The monks who attended the duties of the con- vent were habited in black, and ranged themselves on each side beneath the steps of the altar. When the whole were seated, a solemn mass was per- formed for the repose of the dead. Almira was too much affected to bear an active part, and sat down on one side leaning upon the bosom of Valedia. From the deep grief which seized her mind at the solemnity around her, she aroused to thoughts above earthly things, by the performance of a grand Anthem and Requiem. It was opened by a mournful dirge upon the organ, when the monks and nuns alternately, or in cho- rus performed the following REQUIEM. SOLO— ^ a Nun, accompanied byamourr\fitl Symphony. Vain are our cares, vain our fears Or hoping of to-morrow ; Man through this transient term of years, la still the child of sorrow. The wav'ring breath of human life, As burns awhile the taper. So shines midst want, and pain, and strife. Then vanishes in vapor. Say, what is man, that he should be By Heaven's Most High rewardedl Or how, from vice and sin set free. With future life rewardedl THREE SPANIARDS. 196 RESPONSE— SOLO, by a Monk. He who for humau nature died, In mercy will forgive ; And those who in his puwvc confide. Shall in his glory live. CHORUS. Then raise the lofty organ's note Peal on peal, resounding high ; Strains that up to heaven may float, And wake the concord of the sky : Then louder, louder, louder sing, ' Hosannas to our God and King. SOLO. Ye gates cerulean backwards fly, Ye everlasting doors give way. She comes— a daughter of the sky. And strains celestial round her play. CHANT to tne V^IRGIN. Receive, O Virgin, mother of mankind This sainted daughter to thy holy rest ; To thee her spotless spirit is consign'd. To thee she comes a meek and peaceful guest On earth awhile she bloom'd a fragrant flow'r. No roughen'd thought disturb'd her tranquil mind. But soon elapsed of life her fading hour She fled, and left mortality behind. Ye sister angels, bending down to hear The song of glory, which we feebly raise. Benignant smile as with a list'ning ear Ye catch the tribute of our partial praise. 196 THREE SPANIARDS. TRIO. No more will we oa earth repine, A sister mild, a friend sincere; In worlds of glory shall she shine. Where crimes ne'er move the secret tear. Angelic spirits, glad prepare Robes of white and spotless shade. On untextured pinions bear The spirit of this happy maid. RECITATIVE. To Paradisal bow'rs for ever green. Where palm-trees blooming cool the fervid ray ; And blazing glory, through the sacred scene. Sheds splendid grandeur in eternal day. There saints and seraphs, near tlie living streams • Of flowing fountains, ever mild and pure; In smiling visions, or in grateful themes. Praise Him, who was, and ever shall endure. GRAND CHORUS. Loud, loud hallelujahs, ascending on high. Archangels and seraphs, enraptur'd, reply In chorus, still rising, that never knows end. Loud, loud hallelujahs for ever ascend. The winding up of the last chorus was inexpres' sibly grand. The body of harmony seemed to fill every part of this extensive building: and Almira forgot, in the rapture of sound, and the ideas of eternal glory it inspired, all the particular griefs whith hung upon her soul. Slie had given wings to her imagination, and trod in fancy unimpeded through the starry firmament, mingling with bright THREE SPANIARDS. 197 aerial spirits ia the ineffable pleasure of supernal delight. From this delirium of soul she gradually recov- ered as the sounds died away, and the notes ceased to vibrate along the aisles of the church ; but it enabled her to attend with calmness to the last of- fices to be performed. The whole company de- scended the gloomy stairs into the vaults, the or- gan continuing a slow movement, till the tones were wholly lost in the silence of the tombs. The dim tapers sparkled through the gloom, scarcely bringing to light the rows of mouldering coffins 'which hung with yellow clammy dews, while from the arched roof distilled petrefactive drups. The timid nuns cast many a fearful glance ujjon this last abode, where each knew some iliture hour would bring themselves ; and they secretly seemed to say: " There, or there, Jmust I lay: there must I moulder into dust, and there remain till the final consummation of all things."' The coffin was placed by the side of many oth- ers, and left a vacancy for one upon the top of it. " There," said Almira to Valedia, '* there, upon the house of my friend, let me be placed." She shuddered at the dismal prospect. ** No one can tell," said she, " how soon I may be there, left in total darkness, and lost to self-consciousness." As the sad procession returned, the nuns cast many a fearful glance of inquiry behind them, pale and trembling at the reflected shadows which crept along the wall, and stretched over the cof- fins. Each stole silently to their cell, to meditate on the things they had witnessed; and for that night the machinations of jealousy and ambition were unattended. Almira bade her new friend good night, and placed her lamp at the foot of her crucifix, where an hour-glass stood that was now run out. She turned it, and sat down in a chair opposite, gazing upon the sand as it ran, till her mind was bewilder- ed in melanriioly fancies. The last grain fell, and 198 THREE SPAiNIARDS. she was again turniog the glass when she beard, or fancied she hearcij soft and solemn music steal up- on her ear through the stilness of night. She lis- tened. The sounds swelled clearly along the pass- ing air. " It is then no fency," thought she; " it is not the embodied vibration of the anthem returning upon my ear; it is as a symphony of spirits in the air ; and who knows but my Saphira is greeting me with the music of her companions.*' In a lit- tle time the sounds melted into air, sinking into a tone that could scarcely be caught, when a voice clearly and softly pronounced the name of Alraira. She started up, and opened the door into the cor- ridor, but no one was near. With a sensation of awe she closed it again, and solemnly placed her- self before the crucifix. Again the voice whisper- ed Ahnira, and she looked round with straining eyes. The lamp before the crucifix glimmered and died away, and all around remained dark and pro- foundly silent. Again the music arose, and swell- ed in numbers so sweet and so divine, that fear charmed into pleasure. A gradual light impercep- tibly shone in the chamber, increasing into bright- ness, and a form of smiling and lovely beauty by degrees became visible. Streaming robes of azure and white played around the form in alternate foldings, spangled with shining stars like various gems. A golden crown of beamy fire mingled with the waving of air, and the countenance ex- pressed more than mortal beauty and benignity. Almira was entranced with astonishment and de- light. Under this angelic figuration it was some time before she recollected the features of her re- cent friend : but how much more lovely were they tinctured with all the nobility of celestial perfec- tion. She gazed upon her without the power of uUerance, and a tear of delight swam in her eye. Saphira motioned with her hand.—" My friend," s-.id she, with a smiling countenance, '* s'.irh as I am, you will quickly l)e. Prepare, THREE SPANIARDS. 19& Almira, nine days and you will go hence." She waved her hand in token of friendship, and smil- ing, gradually faded from sight. The music float- ed in the air, the celestial radiance mingled with the darkness, and in a few minutes the lamp again burnt bright, and the soimds were wholly lost to th« ear. " Do I dream," said Almira to herself, " or is this vision reaH Can it be true that disembodied spirits are ever permitted to appear as a consola- tion, or warning to their friends; but to me! How unworthy am I of so high honor." The solemn mandate which had accompanied this appearance impressed her mind with belief, and she shudder- ed to think that with all her imperfections unre- pented, and her wishes unweaned, she should so soon be summoned from the things of life. She had already been near three months in the convent, months which had passed away with the tedium of years. She received no letters from her sister, nor any visits from her father: and indeed she was ignorant whether he had returned to the castle, or whether he remained in Madrid. The more Almira mused upon the prediction of her fate, the less able was she to determine upon its import. The shortness of the time appeared to her to preclude accident, or the decay of her health. What accident indeed could happen to her within impenetrable walls. She was some- times ready to interpret in a literal sense the words — You will go hence: but it was beyond her hope iluit she should be freed from the convent. She forbore mentioning to Valedia the singular appear- ance she had witnepsed. The conversation of Valedia was happily adapt- ed to relieve the mind from sadness. It was by turns lively or serious, and formed itself to the tlisposition of the hour. Her attachment to Almi- ra seemed every moment to increase, and she fre- (juenily hinted a wish of mutual confidence. •♦ Is not mine," said ehe the second evening af- 200 THREE SPANIARDS. ter the funeral of Saphira, "a singular fatel You will wonder wlien I tell you this place is at once my aversion and my choice." *' That is singular," replied Almira; "to me it appeared at first as a prison, but custom has so far reconciled me, that I find it possible to live. My thoughts it is true, perpetually recur to my sister Virginia, and the gay liberties of my early youth, iiut why, my dear, sliould you make this place your choice if you were free to will otherwise!" " Do you know I am an impostor," said Vale- dici with a smile: I have pretended ignorance to you, but I am well acquainted with your connec- tions from the mouth of my cousin -Antonio de los Velos. You start, my dear, but be assured I am not dangerous. I know also the Marquis de De- nia, and the adventure which introduced him to your acquaintance." Almira, with a hesitating voice, inquired if she knew also the Marquis's friend, Fernando de Co- ellol" Valedia sighed deeply, and gazed upon Almira with an earnestness which seemed to seek into her thoughts. " Yes, Almira," said she, " I think — I know 1 may trust you. Without confidence, there can be no friendship; and though a lover will di- vide the greatest attachments, yet when that lover is no more, the knowledge of a mutual admiration only cements affection." " You speak to me in enigmas," said Almira. *' Then I will explain myself," returned Vale- dia, gently laying her hand upon Almira's arm. " You have been in love, my dear, so have I ; but the object of our choice is for ever lost to us both, and I have here resolved to mourn away my days." " Is Fernando deadl" murmured Almira : then breaking into tears they sunk for some time into each other's arms. " If he is dead," said Almira, recovering, " I have no longer reason to desire to live: I will take the vows with you." " Not so," replied Valediu. ♦' You have many THREE SPANIARDS. 201 reasons to desire a Dette<^ fortune. The Marquis de los Velos is deeply in love with you. He is an elegant and accomplished nobleman, and such as few of our sex would refuse. I know, Almira, that your love oi Fernando can be little more than inclination cherished by solitude and thinking constantly on one object. He was in your compa- ny but very few days, while with me he passed the years of his youth. The father of Antonio was his guardian after the death of his own parents, and I may say I loved hira from the earliest hour of my memory. To an impartial eye de los Velos is pre- ferable: and when you remember he will liberate you from this prison, place you in the most ele- gant circles of Madrid, and render you mistress of his actions, you will be either less or more than woman to refuse him." " Were such an offer made to you, would you accept itl" said Almira. " 1 think that I would under the same circum- stances," answered Valedia. " But, my dear," returned Almira, wiping the tears from her eyes, " the duty I owe to my father is sacredj were I to tiy from this place without his consent, I should fear some terrible judgment would overtake me." ** I see," said Valedia with a smile, " you are already initiated into the superstitions of this place: but ask yourself if there are no bounds to this au- thority you dread 1 Can a parent have a right to imprison or to destroy their offspring from wanton whim or caprice'? Surely no: and as surely it is a duty incumbent on yourself to fly such abuse of power." Discourses like the^e, on repetition, gained up- on the mind of Almira, which was naturally in- clined to pleasure, though her late connection with Saphira, had much decreased the desires of her heart. Valexlia was artful, though virtuous. She had a wish to serve her cousin Antonio, and a la- tent desire of .-^upjit-c.^sing a rival, should Fernan- 202 THREE SPANIARDS.; do ever return, which she herself distantly hoped. She painted to Almira all the gay scenes of life in which she had herself figured, and suggested so many schemes of happiness within her grasp, that Almira again began to repine at solitude, and to reflect upon the offers of Antonio. On the following day Valedia was called to the grate, a privilege Almira was wholly denied. In about half an hour she returned, with a letter in her bosom, which she presented to Almira, saying with a smile — " It was Antonio, as I suspected. It was with difficulty I took charge of this billet : I must never have gone to the grate again. I was afraid she would think my cousin was making love to me, he spoke so earnest and so tenderly. Seri- ously, my friend, if you reject him, I shall not think you a woman." *' But how can 1 accept the hand of a man, for whom I have no higher regard than esteem," said Almira, looking at the seal on the letter. •' That is his business," replied Valedia, laugh- ing ; break that charm, and read the contents of tlie magic scroll." The letter breathed the most ardent sentiments of love, and earnestly pressed for a favorable re- ply, in the name of her sister and the Marquis of Deiiia. He said many things to assure her he re- quired no more than the strictest duty might ap- prove, and strongly contrasted the prospects of fe- licity they might enjoy with the cold and barren employments of a monastery, to which her father condemned her for life. These arguments could not but fall with weight upon Almira. She reflected that her cousin had never returned her attentions; he was now lost ior ever; and she hesitated about the answer she should return. "Let it be a consenting negative," tiaid Valedia. " If he should change his mind and fancy me, it would then be too late for you to re- pent." THREE SPANIARDS. 203 ** I should witness that event with pleasure," replied Almira. *' If you have any wish, I will give him a final denial; for to tell you the inmost feelings of my heart, I find a sort of lingering de- sire after gayer scenes and worldly pleasures, yet so mingled with indifference, that I compel my- self, reluctantly to accept them. I am unable to express the compound sensations that I feel ; sopie- thing seems to hang upon my spirits, as if I was not my own agent ; and I may compare myself to a vessel in a stream, without a rudder, sail, or oar, which, with the returning tide, feels an equal im- pulse, and follows at last the most powerful exter- nal force." *' You draw your distinctions too finely to be very happy," said Valedia. " In this life, we ought never to feel too acutely either pleasures or pain ; and yet for myself, I never could arrive at the dull medium so necessary if we would glide easily through the world; and we are now grow- ing melancholy, when our prospects are brighter we will plan an answer to this letter, and trust the event to that superior power which controls all things." End of Vol. I. i UNIVERSmr OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 3 0112 056523423 ■'^■. "*^