Enrique felt as if the weight bowed him tothe earth.
The time for parting came, and the two brothers were alone. It mightseem but a formal parting for a short time, but upon them both lay theweight of a conviction which each was too tender to the other to putinto words. But the sympathy between them was too deep and keen for anydoubt as to the other's opinion. Fernando laid his hands on Enrique'sshoulders and looked full into his face.
"You are my other self, and you know my heart by your own," he said."Courage! for we shall not part for ever."
Enrique dared not give way. He took Fernando's hand, and together theywent out to the front of the tent--the last one remaining of the littlecamp--where Enrique's suite were ready mounted on the one side, and theescort of Moors awaited Fernando on the other.
The brothers embraced each other in silence; Fernando mounted his horseand bowed to the knights and nobles standing round. In the light of thesummer morning, with the new sun shining on the red cross on his breastand on his steadfast, smiling eyes, Enrique beheld him; then, mountinghis horse, he rode away, and left this well-beloved brother behind.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN.
A BURNING QUESTION.
"To do a great right, do a little wrong."
The ill-fated expedition had not long set sail before the kingdiscovered its insufficient numbers, and in all haste he ordered DomJoao to equip himself and follow his brothers to Ceuta. Joao, to do himjustice, was perfectly ready to do so, and in a very short time set sailwith a fair number of troops, hoping to join them before they couldleave Ceuta, and, had they waited for a reinforcement, all might havebeen well.
He had not calculated on their over-haste. The vessel bearing the fatalnews crossed him on the way; and when he arrived at Ceuta he was greetedwith the story of the defeat of the army, of the detention of Fernando,and of the serious illness of Enrique, who, completely overcome bymortification and anguish of heart, had fainted on reaching his ship,and had been carried on shore at Ceuta, unable to exert himself further.All was in confusion; but Dom Joao wasted no time in reproaches orregrets; but after giving a few necessary orders, and encouraging thetroops to look for better times, he went at once to his brother'slodging.
Enrique was recovering a little from the violence of the fever that hadseized on him, and was dressed and lying on a couch; but when he saw hisbrother he rose up, weak as he was, and threw himself on his kneesbefore him, covering his face.
"Alas, my brother! how can I look on you?" he cried. "I have been theworst enemy of my country and of the Church and of my most dearbrothers!"
"It has all gone very ill," said Joao. "We must seek for a remedy.Rise up, my brother; you shame me. This from you to me!"
"Ah, could I but find a harder penance!" sighed Enrique; but he allowedJoao to help him back to his couch, and began to tell him how it had allchanced, and to ask what had brought him there in such good time.
"Duarte has troubled much about Fernando," said Joao; "how was it withhim when you left him?"
But the attempt to speak of Fernando threw Enrique into such an agony ofweeping that Joao was obliged to cease questioning him, beginning toperceive how terrible must have been the experience that had thusprostrated one of such resolute will and power of endurance.
"Courage!" he said; "a better day must dawn. Fernando will soon berestored to us; and though we yield Ceuta nominally, it shall go hardbut we will soon win it back again. For that object a war will cause nodifference of opinion."
Enrique made no answer. He lay silent for some moments, then turned andlooked up at his brother. "We were eating our horses before we yielded,and there was no water, and no hope. That must soon have killed him andall the poor fellows whom we have led to ruin."
"You would have been fools to hold out," said Joao, bluntly. "But whatis to be done now? Here am I, with six thousand at my back--"
"Here? Fresh troops?" cried Enrique, starting into animation. "Thenwhat is to hinder one more effort? Let us go back to Tangier, and winit, or die!"
"But the treaty?" said Joao.
"The treaty! That does but hold Fernando fast. We gave no pledge notto continue the war on another footing. And they harassed our rearenough as we retreated to show how far they care to keep their word. Iam another man, now you give me hope."
Joao was not altogether averse to the proposal, and Enrique, withreviving spirits, recovered his natural ascendency; and arrangementswere made for Joao to return home with the sick and wounded, whileEnrique, with the fresh troops, marched again on Tangier. No secondbrother, he said, should be thus risked. His first care, however, wasto put Ceuta into a complete state of defence; and while he was thusengaged came first the news that the fleet which he had sent homeimmediately after the retreat from Tangier had met with a violent stormand been wrecked on the coast of Andalusia, where the Castilians hadshowed great kindness to the distressed sailors. Next arrived aperemptory despatch from the king, ordering both his brothers to returnat once, and to make no further effort to continue the war for thepresent. Enrique was bitterly disappointed, though he felt that hecould not wonder at the king's doubt of his judgment.
"I cannot look him in the face," he said; "I cannot see his grief. Goyou to Lisbon, and I will hide myself in Sagres, and pray for pardon."
The king convoked the States-General of Portugal, and a great councilwas held to decide on the next step. The Pope was again written to forhis opinion, and the discussion began with all the ardour and heatattending a question where good men see, strongly, different sides ofthe right. For Duarte himself it was a time of agonising doubt. Hispeculiar tenderness for Fernando made the thought of his loneliness andsuffering, of his possible hardships and of the loss of his dailypresence, haunt him by night and day. Every feeling of his heart urgedhim to give up the city and win this beloved brother back. But then, helooked on himself but as the steward who must give an account of hiskingdom. Ceuta, Portugal itself, were not his to yield. What right hadhe to give back one acre of Christian land to the realm of darkness--tolet the consecrated soil be profaned once more by the accursed faith ofMahomet? What life, what love, was too precious to be sacrificed tosave the souls of the Christians of Ceuta? This was one side of thequestion; and perhaps it is hardly possible in these days to realise howpowerful this obligation seemed to such a prince as Duarte. On theother hand, it was urged that it was a foul shame to grudge anyfortress, however valuable, for the life of a prince of Portugal, whohad voluntarily offered himself, trusting in the honour of his country,and also that, after all, they had given their word to cede Ceuta, andwere bound to redeem it, even to an infidel power. These were thenobler views on either side. Of course the party who contended for theretention of Ceuta contained many who cared nothing for the religiousquestion, but who declared openly that the great sea-port was worth farmore to the state than the precarious life of a prince who had neverbeen able to make himself prominent or useful, while many of those whowished to yield it cared little for Fernando, and less for the pledge,but were only anxious to avoid the expense of a war.
But between the right on either side Duarte's scrupulous consciencewavered with agonising uncertainty; though with his deep love for hisbrother, and his instinctive preference for the simpler, more immediateduty, he inclined somewhat to the view of yielding the city. Pedro andJoao spoke in the council with no uncertain sound. A treaty should bekept, they said, and their dear brother's life saved at all costs. Nosacrifice could be too great to make. Then let them go to war withevery resource at their command, and win Ceuta back, and Tangier, too.Their words had great weight; but the Archbishop of Braga, a powerfulecclesiastic, spoke on the other side, all the other bishops agreeingwith him, declaring that one man's life must not be considered incomparison with a whole city.
The Pope's letter came in support of this view. The war had beenundertaken in defiance of his wishes, and had led to an unhappy result.Certainly, Christian land must not be given up to an infidel power; buthe offered th
e much-desired full of Crusade, and recommended Duarte togo to war to deliver his brother. All this time Enrique had remained atSagres and made no sign, only trusting that the matter might be settledwithout his intervention. But now, Duarte wrote, summoning him toLisbon, assuring him of his forgiveness and affection, and desiring tohear his view of the question.
The time had gone by for the wild anguish with which Enrique had metJoao; but when he came into Duarte's presence, and kissed his hand, tenyears might have passed over the heads of them both since they parted.Duarte's gentle cheerfulness had faded, and all the fire had gone out ofEnrique's great grey eyes, and his manner was subdued and spiritless.
Duarte made him sit beside him, and for a long time they were silent,holding each other by the hand. Then Enrique said--
"My brother, you can forgive?"
"We suffer together," said Duarte. "Enrique, you know what our brotherssay in this matter, and the contrary opinion of the Pope. How does yourconscience speak?"
Enrique's strong frame shook, as he answered--
"Were I the hostage, I could not so buy my freedom. Would that I were!"
Then Duarte took a letter from his bosom and put it into Enrique's hand.It contained a few lines from Fernando, speaking of his good health andkindly treatment, and begging for Duarte's forgiveness for the rashnessthat had risked so much. He sent messages of love to all his brothers,especially to Enrique, "who granted me my heart's wish at the cost ofhis own judgment." There was no single word as to his own return, or asto the cession of Ceuta, and Duarte said--
"This most precious letter was doubtless read by his jailor before hewas permitted to send it, so that he could not freely speak his mind, tous."
Enrique kissed the letter, he seemed unable to speak, and Duarte said--
"I sent for you, since you and he were ever as one, so that your mind onthis matter will be his."
"So he said."
"Yes, you wrote me his words," said Duarte.
There was long silence, and at last the King spoke again.
"Grieve not so terribly, my brother, speak as your conscience urges.Alike we love him."
"Alas, yes! Duarte, his one wish was to see those cities Christian.For that he longed to die. I _know_, he meant that you should hold fastby Ceuta. And we were bound to that service. Had he died by a Moslemsword, we must have given thanks for a blessed end. My life--_his_ lifemust not be weighed in the balance with Christian souls. Remember ourknighthood. We shame him, if for his sake we tear down the Cross ourfather raised, and see the Crescent glittering again on the cathedral ofCeuta. We dare not put our brethren before our God."
Enrique's faltering voice strengthened, and the colour came back intohis face as he spoke. The terrible anguish of this avowal had beenfaced and met; the bitter cross which he had helped to fashion taken onhis shoulders. It had cost many a long hour of prayer and fastingbefore he had brought himself to the point of declaring the view thathis inmost conscience had all along suggested, and even now he imploredDuarte to spare him from the necessity of speaking of it in the council.He could not change his mind; but if the States-General, if Duartethought otherwise--
"This was for me only," said Duarte. "No one shall question you. Alas!your silence might have told me your conviction. I seem to hear himspeak through your lips."
Pedro was less considerate than Duarte. He was indeed too generous toutter a word of reproach to Enrique for his former disregard of hisopinion, and when, coming in to seek Duarte, he saw his changed looks,he greeted him with the utmost kindness; but the substance of theconversation could not be concealed from him, and he said,sarcastically--
"Well, your conscience may be at ease. There are many in the councilbeside you and the Archbishop of Braga, who think our poor Fernando'slife worth less than a valuable fortress. He is sickly, they say, andof no use to the state, let him pine in exile, we will keep Ceuta safewhile we have it."
"Hush, my brother," said Duarte with his gentle authority. "Well youknow that taunt is out of place."
"I meant no taunt," said Pedro; "but it was one thing for Fernando todream of crusading lying here on his couch, or even to lead an army tothe attack, and quite another for him to suffer all the contumely whichMoorish cruelty and spite can suggest, if we do not hold to our side ofthe bargain."
"You speak as if we would leave him in their hands without an effort,"said Duarte. "But, come, the Queen waits for supper for us. MyEnrique, you will be a welcome guest."
Enrique would fain have been spared the supper, though of course no onebut his brothers had a right to question him on his views; but he knewthat it was best that he and the King should be seen together, and cameto the table, though he looked so white and sad that the Queen ralliedhim on his unsocial air.
Leonor disliked depression and dull times, and did not see why thecession of Ceuta should be made a burning question. Dom Pedro, on theother hand, disliked the Queen's frivolity, so he turned to Enrique andengaged him in a discussion of the latest calculations, by which hisstudy of the stars was being reduced to a science useful to mariners;and that congenial topic brought a little brightness to Enrique'smournful face, for he and Pedro differed on some nice point, and indiscussing it forgot for a brief moment the dreadful difference thatreally lay between them. But the responsibility that rested on hisshoulders never passed from the King's mind. Others thought, argued,believed, but in the long run he must act.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
OLD FRIENDS.
"But the blue fearless eyes in her fair face, And her frank voice, showed her of English race."
In the midst of all this turmoil and excitement Eleanor Northberry cameback to Portugal. Suitable escorts were so rare that, one havingoffered itself, she was sent back without previous notice, and arrivedjust as her father had recovered from the wound received before Tangier,and while the question of the cession of Ceuta was still before theStates-General.
She had grown into a most beautiful maiden, tall and straight, light offoot, and slender of limb, with a clear voice that spoke her mindwithout fear or favour; blue eyes, clear and bright as the morning; anda skin fair and rosy, such as had not been seen in Lisbon since theyoung days of Philippa of Lancaster. The arrival of the English beautywas like a ray of sunlight in the gloom of that time of suspense andsorrow; and to Harry Hartsed it dispersed the clouds altogether; for shegreeted him heartily as fellow-countryman and friend. He lived, too,with Sir Walter Northberry since the break-up of Dom Fernando'shousehold, so that they had many opportunities of intercourse, and Harrywas envied, especially by Alvarez, who fell a victim to this new andlovely creature the first time that he beheld her.
Young hearts will be gay, and young lips will laugh, happily for theworld, even in sad times; and Harry and Nella, a few days after herreturn were enjoying a lively chat over their old recollections ofpleasant Northberry.
"This central court, with its fountain, and those tall orange-trees, andthe couch on which my father sits, is almost the only thing I canremember well. We stood there under the trees, I and Catalina, and theprince sat here, by my father, and gave us the little crosses, on theday we sailed."
"Alas!" said Harry; "when shall we see our beloved prince again?"
Nella did not know much of the matter in dispute, and decidedly inclinedto the view of rescuing the good prince at all cost. She looked solemnfor a moment, and then said,--
"Ah! there is no witch here to tell us what he is doing."
"Do you believe in the witch still, Mistress Nell?" said Harry, slyly.
"No, sir; not since I went down to help my aunt give out the dole oneday, and saw her eyes look out under old Goody Martin's hood. Doubtlessshe knew us all well, having been at the manor every week. Oh, you neednot laugh; when I change my mind, I say so."
"I wish there was another witch near Lisbon, whom you longed secretly toconsult about your sister," said Harry in an insinuating tone.
"Sir, when I wandered in the woo
ds by moonlight, I was a silly littlegirl; now I am a woman, and wiser. Alack! I think I miss the dogs andthe fresh breeze, and I know I miss my dear aunt and uncle. This oldhome is very new. I halt and stammer when my father speaks Portuguese.I am altogether an English girl."
"There is no speech like English," said Harry; "I love it best."
"Oh, you have grown to look quite like a foreigner," said Nella,saucily. "I am but a country maid, and your court is too solemn forme." There was an indescribably joyous sweetness in Nella's voice andmanner that took from her gay retorts anything of boldness.
"See, Harry," she continued. "To-morrow I am to be presented to thequeen; I practise my reverence every day."
She came up to him as she spoke, making a low, sweeping curtsey.
"Rise, fair Senorita," said Harry; "our poor court is honoured by such aguest."
"Now--now, I know you are no longer an Englishman!" cried Nella. "Thatspeech was never learned in Devon!"
"Like a Portuguese, madam, I can talk; but I mean what I say like a trueson of Devon."
"I cannot believe in such perfection. You were never one to belieyourself with over-diffidence."
"I leave that to my betters," said Harry, with a bow.
"Oh, saucy boy!" cried Nella, laughing, then paused suddenly, as thegates were thrown back without, and her father entered, cap in hand,escorting an exceedingly tall and stately personage, with a sad butkindly face. Behind him came Alvarez; and the whole scene brought
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