CHAPTER XVII
A GRAVE IRREGULARITY
The day wore in the mill-house of Sarria precisely as many thousands ofdays had done before. The foreman came for the keys from his master'sbedroom at six of the clock. He wondered at the unwonted sight of hispatron up and fully dressed at that hour, and still more at the tallyoung foreigner who sat with his book so studiously silent at the tableopposite his master. The old gipsy woman Elvira, too, was gone andanother in her place. But after all it was none of his business, and themill must go on. For the dam had filled up and there was much corn togrind. Old withered Elisa, the goatherd "patrona," led her tinklingflock past the door a score of yards and then returned with her pail aswas her wont. She saw Senor Fernandez at his window, and he made astrange appealing motion with his hands to her, then glanced over hisshoulder.
Perhaps (so she thought) the poor man had taken to drinking at night asthat wicked brother of his used to do down at the _venta_. But the truenature of the Senor's complaint did not dawn upon her till later.
From nine till half-past eleven none outside of the mill-house saw SenorLuis. The stranger also was absent upon his occasions, and the doctor,coming early to see his patient, found only the gipsy woman, who did notappear to have understood the directions he had given her the daybefore. The Senor himself was out of the way, but the doctor, glad tofind his patient so quiescent and apparently in such good condition,soon took his leave, and in the mill-house La Giralda ruled alone.
* * * * *
With Rollo now for a time the tale runs more briskly. He set off for the_venta_, where he found Etienne and John Mortimer sitting at meat.Etienne was breaking his fast sparely upon a cup of chocolate and aglass of water, while John Mortimer had by hook or crook evolvedsomething resembling a frying-pan, in which he had achieved the cookingof some bacon and eggs together with a couple of mutton chops. He wasbrowning some bread before the fire to serve for English toast as Rolloentered, looking as fresh as if he had been newly roused from a twelvehour's sleep.
"Good morning, friends of mine," he cried; "you are in excellent case, Isee. John, I have made arrangements for you to go and visit somevineyards to-day. Old Gaspar will guide you with his gun over hisvaliant shoulder. You can pick up points about wine-buying, withoutdoubt. As to you, Etienne, _mon vieux_, I have found your Concha, and Iam going to see her myself in half an hour. Shall I give her your love?"
"What!" cried Saint Pierre; "you jest. It cannot be my cruel, cruellittle Conchita, she who fled from me and would not take the smallestnotice of all my letters and messages? Where is she?"
"She is at the nunnery of the Sisters of Mercy outside the village.Poor Etienne! I am indeed sorry for you. With your religious views, itwill be impossible for you to make love to a nun!"
"Would I not?" cried Etienne, eagerly; "_mon Dieu_, only procure me achance, and I will let you see! But a nunnery is a hard nut to crack.How do you propose to manage it?"
"I intend to make friends with the Lady Superior," said Rollo,confidently.
"You have a letter of introduction to her, doubtless?" said Etienne.
"I do not at present even know her name; but all in good time!" said theyouth, coolly.
"For stark assurance commend me to a Scot," cried Etienne, withenthusiasm. "You take to adventure as if it were chess. We poor Frenchtake the most ordinary affairs as if they were dram-drinking, and so areold and _ennuyes_ at thirty."
"And the English?" asked Rollo.
"Oh," laughed Etienne, "the English take to adventure as our friendthere takes to his breakfast, and that perhaps is the best way of all."
He pointed with a smile to where, at the table's end, John Mortimer ofChorley, having made all preparations with the utmost seriousness forhis repast, was on the point of turning on the operating mill. The cookof the _venta_, who had been much interested in John's culinaryoperations, had come up to see how he would deal with the result whencompleted.
John had brewed himself some tea from a small parcel he carried in hissaddle-bags. This, made in a coffee-pot, was arranged at a certaindistance from his dexter elbow. The bacon and eggs were on a platterexactly in front, flanked on the left by the smoking mutton chops,while the toast was stuck erect in an empty cruet-stand. In fact aChorley breakfast-table was reproduced as exactly as circumstances wouldadmit.
Then John Mortimer bent his head a moment over his plate, murmuredsomething in memory of his father, the Primitive Methodist, in lieu of ablessing, said "Hem" in a loud gruff tone, hitched his chair forward alittle, squared his shoulders, and fell to.
"That is why we French have no colonies!" said Etienne, admiringly. "Inthis little Spanish village he has found all the materials of an Englishbreakfast."
"And that is why _I_ shall never make any money," said Rollo, andproceeded to break his fast on a couple of eggs dropped into white wine,before setting out for the convent.
"Etienne," said Rollo, suddenly checking his glass in mid-air as an ideaoccurred to him, "lend me that ring of your sainted uncle's, the onewith the picture of Don Carlos."
The young Frenchman indolently drew it from his hand, laid it on thepolished marble top of the table, and with his forefinger flipped itacross to Rollo.
"Who is the girl?" he said simply.
But Rollo with equal simplicity ignored his question, and did not evenpause to thank him for the loan. It was a way these young men had withone another. Like the early Christians, they had all things in common.It was their single point of resemblance to the primitive Church.
"What shall I say to your Concha--that is, if I chance to see her?" saidRollo, as he brushed his clothes and saw to the neatness of his neckribbon.
Etienne held down his head.
"Indeed," he said a little reluctantly, "I am not so anxious that youshould say anything at all about me. The little minx did not treat me sovery well when I came this way on my last visit to my uncle. And to tellthe truth, there is an exceedingly pretty girl living only three doorsfrom the _venta_. I have already spoken to her, and she has smiled at methrice over the fence."
"Take my advice, and stick to the little Andaluse," said Rollo,laughing. "They do not understand that kind of thing here, dear Etienne.Remember Master Rafael, who got a knife somewhere between hisshoulder-blades in this same village."
"I shall bear in mind what you say, my good Rollo," said Etienne;"meantime I shall dress myself afresh and walk in the gardens. They are,as it seems to me, contiguous. Perhaps it may chance that I shallsee--_her_!"
"That leaves me a freer hand with Concha, then," murmured Rollo tohimself, as he stuck his hat on the back of his head, and strode outinto the stable yard smiling to himself.
He had his horse brought out and saddled. Then he mounted and rode downthe village street towards the convent of the pious Sisters of Mercy.The plan he meant to adopt had entered his mind, as it were, with theeggs and white wine. He had not given the matter a thought before. Hesmiled to himself as he rode, for he wondered how he would succeed withthis good Mother Superior, and what manner of girl he would find thatwicked, tricksome Concha to be, whose name was in all men's mouths witha certain approving flavour, as of a pleasant naughtiness to bealternately scolded and cajoled. One thing this Master Rollo was as sureof as that he was a Scot. And that was--he never could, would, or shouldfall in love with such a girl.
So Rollo rode with a clatter of spurs and accoutrement up to the gate ofthe convent. Dismounting, he advanced briskly to the gate and knockedloudly upon it with his riding-whip.
In a few moments a sour-faced portress opened the little square wicketand looked through at him. The diamond-shaped lattice bars, which cuther features into minute lozenges, did not improve her good looks.
"I must see the Mother Superior immediately on important business!"quoth the brisk youth, slapping his waistcoat and settling the hilt ofhis sword in a businesslike manner, as if he had all his life been inthe habit of making early morning calls upon Mothers Superior.
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The portress laughed.
"A likely story," she said, "that I am to trail across the yard andleave my business here, to fetch the Lady Superior from her devotions tosee a young man at the outer gate."
"If you do not admit me," Rollo went on, unabashed, "not only the LadySuperior will suffer, but the cause which all good Christians have atheart."
He suddenly thrust his bare hand close to the wicket and showed the ringwhich Etienne had given him.
"Do you know this?" he said.
At his first threatening motion the woman had mechanically withdrawn,but now curiosity brought her again closer to the grating, onperceiving that Rollo made no attempt to intrude his hand within.
"These are the royal arms of Spain, are they not?" she said, and droppedan involuntary curtsy.
Then Rollo played his trump card. The ring was made with a certainsecret spring beneath the stone, which when touched sprang up like thelid of a box, and a beautiful little miniature was revealed, encircledwith hair of a dark brown colour.
"Do you know who that is?" he said.
"His absolute Majesty Carlos Quinto!" said the portress with a deepreverence.
"Well, then," Rollo went on, "take this ring, and with it the hair ofthe anointed and Christian King. It is a great trust, but I give it intoyour hands. Carry it reverently as a token to the Lady Superior that amessenger from the King waits to speak a word with her!"
The head of the portress disappeared from the young man's sight with theprofundity and compass of the reverence with which she received theimage of the sovereign of all true Catholic hearts. She went offimmediately, and by standing on tiptoe in the white dust, Rollo couldsee her heavy black skirts playing bo-peep with a pair of very thickankles.
As the young man stood drumming his fingers upon the window-sill, withhis nail he detached flake after flake of plaster, and filliped each asit fell into the courtyard. He had only occupied himself with thisamusement for five minutes, when suddenly the most piquant face in theworld appeared at the wicket.
"Better that you should look to your horse," a pair of red lips said inthe soft Southland speech of Andalucia, "he is chafing himself to pieceson a too tight curb!"
"Thank you, Senorita!" said Rollo, his heart instantly disturbed withinhim, for he was a merciful man by nature and consistently kind to hisbeast. Then he turned about, loosened the curb, and, looking over hishorse, noticed that the tail strap also lathered the animal, whereuponhe eased that. Then with a smiling countenance he turned for approval tothe face at the wicket, but he was too late. His mentor had vanished.
He waited full ten minutes in the glaring sunshine, till indeed hewell-nigh staggered as he felt the hot beams reflected full upon himfrom the whitewashed brick and painted door. There was not a handbreadthof shade anywhere, and the iron handles and girds of the barred windowswere nearly red-hot.
Presently, however, through the breathless noonday he heard heavyfootsteps approaching, accompanied by a most raucous and asthmaticalbreathing. The door of the porter's lodge was opened, and he caughtagain the heavy rustle of cloth clogging itself about unwontedly hastyankles.
"The Mother Superior waits!" gasped the portress, opening the great doorsuddenly, and the young man found himself forthwith within the Conventof the Holy Innocents.
The Lady Superior proved to be a woman of about fifty-five or sixtyyears of age, in person stout and rubicund, a smile of good humourhabitually repressed upon her lips, and a mouth slightly pulled down atthe corners, contradicting the first impression of her jovialcountenance.
"You are young, Colonel," she said, frowning upon Rollo's good lookswith a certain affectation of gloom quite foreign to her nature, "veryyoung to be the messenger of a King!"
"I can, indeed, hardly claim that honour," said Rollo, smiling andbowing, "but I have the honour to belong to the army of Carlos Quinto,and to be entrusted with a most serious mission on his behalf. My goodfriend Don Baltasar Varela, Prior of the Abbey of Montblanch, a nameprobably known to you----"
"He is my cousin germane--my good and honoured friend," said the LadySuperior.
Rollo bowed.
"He has given me a general introduction to all religious houses wherethe name of the true King is held in reverence. You will observe thatthe mandate bears the seal of the Propaganda of the Faith and is datedfrom Rome itself!"
The Lady Superior looked again at the great and pious names upon Rollo'scommission, and marvelled yet more.
"So young," she said, "so boyish almost--yet so highly honoured! It iswonderful!"
Then she handed the parchment back to him.
"How can I assist you?" she said. "Command me. There is nothingconsistent with the order and discipline of this house that I will notgrant to you!"
Rollo bowed grandly.
"I thank you in the name of my master," he said; "the King will notforget fitly to reward his faithful servants. I ask what is indeedsomewhat irregular, but is nevertheless necessary. There is a man ofthis place, who for the King's cause has become an outlaw, one RamonGarcia----"
The Prioress rose from her seat indignantly.
"He is a murderer--in intent, if not in act," she said. "He is no trueman, but a villain----"
"Many men have been called so," said Rollo, gravely, "who for the King'ssake have borne reproach gladly--of whom this Ramon, called El Sarria,is one. What he has done has been by order of our Don Carlos----"
"Indeed, that is true, my lady," interjected a very pretty andunconventual young person, rising suddenly from behind certain frames ofembroidery where she had been at work unseen, "the gentleman refers tothat same Ramon Garcia, whose letters recommendatory I had the honour ofsubmitting to you this morning. To kill in the King's name is surely nosin, else were soldiering a sin, and your reverend worthiness knowsthat, shriven or unshriven, the soldiers of Carlos Quinto go straight toheaven. And none can deny that, while on earth, a handsome uniformcovers a multitude of sins!"
"Hush, child, hush!" cried the Abbess, holding up her hands in horror;"your talk savours of the world. And indeed, that reminds me--how in theworld came you here?"
"I was seated at the embroidery," said the girl, demurely; "you set methe task yourself to be ready for our Lady of the Pillar's festival onTuesday next."
"Well, child, well--you can go now," said the Abbess, with a nod ofdismission; "I would speak with this young man alone!"
The girl cast a look at Rollo which remained with him long. It seemed tosay, "I would gladly talk more with you, for your person is somewhat tomy mind, and I do not think that further converse with me would proveentirely disagreeable to you!"
This message was conveyed in a single glance, and Rollo, not the mostimpressionable of youths, read it every syllable without the slightestdifficulty.
He held up his hand almost involuntarily.
"If this damosel is by any chance the Senorita Concha Cabezos, as I havesome reason to suppose, though I have never before seen the young lady,it might be advantageous if she remained. She was formerly, as I aminformed, in the family of Don Ramon Garcia, and can assist my missionvery materially."
Then Rollo opened out his plans in so far as they concerned Dolores,showing the Prioress how important it was, for the success of thearduous mission on which they had been despatched, that El Sarria shouldleave no anxieties behind him, and beseeching her for the sake of theKing's cause, to receive Dolores within the convent as she had alreadyreceived her child.
The Prioress considered a while, and after many dubious shakings of thehead, finally agreed.
"It is indeed gravely irregular," she said, "but in these untowardcircumstances the King's service overrides all. I will receive DoloresGarcia."
"And if it be your will I will arrange the details with the SenoritaConcha," said Rollo, promptly. "I need not, in that case, further detainthe noble and reverend Prioress!"
The Lady Superior bent a quick sharp look upon the pair, but Rollo wasgrave and high of demeanour as became the envoy of a K
ing, while Conchasat at her embroidery as demure as a mouse. She had gone back to herframe and was engaged in elaborating the wings of a cherub ofexceedingly celestial aspect, in whom all the parts below theshoulder-blades had been suppressed by order of the Lady Superior ofthe Convent of the Holy Innocents.
"You will do your best, Concha," she said gravely, admonishing thatmaiden with her forefinger, "to further the objects of this young man.And, above all, be sure to show him the deference due to his rank andmission!"
"Yes, my Lady Superior!" said little Concha Cabezos, "I will treat himas if he were the King's own high majesty in person!"
"A very proper spirit!" said the Prioress, nodding and going out;"cultivate it, my young friend!"
"I will!" said little Concha, and dropped a curtsey behind her back,which, alas! was not without a certain wicked suggestion of contempt forkings and dignitaries and their emissaries.
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