CHAPTER XLII
A SNARE NOT SPREAD IN VAIN
The town of Aranda lay to the left, perched high above them on theslopes of the Sierra de Moncayo. Rollo looked past the crumbling greyturrets of the little fortalice and over the juniper-and-thyme coveredfoot-hills to the red peaks of the Sierra. From the point at which theystood Moncayo fronted them like a lion surprised at the mouth of hislair, that raises his head haughtily to view the rash trespassers on hisdomain.
The lower slopes of the mountain were tawny-yellow, like the lion'sfell, but from the line at which the scant mane of rock-plants ceased,Moncayo shone red as blood in the level rays of the setting sun.
"There, there!" thought Rollo, "I have it almost in hand now. Beyondthat flank lie Vera and the headquarters of General Elio!"
They were riding easily, debouching slowly and in single file out of oneof the many defiles with which the country was cut up. The Sergeant andRollo were leading, when, as they issued out upon the opener country,suddenly they heard themselves called upon peremptorily to halt, at theperil of their lives.
"Whom have we here? Ah, our highly certificated Englishman! And in hiscompany--whom?"
The speaker was a dark-haired man of active figure and low stature,whose eyes twinkled in his head. He was dressed in the full uniform of aCarlist general. About him rode a brilliant staff, and from behind everyrock and out of every deep gully-cleft protruded the muzzle of a rifle,with just one black eye peering along it from under the white Basque_boina_ or the red one of Navarre.
And for the third time Rollo Blair, out upon his adventures, had comeface to face with General Don Ramon Cabrera of Tortosa.
Yet it was with glad relief in his heart that Rollo instantly rode up toCabrera, and having saluted, thus began his report, "I have the honour,General, to report that I have been fortunate enough to induce herMajesty the Queen-Regent of Spain and her daughter the young QueenIsabel to place themselves under my protection. I am proceeding withthem to the headquarters of General Elio according to my instructions;and if it be at all convenient, I should be glad of an additionalescort, that I may be able to bring my charges safely within the linesof Vera!"
The brow of General Cabrera had been darkening during this speech, andat the close he burst out with an oath.
"I know no such person as the Queen-Regent of Spain. I have heard of acertain light-o'-love calling herself Maria Cristina, widow of the lateKing Fernando the Seventh. And if this be indeed the lady and her brat,we of the true opinion owe you, Don Rollo, a debt of gratitude whichshall not be easily repaid. For she and hers have troubled the peace ofthis country much and long. Of which now, by San Nicolas, there shall bea quick end!"
As he spoke he ran his eyes along the line to where Munoz rode behindhis mistress.
"And the tall gentleman with the polished whiskers? Who may he be?" hecried, a yet more venomous fire glittering in his eyes.
"That, General Cabrera," said Rollo, quietly, "is his Excellency theDuke of Rianzares."
"At last, _estanco_-keeper!" cried Cabrera, riding forward as if tostrike Munoz on the face. "I, Ramon Cabrera of Tortosa, have waited along time for this pleasure."
Munoz did not answer in words, but, as before, preserved hisimperturbable demeanour. His half contemptuous dignity of bearing, whichhad irritated even Rollo, seemed to have the power of exciting Cabrerato the point of fury.
"Colonel," he cried, "I relieve you of your charge. You have done well.I am the equal in rank of General Elio, and there is no need that youshould convoy this party to his camp. I will assume the fullcharge--yes, and responsibility. By the Holy St. Vincent, I promisedthem twenty for one when they slew my mother in the Square of theBarbican. But I knew not from how evil a vine-stock I should gather mysecond vintage. A poor commandant's wife from a petty Valentian fort wasthe best I could do for them at the time. But now--the mother of RamonCabrera shall be atoned for in such a fashion as shall make the worldsit dumb!"
While Cabrera was speaking Rollo grew slowly chill, and then ice-coldwith horror.
"Sir," he said, his voice suddenly hoarse and broken, "surely you do notrealise what you are saying. These ladies are under my protection. Theyhave committed themselves to my care under the most sacred and absolutepledges that their lives shall be respected. The same is the case withregard to Senor Munoz. It is absolutely necessary that I should placethem all under the care of General Elio as the personal representativeof the King!"
"I have already told you, sir," cried Cabrera, furiously, "that I am ofequal rank with any Elio or other general in the armies of Don Carlos.Have not I done more than any other? Was it not I who carried my commandto the gates of Madrid? Aye, and had I been left to myself, I shouldhave succeeded in cutting off that fox Mendizabal. Now, however, I amabsolutely independent, owing authority to no man, save to the Kingalone. It is mine to give or to withhold, to punish or to pardon.Therefore I, General Ramon Cabrera, having sworn publicly to avenge mymother, when, where, and how I can, solemnly declare that, as aretaliation, I will shoot these three prisoners to-morrow at sunrise,even as Nogueras, the representative of this woman who calls herselfQueen-Regent of Spain, shot down my innocent mother for the sole crimeof giving birth to an unworthy son! Take them away! I will hear nomore!"
* * * * *
Thus in a moment was Rollo toppled from the highest pinnacle ofhappiness, for such to a young man is the hope of immediate success. Hecursed the hour he had entered the bloodthirsty land of Spain. He cursedhis visit to the Abbey of Montblanch, and the day on which he accepted acommission from men without honour or humanity. He was indeed almost incase to do himself a hurt, and both Concha and the Sergeant watched himwith anxious solicitude during the remainder of the afternoon as hewandered disconsolately about the little camp, twirling his moustacheand clanking Killiecrankie at his heels with so fierce an air, that evenCabrera's officers, no laggards on the field of honour, kept prudentlyout of his way.
The royal party had been disposed in a small house, a mere summerresidence of some of the _bourgeois_ folk of Aranda, and there, by anunexpected act of grace and at the special supplication of the Sergeant,La Giralda had been permitted to wait upon them.
The beauty of Concha was not long in producing its usual effect upon theimpressionable sons of Navarre and Guipuzcoa. But the Sergeant, whose_prestige_ was unbounded, soon gave them to understand that the girl hadbetter be left to go her own way, having two such protectors as Rolloand El Sarria to fight her battles for her.
To the secret satisfaction of all the Sergeant did not resume his dutiesin the camp of Cabrera. The troop to which he belonged had been leftbehind to watch the movements of the enemy. For Cabrera had barelyescaped from a strong force under Espartero near the walls of Madriditself, by showing the cleanest of heels possible. Cardono, therefore,still attached himself unreproved to the party of Rollo, which camped alittle apart. A guard of picked men was, however, placed over thequarters of the royal family. This Cabrera saw to himself, and thensullenly withdrew into his tent for the night to drink _aguardiente_ byhimself, in gloomy converse with a heart into whose dark secrets at notime could any man enter. It is, indeed, the most charitablesupposition that at this period of his life Ramon Cabrera's love for amother most cruelly murdered had rendered him temporarily insane.
Deprived of La Giralda, and judging that Rollo was in no mood to bespoken with, Concha Cabezos took refuge in the society of El Sarria.That stalwart man of few words, though in the days of herlight-heartedness quite careless of her wiles, and, indeed, unconsciousof them, was in his way strongly attached to her. He loved the girl forthe sake of her devotion to Dolores, as well as because of the secretpreference which all grave and silent men have for the winsome and gay.
"This Butcher of Tortosa," she said in a low voice to Ramon Garcia,"will surely never do the thing he threatens. Not even a devil out ofhell could slay in cold blood not the Queen-Regent only, but also theinnocent little maid who never did any man
a wrong."
El Sarria looked keenly about him for possible listeners. Concha and hesat at some distance above the camp, and El Sarria was idly employed inbreaking off pieces of shaly rock and trying to hit a certain pinnacleof white quartz which made a prominent target a few yards beneath them.
"I think he will," said Ramon Garcia, slowly. "Cabrera is a sullen dogat all times, and the very devil in his cups. Besides, who am I to blamehim--is there not the matter of his mother? Had it been Dolores--well.For her sake I would have shot half a dozen royal families."
"The thing will break our Rollo's heart if it cannot be prevented,"sighed Concha, "for he hath taken it in his head that the Queen and herhusband trusted themselves to his word of honour."
Ramon Garcia shook his head sadly.
"Ah, 'tis his sacred thing, that honour of his--his image of the Virginwhich he carries about with him," he said. "And, indeed, El Sarria haslittle cause to complain, for had it not been for that same honour ofDon Rollo's, Dolores Garcia might at this moment have been in the handsof Luis Fernandez!"
"Aye, or dead, more like," said Concha; "she would never have lived inthe clutches of the evil-hearted! I know her better. But, Don Ramon,what can we, who owe him so much, do for our Don Rollo?"
"Why--what is there to do?" said Ramon, with a lift of his eyebrows."Here in the camp of Cabrera we are watched, followed, suspected. Do yousee that fellow yonder with the smartly set _boina_? He is a miller'sson from near Vitoria in Alava. Well, he hath been set to watch thatnone of us leave the camp unattended. I will wager that if you and Iwere to wander out fifty yards farther, yonder lad would be after us ina trice!"
"Ah!" said Concha, in a brown study. "Yes--he is not at all abad-looking boy, and thinks excessively well of himself--like someothers I could mention. Now, El Sarria, can you tell me in whichdirection lies Vera, the headquarters of General Elio?"
"That can I!" said El Sarria, forgetting his caution. And he was aboutto turn him about and point it out with his hand, when Concha stoppedhim.
"The miller's son is craning his neck to look," she whispered: "do notpoint. Turn about slowly, and the third stone you throw, let it be inthe direction of Vera!"
El Sarria did as he was bid, and after the third he continued to projectstones Vera-wards, explaining as he did so--"Up yonder reddish cleft theroad goes, a hound's path, a mere goat's slide, but it is the directestroad. There is open ground to the very foot of the ascent. Many is thetime I have ridden thither, God forgive me, on another man's beast! Thencast him loose and left him to find his way home as best he could. Thereare good hiding-places on the Sierra de Moncayo, up among the redsandstone where the caves are deep and dry, and with mouths so narrowand secret that they may be held by one man against fifty."
Concha did not appear to be greatly interested in El Sarria'sreminiscences. Even guileless Ramon could not but notice her wanderingglances. Her eyes, surveying the landscape, lighted continually upon thehandsome young Vitorian in the red _boina_, lifted again sharply, andsought the ground.
At this El Sarria sighed, and decided mentally that, with the exceptionof his Dolores, no woman was to be trusted. If not at heart a rake, shewas by nature a flirt. And so he was about to leave Concha to her owndevices and seek Rollo, when Concha suddenly spoke.
"Don Ramon," she said, "shall we walk a few hundred yards up themountain away from the camp and see if we are really being watched?"
El Sarria smiled grimly to himself and rose. The stratagem was really,he thought, too transparent, and his impression was strengthened whenConcha presently added, "I will not ask you to remain if you wouldrather go back. Then we will see whom they are most suspicious of, youor I. A girl may often steal a horse when a man dares not look over thewall."
In the abstract this was incontestable, but El Sarria only smiled themore grimly. After all Dolores was the only woman upon whose fidelityone would be justified in wagering the last whiff of a good _cigarillo_.And as if reminded of a duty El Sarria rolled a beauty as he dragged onehuge foot after another slowly up the hill in the rear of Concha, who,her love-locks straying on the breeze, her _basquina_ held coquettishlyin one hand, and the prettiest toss of the head for the benefit of anywhom it might concern, went leaping upwards like a young roe.
All the while Rollo was sitting below quite unconscious of thistreachery. His head was sunk on his hand. Deep melancholy brooded in hisheart. He rocked to and fro as if in pain. Looking down from themountain-side Ramon Garcia pitied him.
"Ah, poor innocent young man," he thought, "doubtless he believes thatthe heart of this girl is all his own. But all men are fools--abutterfly is always a butterfly and an Andaluse an Andaluse to the dayof her death!"
Then turning his thoughts backward, he remembered the many who had takentheir turn with mandolin and guitar at the _rejas_ of Concha's windowwhen he and Dolores lived outside the village of Sarria; and he (ah,thrice fool!) had taken it into his thick head to be jealous.
Well, after all this was none of his business, he thanked the saints. Hewas not responsible for the vagaries of pretty young women. He wonderedvaguely whether he ought to tell Rollo. But after turning the matterthis way and that, he decided against it, remembering the direconsequences of jealousy in his own case, and concluding with the sagereflection that there were plenty of mosquitoes in the world alreadywithout beating the bushes for more.
But with the corner of an eye more accustomed to the sun glinting onrifle barrels than to the flashing eyes of beauty, El Sarria could makeout that the Vitorian in the red _boina_ was following them, his gunover his shoulder, trying, not with conspicuous success to assume thesauntering air of a man who, having nothing better to do, goes for astroll in the summer evening.
"'Tis the first time that ever I saw a soldier off duty take his musketfor a walk!" growled El Sarria, "and why on the Sierra de Moncayo doesthe fellow stop to trick himself out as for a _festa_?"
Concha looked over her shoulder, presumably at El Sarria, though why themaiden's glances were so sprightly and her lips so provokingly pouted isa question hard enough to be propounded for the doctorial thesis atSalamanca. For Ramon Garcia was stolid as an ox of his native Aragon,and arch glances and pretty gestures were as much wasted on him as if hechewed the cud. Still he was not even in these matters so dull andunobservant as he looked, that is, when he had any reason for observing.
"Here comes that young ass of Alava," he murmured. "Well, he is at leastgetting his money's worth. By the saints favourable to my native parish,the holy Narcissus and Justus, but the _burro_ is tightening hisgirths!"
And El Sarria laughed out suddenly and sardonically. For he could seethe lad pulling his leathern belt a few holes tighter, in order that hemight present his most symmetrical figure to the eyes of this dazzlingAndalucian witch who had dropped so suddenly into the Carlist camp fromthe place whence all witches come.
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