CHAPTER XLVIII
A POINT OF HONOUR
There remained Concha to be dealt with. Ah, yes, and also his companionsEl Sarria, Mortimer, and Etienne. Only--they did not count. What mandoes count when the one woman is in the question? Friends of a lifetimeare skipped like the historical introduction of an exciting romance,through whose pages battle, murder, and sudden death play gaily atleap-frog and devil-take-the-hindmost.
Yes, Rollo owned it, Concha mattered. There was no blinking the fact. Itwould be bitter almost as death for him to tell her that he must oncemore leave her to take his life in his hand, upon a mere point ofhonour. She might not understand. Like his friends she might denouncehis purpose as arrant quixotry and folly. Well, that would certainlymake it harder--but even then he would carry it through.
He found them seated in the lodgings which Rollo had secured for Conchaand La Giralda in a house that looked upon the Puerta del Sol. Opposite,but upon the same staircase and landing, lodged El Sarria, who, if itwould have given any pleasure to Rollo, would have slept all nightoutside his sweetheart's door.
Etienne, Mortimer, and Rollo himself had rooms on the other side of thegreat square. But upon Rollo's return all were now assembled in Concha'ssitting-room, as had grown to be their easy custom. Concha needed nochaperon, and if the straiter _convenances_ required one, was there notLa Giralda with her myriad wrinkles busied about the pots in the littleadjacent kitchen or seated with her knitting in the window-seat like afavoured guest? For it was in this simple fashion that these six peoplehad come to dwell together. And as he entered, the heart of the youngman smote him sore.
Alas! that he, Rollo Blair, whom these had followed loyally,questionless, as clansmen follow their chief through mirk midnight andthe brazen glare of noon, should now come among these faithful heartslike a mute with the bowstring, to put an end to all this comradeshipand true comity!
All knew in a moment that there was something in the air, for thoughConcha offered to prepare a cigarette with her own fingers, Rollodeclined it and sat down among them heavy and sad. It was some timebefore he could bring himself to speak.
"You who are all my friends," he said, "my best and only friends--listento me. I will hide nothing from you. I have come directly from theQueen. She and Mendizabal have offered me a high position, and one inwhich we might all have kept together in great content, if such had beenyour desire. Yet for the present I cannot accept it. I am not a freeman. For it lies on my soul that the Abbot of Montblanch trusted usthree when we had neither aim nor end in life. He gave us both of these.He fitted us out for our mission. For me he did much more. He made me anofficer in the army of Don Carlos, though Heaven knows Don Carlos wasno more to me than any other stupid fool--I crave your pardon, Etienne!I forgot your relationship."
"Say on," cried Etienne, gaily, flipping his cigarette ash with hislittle finger, "do not consider my feelings. All my cousins are stupidfools! I have always said so."
"Well, then," said Rollo, "to this man, who among other things gave useach other's friendship, and" (here he reached out his hand to takeConcha's) "who gave me this----"
He was silent for some moments, still holding the girl's hand, while hereyes were doubtless lovely as moonlit waters, could any man have seenthem. But no man did, for the fringed lashes remained resolutely, ifsomewhat tremulously, downcast.
"Well, then, I cannot leave this man to think me a mere common traitor.No, not if it loses me life and--all. I have failed in my mission. Notonly so, but by the irony of fate I have fought against his friends andbeen saved by his enemies."
"We were saved by Concha Cabezos there, I tell you," said John Mortimer,who thought all this mere rant. "Let the old priest alone, Rollo. Marrythe girl you want to marry, and take a good job when it is offered toyou. You may not get a second chance of either. And that is a plainman's mind upon the matter, whether you want it or not!"
Sadly but determinedly Rollo shook his head.
"No, John," he said, "that I cannot do. I were bankrupt for life in myown esteem if I did not go straight to the Prior, frankly explain ourfailure, resign my commission into his hands, and offer him any otherservice in my power. I think I see my way to one even now!"
"My advice," said Etienne, suddenly striking in, "is to let my gooduncle continue in his mistake a little longer, if indeed any mistakethere be. You use a delicacy he would have been the last to use withyou. I do not believe the old fox would have cared a straw if all ourthroats had been cut, so that we had served his turn. Depend upon it, wethree were the poorest kind of pawns in his game. If I am not greatlymistaken Cabrera and Elio were only his prancing knights, and DonCarlos, my dear cousin, the stupid old king who is of no use except toget himself checkmated."
"And who," said Rollo, smiling for the first time, "may the Queen beupon this little family chessboard?"
"There is indeed rather a superabundance of Queens, as we have seen,"said Etienne, "but he who pushes about all the pieces is doubtless thepetticoated old rogue himself. Baltasar Varela has been at the bottom ofevery plot these thirty years, and if anything goes wrong, he will bethe first to skip over the mountains! Take a friend's advice,Rollo"--here the honest fellow grasped his friend's hand hard--"sendyour explanations and unused commissions to my respected relative bypost. For me, I would not go within fifty miles of him for all therevenues of Montblanch twice told!"
"Well, El Sarria, what say you? They are all against me, you see!" saidRollo, mournfully, adding after a moment, "as indeed I knew they wouldbe!"
As usual the ex-outlaw had little to say, and was deplorably shy as tosaying it.
"Senor," he said after a long pause, "you have doubtless your own pointof honour. I had one once which very nearly cost myself and another alifetime of misery. Let the senor weigh the matter well and often beforehe runs a like risk!"
"That also is against me!" said Rollo, smiling; "Concha, you have heardall the others--what do you say?"
Concha rose and stood beside him. She put her arm gently on his shoulderso that her hand touched his cheek.
"I understand, if they do not!" she said. "I understand all. You areright. Go!"
* * * * *
So Rollo set forth, and with him there also journeyed to the northEtienne--first, because he was tired of Madrid, second, because he wasreturning to France, thirdly (and privately), because the village ofSarria and a certain green garden lattice were to be found on the routethither; John Mortimer, because if Rollo were bound to see the Prior,perhaps after all something might be done about the _Priorato_; ElSarria, because night and morning, noon and midnight, he prayed with hisface towards that Convent of the Holy Innocents where Dolores and herbabe waited for him; La Giralda, because she might as well go northwardas in any other direction; and Concha--but it is superfluous to say whyConcha was going.
Nevertheless Rollo insisted that since he was solely responsible, healone should adventure the anger of the Prior, though indeed any or allof the others would readily have accompanied him to Montblanch.
But the young Scot felt acutely how perversely, and like a cross-grainedjade, Fate had treated him. He knew also that appearances were againsthim and in what fashion his actions might have been misrepresented tothe Prior. Being singularly little given to suspicion, Rollo was notgreatly affected by Etienne's estimate of his uncle. Besides, there wasthe information concerning the approaching suppression of the conventsto be communicated, in such a form that it might be of use to the Abbotand brethren of Montblanch, and yet do no injury to those through whomhe had come into possession of the secret.
In due time, therefore, after leaving Madrid the party arrived at thevillage of Sarria. For, being possessed of all manner of governmentalpasses and recommendations, they travelled rapidly and luxuriouslyconsidering the difficult and troublous times. At Sarria, Rollo, lookingout eagerly northward to where above the horizon the peaks of Montblanchpushed themselves up blue and soft like a row of ragged and batteredninepins, paus
ed only to assure himself of the well-doing of DoloresGarcia and her son under the roof of the good Sisters in the Convent ofthe Holy Innocents. There were also a few arrangements to be made--andhis will. Which last did not take long time. It contained only oneclause: "I leave all of which I die possessed to my betrothed wifeConcha Cabezos of Seville.--ROLLO BLAIR."
The arrangements were these--Concha remained to assist Don Ramon, whohad once more assumed the position of a property-holder and man ofauthority among his townsfolk, to open out and prepare his house for thereception of Dolores. That little wife and mother, in spite of her newjoy, continued delicate in health, though (needless to say) the nuns hadgiven her the very best possible nursing. But those who saw the meetingof husband and wife knew that now she would have a better chance ofrecovery than all the bitter tisanes and laborious simples of theSisters' store-cupboard had afforded her.
Etienne and John Mortimer decided to await events at the hostelry ofGaspar Perico. The former took the first opportunity of converting thesilent serving-maid as far as possible to his interests by a judiciousgift of some half a dozen gold pieces. Immediately thereafter, havingthus protected his rear, he sought the green lattice. It had been takendown and a seven-foot wall had been built. Indeed a mason, who was atthat moment engaged in laying the coping, informed him that the familyhad left for South America. Whereupon Etienne went back in haste andfound the barefooted Abigail.
"Why did you not tell me that they were gone--before----?" he demandedangrily.
"Before what?" asked the Abigail, putting the corner of her apron to hermouth and biting it with the utmost simplicity.
"Before I gave you that money?"
"Because--why, because your Excellency never asked me!"
"And pray, _Senorita_," growled Etienne, waxing grimly satirical, "whatdid you suppose that I gave you the money for?"
The maid-servant let go the apron, put one finger to her mouth instead,and, looking down with infinite modesty, sketched with her bare toe uponthe ground.
"Well?" queried Etienne, impatiently, and with a sharp risinginflection.
"Because," fluttered the little maid-of-all-work, "because I--_I thoughtyou liked me_!"
Etienne turned away in a dumb rage, and the small sharp-featured Abigailgot behind the back-kitchen door to dance three steps and a doubleshuffle all to herself.
When he had recovered his powers of speech Etienne called her theseveral kinds of fiend which can be defined by the French language, butthis broke no bones.
"Well, dear _Senorita_," she remarked very sagely, when tasked by Conchawith duplicity (after the manner of Satan reproving sin), "he neverasked me, and besides, _then_ he would not have given me the sixNapoleons!"
Which last proposition of the Abigail of Sarria would not have gained incredibility had it been supported by a Papal Bull.
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