Fair Margaret

by H. Rider Haggard

  CHAPTER XVII

  THE PLOT

  On the morning following these conversations, just after Margaret andBetty had breakfasted, Inez appeared, and, as before, locked the doorbehind her.

  "Senoras," she said calmly, "I have arranged that little business ofwhich I spoke to you yesterday, or at least the first act of the play,since it remains for you to write the rest. Now I am sent to say thatthe noble Marquis of Morella craves leave to see you, Dona Margaret, andwithin an hour. So there is no time to lose."

  "Tell us what you have done, Inez?" said Margaret.

  "I have seen your worshipful father, Dona Margaret; here is the token ofit, which you will do well to destroy when you have read." And shehanded her a slip of paper, whereon was written in her father's writing,and in English:

  "BELOVED DAUGHTER,

  "This messenger, who I think may be trusted by you, has madearrangements with me which she will explain. I approve, though the riskis great. Your cousin is a brave girl, but, understand, I do not forceher to this dangerous enterprise. She must choose her own road, only Ipromise that if she escapes and we live I will not forget her deed. Themessenger will bring me your answer. God be with us all, and farewell.

  "J.C."

  Margaret read this letter first to herself and then aloud to Betty, and,having read, tore it into tiny fragments and threw them from theturret window.

  "Speak now," she said; and Inez told her everything.

  "Can you trust the priest?" asked Margaret, when she had finished.

  "He is a great villain, as I have reason to know; still, I think I can,"she answered, "while the cabbage is in front of the donkey's nose--Imean until he has got all the money. Also, he has committed himself bytaking some on account. But before we go further, the question is--doesthis lady play?" and she pointed to Betty.

  "Yes, I play," said Betty, when she understood everything. "I won't goback upon my word; there is too much at stake. It is an ugly businessfor me, I know well enough, but," she added slowly, setting her firmmouth, "I have debts to pay all round, and I am no Spanish putty to besqueezed flat--like some people," and she glanced at the humble-lookingInez. "So, before all is done, it may be uglier for him."

  When she had mastered the meaning of this speech the soft-voiced Inezlifted her gentle eyes in admiration, and murmured a Spanish proverb asto what is supposed to occur when Satan encounters Beelzebub in ahigh-walled lane. Then, being a lady of resource and experience, theplot having been finally decided upon, not altogether with Margaret'sapproval, who feared for Betty's fate when it should be discovered, Inezbegan to instruct them both in various practical expedients, by means ofwhich the undoubted general resemblance of these cousins might beheightened and their differences toned down. To this end she promised tofurnish them with certain hair-washes, pigments, and articlesof apparel.

  "It is of small use," said Betty, glancing first at herself and then atthe lovely Margaret, "for even if they change skins, who can make thecalf look like the fawn, though they chance to feed in the same meadow?Still, bring your stuffs and I will do my best; but I think that a thickveil and a shut mouth will help me more than any of them, also a longgown to hide my feet."

  "Surely they are charming feet," said Inez politely, adding to herself,"to carry you whither you wish to go." Then she turned to Margaret andreminded her that the marquis desired to see her, and waited forher answer.

  "I will not meet him alone," said Margaret decidedly.

  "That is awkward," answered Inez, "as I think he has words to say to youwhich he does not wish others to hear, especially the senora yonder,"and she nodded towards Betty.

  "I will not meet him alone," repeated Margaret.

  "Yet, if things are to go forward as we have arranged, you must meethim, Dona Margaret, and give him that answer which he desires. Well, Ithink it can be arranged. The court below is large. Now, while you andthe marquis talk at one end of it, the Senora Betty and I might walk outof earshot at the other. She needs more instruction in our Spanishtongue; it would be a good opportunity to begin our lessons."

  "But what am I to say to him?" asked Margaret nervously.

  "I think," answered Inez, "that you must copy the example of thatwonderful actor, the Senor Peter, and play a part as well as you saw himdo, or even better, if possible."

  "It must be a very different part then," replied Margaret, stiffeningvisibly at certain recollections.

  The gentle Inez smiled as she said:

  "Yes, but surely you can seem jealous, for that is natural to us all,and you can yield by degrees, and you can make a bargain as the price ofyourself in marriage."

  "What exact bargain should I make?"

  "I think that you shall be securely wed by a priest of your own Church,and that letters, signed by that priest and announcing the marriage,shall be delivered to the Archbishop of Seville, and to their MajestiesKing Ferdinand and Queen Isabella. Also, of course, you must arrangethat the Senor Brome and your father, the Senor Castell, and your cousinBetty here shall be escorted safe out of Granada before your marriage,and that you shall see them pass through the gate beneath your turretwindow, swearing that thereafter, at nightfall of the same day, you willsuffer the priest to do his office and make you Morella's wife. By thattime they should be well upon their road, and, after the rite iscelebrated, I will receive the signed papers from the priest and followthem, leaving the false bride to play her part as best she can."

  Again Margaret hesitated; the thing seemed too complicated and full ofdanger. But while she thought, a knock came on the door.

  "That is to tell me that Morella awaits your answer in the court," saidInez. "Now, which is it to be? Remember that there is no other chance ofescape for you, or the others, from this guarded town--at least I cansee none."

  "I accept," said Margaret hurriedly, "and God help us all, for we shallneed Him."

  "And you, Senora Betty?"

  "Oh! I made up my mind long ago," answered Betty coolly. "We can onlyfail, when we shall be no worse off than before."

  "Good. Then play your parts well, both of you. After all, they shouldnot be so difficult, for the priest is safe, and the marquis will neverscent such a trick as this. Fix the marriage for this day week, as Ihave much to think of and make ready," and she went.

  * * * * *

  Half an hour later Margaret sat under the cool arcade of the marblecourt, and with her, Morella, while upon the further side of itssplashing fountain and out of earshot, Betty and Inez walked to and froin the shadow.

  "You sent for me, Marquis," said Margaret presently, "and, being yourprisoner, I have come because I must. What is your pleasure with me?"

  "Dona Margaret," he answered gravely, "can you not guess? Well, I willtell you, lest you should guess wrong. First, it is to ask yourforgiveness as I have done before, for the many crimes to which my love,my true love, for you has driven me. This time yesterday I knew wellthat I could expect none. To-day I dare to hope that it may beotherwise."

  "Why so, Marquis?"

  "Last evening you looked into a certain garden and saw two peoplewalking there--yonder is one of them," and he nodded towards Inez."Shall I go on?"

  "No," she answered in a low voice, and passing her hands before herface. "Only tell me who and what is that woman?" and in her turn shelooked towards Inez.

  "Is it necessary?" he asked. "Well, if you wish to know, she is aSpaniard of good blood who with her sister was taken captive by theMoors. A certain priest, who took an interest in the sister, brought herto my notice and I bought her from them; so, as her parents were deadand she had nowhere else to go, she elected to stay in my house. Youmust not judge such things too harshly; they are common here. Also, shehas been very useful to me, being clever, for through her I haveintelligence of many things. Of late, however, she has grown tired ofthis life, and wishes to earn her freedom, which I have promised her inreturn for certain services, and to leave Granada."

  "Was the nursing of my betro
thed one of those services, Marquis?"

  He shrugged his shoulders.

  "As you will, Senora. Certainly I forgive her this indiscretion, if atlast she has shown you the truth about that man for whose sake you haveendured so much. Margaret, now that you know him for what he is, say, doyou still cling to him?"

  She rose and walked a few steps down the arcade, then came back andasked:

  "Are you any better than this fallen man?"

  "I think so, Margaret, for since I knew you I am a risen man; all my oldself is left behind me, I am a new creature, and my sins have been foryou, not against you. Hear me, I beseech you. I stole you away, it istrue, but I have done you no harm, and will do you none. For your sakealso I have spared your father when I had but to make a sign to removehim from my path. I suffered him to escape from the prison where he wasconfined, and I know the place where he thinks himself hidden to-dayamong the Jews of Granada. Also, I nursed Peter Brome back to life, whenat any hour I could have let him die, lest afterwards I might have it onmy conscience that, but for my love for you, he might perhaps still beliving. Well, you have seen him as he is, and what say you now? Will youstill reject me? Look on me," and he drew up his tall and stately shape,"and tell me, am I such a man as a woman should be ashamed to own ashusband? Remember, too, that I have much to give you in this land ofSpain, whereof you shall become one of the greatest ladies, or perhapsin the future," he added significantly, "even more. War draws near,Margaret; this city and all its rich territories will fall into thehands of Spain, and afterwards I shall be their governor, almosttheir king."

  "And if I refuse?" asked Margaret.

  "Then," he answered sternly, "you bide here, and that false lover ofyours bides here, and your father bides here to take the chance of waras Christian captives with a thousand others who languish in thedungeons of the Alhambra, while, my mission ended, I go hence to play mypart in battle amongst my peers, as one of the first captains of theirMost Catholic Majesties. Yet it is not to your fears that I wouldappeal, but to your heart, for I seek your love and your dearcompanionship through life, and, if I can help it, desire to work youand yours no harm."

  "You desire to work them no harm. Then, if I were to fall in with yourhumour, would you let them go in safety?--I mean my father and the SenorBrome and my cousin Betty, whom, if you were as honest as you pretend tobe, you should ask to bide with you as your wife, and not myself."

  "The last I cannot do," he answered, flushing. "God knows I meant her nohurt, and only used her to keep near to and win news of you, thinkingher, to tell truth, somewhat other than she is."

  "Are no women honest here in Spain, then, my lord Marquis?"

  "A few, a very few, Dona Margaret. But I erred about Betty, whom I tookfor a simple serving-girl, and to whom, if need be, I am ready to makeall amends."

  "Except that which is due to a woman you have asked to be your wife, andwho in our country could claim the fulfilment of your promise, ordeclare you shamed. But you have not answered. Would they go free?"

  "As free as air--especially the Senora Betty," he added with a littlesmile, "for to speak truth, there is something in that woman's eyeswhich frightens me at times. I think that she has a long memory. Withinan hour of our marriage you shall look down from your window and seethem depart under escort, every one, to go whither they will."

  "Nay," answered Margaret, "it is not enough. I should need to see themgo before, and then, if I consented, not till the sun had set would Ipay the price of their ransom."

  "Then do you consent? he asked eagerly.

  "My lord Marquis, it would seem that I must. My betrothed has played mefalse. For a month or more I have been prisoner in your palace, which Iunderstand has no good name, and, if I refuse, you tell me that all ofus will be cast into yonder dungeons to be sold as slaves or dieprisoners of the Moors. My lord Marquis, fate and you leave me butlittle choice. On this day week I will marry you, but blame me not ifyou find me other than you think, as you have found my cousin whom youbefooled. Till then, also, I pray you that you will leave me quiteuntroubled. If you have arrangements to make or commands to send, thewoman Inez yonder will serve as messenger, for of her I know the worst."

  "I will obey you in all things, Dona Margaret," he answered humbly. "Doyou desire to see your father or--" and he paused.

  "Neither of them," she answered. "I will write to them and send myletters by this Inez. Why should I see them," she added passionately,"who have done with the old days when I was free and happy, and am aboutto become the wife of the most noble Marquis of Morella, that honourablegrandee of Spain, who tricked a poor girl by a false promise ofmarriage, and used her blind and loving folly to trap and steal me frommy home? My lord, till this day week I bid you farewell," and, walkingfrom the arcade to the fountain, she called aloud to Betty to accompanyher to their rooms.

  The week for which Margaret had bargained had gone by. All was prepared.Inez had shown to Morella the letters that his bride to be wrote to herfather and to Peter Brome; also the answers, imploring and passionate,to the same. But there were other letters and other answers which shehad not shown. It was afternoon, swift horses were ready in thecourtyard, and with them an escort, while, disguised as Moors, Castelland Peter waited under guard in a chamber close at hand. Betty, dressedin the robes of a Moorish woman, and thickly veiled, stood beforeMorella, to whom Inez had led her.

  "I come to tell you," she said, "that at sundown, three hours after wehave passed beneath her window, my cousin and mistress will wait to bemade your wife, but if you try to disturb her before then she will be nowife of yours, or any man's."

  "I obey," answered Morella; "and, Senora Betty, I pray your pardon, andthat you will accept this gift from me in token of your forgiveness."And with a low bow he handed to her a beautiful necklace of pearls.

  "I take them," said Betty, with a bitter laugh, "as they may serve tobuy me a passage back to England. But forgive you I do not, Marquis ofMorella, and I warn you that there is a score between us which I mayyet live to settle. You seem to have won, but God in Heaven takes noteof the wickedness of men, and in this way or in that He always pays Hisdebts. Now I go to bid farewell to my cousin Margaret, but to you I donot bid farewell, for I think that we shall meet again," and with a sobshe let fall the veil which she had lifted above her lips to speak anddeparted with Inez, to whom she whispered as they went, "He will notlinger for any more good-byes with Betty Dene."

  They entered Margaret's room and locked the door behind them. She wasseated on a low divan wrapped in a loose robe, and by her side,glittering with silver and with gems, lay her bridal veil and garments.

  "Be swift," said Inez to Betty, who stripped off her Moorish dress andthe long, flowing veil that was wrapped about her head, whereon it wasseen that her hair had changed greatly in colour, from yellow to darkchestnut indeed, while her eyes, ringed about with pigments, and madelustrous by drugs dropped into them, looked no longer blue, but blacklike Margaret's. Yes, and wonder of wonders, on the right side of thechin and on the back of the neck were moles, or beauty-spots, just suchas Margaret had borne there from her birth! In short, their staturebeing much the same, though Betty was more thickly built, except in thestrongest light it would not have been easy to distinguish them apart,even unveiled, for at all such arts of the altering of the looks ofwomen, Inez was an adept, and she had done her best.

  Now Margaret clothed herself in the white robes and the thick head-dressthat hid her face, all except a little crack left for the eyes to peepthrough, whilst Betty, with the help of Inez, arrayed herself in thewondrous wedding robe beset with jewels that was Morella's bridal gift,and hid her dyed tresses beneath the pearl-sewn veil. Within ten minutesall was finished, even to the dagger that Betty had tied about herbeneath her robe, and the two transformed women stood staring ateach other.

  "It is time to go," said Inez.

  Then Margaret broke out:

  "I do not like this business; I never did. When he discovers all, thatman's rage wil
l be terrible, and he will kill her. I repent that I haveconsented to the plot."

  "It is too late to repent now, Senora," said Inez.

  "Cannot Betty be got away also?" asked Margaret desperately.

  "It is just possible," answered Inez; "thus, before the marriage,according to the old custom here, I hand the cups of wine to thebridegroom and the bride. That for the marquis will be drugged, since hemust not see too clear to-night. Well, I might brew it stronger so thatwithin half an hour he would not know whether he were married or single,and then, perhaps, she might escape with me and come to join you. But itis very risky, and, of course, if we were discovered--the stitch wouldbe out of the wineskin, and the cellar floor might be stained!"

  Now Betty interrupted:

  "Keep your stitches whole, Cousin; if any skins are to be pricked itcan't be helped, and at least you won't have to wipe up the mess. I amnot going to run away from the man, more likely he will run away fromme. I look well in this fine dress of yours, and I mean to wear it out.Now begone--begone, before some of them come to seek me. Don't yougrieve for me; I'll lie in the bed that I have made, and if the worstcomes to the worst, I have money in my pocket--or its worth--and we willmeet again in England. Come, give my love and duty to Master Peter andyour father, and if I should see them no more, bid them think kindly ofBetty Dene, who was such a plague to them."

  Then, taking Margaret in her strong arms, she kissed her again andagain, and fairly thrust her from the room.

  But when they were gone, poor Betty sat down and cried a little, tillshe remembered that hot tears might melt the paint upon her face, and,drying them, went to the window and watched.

  A while later, from her lofty niche, she saw six Moorish horsemen ridingalong the white road to the embattled gate. After them came two men anda woman, all splendidly mounted, also dressed as Moors, and then sixother horsemen. They passed the gate which was opened for them and beganto mount the slope beyond. At the crest of it the woman halted and,turning, waved a handkerchief. Betty answered the signal, and in anotherminute they had vanished, and she was alone.

  Never did she spend a more weary afternoon. Two hours later, stillwatching at her window, she saw the Moorish escort return, and knew thatall was well, and that by now, Margaret, her lover, and her father weresafely started on their journey. So she had not risked her life in vain.