his names, to which he has as great a right as to thecoat he now wears; but he is no friar, senhor; no, no, he is too honestfor that; but if he is tempted to commit any piece of villainy, heassumes the character, as most appropriate for the purpose, he says. Heonce entered a monastery as a lay brother, where he learned all thehabits and customs of the monks; but they did not accord with the ideasof morality he then entertained, so after a couple of years he quittedthem, and has ever since wandered about the country in variousdisguises, as suits his purpose; but if the holy Inquisition get hold ofhim, I fear he will not be able to escape their clutches."
"But has he given you any information that may be of service to us?"interrupted Luis eagerly.
"That is to be proved," said Antonio calmly; "I know the man from whosepower the Frade saved your life, and who carried the lady off; a greatervillain there does not exist in Lisbon. I have learned so much from ourfriend, though the difficulty will be to find this Rodrigo; and thechances are that he will adorn one of the newly-raised gibbets beforelong. I hope, however, to have an interview with him before that time;and then the sooner he is hung, the sooner will there be one villainless in the world."
"Is this the only clue you have been able to discover?" said Luis,dejectedly. "I fear that it will be of little service."
"Fear not, senhor," answered Antonio: "in the first place, you have thesatisfaction of knowing that the lady was not killed by the fallinghouses, when Rodrigo carried her off; and, in the second, I have reasonto suppose that it was not for his own sake he committed the outrage."
"Thank Heaven for that!" ejaculated Luis.
"In the mean time, our friend the Frade is making inquiries which mayassist us," continued Antonio. "And we will now, by your leave, findCaptain Pinto, to whom I wish to make some reports."
They accordingly proceeded in search of the Captain.
When Don Luis and his companions arrived at the spot where they hadagreed to meet Captain Pinto, which was at an open place called the CaesSodre, near the royal arsenal, they found the people under his commandwith several prisoners in their custody.
Antonio examined the countenance of each, but he did not recognise anyone till he came to a man lying bound on the ground, his clothes tornand bloody, with two of the guards standing near him, badly wounded."Ah!" he exclaimed, "Senhor Rodrigo, you know me, I think?"
"Yes," answered the ruffian; "I am not likely to forget you."
Luis looked on with anxiety, for he beheld the ruffian who had carriedoff Clara; but Antonio, desiring to be left alone with the man, kneltdown by his side, while Captain Pinto detailed to Luis the circumstancesof his capture. His last act had been in character with his formerlife. The guards were passing a house from which loud cries were heardto proceed, and on entering it an old man was found weltering in hisblood on the floor, and a woman was struggling in the grasp of theruffian, whose shrieks prevented his hearing their entrance. Beforethey could seize him, however, he had plunged his knife into her bosom;and then turning on them, had wounded two in his attempt to escape; butat last, after a desperate resistance, he was captured.
Luis shuddered as he heard the account. "Has my beloved Clara been inthe power of a wretch like this?" he thought.
Antonio held some minutes' conversation with the bravo. "For whatpurpose did you carry off the lady?" he said, after some time.
"To serve another, the greater my folly," was the answer.
"And she is there still?" inquired Antonio.
"Yes, if he has not removed her.--Go, I would have my revenge on him.He has deceived me twice, and you may gain the ransom I expected--andthen I shall die happy."
Before night the corpse of the noted bravo, Rodrigo, was seen hangingfrom the highest gibbet at the gates of Lisbon.
Volume 2, Chapter XVI.
We have observed, in the course of our very desultory custom of reading,that most novelists delight in endeavouring to make their readerssuppose, somewhere about the middle of their second volume, that theirhero, or heroine, in whose fate by that time they may have begun to feelsome interest, has been engulfed beneath the raging waves, or dashed topieces from falling off a lofty, sea-worn cliff, or murdered by bandittiin a forest, or blown up in a castle, or has made his or her exit fromthis terrestrial scene in some equally romantic way; for we cannot fillour page with further instances. Now, we confess that, after a littleexperience, we were never deceived by such ingenious devices. In thefirst place, very few writers have the hardihood to kill their heroes orheroines at all, for the reason, that few readers approve of theprinciple; and, in the second, they would not think of doing so till theend of the third volume, as they would find considerable difficulty incontinuing their story without them. For our own part, rather thancommit so atrocious an act, we would alter the truth of history, anddefer the dreadful catastrophe to the final scene.
Having made this preamble, we must return to the ruins of the SantaClara Convent, at the moment the bravo Rodrigo had torn Clara from thearms of Don Luis, after their almost miraculous escape from destruction.She had just recovered sufficient consciousness to know that she wasseparated from him, and had no power to liberate herself. In vain shecalled on Luis to save her, as the ruffian bore her away. He carriedher quickly across the ruins, passing close to the spot where herunhappy father then was; and when he saw himself pursued, not knowing bywhom, he dashed down the nearest turning with his fair prize, regardlessof her cries and prayers for mercy. His progress in that direction wassoon impeded by the burning buildings, when he was obliged to turn backpart of the way, and make a circuit through the northern part of thecity in the direction of Belem, towards which he proceeded on the veryopposite side. No one regarded him as he passed: they were eitherwretches like himself, or unhappy beings who had, that day, perchance,lost all they loved on earth, and heeded not aught but their ownmisfortunes; besides, alas! such spectacles had become too common toattract the notice of any: no one attempted to rescue her from theruffian's power. At length, weary from his exertions, for the road hewas obliged to follow was long, steep, and intricate, Rodrigo stopped torest. Even over the most savage bosoms lovely innocence will always beable to exert a softening influence, and we believe that there is no manborn of womankind so hardened as not to feel its power. Clara, thoughshe thought not this, for terror had deprived her of all power ofthinking, took this opportunity, by a natural instinct, to entreat hercaptor to restore her to her father, promising him a high reward for sodoing.
"So you said once before, lady, when I had you in my power; but I shallnot be again disappointed, depend on it," answered the robber."However, don't be alarmed, for your lover, as I guess him to be, is, asfar as I know, still alive, no thanks to my intentions, though; and I amgoing to take you to one who will treat you well, and pay me highly formy trouble and loss of time, so there is nothing after all to cryabout."
"But my father will pay you any sum you demand," quickly respondedClara, thinking she had made some impression on the man's feelings.
"No, no," he answered, "he would not have shut you up in a convent if hecared much about you; besides, for what I know, he may be killed, asthousands were to-day; now my employer was alive a few hours since, andI intend this time to make sure of my reward."
The thoughts of her father's death stopped Clara's further utterance,and the bravo, again lifting her in his arms, bore her onward. He nowagain turned through some partially ruined streets, several fierce bandspassing him who uttered horrid jests, and seemed inclined to disputepossession of his prize; but his fierce threats of vengeance made themdesist, for his character was well-known to all.
Full two hours had passed ere he finally stopped before the door of alow house, which appeared uninjured; for while the lofty temples and theproud palaces of the great had been overwhelmed in ruin, the humble shedof the mechanic had escaped.
He forced open the door, and entered without hesitation. An old womanwas seated on the floor, trembling and weeping with alarm: a small oillamp b
urning near her gave just sufficient light to show the wretchedstate of the apartment.
He placed Clara on one of the two only chairs the room afforded, andthen fastened the door behind him. "Come, rouse up, mother, and stopyour tears, the earthquake will do no further harm. Here is a lady Ihave brought you to attend upon, and remember you must treat herproperly."
"Take her away--I want no ladies here!" muttered the old hag, withoutlooking up.
"Hark you, mother! I expect to be well paid for my trouble, and youshall have plenty of gold if I return her safe to her friends. My tasteis not for such delicate fish as this."
"Am I to have plenty of gold?" said the old woman, eagerly. "Yes, yes,then I will do all you require."
"That is well,"
The Prime Minister Page 70
