XVII.
Disclosures.
"No distance breaks the tie of blood; Brothers are brothers evermore; Nor wrong, nor wrath of deadliest mood, That magic may o'erpower."--Keble
The opportunity for free converse with his brother which Carlos desired,yet dreaded, was unexpectedly postponed. It would have been inaccordance neither with the ideas of the time nor with his own feelingsto have shortened his period of retreat in the monastery, though hewould not now prolong it. And though Don Juan did not fail to make hisappearance upon every day when visitors were admitted, he was alwaysaccompanied by either of his cousins Don Manuel or Don Balthazar, or byboth. These shallow, worldly-minded young men were little likely toallow for the many things, in which strangers might not intermeddle,that brothers long parted might find to say to each other; they onlythought that they were conferring a high honour on their poorerrelatives by their favour and notice. In their presence theconversation was necessarily confined to the incidents of Juan'scampaign, and to family matters. Whether Don Balthazar would obtain apost he was seeking under Government; whether Dona Sancha wouldeventually bestow the inestimable favour of her hand upon Don BeltranVivarez or Don Alonso de Giron; and whether the disappointed suitorwould stab himself or his successful rival;--these were questions ofwhich Carlos soon grew heartily weary. But in all that concernedBeatrix he was deeply interested. Whatever he may once have allowedhimself to fancy about the sentiments of a very young and childish girl,he never dreamed that she would make, or even desire to make, anyopposition to the expressed wish of her guardian, who destined her forJuan. He was sure that she would learn quickly enough to love hisbrother as he deserved, even if she did not already do so. And it gavehim keen pleasure that his sacrifice had not been in vain; that thewine-cup of joy which he had just tasted, then put steadily aside, wasbeing drained to the dregs by the lips he loved best. It is true thispleasure was not yet unmixed with pain, but the pain was less than a fewmonths ago he would have believed possible. The wound which he oncethought deadly, was in process of being healed; nay, it was nearlyhealed already. But the scar would always remain.
Grand and mighty, but perplexing and mournful thoughts were filling hisheart every day more and more. Amongst the subjects eagerly andcontinually discussed with the brethren of San Isodro, the mostprominent just now was the sole priesthood of Christ, with theimpossibility of his one perfect and sufficient sacrifice being everrepeated.
But these truths, in themselves so glorious, had for those who dared toadmit them one terrible consequence. Their full acknowledgment wouldtransform "the main altar's consummation," the sacrifice of the mass,from the highest act of Christian worship into a hideous lie,dishonouring to God, and ruinous to man.
To this conclusion the monks of San Isodro were drawing nearer slowlybut surely every day. And Carlos was side by side with the mostadvanced of them in the path of progress. Though timid in action, he wasbold in speculation. To his keen, quick intellect to think and toreason was a necessity; he could not rest content with surface truths,nor leave any matter in which he was interested without probing it toits depths.
But as far at least as the monks were concerned, the conclusion nowimminent was practically a most momentous one. It must transform thelight that illuminated them into a fire that would burn and torture thehands that held and tried to conceal it. They could only guardthemselves from loss and injury, perhaps from destruction, by setting iton the candlestick of a true and faithful profession.
"Better," said the brethren to each other, "leave behind us the richlands and possessions of our order; what are these things in comparisonto a conscience void of offence towards God and towards man? Let us goforth and seek shelter in some foreign land, destitute exiles butfaithful witnesses for Christ, having purchased to ourselves the libertyof confessing his name before men." This plan was the most popular withthe community; though there were some that objected to it, not becauseof the loss of worldly wealth it would entail, but because of itsextreme difficulty, and the peril in which it would involve others.
That the question might be fully discussed and some course of actionresolved upon, the monks of San Isodro convened a solemn chapter.Carlos had not, of course, the right to be present, though his friendswould certainly inform him immediately afterwards of all that passed.So he whiled away part of the anxious hours by a walk in the orangegrove belonging to the monastery. It was now December, and there hadbeen a frost--not very usual in that mild climate. Every blade of grasswas gemmed with tiny jewels, which were crushed by his footsteps as hepassed along. He fancied them like the fair and sparkling, but unrealdreams of the creed in which he had been nurtured. They must perish;even should he weakly turn aside to spare them, God's sun would not failere long to dissolve them with the warmth of its beams. But whereforemourn them? Would not the sun shine on still, and the blue sky, theemblem of eternal truth and love, still stretch above his head?Therefore he would look up--up, and not down. Forgetting the things thatwere behind, and reaching forth unto those that were before, he wouldfain press forward towards the mark for the prize. And then his heartwent up in fervent prayer that not only he himself, but also all thosewho shared his faith, might be enabled so to do.
Turning into a path leading back through the grove to the monastery, hesaw his brother coming towards him.
"I was seeking thee," said Don Juan.
"And always welcome. But why so early? On a Friday too?"
"Wherein is Friday worse than Thursday?" asked Juan with a laugh. "Youare not a monk, or even a novice, to be bound by rules so strict thatyou may not say, 'Vaya con Dios' to your brother without asking leave ofmy lord Abbot."
Carlos had often noticed, not with displeasure, the freedom which Juansince his return assumed in speaking of Churchmen and Church ordinances.He answered, "I am only bound by the general rules of the house, towhich it is seemly that visitors should conform. To-day the brethrenare holding a Chapter to confer upon matters pertaining to theirdiscipline. I cannot well bring you in-doors; but we do not need abetter parlour than this."
"True. I care for no roof save God's sky; and as for glazed and gratedwindows, I abhor them. Were I thrown into prison, I should die in aweek. I made an early start for San Isodro, on an unusual day, to getrid of the company of my excellent but tiresome cousins; for in truth Iam sick unto death of their talk and their courtesies. Moreover, I haveten thousand things to tell you, brother."
"I have a few for your ear also."
"Let us sit down. Here is a pleasant seat which some of your brethrencontrived to rest their weary limbs and enjoy the prospect. They knowhow to be comfortable, these monks."
They sat down accordingly. For more than an hour Don Juan was the chiefspeaker; and as he spoke out of the abundance of his heart, it was nowonder that the name oftenest on his lips was that of Dona Beatriz. Ofthe long and circumstantial story that he poured into the sympathizingear of Carlos no more than this is necessary to repeat--that Beatriz notonly did not reject him (no well-bred Spanish girl would behave in sucha singular manner to a suitor recommended by her guardian), but actuallylooked kindly, nay, even smiled upon him. His exhilaration was inconsequence extreme; and its expression might have proved tedious to anylistener not deeply interested in his welfare.
At last, however, the subject was dismissed. "So my path lies clear andplain before me," said Juan, his fine determined face glowing withresolution and hope. "A soldier's life, with its toils and prizes; anda happy home at Nuera, with a sweet face to welcome me when I return.And, sooner or later, _that_ voyage to the Indies. But you,Carlos--speak out, for I confess you perplex me--what do _you_ wish andintend?"
"Had you asked me that question a few months, I might almost say a fewweeks, ago, I should not have hesitated, as now I do, for an answer."
"You were ever willing, more than willing, for Holy Church's service. Iknow but one cause which co
uld alter your mind; and to the tenderaccusation you have already pleaded not guilty."
"The plea is a true one."
"Certes; it cannot be that you have been seized with a sudden passionfor a soldier's life," laughed Juan. "That was never your taste, littlebrother; and with all respect for you, I scarce think your achievementswith sword and arquebus would be specially brilliant. But there issomething wrong with you," he said in an altered tone, as he gazed inhis brother's anxious face.
"Not _wrong_, but--"
"I have it!" said Juan, joyously interrupting him. "You are in debt.That is soon mended, brother. In fact, it is my fault. I have had fartoo large a share already of what should have been for both of us alike.In future--"
"Hush, brother. I have always had enough, more than I needed. And thouhast many expenses, and wilt have more henceforward, whilst I shall onlywant a doublet and hosen, and a pair of shoes."
"And a cassock and gown?"
Carlos was silent.
"I vow it is a harder task to comprehend you than to chase Coligny'sguard with my single arm! And you so pious, so good a Christian! Ifyou were a dull rough soldier like me, and if you had had a Huguenotprisoner (and a very fine fellow, too) to share your bed and board formonths, one could comprehend your not liking certain things over well,or even"--and Juan averted his face and lowered his voice--"your havingcertain evil thoughts you would scarcely care to breathe in the ears ofyour father confessor."
"Brother, I too have had thoughts," said Carlos eagerly.
But Juan suddenly tossed off his montero, and ran his fingers throughhis black glossy hair. In old times this gesture used to be a sign thathe was going to speak seriously. After a moment he began, but with alittle hesitation, for in fact he held the _mind_ of Carlos in as trueand unfeigned reverence as Carlos held his _character_. And that isenough to say, without mentioning the additional respect with which heregarded him, as almost a priest. "Brother Carlos, you are good andpious. You were thus from childhood; and therefore it is that you arefit for the service of Holy Church. You rise and go to rest, you readyour books, and tell your beads, and say your prayers, all just as youare ordered. It is the best life for you, and for any man who can liveit, and be content with it. You do not sin, you do not doubt; thereforeyou will never come into any grief or trouble. But let me tell you,little brother, you have a scant notion what men meet with who go forthinto the great world and fight their way in it; seeing on every side ofthem things that, take them as they may, will _not_ always square withthe faith they have learned in childhood."
"Brother, I also have struggled and suffered. I also have doubted."
"Oh yes, a Churchman's doubts! You had only to tell yourself doubt wasa sin, to make the sign of the cross, to say an Ave or two, then therewas an end of your doubts. 'Twere a different matter if you had theevil one in the shape of an angel of light--at least in that of acourteous, well-bred Huguenot gentleman, with as nice a sense of honouras any Catholic Christian--at your side continually, to whisper that thepriests are no better than they ought to be, that the Church needsreform; and Heaven knows what more, and worse, beside.--Now, my piousbrother, if thou art going to curse me with bell, book, and candle,begin at once. I am ready, and prepared to be duly penitent. Let mefirst put on my cap though, for it is cold," and he suited the action tothe word.
The voice in which Carlos answered him was low and tremulous withemotion. "Instead of cursing thee, brother beloved, I bless thee frommy heart for words which give me courage to speak. I have doubted--nay,why should I shrink from the truth! I have learned, as I believe, fromGod himself, that some things which the Church teaches as her doctrinesare only the commandments of men."
Don Juan started, and his colour changed. His vaguely liberal ideaswere far from having prepared him for this. "What do you mean?" hecried, staring at his brother in amazement.
"That I am now, in very truth, what I think you would call--_aHuguenot_."
The die was cast. The avowal was made. Carlos waited its effects inbreathless silence, as one who has fired a powder magazine might awaitthe explosion.
"May all the holy saints have mercy upon us!" cried Juan, in a voicethat echoed through the grove. But after that one involuntary cry hewas silent. The eyes of Carlos sought his face, but he turned away fromhim. At last he muttered, striking with his sword at the trunk of atree that was near him, "Huguenot--Protestant--_heretic_!"
"Brother," said Carlos, rising and standing before him--"brother, saywhat thou wilt, only speak to me. Reproach me, curse me, strike me, ifit please thee, only speak to me."
Juan turned, gazed full in his imploring face, and slowly, very slowly,allowed the sword to fall from his hand. There was a moment of doubt,of hesitation. Then he stretched out that hand to his brother. "Theywho list may curse thee, but not I," he said.
Carlos strained the offered hand in so close a grasp that his own wascut by his brother's diamond ring, and the blood flowed.
For a long time both were silent, Juan in amazement, perhaps inconsternation; Carlos in deep thankfulness. His confession was made,and his brother loved him still.
At last Juan spoke, slowly and as if half bewildered. "The Sieur deRamenais believes in God, and in our Lord and his passion. And you?"
Carlos repeated the Apostles' Creed in the vulgar tongue.
"And in Our Lady, Mary, Mother of God?"
"I believe that she was the most blessed among women, the holiest amongthe holy saints. Yet I ask her intercession no more. I am too wellassured of His love who says to me; and to all who keep his word, 'Mybrother, my sister, my mother.'"
"I thought devotion to Our Lady was the surest mark of piety," saidJuan, in utter perplexity. "Then, I am only a man of the world. Butoh, my brother, this is frightful!" He paused a moment, then added morecalmly, "Still, I have learned that Huguenots are not beasts with hornsand hoofs; but, possibly, brave and honourable men enough, as good, forthis world, as their neighbours. And yet--the disgrace!" His darkcheek flushed, then grew pale, as there rose before his mind's eye anappalling vision--his brother robed in a hideous sanbenito, bearing atorch in the ghastly procession of an _auto-da-fe_! "You have kept yoursecret as your life? My uncle and his family suspect nothing?" he askedanxiously.
"Nothing, thank God."
"And who taught you this accursed--these doctrines?"
Carlos briefly told the story of his first acquaintance with the SpanishNew Testament; suppressing, however, all mention of the personal sorrowthat had made its teaching so precious to him; nor did he think itexpedient to give the name of Juliano Hernandez.
"The Church may need reform. I am sure she does," Juan candidlyadmitted. "But Carlos, my brother," he added, while the expression ofhis face softened gradually into mournful, pitying tenderness, "littlebrother, in old times so gentle, so timid, hast thou dreamed--of theperil? I speak not now of the disgrace--God wot that is hard enough tothink of--hard enough," he repeated bitterly. "But the peril?"
Carlos was silent; his hands were clasped, his eyes raised upwards, fullof thought, perhaps of prayer.
"What is that on thy hand?" asked Juan, with a sudden change of tone."Blood? The Sieur de Ramenais' diamond ring has hurt thee."
Carlos glanced at the little wound, and smiled. "I never felt it," hesaid, "so glad was my heart, Ruy, for that brave grasp of faithfulbrotherhood." And there was a strange light in his eye as he added,"Perchance it may be thus with me, if Christ indeed should call me tosuffer. Weak as I am, he can give, even to me, such blessed assuranceof his love, that in the joy of it pain and fear shall be unfelt, orvanish."
Juan could not understand him, but he was awed and impressed. He had noheart for many words. He rose and walked towards the gate of themonastery grounds, slowly and in silence, Carlos accompanying him. Whenthey had nearly reached the spot where they were to part, Carlos said,"You have heard Fray Constantino, as I asked you?"
"Yes, and I greatly admire him."
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"He teaches God's truth."
"Why can you not rest content with his teaching, then, instead of goingto look for better bread than wheaten, Heaven knows where?"
"When I return to the city next week I will explain all to thee."
"I hope so. In the meantime, adios." He strode on a pace or two, thenturned back to say, "Thou and I, Carlos, we will stand together againstthe world."
The Spanish Brothers: A Tale of the Sixteenth Century Page 17
