The Spanish Brothers: A Tale of the Sixteenth Century

by Deborah Alcock

  XXXI.

  Ministering Angels.

  "Thou wilt be near, and not forsake, To turn the bitter pool Into a bright and breezy lake, The throbbing brow to cool; Till, left awhile with Thee alone, The wilful heart be fain to own That he, by whom our bright hours shone, Our darkness best may rule."--Keble

  The overpowering heat of an Andalusian summer aggravated the physicalsufferings of the captives. And so did the scanty and unwholesomeprovisions, which were all that reached them through the hands of theavaricious Benevidio.

  But this last hardship was little felt by Carlos. Small as were therations he received, they usually proved more than enough for him;indeed, the coarse food sometimes lay almost untasted in his cell.

  One morning, however, to his extreme surprise, something was pushedthrough the grating in the lower part of his inner door, the outer doorbeing open, as was usual at that hour. The mysterious gift consisted ofwhite bread and good meat, of which he partook with mingled astonishmentand thankfulness. But the relief to the unvaried monotony of his life,and the occupation the little circumstance gave his thoughts, was muchmore to him than the welcome novelty of a wholesome meal.

  The act of charity was repeated often, indeed almost daily. Sometimesbread and meat, sometimes fruit--the large luscious grapes or purplefigs of that southern climate--were thus conveyed to him. Endless werethe speculations these gifts awakened in his mind. He longed todiscover his benefactor, not only to express his gratitude, but tosupplicate that the same favours might be extended to hisfellow-sufferers, especially to Juliano. Moreover, would not one sokindly disposed be willing to give him what he longed for far more thanmeat or drink--some word of tidings from the world without, or from hisdear imprisoned brethren?

  At first he suspected the under-gaoler, whose name was Herrera. Thisman was far more gentle and compassionate than Benevidio. Carlos oftenthought he would have shown him some kindness, or at least have spokento him, if he dared. But dire would have been the penalty even theslightest transgression of the prison rules would have entailed. Carlosnaturally feared to broach the matter, lest, if Herrera really hadnothing to do with it, the unknown benefactor might be betrayed.

  The same motive prevented his hazarding a question or exclamation at thetime the little gifts were thrust in. How could he tell who might bewithin hearing? If it were safe to speak, surely the person outsidewould try the experiment.

  It was generally very early in the morning, at the hour when the outerdoor was first opened, that the gifts came. Or, it delayed a littlelater, he would often notice something timid and even awkward in the waythey were pushed through the grating, and the approaching and retreatingfootsteps, for which he used to listen so eagerly, would be quick andlight, like those of a child.

  At last a day came, marked indeed with white in the dark chronicle ofprison life. Bread and meat were conveyed to him as usual; then therewas a low knock upon the door. Carlos, who was standing close to it,responded by an eager "_Chien es?_"

  "A friend. Kneel down, senor, and put your ear to the grating."

  The captive obeyed, and a woman's voice whispered, "Do not lose heart,your worship. Friends outside are thinking of you."

  "One friend is with me, even here," Carlos answered. "But," he added, "Ientreat of you to tell me your name, that I may know whom to thank forthe daily kindnesses which lighten my captivity."

  "I am only a poor woman, senor, the alcayde's servant. And what I havebrought you is your own, and but a small part of it."

  "My own! How?"

  "Robbed from you by my master, who defrauds and spoils the poorprisoners even of their necessary food. And if any one dares tocomplain to the Lords Inquisitors, he throws him into the Masmurra."

  "The--what?"

  "A deep, horrible cistern which he hath in his house." This was spokenin a still lower voice.

  Carlos was not yet sufficiently naturalized to horrors to repress ashudder. He said, "Then I fear it is at great risk to yourself that youshow kindness to me."

  "It is for the dear Lord's sake, senor."

  "Then _you_--you too--love his Name!" said Carlos, tears of joy startingto his eyes.

  "_Chiton_,[#] senor! _chiton_! But as far as a poor woman may, I dolove him," she added in a frightened whisper. "What I want now to tellyou is, that the noble lord, your brother--"

  [#] Hush.

  "My brother!" cried Carlos; "what of him? On, tell me, for Christ'sdear sake!"

  "Let your Excellency speak lower. We may be overheard. I know he hasseen my master once and again, and has given him much money to provideyour worship with good food and other conveniences, which he, however,not having the fear of God before his eyes--" The rest of the sentencedid not reach the ear of Carlos; but he could easily guess its import.

  "That is little matter," he said. "But oh, kind friend, if I could sendhim a message, were it only one word."

  Perhaps the wistful earnestness of his tone awakened latent motherinstincts in the poor woman's heart. She knew that he was very young;that he had lain there for dreary months alone, away from the brightworld into which he was just entering, and which was now shut to him forever.

  "I will do all I can for your Excellency," she said, in a tone thatbetrayed some emotion.

  "Then," said Carlos, "tell him it is well with me. 'The Lord is myshepherd'--all that psalm, bid him read it. But, above all things, sayunto him to leave this place--to fly to Germany or England. For I fear,I fear--no, do not tell him what I fear. Only implore of him to go.You promise?"

  "I promise, young sir, to do all I can. God comfort him and you."

  "And God reward you, brave and kind friend. But one word more, if itmay be without risk to you. Tell me of my dear fellow-prisoners.Especially of Dr. Cristobal Losada, Don Juan Ponce de Leon, FrayConstantino, and Juliano Hernandez, called Juliano El Chico."

  "I do not know anything of Fray Constantino. I think he is not here.The others you name have--_suffered_."

  "Not death!--surely not death!" said Carlos, in terror.

  "There be worse things than death, senor," the poor woman answered."Even my master, whose heart is iron, is astonished at the fortitude ofSenor Juliano. He fears nothing--seems to feel nothing. No tortureshave wrung from him a word that could harm any one."

  "God sustain him! Oh, my friend," Carlos went on with passionateearnestness, "if by any deed of kindness, such as you have shown me, youcould bring God's dear suffering servant so much comfort as a cup ofcold water, truly your reward would be rich in heaven. For the day willcome when that poor man will take his station in the court of the Kingof kings, and at the right hand of Christ, in great glory and majesty."

  "I know it, senor. I have tried--"

  Just then an approaching footstep made Carlos start; but the poor womansaid, "It is only the child, God bless her. But I must go, senor; forshe comes to tell me her father has arisen, and is making ready to beginhis daily rounds."

  "Her father! Does Benevidio's own child help you to comfort hisprisoners?"

  "Even so, thank the good God. I am her nurse. But I must not lingeranother moment. Adios, senor."

  "Vaya con Dios, good mother. And God repay your kindness, as he surelywill."

  And surely he did repay it; but not on earth, unless the honour of beingaccounted worthy to suffer shame and stripes and cruel imprisonment forhis sake be called a reward.[#]

  [#] The story of the gaoler's servant and his little daughter ishistorical.