The Spanish Brothers: A Tale of the Sixteenth Century
Page 45
XLV.
Triumphant.
"For ever with the Lord! Amen! to let it be!"--Montgomery.
Carlos was still sitting beside that couch, with scarcely more sense oftime than if he had been already where time exists no longer, when thedoor of his cell was opened to admit two distinguished visitors. Firstcame the prior; then another member of the Table of the Inquisition.
Carlos rose up from beside his dead, and said calmly, addressing theprior, "My father is free!"
"How? what is this?" cried Fray Ricardo, his brow contracting withsurprise.
Carlos stood aside, allowing him to approach and look. With real concernin his stern countenance, he stooped for a few moments over themotionless form. Then he asked,--
"But why was I not summoned? Who was with him when he departed?"
"I,--his son," said Carlos.
"But who besides thee?" Then, in a higher key, and with more hurriedintonation,--"Who gave him the last rites of the Church?"
"He did not receive them, my lord, for he did not desire them. He saidthat Christ was his priest; that he would not confess; and that theyshould not anoint him while he retained consciousness."
The Dominican's face grew white with anger, even to the lips.
"_Liar!_" he cried, in a voice of thunder. "How darest thou tell methat he for whom I watched, and prayed, and toiled, after years andyears of faithful penance, has gone down at last, unanointed andunassoiled, to hell with Luther and Calvin?"
"I tell thee that he has gone home in peace to his Father's house."
"Blasphemer! liar, like thy father the devil! But I understand all now.Thou, in thy hatred of the Faith, didst refuse to summon help--didst lethis spirit pass without the aid and consolations of the Church.Murderer of his soul--thy father's soul! Not content even with that,thou canst stand there and slander his memory, bidding us believe thathe died in heresy! But that, at least, is false--false as thine ownaccursed creed!"
"It is true; and you believe it," said Carlos, in calm, clear, quiettones, that contrasted strangely with the Dominican's outburst ofunwonted rage.
And the prior did believe it--there was the sharpest sting. He knewperfectly well that the condemned heretic was incapable of falsehood: ona matter of fact he would have received his testimony more readily thanthat of the stately "Lord Inquisitor" now standing by his side. In themomentary pause that followed, that personage came forward and lookedupon the face of the dead.
"If there be really any proof that he died in heresy," he said, "heought to be proceeded against according to the laws of the Holy Officeprovided for such cases."
Carlos smiled--smiled in calm triumph.
"You cannot hurt him now," he said. "Look there, senor. The Kingimmortal, invisible, has set his own signet upon that brow, that thedecree may not be reversed nor the purpose changed concerning him."
And the peace of the dead face seemed to have passed into the livingface that had gazed on it so long. Carlos was as really beyond thepower of his enemies as his father was that hour. They felt it; or atleast one of them did. As for the other, his strong heart was torn withrage and sorrow: sorrow for the penitent, whom he truly loved, and whomhe now believed, after all his prayers and efforts, a lost soul; rageagainst the obstinate heretic, whom he had sought to befriend, and whohad repaid his kindness by snatching his convert from his grasp at thevery gate of heaven, and plunging him into hell.
"I will _not_ believe it," he reiterated, with pale lips, and eyes thatgleamed beneath his cowl like coals of fire. Then, softening a littleas he turned to the dead--"Would that those silent lips could utter,were it only one word, to say that death found thee true to the Catholicfaith!--Not one word! So end the hopes of years. But at least thybetrayer shall be with thee amongst the dead to-morrow.--Heretic!" hesaid, turning fiercely to Carlos, "we are here to announce thy doom. Icame, with a heart full of pity and relenting, to offer counsel andcomfort, and such mercy as Holy Church still keeps for those who returnto her bosom at the eleventh hour. But now, I despair of thee.Professed, impenitent, dogmatizing heretic, go thine own way toeverlasting fire!"
"To-morrow! Did you say to-morrow?" asked Carlos, standing motionless,as one lost in thought.
The other Inquisitor took up the word.
"It is true," he said. "To-morrow the Church offers to God theacceptable sacrifice of a solemn Act of Faith. And we come to announceto thee thy sentence, well merited and long delayed--to be relaxed tothe secular arm as an obstinate heretic. But if even yet thou wiltrepent, and, confessing and deploring thy sins, supplicate restorationto the bosom of the Church, she will so effectually intercede for theewith the civil magistrate that the doom of fire will be exchanged forthe milder punishment of death by strangling."
Something like a faint smile played round the lips of Carlos; but heonly repeated, "To-morrow!"
"Yes, my son," said the Inquisitor, promptly; for he was a man who knewhis business well. He had come there to improve the occasion; and hemeant to do it. "No doubt it seems to thee a sudden blow, and but abrief space left thee for preparation. But, at the best, our life hereis only a span; 'Man that is born of a woman hath but a short time tolive, and is full of misery.'"
Carlos did not look as if he heard; he still stood lost in thought, hishead sunk upon his breast. But in another moment he raised it suddenly.
"To-morrow I shall be with Christ in glory!" he exclaimed, with acountenance as radiant as if that glory were already reflected there.
Some faint feeling of awe and wonder touched the Inquisitor's heart, andsilenced him for an instant. Then, recovering himself, and falling backfor help upon wonted words of course, he said,--
"I entreat of you to think of your soul."
"I have thought of it long ago. I have given it into the safe keepingof Christ my Lord. Therefore I think no more of it; I only think ofhim."
"But have you no fear of the anguish--the doom of fire?"
"I have no fear," Carlos answered. And this was a great mystery, evento himself. "Christ's hand will either lift me over it or sustain methrough it; which, I know not yet. And I am not careful; he will care."
"Men of noble lineage, such as you are--of high honour and stainlessname, such as you _were_," said the Inquisitor--"ofttimes dread shamemore than agony. You, who were called Alvarez de Menaya, what think youof the infamy, the loathing of all men, the scorn and mockery of thelowest rabble--the zamarra, the carroza?"
"I shall joyfully go forth with Him without the camp, bearing hisreproach."
"And stand at the stake beside a vile caitiff, a miserable muleteer,convicted of the same crimes?"
"A muleteer? Juliano Hernandez?" Carlos questioned eagerly.
"The same."
A softer light played over the features of Carlos. Then he should seethat face once more--perhaps even grasp that hand! Truly God was givinghim everything he desired of him. He said,--
"I am glad to stand, here to the last, at the side of that faithfulsoldier and servant of Christ. For when we go in there together, I darenot hope to be so highly honoured as to take a place beside him."
At this point the prior broke in. "Senor and my brother, your words arewasted. He is given over to the power of the evil one. Let us leavehim." And drawing his mantle round him, he turned to go, withoutlooking again towards Carlos.
But Carlos came forward. "Pardon me, my lord; I have a few words yet tosay to you;" and, stretching out his hand to detain him, heunconsciously touched his arm with it.
The prior flung it off with a gesture of angry scorn. There wascontamination in that touch. "I have heard too many words from yourlips already," he said.
"To-morrow night my lips will be dust, my voice silent for ever. So youmay well bear with me for a little while to-day."
"Speak then; but be brief."
"It gives me the last pang I think to know on earth, to part thus fromyou; fo
r you have shown me true kindness. I owe you, not forgiveness asan enemy, but gratitude as a sincere though mistaken friend. I shallpray for you--"
"An impenitent heretic's prayers--"
"Will do my lord the prior no harm; and there may come a day when hewill not be sorry he had them."
There was a short pause. "Have you anything else to say?" asked theprior rather more gently.
"Only one word, senor." He turned and looked at the dead. "I know youloved him well. You will deal gently with his dust, will you not? Agrave is not much to ask for him. You will give it; I trust you."
The stern set face relaxed a little before that pleading look. "It isyou who have sought to rob him of a grave," said the prior--"you whohave defamed him of heresy. But your testimony is invalid; and, as Ihave said, I believe you not."
With this declaration of purely official disbelief, he left the room.
His colleague lingered a moment. "You plead for the senseless dust thatcan neither feel nor suffer," he said; "you can pity that. How is ityou cannot pity yourself?"
"That which you destroy to-morrow is not myself. It is only my garment,my tent. Yet even over that Christ watches. He can raise it gloriousfrom the ashes of the Quemadero as easily as from the church where thebones of my fathers sleep. For I am his, soul and body--the purchase ofhis blood. And why should it be a marvel in your eyes that I rejoice togive my life for him who gave his own for me?"
"God grant thee even yet to die in his grace!" answered the Inquisitor,somewhat moved. "I do not despair of thee. I will pray for thee, andvisit thee again to-night." So saying, he hastened after the prior.
For a season Carlos sat motionless, his soul filled to overflowing witha calm, deep tide of awed and wondering joy. No room was there for anythought save one--"I shall see His face; I shall be with Him for ever."Over the Thing that lay between he could spring as joyously as a childmight leap across a brook to reach his father's outstretched hand.
At length his eye fell, perhaps by accident, on the little writing-bookwhich lay near. He drew it towards him, and having found out the placewhere the last entry was made, wrote rapidly beneath it,--
"To depart and to be with Christ is far better. My beloved father isgone to him in peace to-day. I too go in peace, though by a rougherpath, to-morrow. Surely goodness and mercy have followed me all thedays of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.
"CARLOS ALVAREZ DE SANTILLANOS Y MENAYA."
And with a strange consciousness that he had now signed his name for thelast time, he carefully affixed to it his own especial "rubrica," orsign-manual.
Then came one thought of earth--only one--the last. "God, in his greatmercy, grant that my brother may be far away! I would not that he sawmy face to-morrow. For the pain and the shame can be seen of all; whilethat which changes them to glory no man knoweth, save he that receivethit. But, wherever thou art, God bless thee, my Ruy!" And drawing thebook towards him again, he added, as if by a sudden impulse, to what hehad already written, "God bless thee, my Ruy!"
Soon afterwards the Alguazils arrived to conduct him back to the Triana.Then, turning to his dead once more, he kissed the pale forehead,saying, "Farewell, for a little while. Thou didst never taste death;nor shall I. Instead of thee and me, Christ drank that cup."
And then, for the second time, the gate of the Triana opened to receiveDon Carlos Alvarez. At sunrise next morning its gloomy portals wereunlocked, and he, with others, passed forth from beneath their shadow.Not to return again to that dark prison, there to linger out the slowand solitary hours of grief and pain. His warfare was accomplished, hisvictory was won. Long before the sun had arisen again upon the wearyblood-stained earth, a brighter sun arose for him who had done withearth. All his desire was granted, all his longings were fulfilled. Hesaw the face of Christ, and he was with Him for ever.