CHAPTER XVII.
The 20th of March--a day never to be forgot!
I have seen Mr. Rivers. It is the first time since that night--ninemonths ago. I have seen him and spoken with him in the presence ofMelinza, Dona Orosia, and the Governor.
Whatever may befall us now, nothing can take away the memory of thislast hour. If ever we leave these walls together and taste freedomagain, it will have been dearly bought. A maid's truth tarnished, andthe brave heart of a most loyal gentleman robbed of its faith! Dear God,what a price to pay!
'Twas noon when Dona Orosia came herself to fetch me.
"There is some deviltry afoot," she said. "I cannot fathom it as yet;but, as you hope for freedom for yourself and your Englishman, don'tfail to play your part to the end. Come quickly! Melinza demands to seeyou, and the Governor permits it. Don't blame me, child--I can donothing to prevent it. But, I warn you, act the part, whatever it maycost you."
I followed her, as in a dream, along the corridor, into the room wherethe old Governor sat in his arm-chair beside a carved table, whereonwere a decanter of wine, glasses half drained, and a litter ofplaying-cards. He drummed upon the table with his withered fingers, andlooked uneasily, first at his wife's flushed face as she entered thedoor, and then at the determined countenance of Melinza, who wasstanding before the heavy arras which divided that room from another inthe rear.
"Dona Margarita," said the Governor, clearing his throat nervously, "isit so that you are detained within my house against your will?"
"Your Excellency," I began, and was thankful I could speak truth, "I,and all the other English, have been held here in San Augustin for manya long month against our will."
"Without the orders of the Spanish Council I could not liberate you,senorita; though now we purpose to do so, having authority. Butconcerning yourself--Melinza assures me that you do not desire to besent with your countrymen."
I felt my heart grow cold. Must I still cling to the lie? I looked atDona Orosia, whose black eyes flashed a warning.
"That is true, Senor de Colis," I said, and my voice sounded far off andstrange.
"You would wish to remain here as my guest and companion, Margarita,"said the Governor's wife in vehement tones.
I looked at her in wonder. What did they desire between them? My headswam, and I would have said Yes to her also; but her black eyes menacedme again. I drew a deep breath and shook my head. "No, please yourExcellency."
Melinza smiled a slow triumphant smile. "Dona Orosia is unfortunate. Itrust I shall be more successful. You would rather go to Habana as _my_companion,--is it not so, Margarita mia?"--and he stepped forward andheld forth his hand to me.
One day in the early spring Dona Orosia had called me to see a new petwhich had been brought to her, a young crocodile, loathsome and hideous;and she had forced me to touch the tethered monster as it crawled, thelength of its chain, over the floor. I do remember the cold disgust Ifelt at the horrid contact; but it was as naught to the feeling thatpassed over me when I let the Spaniard take my hand.
He drew me toward him, laughing softly. "Who doubts that the lady goeswillingly?" and lifted his voice with a defiant question in its ringingtones.
"I do, senor!"--and it was my dear love who pushed aside the arras andcame forward into the room,--my dear love, wasted by fever and longimprisonment, white and gaunt and spectral, yet bearing himself with allhis olden dignity.
The Spaniard turned to meet him, holding me still within the circle ofhis arm. I gave one final glance at the Governor's wife and read my cue.After that I could see nothing but my love's white face.
"Have I lied to you, Senor Englishman? Do you believe, now, that I holdthat golden tress as a pledge of future favours? The lady on whose faithyou were ready to stake your soul is here to answer for herself, and shehas thrown in her lot with me--with me, senor."
"Margaret--Margaret!" cried my dear love, "tell him he lies,sweetheart!"
I opened my lips, but the words died on my tongue. Again my poor lovecried to me, holding out his arms. I saw his white face grow palerstill, and he swayed uncertainly where he stood. Then, gathering all hisstrength, he threw himself upon the Spaniard and would have torn usapart, had not his weak limbs given way, so that he fell prone upon thefloor.
Melinza's hand went to his sword; he drew the blade and held it to mydear love's throat.
"SPARE THE MAN, DON PEDRO! I LIKE NOT THE SIGHT OFBLOOD."--_Page 125._]
At last my voice came back to me; I laid my hand upon the Spaniard'sarm. "Spare the man, Don Pedro! I like not the sight of blood!"
Then I saw mortal agony in a brave man's eyes. He made no move to rise,but lay there at my feet and looked at me.
"Margaret Tudor," he said, "do you love me still?"
I looked down at him. If I spoke truth, Melinza's blade would soon cutshort his hearing of it. A wild laugh rose in my throat; I could nothold it back, and it rang out, merrily mad, in the silent room.
"Senores," I said, "Senores, I love a brave man, not a coward!" and thatwas truth, though none in that room read me aright, save Dona Orosia.
The man at my side laughed with me, and he at my feet gave me one lookand swooned away.
Melinza sheathed his sword, saying, "Your Excellency, the prisonerappears convinced; so you can scarce doubt the evidence yourself."
The Governor cleared his throat again, and glanced helplessly toward hiswife. She stepped forward with scornful composure and took my arm.
"Things are come to a pretty pass, Senor de Colis, when Don Pedro bringshis prisoners under this roof and your wife is made a witness to abrawl. I crave your leave to withdraw; and I take this girl with me tillthe question of her guardianship is settled." Then, still holding me bythe arm, she left the room; and neither of the two men ventured to stopour progress.
Arrived at my chamber Dona Orosia opened the door and thrust me in,bidding me draw the bolt securely.
I was left alone with my thoughts. Such thoughts as they are! I cannotweep; my eyes are hot and dry. There is no grief like unto this. Oh, mymother! when your beloved clasped you to his heart in that lastfarewell, there were between you thoughts of parting, of bodily pains tobe borne, of scourgings and fetters,--aye, and of death. But what werethose compared with what I have to bear, who am humbled in the sight ofmy dear love?
Margaret Tudor: A Romance of Old St. Augustine Page 17
