Calavar; or, The Knight of The Conquest, A Romance of Mexico

by Robert Montgomery Bird

  CHAPTER XVI.

  The sun was declining fast, when the travellers made their way to thecamp of Cortes. The River of Canoes ran through a fertile valley; butthis was of no great extent, and towards its upper termination, thescene of the events of the day, it was arid and broken with rocks.Immediately beyond the river, in a place made strong by rocks andbushes, impenetrable to cavalry, and affording the safest covert to hisarquebusiers and crossbowmen, the wary rival of Narvaez had pitched hisquarters. Temporary huts of boughs and fresh-woven mats were seenwithering among the green shadows, and from these ascended the smoke offires, at which the soldiers were dressing their evening meal. But inadvance of this primitive encampment, dripping with rain like theircommanders, yet standing to their arms with a patient and graveconstancy, as if still in readiness for an enemy, Don Amador beheld theforces of Cortes. They had a weather-beaten and veteran appearance; mostof them were apparelled in the escaupil, cut in separate piecesresembling cumbrous plate-armour, and occasionally so hacked by theweapons of the natives, that the white lining gaped out somewhatludicrously from its darker covering. Those arrayed in a betterinvestment, had their morions and breast-plates commonly covered withrust, as if kept too much occupied with perils by night and day to allowleisure for burnishing them. Nevertheless, they looked like disciplinedand experienced soldiers. Amador observed that few of them hadfire-arms; the cross-bow, the sword, and the great lance of Chinantla,with its long double head of bright copper, were almost their only arms;but they handled them as if well acquainted with their value. Behindthis advanced guard, under the shelter of the rocks and bushes, heremarked several officers, a few of them mounted, as well as diversgroups of Indian menials; and, as his ear caught a low exclamation fromthe general, he turned his eyes, and beheld the object of his long andpainful search.

  Under the shadow of a tall tree, remote from the rest, and attended onlyby a single armed follower,--on a coal-black horse, heavily harnessed,which stood under his weight with a tranquillity as marble-like as hisown, sat the knight of Calavar. He was in full armour, but the ironplates were rusted on his body, and in many places shattered. The plumeswere broken and disordered on his helmet; the spear lay at the feet ofhis steed; his buckler was in the hands of his attendant; and instead ofthe red tabard which was worn in a season of war by the brothers of hisorder, the black mantle of peace, with its great white cross, hung ordrooped heavily from his shoulders. His beaver was up, and hiscountenance, wan and even ghastly, was fully revealed. The ravages of anuntimely age were imprinted upon his aspect; yet, notwithstanding thehollow cheeks and grizzled beard, the brow furrowed with a thousandwrinkles, the lips colourless and contracted into an expression of deeppain, he presented the appearance of a ruin majestic in its decay. Hishands were clasped, and lay on the pommel of the saddle, and, togetherwith his whole attitude and air, indicated a state of the most profoundand sorrowful abstraction. In truth, he seemed the prey of thoughts,many and deep; and it scarcely needed the simple and touching legend,_Miserere mei, Deus!_ which usurped the place of a scutcheon or otherdevice on his shield, to know that if fame sat on his saddle, sorrowrested under his bosom.

  No sooner had the neophyte beheld this gloomy apparition, than, with aloud cry, he threw himself from his horse; and, rushing forward, heseized the relaxed hand of the figure, and pressed it to his lips withreverence and affection. But the knight, not yet roused from his revery,or struggling vainly with imperfect recollections, looked only into hisface with a wistful stare.

  "Patron and cousin! my friend and my father!" cried the novice,passionately, "do you not know me? I am Amador!"

  "Amador!" muttered the knight, with a troubled look and a tone ofperplexity. "Very well,--to-morrow--to-morrow!"

  "He will not understand you now," said the general. "He is often inthese trances."

  "Mi padre! mi amigo!" cried the youth, vehemently, without regarding theinterruption of the commander, "will you not know me? I am Amador!Look,--here is Baltasar, old Baltasar! your servant and favourite, thathas been at your side ever from the days of the Alpujarras to the fallof Rhodes."

  "The Alpujarras!" echoed the knight, with a deep sigh. "Wo isme!--miserere mei, Deus!"

  "He will recollect us _now_," said Baltasar, who had also descended, andwho testified his fidelity by a tear that glittered in his ancient eye."I never knew that word fail to call him out of his mood, though I haveoften known it fling him into one.--Master! I am Baltasar; and here isyour honour's kinsman, Don Amador!"

  "Ay! is it so indeed? I thought I was dreaming," said the knight: "Artthou here indeed, my son Amador? Give me thy brows, for I am rejoiced tofind thee in the world again." And stooping and flinging his arms roundhis neck, he kissed the forehead of the neophyte, with a parentalaffection.

  "This, my masters," said Cortes, in an under voice, "is not a spectaclefor us. Let us pass on, and arrange proceedings for the attack." And,with his suite, he instantly departed.

  "And how dost thou prosper at Almeria?" continued Calavar, mildly, andwithout any incoherence of manner, though it was evident his thoughtswere far away. "Hast thou found me any brave hearts, who will march withme against the infidels of Barbary?"

  "Dear knight and patron," said Amador, "we are not now in Spain, but inthe heathen lands of Mexico."

  "Ay! Dios mio, I had forgotten that!" said Don Gabriel, with abewildered air.

  "Whither I have come," said the novice, "to beg your pardon for mynegligence and desertion, and never more to part from your side."

  "I remember me now," said the knight, slowly and sadly. "Wo is me! asore infirmity is on my brain; and sometimes I am not master of my ownacts. But I remember thee, my friend: I remember that, in an evil hourof forgetfulness, I forsook thee, to come to this unknown land. But Ibeg thy pardon, my son;--the dark mood took me from thee, and in truth Iknew it not."

  The tears came into the eyes of Amador, as he listened to theself-accusation of his kinsman, and remembered how much the blame shouldrest on his own momentary defection.

  "It is _I_ that must bear the reproach, and _I_ that must look forforgiveness," he cried. "But I will never need to be rebuked or forgivenagain; for I swear, dear kinsman, I will follow thee truly now, until mydeath."

  "And thou hast left the fair hills of Spain, thy true friends, and thylady-love," said Calavar, with a mournful voice, "to follow me over thewide seas and the hostile deserts? I welcome thee with gratitude, forthy love is great, and thy task will be bitter. I welcome thee well,Amador, but surely it is with sorrow; for I heard thou hadst won thelove of a noble and virtuous lady; and heaven forbid I should not lamentto sever thee, in thy youth, from the enjoyment of thy affection."

  A flush of shame and pain mantled the countenance of the devoted novice,as he replied,--

  "I confess I have much need of thy forbearance, dear knight; but theydid me wrong, who said I could forget thee for the love of woman. Iacknowledge no duty that is not to thee, and no passion but that ofserving thee with constancy and truth. But I am sent to thee not more bythe impulses of my own love, than by the commands of his most eminenthighness, the Grand Master, who leaves it to thyself, as a well-belovedand much-trusted follower of the holy order, whether thou wilt remainfighting the infidels of this new world, or return at thy pleasure tothe island Malta, which his majesty the king and emperor, Don Carlos ofSpain and Austria, hath promised to bestow upon the good knights, thedefenders of Christendom."

  "Among the infidels of the new world, then," said Calavar, casting hiseyes meekly to heaven; "for I know that what poor service I may yetrender the faith, must be rendered soon; and if God uphold me, I willrender it truly and well. But thou, Amador my son, my faithful and mybeloved! I adjure thee that, when my task is finished, thou return tothe land of thy birth, and give thyself to a life of virtue, and, ifpossible, of peace. Watch well the creatures that are in thy breast, foramong them are devils, which, if thou do not chain them, will rend thee.Check thy wrath, fetter thy fury," continued the knight, vehemently;
"and when thou drawest thy sword, call on God, that it may not fallunjustly; for when blood is shed that should not have been shed, itlives on the soul for ever--Ay de mi! Miserere mei, Deus!"

  Don Amador feared, as he listened with a superstitious reverence to theadjurations of the knight, that he was about to relapse into his gloomystupor; but he was deceived. The lips of Calavar muttered on for amoment, as if continuing to repeat the solemn and impassioned appeal ofthe psalmist: and then, making the sign of the cross on his breast, heturned again to the novice with a kind of dismal cheer, and said:--

  "I welcome thee again to this land, Amador. And Baltasar--What now,Baltasar? is it possible I should forget thee? I am glad to look uponthy loyal countenance; thine old friend Marco will rejoice to fightagain at thy side.--If I do not err, this is thy henchman, Lazaro:--Igreet thee well, Lazaro: be very true to thy master, and forget not thyreligion. And this youth that rests behind thee--if he be thy follower,my son, he shall share thy welcome."

  "I recommend the youth Fabueno to thy kindness," said Amador, wellpleased to perceive his kinsman so collected. "He is the secretary ofthe admiral Cavallero, who claims to be related to your honour, andsends you the assurance of his love. I have been constrained, withoutyet knowing the pleasure of his excellency, to receive the youth intomy protection; and this I did the more cheerfully, that he was myfellow-sufferer in the camp of Narvaez, and did, for my sake, verycourageously expose himself to the painful shot of a cross-bow, whichnow maims his right arm."

  "If he have suffered for thee, my friend, I will not forget him," saidthe knight; "and I am rejoiced for his sake that now, in this season ofpeace, we may cure his wound before we call upon him to endure another."

  The countenance of Don Amador fell; he thought the knight's dream ofpeace denoted that he was sinking again into abstraction.

  "Call this not the season of peace," he cried. "The commander Cortes isresolute to fall upon his enemy, Narvaez, the enemy of honour; and itneeds we should burnish up our arms, to give him help."

  Calavar looked seriously at the youth, and touching his black mantlewith an expressive gesture, said:--

  "It is the time of peace, my son,--the time of peace for those thatfollow the good St. John. I remember me now, that Cortes came down fromthe mountains, to fight the man Narvaez and his host: but these are notinfidels, but Christians."

  "Cousin," said the cavalier, warmly, "though this man have the name, yetdo I very much doubt if he possess any of the religion of a Christian;and I have to assure you, I have endured such causeless indignities athis hands, such as direct insult, violent seizure, and shamefulimprisonment, as can only be washed away with his blood."

  "Wo's me! wo's me!" cried the knight: "the blood that is poured inanger, will not flow like water; it will not dry like water; nor willwater, though blessed by the holy priest in the church, wash its crustfrom the hand! Thou seest," he cried, extending his gauntleted member,and gazing piteously into the face of his heated kinsman--"thou seest,that though, for thrice five years, I have washed it in brook and font,in the river that flows from the land of the Cross, and in the brine ofthe sea, it oozes still from between the scales, like a well that musttrickle for ever, and will not be hidden.--Thou art very wroth with me,heaven!--Miserere mei, Domine!"

  Don Amador was greatly shocked and grieved, that his imprudent obstinacyhad so nearly again recalled the distraction of his kinsman. But itneeded not many expressions of gentleness and submission, to divert thecurrent of his thoughts. The appearance of the young and devotedfollower had come to the spirit of the penitent knight, like a coolbreeze over the temples of a fevered man; and having once been rousedfrom his gloom, he could not be long insensible to the excitement of hispresence. He cast an eye of kindness and affection on the youth, andobeying, as one who had been long accustomed to such control, the humblesuggestion of Marco, he turned to the tents of the encampment.

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