CHAPTER XXXI.
The day that followed after the flight of Abdoul-al-Sidi, beheld thearmy of Cortes crossing that ridge which extends like a mighty curtain,between the great volcano and the rugged Iztaccihuatl; and many a hardyveteran shivered with cold and discontent, as sharp gusts, whirling rainand snow from the inhospitable summits, prepared him for the contrast ofpeace and beauty which is unfolded to the traveller, when he looks downfrom the mountains to the verdant valley of Mexico. Even at the presentday, when the axe has destroyed the forest; when the gardens offlowers--the cultivation of which, with a degree of passionate affectionthat distinguished the Mexicans from other races, seemed to impart atinge of poetry to their character, and mellow their rougher traits withthe hues of romance,--when these flower gardens have vanished from theearth; when the lakes have receded and diminished, and, with them, thefair cities that once rose from their waters, leaving behind themstagnant pools and saline deserts; even now, under all thesedisadvantages, the prospect of this valley is of such peculiar andastonishing beauty as, perhaps, can be nowhere else equalled among thehaunts of men. The providence of the Spanish viceroys in constructing aroad more direct and more easy of passage, to the north of the greatmountains, has robbed travellers of the more spirit-stirring impressionswhich introduced them to the spectacle, when pursuing the ancienthighway of the Mexicans. It ascends among gloomy defiles, at theentrance of which stand, on either hand, like stupendous towers guardingthe gate of some Titan strong-hold, the two grandest pinnacles of theinterior. It conducts you among crags and ravines, among clouds andtempests, now sheltering you under a forest of oaks and pines, nowexposing you to the furious blasts that howl along the ridges. A fewdilapidated hamlets of Indians, if they occasionally break the solitude,destroy neither the grandeur nor solemnity of the path. You remember, onthis deserted highway, that you are treading in the steps of Cortes.
As the army proceeded, Don Amador, alive to every novelty, took noticethat, regularly, at short distances from each other, not excepting evenin the wildest and loneliest places, there were certain low and rude butstrong cabins of stone built by the wayside, but without inhabitants.These, he was told, were the houses that were always constructed by theMexican kings on such friendless routes, to shelter the exposedtraveller. He thought such benignant provision betokened some of thehumaner characteristics of civilization, and longed eagerly to makeacquaintance with those nobler institutions which might be presentedbelow. This desire was not the less urgent, that the frozen winds,penetrating his mailed armour, made him shiver like a coward on the backof his war-horse. He felt also much concern for his kinsman, who rode athis side with a visage even wanner and more wo-begone than ordinary. Butin the deep and death-like abstraction that invested his spirits, DonGabriel was as insensible to the assaults of the blast, as to thesolicitude of his friend. The page Jacinto, moreover, caused him nolittle thought; for the flight of his father, though this had exposedhim neither to the anger nor inquiries of Don Hernan, (who affected totreat the desertion of the Moors as an affair of little consequence,save to themselves,) had left the boy so dejected and spiritless, that,as he trudged along between the two cavaliers, he seemed to follow morewith the instinct of a jaded house-dog, than with the alacrity of afaithful servant. To the pity of his young master he returned but aforced gratitude, and to his benevolent counsel that he should ridebehind Lazaro, he rendered the oft-repeated excuse, 'Senor mio, I amafraid of horses; and 'tis better to walk than ride over these coldhills.'
"There is much wisdom in what thou sayest, as I begin now to perceive,"said Amador, dismounting and giving his steed to Lazaro: "'tis better tobe over-warm with marching on foot, than turned into an icicle onhorseback. My father!" he said, gently and affectionately, to Calavar,"wilt thou not descend, and warm thyself a little with exercise?" Butthe knight only replied with a melancholy and bewildered stare, whichconvinced the novice that entreaty and argument upon this subject, as,at present, upon all others, would be alike unavailing. Sighingtherefore, and, with a gesture, directing Baltasar to assume his stationat the side of Don Gabriel, he took the page by the hand, and removingto a little distance from the group as well as from all other persons,he walked on, entering into discourse with Jacinto.
"I do not marvel at thee, Jacinto," he said, "nor can I altogethercensure thee, for grieving thus at the flight of thy father. Nor will I,as was, last night, my resolve, reprimand thee for leaving me, contraryto my bidding, at the chamber of my good knight; for, besides findingthee in grief enough at present, I perceive thou wert instigated to thisdisobedience by anxiety for thy parent, which would have excused in theea greater fault. But let me ask thee, not so much as a master as afriend, two or three questions.--First, Jacinto," he continued, "artthou dissatisfied with thy service? or with thy master, who loves theeas well as myself?"
"Service--master!--Senor!" said the boy, confused.
"I demand of thee, art thou discontented with thy duties, or grieved byany unkindness which has been manifested to thee by thy master, or byany of us, who are his followers?"
"I cannot be discontented with my duties," said the boy, a littlecheerfully, for it was not possible long to withstand the benevolence ofhis patron;--"I cannot be discontented with my duties; for, in truth, itseems to me, there are none imposed upon me, except such as are promptedby my own fancies. I am very skilless in the customs of service, neverhaving been in service before; yet, senor, I like it so well, that withsuch masters, methinks, I could remain a contented servant to the end ofmy days. That is,--that is"--But here the page interrupted himselfabruptly. "As for any unkindness, I own with gratitude, I have neverreceived from my lord, from my master, nor from his people, any thingbut great favour, as well as forgiveness for all my faults."
"Thou answerest well," said the novice gravely. "I did not apprehendanybody could treat thee rudely, except Lazaro, who is a rough fellow inhis ways, and being in some sort a wit, is oft betrayed into sayingsharp things, in order that people may laugh at them. Nevertheless,Lazaro has a good heart; for which reason I pardon many of his freedoms;but, I vow to thee, though he is a brave soldier, and albeit it isopposed to all my feelings and principles to degrade a serving-man byblows, nevertheless, had I found him venting his wit upon thee, I shouldhave been tempted to strike him even with the hardest end of my lance."
"I never had a better friend than Lazaro," said the page, with a faintsmile; "and I love him well, for he affects my singing, and praises memore than anybody else. Then, as for Marco and Baltasar, though theydelight more in cleaning armour than listening to a lute;--and as forthe secretary, senor Lorenzo, who cares for nothing but tilting with anyone who will take the trouble to unhorse him,--they are all good-naturedto me, and they never scold me."
"This, then, being the case," said Amador, "and allowing thy first andmost natural obedience to be to thy father, rather than to a master, howdost thou excuse to thyself the intention of deserting the service ofthy friends, without demanding permission, or at least acquainting uswith thy desires."
"Senor!" exclaimed Jacinto, surprised and embarrassed.
"It is known to me, that such was thy resolution," said the cavalier,with gravity; "for it was so confessed to me, last night, by thy father.But, indeed, though I cannot avoid expressing my displeasure at suchintention, which seems to me both treacherous and ungrateful, I led theeaside less to scold thee, than to give thee intelligence of Abdalla, Imyself being, as I think, the last Christian that beheld him."
"Oh, senor! and he escaped unharmed?" cried the boy.
"Verily without either bruise or wound, save that which was made on hissoul, when I reproached him for deserting thee."
"I am deserted by all!" exclaimed Jacinto, clasping his hands.
"For the thousandth time, I tell thee, no!" said his patron: "And thyfather made it apparent to me he abandoned thee unwillingly; nor wouldhe leave me, though the pursuers were approaching fast, until he hadexacted of me the very superfluous vow, that I would give thee a do
ubleprotection from all wrong and injustice. Dry thy tears: I have alreadyobtained of Cortes a promise of full pardon for Abdalla, when he returnsto us, as doubtless he will, at Tenochtitlan."
"I hope so! I pray he may!" said Jacinto, hurriedly; "or what, oh! whatshall become of us!"
"I will have him sought out, and by-and-by take thee, and him along, toCuenza. 'Tis hard by to Granada."
The boy remained silent, and Amador continued:--
"Thy father also showed me, that it was thy faithful love, in remainingby my kinsman during a swoon, which prevented thee from escaping withhim. This, though it does not remove the fault of thy design, entirelyforces me to pardon it; and indeed, Abdalla did as much as acknowledgethou wert averse to the plan."
"Senor, I was: for though our degradation was great, I knew not how muchgreater it might be among the pagans."
"Degradation! dost thou talk of degradation! In good faith, thousurprisest me!"
"Senor," said the boy, proudly, "though you will deride such vanity inpoor barbarians of the desert, yet did we ever think ourselves, who hadalways been free and unenslaved, debased by servitude. At least, myfather thought so; and I myself, though speedily solaced by the kindnesswhich was shown me, could not but sometimes think it had been better tohave perished with my father in the sea, along with our unhappy people,than to remain as I was,--and as I am,--a _servant_ in the house of mymaster!"
"A silly boy art thou, Jacinto," said Amador, surveying him withsurprise: "for, first, thy office as the page of a most noble andrenowned knight, is such a one as would be coveted by any grandee's son,however noble, who aspired to the glory of arms and knighthood; and Iadmonish thee, that, had not his infirmity driven Don Gabriel from Spainentirely without the knowledge of his servants, thou shouldst have seenthe son of a very proud and lofty nobleman attending him in the veryquality which thou thinkest so degrading. I did myself, though verynearly related to him, and though sprung of such blood as acknowledgesnone superior, not even in the king that sits on the throne, enter firstinto his service in the same quality of page; and, trust me, I esteemedit great honour. In the second place, I marvel at thee, having alreadyconfessed that thy service is both light and pleasant."
"It is even so, senor," said the boy, meekly, "and I am not often sofoolish as to repent me. It was not because I thought so yesternight,but because my father bade me, that I strove to escape from it; for hewas in danger, or feared he was, and it was my duty to follow himwithout repining."
"I come now to ask thee another question," said the neophyte. "By whatgood fortune was it, that thou stumbledst upon my kinsman, among theruins of that profane pyramid?"
"It was there, senor, that the princes met us."
"Hah! Oh, then, thou wert plotting with my bold prince, hah! Faith, avery valiant pagan! and in no wise resembling the varlets of Cuba. Ifthou knowest aught of these men that may concern our leader to know, itwill be thy duty to report the same to him Jacinto, and that withoutdelay."
"Nothing, senor," said the page, hastily. "I discovered that my fatherwas to fly with the ambassadors; that he was to seek them at thepyramid; and it was there we found my master swooning."
"Didst thou see aught there that was remarkable, or in any wayinexplicable?"
"I saw my lord fainting, my father and the princes flying, and thesoldiers pursuing and shooting both with cross-bow and musket."
"'Tis already," said the cavalier, turning his eye askaunt to DonGabriel, "yet I know not by what revealment, whispered through the army,that my kinsman saw a spectre,--some devilish fiend, that, in the momentof his doubt, struck him to the earth!"
"Ay!" said Jacinto, turning towards the knight, and eyeing him with alook of horror; "he thought 'twas Zayda, whom he slew so barbarouslyamong the Alpujarras!"
The cavalier laid his hand upon Jacinto's shoulder, sternly,--
"What art thou saying?--what art thou thinking? Hast thou caught some ofthe silly fabrications of the soldiers? I warn thee to be guarded, whenthou speakest of thy master."
"He confessed it to me!" said the page, trembling but not at the angerof his patron. "He killed her with his own hands, when she screenedfrom his cruel rage her husband Alharef, his vowed and true friend!"
"Peace!--thou art mad!--'Twas the raving of his delirium.--There is nosuch being as Zayda."
"There is not, but there _was_," said Jacinto, mournfully.
"And how knowest thou that?" demanded Amador, quickly. "Thou speakest asif she had been thy kinswoman. Art thou indeed a conjuror? There is nodark and hidden story, with which thou dost not seem acquainted!"
"She was of my tribe," said Jacinto, mildly, though tremulously,returning the steadfast gaze of his patron: "I have heard my fatherspeak of her, for she was famous among the mountains. Often has herepeated to me her sorrowful story,--how she drew upon herself the angerof her tribe, by preserving their foe, and how their foe repaid herby--oh heaven! by murdering her! Often have I heard of Zayda; but I knewnot 'twas Calavar who killed her!"
"Can this be true?" said Amador, looking blankly towards his unconsciouskinsman. "Is it possible my father can have stained his soul with sofoul, so deadly, so fearful a crime! And he confessed it to thee? tothee, a boy so foolish and indiscreet that thou hast already babbled itto another?"
"I could not help speaking it _this_ time," said Jacinto, humbled at thereproach; "but if my lord will forgive me, I will never speak it more."
"I do forgive thee, Jacinto, as I hope heaven will my father. This thenis the sin unabsolved, the action of wrath, the memory of sorrow, thathas slain the peace of my kinsman? May heaven have pity on him, for ithas punished him with a life of misery. I forgive thee, Jacinto: speakof this no more; think of it no more; let it be forgotten--now and forever,--Amen!--I have but one more question to ask thee; and this I am,in part, driven to by thy admission of the most wondrous fact, that DonGabriel confessed to _thee_ his secret. Many of thine actions havefilled me with wonder; thy knowledge is, for thy years, inexplicable;and thou minglest with thy boyish simplicity the shrewdness of years.Dost thou truly obtain thy knowledge by the practice of those arts,which so many allow to be possessed by Botello?"
"Senor!" exclaimed the boy, startled by the abruptness of the question.
"Art thou, indeed, an enchanter, as Yacub charged thee to be?--Give meto understand, for it is fitting I should know."
The exceeding and earnest gravity with which the cavalier repeated thequestion, dispelled as well the grief as the fears of the page. He casthis eyes to the earth, but this action did not conceal the humour thatsparkled in them, while he replied,--
"If I were older, and had as much acquaintance with the people asBotello, I think I could prophesy as well as he; especially if my lordDon Hernan would now and then give me a hint or two concerning hisdesigns and expectations, such as, it has been whispered, he sometimesvouchsafes to Botello. I have no crystal-imp like him indeed, but Ipossess one consecrated gem that can call me up, at any time, a thousandvisions. It seems to me, too, that I can recall the dead; for once ortwice I have done it, though very much to my own marvelling."
"Thou art an enigma," said Don Amador. "What thou sayest of Botello,assures me the more of thy subtle and penetrating observation; what thousayest of thyself, seems to me a jest; and yet it hath a singularaccordance, as well with my own foolish fancies and the charges of thatMoorish menial, as with the events of the two last nights. Either thereis, indeed, something very supernatural in thy knowledge, or thedelirium of my kinsman is a disease of the blood, which is beginning toassail my own brain. God preserve me from madness! Hearken in thine ear,(and fear not to answer me:)--Hadst thou any thing to do with theraising of the phantom thou callest Zayda?--or is it the confusion of mysenses, that causes me to suspect thee of the agency?"
"Senor!" said the boy, in alarm, "you cannot think I was serious?"
"What didst thou mean, then, by acknowledging the possession of thatconsecrated and vision-raising jewel?"
"I meant," re
sponded the youth, sadly, "that, being a gift associatedwith all the joys of my happiest days, I never look at it, or pray overit, without being beset by recollections, which may well be calledvisions; for they are representations of things that have passed away."
"And the story of Leila?--Pho--'tis an absurdity!--I have heard that thecold which freezes men to death, begins by setting them to sleep. Sleepbrings dreams; and dreams are often most vivid and fantastical, beforewe have yet been wholly lost in slumber. Perhaps 'tis this most bitingand benumbing blast, that brings me such phantoms. Art thou not verycold?"
"Not very, senor: methinks we are descending; and now the winds are notso frigid as before."
"I would to heaven, for the sake of us all, that we were descended yetlower; for night approaches, and still we are stumbling among theseclouds, that seem to separate us from earth, without yet advancing usnearer to heaven."
While the cavalier was yet speaking, there came from the van of thearmy, very far in the distance, a shout of joy, that was caught up bythose who toiled in his neighbourhood, and continued by the squadronsthat brought up the rear, until finally lost among the echoes of remotecliffs. He pressed forward with the animation shared by his companions,and, still leading Jacinto, arrived, at last, at a place where themountain dipped downwards with so sudden and so precipitous a declivity,as to interpose no obstacle to the vision. The mists were rolling awayfrom his feet in huge wreaths, which gradually, as they became thinner,received and transmitted the rays of an evening sun, and were lighted upwith a golden and crimson radiance, glorious to behold, and increasingevery moment in splendour. As this superb curtain was parted from beforehim, as if by cords that went up to heaven, and surged voluminouslyaside, he looked over the heads of those that thronged the side of themountain beneath, and saw, stretching away like a picture touched by thehands of angels, the fair valley imbosomed among those romantic hills,whose shadows were stealing visibly over its western slopes, but leavingall the eastern portion dyed with the tints of sunset. The green plainsstudded with yet greener woodlands; the little mountains raising theirfairy-like crests; the lovely lakes, now gleaming like floods of moltensilver, where they stretched into the sunshine, and now vanishing away,in a shadowy expanse, under the gloom of the growing twilight; thestructures that rose, vaguely and obscurely, here from their verdantmargins, and there from their very bosom, as if floating on their placidwaters, seeming at one time to present the image of a city crowned withtowers and pinnacles, and then again broken by some agitation of theelement, or confused by some vapour swimming through the atmosphere,into the mere fragments and phantasms of edifices,--these, seen in thatuncertain and fading light, and at that misty and enchanting distance,unfolded such a spectacle of beauty and peace as plunged the neophyteinto a revery of rapture. The trembling of the page's hand, a deep sighthat breathed from his lips, recalled him to consciousness, withouthowever dispelling his delight.
"By the cross which I worship!" he cried, "it fills me with amazement,to think that this cursed and malefactious earth doth contain a spotthat is so much like to paradise! Now do I remember me of the words ofthe senor Gomez, that 'no man could conceive of heaven, till he hadlooked upon the valley of Mexico,'--an expression which, at that time, Iconsidered very absurd, and somewhat profane; yet, if I am not nowmistaken, I shall henceforth, doubtless, when figuring to my imaginationthe seats of bliss, begin by thinking of this very prospect."
"It is truly a fairer sight than any we saw in Florida, most noblesenor," said a voice hard by.
The cavalier turned, and with not less satisfaction than surprise, (forthe delight of the moment had greatly warmed his heart,) beheld, in theperson of the speaker, the master of the caravel.
"Oho! senor Capitan!" cried Don Amador, stretching out his hand to thebowing commander. "I vow, I am as much rejoiced to see thee, as if wehad been companions together in war. What brings thee hither to look onthese inimitable landscapes? Art thou come, to disprove thy accounts ofthe people of Tenochtitlan? I promise thee, I have heard certainstories, and seen certain sights, which greatly shake my faith in thyrepresentations.--What news dost thou bring me of my kinsman, theadmiral?"
"Senor," said the master, "the stars have a greater influence over ourdestinies, than have our desires. It seems to me, that that veryastonishing victory of the most noble and right valiant senor, DonHernan, at Zempoala, did utterly turn the brains of all the sailors inthe fleet: and his excellency the admiral having declared himself afriend to the conqueror, they were all straightway seized with such anambition to exchange the handspike for the halbert, and mine ownthirteen vagabonds among them, that, in an hour's time after the news,my good caravel was as well freed of men as ever I have known hercleared of rats, after a smoking of brimstone. So, perceiving the follyof remaining in her alone, and receiving the assurance from my knavesthat, if I went with them, I should be their captain, and his excellencyconsenting to the same, I forthwith armed myself with these rustyplates, (wherein you may see some of the dints battered by the reddevils of Florida,) and was converted into a soldier,--the captain ofthe smallest company in this goodly army, and perhaps the most cowardly;for never did I before hear men grumble with such profane discontent, asdid these same knaves, this very day, at the cold airs of the mountain.If they will fight, well; if they will not, and anybody else will, may Idie the death of a mule, if I will not make them; for one hath a betterand stronger command in an army than in a ship. Last night I came tothat great town they call Cholula, and was confirmed in my command bythe general.--His excellency, the admiral, bade me commend his love toyour worship; and hearing that you have enlisted his secretary into yourservice, sends, by me, a better suit of armour for the youth, and praysyour favour will have him in such keeping, that he shall be cured of hisfit of valour, without the absolute loss of life, or his right hand,which last would entirely unfit him for returning to his ancientduties,--as, by my faith! so would the former. But, by'r lady, mythoughts run somewhat a wool-gathering at this prospect; for I see veryclearly, 'tis a rich land here, that hath such admirable cities; and, Iam told, we shall have blows enow, by and by, with the varlets in thevalley. Nevertheless, I am ready to wager my soul against a cottonneck-piece, that, if these infidels have half the spirit of the savagesof Florida, we shall be beaten, and sent to heaven, Amen!--that is, forthe matter of heaven, and not the beating!"
"I applaud thy resolution, mine ancient friend," said the cavalier, "andmethinks thou art more vigorous, both of body and mind, on land thanthou wert at sea. I will, by and by, send the secretary to receive thearmour, and will not forget his excellency's bidding, as far as ispossible. But let us not, by conversation, distract our thoughts fromthis most lovely spectacle; for I perceive it will be soon enveloped indarkness; and how know we, we shall ever look upon it again?"
Thus terminating the interview, the neophyte, as he descended, watchedthe unchanging yet ever beautiful picture, till the sun buried himselfamong the mountains, and the shadows of night curtained it in obscurity.
Calavar; or, The Knight of The Conquest, A Romance of Mexico Page 33