CHAPTER LIII.
Two hours after night-fall, and while the Spaniards were still engagedin close battle with the besiegers, who, this night, seemed as if theirrage was never to be appeased, the cavalier Don Amador de Leste restedin his chamber, (the Moorish boy sitting dejected at his feet,) nowstarting up with cries of grief and impatience, as the continuedexplosions of artillery admonished him of the straits of his friends,and now, as these seemed to die away and be followed by silence, givinghis mind to other not less exciting thoughts, and questioning the pageof the events of the past day.
"Not now, not now,--ask me not _now_!" replied the page, with greatemotion to one of his demands; "for now can I think of naught but myfather. It is not his custom to leave me so long by night, even when thebattle continues. Heaven protect him! for at any moment, he may die; andwhat then am I, in this land, and among this people? Would to heaven wehad perished in Spain,--nay, in Barbary,--in the sea along with ourfriends; for, then, might we have died together!"
"Give not way to this passion," said the cavalier, with an attempt atconsolation, which drove not the gloom from his own countenance; "forthou knowest, that, whatever evil may happen to Abdalla, I will myselfbefriend thee."
"My father is slain!" cried Jacinto, wringing his hands, "or long sincewould he have been with us."
"If this be the case," said Amador, with grave benevolence, "and I willnot deny that Abdalla doth keep his life in constant jeopardy, itplainly shows, that I am bound to make a father's effort to protectthee, and thou to follow my counsels. Hark!" he exclaimed, as a furiouscannonade, seemingly of all the pieces shot off together, brought itsroar and its tremor to his prison-house,--"dost thou not hear howferocious is the combat, at this moment? Know, Jacinto, that everyexplosion seems like a petard fastened to and bursting upon mine ownbosom,--so very great are the shock and pang of mind with which, at suchtime, I bethink me of the condition of my countrymen. Much longer Icannot endure my captivity; I have resolved that it shall end, even, ifthat be needful, by the breach of my solemn vow; for, I am persuaded,the dishonour and compunction which must follow upon that, will be butlight, compared with the great ignominy of my present inactivity, andthe unspeakable remorse which rends my vitals, while submitting to it.But I can by no means escape, while thou art left alone to be my jailer;if I escape by force of arms, it shall be when thy father is here tooppose me. I counsel thee, however, as thinking, with thee, that Abdallamay be dead----"
Here Jacinto burst into the most bitter lamentations.
"Be not thus afflicted; for I speak to thee only of a possibility whichmay be feared, and not of a certainty to be mourned. What I mean is,that this possibility should be enough to release thee, as well asmyself, from this house; for if Abdalla be really deceased, it must beevident to thee, nothing could be more foolish, and even dangerous, thanto remain in it alone; seeing that, if we be not found out and murderedby the Mexicans, we must surely expect to be starved. Guided by thesounds of battle, we can easily find our way to the palace; and perhaps,by wrapping ourselves in some of these cotton curtains, we may make ourway through the herds of Mexicans, without notice, as being mistaken forsome of their fellow-combatants. Once arrived within earshot of thepalace, I have no fear but that we shall be very safe; and I pledge myvow to thee, that I will so faithfully guard thee on the way, that noweapon shall strike thee, that has not first pierced my own bosom."
The page clasped his hands, and regarded his master with looks in whichaffection struggled with despair.
"But if my father should live--oh, if my father should live! andreturning to this desolate house, should find that his child hasdeserted him!"
"If he live," said the cavalier, "then shall he know, that thou hasttaken the only step to preserve him from destruction, both temporal andeternal. I will not rest, till I have procured for him a free pardon; Iwill hold thee as a hostage, which, in addition to the assurance offorgiveness, will speedily bring him into the garrison: for, knowing hislove to thee, I know he cannot live without thee. Besides, I willobtain, for I will demand it, permission for him to return with thee toSpain; and if my knight consent, we will depart together; for now I amconvinced that heaven doth fight against us, even to upholding thegodless heathen. Let us therefore depart, making our trust in God, whowill cover us, this night, as with shields, to protect our weakness."
"Alas, alas!" cried the boy, faltering with grief and fear, "my lord issick and wounded, feeble and helpless."
"That I have not all the vigour, which, a few days since, was mine,"said the cavalier, snatching up his sword, and brandishing it, once ortwice, in the air, as if to make trial of his strength, "I cannot deny.Nevertheless, I am stronger than yesterday; and besides, while placinggreat reliance on the protection of heaven, I shall trust less to myweapon than to such disguises as it may be in our power to adopt. Withthese figured curtains wrapped about us, and, if there be any feathersabout the house, a bunch or two tied to our heads, I have no doubt, wecan delude the Mexican fighting men, and, in the tumult of battle, passthrough their ranks, entirely unmolested."
While the page hesitated and wept, visibly struggling between his wishesand his fears, there occurred a sudden interruption in the cannonade;and, in the dead silence that followed, both heard the sound of rapidfootsteps approaching the door, accompanied by smothered groans.
The page started--In an instant, the steps were heard in the passage,followed by a heavy sound, as of a man falling upon the floor.
"Oh God! my father! my poor father!" cried Jacinto, springing to thedoor.
He was arrested by the arm of the neophyte, who plainly distinguished,along with the groans that came from the passage, a noise as if thesufferer were struggling to his feet; and in a moment after, as hepushed aside the curtain, to go out himself, the slave Ayub, coveredwith blood, rushed by him into the apartment, and again fell prostrate.
"My father, Ayub! my father?" cried the page, kneeling at his side.
"Allah il Allah! praised be God, for now I am safe!" said the Morisco,raising on his arm, and, though his whole frame shook as in the ague ofdeath, regarding the pair with the greatest exultation. "I thought theyhad shot me through the liver with a bullet; but Allah be praised! 'twasnaught but an arrow. Help me up, noble senor--Eh? ay? Trim the taper alittle, and give me a morsel of drink."
"Thou sayest naught of my father, Ayub?" said Jacinto, eagerly and yetwith mortal fear,--for he knew by the gesture of Don Amador, as heceased his unavailing attempt to lift the wounded man, but more by thecountenance of Ayub himself, that he was a dying man.
"How can I speak without light?" cried the Moor, with a sort of chuckle."Trim the torch, trim the torch, and let me see where these boltheads berankling.--Praise be to Allah, for I thought myself a dead man!"
"Wilt thou not speak to me of my father?" exclaimed Jacinto, in agony.
"A brave night! a brave night!" muttered Ayub, fumbling at hisgarments--"Valiant unbelievers!--Praised be God--The Wali----"
"Ay, the Wali! the Wali, thy master!" cried Jacinto, his voice dwindlingto a hoarse and terrified whisper;--"my father, thy master, Ayub?"
"The Wali----Hah!" exclaimed the unbeliever, roused by the distantexplosions;--"At it yet, brave pagans? Roar, cannon! Shout, infidel!shout and whistle--shout, whistle, and kill!--Save me the Wali, save methe Wali!"
"Oh heaven, Ayub!--thou sayest nothing of him,--of my father!"
"They took him a prisoner--but we'll have him again!--Lelilee!Lelilee!--Strike fast, pagan!--A brave day for Granada!"
At these words, Jacinto seemed not less like to die than the fugitive.But as he neither fell to the floor, nor screamed, Don Amador still heldfast to Ayub, who was now struggling in the most fearful convulsions,and yet, strange to hear, still uttering broken expressions of joy.
"A prisoner, a prisoner!--A little drink, for the sake of Allah!" hecried, incoherently. "Ha, ha! one runs not so far with a bullet in theliver!--Now they are at it! now they are killing the great senores!now, they
murder 'em!--Great joy! a great sight for a Moor!great--great--great revenge!--Many days agone--Great--great revenge!says the Wali--They killed my mother--Great revenge--great--great--Oho!great revenge for Granada!"
With these accents on his lips, mingled with sounds of laughter, andhorrid contortions of countenance, the infidel Moor, (for such wasAyub,) sprang suddenly to his knees; and flinging abroad his arms, anduttering a yell of agony, fell back instantly upon the floor, quivered amoment, and then lay a disfigured corse.
"Dost thou see, Jacinto!" said Don Amador, taking the shivering boy bythe arm. "Ayub is dead, and thy father a prisoner. If thou wilt save thelife of Abdalla, the Wali, (I never before knew that Abdalla, thoughnoble, was of this dignity--but this shall help me to plead for him;)get thyself instantly in readiness, and let us begone."
The page turned a tearless countenance on his patron, and replied, witha tranquillity that seemed to come from desperation,--
"I will go with my lord, for I have no friend now but him,--I will gowith my lord, to look upon my father's dead body; for I know theSpaniards will not spare his life a moment,--I will go with mylord,--and would that I had gone sooner! for now, it is too late."
As Jacinto pronounced these words, he began to weep anew, thoughhearkening passively to the instructions of the cavalier.
"If thou canst find me any plumes," said Amador, "fetch them to mestraight; and if thou hast about the house, any Mexican garment, whichthou canst wear, haste thou to don it. As for myself, I will first arm,and then robe me in the tunic of this poor dead misbeliever. Be of goodheart, I charge thee--God will protect us."
"There are robes enough, both for my lord and me," said the sobbingboy,--"and shrouds too--It is too late.--But I can die with my lord!"
"Why, that is spoken with more valour than I thought thou hadst," saidthe cavalier. "But bring me the robes, without thinking of thy shrouds;and be very quick, for I must have thee to buckle some of these strapsof my jambeux."
The page took up a little taper that lay near the flambeau, and,shuddering as he passed by the body, instantly departed on his errand.
Calavar; or, The Knight of The Conquest, A Romance of Mexico Page 55