by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER XIII
THE FESTA AT SEVILLE
"And now, Gerald, that you have made your arrangements for thesecond half of the plan, how are you going to set about the first?because you said that you intended to give Donna Inez the optionof flying with you or remaining with her father."
"So I do still. Before I make any attempt to carry her off I shallfirst learn whether she is willing to run the risks."
"But how are you going to set about it? You may be quite sure thatshe never goes outside the garden without having her duenna withher. If there is a chapel close by, doubtless she will go thereonce a day; and it seems to me that this would be the best chanceof speaking to her, for I do not see how you can possibly introduceyourself into the grounds."
"That would be quite out of the question, in daylight at any rate,Geoffrey. I do not suppose she ever goes beyond the terrace by thehouse. But if I could communicate with her she might slip out fora few minutes after dark, when the old lady happened to be takinga nap. The question is how to get a letter into her hands."
"I think I might manage that, Gerald. It is not likely that theduenna ever happened to notice me. I might therefore put on anysort of disguise as a beggar and take my place on the road as shegoes to chapel, and somehow or other get your note into her hand. Ihave heard Spanish girls are very quick at acting upon the smallestsign, and if I can manage to catch her eye for a moment she mayprobably be ingenious enough to afford me an opportunity of passingthe note to her."
"That might be done," Gerald agreed. "We will at once get disguises.I will dress myself as an old soldier, with one arm in a sling anda patch over my eye; you dress up in somewhat the same fashion asa sailor boy. It is about twelve miles from here to Ribaldo's place.We can walk that easily enough, dress ourselves up within a mileor two of the place, and then go on and reconnoitre the ground."
"I should advise you to write your note before you start; it may bethat some unexpected opportunity for handing it to her may presentitself."
"I will do that; but let us sally out first and pick up two suitsat some dealer in old clothes. There will be sure to be two orthree of these in the poorer quarter."
The disguises were procured without difficulty, and putting themin a small wallet they started before noon on their walk. In fourhours they reached the boundary of the Marquis of Ribaldo's estate.Going into a wood they assumed the disguises, packed their ownclothes in a wallet, and hid this away in a clump of bushes. Thenthey again started--Gerald Burke with his arm in a sling andGeoffrey limping along with the aid of a thick stick he had cut inthe wood.
On arriving at the village, a quarter of a mile from the gates ofthe mansion, they went into a small wine shop and called for twomeasures of the cheapest wine and a loaf of bread. Here they satfor some time, listening to the conversation of the peasants whofrequented the wine shop. Sometimes a question was asked of thewayfarers. Gerald replied, for his companion's Spanish althoughfluent was not good enough to pass as that of a native. He repliedto the question as to where they had received their hurts that theywere survivors of the Armada, and grumbled that it was hard indeedthat men who had fought in the Netherlands and had done their dutyto their country should be turned adrift to starve.
"We have enough to pay for our supper and a night's lodging," hesaid, "but where we are going to take our meal tomorrow is morethan I can say, unless we can meet with some charitable people."
"If you take your place by the roadside tomorrow morning," oneof the peasants said, "you may obtain charity from Donna Inez deRibaldo. She comes every morning to mass here; and they say she hasa kind heart, which is more than men give her father the marquisthe credit of possessing. We have not many poor round here, for atthis time of year all hands are employed in the vineyards, thereforethere is the more chance of your obtaining a little help."
"Thank you; I will take your advice," Gerald said. "I suppose sheis sure to come?"
"She is sure enough; she never misses when she is staying here."
That night the friends slept on a bundle of straw in an outhousebehind the wine shop, and arranged everything; and upon the followingmorning took their seats by the roadside near the village. Thebell of the chapel was already sounding, and in a few minutes theysaw two ladies approaching, followed at a very short distance bya serving man. They had agreed that the great patch over Gerald'seye aided by the false moustachios, so completely disguised hisappearance that they need have no fear of his being recognized; andit was therefore decided he should do the talking. As Donna Inezcame up he commenced calling out: "Have pity, gracious ladies, upontwo broken down soldiers. We have gone through all the dangers andhardships of the terrible voyage of the great Armada. We served inthe ship San Josef and are now broken down, and have no means ofearning our living."
Gerald had somewhat altered his natural voice while speaking, butGeoffrey was watching Donna Inez closely, and saw her start whenhe began to speak; and when he said they had been on board the SanJosef a flush of colour came across her face.
"We must relieve these poor men," she said to the duenna; "it ispitiful to see them in such a state."
"We know not that their tale is true," the duenna replied sharply."Every beggar in our days pretends to be a broken down soldier."
At this moment Donna Inez happened to glance at Geoffrey, whoraised his hand to his face and permitted a corner of a letter tobe momentarily seen.
"An impostor!" Gerald cried in a loud voice. "To think that I,suffering from my terrible wounds, should be taken as an impostor,"and with a hideous yell he tumbled down as if in a fit, and rolledover and over on the ground towards the duenna.
Seized with alarm at his approach, she turned and ran a few pacesbackward. As she did so Geoffrey stepped up to Inez and held outthe note, which she took and concealed instantly in her dress.
"There is nothing to be alarmed at," she cried to the duenna. "Thepoor man is doubtless in a fit. Here, my poor fellow, get aid foryour comrade," and taking out her purse she handed a dollar toGeoffrey, and then joining the duenna proceeded on her way.
Geoffrey knelt beside his prostrate companion and appeared to beendeavouring to restore him, until the ladies and their servantwere out of sight.
"That was well managed," Gerald Burke said, sitting up as soon asa turn of the road hid them from view. "Now we shall have our answertomorrow. Thank goodness there is no occasion for us to remain anylonger in these garments!"
They went to the wood and resumed their usual attire, and thenwalked to a large village some four miles away, and putting up atthe principal inn remained there until early the next morning; thenthey walked back to the village they had left on the previous dayand posted themselves in a thicket by the roadside, so that theycould see passersby without being themselves observed.
"My fate will soon be decided now," Gerald said. "Will she wear awhite flower or not?"
"I am pretty sure that she will," Geoffrey said. "She would nothave started and coloured when she recognized your voice if she didnot love you. I do not think you need be under much uneasiness onthat score."
In half an hour the ladies again came along, followed as beforeby their servants. Donna Inez wore a bunch of white flowers in herdress.
"There is my answer," Gerald said. "Thank heaven! she loves me, andis ready to fly with me, and will steal out some time after darkto meet me in the garden."
As there was no occasion for him to stay longer, Geoffrey returnedto the village where they slept the night before, and accountedfor his companion's absence by saying that he had been detainedon business and would probably not return until late at night, ashe would not be able to see the person with whom he had affairsto transact until late. It was past ten o'clock when Gerald Burkereturned.
"It is all arranged, Geoffrey. I hid in the garden close by theterrace as soon as it became dark. An hour later she came out andsauntered along the terrace until I softly called her name; thenshe came to me. She loves me with all her heart, and is ready toshare my
fate whatever it may be. Her father only two days ago hadordered her to prepare for her marriage with Don Philip, and shewas in despair until she recognized my voice yesterday morning. Sheis going with her father to a grand festa at Seville next Wednesday.They will stop there two nights--the one before the festa and theone after. I told her that I could not say yet whether I should makethe attempt to carry her off on her journey or after her returnhere, as that must depend upon circumstances. At any rate, thatgives us plenty of time to prepare our plans. Tomorrow we will hirehorses and ride to Seville, and I will there arrange with one ofmy friends at the Irish College to perform the ceremony. However,we will talk it all over tomorrow as we ride. I feel as sleepy asa dog now after the day's excitement."
Upon the road next day they agreed that if possible they would manageto get Inez away in Seville itself. Owing to the large number ofpeople who would be attracted there to witness the grand processionand high mass at the cathedral, the streets would be crowded, andit might be possible for Inez to slip away from those with her.If this could be managed it would be greatly preferable to theemployment of the men to carry her off by force. Therefore theyagreed that the band should be posted so that the party could beintercepted on its way back; but that this should be a last resource,and that if possible Inez should be carried off in Seville itself.
On reaching Seville they put up at an inn. Gerald at once proceededto the Irish College. Here he inquired for a young priest, who hadbeen a near neighbour of his in Ireland and a great friend of hisboyhood. He was, he knew, about to return home. He found that hewas at the moment away from Seville, having gone to supply the placeof a village cure who had been taken suddenly ill. This villagewas situated, he was told, some six miles southeast of the town.It was already late in the afternoon, but time was precious; andGerald, hiring a fresh horse, rode out at once to the village. Hisfriend was delighted to see him, for they had not met since Geraldpassed through Seville on his way to join the Armada at Cadiz, andthe young priest had not heard whether he had escaped the perilsof the voyage.
"It is lucky you have come, Gerald," he said when the first greetingswere over, "for I am going to return to Ireland in a fortnight'stime. I am already appointed to a charge near Cork, and am to sailin a Bristol ship which is expected in Cadiz about that time. Isthere any chance of my meeting you there?"
"An excellent chance, Denis, though my route is not as clearlymarked out as yours is. I wish to heaven that I could go by thesame ship. And that leads to what I have come to see you about,"and he then told his friend the service he wished him to render.
"It is rather a serious business, Gerald; and a nice scrape I shouldget in if it were found out that I had solemnized the marriage ofa young lady under age without the consent of her father, and thatfather a powerful nobleman. However, I am not the man to fail youat a pinch, and if matters are well managed there is not much riskof its being found out that I had a hand in it until I am wellaway, and once in Ireland no one is likely to make any great fussover my having united a runaway pair in Spain. Besides, if you andthe young lady have made up your minds to run away, it is evidentlynecessary that you should be married at once; so my conscience isperfectly clear in the business. And now, what is your plan?"
"The only part of my plan that is settled is to bring her here andmarry her. After that I shall have horses ready, and we will rideby unfrequented roads to Malaga or some other port and take apassage in a ship sailing say to Italy, for there is no chance ofgetting a vessel hence to England. Once in Italy there will be nodifficulty in getting a passage to England. I have with me a youngEnglishman, as staunch a friend as one can need. I need not tellyou all about how I became acquainted with him; but he is as anxiousto get out of Spain as I am, and that is saying no little."
"It seems rather a vague plan, Gerald. There is sure to be a greathue and cry as soon as the young lady is found to be missing. Themarquis is a man of great influence, and the authorities will useevery effort to enable him to discover her."
"You see, Denis, they will have no reason for supposing that I havehad any hand in the matter, and therefore no special watch willbe set at the ports. The duenna for her own sake is not likely tosay a word about any passages she may have observed between us atMadrid, and she is unaware that there have been any communicationswith her since."
"I suppose you will at once put on disguises, Gerald."
"Yes, that will of course be the first thing."
"If you dress her as a young peasant woman of the better class andyourself as a small cultivator, I will mention to my servant thatI am expecting my newly married niece and her husband to staywith me for a few days. The old woman will have no idea that I,an Irishman, would not have a Spanish niece, and indeed I do notsuppose that she has any idea that I am not a Spaniard. I will openthe church myself and perform the service late in the evening, sothat no one will be aware of what is going on. Of course I can putup your friend too. Then you can stay quietly here as long as youlike."
"That will do admirably, Denis; but I think we had best go on thenext morning," Gerald said, "although it will be a day or two beforethere is anything like an organized pursuit. It will be supposedthat she is in Seville, and inquiries will at first be confined tothat town. If she leaves a note behind saying that she is determinedeven to take the veil rather than marry the man her father haschosen for her, that will cause additional delay. It will be supposedthat she is concealed in the house of some friend, or that she hassought a refuge in a nunnery, and at any rate there is not likelyto be any search over the country for some days, especially as herfather will naturally be anxious that what he will consider an actof rebellion on the part of his daughter shall not become publiclyknown."
"All this, of course, is if we succeed in getting her clear awayduring the fete. If we have to fall back on the other plan I wastalking of and carry her off by force on the way home, the searchwill be immediate and general. In that case nothing could be betterthan your plan that we should stop here quietly for a few dayswith you. They will be searching for a band of robbers and willnot dream of making inquiry for the missing girl in a quiet villagelike this."
"Well, we will leave that open, Gerald. I shall let it be knownthat you are expected, and whenever you arrive you will be welcome."
As soon as the point was arranged Gerald again mounted his horseand returned to Seville. There upon the following morning he engageda lodging for the three days of the festa in a quiet house in theoutskirts of the town, and they then proceeded to purchase thevarious articles necessary for their disguise and that of Inez.The next morning they started on their return to Jeres. Here Geraldmade arrangements with the band to meet him in a wood on the roadto Cadiz at eight in the morning on the day following the terminationof the festa at Seville. One of the party was to proceed on that dayto the house among the hills they had fixed upon as their hidingplace, and to get provisions and everything requisite for thereception of their captive. They received another five crowns each,the remaining fifteen was to be paid them as soon as they arrivedwith their captive at the house.
The party remained in ignorance as to the age and sex of the personthey were to carry off, and had little curiosity as to the point,as they regarded this but a small adventure in comparison to thelucrative schemes in which they were afterwards to be sharers.
These arrangements made, Gerald and Geoffrey returned to Seville,and reached that city on the eve of the commencement of the festa,and took up their abode at the lodging they had hired. On thefollowing morning they posted themselves in the street by whichthe party they expected would arrive. Both were attired in quietcitizen dress, and Gerald retained his formidable moustachios andbushy eyebrows.
In two or three hours a coach accompanied by four lackeys on horsebackcame up the street, and they saw that it contained the Marquis ofRibaldo, his daughter, and her duenna. They followed a short distancebehind it until it entered the courtyard of a stately mansion,which they learnt on inquiry from a passerby belonged to t
he Dukeof Sottomayor. The streets were already crowded with people in holidayattire, the church bells were ringing, and flags and decorationsof all kinds waved along the route that was to be followed by thegreat procession. The house did not stand on this line, and itwas necessary therefore for its inmates to pass through the crowdeither to the cathedral or to the balcony of the house from whichthey might intend to view the procession pass.
Half an hour after the arrival of the coach, the marquis and hisdaughter, accompanied by Don Philip de Sottomayor, sallied out,escorted by six armed lackeys, and took their way towards thecathedral. They had, however, arrived very late, and the crowd hadalready gathered so densely that even the efforts of the lackeys andthe angry commands of the marquis and Don Philip failed to enablethem to make a passage. Very slowly indeed they advanced somedistance into the crowd, but each moment their progress becameslower. Gerald and Geoffrey had fallen in behind them and advancedwith them as they worked themselves in the crowd.
Angry at what they considered the impertinence of the peoplefor refusing to make way for them, the nobles pressed forward andengaged in an angry controversy with those in front, who urged,and truly, that it was simply impossible for them to make way, sowedged in were they by the people on all sides. The crowd, neitherknowing nor caring who were those who thus wished to take precedenceof the first comers, began to jeer and laugh at the angry nobles,and when these threatened to use force threatened in return.
As soon as her father had left her side, Gerald, who was immediatelybehind Inez, whispered in her ear, "Now is the time, Inez. Go withmy friend; I will occupy the old woman."
"Keep close to me, senora, and pretend that you are ill," Geoffreysaid, to her, and without hesitation Inez turned and followed him,drawing her mantilla more closely over her face.
"Let us pass, friends," Geoffrey said as he elbowed his way throughthose standing behind them, "the lady needs air," and by vigorousefforts he presently arrived at the outskirts of the crowd,and struck off with his charge in the direction of their lodging."Gerald Burke will follow us as soon as he can get out," he said."Everything is prepared for you, senora, and all arrangements made."
"Who are you, sir?" the girl asked. "I do not recall your face,and yet I seem to have seen it before."
"I am English, senora, and am a friend of Gerald Burke's. When inMadrid I was disguised as his servant; for as an Englishman and aheretic it would have gone hard with me had I been detected."
There were but few people in the streets through which they passed,the whole population having flocked either to the streets throughwhich the procession was to pass, or to the cathedral or churchesit was to visit on its way. Gerald had told Inez at their interviewthat, although he had made arrangements for carrying her off byforce on the journey to or from Seville, he should, if possible, takeadvantage of the crowd at the function to draw her away from hercompanions. She had, therefore, put on her thickest lace mantilla,and this now completely covered her face from the view of passersby.Several times she glanced back.
"Do not be uneasy about him, senora," Geoffrey said. "He will nottry to extricate himself from the crowd until you are discoveredto be missing, as to do so would be to attract attention. As soonas your loss is discovered he will make his way out, and will thencome on at the top of his speed to the place whither I am conductingyou, and I expect that we shall find him at the door awaiting us."
A quarter of an hour's walk took them to the lodging, and Inez gavea little cry of joy as the door was opened to them by Gerald himself.
"The people of the house are all out," he said, after their firstgreeting. "In that room you will find a peasant girl's dress. Dressyourself as quickly as you can; we shall be ready for you in attireto match. You had best do up your own things into a bundle, whichI will carry. If they were left here they might, when the news ofyour being missing gets abroad, afford a clue to the manner of yourescape. I will tell you all about the arrangements we have made aswe go along."
"Have you arranged--" and she hesitated.
"Yes, an Irish priest, who is an old friend of mine, will performthe ceremony this evening."
A few minutes later two seeming peasants and a peasant girl issuedout from the lodging. The two men carried stout sticks with bundlesslung over them.
"Be careful of that bundle," Inez said, "for there are all my jewelsin it. After what you had said I concealed them all about me. Theyare my fortune, you know. Now, tell me how you got on in the crowd."
"I first pushed rather roughly against the duenna, and then made themost profuse apologies, saying that it was shameful people shouldcrowd so, and that they ought at once to make way for a lady whowas evidently of high rank. This mollified her, and we talked forthree or four minutes; and in the meantime the row in front, causedby your father and the lackeys quarrelling with the people, grewlouder and louder. The old lady became much alarmed, and indeedthe crowd swayed about so that she clung to my arm. Suddenly shethought of you, and turning round gave a scream when she found youwere missing. 'What is the matter?' I asked anxiously. 'The younglady with me! She was here but an instant ago!' (She had forgottenyou for fully five minutes.) 'What can have become of her?'
"I suggested that no doubt you were close by, but had got separatedfrom her by the pressure of the crowd. However, she began tosquall so loudly that the marquis looked round. He was already ina towering rage, and he asked angrily, 'What are you making all thisnoise about?' and then looking round exclaimed, 'Where is Inez?''She was here a moment since!' the old lady exclaimed, 'and nowshe has got separated from me.' Your father looked in vain amongthe crowd, and demanded whether anyone had seen you. Someone saidthat a lady who was fainting had made her way out five minutesbefore. The marquis used some strong language to the old lady, andthen informed Don Philip what had happened, and made his way backout of the crowd with the aid of the lackeys, and is no doubtinquiring for you in all the houses near; but, as you may imagine,I did not wait. I followed close behind them until they were outof the crowd, and then slipped away, and once round the corner tookto my heels and made my way back, and got in two or three minutesbefore you arrived."
The two young men talked almost continuously during their walk tothe village in order to keep up the spirits of Donna Inez, and toprevent her from thinking of the strangeness of her position andthe perils that lay before them before safety could be obtained.Only once she spoke of the future.
"Is it true, Gerald, that there are always storms and rain in yourcountry, and that you never see the sun, for so some of those whowere in the Armada have told me?"
"It rains there sometimes, Inez, I am bound to admit; but itis often fine, and the sun never burns one up as it does here. Ipromise you you will like it, dear, when you once become accustomedto it."
"I do not think I shall," she said, shaking her head; "I am accustomedto the sun, you know. But I would rather be with you even in suchan island as they told me of than in Spain with Don Philip."
The village seemed absolutely deserted when they arrived there,the whole population having gone over to Seville to take part inthe great fete. Father Denis received his fair visitor with thegreatest kindness. "Here, Catherine," he cried to his old servant,"here are the visitors I told you I expected. It is well thatwe have the chambers prepared, and that we killed that capon thismorning."
That evening Gerald Burke and Inez de Ribaldo were married in thelittle church, Geoffrey Vickars being the only witness. The nextmorning there was a long consultation over their plans. "I couldbuy you a cart in the village and a pair of oxen, and you coulddrive to Malaga," the priest said, "but there would be a difficultyabout changing your disguises after you had entered the town. Ithink that the boldest plan will be the safest one. I should proposethat you should ride as a well to do trader to Malaga, with yourwife behind you on a pillion, and your friend here as your servant.Lost as your wife was in the crowd at the fete, it will be a longtime before the fact that she has fled will be realized. For a dayor two the search will be
conducted secretly, and only when thehouse of every friend whom she might have visited has been searchedwill the aid of the authorities be called in, and the poorer quarters,where she might have been carried by two or three ruffians who mayhave met her as she emerged in a fainting condition, as is supposed,from the crowd, be ransacked. I do not imagine that any search willbe made throughout the country round for a week at least, by whichtime you will have reached Malaga, and, if you have good fortune,be on board a ship."
This plan was finally agreed to. Gerald and his friend at once wentover to Seville and purchased the necessary dresses, together withtwo strong horses and equipments. It was evening before their returnto the village. Instead of entering it at once they rode on a milefurther, and fastened the horses up in a wood. Gerald would haveleft them there alone, but Geoffrey insisted on staying with themfor the night.
"I care nothing about sleeping in the open air, Gerald, and it wouldbe folly to risk the success of our enterprise upon the chance ofno one happening to come through the wood, and finding the animalsbefore you return in the morning. We had a hearty meal at Seville,and I shall do very well until morning."
Gerald and his wife took leave of the friendly priest at daybreakthe next morning, with the hope that they would very shortly meetin Ireland. They left the village before anyone was stirring.
The peasant clothes had been left behind them. Gerald carried twovalises, the one containing the garments in which Inez had fled,the other his own attire--Geoffrey having resumed the dress hehad formerly worn as his servant.
On arriving at the wood the party mounted, and at once proceeded ontheir journey. Four days' travel took them to Malaga, where theyarrived without any adventure whatever. Once or twice they metparties of rough looking men; but travelling as they did withoutbaggage animals, they did not appear promising subjects for robbery,and the determined appearance of master and man, each armed withsword and pistols, deterred the fellows from an attempt whichpromised more hard knocks than plunder.
After putting up at an inn in Malaga, Gerald went down at once tothe port to inquire for a vessel bound for Italy. There were threeor four such vessels in the harbour, and he had no difficulty inarranging for a passage to Naples for himself, his wife, and servant.The vessel was to sail on the following morning, and it was witha deep feeling of satisfaction and relief that they went on boardher, and an hour later were outside the port.
"It seems marvellous to me," Gerald said, as he looked back uponthe slowly receding town, "that I have managed to carry off myprize with so little difficulty. I had expected to meet with allsorts of dangers, and had I been the peaceful trader I looked, ourjourney could not be more uneventful."
"Perhaps you are beginning to think that the prize is not so veryvaluable after all," Inez said, "since you have won it so easily."
"I have not begun to think so yet," Gerald laughed happily. "At anyrate I shall wait until I get you home before such ideas begin tooccur to me."
"Directly I get to Ireland," Inez said, "I shall write to my fatherand tell him that I am married to you, and that I should neverhave run away had he not insisted on my marrying a man I hated. Ishall, of course, beg him to forgive me; but I fear he never will."
"We must hope that he will, Inez, and that he will ask you to comeback to Spain sometimes. I do not care for myself, you know, foras I have told you my estate in Ireland is amply large enough formy wants; but I shall be glad, for your sake, that you should bereconciled to him."
Inez shook her head.
"You do not know my father, Gerald. I would never go back to Spainagain--not if he promised to give me his whole fortune. My fathernever forgives; and were he to entice me back to Spain, it would beonly to shut me up and to obtain a dispensation from Rome annullingthe marriage, which he would have no difficulty in doing. No, youhave got me, and will have to keep me for good. I shall never returnto Spain, never. Possibly when my father hears from me he may sendme over money to make me think he has forgiven me, and to induceme some day or other to come back to visit him, and so get me intohis power again; but that, Gerald, he shall never do."