CHAPTER X.
"Yet was I calm. I knew the time My breast would thrill before thy look; But now, to tremble were a crime: We met, and not a nerve was shook."
BYRON.
The excitement of the city did not subside with the close of theprocession. The quiet gravity and impressive appearance of age, whichhad always marked Segovia, as a city more of the past than present,gave place to all the bustling animation peculiar to a provincialresidence of royalty. Its central position gave it advantages overValladolid, the usual seat of the monarchs of Castile and Leon, tosovereigns who were seeking the internal peace and prosperity of theirsubjects, and were resolved on reforming abuses in every quarter oftheir domains. The deputation from the city was graciously received;their offering--a golden vase filled with precious stones--accepted,and the seal put to their loyal excitement by receiving fromIsabella's own lips, the glad information that she had decided onmaking Segovia her residence for the ensuing year, and that shetrusted the loyalty which the good citizens of Segovia had so warmlyproffered would be proved, by their endeavors in their own householdsto reform the abuses which long years of misrule and misery hadengendered. She depended on them, her people, to aid her with heartand hand, and bade them remember, no individual was so insignificantas to remove his shoulder from the wheel on plea of uselessness. Shetrusted to her citizen subjects to raise the internal glory of herkingdom, as she did to her nobles to guard their safety, elevate herchivalry, and by their untarnished honor and stainless valor, presentan invincible front to foreign foes. Isabella knew human nature well;the citizens returned to their houses bound for ever to her service.
Don Luis Garcia had joined the train of Morales when he set forth tomeet the sovereigns. His extraordinary austerity and semblance oflowly piety, combined as they were with universal talent, had been somuch noised abroad as to reach the ears of Ferdinand and Isabella; andMorales, ever eager to promote the interests of a countryman, tookthe earliest opportunity of presenting him to them. He was graciouslyenough received: but, though neither spoke it, an indefinable feelingof disappointment took possession of their minds, the wherefore theyknew not. Don Luis had conversed well, both as to the matter andthe manner; but neither Ferdinand nor Isabella felt the smallestinclination to advance him to any post about themselves. In virtueof his supposed rank, however, he of course mingled with the courtlycrowd, which on the appointed evening thronged the mansion of DonFerdinand.
Tremblingly as Marie looked forward to that evening, she spared nopains to gratify her husband in the choice of her toilet. Sorrow hadnever made her indifferent, and she sought to please him even in themost trifling occurrences of life. Her beautiful hair still lay insoft, glossy bands against the delicate cheeks, and was gathered upbehind in a massive plait, forming, as it were, a diadem at the backof the exquisitely shaped head, from which fell a white veil--rather,perhaps, a half mantle, as it shaded the shoulders, not the face--ofsilver tissue, so delicately woven as to resemble lace, save in itsglittering material. A coronet of diamonds was wreathed in and outthe plait, removing all semblance of heaviness from the headgear, andcompletely divesting it of gaudiness. Her robe, of blue brocade, soclosely woven with silver threads as to glisten in the light of ahundred lamps almost like diamonds, had no ornament save the largepearls which looped up the loose sleeves above the elbow, buttonedthe bodice or jacket down the front, and richly embroidered the widecollar, which, thrown back, disclosed the wearer's delicate throat andbeautiful fall of the shoulders, more than her usual attire permittedto be visible. The tiny white silk slipper, embroidered in pearl, acollaret and bracelets of the same beautiful ornament, of very largesize, completed her costume.
Not even the presence of royalty could restrain the burst ofundisguised admiration which greeted Marie, as, led forward by hereager husband, she was presented to the sovereigns, and knelt to dothem homage. Ferdinand himself gazed on her a moment astonished; thenwith animated courtesy hastily raised her, and playfully chid themovement as unmeet from a hostess to her guests.
A strange moisture had risen to the eyes of the Queen as she firstbeheld Marie. It might have been that marvellous perfection of faceand form which caused the emotion; for if all perfection, even fromman's hand, is affecting even to tears, what must be the work of God?It might have been that on that young, sweet face, to the Queen'smental eye, a dim shadow from the formless realms of the futurehovered--that, stealing from that outward form of loveliness, shebeheld its twin sister, sorrow. Whatever it might have been, kind andgentle as Isabella's manner ever was, especially to her own sex, toMarie it was kinder and gentler still.
How false is the charge breathed from man's lips, that woman neveradmires woman!--that we are incapable of the lofty feeling ofadmiration of our own sex either for beautiful qualities or beauteousform! There is no object in creation more lovely, more fraught withintensest interest (if, indeed, we are not so wholly wrapt in thepetty world of self as to have none for such lofty sympathies) than ayoung girl standing on the threshold of a new existence; beautiful,innocent, and true; offspring as yet of joy and hope alone, butbefore whom stretches the dim vista of graver years, and the yearningthoughts, unspoken griefs, and buried feelings, which even in thehappiest career must still be woman's lot. There may be many who cansee no charm and feel no interest in girlhood's beauty: but not insuch is woman's best and holiest nature; and therefore not by suchshould she be judged.
"We will not chide thee, Senor, for thy jealous care of this mostprecious gem," said Isabella, addressing Don Ferdinand, while her eyefollowed Marie, who, re-assured by the Queen's manner, had conqueredher painful timidity, and was receiving and returning with easy graceand natural dignity the greetings and gallantries of her guests: "sheis too pure, too precious to meet the common eye, or breathe a courtlyatmosphere."
Don Ferdinand's eye glistened. "And yet I fear her not," he rejoined:"she is as true, as loving, as she is loved and lovely."
"I doubt it not: nay, 'tis the spotless purity of soul breathing inthat sweet face, which I would not behold tainted, by association withthose less pure. No: let her rest within the sanctuary of thy heartand hearth, Don Ferdinand. We do not command her constant attendanceon our person, as we had intended."
Conscious of the inexpressible relief which this assurance would be tohis wife, Morales eagerly and gratefully expressed his thanks; and theQueen passed on, rejoicing in the power of so easily conferring joy.
We may not linger on the splendor of this scene, or attemptdescription of the varied and picturesque groups filling the gorgeoussuite of rooms, pausing at times to admire the decorations of thedomed chamber, or passing to and fro in the hall of mirrors, gaylyreflected from the walls and pillars. The brilliant appearance of theextensive gardens; their sudden and dazzling illuminations as nightadvanced; their curious temples, and sparkling fountains sending upsheets of silver in the still air and darkening night, and falling inmyriads of diamonds on innumerable flowers, whose brilliant coloring,illuminated by small lamps, concealed beneath their foliage, shoneforth like gems; the groups of Moorish slaves, still as statues intheir various attitudes; the wild, barbaric music, startling, yetdelighting all who listened, and causing many an eager warrior tograsp his sword, longing even at such a moment to exchange thatsplendid scene for the clash and stir of war--we must leave all tothe imagination of our readers, and bid them follow us to the banquethall, where, summoned by the sound of the gong, the numerous guestssat down to tables, groaning beneath the profuse hospitality of theirhost, and the refined magnificence of the display.
All the warrior stirred the soul of the King, as, on taking his seatat the dais, he glanced round and beheld the glorious triumphs of hiscountry so strikingly portrayed. But Isabella saw but one picture,felt but one thought; and Marie never forgot the look she fixed on thebreathing portrait of Alfonso, nor the tone with which she inquired--
"Hadst thou ever a brother, Marie?"
"Never, royal Madam."
"Then thou can
st not enter into the deep love I bore yon princely boy,nor the feeling that picture brings. Marie, I would cast aside mycrown, descend my throne without one regretful murmur, could I buthold him to my heart once more, as I did the night he bade me his gladfarewell. It was for ever! Thy husband speaks of him sometimes?"
"Often, often, my gracious liege, till his lip has quivered and hiseye has glistened!"
Isabella pressed her hand, and with even more than her wontedgraciousness, turned to receive from the hand of her host the gemmedgoblet of wine, which, in accordance with established custom, DonFerdinand knelt down to present, having first drunk of it himself.
Inspiringly sounded the martial music during the continuance of thebanquet. Brightly sparkled the brimming goblets of the far-famedSpanish wine. Lightly round the table ran the gay laugh and gayerjest. Soft and sweet were the whispers of many a gallant cavalierto his fair companion; for, in compliment to Isabella, the nationalreserve of the daughters of Spain was in some degree laid aside and afree intercourse with their male companions permitted. Each, indeed,wore the veil, which could be thrown off, forming a mantle behind, ordrawn close to conceal every feature, as coquettish fancy willed; norwere the large fans wanting, with which the Spanish woman is said tohold as long and desperate a flirtation as the coquette of other landscan do with the assistance of voice and eye. Isabella's example had,however, already created reformation in her female train, andthe national levity and love of intrigue, had in a great degreediminished.
The animation of the scene was at its height when suddenly the musicceased, a single gong was heard to sound, and Alberic, the seniorpage, brought tidings of the arrival of new guests; and his master,with native courtesy, hastened down the hall to give them welcome.
Marie had not heard, or, perhaps, had not heeded the interruptionin the music; for, fascinated by the manner and conversation of theQueen, she had given herself up for the time wholly to its influence,to the forgetfulness even of her inward self. The sound of manyfootsteps and a rejoicing exclamation from the King, excited theattention at once of Isabella and her hostess. Marie glanced down thesplendid hall; and well was it for her that she was standing behindthe Queen's seat, and somewhat deep in shadow. Momentary as was all_visible_ emotion, its effect was such as must have caused remark andwonder had it been perceived: on herself, that casual glance, was asif she had received some invisibly dealt, yet fearful blow. Her brainreeled, her eyes swam, a fearful, stunning sound awoke within herears, and such failing of bodily power as compelled her, spite ofherself, to grasp the Queen's chair for support. But how mighty--howmarvellous is the power of _will_ and _mind_! In less than a minuteevery failing sense was recalled, every slackened nerve restrung, and,save in the deadly paleness of lip, as well as cheek, not a trace ofthat terrible conflict remained.
Aware that it was at a gay banquet he was to meet the King, ArthurStanley had arranged his dress with some care. We need onlyparticularize his sword, which was remarkable for its extremesimplicity, the hilt being of the basket shape, and instead of beinginlaid with precious stones, as was the general custom of this day,was composed merely of highly burnished steel. He had received it fromhis dying father: and it was his pride to preserve it unsullied, asit had descended to him. He heeded neither laughter at its uncouthplainness, nor even the malicious sneer as to the poor Englishman'sincapacity to purchase a handsomer one; rejecting every offer of areal Toledo, and declaring that he would prove both the strength andbrightness of English steel, so that none should gainsay it.
"Welcome, Don Arthur! welcome, Senor Stanley! By St. Francis, I shallnever learn thy native title, youth!" exclaimed the monarch, frankly,as he extended his hand, which Stanley knelt to salute. "Returned withfresher laurels, Stanley? Why, man, thou wilt make us thy debtor ingood earnest!"
"Nay, my gracious liege: that can never be!" replied Stanley,earnestly. "Grateful I am, indeed, when there is opportunity to evincefidelity and valor in your Grace's service; but believe me, where somuch has been and is received, not a life's devotion on my part canremove the impression, that I am the debtor still."
"I believe thee, boy! I do believe thee! I would mistrust myself ere Imistrusted thee. We will hear of thy doings to-morrow. Enough now toknow we are well satisfied with thy government in Sicily, and trustour native subject who succeeds thee will do his part as well. Away tothy seat, and rejoice that thou hast arrived ere this gay scene hasclosed. Yet stay: our lovely hostess hath not yet given thee welcome.Where is the Senora? Isabella, hast thou spirited her hence? She washere but now."
"Nay, good my Lord: she has vanished unwittingly," replied Isabella,as she turned towards the spot where Marie had been standing. "DonFerdinand, we must entreat thee to recall her!"
"It needs not, royal Madam: I am here:" and Marie stepped forward fromthe deep shade of the falling drapery behind the royal seats whichhad concealed her, and stood calmly, almost proudly erect beside theQueen, the full light falling on her face and form. But there waslittle need for light to recognize her: the voice was sufficient; andeven the vivid consciousness of where he stood, the hundred curiouseyes upon him, could not restrain the sudden start--the bewilderedlook. Could that be Marie? Could that be the wife of FerdinandMorales? If she were the one, how could she be the other, whenscarcely eighteen months previous, she had told him that which, ifit were true, must equally prevent her union with Morales as withhimself? In what were they different save in the vast superiority ofwealth and rank? And in the chaos of bewildering emotions, so trustfulwas he in the truth of her he loved, that, against the very evidenceof his own senses, he for the moment disbelieved in the identityof the wife of Morales with the Marie Henriquez of the Cedar Vale.Perhaps it was well he did so, for it enabled him to still thetumultuous throbbing of his every pulse as her voice again sounded inhis ear, saying he was welcome, most welcome as her husband's friend,and to retire without any apparent emotion to his seat.
He had merely bowed reverentially in reply. In any other person thesilence itself would have caused remark: but for the last three yearsStanley's reserve and silence in the company of women had been such,that a departure from his general rule even in the present case wouldhave been more noticed than his silence. Thoughts of painful, almostchaotic bewilderment indeed, so chased each other across his mind asto render the scene around him indistinct, the many faces and eagervoices like the phantasma of a dream. But the pride of manhood rousedhim from the sickening trance, and urged him to enter into thedetails, called for by his companions in arms, of the revolt of theSicilians, with even more than usual animation.
One timid glance Marie had hazarded towards her husband, and it wasmet by such a look and smile of love and pride that she was re-assuredto perform the duties of the evening unfalteringly to the end. Alas!she little knew that her momentary emotion and that of Arthur hadalike been seen, commented upon, and welcomed with fiend-like glee,as the connecting link of an until then impalpable plot, by oneindividual in that courtly crowd, whose presence, hateful as it was,she had forgotten in the new and happier thoughts which Isabella'spresence and notice had occasioned.
And who was there, the mere spectator of this glittering pageant,but would have pronounced that there, at least, all was joy, andgood-will, and trust, and love? Who, even did they acknowledge thetheory that one human heart, unveiled, would disperse this vain dreamof seeming unalloyed enjoyment, would yet have selected the rightindividual for the proof, or would not have shrunk back awed andsaddened had the truth been told? Surely it is well for the young,the hopeful, and the joyous, that in such scenes they see but life'ssurface--not its depths.
The festive scene lasted some time longer, nor did it conclude withthe departure of the King and Queen: many still lingered, wandering attheir own will about the rooms and gardens, and dispersing gradually,as was then the custom, without any set farewell.
Her attendance no longer required by the Queen, and aware that herpresence was not needed by her guests, Marie sought the gardens; herfevered spirit and
aching head yearning to exchange the dazzlinglights and close rooms for the darkness and refreshing breeze ofnight. Almost unconsciously she had reached some distance from thehouse, and now stood beside a beautiful statue of a-water-nymph,overlooking a deep still pool, so clear and limpid, that when the mooncast her light upon it, it shone like a sheet of silver, reflectingevery surrounding object. There were many paths that led to it,concealed one from the other by gigantic trees and overhanging shrubs.It was a favorite spot with. Marie, and she now stood leaning againstthe statue, quite unconscious that tears were falling faster andfaster from her eyes, and mingling with the waters at her feet.
"Marie!" exclaimed the voice of Stanley at that moment: "Canst thou beMarie? so false, so--" but his words were checked, for the terror, thetumult of feeling, while it impelled her to start from him, deprivedher of all power; and a rapid movement on his part alone prevented herfrom falling in the deep pool beneath their feet. It was but a moment:she withdrew herself from his supporting arms, and stood erect beforehim, though words she had none.
"Speak to me!" reiterated Arthur, his voice sounding hollow andchanged; "I ask but one word. My very senses seem to play me false,and mock me with thy outward semblance to one I have so loved. Hername, too, was Marie; her voice soft and thrilling as thine own:and yet, yet, I feel that 'tis but semblance--'tis but mockery--thephantasy of a disordered brain. Speak, in mercy! Say that it is butsemblance--that thou art not the Marie I have so loved."
"It is true--I am that Marie. I have wronged thee most cruelly, mostfalsely," she answered, in a tone low and collected indeed, butexpressive of intense suffering. "It is too late now, either to atoneor to explain. Leave me, Senor Stanley: I am another's!"
"Too late to explain? By heaven but thou shalt!" burst fiercely andwrathfully from Stanley. "Is it not enough, that thou hast changed mywhole nature into gall, made truth itself a lie, purity a meaninglessword, but thou wilt shroud thyself under the specious hood of duty toanother, when, before heaven, thou wast mine alone. Speak!"
"Ay, I will speak--implore thee by the love thou didst once bear me,Arthur, leave me now! I can hear no more to-night."
"On condition thou wilt see me in private once again. Marie, thoudarest not refuse me this! Thou canst not have so fallen as to give noreason for this most foul wrong--fancied weak, futile as it may be. Wepart now, but we meet again!" And with a strong effort at control hestrode hastily from her.
The moon at that moment breaking from thick clouds, darted her fulllight upon the pool, till it shone like an illuminated mirror amidstthe surrounding darkness; and though Arthur had disappeared, its clearsurface distinctly reflected the outline of another closely shroudedfigure. Marie turned in terror, and beheld, gleaming with the triumphof a fiend, the hated countenance of Don Luis Garcia. One look toldher that he Lad seen all, heard all; but she had no power to speak ormove. Keeping his basilisk gaze fixed on her, he withdrew backwardsinto the deep shade till he had entirely disappeared.
Summoning all her energy, Marie fled back towards the house, and atthe moment she reached it, Don Ferdinand crossed the deserted hall.
"Marie, dearest, here and alone? Pale, too, and trembling! In heaven'sname, what hath chanced?"
A moment more, and she would have flung herself at his feet and toldhim all--all, and beseeching his forgiveness, conjure him to shieldher from Arthur, from herself; but as she looked up in his face,and met its beaming animation, its manly reflection of the puregratification that evening had bestowed, how could she, how dared shebe the one to dash it with woe? And, overpowered with this fearfulcontention of feeling, she threw her arms around him as he benttenderly over her, and burying her head in his bosom, burst intotears.
"Thou art exhausted, mine own love! It has been too exciting, toowearying a scene for thee. Why, what a poor, weak girl thou art! Howfortunate for thee that thy Queen demands not thy constant attendance,and that thy husband is not ambitious to behold thee shining in thecourt, as thy grace and beauty might! I am too glad to feel thee all,all my own. Smile on me, love, and then to thy couch. A few hours'quiet rest, and thou wilt be thyself again." And he bore her himselfwith caressing gentleness to her apartment.
The Vale of Cedars; Or, The Martyr Page 11