The Vale of Cedars; Or, The Martyr

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by Grace Aguilar


  CHAPTER XXVII.

  'Tis done! and so she droops. Oh, woman-heart! How bold and brave to do thy destined part! Thro' sorrow's waves press firmly, calmly on, And pause not, sink not, till the goal is won!

  MS.

  Not a word passed between them, until they had reached Isabella'sprivate cabinet; and even then the Queen--though she seated herselfand signed to the boy to stand before her, as desirous of addressinghim--asked not a question, but fixed her penetrating eyes on hispallid features, with a look in which severity was very evidentlystruggling, with commiseration and regard. To attempt to retaindisguise was useless; Marie flung aside the shrouding hood, andsinking down at the Queen's feet, buried her face in her robe, andmurmured in strong emotion--

  "Gracious Sovereign--mercy!"

  "Again wouldst thou deceive, again impose upon me, Marie? What am Ito think of conduct mysterious as thine? Wherefore fly from myprotection--reject with ingratitude the kindness I would haveproffered--mistrust the interest which thou hadst already proved,and then return as now? I promised forgiveness, and continuation ofregard, if the truth were revealed and mystery banished, and darkerthan ever has thy conduct drawn the veil around thee. What urged thyflight, and wherefore this disguise? Speak out, and truthfully; wewill be tampered with no longer!"

  But Marie vainly tried to obey; her brain was burning; the rapid ride,the sudden transition, from the sickening horror of being too late,to the assurance of Stanley's safety, the thought that she had indeedparted from him for ever, and now Isabella's evident anger, when herwoman-heart turned to her as a child's to its mother's, yearningfor that gentle sympathy which, at such a moment, could alone havesoothed. Words seemed choked within her, and the effort to speakproduced only sobs. Isabella's eyes filled with tears.

  "Speak," she said, more gently; "Marie--say only why thou didst flyme, when I had given no evidence, that the boon thou didst implore meto grant, had become, by thy strange confession, null and void. Whaturged thy flight?"

  "Not my own will. Oh, no--no, gracious Sovereign; I would haveremained a contented prisoner with thee, but they bore me away to suchscenes and sounds of horror that their very memory burns my brain. Oh,madam! do with me what thou wilt, but condemn me not to return to thatfearful place again. Death, death itself--ay, even such a death asArthur has escaped--were mercy in its stead!"

  "Of what speakest thou, Marie? Who could have dared bear thee from ourprotection without thine own free will? Thy mind has been overwroughtand is bewildered still; we have been harsh, perchance, to urge theeto speak now: repose may--".

  "Repose! Oh, no--no; let me remain with thee!" she sobbed, asforgetful of either state or form, her head sunk on Isabella's knee."He has borne me from your highness' power once; he can, he may, Iknow he will again. Oh, save me from him! It was not because of myfaith he bore me there, and tempted and tortured and laughed at myagony; he taunted me with his power to wreak the vengeance of abaffled passion upon me--for, as a Jewess, who would protect me? Oh,mighty Sovereign! send me not from thy presence. Don Luis will take mefrom thy very roof again."

  "Don Luis!" repeated Isabella, more and more convinced that Marie'ssufferings had injured her brain. "What power can he have, so secretand so terrible? Marie, thou ravest!"

  "Do I rave?" replied the unhappy girl, raising her right hand to herthrobbing brow. "It may be so; perhaps it has all been a dream--a wildand fearful dream!--and I am awakened from it now; and yet--yet howcan it be; how came my arm thus if it had not been reality--horrible,agonizing reality!" And as she spoke she removed the covering fromher left arm. Painfully Isabella started: the beautiful limb hungpowerless from wrist to shoulder, a dry and scorched and shrievelledbone.

  "And couldst thou think thy Sovereign would ordain, or even permit,such suffering?" she exclaimed, after a moment's pause, passing herarm fondly round Marie, whom she had raised from the ground to acushion by her side. "My poor unhappy child, what is this darkmystery? Who can have dared to injure thee, and call it justice,zeal--religion, perchance! Mother of Mercy! pardon the profanation ofthe word! Try and collect thy thoughts, and tell me all. Who has daredthus insult our power?"

  "Don Luis!--Don Luis!" repeated Marie, clinging like an infant to theQueen, and shuddering with terror at the very recollection of a powerwhich she had faced so calmly. "Oh, save me from him! torture itself Icould bear, but not his words."

  "Don Luis!" reiterated the astonished Queen. "What has he to do withtorture? Who is he--what is he, my poor child, that his very nameshould thus appal thee? He may indeed have dared speak insultingwords, but what power has he thus fearfully to wreak his vengeance?"

  "Who is he--what is he?" repeated Marie, looking with surprise inthe Queen's pitying face. "Does not your highness know--and yet howshouldst thou?--his very office is as secret as his own black nature?Has your highness never heard men whisper of a secret Inquisition,hiding itself even in thy domains? Oh, my Sovereign, it was there theydragged me! [her voice sunk to a low shuddering whisper] and he wasgrand master there; he--even Don Luis! And he will bear me thereagain. Oh, save me from those fearful sounds--those horrid sights:they glare before me now!"

  "And I will save thee, my child! ay, and root out these midnighthorrors from my kingdom," exclaimed Isabella, indignation flashing inher eye, and flushing on her cheek. "Once we have been insulted--oncedeceived; but never to us can such occur a second time. Fearfullyshall this deed of infamy recoil upon its perpetrators! Tremble notthus, my poor girl, no one shall injure thee; no one can touch thee,for we are warned, and this fearful tale shall be sifted to thebottom! Child of a reprobate faith, and outcast race as thou art,thinkest thou that even to thee Isabella would permit injury andinjustice? If we love thee too well, may we be forgiven, but cared forthou shalt be; ay, so cared for, that there shall be joy on earth, andin heaven for thee yet!"

  At another moment, those words would have been understood in theirreal meaning; but Marie could then only feel the consoling convictionof security and love. It was not merely personal kindness which hadso bound her to her Sovereign; it was the unacknowledged but feltconviction, that Isabella had penetrated her secret feelings, withregard to Arthur Stanley; and yet not a syllable of this had everpassed the Queen's lips. Oh, true sympathy seldom needs expression,for its full consolation to be given and received! The heartrecognizes intuitively a kindred heart, and turns to it in its sorrowor its joy, conscious of finding in it, repose from itself. But onlya woman can give to woman this perfect sympathy; for the deepestrecesses, the hidden sources of anguish in the female heart no man canread.

  Engrossed as Isabella was by the mysterious information imparted byMarie, indefinitely yet forcibly confirmed by her, then unusual,knowledge of the past history of Spain, she was more easily satisfiedwith Marie's hurried and hesitating account of her escape, than shemight otherwise have been. To proclaim her relationship with FatherAmbrose was ruin to him at once. He had been one, she said with truth,who had received great obligations from her family, and had vowedto return them whenever it should be in his power so to do; he had,therefore, made the exertion to save her, and was about taking her toher childhood's home on the frontiers of Castile, the only place, itappeared to him, sufficiently secret to conceal her from Don Luis'sthousand spies; but that on the providential discovery of the realmurderer, and the seeming impossibility of ever seeing the Kinghimself in time--she paused.

  "Could he send thee on such a rapid errand, my child, and sufferingthus?" gently inquired Isabella.

  "No, gracious madam," was the unhesitating rejoinder, though a burningblush mounted to her very temples; "it was my own voluntary choice. Itwas my unhappy fate to have been the actual cause of his arraignment;it was but my duty to save him if I could."

  "And thou wouldst have returned with Perez had we not penetrated thydisguise?"

  "Yes, gracious Sovereign." And the flush faded into paleness, ashy asbefore; but the tone was calm and firm.

  The Queen looked at her intently, but made no furth
er observation; andspeedily summoning her before trusted attendants, placed the widow ofMorales once more in their charge; imparted to them as much of Marie'stale as she deemed requisite, and the consequent necessity for herreturn to the Queen's care; nay, her very existence was to be keptsecret from all save those to whom she herself should choose to impartit. Gratified by her confidence, they were eager to obey; and soskilfully did they enter into her wishes, that their very companionssuspected not the identity of the prisoner, in whom, they were told,their Sovereign was so much interested. Curiosity might have been busywith very many, but their vague conjectures fell far short of thetruth; Catharine Pas was the only one of Isabella's younger maidens towhom the real fact was imparted.

 

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