Fair Margaret

by H. Rider Haggard

  CHAPTER XVI

  BETTY SHOWS HER TEETH

  "Senora," said Inez, "you think that you have something against me."

  "No," answered Margaret, "you are--what you are; why should I blameyou?"

  "Well, against the Senor Brome then?"

  "Perhaps, but that is between me and him. I will not discuss it withyou."

  "Senora," went on Inez, with a slow smile, "we are both innocent of whatyou thought you saw."

  "Indeed; then who is guilty?"

  "The Marquis of Morella."

  Margaret made no answer, but her eyes said much.

  "Senora, you do not believe me, nor is it wonderful. Yet I speak thetruth. What you saw from the tower was a play in which the Senor Brometook his part badly enough, as you may have noticed, because I told himthat my life hung on it. I have nursed him through a sore sickness,Senora, and he is not ungrateful."

  "So I judged; but I do not understand you."

  "Senora, I am a slave in this house, a discarded slave. Perhaps you canguess the rest, it is a common story here. I was offered my freedom at aprice, that I should weave myself into this man's heart, I who am heldfair, and make him my lover. If I failed, then perhaps I should be soldas a slave--perhaps worse. I accepted--why should I not? It was a smallthing to me. On the one hand, life, freedom, and wealth, an hidalgo ofgood blood and a gallant friend for a little while, and, on the other,the last shame or blackness which doubtless await me now--if I am foundout. Senora, I failed, who in truth did not try hard to succeed. The manlooked on me as his nurse, no more, and to me he was one very sick, nomore. Also, we grew to be true friends, and in this way or in that Ilearned all his story, learned also why the trap was baited thus--thatyou might be deceived and fall into a deeper trap. Senora, I could notexplain it all to him, indeed, in that chamber where we were spied on, Ihad but little chance. Still, it was necessary that he should seem to bewhat he is not, so I took him into the garden and, knowing well whowatched us, made him act his part, well enough to deceive you itwould seem."

  "Still I do not understand," said Margaret more softly. "You say thatyour life or welfare hung on this shameful business. Then why do youreveal it to me now?"

  "To save you from yourself, Senora, to save my friend the Senor Brome,and to pay back Morella in his own coin."

  "How will you do these things?"

  "The first two are done, I think, but the third is difficult. It is ofthat I come to speak with you, at great risk. Indeed, had not my masterbeen summoned to the court of the Moorish king I could not have come,and he may return at any time."

  "Have you some plan?" asked Margaret, leaning towards her eagerly.

  "No plan as yet, only an idea." She turned and looked at Betty, adding,

  "This lady is your cousin, is she not, though of a different station,and somewhat far away?"

  Margaret nodded.

  "You are not unlike," went on Inez, "of much the same height and shape,although the Senora Betty is stronger built, and her eyes are blue andher hair golden, whereas your eyes are black and your hair chestnut.Beneath a veil, or at night, it would not be easy to tell you apart ifyour hands were gloved and neither of you spoke above a whisper."

  "Yes," said Margaret, "what then?"

  "Now the Senora Betty comes into the play," replied Inez. "Senora Betty,have you understood our talk?"

  "Something, not quite all," answered Betty.

  "Then what you do not understand your lady must interpret, and be notangry with me, I pray you, if I seem to know more of you and youraffairs than you have ever told me. Render my words now, Dona Margaret."

  Then, after this was done, and she had thought awhile, Inez continuedslowly, Margaret translating from Spanish into English whenever Bettycould not understand:

  "Morella made love to you in England, Senora Betty--did he not?--and wonyour heart as he has won that of many another woman, so that you came tobelieve that he was carrying you off to marry you, and not your cousin?"

  "What affair is that of yours, woman?" asked Betty, flushing angrily.

  "None at all, save that I could tell much such another story, if youcared to listen. But hear me out, and then answer me a question, orrather, answer the question first. Would you like to be avenged uponthis high-born knave?"

  "Avenged?" answered Betty, clenching her hands and hissing the wordsthrough her firm, white teeth. "I would risk my life for it."

  "As I do. It seems that we are of one mind there. Then I think thatperhaps I can show you a way. Look now, your cousin has seen certainthings which women placed as she is do not like to see. She is jealous,she is angry--or was until I told her the truth. Well, to-night orto-morrow, Morella will come to her and say, 'Are you satisfied? Do youstill refuse me in favour of a man who yields his heart to the firstlight-of-love who tempts him? Will you not be my wife?' What if sheanswer, 'Yes, I will.' Nay, be silent both of you, and hear me out. Whatif then there should be a secret marriage, _and the Senora Betty shouldchance to wear the bride's veil_, while the Dona Margaret, in the robeof Betty, was let go with the Senor Brome and her father?"

  Inez paused, watching them both, and playing with the fan she held,while, the rendering of her words finished, Margaret and Betty stared ather and at each other, for the audacity and fearfulness of this plottook their breath away. It was Margaret who spoke the first.

  "You must not do it, Betty," she said. "Why, when the man found you out,he would kill you." But Betty took no heed of her, and thought on. Atlength she looked up and answered:

  "Cousin, it was my vain folly that brought you all into this trouble,therefore I owe something to you, do I not? I am not afraid of theman--he is afraid of me; and if it came to killing--why, let Inez lendme that knife of hers, and I think that perhaps I should give the firstblow. And--well, I think I love him, rascal though he is, and,afterwards, perhaps we might make it up, who can say?--while, if not----But tell me, you, Inez, should I be his legal wife according to the lawof this land?"

  "Assuredly," answered Inez, "if a priest married you and he placed thering upon your hand and named you wife. Then, when once the words ofblessing have been said, the Pope alone can loose that knot, which maybe risked, for there would be much to explain, and is this a tale thatMorella, a good servant of the Church, would care to take to Rome?"

  "It would be a trick," broke in Margaret--"a very ugly trick."

  "And what was it he played on me and you?" asked Betty. "Nay, I'llchance it, and his rage, if only I can be sure that you and Peter willgo free, and your father with you."

  "But what of this Inez?" asked Margaret, bewildered.

  "She will look after herself," answered Inez. "Perchance, if all goeswell, you will let me ride with you. And now I dare stop no longer, I goto see your father, the Senor Castell, and if anything can be arranged,we will talk again. Meanwhile, Dona Margaret, your affianced is nearlywell again at last and sends his heart's love to you, and, I counselyou, when Morella speaks turn a gentle ear to him."

  Then with another deep curtsey she glided to the door, unlocked it, andleft the room.

  * * * * *

  An hour later Inez was being led by an old Jew, dressed in a Moslem robeand turban, through one of the most tortuous and crowded parts ofGranada. It would seem that this Jew was known there, for hisappearance, accompanied by a veiled woman, apparently caused no surpriseto those followers of the Prophet that he met, some of whom, indeed,saluted him with humility.

  "These children of Mahomet seem to love you, Father Israel," said Inez.

  "Yes, yes, my dear," answered the old fellow with a chuckle; "they oweme money, that is why, and I am getting it in before the great war comeswith the Spaniards, so they would sweep the streets for me with theirbeards--all of which is very good for the plans of our friend yonder.Ah! he who has crowns in his pocket can put a crown upon his head; thereis nothing that money will not do in Granada. Give me enough of it, andI will buy his sultana from the king."

&nb
sp; "This Castell has plenty?" asked Inez shortly.

  "Plenty, and more credit. He is one of the richest men in England. Butwhy do you ask? He would not think of you, who is too troubled aboutother things."

  Inez only laughed bitterly, but did not resent the words. Why shouldshe? It was not worth while.

  "I know," she answered, "but I mean to earn some of it all the same,and I want to be sure that there is enough for all of us."

  "There is enough, I have told you there is enough and to spare,"answered the Hebrew Israel as he tapped on a door in adirty-looking wall.

  It opened as though by magic, and they crossed a paved patio, orcourtyard, to a house beyond, a tumble-down place of Moorisharchitecture.

  "Our friend Castell, being in seclusion just now, has hired the cellarfloor," said Israel with a chuckle to Inez, "so be pleased to follow me,and take care of the rats and beetles."

  Then he led her down a rickety stair which opened out of the courtyardinto vaults filled with vats of wine, and, having lit a taper, throughthese, shutting and locking sundry doors behind him, to what appeared tobe a very damp wall covered with cobwebs, and situated in a dark cornerof a wine-cave. Here he stopped and tapped again in his peculiarfashion, whereon a portion of the wall turned outwards on a pivot,leaving an opening through which they could pass.

  "Well managed, isn't it?" chuckled Israel. "Who would think of lookingfor an entrance here, especially if he owed the old Jew money? Come in,my pretty, come in."

  Inez followed him into this darksome hole, and the wall closed behindthem. Then, taking her by the arm, he turned first to the right, next tothe left, opened a door with a key which he carried, and, behold, theystood in a beautifully furnished room well lighted with lamps, for itseemed to have no windows. "Wait here," he said to Inez, pointing to acouch on which she sat herself down, "while I fetch my lodger," and hevanished through some curtains at the end of the room.

  Presently these opened again, and Israel reappeared through them withCastell, dressed now in Moorish robes, and looking somewhat pale fromhis confinement underground, but otherwise well enough. Inez rose andstood before him, throwing back her veil that he might see her face.Castell searched her for a while with his keen eyes that notedeverything, then said:

  "You are the lady with whom I have been in communication through ourfriend here, are you not? Prove it to me now by repeating my messages."

  Inez obeyed, telling him everything.

  "That is right," he said, "but how do I know that I can trust you? Iunderstand you are, or have been, the lover of this man Morella, andsuch an one he might well employ as a spy to bring us all to ruin."

  "Is it not too late to ask such questions, Senor? If I am not to betrusted, already you and your people are in the hollow of my hand?"

  "Not at all, not at all, my dear," said Israel. "If we see the slightestcause to doubt you, why, there are many great vats in this place, one ofwhich, at a pinch, would serve you as a coffin, though it would be apity to spoil the good wine."

  Inez laughed as she answered:

  "Save your wine, and your time too. Morella has cast me off, and I hatehim, and wish to escape from him and rob him of his prize. Also, Idesire money to live on afterwards, and this you must give to me or Ido not stir, or rather the promise of it, for you Jews keep your word,and I do not ask a maravedi from you until I have played my part."

  "And then how many maravedis do you ask, young woman?"

  Inez named a sum, at the mention of which both of them opened theireyes, and old Israel exclaimed drily:

  "Surely--surely you must be one of us."

  "No," she answered, "but I try to follow your example, and, if I am tolive at all, it shall be in comfort."

  "Quite so," said Castell, "we understand. But now tell us, what do youpropose to do for this money?"

  "I propose to set you, your daughter, the Dona Margaret, and her lover,the Senor Brome, safe and free outside the walls of Granada, and toleave the Marquis of Morella married to another woman."

  "What other woman? Yourself?" asked Castell, fixing on this last pointin the programme.

  "No, Senor, not for all the wealth of both of you. To your dependent andyour daughter's relative, the handsome Betty."

  "How will you manage that?" exclaimed Castell, amazed.

  "These cousins are not unlike, Senor, although the link of blood betweenthem is so thin. Listen now, I will tell you." And she explained theoutlines of her plan.

  "A bold scheme enough," said Castell, when she had finished, "but evenif it can be done, would that marriage hold?"

  "I think so," answered Inez, "if the priest knew--and he could bebribed--and the bride knows. But if not, what would it matter, sinceRome alone can decide the question, and long before that is done thefates of all of us will be settled."

  "Rome--or death," said Castell; and Inez read what he was afraid of inhis eyes.

  "Your Betty takes her chance," she replied slowly, "as many a one hasdone before her with less cause. She is a woman with a mind as strong asher body. Morella made her love him and promised to marry her. Then heused her to steal your daughter, and she learned that she had been nomore than a stalking-heifer, from behind which he would net the whiteswan. Do you not think, therefore, that she has something to pay himback, she through whom her beloved mistress and cousin has been broughtinto all this trouble? If she wins, she becomes the wife of a grandee ofSpain, a marchioness; and if she loses, well, she has had her fling fora high stake, and perhaps her revenge. At least she is willing to takeher chance, and, meanwhile, all of you can be gone."

  Castell looked doubtfully at the Jew Israel, who stroked his white beardand said:

  "Let the woman set out her scheme. At any rate she is no fool, and it isworth our hearing, though I fear that at the best it must be costly."

  "I can pay," said Castell, and motioned to Inez to proceed.

  As yet, however, she had not much more to say, save that they must havegood horses at hand, and send a messenger to Seville, whither the_Margaret_ had been ordered to proceed, bidding her captain hold hisship ready to sail at any hour, should they succeed in reaching him.

  These things, then, they arranged, and a while later Inez and Israeldeparted, the former carrying with her a bag of gold.

  That same night Inez sought the priest, Henriques of Motril, in thathall of Morella's palace which was used as a private chapel, saying thatshe desired to speak with him under pretence of making confession, forthey were old friends--or rather enemies.

  As it chanced she found the holy father in a very ill humour. Itappeared that Morella also was in a bad humour with Henriques, havingheard that it was he who had possessed himself of the jewels in hisstrong-box on the _San Antonio_. Now he insisted upon his surrenderingeverything, and swore, moreover, that he would hold him responsible forall that his people had stolen from the ship, and this because he saidthat it was his fault that Peter Brome had escaped the sea and come onto Granada.

  "So, Father," said Inez, "you, who thought yourself rich, are pooragain."

  "Yes, my daughter, and that is what chances to those who put their faithin princes. I have served this marquis well for many years--to my soul'shurt, I fear me--hoping that he who stands so high in the favour of theChurch would advance me to some great preferment. But instead, what doeshe do? He robs me of a few trinkets that, had I not found them, the seawould have swallowed or some thief would have taken, and declares me hisdebtor for the rest, of which I know nothing."

  "What preferment did you want, Father? I see that you have one in yourmind."

  "Daughter, a friend had written to me from Seville that if I have ahundred gold doubloons to pay for it, he can secure me the place of asecretary in the Holy Office where I served before as a familiar untilthe marquis made me his chaplain, and gave the benefice of Motril, whichproved worth nothing, and many promises that are worth less. Now thosetrinkets would fetch thirty, and I have saved twenty, and came here toborrow the other fifty from the marquis,
to whom I have done so manygood turns--as _you_ know well, Inez. You see the end of that quest,"and he groaned angrily.

  "It is a pity," said Inez thoughtfully, "since those who serve theInquisition save many souls, do they not, including their own? Forinstance," she added, and the priest winced at the words, "I rememberthat they saved the soul of my own sister and would have saved mine, hadI been--what shall I say?--more--more prejudiced. Also, they get apercentage of the goods of wicked heretics, and so become rich and ableto advance themselves."

  "That is so, Inez. It was the chance of a lifetime, especially to onewho, like myself, hates heretics. But why speak of it now when thatcursed, dissolute marquis----" and he checked himself.

  Inez looked at him.

  "Father," she asked, "if I happen to be able to find you those hundredgold doubloons, would you do something for me?"

  The priest's foxy face lit up.

  "I wonder what there is that I would not do, my daughter!"

  "Even if it brought you into a quarrel with the marquis?

  "Once I was a secretary to the Inquisition of Seville, he would havemore reason to fear me than I him. Aye, and fear me he should, who bearhim no love," answered the priest with a snarl.

  "Then listen, Father. I have not made my confession yet; I have not toldyou, for instance, that I also hate this marquis, and with goodcause--though perhaps you know that already. But remember that if youbetray me, you will never see those hundred gold doubloons, and someother holy priest will be appointed secretary at Seville. Also worsethings may happen to you."

  "Proceed, my daughter," he said unctuously; "are we not in theconfessional--or near it?"

  So she told him all the plot, trusting to the man's avarice and othermatters to protect her, for Inez hated Fray Henriques bitterly, and knewhim from the crown of his shaven head to the soles of his erring feet,as she had good cause to do. Only she did not tell him whence the moneywas to come.

  "That does not seem a very difficult matter," he said, when she hadfinished. "If a man and a woman, unwed and outside the prohibiteddegrees, appear before me to be married, I marry them, and once the ringhas passed and the office is said, married they are till death or thePope part them."

  "And suppose that the man thinks he is marrying another woman, Father?"

  The priest shrugged his shoulders.

  "He should know whom he is marrying; that is his affair, not theChurch's or mine. The names need not be spoken too loudly, my daughter."

  "But you would give me a writing of the marriage with them set outplain?"

  "Certainly. To you or to anybody else; why should I not?--that is, if Iwere sure of this wedding fee."

  Inez lifted her hand, and showed beneath it a little pile of tendoubloons.

  "Take them, Father," she said; "they will not be counted in thecontract. There are others where they came from, whereof twenty will bepaid before the marriage, and eighty when I have that writingat Seville."

  He swept up the coins and pocketed them, saying:

  "I will trust you, Inez."

  "Yes," she answered as she left him, "we must trust each other now--mustwe not?--seeing that you have the money, and both our necks are in thesame noose. Be here, Father, to-morrow at the same time, in case I havemore confessions to make, for, alas! this is a sinful world, as youshould know very well."