CHAPTER VII.
At first all seemed to go well enough. The Governor's lady was fairlygracious to me; old Senor de Colis was profuse in his leering smiles andwordy compliments, none of which I could understand; I saw Mr. Riversand Melinza from time to time, and they seemed upon good terms with eachother: but I did not believe this state of affairs could last,--and Iwas right in my fears.
One night ('twas the twenty-second of June, and the weather was sultryand oppressive; the sea held its breath, and the round moon burned hotin the hazy sky) the evening meal was served in the little courtyard ofthe Governor's house, and both Mr. Rivers and Melinza were our guests.
This was not the first occasion on which we had all broken bread at thesame board; but there was now an air of mockery in the civilities ofMelinza,--he passed the salt to my betrothed with a glance of veiledhostility, and pledged him in a glass of wine with a smile that illconcealed the angry curl of his sullen red lip.
'Twas a strange meal; the memory of it is like a picture stamped upon mybrain.
From the tall brass candlesticks upon the table, the unflickering tapersshone down upon gleaming damask and glistening silver, and kindledsparks amid the diamonds that caught up the folds of lace on the darkhead of Dona Orosia, and that gemmed the white fingers clasping herslow-moving fan. Hers was a beauty that boldly challenged men'sadmiration and exacted tribute of their eyes. The white-haired Governorpaid it in full measure, with a fixed and watery gaze from beneath hishalf-closed lids, and a senile smile lurking under his waxed moustache.But whenever I glanced upward I met the eyes of Mr. Rivers and Don Pedroturned upon me; and I felt a strange thrill made up, in part, of triumphthat my dear love was not to be won from his allegiance, and in part ofterror because there was that in the Spaniard's gaze that betokened anature ruled wholly by its hot passions and a will to win what it cravedby fair means or by foul.
I could eat little for the heat and the pungent flavour of strangesauces, so I dallied with my plate only as an excuse for loweredeyes; and, although I listened all the while with strained attention,the talk ran by too swiftly for me to grasp any of its meaning.
"TO THE BRIGHTEST EYES AND THE LIPS MOST WORTHY OFKISSES!"--_Page 55._]
But Dona Orosia was neither deaf nor blind; her keen black eyes hadnoted every glance that passed her by. With a deeper flush on her olivecheek, and a prouder poise of her haughty head, she made to me at lastthe signal for withdrawal.
The three gentlemen, glasses in hand, rose from their seats; and, as wepassed beneath the arched trellis that led away from the paved courtinto the fragrant garden, Don Pedro lifted his glass to his lips with agesture in our direction, and exclaimed in French:
"To the fairest face in San Augustin! To the brightest eyes and the lipsmost worthy of kisses! May the light of those eyes never be withdrawnfrom these old walls, nor the lips lack a Spanish blade to guard themfrom all trespassers!"
The Governor, who understood not the French words, lifted his glass incourteous imitation of his nephew's gesture; but Mr. Rivers colouredhotly and set down his upon the table.
"I like not your toast, Senor Melinza, whichever way I construe it. Theface I hold fairest here shall leave San Augustin the day that Idepart; and, since it is the face of my promised wife, it needs no othersword than mine to fend off trespassers!"
He, too, spoke in French; and as the words passed his lips I felt thesoft, strong hand of Dona Orosia grasp my arm and drag me backward amongthe screening vines, beyond the red light of the tapers, where we couldlisten unseen.
Melinza was laughing softly. "Senor Rivers says he cannot construe mytoast to his liking; but perhaps if I give it him in the Spanish tonguehe may find the interpretation more to his taste!" Then he lifted hisglass again and slowly repeated the words in his own language, with ameaning glance toward the Governor.
The old man drained his goblet to the dregs, and then turned a flushedface upon the Englishman and laid his hand upon his sword.
My dear love had no thoughts of prudence left,--for Melinza's words hadbeen a direct charge of cowardice,--so for all answer he took the frailgoblet from the table and threw it in the younger Spaniard's face.
There was a tinkle of broken glass upon the stone pavement, and Melinzawiped the red wine from his cheek. Then he held up the stained kerchiefbefore the eyes of my dear love and spoke a few words in his softestvoice.
An angry smile flickered over the countenance of my betrothed; he bowedstiffly in response.
The blear-eyed Governor broke in hotly, with his hand still upon hissword; his dull eyes narrowed, and the blood mounted higher in hiswrinkled cheek: but his nephew laid a restraining hand upon his arm,and, with another laughing speech and a profound bow to Mr. Rivers,pointed toward the door.
I saw the three of them depart through the passageway that led to thestreet entrance. I heard the creak of the hinges, and the clang of thebars as they fell back into place. Then a strong, sweet odour of crushedblossoms turned me faint. I loosed my hold of the screening vines andstepped backward with a sudden struggle for breath.
The woman beside me caught my arm a second time and drew me stillfarther away down the moonlit path.
"Is he aught of a swordsman, this fine cavalier of thine?" she demanded,grasping my shoulder tightly and scanning my face with her scornfuleyes.
Then my senses came to me: I knew what had happened--what was bound tofollow; and I began to speak wildly and to pray her to prevent bloodshedbetween them.
I scarce know what I said; but the words poured from my lips, and forvery despair I checked them not. I told her of my orphan state--of thatlone grave in Barbadoes, and the sad young mother who had died of abroken heart; I spoke of the long, long journey over seas, the love thathad come into my life, and the dreams and the hopes that had filled ourthoughts when we reached the fair, strange shores of this new country;and I prayed her, as she was a woman and a wife, to let no harm come tomy dear love.
"Ah! madame," I cried, "a face so fair as yours needs not thechampionship of one English stranger, who holds already a preference forblue eyes and yellow hair. I grant you that he has a sorry taste; butoh! I pray you, stop this duel!"
She loosed her hand from the clasp of mine, and looked at me a moment insilence; then she laughed bitterly.
"Thou little fool! Thou little blue-eyed fool! What do men see in thatface of thine to move them so? A painter might love thee for the gold ofthy hair, thy white brow, and thy blue eyes,--they would grace apictured saint above a shrine,--but for a man's kisses, and such loveas might tempt him to risk his very life for thee,--_cielos_! it is morethan passing strange." Then, as I stood dumb before her, she tapped melightly on the cheek. "Go to! Art such a fool as to think that _either_sword will be drawn for _my_ beauty's sake?"
Margaret Tudor: A Romance of Old St. Augustine Page 7