Margaret Tudor: A Romance of Old St. Augustine
Page 12
CHAPTER XII.
San Augustin's Day--August, the 28th.
Oh! but I have been angered this day!
What? when my betrothed lies in prison, ill, perhaps, or fretting hisbrave heart away, am I to be dragged forth to make part of a pageant forthe entertainment of his jailers? I would sooner have the lowest cell inthe dungeon--aye! and starve and stifle for lack of food and air, thanbe forced to deck myself out in borrowed bravery, and sit mowing andsmiling in a gay pavilion, and clap hands in transport over the finecavalier airs of the man I hold most in abhorrence!
Do they take me for so vapid a little fool that I may be compelled toany course they choose? Nay, then, they have learned a lesson. Oh, butit is good to be in a fair rage for once!
I had grown so weary and sick at heart that the blood crawled sluggishlyin my veins; my eyes were dull and heavy; I had sat listlessly, withidle hands, day after day, waiting--waiting for I knew not what!Therefore it was that I had no will or courage to oppose the Governor'swife when she came to me this morning and bade me wear the gown shebrought, and pin a flower in my hair, and sit with her in the Governor'spavilion to see the fine parade go by.
"This is a great day in San Augustin," she said, "being theone-hundred-and-fifth anniversary of its founding by the Spanish."
As the captives of olden times made part of the triumph of theirconquerors, 'twas very fit that I, forsooth, should lend what little Ipossessed of youth and fairness to the making of a Spanish holiday!
But I was too spiritless, then, to dare a refusal. I bowed my headmeekly enough while Chepa--the smiling, good-natured negress--gatheredup the rustling folds of the green silk petticoat and slipped it over myshoulders. I made no demur while she looped and twisted the long tressesof my yellow hair, fastening it high with a tall comb, and tying a knotof black velvet riband upon each of the wilful little bunches of curlsthat ever come tumbling about my ears.
When all was finished, and the lace mantilla fastened to my comb anddraped about my shoulders, I was moved by Barbara's cries of admirationto cast one glance upon the mirror. 'Twas an unfamiliar picture that Isaw there, and my pale face blushed with some mortification that itshould have lent itself so kindly to a foreign fashion.
I would have thrown off all the braveries that minute; but just thencame a message from Dona Orosia, bidding me hasten.
"What matters anything to me now?" I thought wearily; and, slowlydescending to the courtyard, I took my place in the closed chair thatwaited, and was borne after the Governor's lady to the Plaza, where, atthe western end facing upon the little open square, was the gaypavilion.
Its red and yellow banners shone gaudily in the hot sunlight of thesummer afternoon, and the fresh sea breeze kept the tassels andstreamers all a-flutter, like butterflies hovering over a bed offlowers.
Three sides of the Plaza were lined with spectators, but the easternend--which opened out toward the bay--was kept clear for the troops toenter.
Against the slight railing of the little pavilion leaned Dona Orosia,strangely fair in a gown of black lace and primrose yellow, thattransformed the soft contours of her throat and cheek from pale olive tothe purest pearl. She deigned to bestow but a single cold, unfriendlyglance upon me; then she bent forward as before, her lifted fanshielding her eyes from the glare of the sun-kissed sea.
Presently, with the blare of trumpets and the deep rolling of the drums,the King's troops came in sight, three hundred strong.
At the head of the little band, which marched afoot, rode Melinza andthe Governor. 'Twas the first time I had seen a horse in the town.
Old Senor de Colis was mounted on a handsome bay that pranced andcurvetted beneath him, to his most evident discomfort; but Melinza'sseat was superb. It was a dappled gray he rode, with flowing mane andtail of silvery white; a crimson rosette was fastened to its crimpedforelock, and the long saddle-cloth was richly embroidered.
As the little company swept round the square, the two horsemen salutedour pavilion. Don Pedro lifted his plumed hat high, and I saw that hisface was pale from his recent wound, but the bold black eyes were asbright as ever they had been before.
I drew back hastily from the front of the pavilion and made no pretenceof returning his salute. Then, for the first time since I had taken myseat beside her, Dona Orosia spoke to me.
"Why such scant courtesy?" she asked, with lifted brows.
"Madame," I answered, "had my betrothed been here at my side, anhonoured guest, I would have had more graciousness at my command."
"What!" she exclaimed, "have you not yet had time to forget yourquarrelsome cavalier?"
"I will forget him, madame, when I cease to remember the treachery ofthose who called themselves his entertainers."
She flushed angrily. "Your tongue has more of spirit than your face. Iwonder that you have the courage to say this to me."
"I dare, because I have nothing more to lose, madame!"
"Say you so? Would you rather I gave you into Melinza's keeping?"
"Nay!" I cried, "you could not--such unfaith would surpass the limits ofeven Spanish treachery! And you would not--it would please you better_if he never set eyes upon my face again_! I only wonder that you shouldhave brought me here to-day!"
She opened her lips to speak; but the blare of the trumpets drowned thewords, and she turned away from me.
The troops were drawn in line across the square: on the right, theSpanish regulars of the garrison; on the left, the militia companies,which had come up while we were speaking. These last were made up, forthe most part, of mulattoes and half-breed Indians,--a swarthy-faced,ill-looking band that appeared fitter for savage warfare of stealth andambuscade and poisoned arrows than for valorous exploits and honestsword-play.
The various man[oe]uvres of the troops, under the skilled leadership ofDon Pedro, occupied our attention for upward of an hour, during allwhich time my companion appeared quite unconscious of my presence. Shesat motionless save for the swaying of her fan. Only once did her faceexpress aught but fixed attention--and that was when a sudden fanfare ofthe trumpets caused the Governor's horse to plunge, and the old manlurched forward on the pommel of his saddle, his plumed hat slippingdown over his eyes.
For an instant the swaying fan was still; a low laugh sounded in my ear,and, turning, I saw the red lips of the Governor's lady take on a veryscornful curve.
She received him graciously enough, however, when--the review beingover--he dismounted and joined us in the pavilion.
Melinza had retired with the troops; but just as the last rankdisappeared from view he came galloping back at full speed, flunghimself from the saddle, and, throwing the reins to an attendant,mounted the pavilion stair.
I felt that Dona Orosia's eyes were upon me, and I believed that sheliked me none the less for my hostility to the man. It may have beenthis that gave me courage--I do not know--I think I would not havetouched his hand in any case.
He flushed deeply when I put both of mine behind my back; then, with theutmost effrontery, he leaned forward and plucked away one little blackrosette that had fallen loose from my curls and was slipping down uponmy shoulder. This he raised to his lips with a laugh, and then fastenedupon his breast.
I was deeply angered, and I cast about for some means of retaliationthat would show him the scorn I held him in.
At the foot of the pavilion stood the youth who was holding Melinza'shorse.
I leaned over the railing, and, loosing quickly from my hair the fellowto the rosette Don Pedro wore, I tossed it to the lad below, saying, inalmost the only Spanish words I knew,--
"It is a gift!"
Melinza's face grew white with anger; he tore off the bit of riband andground it under his heel; then he strode down the stair, mounted hishorse, and rode away.
The Governor's lady watched him till he was out of sight; then, with astrange smile, she said to me,--
"I never knew before that blue eyes had so much of fire in them. Ithink, my little saint, 'tis time I sent you bac
k to your old duenna."
"I would thank you for so much grace!" was my reply. And back to BarbaraI was despatched forthwith.
But though I have been some hours in my chamber, my indignation has notcooled. The very sight of that man's countenance is more than I canendure!
I am resolved that I will never set foot outside my door when there isany chance of my encountering him, and so I shall inform the Governor'swife when she returns....
She laughs at me! She declares I shall do whatever is her pleasure! Andwhat is my puny strength to hers? With all the will in the world toresist her, I am as wax in her hands!