CHAPTER XXVII.
So fatigued was I, that the night passed like an instant; and when Achilles came to wake me the next morning, I could scarcely believe I had slept half an hour. The good little player returned instantly, as he began to dress me, to the subject of the diamonds, with the value of which he seemed well acquainted; and as he found me positive in my determination to appropriate no one article of his plunder, except a rich laced shirt or two, which had belonged to the Marquis de Villafranca, and was a very convenient accession to my wardrobe, he requested that, at all events, I would mention his possession of the diamonds to no one.
With this I willingly complied, as I felt that I had no right to use the generous offer he had made me against himself.
Before I was dressed, a message was conveyed to me from the corregidor, stating that, as we should probably be occupied at the council till late, he had ordered some refreshment to be prepared for us before we went; and farther, that he waited my leisure for a few minutes' conversation with me. I bade the servant stay for a moment, and then followed him to the corregidor's eating room, where I was not at all displeased to find a very substantial breakfast; for not having eaten anything since the meal which the Viceroy's negro had conveyed to me in prison, I was not lightly tormented with the demon of hunger. The corregidor received me with a great deal more profound respect than I found myself entitled to; and, seating me at the table, helped me to various dishes, which did great honour to the skill and taste of Achilles' friend, the cook. After a little, the servants were sent away, and the officer addressed me with an important and mysterious tone, upon the views and determinations of France.
"I am well aware, Monsieur le Comte de l'Orme," said he, "that the utmost secrecy and discretion are required in an agent of your character; and that, of course, you are bound to communicate with no one who cannot show you some authority for so doing; but if you will look at that letter from Monsieur de Noyers, one of your ministers, and written also, as you will see, by the express command of his eminence of Richelieu, you will have no longer, I am sure, any hesitation of informing me clearly, what aid and assistance your government intends to give us in our present enterprise."
I took the letter which he offered, but replied without opening it, "I am afraid, sir, that you greatly mistake the character in which I am here. You must look upon me simply as a French gentleman whom accident has conducted to your city, unauthorized, and, indeed, incompetent to communicate with any body upon affairs of state, and probably more in the dark than yourself, in regard to what aid, assistance, or countenance the French government intends to give to the people of Catalonia."
The corregidor shook his head, and opened his eyes, and seemed very much astonished. After falling into a reverie, however, for a moment or two, he began to look wiser, and replied, "Well, sir, I admire your prudence and discretion, and doubtless you act according to the orders of your government; but at the same time I must beg that, when you write to France, you will inform his eminence of Richelieu, that the Catalonian people are not to be trifled with, and that having, under promises of assistance from the French government, thrown off the Castilian yoke, we expect that France will immediately realize her promises, or we must apply to some other power for more substantial aid."
"Although I once more inform you, my dear sir," answered I, "that you entirely mistake my situation, yet at the same time, I shall be very happy to bear any communication you may think fit to the Cardinal de Richelieu, and in the meantime set your mind quite at ease about the assistance you require. The French government, depend upon it, will keep to the full every promise which has been made you. It is too much the interest of France to alienate Catalonia from the dominions of King Philip, to leave a doubt of her even surpassing your expectations in regard to the aid you hope for."
"Nay, this is consoling me most kindly!" cried the corregidor, persisting in attributing to me the character of a diplomatist, in spite of all my abnegation thereof; "may I communicate what you say to the members of the council, and the chief nobility of the province?"
"As my private opinion, decidedly," replied I; "but not in the least as coming from one in a public capacity, which would be grossly deceiving them."
"My dear young friend," said the corregidor, rising and embracing me with the most provoking self-satisfaction in all his looks, "doubt not my discretion. I understand you perfectly, and will neither commit you nor myself, depend upon it. As to your return to France, there is not a merchant in the town who will not willingly put the best vessel in the harbour at your command when you like; but if you wish to set out instantly, there is a brigantine appointed to sail for Marseilles this very day, at high water, which takes place at noon. Our despatches for the cardinal shall be prepared directly. I will superintend the embarkation of your sea-store, and though sorry to lose the assistance of your wise counsel, I am satisfied that your journey will produce the most beneficial effects to the general cause."
As I now saw that the corregidor had perfectly determined in his own mind that I should bear the character of an agent of the French government, whether I liked it or not, I was fain to submit, and take advantage of the opportunity of returning to my own country with all speed. It was therefore arranged that I should depart by the brigantine for Marseilles; and having seen Achilles, and ascertained that he would rather accompany me to France than stay beside the flesh-pots of Egypt, I gave him twenty louis from my little stock, and bade him embark with all speed, after having bought me some clothes, through the intervention of his friend the cook. I then proceeded with the corregidor to the viceregal palace.
On each side of the grand entrance were tied a number of horses, apparently lately arrived, heated and dusty, and, it appeared to me, stained with blood. There was a good deal of bustle and confusion, too, in the halls and passages--persons pushing in and out, parties of six and seven gathered together in corners, and various other signs of some new event having happened. We passed on, however, to the hall in which the council had assembled the night before, and here we found that it was again beginning to resume its sitting.
"Have you heard the news?" cried the alcayde of Lerida; "our horsemen have defeated a party of a hundred Arragonese cavalry, who were coming to the city, not knowing the revolution which had taken place. The whole troop has been slain or dispersed, and its leader brought in a prisoner."
At this moment Garcias beckoned me across the room, and leading me to one of the windows, he spoke to me with a rambling kind of manner, very different from the general clearness of his discourse, asking me a great many questions concerning the corregidor, his treatment of me, and all that had passed, of which I gave him a clear account, telling him my determination to depart for France immediately.
"You do right," said he, somewhat abruptly; "you might become involved more deeply than you could wish with the politics of our province. Did you look into the strong-room, to the right, at the bottom of the stairs, as you came up?"
"No," replied I, somewhat surprised at his strange manner. "Why do you ask?"
"Because if you had done so you would have seen an old friend," replied Garcias, biting his lip; "the Chevalier de Montenero, who lives near you at the white house below----"
"I know, I know whom you mean," cried I. "What of him?"
"Why he has been taken prisoner this morning," replied Garcias, "by one of the most deeply injured and most cruelly revengeful of our cavaliers. He is known to have been a dear friend of the late Viceroy, with whom he served in New Spain, and they demand that he be brought out into the square, and shot without mercy."
"They shall shoot me first!" replied I.
"Indeed!" said Garcias, composedly, and then added, a moment after, "and me too. I owe the Chevalier thanks for having sheltered me when I was pursued by the douaniers; and though he spake harshly of my trade, he shall not find me ungrateful. But see, the council are seating themselves! Go to them, make them as long a speech as you can about your going to France; avoid, if possible, denying any more that you are an agent of that government. You have done so once, which is enough. Let the corregidor persuade them and himself of what he likes--but, at all events, keep them employed till I come back, upon any other subject than the prisoners. I go to collect together some of my most resolute and trusty fellows, to back us in case of necessity. Quick! to the table! The alcayde is rising to speak."
I advanced; and while Garcias left the hall, I addressed the council without seating myself, apologizing to the alcayde, who was already on his feet, for pre-engaging his audience, and stating the short time I had to remain amongst them as an excuse for my doing so. I then, with as lengthy words and as protracted emphasis as I could command, went on, offering to be the bearer of any message, letter, or communication, to the government of France; at the same time promising to carry to my own country the most favourable account of all their proceedings. I dilated upon their splendid deeds, and their generous sentiments, but I fixed the whole weight of my eulogy upon their moderation in victory, and then darted off to a commendation of mercy and humanity in general; showing that it was always the quality of great and generous minds, and that men who had performed the most splendid achievements in the field, and evinced the greatest sagacity in the cabinet, had always shown the greatest moderation to their enemies when they were in their power. Still Garcias did not come; and I proceeded to say, that by evincing this magnanimous spirit, the Catalonians bound all good men to their cause, and that it would become not only a pleasure, but an honour and a glory to the nation who should assist them in their quarrel, and maintain them in their freedom. At the end of this tirade my eyes turned anxiously towards the door, for both topics and words began to fail me; but Garcias did not appear, and I was obliged to return to my journey to France. I begged them, therefore, to consider well the despatches they were about to send, and at the same time to have them made up with all convenient despatch; requesting that they would themselves give a full detail of what had already been done, of what they sought to do, and what they required from France; and after having exhausted my whole stock of sentences, I was at last obliged to end, by calling them "the brave, the moderate, the magnanimous Catalonians!"
What between the acclamation that was to follow this--for men never fail to applaud their own praises--and any discussion which might arise concerning the despatches, I hoped that Garcias would have time to return; but, at all events, I could not have manufactured a sentence more, if my own life had been at stake.
I was, however, disappointed in my expectations. The magnanimous Catalonians did not, indeed, neglect to shout; but the alcayde of Lerida, who was one of those men whose own business is always more important than that of any one else, rose, immediately after the noise had subsided, and represented to the council that they were keeping one of their most active and meritorious partisans, Gil Moreno, waiting with his prisoner; and that from the nature of the case, as he conceived it, five minutes would be sufficient to decide upon their course of action. He then ended with proposing, that before any other business whatever was entered upon, the prisoner should be brought before the council.
This was received with such a quick and cordial assent from all the members of the council, that it would have been worse than useless to resist it, and I was compelled to hear, unopposed, the order given for Gil Moreno to bring his prisoner to the council-chamber.
The Catalonian had probably been waiting with some impatience for this summons; and the moment after it was given, he presented himself before the council. If ever relentless cruelty was expressed in a human countenance, it was in his. He was a short man, very quadrate in form, with large, disproportioned feet and hands, and a wide, open chest, over which now appeared a steel corslet. His complexion was as dingy as a Moor's, and his features in general large, but not ill-formed. His eyes, however, were small, black as jet, and sparkling like diamonds; and his forehead, though broad and high, was extremely protuberant and heavy, while a deep wrinkle running between his eyebrows, together with a curve downwards in the corners of his mouth, and a slight degree of prominence of the under jaw, gave his face a bitter sternness of expression, which was not at all softened by a sinister inward cast of his right eye. Behind him was brought in, between two armed Catalonians, and followed by a multitude of others, the Chevalier--or, as the Spaniards designated him, the Conde de Montenero. His arms were tied tightly with ropes, but the tranquillity of his looks, the calmness of his step, and the dignity of his whole demeanour were unaltered; and he cast his eyes round the council slowly and deliberately, scanning every countenance, till his look encountered mine. The expression of surprise which his countenance then assumed is not easily to be described. I thought even that the sudden sight of one he knew, amongst so many hostile faces, called up, before he could recollect other feelings, even a momentary glance of pleasure, but it was like a sunbeam struggling through wintry clouds, lost before it was distinctly seen; and his brow knit into somewhat of a frown, as he ran his eye over the other members of the council.
"Speak, Gil Moreno," said the alcayde of Lerida, who being the first person that had received the news of the Chevalier's capture, had appropriated it to himself, as an affair which he was especially called upon to manage:--"what report have you to make to the supreme council of Catalonia?"
"A short one," answered Moreno, roughly. "On my patrol this morning, two miles from the city gate, I met with a body of Arragonese horse. I bade them stand, and give the word, when they gave the king; and I instantly attacked them--killed some--dispersed the rest, and took their captain. According to the orders given out last night, I brought him to the council, and now, because he is a known friend of the tyrant who died yesterday, was taken in arms against Catalonian freedom, and is in every way an enemy to the province, I demand that he be turned out into the Plaza, and shot, as he deserves."
"And what reason can the prisoner give, why this should not be the case?" demanded the alcayde, turning to the Chevalier.
"Very few," answered he, with somewhat of a scornful smile, "and those of such a nature that, from the constitution of this self-named council, they are not very likely to be received. The laws of arms--the common principles of right and justice--the usages of all civilized nations, and the feelings and notions of all men of honour."
It may easily be supposed, that such a speech was not calculated, particularly, to prejudice the council in favour of the speaker, and I would have given much to have stopped it in its course; but just as the Chevalier ended, my mind was greatly relieved by the reappearance of Garcias, who now took his seat by the side of the corregidor, while the alcayde replied: "Such reasons, sir," answered he, "must remain vague and insignificant, without you can show that they apply to your case, which as yet you have not attempted to prove."
"The application is so self-evident," said I, interposing, "that it hardly requires to be pointed out. If the Catalonians are a separate people, as they declare themselves, and at war with Philip, King of Castile, they are bound to observe the rights of nations, and to treat well those prisoners they take from their enemy. The common principles of right and justice require that every man should be proved guilty of some specific crime before he be condemned. The usages of all civilized nations sufficiently establish that no man is criminal for bearing arms, except it be against the land of his birth, or the government under which he lives; and the feelings of men of honour must induce you to respect, rather than to blame, the man who does his utmost endeavour in favour of the monarch whom he serves."
"Ho! ho! Sir Frenchman!" cried Moreno, glaring upon me with eyes, the cast in which was changed to a frightful squint by the vehemence of his anger--"come you here to prate to us about the laws of nations, and the feelings of honour? Know, that the Catalonians feel what is due to themselves, and their own honour, better than you or any other of your country can instruct them. Know, that they will have justice done upon their oppressors; and if you, Frenchman, do not like it, we care not for you, and can defend our own rights with our own hands. Once, and again, I demand the death of this prisoner, and if the council, as they choose to call themselves, do not grant it----"
"What then?" thundered Garcias. "The council, as they choose to call themselves! I say, the council as the Catalonian people have called them--and if they do not grant the death of the prisoner, what then?"
"Why then his life is mine, and I will take it," answered Moreno, drawing a pistol from his belt, and aiming at the head of the Chevalier, who stood as firm and unblenching as a rock. I was at the bottom of the table--opposite to me stood Moreno and the Chevalier: and without the thought of a moment, I vaulted across and seized the arm of the Catalonian. It was done like lightning--almost before I knew it myself, and feeling that he could no longer hit the Chevalier, the bloodthirsty villain struggled to turn the muzzle of the pistol upon me. A good many people pressed round us, embarrassing me by striving to aid me; and getting the pistol near my head, Moreno fired. The ball, however, did not injure me, but just grazing my neck, went on, and struck the alcayde of Lerida on the temple. He started up from his chair--fell back in it, and expired without uttering a word.
"By Heaven, he has killed one of the council!" cried Garcias. "Seize him! He shall die, by St. James!"
But Moreno turned to the crowd who filled that end of the hall. "Down with this self-elected council!" cried he; "down with them! They would make worse slaves of us than the Castilians had done. Who will stand by Moreno?"
"I will! I will!" cried each of the two who had entered with him to guard the Chevalier. "I will," uttered another voice behind him; but at the same instant the whole crowd, upon whom he had mistakingly relied, but who were, in fact, the most certain followers of Garcias, threw themselves upon Moreno, and those that had expressed themselves of his party, and in a moment the whole four were tied hand and foot, as surely as they had tied the Chevalier.
"I say, down with those who would introduce dissension and insubordination into the new government of Catalonia!" cried Garcias. "Members of the council," he added, "whatever services I may have rendered, and which I trust somewhat surpass those of this rebel to your authority, I seek no more than that share of influence which the people have bestowed upon me, in common with yourselves; and when I propose that the Conde de Montenero shall be well treated and his life spared, I do so merely as one of your own body, possessing but a single voice out of twelve. Let us, however, determine upon this directly, that we may proceed to the more important business of the despatches to be sent to France. Give me your votes."
Whatever might be the tone of moderation which Garcias assumed, his influence with the people was evidently so powerful, that of course it extended in some degree to the council; and their votes were instantly given in favour of what he proposed. The next consideration became how to dispose of the Chevalier. Every one present knew the unstable basis on which their authority rested; and in case of any change in the popular feeling, it was evident that the lives of all the prisoners would be the first sacrifice offered at the shrine of anarchy.
A good deal of vague conversation passed upon the subject, and finding that every one hesitated to make the proposition, which probably every one wished, I took it upon myself, and proposed, that, as an act of magnanimity, which a whole world must admire and respect, they should liberate the Chevalier de Montenero, and every other person attached to the Castilian government; merely taking the precaution of conveying them to the frontier of Catalonia. "At the same time," I said, "those Catalonians who were last night committed to prison upon frivolous accusations can be again examined. If not guilty of serious crimes, let them also be freed. Thus, the last thing I shall see, before returning to my own country, will be the greatest act of moderation which a victorious nation ever performed in the first excitement of its success."
While I spoke, the eyes of Gil Moreno, who had not been removed from the hall, glared upon me as if he could have eaten my heart; and when the council gave a general assent to the proposal, he turned away with a groan of disappointed rage, biting his upper lip with the teeth of the under jaw, till the contortion of his face was actually frightful.
On hearing the decision of the council, the Chevalier advanced a step, and addressed a few words to them. "Catalonians," said he, "you have acted in a different manner from that which I expected, and I therefore tell you, what I never would have done while the sword was suspended over my head--that I came not here with intentions hostile to your liberties. I knew not of any revolt having taken place in this province, although I had heard rumours that many galling oppressions had been inflicted on the people. My object in coming was to see an ancient companion in arms, who was the viceroy of this province; and I came by his own invitation, to assist him with my poor advice in controlling the irregularities and enormities of the undisciplined soldiery with which a bad minister had encumbered his government. By his request, also, I brought with me from Arragon a troop of guards, on whose good conduct he could rely, they having served under my command in Peru. Were my hands free, I could show you a letter from the viceroy, in which he commiserates your sufferings, and bitterly complains of the insubordination of the troops. I hear that you have slain him. If so, God forgive you, for he wished you well! In regard to your revolt from the crown of Spain, depend upon it you will be compelled, sooner or later, to return to the dominion of King Philip. It is not that I would speak in favour of the Count Duke Olivarez," he continued, seeing an irritable movement in the council; "that bad minister has injured me as well as you, and has been the cause of my having for years quitted Spain, wherein I had once hoped to have made my country: but still, by language, by manners, by geographical situation, Catalonia is an integral part of Spain, and----"
"We will spare you the trouble, sir," interrupted the corregidor, "of saying any more. We have cast off the yoke of Spain, and, by the aid of God, we will maintain our independence as a separate people; but should not that be granted us, we would have King Philip know, that sooner than return to the dominion under which we have suffered so much, we will give ourselves to any other nation capable of supporting by force of arms our division from Spain. Let the alguacils untie the prisoner's hands."
Shortly after the Chevalier had begun to speak, Garcias had quitted the hall, and he now returned, announcing that he had (with that prompt energy which peculiarly characterized him) already prepared a horse and escort for the Conde de Montenero, which would carry him safely to the limits of Catalonia. The Chevalier bowed to the council, glanced his eyes towards me, of whom, since his first entrance, he had taken no more notice than he bestowed on the person least known to him at the table, and then followed Garcias from the hall. I could not resist my desire to speak to him, and making a sudden pretence to leave the council, I pursued the steps of the Chevalier and his conductor to the small room in which he had been formerly confined. Garcias was turning away from him as I approached, saying, "The horse shall be up in an instant, but do not show yourself to the people till the last moment."
As he went I entered, and the Chevalier turned immediately to me, with that sort of frigid politeness, that froze every warmer feeling of my heart.
"I have to thank you, sir," said he, "for my life, which is valuable to me, not merely as life, but from causes which you may one day know; a few years, just now, are of more consequence to me than I once thought they ever could be. I therefore, sir, return you my thanks, for interposing both your voice and your person, this day, to save me from death."
"Monsieur de Montenero," replied I, "there has been a time, when your manner to me would have been very different; but I must rest satisfied with the consciousness of not meriting your regard less than I did then."
"I am sorry, sir," replied he, "that you compel me to look upon you in any other light than as a stranger who has interposed to save my life; but as it is so, allow me to say, that something else than mere assertion is necessary to convince me, on a subject which we had better not speak upon. Could you give anything better than assertion, I declare to Heaven, that your own father would not have the same joy in your exculpation from guilt--nay, not half so much, as I should!" and there shone in his eye a momentary beam of that kindness with which he once regarded me, that convinced me what he said was true.
"Monsieur de Montenero," replied I, "the reasons for my silence are removed, and I can give you something better than assertion."
"Then do, in God's name!" cried he, "and relieve my mind from a load that has burdened it for months. How you came here, or what you do here, I know not; but there is certainly some mystery in your conduct, which I cannot comprehend. Explain it all then, Louis, if ever the affection with which you once seemed to regard me was real."
I grasped his hand, for that one word Louis re-awakened, by the magic chain of association, all that regard in my bosom which his coldness and suspicion had benumbed; and in a moment more I should have told him enough to satisfy him that his doubts had been unfounded. But it seemed as if Heaven willed that that story was never to be told, for just as I was about to speak, Garcias returned in haste. "The horse is at the gate," said he, "and the guard prepared; mount, Señor, with all speed, and out by the Roses' gate, for Moreno's people have heard of his arrest, and are gathering at the other end of the town."
"Louis," said the Chevalier, turning to me, "if you will proceed with the explanation you were about to give, and can really satisfy my mind on that subject, I will stay and take my chance, for I shall no longer fear death for a moment."
This declaration, as may easily be supposed, surprised me not a little, after the value which he had before allowed that life possessed in his eyes; for whatever might be the interest which he took in me personally, and whatever might be the enthusiasm that characterized his mind, I could not conceive that, without some strong motive superadded, he would offer to risk so much for the sake of one, in regard to whose innocence he had shown himself almost unwilling to be convinced.
Garcias, however, permitted no hesitation on the subject. "Stay!" cried he, in an accent of almost indignant astonishment.--"When we have perilled both our lives to gain you the means of going, do you talk of staying? Señor de Montenero, you are not mad; and if you are, I am not; therefore I say, you must go directly, without a moment's pause;" and not allowing another word, he hurried him away, saw him mount, commanded the escort of twenty men, who accompanied him, to defend him with their lives; and then returning to me, led the way back to the council-hall.
"Members of the Supreme Council of Catalonia," said he abruptly as we entered, "our first duty is to show to the nation, that though we have cast off the yoke of Castile, we have not cast off the restraint of law. A member of this honourable body has been shot at the very council table, by a man acting in open rebellion to the authority committed to us by the people--we require no evidence of the fact, which was committed before our eyes. If we let the punishment slumber, justice and order are at an end; anarchy, slaughter, and confusion, must inevitably follow. Give me your voices, noble Catalonians. I pronounce Gil Moreno guilty of murder, aggravated by treason towards the nation, and therefore worthy of death! My vote is given!" He spoke rapidly and sternly; and after a momentary hesitation, and whispering consultation, the rest of the council unanimously agreed in his award.
"Take away the prisoner," said Garcias, and Moreno was removed. "Now let some noble Señor write the sentence," continued he: "I am no clerk, but I will attend to the execution of it."
The sentence was accordingly written; and having been signed by all the members of the council, Garcias took it, as he said, to have it fixed upon the front of the palace, and left us. His absence, however, had, beyond doubt, another object, for while the corregidor was, according to the direction of the council, writing a despatch from the provisional government of Catalonia, to the prime minister of France, the stern voice of the insurrectionary leader was heard in the square, giving the word of command, "Fire!" The report of a platoon was instantly heard; and it was not difficult to guess that Moreno had tasted of that fate which he had been so willing to inflict on others.
The despatches were soon prepared; and the council, willing to assume all the pomp of established authority, ordered me to be conducted to the port, as one of its members, with all sort of ceremony. Garcias remained at the palace, to take measures against any movement on the part of Moreno's partizans; but the corregidor accompanied me to the water side: and having formally resigned the seat, to which I had been called in the council, I embarked on board the brigantine, and took leave, for ever of Barcelona.