Jacobo, though we had not met for many months, I knew was in that part of the country, following the honest calling of a Contrabandista, and I felt, in honour, bound to grant this request of my old friend and ever faithful lieutenant. My followers, however, objected strongly to spare either the ——, or his attendants, and a violent altercation ensued; for, I declared that my life must be taken ere that of any one of our prisoners.
Four only of the band sided with me, and we had already assumed a hostile attitude, when the —— called earnestly upon me to desist.
“Peril not your sinful souls!” he exclaimed, “by hurrying each other, unrepented of your manifold sins, into the presence of an offended Maker.—Take our gold—take every thing we possess; and if those misguided men cannot be satisfied without blood, let mine flow to save the lives of these, my followers, who have stronger ties than I to bind them to this world.”
My hot temper, little used to contradiction, would listen, however, to no terms; my word was pledged that the —— and his attendants should go free, and my word was never given in vain. I persisted, therefore, in declaring that those must pass over my body who would touch a hair of the ——’s head, or take a maravedi from his purse.... If he chose to make them a present after he had been released, he was his own master to do so.
This delicate hint was eagerly seized by the worthy dignitary’s attendants, and a large sum of money was distributed amongst the gang, in which I declined sharing. The ——, meanwhile, remounted his mule, and, calling me to his side, placed a valuable ring upon my finger. “I am indebted to you for my life, Blas Maldonado,” he said, with the most lively emotion; “but that is little; I owe to you—what I value infinitely more—the safety of these faithful attendants, whose attachment had led them, like Simon Peter, to defend their Pastor. Such debts cannot be cancelled by any gift I can bestow, and it is not with that view I offer you this bauble, but a day may come when you may need an intercessor—if so, return this ring to me by some faithful member of our holy church, and let me know how I can serve you: or—which is probable, considering my age and infirmities—should I, ere that comes to pass, have been called from this world to give an account of my stewardship; then, fear not to lay it at the foot of Fernando’s throne, and, in the name of its donor, beg for mercy. I trust you may not have occasion to require its services, for my prayers shall not be wanting for your conversion from your present evil ways—my blessing be upon you—farewell.”
How powerful is the influence of religion! Whilst listening to the worthy ——’s words, my head, which since the days of my childhood no act of devotion had ever led me to uncover, was bared as if by instinct; and, to receive the blessing he had called down upon me, I humbled myself to the earth!
Although those of the band who had so vehemently opposed sparing the ——’s life had finally been satisfied with the donation bestowed upon them, yet their disobedience made me determine on ejecting them from my band, and accordingly, accompanied only by my four supporters in the late dispute, I proceeded to my old rendezvous, Montejaque, hoping to pick up some recruits. I purposed, also, availing myself of the first favourable opportunity to remove my wife and child to that place, it being more conveniently situated, and offering greater security than even Cañete la Real.
We had been there but a few days, when I received a letter without a signature, but in the well-known characters of my bosom friend, Miguel Clavijo, under whose protection I had placed my wife and child, giving warning of impending danger to them. There was yet time to avert it, my correspondent concluded, but in twenty-four hours from the date of this communication, their fate would probably be sealed.
It was within two hours of sunset when I received this letter, and eight hours had already elapsed since it had been written. Not a moment, therefore, was to be lost. I procured a pillion, and, placing it on an active horse, set off with all possible haste for Cañete, keeping along the course of the river Ariate to avoid the town of Ronda, and traversing at full speed the village bearing the name of the stream, in order to escape recognition.
I reached the rounded summit of the chain of hills which forms the northern boundary of the cultivated valley of Ronda, just as the sun was sinking behind the western mountains; and, checking my horse to give him a few moments’ breath ere commencing the rugged descent on the opposite side, I turned round to see if all were quiet in the wide-spread plain I had just traversed, and that no one was following my traces. At this moment the last ray of the glorious luminary lit upon the distant town of Grazalema. The remarkable coincidence of the warning of treason I had received there on this very day, twelve years before, came vividly to mind, and with it the recollection of my extraordinary escape from the snare laid for me—the debt of gratitude due to her who had risked her life, and sacrificed her honour to save me—the cruelty with which my preserver had been treated. Poor abandoned Paca! From the moment of our angry separation, never had I once taken the trouble of enquiring what had been her fate. Scarcely, indeed, had I ever bestowed a thought upon her.