Carlos was now able to share his brother's joy with unselfish sympathy. With a peculiar kind of pleasure, not quite unmixed with superstition, he recalled Juan's boyish words, more than once repeated, "When I go to the wars, I shall make some great prince or duke my prisoner." They had found a fair, if not exactly literal, fulfilment, and that so early in his career. And a belief that had grown up with him from childhood was strengthened thereby. Juan would surely accomplish everything upon which his heart was set. Certainly he would find his father--if that father should prove to be after all in the land of the living.
Carlos was warmly welcomed back by his relatives--at least by all of them save one. To a mild temper and amiable disposition he united the great advantage of rivalling no man, and interfering with no man's career. At the same time, he had a well-defined and honourable career of his own, in which he bid fair to be successful; so that he was not despised, but regarded as a credit to the family. The solitary exception to the favourable sentiments he inspired was found in the bitter disdain which Gonsalvo, with scarcely any attempt at disguise, exhibited towards him.
This was painful to him, both because he was sensitively alive to the opinions of others; and also because he actually preferred Gonsalvo, notwithstanding his great and glaring faults, to his more calculating and worldly-minded brothers. Force of any kind possesses a real fascination for an intellectual and sympathetic, but rather weak character; and this fascination grows in intensity when the weaker has a reason to pity and a desire to help the stronger.
It was not altogether grace, therefore, which checked the proud words that often rose to the lips of Carlos in answer to his cousin's sneers or sarcasms. He was not ignorant of the cause of Gonsalvo's contempt for him. It was Gonsalvo's creed that a man who deserved the name always got what he wanted, or died in the attempt; unless, of course, absolutely insuperable physical obstacles interfered, as they did in his own case. As he knew well enough what Carlos wanted before his departure from Seville, the fact of his quietly resigning the prize, without even an effort to secure it, was final with him.
One day, when Carlos had returned a forbearing answer to some taunt, Doña Inez, who was present, took occasion to apologize for her brother, as soon as he had quitted the room. Carlos liked Doña Inez much better than her still unmarried sister, because she was more generous and considerate to Beatriz. "You are very good, amigo mio," she said, "to show so great forbearance to my poor brother. And I cannot think wherefore he should treat you so uncourteously. But he is often rude to his brothers, sometimes even to his father."
"I fear it is because he suffers. Though rather less helpless than he was six months ago, he seems really more frail and sickly."
"Ay de mi, that is too true. And have you heard his last whim? He tells us he has given up physicians for ever. He has almost as ill an opinion of them as--forgive me, cousin--of priests."
"Could you not persuade him to consult your friend, Doctor Cristobal?"
"I have tried, but in vain. To speak the truth, cousin," she added, drawing nearer to Carlos, and lowering her voice, "there is another cause that has helped to make him what he is. No one knows or even guesses aught of it but myself; I was ever his favourite sister. If I tell you, will you promise the strictest secrecy?"
Carlos did so; wondering a little what his cousin would think could she surmise the weightier secrets which were burdening his own heart.