De L'Orme. / The Works of G. P. R. James, Esq., Vol. XVI.

by G. P. R. James

"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."