The air of dignity and importance which Cañeri had resumed with his change of fortune, was displayed to an extent that might render him extravagantly ridiculous in the judgment of any sober individual. He already considered himself a sovereign firmly established on his throne, and he took no precaution to disguise the impulses of his over-bearing vanity and despotic character. Thus, while he was apparently serving the cause of independence, he afforded an opportunity to his enemies of truly estimating the purity of his intentions.
Cañeri paid a visit to Theodora immediately upon her arrival; but, according to the agreement with the renegade, he limited his attentions to the mere phrases of gallantry and courtly good nature. This ostentatious shew of civility, however, did not arise from a generous disposition, but merely constrained necessity. The renegade was continually present to his thoughts, and though his superior in command he was forced involuntarily to yield that tribute of respect, which resolution and courage are sure to exact from the feeble, however humble the situation in which their possessor may be placed. Besides this, though his passion for the fair Christian had not abated, his heart was now too much engrossed with objects highly gratifying to his vanity and pride, to suffer the charms of a captive to rule there with undisputed and despotic sway. His visits, therefore, were short, and he soon left Theodora to the undisturbed possession of her own thoughts. She no longer exhibited those signs of exquisite anguish or passionate delirium. Keen and protracted suffering had rendered her in some measure callous to the stings of sorrow. Musing melancholy and listlessness as to her fate disputed alternately the possession of that heart, once so fruitful in every tender feeling, in all the genuine virtues of female loveliness and merit. But, alas! the situation of the unhappy Theodora was, indeed, more distressing than heretofore. Hope now no longer illumined her heart; amidst the darkness which had over-clouded her imagination, no cheering light shone upon her path to lead her from misery. But the dereliction of hope is not the worst enemy of virtuous woman. No, it is the loss of salutary fear, and Theodora was nearly sinking into that lamentable state of indifference which generally succeeds the extinction of youthful hope and affection. Every thing seemed to conspire against Theodora. The secluded and retired nature of her education, and the tenderness of her age deprived her of those auxiliaries to combat her present state, which a woman of greater knowledge of the world, and more advanced in years, would gather from these very circumstances.
Roque had, by order of Cañeri, a free access to Theodora, and he took special care frequently to profit by the permission granted. This was some solace for the unfortunate girl; the interviews with the valet diverted her thoughts by the lively, though ludicrous, pictures which he drew of their future release from their present thraldom. The very night of their arrival at Alhaurin, Roque was giving to his mistress a circumstantial account of his conversation with Marien Rufa, when the door of the apartment swung open, and the renegade boldly entered without any previous announcement. His sudden appearance caused the greatest perturbation and alarm, both to Roque and his mistress. The unseasonable hour of the visit, and the interest evinced by the renegade towards Theodora, were naturally indicative of some sinister intention. Theodora, however, recovering from her first surprise, involuntarily drew back as Bermudo advanced. Meanwhile Roque was at a loss what to think or to do; the flutter of his whole person plainly indicated how ill at ease he was with himself. He looked at his mistress, and perceiving her emotion, felt more afraid, though on what account he was perfectly unconscious. But Roque was not long suffered to remain in uncertainty with respect to his own feelings. Bermudo, with a most haughty demeanor, made a sign to the valet to quit the place, and as Roque deliberated between regard for his mistress and dread for his own dear self, the renegade, to bring about a final determination, laid his hand on his weapon, an argument which completely set at rest the valet's doubts, and convinced him of the necessity of a speedy retreat.
Theodora perceiving how easily Bermudo had succeeded in convincing Roque, and knowing the obsequious manner in which the valet acted when such sort of conviction was forced upon him, deeply felt the danger of her situation, if abandoned by the only being who might interest himself in her fate.
"Oh! Roque, do not leave me," she pathetically exclaimed; "stay—I cannot remain alone with this dark, this terrible man."
Roque cast a melancholy look on his mistress; her piteous appeal went to his heart, but a terrible glance from the renegade seemed to make still stronger impression, for he quickly resumed his retrograde motion.
"He must be gone," said Bermudo resolutely, waving his hand in a most expressive manner, which considerably tended to expedite the valet's exit.
He retired, therefore, and Theodora no sooner found herself deprived of this last frail protection, than with an assumption of fierce dignity:—
"Renegade!" she cried, "what means this intrusion? Were then all thy former marks of regard but the insidious means to cover the real intentions of a miscreant heart? Away!—begone!—I will alarm the place,—yes, I will call on the protection of Cañeri himself, for odious as he is to my eyes, I can never look upon him with the same degree of abhorrence and contempt as I do on a renegade to his faith, a traitor to his country, and the vile minister to a despot's pleasures."
Bermudo heard these bold and severe rebukes without attempting an interruption. Calm and unmoved he suffered the first ebullition of resentment to evaporate, and for some time deigned to make no other reply than a bitter smile of disdain.