"Calm thy temper, Alagraf," said Cañeri, interposing; "I meant not to offend thee, and if I have, I pray thy indulgence: thou art sensible of the friendship which unites us; it is from the zeal of that friendship, that I continually urge the questions which thou seemest to avoid. Great must be the nature of thy sufferings, and powerful the motive which provokes such unusual signs of emotion; yet surely some consolation might be found in trusting thy secret to the bosom of a comrade."
The renegade remained silent for a few minutes; then, as if suddenly adopting a fresh resolution—
"Cañeri," he said, "oft has thine officious zeal, or weak curiosity, fatigued my ears with repeated questions that are daggers to my soul. I will now satisfy thy craving; yes, I will unravel the mystery that hangs around my head. By this concession I may perhaps acquire the right to brood over my wrongs and misfortunes undisturbed and unmolested in future.
"Cañeri," he continued, "all the calamity which is now the portion of the man that stands before thee—all the struggles, the racking throes that torture this seared breast, arise from one solitary cause—the offspring of one crime, and of that crime the unhappy victim who suffers by it is innocent. The rites of religion never blessed my mother's bridal bed, and I was born a thing despised, looked down upon by the proud ones of the land, pointed at by the urchins, and even taunted by the beggar as he went his rounds. But nature, that made me a thing to be contemned, gave me no feelings congenial to such a state. I was endowed with sentiments more noble, and greater powers of mind than those who affected to spurn me. I know not my father, nor was I ever anxious to learn a name to me so full of misery, and which could claim no other token from his child than a malediction. This much I learnt—that my parent was a nobleman; but what unnatural cruelty could induce him to abandon his offspring, I never was able to determine. I was brought up a retainer in the house of the sire of my bitter foe, Don Lope Gomez Arias, where I was subjected to indignities at which my proud nature revolted, whilst the obscurity of my birth powerfully contributed to exasperate those feelings already too much excited by repeated contumelies and scorn. Wherever I turned my eyes I discovered a dreary waste in the midst of society; for I was an outcast, and I felt no sympathy with the uses of the world. Chance made me a wretch, and nature unkindly gave me feelings and sentiments to heighten the misery to which my existence was doomed. Alas! my dark and repulsive exterior gave an additional motive to justify the dislike with which I was generally beheld.
"Such a life," interrupted Cañeri, "must have been insupportable."
"It might," nobly answered the renegade, "to a weak mind—not to mine, for the very injustice of my fate gave me courage to support it. I rose superior to my misfortunes, and nourished a sensation of mixed hatred and contempt towards my kind: I assiduously nurtured sentiments calculated to make me believe myself independent in the bosom of slavery and degradation.—Yes, I had a beam of cheering hope, a wild and romantic emulation, a noble ambition, to acquire by my own deeds, my daring exertion, that which was denied me by the combined oppositions of birth and station. My pretensions were supported by my pride, and spread a solitary but brilliant light amidst the darkness with which my existence was clouded. In these sentiments I grew, hated and abhorring, despising and contemned. The springs of my heart, which would have sympathised with human nature, seemed to have been dried up for ever. I found myself incapable of any kindly feeling, and my whole being was wrapped in that dismal and isolated gloom which, like the mephitic vapour, tended to paralyze the exertions and blight the fair prospects of life. Alas! I was mistaken; for, to my misfortune, I eventually discovered that I was a man, subject to the weakness of human nature, that the depths of my heart, which I had judged impenetrable to the influence of the softer passions, were soon to be deeply stirred, and that I was fated to experience those sentiments which I had proudly imagined to be foreign to my nature.
"Amongst the numberless beings who conspired to render me wretched—amongst the many whom I was forced to look upon more as natural foes than fellow-creatures, there was one who first beheld me with a genuine and heavenly feeling of compassion, and from that sweet and pure emanation of sensibility soon sprung the most tender and devoted attachment. This being, generous and kind, this solitary exception to the overwhelming mass of hatred that encompassed me, for whose dear sake alone I might forgive my parents for the miserable life they bestowed upon me—this being was a woman—a woman, alas! for our mutual woe! She was as abundant in personal attractions as she was rich in mental beauty. She loved, aye! she devotedly loved the unhappy Bermudo, the wretched outcast, from whom every one else recoiled. She loved him, and she found in that dark form, in that being so degraded and despised, a heart capable of feeling and estimating a genuine passion. Yes, in this desolate wilderness of my heart, not all was then barren, and the kindly feelings sowed by her hand took root and budded forth; I fostered them, and they flourished as vigorously as if they had been cast in a more generous mould. I loved her! Oh, Anselma! Five years have passed since that dreadful moment, but yet the bloody scene is glowing, burning in my memory. I see thy mangled form, thy beauteous limbs broken, and thy long dishevelled hair clotted with gore. Anselma! Anselma! I did not follow thee to thy untimely grave, for I had to plan and accomplish the deed of vengeance.—I cannot weep: the sad fountains of these eyes are long since dry, but my scorched heart still weeps with tears of blood, when the scenes of thy youth, thy love, and thy horrid fate crowd upon my agonized recollection."
The renegade could not proceed; his agitation became terrible, and all the occurrences of his past life were busy in distorting those features and adding to their natural ferocity. Cañeri looked aghast, for his frivolous soul could not easily comprehend the nature of an attachment so fervent, so deeply rooted, as to produce the violent effects which he now witnessed. But his wonder increased as he perceived that gust of uncontroulable passion gradually subside and give place to a kinder emotion than he thought congenial to the being that stood before him. The renegade was again calm. A tear stood trembling in his eye, and that pitying drop spoke of affections long subdued, but not entirely extinct in the breast of him who had but few tears to bestow. Soon, however, his glassy eyes were fixed, and as Bermudo raised mechanically his long sinewy fingers to his burning forehead, his countenance became the index of a mind engaged in scenes far away. It was a deep though momentary abstraction, for as Cañeri gazed in amazement, the renegade awoke from his trance, and became aware of the notice which his emotion had excited. He felt ashamed that a token of weakness should have betrayed him before man, and with a strong exertion strove to smother the commotion which swelled his breast. He dashed away the drop that fain would soften the lurid expression of his eye. His pride succeeded in the conflict: soon that lip recovered its sardonic curl, and his features relapsing into their calm and gloomy ferocity, he then proceeded—
"Gomez Arias, upon whom nature had lavished her choicest gifts, only as the means of following with greater success his licentious courses—Gomez Arias saw the beautiful Anselma. Her attractions and innocence could not escape his observation, and he marked her out for his prey. Curse the day his wily smile first lighted on the unfortunate girl!"
"She did not then," interrupted Cañeri, "fall into the snare of the seducer?"