The Prime Minister

by William Henry Giles Kingston

This warning, uttered in a determined voice, seemed to have some effect on the obfuscated intellects of the party of debauchees, particularly as the speaker had disarmed two of them, who fell back for support among their companions, by whom, in mistake, they were very nearly run through the body. A few slight scratches had been received by the assailants, which appeared to satisfy them with fighting, and they were retreating, forgetful of their wounded friend, when Luis sprung forward to aid him. What was his horror, when, on Pedro recovering his torch, which had remained burning on the ground, and bringing it to the spot, he beheld in the features of his fallen antagonist those of the young Gonçalo, the brother of Clara.

He was senseless, Luis trusted, more from the fall, or from intoxication, than from the effects of his wound; for he still breathed heavily, although blood flowed freely from his side. As he was about to raise him, some of his companions appeared to have recollected his disaster; and returning, without apparently noticing Luis and his friends, they lifted him amongst them from the ground, and, with staggering steps, bore him along, not uttering a word during the time, till they were nearly out of sight.

Luis was in doubts whether he ought not to follow, to see that more attention was paid to the wounded man, than his friends were likely to be able, in their present state, to afford; but the captain recommended him not to interfere, observing, that as they had sense enough left to carry him out of the road, they would send for the nearest barber to bind up his side, which was all that a clean sword wound required.

“Oh, but he is the brother of my Clara, and may die from the wound he has received,” exclaimed Luis.

“That alters the case,” said the Captain, and they set forward to overtake the bearers of the wounded man; but though they walked quickly along, by the time they came up with the party whom they fancied were carrying him, he was not to be seen among them. To their inquiries, the people assured them that they must be mistaken, as they had themselves but just turned down from another street, and had heard no sounds of the fray. They then followed another group, whose voices they heard a little in advance; but with like want of success, the people holding silence directly they approached.

“He has, perhaps, been conveyed to the palace of the Conde San Vincente,” exclaimed Luis; so they hurried down the street towards it; for it was, as we have said, close at hand; but no one appeared in the neighbourhood, and when, at length, they knocked at the door, after a long time it was opened, and a surly porter declared that no one had been there all that evening, nor had his master left his home since the morning, and had now been in bed for some hours. This might, or might not, have been true; but Luis had no other resource than to return with his friend homeward, dispirited, and full of regret at the accident, wishing that he rather had been the victim; for, should Gonçalo die, he would be looked upon as his murderer, and another barrier, far more insuperable than the former, would be placed against any prospect of his union with Clara. The best consolation the kind-hearted sailor could offer, was, in endeavouring to persuade him, that the wound the young fidalgo had received was probably slight, and that he would recover in a few days; that Luis was in no way to blame, the encounter on his side being perfectly unsought, and that the sufferer and his friends must view it in the same light; indeed, he used every argument that most people would have done in a like case, to soothe the mind of his young friend, though they were of little avail; and it was almost daylight when Luis fell asleep, with his hopes at a lower ebb than he had ever before found them.

With increased anxiety, he repaired, on the following morning, to the church where he was to meet Senhora Gertrudes; and, true to her appointment, he found her kneeling at the same spot, where he had encountered her on the previous day. Notwithstanding the recent unfortunate occurrence, he had resolved to send the letter he had written to Clara; for when his hand had penned it, that was yet unstained with her brother’s blood, as his heart was still guiltless of any intention of shedding it.

The old nurse, however, was unconscious of anything that had occurred. “Oh, senhor,” she said, “I am so glad that you have not been prevented from coming; for I have got leave to visit my young mistress this very morning, and though she loves me dearly, I am sure that I shall be a more welcome visitor if I carry your little note. Where is it, senhor? Stay,—that nobody may see you deliver it, have the kindness to return me my pocket-handkerchief, which I will drop.” Upon which, she adroitly drew the article she mentioned from her pocket, and let it fall by the side of Don Luis, who, stooping down, restored it to her with the letter, which he had conveyed under it.

As she felt the size of the packet, she whispered, “I am afraid, senhor, this is much larger than the little note I promised to carry; but, never mind, I dare say that you have a great deal to say to my young lady, which she will like to hear; and I don’t think a long note can do more harm than a short one, so be assured she shall have it. Poor dear, I would do anything to please her.”

Luis was longing, all the time the old lady was speaking, to put in a word to inquire for the young Gonçalo. To his question, she answered, that the young master’s habits were so very irregular, that no one remarked upon his remaining away for a night; that she had not seen him that morning, nor did she think that he had returned home on the previous evening; but that, just as she was leaving the palace, she was surprised to meet, at that unusually early hour, his friend the Conde San Vincente, (whom she took the opportunity to abuse,) just entering the hall; that she thought he might have come to speak to the younger Gonçalo, or, perhaps, to his father.