“I will not discuss the character of the Father Malagrida,” answered the Marquis. “But tell me how you would wish me to act, for against the sacred life of his Majesty will I not lift up my hand.”
“I would wish you to act like a high noble of Portugal, worthy of your Puritano descent,” returned Donna Leonora. “I would wish you to protect the high order to which you belong from the encroachments of the King and his Minister, and I would wish you to take fitting vengeance for every insult offered you.”
“In overthrowing the Minister, am I ready to hazard all; and never will I act otherwise than as becomes a high noble of the realm; nor will my sword be slow to avenge any insult offered to me or mine; but of the King have I ever been a faithful servant, and faithful will I die. Urge me then no more to engage in conspiracies which can but end in the destruction of all concerned.” The Marquis rose as he spoke, and quitted the apartment, as the most easy way of finishing the discussion.
His lady gazed at his retiring form, but attempted not to stop him. “Oh! that I were a man, to lead the faint-hearted beings with whom I am associated!” she exclaimed. “The slightest shadow of danger frightens them from the most noble undertakings; the prophets of Heaven counsel them, but they will not listen to their words; even if the dead were to arise to assure them of it, they would not believe that the deed is a righteous one, and must be successful. Yet have I still some hopes that my lord will not close his ears to the divine words of the holy Malagrida, and that he may be brought round to follow his counsels. I will pray to the Blessed Virgin that she will turn his heart to the right path.”
The Marchioness then retired to her own chamber, and, throwing herself on her knees before her private altar, she poured forth her prayers to her patron saint for the success of an enterprise, which was for the destruction of a King, the placing an usurper on his throne, the restoration of a tyrannical order of the priesthood, and the enslaving a whole people with the grossest of superstitions; yet not for a moment did it occur to her that she was performing an act otherwise than grateful to Heaven. No; she fully believed that her motives were pure and holy; and she felt assured that pride, ambition, and hatred formed no part of her incentives to action. Yet were they the chief motives, veiled from her own eyes by a fancied zeal for religion.
In the mean time, Antonio and Manoel Ferreira, two of the principal servants of the Marquis, as soon as they were released from attendance on their master, hurried off to the Quinta of the Duke of Aveiro, which was at no great distance from that of the Tavoras.
“What think you that villain Teixeira deserves for thus daring to insult our lord?” said Manoel to his brother, as they walked along.
“Nothing less than his death would satisfy me, if I were in our master’s place,” answered Antonio.
“My very thought,” said the other.
“But then, you know that it would be beneath the dignity of so great a lord as our master to slay with his own hand a man of such low birth as this upstart Teixeira,” observed Antonio.