On an occasion like the present, our friend Antonio, the soi-disant cobbler, was certain not to be absent; and, unnoticed by any, in his working costume, he moved among the crowds, collecting the various reports with indefatigable industry; though, whenever he had an opportunity of putting in a word, he cautioned his hearers not to accuse any without clear evidence of their guilt, but that if the criminals were discovered, they would deserve condign punishment. Great, however, was the surprise of all, both the friends and enemies of the Tavoras, when the Prime Minister himself appeared at a window of the palace, and, lifting up his hand to impose silence, assured the populace that not only was the King alive, but that, as far as he could learn, no attempt whatever had been made against his august life; that the report had arisen, probably, owing to some words uttered by the postilion in his alarm, when the mules of his Majesty’s carriage had taken fright; that, owing to the latter circumstance, the carriage had been thrown on one side, by which his gracious Majesty had received a slight injury in the arm.
“Long live the King!—viva, viva!” exclaimed the populace, on hearing this announcement; for they are ever ready to shout, it matters little to them for whom. The cry saluted the ears of the Duke of Aveiro, who, followed by Senhor Policarpio, rode up, with eager haste, the very first of the nobility, to make inquiries for his sovereign’s health. His cheek, perchance, turned a shade more pale, as he heard the cry; but, dashing onward, regardless of the collected rabble, he dismounted at the gate of the palace, desiring to be admitted to the presence of the King. The Prime Minister alone received him in the audience-chamber, and, with marked suavity and courtesy, assured him that the King could not then receive him, but would do so on the earliest occasion.
“I came to offer my services to sally forth, with my attendants, in search of the vile perpetrators of the dreadful outrage committed against his Majesty,” said the Duke.
“What! my lord Duke, do you give credence to the absurd story which has got about, that our beloved sovereign’s life has been attempted?” said the Minister, with a bland smile. “Calm your apprehensions: I trust so black a traitor does not exist in Portugal.”
The Duke was completely deceived.
“I indeed rejoice to hear that the report was unfounded, Senhor Carvalho,” he answered; “and pray inform me the first moment his Majesty is sufficiently recovered from his indisposition to receive me, for I long to throw myself at his feet, and express my deep loyalty and devotion.”
As the Duke took his leave, and was retiring, the Minister muttered, gazing sternly after him, “So humble and loyal already, my lord Duke? Your pride shall yet be brought lower than you think of!”
The nobility now flocked in numbers to the palace, some, perhaps, with a hope that the report might prove true, others with fears for the consequences, and, among them, the Marquis of Tavora drove up in his carriage. Carvalho received him with the most respectful courtesy, assuring him of the King’s regard; the frank expression of the Marquis’s countenance setting at fault the sagacity of the Minister, if he had entertained any suspicions of his loyalty.
“Ah, my lord Marquis, it would be happy for other countries if they possessed no worse traitors than live in Portugal!” observed the Minister. “By-the-bye, you made an application to his Majesty for a ducal title, not long ago, and I heard the King regretting he had then refused you, but observing, that he now considered your services in India entitled you to the rank. He does not forget his friends.”
“I am grateful for his Majesty’s recollection of my wishes. I shall esteem the honour greater as a gift from him,” answered the Marquis.