Luis brought the flask, when Gonçalo, somewhat revived by a draught of the light refreshing wine of Lisbon, commenced an account of his adventures since the fatal night when Luis had so unintentionally wounded him. His sentences were short and broken, he frequently being obliged to stop, in order to recover strength to proceed.
“I was half mad with intoxication and the excitement of revelry, when, urged on by my evil counsellor, San Vincente, I made that wanton assault upon you, for which I have been so severely punished; but I must confess, that when your sword entered my side, I felt that I deserved my fate. When I returned to consciousness,—for in my fall I must have struck my head, which, aided by the effects of wine, had rendered me insensible—I found myself borne rapidly along the streets by several men. I inquired where they were carrying me; but, though I repeated the question several times, I received no answer; and at length, from the copious effusion of blood, I again fainted. When I once more recovered my senses, I found myself in a low vaulted chamber, on a mean pallet, with the rest of the scanty furniture of the commonest description, and a wrinkled old hag, of the most sinister expression of countenance, sitting in one corner, occupied in spinning. I anxiously inquired where I was; but, putting her finger to her mouth, she pretended to be dumb, to prevent my asking further questions; nor had I the slightest means of conjecturing to what part of the city I had been conveyed. When I endeavoured to rise, I found myself too weak to stand, and was obliged to give up the attempt in despair. It now occurred to me that I had been brought to this place for some sinister motive, and, though I acquitted you of having any share in my detention, I began strongly to suspect that San Vincente was the author of the outrage. I had for some days previously entertained uneasy doubts as to his character, which, in my more serious moments, made me regret that I had favoured his suit to my sister. I recollected, also, that I had lately won from him, at the gambling-table, some large sums of money; and now, incensed against him, I deemed him capable of the darkest acts. It struck me that he supposed, if he married my sister, I should release him from his debt, or, if he could get me out of the way, he should be equally free. Subsequent events proved the correctness of my supposition. Why he did not murder me at once, when I was so entirely in his power, I have never been able, to this day, to determine. Either he is not so bad as I suspected, and felt some compunction at killing an old friend, and the brother of his intended wife, or the fear of discovery and punishment deterred him. I remained thus for two days, without seeing anybody but the old woman, who still retained her taciturnity, and even when she brought me a scanty allowance of food, did so with a morose and unwilling air.
“Never could I forget, if life were prolonged, the awful sensations I experienced when the first shock of the earthquake was felt. I was alone, unable to move,—the terrific sound rang in my ears,—the groans of the dying, the shrieks of despair, reached even that remote spot,—the walls and roof trembled and cracked,—pieces fell around and on me,—I was almost stifled by the dust; yet, utterly helpless, I resigned myself to my fate. Shock after shock occurred, yet still, to my surprise, the walls stood uninjured. I was reserved for more severe suffering.”
He ceased speaking, from exhaustion.
“Ah!” thought Luis, as this account brought back the recollection of that dire event, “at that time was I rescuing your sweet sister from destruction. Both our fates have been cruel; yet yours, poor youth, even worse than mine.”
Gonçalo, now recovering, continued. “For the whole of that day of horrors, and the following one, I continued without food, becoming each moment more weak, till I thought death must put an end to my suffering, when a tall masked figure entered the vault, a few streams of light, entering from a barred window near the roof, enabling me to distinguish him. At a glance, notwithstanding his disguise, I recognised the Count San Vincente. He looked eagerly towards the spot where I lay, and Heaven forgive me, if I wrong him in believing that he felt disappointed on discovering I was still in existence. Without uttering a word, he directly quitted the vault, and soon afterwards returned with a basket of provisions, which he placed within my reach. He remained not a moment longer than was necessary, nor did I venture to trust myself in speaking to him. I heard him lock and bolt the door after him, as he retired. The old woman never returned; and for the two following days I was left entirely alone.
“During the third night, I was aroused from slumber by a noise near me, and, looking up, by the light of a lantern I beheld several men standing round my bed; a cloth was then thrown over my head, my arms were bound, and I felt myself lifted up, and placed upon a sort of litter, as I concluded, for immediately I perceived that I was being borne along at a rapid rate, and in the open air. I was too feeble to raise my voice; but once, when I attempted to cry out, a person whispered in my ear a warning to be silent, or that death would be my fate. The motion continued for some time, till at last it stopped, and I found myself again placed upon a bed. My arms were then released, but, before I could remove the cloth from my head, my bearers had disappeared, and I found myself in total darkness and silence. Here was new matter for speculation, but I was still utterly at a loss to comprehend the reasons for my removal, or whither I had been conveyed; indeed, I have never learnt to a certainty, though I suspect it was to some house belonging to my persecutor, San Vincente. When the morning dawned, I found that I was in an apartment rather better furnished than my last place of imprisonment, but with only one small window, high up in the wall, and that closely barred with iron. A surly-looking ruffian made his appearance twice a day to bring me food and make my bed, but, like the old woman, he never uttered a word. He, however, brought me a collection of books, which solaced my captivity, and I verily believe prevented me from losing my senses altogether. Several months thus passed away, and I was at length able to rise and walk about my room. The first use I made of my renewed strength was to try the door, but I found it secured by bolts, and plated with iron. I then climbed up to the window, but the walls were thick, and a board sloping upwards from the lower part prevented me seeing aught but a broad expanse of sky. This was a grievous disappointment; indeed, my spirits sank under it, though my strength continued to improve. When my surly attendant perceived that I was strong enough to attempt to, escape, I observed that he invariably came into my room armed with a pistol and dagger, keeping a wary eye, during the time he remained, on every movement I made. This dreadful life of solitude I could no longer endure; my health gave way under it, and I again took to my bed. I entreated the ruffian to send a physician to me, or a priest, to give me the consolations of religion, but he looked at me with a grim smile, without answering, and no one appeared. Gradually I became worse and worse, till I fully believed myself to be dying, so thought also my attendant. One night I awoke from my sleep to find my eyes blinded, and my hands bound as before, when I was brought thither. I was then gagged, while a voice whispered in my ear, ‘If one sound escapes you, this dagger shall silence you for ever!’ and, at the same time, I felt its sharp point at my breast. I was now lifted up, and found myself suddenly placed in a carriage, which immediately drove on for a considerable time; when it stopped, I was once more lifted from it, and borne along till I heard the sound of bolts and bars withdrawn, when I was placed on the bed where I now lie, and from which I never more expect to rise. Here I have for months been confined, and it seems a miracle to myself that I have existed so long. Except the compassionate gaoler’s, yours is the first friendly face I have seen since you last beheld me with my sword raised against your life. Pardon me, my friend, for that deed, for I have bitterly expiated it.”
Luis assured the unfortunate youth not only of his forgiveness, but of his sincere commiseration for his sufferings.
“Soon after my arrival here, I gained a clue to ascertain the reason of my last removal,” continued Gonçalo. “The Governor of the prison came one evening into my cell, and no sooner did my eye fall upon him, than I recognised a person on whom I had once inflicted chastisement for an insult he had offered me, and whom I well knew to have been at one time an intimate acquaintance of San Vincente’s, though he had latterly pretended to have discarded him. I knew why he came—it was to gloat over my sufferings—to reap his revenge. He is a wretch capable of any atrocity—base, mercenary, and avaricious. He told me that I was a prisoner for life, accused of treason; that my name was Diogo Lopez, and that I was spared under the plea of insanity. He then quitted me with a grin of gratified malice on his countenance. I feel confident that the plot was concerted between the two. San Vincente has easily bribed him to engage in it, and gratify his own revenge at the same time; he probably feared that I should die in his custody, when he might have some difficulty in disposing of my body; or, perhaps, he was anxious to destroy me sooner, which he knew sending me here would do. Once incarcerated under a false name, as a condemned criminal, I should here remain without a hope of release, all responsibility being removed from him; and dying, as he knew I soon must, I shall be buried with the other wretches who end their lives here. This is my allotted fate, and, had you not discovered me, it would never have been known. You will, I know, inform my father, and aid him to bring the miscreant San Vincente to the punishment he deserves.”
Luis promised to obey his wishes, if he himself ever escaped from prison.