CHAPTER VII
NEWS FROM SPAIN
Peter Brome was a very quiet man, whose voice was not often heard aboutthe place, and yet it was strange how dull and different the big, oldhouse in Holborn seemed without him. Even the handsome Betty, with whomhe was never on the best of terms, since there was much about her ofwhich he disapproved, missed him, and said so to her cousin, who onlyanswered with a sigh. For in the bottom of her heart Betty both fearedand respected Peter. The fear was of his observant eyes and causticwords, which she knew were always words of truth, and the respect forthe general uprightness of his character, especially where her own sexwas concerned.
In fact, as has been hinted, some little time before, when Peter hadfirst come to live with the Castells, Betty, thinking him a proper manof gentle birth, such a one indeed as she would wish to marry, had madeadvances to him, which, as he did not seem to notice them, became bydegrees more and more marked. What happened at last they two knew alone,but it was something that caused Betty to become very angry, and tospeak of Peter to her friends as a cold-blooded lout who thought only ofwork and gain. The episode was passing, and soon forgotten by the ladyin the press of other affairs; but the respect remained. Moreover, onone or two occasions, when the love of admiration had led her intogriefs, Peter had proved a good friend, and what was better, a friendwho did not talk. Therefore she wished him back again, especially now,when something that was more than mere vanity and desire for excitementhad taken hold of her, and Betty found herself being swept off her feetinto very deep and doubtful waters.
The shopmen and the servants missed him also, for to him all disputeswere brought for settlement, nor, provided it had not come about throughlack of honesty, were any pains too great for him to take to help themin a trouble. Most of all Castell missed him, since until Peter had gonehe did not know how much he had learned to rely upon him, both in hisbusiness and as a friend. As for Margaret, her life without him was onelong, empty night.
Thus it chanced that in such a house any change was welcome, and, thoughshe liked him little enough, Margaret was not even displeased when onemorning Betty told her that the lord d'Aguilar was coming to call on herthat day, and purposed to bring her a present.
"I do not seek his presents," said Margaret indifferently; then added,"But how do you know that, Betty?"
The young woman coloured, and tossed her head as she answered:
"I know it, Cousin, because, as I was going to visit my old auntyesterday, who lives on the wharf at Westminster, I met him riding, andhe called out to me, saying that he had a gift for you and one forme also."
"Be careful you do not meet him too often, Betty, when you chance to bevisiting your aunt. These Spaniards are not always over-honest, as youmay learn to your sorrow."
"I thank you for your good counsel," said Betty, shortly, "but I, who amolder than you, know enough of men to be able to guard myself, and cankeep them at a distance."
"I am glad of it, Betty, only sometimes I have thought that the distancewas scarcely wide enough," answered Margaret, and left the subject, forshe was thinking of other things.
That afternoon, when Margaret was walking in the garden, Betty, whoseface seemed somewhat flushed, ran up to her and said that the lordd'Aguilar was waiting in the hall.
"Very good," answered Margaret, "I will come. Go, tell my father, thathe may join us. But why are you so disturbed and hurried?" she addedwonderingly.
"Oh!" answered Betty, "he has brought me a present, so fine a present--amantle of the most wonderful lace that ever I saw, and a comb of mottledshell mounted in gold to keep it off the hair. He made me wait while heshowed me how to put it on, and that was why I ran."
Margaret did not quite see the connection; but she answered slowly:
"Perhaps it would have been wiser if you had run first. I do notunderstand why this fine lord brings you presents."
"But he has brought one for you also, Cousin, although he would not saywhat it was."
"That I understand still less. Go, tell my father that the Senord'Aguilar awaits him."
Then she went into the hall, and found d'Aguilar looking at anilluminated Book of Hours in which she had been reading, that waswritten in Spanish in one column and in Latin in that opposite. Hegreeted her in his usual graceful way, that, where Margaret wasconcerned, was easy and well-bred without being bold, and said at once:
"So you read Spanish, Senora?"
"A little. Not very well, I fear."
"And Latin also?"
"A little again. I have been taught that tongue. By studying them thus Itry to improve myself in both."
"I perceive that you are learned as you are beautiful," and he bowedcourteously.
"I thank you, Senor; but I lay claim to neither grace."
"What need is there to claim that which is evident?" replied d'Aguilar;then added, "But I forgot, I have brought you a present, if you will bepleased to accept it. Or, rather, I bring you what is your own, or atthe least your father's. I bargained with his Excellency Don de Ayala,pointing out that fifty gold angels were too much to pay for that deadrogue of his; but he would give me nothing back in money, since withgold he never parts. Yet I won some change from him, and it standswithout your door. It is a Spanish jennet of the true Moorish blood,which, hundreds of years ago, that people brought with them from theEast. He needs it no longer, as he returns to Spain, and it is trainedto bear a lady." Margaret did not know what to answer, but,fortunately, at that moment her father appeared, and to him d'Aguilarrepeated his tale, adding that he had heard his daughter say that thehorse she rode had fallen with her, so that she could use it no more.
Now, Castell did not wish to accept this gift, for such he felt it tobe; but d'Aguilar assured him that if he did not he must sell it andreturn him the price in money, as it did not belong to him. So, therebeing no help for it, he thanked him in his daughter's name and his own,and they went into the stable-yard, whither it had been taken, to lookat this horse.
The moment that Castell saw it he knew that it was a creature of greatvalue, pure white in colour, with a long, low body, small head, gentleeyes, round hoofs, and flowing mane and tail, such a horse, indeed, as aqueen might have ridden. Now again he was confused, being sure that thisbeast had never been given back as a luck-penny, since it would havefetched more than the fifty angels on the market; moreover, it washarnessed with a woman's saddle and bridle of the most beautifullyworked red Cordova leather, to which were attached a silver bit andstirrup. But d'Aguilar smiled, and vowed that things were as he had toldthem, so there was nothing more to be said. Margaret, too, was sopleased with the mare, which she longed to ride, that she forgot herscruples, and tried to believe that this was so. Noting her delight,which she could not conceal as she patted the beautiful beast,d'Aguilar said:
"Now I will ask one thing in return for the bargain that I havemade--that I may see you mount this horse for the first time. You toldme that you and your father were wont to go out together in themorning. Have I your leave, Sir," and he turned to Castell, "to ridewith you before breakfast, say, at seven of the clock, for I would showthe lady, your daughter, how she should manage a horse of this blood,which is something of a trick?"
"If you will," answered Castell--"that is, if the weather is fine," forthe offer was made so courteously that it could scarcely be refused.
D'Aguilar bowed, and they re-entered the house, talking of othermatters. When they were in the hall again, he asked whether theirkinsman Peter had reached his destination safely, adding:
"I pray you, do not tell me where it is, for I wish to be able to put myhand upon my heart and swear to all concerned, and especially to certainfellows who are still seeking for him, that I know nothing of hishiding-place."
Castell answered that he had, since but a few minutes before a letterhad come from him announcing his safe arrival, tidings at which Margaretlooked up, then, remembering her promise, said that she was glad to hearof it, as the roads were none too safe, and spoke indifferen
tly ofsomething else. D'Aguilar added that he also was glad, then, rising,took his leave "till seven on the morrow."
When he had gone, Castell gave Margaret a letter, addressed to her inPeter's stiff, upright hand, which she read eagerly. It began and endedwith sweet words, but, like his speech, was brief and to the point,saying only that he had accomplished his journey without adventure, andwas very glad to find himself again in the old house where he was born,and amongst familiar fields and faces. On the morrow he was to see thetradesmen as to alterations and repairs which were much needed, even themoat being choked with mud and weeds. His last sentence was: "I muchmistrust me of that fine Spaniard, and I am jealous to think that heshould be near to you while I am far away. Beware of him, I say--bewareof him. May the Mother of God and all the saints have you in theirkeeping! Your most true affianced lover."
This letter Margaret answered before she slept, for the messenger was toreturn at dawn, telling Peter, amongst other things, of the gift whichd'Aguilar had brought her, and how she and her father were forced toaccept it, but bidding him not be jealous, since, although the gift waswelcome, she liked the giver little, who did but count the hours tillher true lover should come back again and take her to himself.
Next morning she was up early, clothed in her riding-dress, for the daywas very fine, and by seven o'clock d'Aguilar appeared, mounted on agreat horse. Then the Spanish jennet was brought out, and deftly helifted her to the saddle, showing her how she must pull but lightly onthe reins, and urge or check her steed with her voice alone, using nowhip or spur.
A perfect beast it proved to be, indeed, gentle as a lamb, and easy, yetvery spirited and swift.
D'Aguilar was a pleasant cavalier also, talking of many things grave andgay, until at length even Castell forgot his thoughts, and grew cheerfulas they cantered forward through the fresh spring morning by heath andhill and woodland, listening to the singing of the birds, and watchingthe husbandmen at their labour. This ride was but the first of severalthat they took, since d'Aguilar knew their hours of exercise, even whenthey changed them, and whether they asked him or not, joined or met themin such a natural fashion that they could not refuse his company.Indeed, they were much puzzled to know how he came to be so wellacquainted with their movements, and even with the direction in whichthey proposed to ride, but supposed that he must have it from thegrooms, although these were commanded to say nothing, and always deniedhaving spoken with him. That Betty should speak of such matters, or evenfind opportunity of doing so, never chanced to cross their minds, whodid not guess that if they rode with d'Aguilar in the morning, Bettyoften walked with him in the evening when she was supposed to be atchurch, or sewing, or visiting her aunt upon the wharf at Westminster.But of these walks the foolish girl said nothing, for her own reasons.
Now, as they rode together, although he remained very courteous andrespectful, the manner of d'Aguilar towards Margaret grew ever moreclose and intimate. Thus he began to tell her stories, true or false, ofhis past life, which seemed to have been strange and eventful enough; tohint, too, of a certain hidden greatness that pertained to him which hedid not dare to show, and of high ambitions which he had. He spoke alsoof his loneliness, and his desire to lose it in the companionship of akindred heart, if he could find one to share his wealth, his station,and his hopes; while all the time his dark eyes, fixed on Margaret,seemed to say, "The heart I seek is such a one as yours." At length,at some murmured word or touch, she took affright, and, since she couldnot avoid him abroad, determined to stay at home, and, much as she lovedthe sport, to ride no more till Peter should return. So she gave outthat she had hurt her knee, which made the saddle painful to her, andthe beautiful Spanish mare was left idle in the stable, or mounted onlyby the groom.
Thus for some days she was rid of d'Aguilar, and employed herself inreading and working, or in writing long letters to Peter, who was busyenough at Dedham, and sent her thence many commissions to fulfil.
One afternoon Castell was seated in his office deciphering letters whichhad just reached him. The night before his best ship, of over twohundred tons burden, which was named the _Margaret_, after his daughter,had come safely into the mouth of the Thames from Spain. That eveningshe was to reach her berth at Gravesend with the tide, when Castellproposed to go aboard of her to see to the unloading of her cargo. Thiswas the last of his ships which remained unsold, and it was his plan tore-load and victual her at once with goods that were waiting, and sendher back to the port of Seville, where his Spanish partners, in whosename she was already registered, had agreed to take her over at a fixedprice. This done, it was only left for him to hand over his business tothe merchants who had purchased it in London, after which he would befree to depart, a very wealthy man, and spend the evening of his days atpeace in Essex, with his daughter and her husband, as now he so greatlylonged to do. So soon as they were within the river banks the captain ofthis ship, Smith by name, had landed the cargo-master with letters anda manifest of cargo, bidding him hire a horse and bring them to MasterCastell's house in Holborn. This the man had done safely, and it wasthese letters that Castell read.
One of them was from his partner Bernaldez in Seville; not in answer tothat which he had written on the night of the opening of thishistory--for this there had been no time--yet dealing with matterswhereof it treated. In it was this passage:
"You will remember what I wrote to you of a certain envoy who has beensent to the Court of London, who is called d'Aguilar, for as our cipheris so secret, and it is important that you should be warned, I take therisk of writing his name. Since that letter I have learned moreconcerning this grandee, for such he is. Although he calls himself plainDon d'Aguilar, in truth he is the Marquis of Morella, and on one side,it is said, of royal blood, if not on both, since he is reported to bethe son born out of wedlock of Prince Carlos of Viana, the half-brotherof the king. The tale runs that Carlos, the learned and gentle, fell inlove with a Moorish lady of Aguilar of high birth and great wealth, forshe had rich estates at Granada and elsewhere, and, as he might notmarry her because of the difference of their rank and faiths, lived withher without marriage, of which union one son was born. Before PrinceCarlos died, or was poisoned, and while he was still a prisoner atMorella, he gave to, or procured for this boy the title of marquis,choosing from some fancy the name of Morella, that place where he hadsuffered so much. Also he settled some private lands upon him. After theprince died, the Moorish lady, his lover, who had secretly become aChristian, took her son to live at her palace in Granada, where she diedalso some ten years ago, leaving all her great wealth to him, for shenever married. At this time it is said that his life was in danger, forthe reason that, although he was half a Moor, too much of theblood-royal ran in his veins. But the Marquis was clever, and persuadedthe king and queen that he had no ambition beyond his pleasures. Alsothe Church interceded for him, since to it he proved himself a faithfulson, persecuting all heretics, especially the Jews, and even Moors,although they are of his own blood. So in the end he was confirmed inhis possessions and left alone, although he refused to become a priest.
"Since then he has been made an agent of the Crown at Granada, andemployed upon various embassies to London, Rome, and elsewhere, onmatters connected with the faith and the establishment of the HolyInquisition. That is why he is again in England at this moment, beingcharged to obtain the names and particulars concerning all Maranossettled there, especially if they trade with Spain. I have seen thenames of those of whom he must inquire most closely, and that is why Iwrite to you so fully, since yours is first upon the list. I think,therefore, that you do wisely to wind up your business with thiscountry, and especially to sell your ships to us outright and quickly,since otherwise they might be seized--like yourself, if you came here.My counsel to you is--hide your wealth, which will be great when we havepaid you all we owe, and go to some place where you will be forgottenfor a while, since that bloodhound d'Aguilar, for so he calls himself,after his mother's birthplace, has not tracked you to London
fornothing. As yet, thanks be to God, no suspicion has fallen on any of us;perhaps because we have many in our pay."
When Castell had finished transcribing all this passage he read itthrough carefully. Then he went into the hall, where a fire burned, forthe day was cold, and threw the translation on to it, watching until itwas consumed, after which he returned to his office, and hid away theletter in a secret cupboard behind the panelling of the wall. This done,he sat himself in his chair to think.
"My good friend Juan Bernaldez is right," he said to himself;"d'Aguilar, or the Marquis Morella, does not nose me and the others outfor nothing. Well, I shall not trust myself in Spain, and the money,most of it, except what is still to come from Spain, is put out where itwill never be found by him, at good interest too. All seems safeenough--and yet I would to God that Peter and Margaret were fastmarried, and that we three sat together, out of sight and mind, in theOld Hall at Dedham. I have carried on this game too long. I should haveclosed my books a year ago; but the trade was so good that I could not.I was wise also, who in this one lucky year have nearly doubled myfortune. And yet it would have been safer, before they guessed that Iwas so rich. Greed--mere greed--for I do not need this money which maydestroy us all! Greed! The ancient pitfall of my race."
As he thought thus there came a knock upon his door. Snatching up a penhe dipped it in the ink-horn and, calling "Enter," began to add a columnof figures on a paper before him.
The door opened; but he seemed to take no heed, so diligently did hecount his figures. Yet, although his eyes were fixed upon the paper, insome way that he could not understand he was well aware that d'Aguilarand no other stood in the room behind him, the truth being, no doubt,that unconsciously he had recognised his footstep. For a moment theknowledge turned him cold--he who had just been reading of the missionof this man--and feared what was to come. Yet he acted well.
"Why do you disturb me, Daughter?" he said testily, and without lookinground. "Have not things gone ill enough with half the cargo destroyed bysea-water, and the rest, that you must trouble me while I sum up mylosses?" And, casting the pen down, he turned his stool roundimpatiently.
Yes! there sure enough stood d'Aguilar, very handsomely arrayed, andsmiling and bowing as was his custom.