CHAPTER XIV
THE HOLY INNOCENTS
With small compunction El Sarria turned Don Tomas over with his foot andcoolly appropriated the cloak he had discarded, as also his headgear,which was banded with gay colours, and of the shape affected by thedandies of Seville.
Then swinging the cloak about him, and setting the hat upon his headjauntily, he strode to the garden door.
Above he could hear the angry voice of a woman, with intervals ofsilence as if for a low-toned inaudible reply. Then came a wail ofdespair and grief--that nearly sent him up the stairs at a tiger's rush,which would have scattered his enemies before him like chaff. For it wasthe voice of his Dolores he heard for the second time. But of late ElSarria had learned some of the wisdom of caution. He knew not the forceLuis might have within the house, and he might only lose his own lifewithout benefiting either Dolores or his son.
Then there was a slow foot on the stairs, coming down. The light wentout above, and he heard a heavy breathing behind the closed door bywhich he stood.
"Tomas--Tomas!" said a voice, "here is the brat. It is asleep; do itquietly, so that the mother may not be alarmed. I cannot stir withouther hearing me and asking the reason."
And in the arms of Ramon Garcia was placed the breathing body of hisfirst-born son. The door was shut before he could move, so astonished hewas by the curious softness of that light burden, and Tia Elvira'sunamuleted groin escaped safe for that time--which, indeed, afterwardsturned out to be just as well.
So at the door of his enemy El Sarria stood dumb and stricken, the babein his arms. For the fact that this child was the son of his littleDolores, annihilated for the moment even revenge in his soul.
But a hand was laid on his shoulder.
"Haste thee, haste," hissed the witch-wife, La Giralda, Elvira's friendand rival, "hast thou smitten strongly? She lies behind the door. Icannot hear her breath, so all must be well. I saw thee stoop to theblow. Well done, well done! And the brain-pan of the ill-disposed andfactious Senor Tomas is comfortably cracked, too. He had but sevenpencein his pockets, together with a bad peseta with a hole in it. Suchfellows have no true moral worth. But come away, come away! PresentlyDon Luis will miss the Tia and give the alarm. Give me the babe!"
But this Ramon would not do, holding jealously to his own.
"What can you, a man, do with a babe?" she persisted. "Can you stop itsmouth from crying? Is there milk in your breasts to feed its littleblind mouth? Give it to me, I say!"
"Nay," said El Sarria, shaking her off, "not to you. Did not thismurderous woman come from your waggons? Is not her place under yourcanvas?"
"It shall be so no more, if your stroke prove true," said the gipsy. "Ishall be the queen and bring up this youngling to be the boldesthorse-thief betwixt this filthy Aragon and the Gipsy-barrio of Granada,where La Giralda's cave dives deepest into the rock."
"No, I will not!" said the man, grasping the babe so tightly that itwhimpered, and stretched its little body tense as a bowstring over hisarm. "I will take him to the hills and suckle him with goat's milk! Heshall be no horse-thief, but a fighter of men!"
"Ah, then you are an outlaw--a lad of the hills? I thought so," chuckledthe woman. "Come away quickly, then, brave manslayer; I know a betterway than either. The sisters, the good women of the convent, will takehim at a word from me. I know the night watch--a countrywoman of mine,little Concha. She will receive him through the wicket and guard himwell--being well paid, that is, as doubtless your honour can pay!"
"What, little Concha Cabezos?" said Ramon with instant suspicion. "Wasshe not a traitress to her mistress? Was it not through her treacherythat her mistress came hither?"
"Little Concha--a traitress," laughed the old woman. "Nay--nay! you knowher not, evidently. She may, indeed, be almost everything else that awoman can be, as her enemies say. No cloistered Santa Teresa is ourlittle Concha, but, for all that, she is of a stock true to her salt,and only proves fickle to her wooers. Come quickly and speak with her.She is clever, the little Concha, and her advice is good."
They passed rapidly along the road, deep in white dust, but slaked nowwith the dew, and cool underfoot. The babe lifted up his voice andwept.
"Here, give him me. I cannot run away with him if I would," said thegipsy. "You may keep your hand on my arm, if only you will but give himme!"
And the gipsy woman lifted the little puckered features to her cheek,and crooned and clucked till the child gradually soothed itself to sleepface-down on her shoulder.
"How came Concha at the house of the nuns?" said Ramon.
"That you must ask herself," answered the woman; "some quarrel it was.Luis Fernandez never loved her. He wished her out of the house from thefirst. But here we are!"
First came a great whitewashed forehead of blind wall, then in the midsta small circular tower where at one side was a door, heavily guardedwith great iron plates and bolts, and on the other a deep squareaperture in which was an iron turnstile--the House of the BlessedInnocents at last.
The gipsy woman went directly up to the wicket, and whispered throughthe turnstile. There was a dim light within, which presently brightenedas if a lamp had been turned up.
The woman stepped back to El Sarria's side.
"The little Concha is on duty," she whispered. "Go thou up and speakwith her! Nay, take the child if thou art so jealous of him. I would nothave stolen the boy. Had the nationals not killed El Sarria at theDevil's Gorge, I had said that thou wert the man himself!"
Ramon took the babe awkwardly.
"At any event thou art a brave fighter," she murmured, "and cracked thatevil-doing Tomas's skull for him to a marvel. Thou shalt have all thehelp La Giralda can give thee!"
Ramon, with the babe in his arms, put his head within, and spoke toConcha. A little cry, swiftly checked, came forth from the whitewashedportress' lodge of the House of the Innocents. Then after five minutesRamon kissed the little puckered face of his son, and each of thedimpled fat red hands he held so tightly clenched, and laid him on therevolving iron plate of the conventual turnstile. Without a creek theaxle turned, and in a moment more the child was in the arms of HolyChurch, pleasantly represented for the nonce by the very secular charmsof little Concha Cabezos.
Then a word or two were spoken. Concha told the outlaw how, by a letterpurporting to come from himself, forged by Don Luis or his brother,Dolores had been advised to put herself under the protection of hisbeloved friend Don Luis Fernandez "until the happier days." Concha alsotold how the miller had found an excuse to send her from the house indisgrace, and how for her needlework and skill in fine broidery she hadbeen received at the Convent of the Holy Innocents, how Manuela from thepriest's house and this gipsy wise-woman "Tia Elvira" had watched overDolores ever since, not allowing her to hold any communication with theoutside world, and especially with her former waiting-maid.
"Then came the news of your death," she continued, "and after that theguard upon Dolores was redoubled, and till to-night I have heardnothing. But the babe shall be safe and unknown here among the sisters.Yet for the future's sake give me some token that you may claim him by.All such things are entered in a book as being brought with a child."
El Sarria passed within the turnstile a golden wristlet his mother hadgiven him at his first communion, when he was the best and most dutifulboy in all Sarria, and held by the priest to be a pattern communicant.
"Can you not stay yet other twenty-four hours in Sarria?" asked Concha."If so, we must try to bring your Dolores where she will be as safe asthe child."
"I would stay a year to preserve from harm a hair of her head--I whohave wronged her!"
"Ah," sighed Concha through the wicket, as if she knew all aboutunworthy suspicion on the part of lovers, "men are like that. They areready to suspect the most loving and the most innocent, but we womenforgive them!"
Then pouting her pretty red lips the little Concha spoke low in the earof El Sarria a while. After five minutes of this whispered colloquy, sheadded
aloud--
"Then we will proceed. Go, do your part. You may trust La Giralda. Goquickly. You have much to do."
And little Concha snapped to the shutter of the wicket in his face.
Much to do. Yes, it was true. What with Dolores in the power of hisfalse friend Luis and the evil hag Tia Elvira, his gentlemen to attendupon at their inn, and the grave-digger lying with a broken head in thegarden, El Sarria might be said to have had some private business uponhis hands. And this, too, in addition to his affairs of state--theAbbot's commission, his own outlawry, and the equal certainty of hisbeing shot whether he fell into the hands of the Carlists or of thenational soldiers.
Yet in spite of all these, never since the evil night of his firsthome-coming to Sarria had he been so happy as when he retraced his wayin company with La Giralda in the direction of the mill-house.
And as he went, thinking no thought save of Dolores and his love,suddenly the only man who would have dared to cross his path stoodbefore him.
"Ah, sirrah," cried Rollo the Scot, "is this your service? To run thecountry with women--and not even to have the sense to choose a prettyone. What mean you by this negligence, dog of Galicia?"
"I attend to my own affairs," answered Ramon, with a sullen and bodingquiet; "do me the favour to go about yours."
Hot-blood Rollo leaped upon him without a word, taking the older andstronger man at unawares with his young litheness. He saw Ramon'sfingers moving to the knife in its sheath by his side. But ere theycould reach it, his hand was on the giant's wrist and his pistol at hisear.
"A finger upon your Albacetan and you die!" cried Rollo. "I would haveyou Gallegans learn that the servant is not greater than his lord."
Now Ramon knew that not his life, but that of Rollo, hung on a hair. Forhe was conscious that La Giralda's knife was bare and that thatdetermined lady was simply choosing her opportunity. If Rollo had beenolder most likely Ramon would have waited motionless for Giralda'sthrust, and then turned the young man under his heel, precisely as hehad done to the grave-digger earlier in the evening. But as they rodefrom the abbey he had admired the young fellow's gallant bearing andperhaps heard also of his flouting of his own Miguelete enemies at theinn of San Vicente. So for this time he had pity upon him.
"Stand back, Giralda," he commanded. Then to Rollo he said, "Forgive myseeming negligence, Senor. It was only seeming. The honour of my wifeand the life of my child are at stake. I am Ramon Garcia the outlaw,whom you saw fall upon the altar of the Abbey of Montblanch. This is myhome. My wife is here and near to death in the house of mine enemy. Letthese things be my excuse!"
Rollo dropped his pistol, like a good sportsman mechanically uncockingit as he did so. His generous impulses were as fierce and swift as hisother passions.
"Tell me all," he said, "'fore God I will help you--ay, before any kingor monk on earth. A brave man in such trouble has the first claim of allupon Rollo Blair!"
"And your companions?" said El Sarria.
"I give myself no trouble about them," cried Rollo. "Senor Mortimer willvisit the vineyards and wine cellars to-morrow and be happy. And as forgay Master Etienne, has he not the little Concha to search for? Besides,even if he had not, he would not be six hours in the place withoutstarting a new love affair."
Then, as they turned backwards along the road, El Sarria told Rollo allhis tale, and the young Scot found himself, for the first time, deepamong the crude mother-stuff of life and passion.
"And I thought that I had lived!" he said, and looked long at the hugeform of the outlaw by his side, to whom deadly peril was as meat anddrink, whom any man might slay, and gain a reward for the deed.
"I see it!" cried Rollo, whose quick brain caught the conditions of theproblem even as Ramon was speaking. "And if I help, my companions willhelp also. I answer for them!"
For this young man was in the habit, not only of undertaking remarkableadventures himself, but, out of mere generosity, of engaging his friendsin them as well. Yet never for a moment did Rollo doubt that he wasacting, not only for the best, but positively in a manner so reasonableas to be almost humdrum.
So upon this occasion, finding El Sarria in difficulties, he pledgedhimself to the hilt to assist that picturesque outlaw. Yet, doubtless,had he first come across a captain of Migueletes in trouble aboutRamon's capture, he would have taken a hand in bringing about that eventwith a truly admirable and engaging impartiality. This was perhaps thequality which most of all endeared Rollo to his friends.
"Concha--Concha," Rollo was thinking deeply and quickly; "tell me whatkind of girl is this Concha?"
"She is as other girls," said El Sarria, indifferently enough, who hadnot till that night troubled his head much about her, "a good enoughgirl--a little light-hearted, perhaps, but then--she is an Andaluse, andwhat can you expect? Also well-looking----"
"And has been told so as often as I was in my youth!" said the old womanLa Giralda, breaking in. "Of Concha Cabezos this man knows nothing, evenif he be El Sarria risen from the dead (as indeed I suspected from thefirst). And if, as he says, she is somewhat light of heart and heel,the little Concha has a wise head and a heart loyal to all except herwould-be lovers. Being a Sevillana, and with more than a drop of Romanyblood in her veins, she hath never gotten the knack of that. But you maytrust her with your life, young stranger, aye, or (what is harder) withanother woman's secret. Only, meantime, do not make love to her. That isa game at which the Senorita Concha always wins!"
Rollo twirled his moustache, and thought. He was not so sure. Attwenty-five, to put a woman on such a pedestal is rather a whet to theappetite of a spirited young man.
"And what do you intend to do with the grave-digging Fernandez?" askedRollo.
"Why," said Ramon, simply, "to tell truth, I intended to cover him up inthe grave he had made, all but his head, and let him get out as best hecould!"
"Appropriate," agreed Rollo, "but crude, and in the circumstances notfeasible. We must take this Fernandez indoors after we have arranged thegarrison of the house. We will make his brother nurse him. Fraternalaffection was never better employed, and it will keep them both out ofmischief. And how soon, think you, could your wife be moved?" askedRollo.
Ramon shrugged his shoulders helplessly, and turned to La Giralda.
"When I had my second," she said ("he that was hanged at Gibraltar bythe English because the man he stabbed died in order to spite him), itwas at the time of the vintage. And, lo! all unexpectedly I wasovertaken even among the very clusters. So I went aside behind thewatcher's _cana_ huts.... And after I had washed the boy I went backand finished my row. There are no such women in these days, El Sarria.This of thine----"
"Peace, Giralda," said Ramon, sternly; "Dolores is as a dove, and weakfrom long trouble of heart. On your head, I ask of you, could we moveher in twenty-four hours and yet risk nothing of the life?"
"Yes, as the Virgin sees me," asserted La Giralda, holding up her hands,"if so be I have the firming of the bands about her--of linen wide andstrong they must be made--to be mine own afterwards. And then she mustbe carried between four stout men, as I will show you how."
"It shall be done," cried Rollo. "I will find the men, do you providethe linen, El Sarria. I will hie me to the convent early to-morrowmorning and talk with this little Concha!"
"You will not be admitted," said La Giralda, somewhat scornfully; "theMother Superior is most strict with all within the walls."
"But I shall ask for the Mother Superior," said the modest youth, "and,gad! if I get only six quiet minutes of the old lady, I warrant she willrefuse me nothing--even to the half of her kingdom. Meantime, here weare! Is it not so?"
The huge black circle of the mill-wheel rose before them against thewhitewash of the un-windowed wall. They could not see the mill-houseitself from this point, and they halted before going further, in orderto make their dispositions.
"What we are going to do is not strictly within the letter of the law,"explained Rollo, cheerfully, "but it is the best I can thi
nk of, andcontaining as it does the elements of justice, may commend itself as asolution to all parties. If these Fernandez gentlemen kidnap othermen's wives, devise the murder of their children, and strive to have themen themselves shot, they cannot very well complain of a littleillegality. This is the house. Well, it must be ours for twenty-fourhours--no more, no less. Then, if no accidents happen, we will return itto Senor Luis Fernandez. All set? _Adelante_, then!"
And with Rollo in the van, El Sarria following a little behind and LaGiralda bolting the doors and generally protecting the rear, the partyof possession went upwards into the mill-house to argue the matter atlength with Senor Luis and his friend the Tia Elvira.
These worthy people, however, were not in the sick-chamber of DoloresGarcia, which, on the whole, was just as well. At an earlier part of thenight the Tia had administered to Dolores a potion which caused her tosleep soundly for several hours. For the Tia was skilled in simples, aswell as in a good many things of a nature far from simple. A faintclinking sound, as of counting money, guided Rollo to the spot.
The master of the house and his faithful "Tia" sat bending over a tablein the upper hall, or general meeting-place of the family. The doorwhich opened off the stairway up which the visitors came, gave a slightcreak, but Luis Fernandez and his associate were so engrossed in theirwork that neither of them lifted their eyes.
A considerable number of trinkets of gold and silver, articles ofattire, crucifixes, and ornaments were spread out upon the table. Assoon as Ramon's eyes fell upon these, Rollo felt him grip his armconvulsively, but the young man resolutely kept the outlaw behind him.The time was not yet.
Tia Elvira was not for the moment on good terms with her companion.
"Listen, Luis Fernandez," she said, extending a pair of withered clawsacross the table like the talons of some unclean bird; "if you thinkthat I am going to do your business and run hot chances of the ironnecklace that has no beads, and then when all is done allow yourfather's son to cheat me out of my dues, you are much mistaken. If youdo not deliver me all the ornaments her husband gave this woman Dolores,according to your agreement, by the chief of the devils that inhabit thefour hells I will go to the _Corregidor_ to-morrow at day-break andlodge information against you and your brother for the crime of childmurder!"
"And where, think you, would you find yourself in such a case?" quothLuis Fernandez, a cold-eyed, dark-haired man of forty years of age. Hesat leaning well over the table, the more precious of the objectsgathered between his arms. "You were the nurse in attendance, my Tia--tothat the _Sangrador_ would bear witness. He left you in charge of theinfant, my dear aunt. And though times are hard and men in officeunbelieving, I still think that I, Luis Fernandez, could command enoughtestimony in this town to bring the guilt (if guilt there be) home to acertain Elvira the Gipsy, whose record, at any rate, is none of thebest!"
He laughed a little chuckling laugh as the hag exploded into a swarm ofcrabbed gipsy oaths.
"But enough of this, Tia," he said; "be reasonable, and you will find megenerous. Only I must be the judge of what is mine own, that is all, mybitter-sweet Ronda pippin."
"Curses upon you and all that you may bring forth, on your burying, onyour children and your children's children!" cried the woman.
"Come--come--that will do, Tia," cried Luis, striking the table with hishand. "I value not your curses this single fig of Spain." (Here he madetowards her the gesture with finger and thumb which averts the evileye.) "But if I hear any more of this I will put you to the door withoutso much as a single silver spoon. Whereupon you will be welcome to doyour worst."
"I do not see why you want both the woman and the goods," whined theTia, altering her tone. "Did you not say that you desired to keepnothing which would remind her of her old life? And have not I, by mydecoctions and distillations, kept this silly Dolores in a dream likethat of a child all these weeks since we got rid of that imp of Satan,Concha Cabezos of Seville?"
"You have--you have indeed done well, my Tia," said the man soothingly,"and you will find me by no means ungrateful. But come, let us get thismatter settled, and then I must go and look for my drunkengood-for-nothing of a brother, who has doubtless stolen the key of thewine-cellar, and is at his old tricks again."
"Well, at any rate, I insist upon that string of silver beads," said theold woman, greedily. "I have been thinking of it all these days, and donot forget that it was I who wormed out of the widow the hiding-placewhere that cunning little Concha had placed Ramon Garcia's strong box."
"There--take it, then," said the man impatiently, and a heavy string ofbeads was slid across the table with a clanking noise. "I had notthought you so good a Christian, Tia!"
"Oh, it is not that," chuckled the hag, clutching the necklace fiercely,as a starving dog might fall on a bone, and concealing it instantlybeneath her skirts. "But each link hath the stamp upon it--the mintstamp of Seville--and will pass current for a good duro wherever one maychance to be. With such a necklace one can never be in want."
"Well," said Luis, "the devil fly away with you and it, Tia! I keep allthe ornaments of gold--let that be understood. My wife might, upon anoccasion, take a yearning for them, and if I had them not to give her,it might be to the danger of my house and succession. So this goldcross----"
("My mother's!" breathed Ramon hotly in Rollo's ear.)
"This knife with the hilt top set with brilliants----"
("My father's--he had it from the great Lor' Wellington for a message hebrought to him at Vitoria.")
"These trifles--a pair of ear-rings, a ring of pearls, a comb for thehair in gold--all these I reserve for myself."
As he spoke, he tossed them, one after the other, into a heavyiron-bound box which, with chains and padlocks displayed, stood openupon the floor.
As each article tinkled among the others, the Tia gave a little wince ofbodily pain, and her skinny talons scratched the wood of the table witha sound distinctly audible at the door behind which the intruders stood.
Then a quick loud cackle of laughter came from Fernandez. He had foundsomething among the parchments.
"'Hereby I plight thee my troth,'" he read from a paper in his hand,"'for ever and for ever, as a true heart and a true lover, signed,Ramon.' This she has kept in a case in her bosom, I suppose, with thepicture of the oaf," he added, "and is as like him as it is like St.Nicholas, the patron saint of all thieves. And, holy Michael in theseventh heavens! here is their marriage certificate all complete--a verytreasure-house of connubial happiness. But these need not go into thestrong box. I, Luis Fernandez, have made an end of them. The woman ismine, and so will I also make an end of these relics of folly."
He took the papers to tear them across, but the stout parchment resisteda moment. His brow darkened, and he clutched them more securely to rendthem with an effort.
But a slight noise in the apartment and a cry from the Tia caused him tolook up.
A knife was at his throat, and a figure stood before him, one huge handpinning him to his seat.
"Ramon," he cried, his voice, which had been full of chuckling laughter,rising suddenly to a thin shriek. "God in heaven, Ramon Garcia!"
And with a trembling hand he tried to cross himself.
"Give!" said Ramon, in a hollow voice, and mechanically the millerplaced the papers in his hands.
"'Fore God, Ramon, I thought you were dead!" gasped the man.
"No, friend, not dead," came the answer, "but Ramon Garcia come back inthe flesh to settle certain accounts with his well-beloved comrade andbrother of many years, Luis Fernandez, of the mill-house of Sarria."