Part 2 (1/2)
”Ah! the governor has a daughter, and Donna Antonia has beautiful eyes,” observed the visitor with a meaning smile, which it was well that Inez did not see.
”The evil eye, the evil eye!” exclaimed the poor girl with pa.s.sionate emotion; ”would that Alcala had never, never met their basilisk glance! It is not her wealth that he cares for,--that wealth which draws round Antonia so many idle wors.h.i.+ppers, like moths round a flame!”
”I have heard that one of these suitors insulted De Aguilera in her presence,” said Donna Maria.
”One whose ancestors would have deemed it an honour to hold the stirrup of an Aguilera disputed with Alcala the privilege of handing Donna Antonia into her galley on the Guadalquivir,” said Inez. ”'The hand that had accepted payment for clerk's work,' sneered the courtier, 'has no right to touch a lady's white glove.' Then Alcala fired up at the taunt; it had stung him to the quick. He was roused to speak of his fathers, of their triumphs over the Moors, and to tell how one of our race had gained a chain of gold from Queen Joanna for spearing a huge bull at a _gran foncion_ held in her presence. 'It is pity,' said the mocking Don Riaz, 'that in these days caballeros are content to win money, though their fathers only cared to win fame.'
Alcala was goaded by the taunt into saying that he was as ready as was ever an Aguilera to ride in the bull-ring, and break a lance for the smile of a lady.”
”And they actually nailed him to a word so hastily spoken?” asked the visitor eagerly.
”Ay,” replied Inez bitterly; ”though every one knows that caballeros never now encounter the bull, that the desperate struggle is left to picador and matador[7] trained and paid to expose their lives for the sport of the crowd.”
”Did not Donna Antonia forbid her cavalier to attempt so rash an exploit?” asked Donna Maria.
”Forbid! oh no!” exclaimed the indignant Inez; ”for an Aguilera to risk or to lose his life for her sake would be to her proud nature as the crowning triumph of her beauty! She will be there--Antonia will be in the Plaza de Toros, and she will look on with those calm, cruel eyes, whilst Alcala, my pride--my darling,”--Inez could not finish the sentence, but buried her face in her hands.
”Do not despair, _cara amiga_,” said Donna Maria, laying her hand caressingly on the shoulder of the sobbing girl; ”Donna Antonia de Rivadeo may see the triumph of your brother. Don Alcala is a good horseman, and a brave cavalier.”
”Brave as a lion, and he rides like the Cid!” exclaimed Inez, raising her head, and speaking with animation. ”But what will that avail him?”
she added sadly. ”Alcala has had no training for the bull-ring, as had knights and gentlemen of old. They had active and powerful steeds; Alcala has but poor old Campeador, who bore our father ten years ago--good faithful Campeador, whom I have often fed from my hand!”
”But your brother will not be alone in the arena,” suggested Donna Maria; ”there will be the matadors, the picadors, the chulos,[8] to divert the bull's attention, or to give him the _coup-de-grace_.”
”May they come to the rescue! the blessing of all the saints be on them if they do!” cried Inez with fervour. ”But oh! _amiga mia_, I hope little from those who make this horrible sport a profession. They are natural enemies of the caballero who dares to do for honour what they are trained to do for gold. These men are jealous, and they are cruel; is it not their very trade to torture and to kill? I never saw a bull-fight but once,” continued Inez, speaking rapidly. ”My father took me when I was a child; but he never ventured to take me again.
The sight--the horrible sight of the poor gored horses madly rus.h.i.+ng round the circus in their agony haunted me for weeks,--it brought on a nervous fever! And how the scene comes back on my memory now in terrible distinctness! I long lay awake last night trying, but trying in vain, to drive away thought by repeating _aves_ and _credos_, till I dropped asleep at last, and then--and then,” added Inez with a shudder, ”I was in the dreadful arena! I saw the bull tearing onwards, the banderillas in his thick strong neck; with bloodshot eye, and head bent down, he made his furious charge! I shrieked so loud that I awoke my grandmother, who usually sleeps so soundly! I used to pity and grieve over her feebleness of mind,--I could almost envy it now; she is spared the horrors of my dream, and the worse misery of my waking!”
There was an oppressive silence for several seconds and then Donna Maria said, ”Have you attempted to dissuade your brother from prosecuting this wild adventure?”
”Have I not?” exclaimed Donna Inez; ”have I not knelt and clasped his knees, and implored as if for my life? I pained, but I could not move him; Alcala said that his honour was pledged.”
”You have been preparing the picador costume,” observed Donna Maria, glancing down at the embroidered jacket and scarlet scarf which lay beside her, faintly visible in the starlight.
”Yes; if Alcala must appear in the arena before all those gazing eyes, he shall appear as becomes an Aguilera,” replied the Spanish maiden.
She did not dwell on the theme, or tell how much of her brother's hardly-earned gains had been frittered away on that gaudy costume; nor how she had not only given the labour of her hands, but sacrificed every little silver ornament which she possessed to add to its value and beauty. Bitterly had the poor girl felt, as she plied her needle, that she was but, as it were, decking out a victim for slaughter.
”Don Alcala will look a goodly cavalier,” observed Donna Maria in an encouraging tone. ”We will pray the Madonna to give him success.”
”I have wearied every saint with my prayers,” sighed Inez de Aguilera, ”and yet--hark! surely there is the sound of a ring!” and again she eagerly sprang to her feet.
”Your brother would not ring, but enter,” suggested Donna Maria. ”Poor child! how you are trembling!”
Inez was indeed trembling violently; she had to lean against a column for support, as the grating of the vestibule was unclosed, and not Alcala but Teresa appeared. The old servant bore in one hand a letter, in the other a lantern borrowed from Donna Maria's attendant, who was waiting with her mule-carriage in the street. Inez had a presentiment that the missive was from her brother, and that his sending it was a sign that he was not coming himself. She took the letter from Teresa, and eagerly tore it open; for by the lantern's light Inez recognized the handwriting of Alcala.
The brief note was as follows:--
”It is better, dearest, that we meet not again till all is over. Send Chico at dawn with Campeador and my dress to the Posada[9] de Quesada; he knows the place well. Kiss for me the hand of our venerable parent.
Farewell! a brother's blessing be with you! Inez, you have been more than a sister to Alcala.”