Part 20 (2/2)

”Surely more than two or three will join in that prayer. But, my brother,” he added, after a pause, ”be not so downcast. Do you not know that every great cause must have its martyr? When was a victory won, and no brave man left dead on the field; a city stormed, and none fallen in the breach? Perhaps to that poor peasant may be given the glory--the great glory--of being honoured throughout all time as the sainted martyr whose death has consecrated our holy cause to victory. A grand lot truly? Worth suffering for!” And Juan's dark eye kindled, and his cheek glowed with enthusiasm.

Carlos was silent.

”Dost thou not think so, my brother?”

”I think that Christ is worth suffering; for,” said Carlos at last.

”And that nothing short of his personal presence, realized by faith, can avail to bring any man victorious through such fearful trials. May that--may he be with his faithful servant now, when all human help and comfort are far away.”

XXI.

By the Guadalquivir

”There dwells my father, sinless and at rest, Where the fierce murderer can no more pursue.”--Schiller

Next Sunday evening the brothers attended the quiet service in Dona Isabella's upper room. It was more solemn than usual, because of the deep shadow that rested on the hearts of all the band a.s.sembled there.

But Losada's calm voice spoke wise and loving words about life and death, and about Him who, being the Lord of life, has conquered death for all who trust him. Then came prayer--true incense offered on the golden altar standing ”before the mercy-seat,” which only ”the veil,”

still dropped between, hides from the eyes of the wors.h.i.+ppers.[#] But in such hours many a ray from the glory within s.h.i.+nes through that veil.

[#] See Exodus x.x.x 6.

”Do not let us return home yet, brother,” said Carlos, when they had parted with their friends. ”The night is fine.”

”Whither shall we bend our steps?”

Carlos named a favourite walk through some olive-yards on the banks of the river, and Juan set his face towards one of the city gates.

”Why take such a circuit?” said Carlos, showing a disposition to turn in an opposite direction. ”This is far the shorter way.”

”True; but it is less pleasant.”

Carlos looked at him gratefully. ”My brother would spare my weakness,”

he said. ”But it needs not. Twice of late, when you were engaged with Dona Beatriz, I went alone thither, and--to the Prado San Sebastian.”

So they pa.s.sed through the Puerta de Triana, and having crossed the bridge of boats, leisurely took their way beneath the walls of the grim old castle. As they did so, both prayed in silence for one who was pining in its dungeons. Don Juan, whose interest in the fate of Juliano was naturally far less intense than his brother's, was the first to break that silence. He remarked that the Dominican convent adjoining the Triana looked nearly as gloomy as the inquisitorial prison itself.

”I think it looks like all other convents,” returned Carlos, with indifference.

They were soon in the shadow of the dark, ghost-like olive-trees. The moon was young, and gave but little light; but the large clear stars looked down through the southern air like lamps of fire, hanging not so much in the sky as from it. Were those bright watchers charged with a message from the land very far off, which seemed so near to them in the high places whence they ruled the night? Carlos drank in the spirit of the scene in silence. But this did not please his less meditative brother. ”What art thou pondering?” he asked.

”'They that be wise shall s.h.i.+ne as the brightness of the firmament, and they that turn many to righteousness as the stars for ever and ever.'”

”Art thinking still of the prisoner in the Triana?”

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