Part 31 (1/2)
In a marvellously short time had love and sorrow transformed the young and childish girl into a pa.s.sionate, determined woman, with all the fire of her own southern skies in her heart.
Ere he departed, Juan pleaded for permission to visit her frequently.
But here again she showed a keen-sighted apprehensiveness for _him_, which astonished him. She cautioned him against their cousins, Manuel and Balthazar; who, if they thought him in danger of arrest, were quite capable of informing against him themselves, to secure a share of his patrimony. Or they might gain the same end, without the disgrace of such a baseness, by putting him quietly out of the way with their daggers. On all accounts, his frequent presence at the house would be undesirable, and might be dangerous; but she agreed to inform him, by means of certain signals (which they arranged together), when he might pay a visit to her with safety. Then, having bidden her farewell, Don Juan turned his back on his uncle's house with a heavy heart.
XXVIII.
Reaping the Whirlwind
”All is lost, except a little life.”--Byron
Nearly a fortnight pa.s.sed away before a tiny lace kerchief, fluttering at nightfall through the jealous grating of one of the few windows of Don Manuel's house that looked towards the street, told Juan that he was at liberty to seek admission the next day. He was permitted to enter; but he explored the patio and all the adjacent corridors and rooms without seeing the face of which he was in search. He did not, indeed, meet any one, not even a domestic; for it was the eve of the Feast of the Ascension, and nearly all the household had gone to see the great tabernacle carried in state to the Cathedral and set up there, in preparation for the solemnities of the following day.
He thought this a good opportunity for satisfying his longing to visit the apartment his brother had been wont to occupy. In spite of what his uncle had said to the contrary, and indeed of the dictates of his own reason, he could not relinquish the hope that something which belonged to him--perhaps even some word or line traced by his hand--might reward his careful search.
He ascended the stairs; not stealthily, or as if ashamed of his errand, for no one had the right to forbid him. He reached the turret without meeting any one, but had hardly placed his foot upon the stair that led to its upper apartment, when a voice called out, not very loudly,--
”Chien va?”
It was Gonsalvo's. Juan answered,--
”It is I--Don Juan.”
”Come to me, for Heaven's sake!”
A private interview with a madman is not generally thought particularly desirable. But Juan was a stranger to fear. He entered the room immediately, and was horror-stricken at the change in his cousin's appearance. A tangled ma.s.s of black hair mingled with his beard, and fell neglected over the pillow; while large, wild, melancholy eyes lit up the pallor of his wasted face. He lay, or rather reclined, on a couch, half covered by an embroidered quilt, but wearing a loose doublet, very carelessly thrown on.
Of late the cousins had been far from friendly. Still Juan from compa.s.sion stretched out his hand. But Gonsalvo would not touch it.
”Did you know all,” he said, ”you would stab me where I lie, and thus make an end at once of the most miserable life under G.o.d's heaven.”
”I fear you are very ill, my cousin,” said Juan, kindly; for he thought Gonsalvo's words the offspring of his wandering fancy.
”From the waist downwards I am dead. It is G.o.d's hand: and he is just.”
”Does your physician give hope of your recovery from this seizure?”
With something like his old short, bitter laugh, Gonsalvo answered--”I have no physician.”
”This must be one of his delusions,” thought Juan; ”or else, since he cannot have Losada, he has refused, with his usual obstinacy, to see any one else.”
He said aloud,--”That is not right, cousin Don Gonsalvo. You ought not to neglect lawful means of cure. Senor Sylvester Areto is a very skilful physician; you might safely place yourself in his hands.”
”Only there is one slight objection--my father and my brothers would not permit me to see him.”
Juan was in no doubt how to regard this statement; but hoping to extract from him some additional information respecting his brother, he turned the conversation.
”When did this malady seize you?” he asked.