Part 43 (1/2)

”Everything floats before me,” she said. ”What with the music, and the ma.s.s, and the incense; and the crosses, and banners, and gorgeous robes; and then the taking of the oaths, and the sermon of the faith.”

”Still--you kept my charge?”

”I did, brother.” She lowered her voice. ”Hard as it was, I looked at _her_. If it comforts you to know that, all through that long day, her face was as calm as ever I have seen it listening to Fray Constantino's sermons, you may take that comfort to your heart When her sentence had been read, she was asked to recant; and I heard her answer rise clear and distinct, 'I neither can nor will recant.' Ave Maria Sanctissima!

it is all a great mystery.”

There was a silence, then she resumed,--

”And Senor Cristobal Losada--” but the thought of the kind and skilful physician who had watched beside her own sick-bed, and brought back her babe from the gates of the grave, almost overcame her. Turning quickly to other victims, she went on--

”There were four monks of St. Jerome. Think of the White Doctor, that every one believed so good a man, so pious and orthodox! Another of them, Fray Cristobal D'Arellano, was accused in his sentence of some wicked words against Our Lady which, it would seem, he never said. He cried out boldly, before them all, 'It is false! I never advanced such a blasphemy; and I am ready to prove the contrary with the Bible in my hand.' Every one seemed too much amazed even to think of ordering him to be gagged: and, for my part, I am glad the poor wretch had his word for the last time. I cannot help wis.h.i.+ng they had equally forgotten to silence Doctor Juan Gonzales; for it does not appear that he was speaking any blasphemy, but merely a word of comfort to a poor pale girl, his sister, as they told me. Two of them are to die with him--G.o.d help them!--Holy Saints forgive me; I forgot we were told not to pray for them,” and she crossed herself.

”Does my sister really believe that compa.s.sionate word a sin in G.o.d's sight?”

”How am I to know? I believe whatever the Church says, of course. And surely there is enough in these days to inspire us with a pious horror of heresy. _Pues_,” she resumed, ”there was that long and terrible ceremony of degrading from the priesthood. And yet that Gonsalez pa.s.sed through it all as calm and unmoved as though he were but putting on his robes to say ma.s.s. His mother and his two brothers are still in prison, it is said, awaiting their doom. Of all the relaxed, I am told that only Don Juan Ponce de Leon showed any sign of penitence. For the sake of his n.o.ble house, one is glad to think he is not so hardened as the rest. Ay de mi! Whether it be right or wrong, I cannot help pitying their unhappy souls.”

”Pity your own soul, not theirs,” said Gonsalvo. ”For I tell you Christ himself, in all his glory and majesty, at the right hand of the Father, will _stand up_ to receive them this night, as he did to welcome St.

Stephen long ago.”

”Oh, my poor brother, what dreadful words you speak! It is a mortal sin even to listen to you. Take thought, I implore you, of your own situation.”

”I _have_ taken thought,” interrupted Gonsalvo, faintly. ”But I can bear no more--just now. Leave me, I pray you, alone with G.o.d.”

”If you would even try to say an Ave!--But I fear you are ill--suffering. I do not like to leave you thus.”

”Do not heed me; I shall be better soon. And a vow is upon me that I must keep to-day.” Once more he flung the wasted hand across his face to conceal it.

Irresolute whether to go or stay, she stood for some minutes watching him silently. At length she caught a low murmur, and hoping that he prayed, she bent over him to hear. Only three words reached her ear.

They were these--”Father, forgive them.”

After an interval, Gonsalvo looked up again. ”I thought you were gone,”

he said. ”Go now, I entreat of you. But so soon as you know _the end_, spare not to come and tell me. For I wait for that.”

Thus entreated, Dona Inez had no choice but to leave him alone, which she did.

Evening had worn to night, and night was beginning to wear towards daybreak, when at last Don Garcia Ramirez, and those of his servants who had accompanied him to the Prado San Sebastian to see the end, returned home.

Dona Inez sat awaiting her husband in the patio. She looked pale and languid; apparently the great holiday of Seville had been anything but a joyful day to her.

Don Garcia divested himself of his cloak and sword, and dismissed the servants to their beds. But when his wife invited him to partake of the supper she had prepared, he turned upon her with very unusual ill-humour. ”It is little like thy wonted wit, senora mia, to bid a man to his breakfast at midnight,” he said. Yet he drank deeply of the Xeres wine that stood on the board beside the venison pasty and the manchet bread.

At last, after long patience, Dona Inez won from his lips what she desired to hear. ”Oh yes; all is over. Our Lady defend us! I have never seen such obstinacy; nor could I have believed it possible unless I had seen it. The criminals encouraged each other to the very last.

Those girls, the sisters of Gonsalez, repeated their Credo at the stake; whereupon the attendant Brethren entreated them to have so much pity on their own souls as to say, 'I believe in the _Roman_ Catholic Church.'

They answered, 'We will do as our brother does.' So the gag was removed, and Doctor Juan cried aloud, 'Add nothing to the good confession you have made already.' But for all that, order was given to strangle them; and one of the friars told us they died in the true faith. I suppose it is not a sin to hope they did.”

After a pause, he continued, in a deeper tone, ”Senor Cristobal amazed me as much as any of them. At the very stake, some of the Brethren undertook to argue with him. But seeing that we were all listening, and might hear somewhat to the hurt of our souls, they began to speak in the Latin tongue. Our physician immediately did the same. I am no scholar myself; but there were learned men there who marked every word, and one of them told me afterwards that the doomed man spoke with as much elegance and propriety as if he had been contending for an academic prize, instead of waiting for the lighting of the fire which was to consume him. This unheard-of calmness and composure, whence is it? The devil's own work, or”----he broke off suddenly and resumed in a different tone, ”Senora mia, have you thought of the hour? In Heaven's name, let us to our beds!”

”I cannot go to rest until you tell me one thing more. Dona Maria de Bohorques?”