Part 20 (1/2)

Alcala's pale features showed the sufferings which he had lately undergone: he looked like one newly risen from a sick-bed, with sunken cheek, colourless lip, and languid eye. As with graceful courtesy the cavalier proffered his wasted hand to the lady, on the minds of both Alcala and Antonia flashed back memory of the hour when that hand had been deemed unworthy to touch the white kid glove of the heiress--that hour when, like an empress, she had stepped into her galley on the glittering Guadalquivir.

Silently Alcala conducted Antonia through the arched way to the carriage which was to bear her from Seville. Not till she had placed her foot on the carriage-step did the cavalier utter a word.

”Farewell, senorita!” said Alcala. Antonia turned towards him, but in silence; the eyes of the two met--it was the last look that was ever to pa.s.s between them. Soon the motion of the rolling wheels separated Alcala and Antonia de Rivadeo for ever.

But for the support of Lucius's arm, Alcala could hardly have walked back to the patio. He sank down wearily on the first seat that he reached, too much exhausted to do more than extend his hand, with a faint smile on his lips, to Inez, who knelt by his side.

”Bring wine, Teresa!” cried Inez, looking anxiously at the face of her brother.

”Wine!” exclaimed the old woman, stung into momentary forgetfulness of the presence of the English stranger--”wine!” she repeated bitterly, ”when the last drop left in this ruined house was poured out for that proud woman; and there's not a cuarto in the coffer to buy more for the caballero if his life depended upon it! Woe, woe to the Aguileras!”

”Never say so!” cried Lucius Lepine, and the joy of being the bearer of good news seemed to the young man at that moment to outweigh all that he had gone through to procure it. ”The Aguileras have a casket of golden plate and rich jewels safely buried near a palm-tree beside a wood, not two miles from Seville; they have only to dig it out and possess it. Donna Inez, the Englishman has kept his word.”

”A casket of gold plate and jewels!” almost screamed out Teresa, who scarcely dared to believe her own ears; ”you don't say it--you can't mean it!--what! the box with clamps of steel, the old senora's jewel-case, which I've handled many a day!” The wrinkled hand laid on the arm of Lucius was shaking with violent excitement.

”I do say it--I do mean it,” replied Lucius, whose countenance was beaming with pleasure.

”But, my friend, how is this possible?” asked Alcala; ”the miserable Chico--”

”Lies murdered by his own accomplices,” said Lucius more gravely; ”fearful retribution has overtaken the servant who robbed his master.”

Lucius then recounted to his deeply interested hearers the tale of his night's adventures, dwelling as lightly as he could on what only related to himself. No one interrupted the narration, save Teresa, who could not refrain ever and anon from uttering some e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, now of indignation, now of delight. When Lucius came to the account of burying the box near the palm-tree, the old duenna could restrain her feelings no longer. To the astonishment of the Englishman she suddenly flung herself at his feet, and clasped his knees in an ecstasy of grat.i.tude, admiration, and joy!

”The blessing of all the saints be upon you, brave, n.o.ble Senor Inglesito!” exclaimed old Teresa, while tears streamed down her wrinkled face; ”if you were as deep-dyed a heretic as Luther himself, I would bless you a thousand times over! You have saved a n.o.ble family from ruin!”

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

A TREASURE.

Perhaps the proudest and happiest hour of Teresa's life was that in which she saw the treasure, the family heirlooms, in the hands of Alcala de Aguilera, as they were on the following day. Teresa clasped the steel-clamped box as if it had been a living child. Would she not burnish up the rusted metal till every hinge should s.h.i.+ne as brightly as Aguilera's honour! The duenna handled the contents of the case with as much reverence as she might have shown to the hair of Santa Veronica! Every article in that jewel-box had its history for Teresa.

That bracelet was a wedding-gift from a d.u.c.h.ess to the mother of Alcala and Inez; that ring had been worn by a cavalier who had slain three Moors with his own right hand; that gold snuff-box was a gift from the Empress Catherine to an Aguilera then amba.s.sador at the Russian Court; those medals were, every one of them, tokens of some gallant deed performed by one of the ancestors of Alcala. Teresa counted each pearl in the chaplet, and every link in the ma.s.sive gold chain.

Alcala and Inez watched with amus.e.m.e.nt the old duenna's delight.

”Nay, Teresa, lay not down that chain,” said De Aguilera; ”you have well earned some little acknowledgment of your long and faithful service. The very first use which we make of our newly-recovered property is to show our grat.i.tude to her who in weal or woe has never forsaken our house.”

”The chain--for me!” exclaimed the astonished duenna; ”what could the like of me do with so costly an ornament as this?”

”Turn it into dollars,” said Alcala quietly; but the Spanish cavalier could not help a flush rising to his cheek as he added, ”as I am going to turn the goblet of gold.”

Teresa looked aghast at such an unexpected announcement. She could scarcely believe that anything could induce Alcala to part with that splendid relic of family grandeur, embossed with the Aguilera arms--a goblet which had been touched by the lips of princes--a goblet which had been the most costly ornament of a table at which a hundred guests had sat down.

”Better part with anything than with that!” exclaimed the old servant, making a pa.s.sionate protest against what seemed to her little short of sacrilege.

”I have talked the subject over with my sister,” replied Aguilera; ”neither of us would touch our grandmother's property during her lifetime, and the greater part of the gems are hers. Nor is this a time for disposing of jewels; for that we must wait for more quiet days. Gold always commands its value.”

”But that goblet,” expostulated Teresa--”that which was the pride of your house!”