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Sir Henry Morgan, Buccaneer: A Romance of the Spanish Main, a novel by Cyrus Townsend Brady |
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Book 3 - Chapter 13 |
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_ BOOK III CHAPTER XIII. IN WHICH CAPTAIN ALVARADO IS FORSWORN AND WITH DONNA MERCEDES IN HIS ARMS BREAKS HIS PLIGHTED WORD
"Why didn't you let me go?" she asked, struggling feebly in his arms. "It would all have been over then." "I could not, I love you." The words were wrung from him in spite of himself by her deadly peril, by her desperate design which he had only frustrated by superhuman quickness and strength. He was pale, shaking, trembling, unnerved, for her. He scarce knew what he said or did, so little command had he over himself. As he spoke those words "I love you," so blissful for her to hear, she slipped her arm around his neck. It was not in mortal man to resist under such circumstances. He forgot everything--honor, duty, his word, everything he threw to the winds. Before the passion which sought death when denied him his own powers of resistance vanished. He strained her to his breast and bent his head to kiss her. Again and again he drank at the upturned fountain of affection, her lips. The shock had been too much for him. Greater for him than for her. He had seen her upon the verge of eternity. She thought nothing of that in her present joy. She only realized that she was in his arms again, that he had kissed her, and between the kisses he poured out words that were even greater caresses. The others were far behind. They were alone upon the mountain-side with the rocks behind and the great sapphire sea of the Caribbean before them. He held her close to his breast and they forgot everything but love as they gently pricked along the road. It was near noon now, and as the road a furlong farther debouched into an open plateau shaded by trees and watered by a running brook which purled down the mountain-side from some inaccessible cloud-swept height it was a fitting place to make camp, where the whole party, tired by a long morning's travel, could repose themselves until the breeze of afternoon tempered the heat of the day. Here he dismounted, lifted her from horse, and they stood together, side by side. "You have saved me," she whispered, "you have drawn me back from the death that I sought. God has given me to you. We shall never be parted." "I am a false friend, an ungrateful servitor, a forsworn man, a perjured soldier!" he groaned, passing his hand over his pale brow as if to brush away the idea consequent upon his words. "But thou hast my love," she whispered tenderly, swaying toward him again. "Yes--yes. Would that it could crown something else than my dishonor." "Say not so." She kissed him again, fain to dispel the shadow that darkened his face. "I had been faithful," he went on, as if in justification, "had I not seen thee on the brink of that cliff, and then thou wert in my arms--I was lost----" "And I was found. I leaped to death. I shut my eyes as I drove the horse toward the cliff, and I awakened to find myself in your arms--in heaven! Let nothing take me hence." "It can not be," he said, "I must go to the Viceroy when he returns from the Orinoco war, and tell him that I have betrayed him." "I will tell him," she answered, "or wilt thou tell him what I tell thee?" she went on. "Surely." "Then say to him that I sought death rather than be given to Don Felipe or to any one else. Tell him you saved me on the very brink of the cliff, and that never soldier made a better fight for field or flag than thou didst make for thy honor and duty, but that I broke thee down. I had the power, and I used it. The story is as old as Eden--the woman tempted--" "I should have been stronger--I should not have weakened. But I shall fight no more--it is all over." "Ah, thou canst not," she whispered, nestling closer to him. "And tell my father that should harm come to thee, if, in their anger, he or de Tobar lay hand upon thee, it will not advantage their plans, for I swear, if there be no other way, I will starve myself to death to follow thee!" "I can not shelter myself behind a woman." "Then I will tell them both myself," she cried. "You shall know, they shall know, how a Spanish woman can love." "And thou shalt know, too," answered Alvarado firmly, "that though I break my heart, I, an unknown, can expatiate his guilt with all the pride of most ancient lineage and birth highest of them all." It was a brave speech, but he did not release his hold upon Mercedes and in spite of his words when, confident that whatever he might say, however he might struggle, he was hers at last, she smiled up at him again, he kissed her. "When go you to my father, Senor Alvarado?" she asked. "When he returns from the Orinoco." "And that will not be until----" "Perhaps a month." "Wilt love me until then?" "I shall love thee forever." "Nay, but wilt thou tell me so, with every day, every week, every hour, every moment, with kisses like to these?" "Oh, tempt me not!" he whispered; but he returned again and again her caresses. "Ah, my Alvarado, if you have once fallen, what then? Is not one kiss as bad as a thousand?" "Be it so; we will be happy until that time." "One month, one month of heaven, my love, after that let come what may," she answered, her cheeks and eyes aflame, her heart throbbing with exquisite pain in her breast. They would enjoy the day, the future could take care of itself. "Some one approaches!" he said at last, and at the same moment the rest of the party came around the bend of the road. The poor duenna was consumed with anxiety and remorse. "Bernardo," said Alvarado to the sergeant, "we will take our siesta here. Unsaddle the horses and prepare the noon-day meal under the trees. Send one of the troopers ahead to bid Fadrique stop on the road until we rejoin him, keeping good guard. Senora Agapida, you must be tired from the long ride. Let me assist you to dismount." "The Senorita Mercedes!" she asked, as he lifted her to the ground. "Where is her horse?" "He slipped and fell," answered the girl promptly. "Fell? Madre de Dios!" "Yes, over the cliff. Captain Alvarado lifted me from the saddle just in time." "I shall make a novena of devotion to St. Jago for thy preservation, sweet Mercedes," cried the duenna, "and you, young sir, must have a strong arm----" "It is ever at your service," answered Alvarado gravely, bowing before her. The old woman's heart went out to the gallant young man, so handsome, so brave, so strong, so distinguished looking. "Why," she mused under her breath, "could he not have been the one?" By this time the little place was filled with soldiers, attendants, and muleteers. Some kindled fires, others unpacked hampers loaded with provisions, others prepared a place where the party might rest, and as, to restore order out of this confusion, Alvarado turned hither and thither he was followed in all his movements by the lovely eyes of the woman who had broken him, and who had won him. During the interval of repose the young man allowed his party the two lovers were constantly together. Alvarado had made a faint effort to go apart and leave Mercedes to herself, but with passionate determination she had refused to allow it. She had thrown prudence to the winds. Careless of whoever might see, of whoever might comment, heedless of the reproving duenna, indifferent to ancient practice, reckless of curious glances, she had insisted upon accompanying the captain and he had yielded. He was doomed in his own soul to death. He intended to tell the Viceroy and de Tobar everything, and he had no doubt that one or the other would instantly kill him. It was a fate to which he would make no resistance. Meanwhile he would enjoy the day. There was a melancholy pleasure, too, in the thought, for this morning had assured him of it, that whatever awaited him Mercedes would belong to no one else. If they killed him she had sworn that she would not survive him. If they strove to force her into the arms of another, she had declared she would die rather than comply, and he believed her. Other women in like circumstances might have resorted to a convent, but Mercedes was not of the temperament which makes that calm harbor an inviting refuge. If she could not have Alvarado, she would simply die--that was all. Under the circumstances, therefore, as he had already forfeited his own esteem, he hesitated no more. Indeed, before the passion of the woman he loved, who loved him, it was not possible. In her presence he could do nothing else. They abandoned themselves with all the fervor of youth and passion to their transports of affection. They wandered away from the others and by the side of the brook beneath the shelter of the trees remained together and whispered all the love that beat within their freed breasts. They might die to-morrow, to-day they lived and loved. Fain would they have prolonged the Elysian dream forever, but the descending sun of the afternoon at last warned Alvarado, if they would reach La Guayra that night, that they must resume their journey. Reluctantly he gave the order to mount. This time, utterly indifferent to the Senora Agapida, Mercedes, mounted on one of the led horses, rode openly by Alvarado's side. Sustained by his presence, constantly in touch with him, she made the way down the difficult wanderings of the rocky mountain trail. They watched the sun set in all its glory over the tropic sea. The evening breeze blew softly about them riding side by side. Then the night fell upon them. Over them blazed the glorious canopy of the tropic stars, chief among them the fiery Southern Cross, emblem of the faith they cherished, the most marvelous diadem in the heavens. There below them twinkled the lights of La Guayra. The road grew broader and smoother now. It was almost at the level of the beach. They would have to pass through the town presently, and thence up a steep rocky road which wound around the mountain until they surmounted the cliff back of the city and arrived at the palace of the Governor upon the hillside, where Mercedes was to lodge. An hour, at least, would bring them to their destination now. There was nothing to apprehend. The brigands in the fastnesses of the mountains or the savages, who sometimes strayed along the road, never ventured so near the town. Fadrique, by Alvarado's orders, had fallen back nearer the main body so as to be within call. "We shall be there in a little while. See yonder, the lights of the town," said the captain. "While thou art with me," said the girl, "it matters little where we are. There are but two places in the world now----" "And those are----?" "Where thou art and where thou art not. If I may only be with thee, if we may be together, I want nothing else." She had scarcely spoken before the sound of a cry followed by a shot broke on the night. _ |
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