8. VIII.
Two hours later, and the cavern which Melchior had
left in solitude and darkness presented other aspects.
It was illuminated by flaring torches, borne by the immediate
attendants of several of the conspirators. A
hundred armed warriors were its occupants, and the reflected
glare of the fire from their shining weapons and
glittering armour made the spectacle a noble and imposing
one. And it was noble and imposing in other and
more essential respects. The true patriots—such as
loved their country, and lamented her downfall and degradation—few
though they were, and compelled to seek
in secrecy and by stealth for their just rights, were now
assembled for the last time ere they awoke the war-cry
and drew the blade openly against the usurper. These
were now met, claiming to be the national council of
Iberia. They claimed to hold in their hands the true
popular sovereignty of Spain; and from that hour we
may date her deliverance from the Goth, and her first
rise as a nation in the presence of the world. True,
they had not yet the power and the sway, but they had
the spirit for the achievement; and it does not need that
we should now be told that where there is that spirit of
freedom, there also will be, in time, the substance. The
bands of the tyrant may press and repress, but it can be
for a season only. Warriors are but flesh, and that perishes;
but the true principle is immortal—though smothered
and hidden in the caverns of the earth, the sacred
fire is never utterly extinguished.
It was to meet this august assembly that Pelayo had
brought his brother. They were assembled when the
two princes reached the entrance of the cavern. Ere
yet the elder Prince Egiza entered the subterranean
apartment, and before his approach was known to those
within, Pelayo once more addressed him. His language
was earnest and imploring. He seized Egiza's
hand as he spoke, and pressed it with all the warmth of
a true affection.
“Brother,” said he, “ere thou goest, and before our
friends behold thee, I implore thee, shake off this weakness.
Remember thy father, thy name, thy own hope
and character. Let them not degrade thee as a coward,
for assuredly will they do this if thou hangest back
when thou shouldst go forward. Remember, it is the
Council of Spain—the great Council of the Nation
which receives thee—the nobles who yet cling to the
throne of thy fathers, and to the ancient principles of
the people. In them is the power of election—in them
is the power of destruction. Life and death are in their
hands, and by thy temper this hour will they judge thee.”
The reply of Egiza was cold, and unresponsive to
the warm appeal of his brother.
“It is thou that hast brought me into this peril, Pelayo,”
said he, reproachfully.
“Alas! my brother, wouldst thou not have perilled
thy good name, thy honour, thy pledged word as well as
mine. I have rescued thee from this peril. Be thou
not now a traitor to thyself. Upon thy word now hangs
thy honour; and more—I say to thee in warning—upon
thy true action will depend thy life. Beware of thy
weakness—pledge thyself to our people—become their
leader, and let them crown thee, as, if thou falterest not,
they will freely do, their king.”
“No more,” said Egiza, “no more! It may not be
as thou sayest. It were a dreadful loss to me now were
I to take arms against Roderick, and I am sworn not to
do so.”
“They will slay thee, Egiza, if thou sayest so,” said
Pelayo.
“My blood be upon thy head!” was the stern reply
as they went forward.
