19. XIX.
The day dawned in clouds upon the combatants.
Ere the first glance of light the warriors of Pelayo were
in motion. He himself was busied with his preparations,
devising and directing in matters which he deemed
essential to his success. Melchior sprang from his
slumbers as he heard the clang of steel about him.
Thyrza, who had slept with her head upon his arm, was
aroused by his rising, and started to her feet. She beheld
her father binding his sash around his waist and
preparing his armour; but she beheld no objects distinctly.
Heavy clouds were hanging in the firmament,
and but a single and sad star in the western heavens
looked forth upon them in encouragement, like hope.
Light gray streaks veined the foggy summits in the east,
and gave indistinct promise of the day. She started
with a hurried exclamation as she beheld the preparations
of her father.
“It is not yet day, my father—thou art not now to
leave me.”
“The warriors of the prince are busy, my child.
Remember, thy father leads the Hebrew people, and
they are this day to strike for the honour of Judah, not
to speak of their own lives and liberties. I may not
sleep longer.”
“Alas! my father, that I may not give thee service in
this strife. Would that I could help thee.”
“My daughter, thou hast thy dagger?”
She put her hand upon her girdle, and detached the
weapon so as to exhibit to his eyes the small rich hilt
within her hand.
“It is well,” said he. “Hear me, my child, my
best beloved, life of my life, and more than any joy in
life to me. Ere long I will leave thee—the strife will
be deadly and dangerous, and I may leave thee for ever.
Let not thy weapon be far from thy hand—remember
thy mother!”
The maiden wept bitterly. He continued—
“If the foe prevail—if the fight go against us—thou
wilt see me no more. The sacrifice which I have
vowed to my people will have been offered, and the toils
of Melchior for their deliverance will be ended.”
She moaned aloud, and clung to him, with her head
upon his bosom, but said nothing.
“The foe will ascend these heights, and then—my
child, thou knowest the brutal nature of the Goth—as
a man, he will slay thee, but as a woman—! My child,
my child, there is hope for thee while thou hast a
weapon, and thy death will save thee from wrong when
my arm will no longer be able to help thee. Swear to
me that thou will not tremble to use upon thy bosom the
steel which has drank the life blood of thy mother.”
“I swear, my father,” cried the maiden, with uplifted
hands.
“Swear by her—by her pure blood—swear!”
“By her blood—by her pure blood, I swear to thee,
my father, to perish by my own hands, and by this sacred
steel, ere the Goth shall set his foot as a conqueror
upon this mountain.”
“God's blessing be upon thee, my child—I leave
thee now. Yet heed thou, my child! look not down
upon the fight when it rages. It is terrible and full of
danger. Lie in safety behind this rock, where the shaft
may not reach thee. I leave thee, Thyrza—I leave
thee.”
