University of Virginia Library

24. XXIV.

At the Tribune's Gate, according to appointment,
Pelayo, meanwhile, had met with many of the nobles
of his party,—Goths and natives alike. The place
was a thoroughfare; but Pelayo had designated it for
the purposes of meeting, as he well knew that no privacy
was so secret as that of the crowd, and no assemblage
so little liable to suspicion. The plot was ripening
fast. The money of the Hebrew had procured both
arms and men, and every circumstance persuaded Pelayo
the more to a rapid concentration of all his plans
for the approaching moment of revolution. He knew
the danger of a secret intrusted to so many, when the
various parties were not kept frequently together. He
knew the necessity of excitement—the excitement of

continued strife—to keep the mixed multitude as one.
More than this, alarming intelligence had reached him
of the suspicions of Don Roderick, the usurper, with
regard to the conspiracy, and he had just received a
missive from the Archbishop Oppas, advising him that
he had been summoned by Roderick to attend a general
council of the nation at the royal city of Toledo.
Other accounts informed him that Count Julian had
been ordered suddenly to proceed to his command at
Ceuta, in order to oppose an unlooked-for irruption of
the Moors. This movement would necessarily employ
the army of Roderick in a remote quarter, leaving free
room and a fine opportunity for the success of a sudden
and strong blow, struck in the chief cities, by a simultaneous
movement of the conspirators; who, meanwhile,
had been briskly engaged in bringing their followers
together, and, by means of the gold which they had
freely distributed, had secured converts everywhere to
their cause. All the arguments spoke for the propriety
of an early effort, and the conspirators separated, leaving
the Prince Pelayo, who remained in waiting for another
agent of his cause. Nor did he wait long after
their departure. The page of Melchior, true, and vigilant
as true, approached him as soon as they were out
of sight. Pelayo received his packet, and pressed the
boy's hand while he took it.

“Thou art a noble servant to thy father, Lamech,—
thou art a page among a thousand;—would that thou
wert mine, Lamech. Wouldst thou be faithful to me,
as thou art to him?”

“Faithful—faithful to thee, my lord?” was the stammering
response of the messenger.

“Ay, faithful, Lamech. But I know thou wouldst.
Thou wouldst love me as truly as thou lovest thy father,
if thy lips would promise it.”

“Love thee, my lord—”

“Ay, love me, Lamech. I love thee, boy, though

thou art not of my kin, and of another and a hated blood.
Thou hast grown upon my love from thy good service
and thy fidelity, and thy clear, true love for thy father.”

The tears stole into the eyes of the page, but no word
was uttered. Pelayo spoke to him of other topics.

“Tell thy father that thou hast seen me,—that the
Lord Eudon has already brought his men together,—that
the arms have been delivered to Aylor by the Hebrew
warrior Abimelech, who has mustered a goodly troop
along the Pass of Wallia. Say yet more, and forget not
this, Lamech, that we hold to our purpose of assemblage
at the Cave of Wamba. Melchior must be there, to
speak after his own fashion to the Jews who will gather
with us. His words are much to them. Hast thou
heard me, Lamech?”

“I have, my lord.”

“Thou wilt remember all that I have said to thee, so
that Melchior will hear it as from my own lips?”

“He shall hear all, my lord.”

“Then thou must go now, Lamech. The night
grows, and thou hast a long path before thee. But thou
fearest nothing, Lamech?”

“Nothing, my lord.”

“Would thou wert son of mine, Lamech, Jew though
thou art. Would thou wert son of mine. But go thy
ways,—give me thy hand—”

The soft fingers trembled in the gentle grasp of the
warrior—

“Go thy ways, and hurry fast to thy dwelling. These
hands are not formed for strife, and would little avail thee
if lifted against an enemy. Good-night, boy.”

She faltered forth a good-night in return, and her heart
died away in a sweet sadness within her rapidly-heaving
bosom, as she turned from him to pursue her homeward
progress.