 | CHAPTER X. Mercedes of Castile, or, The voyage to Cathay |  |
10. CHAPTER X.
Making sweet solace of some scandall new,
A boisterous noise came thondring at the gate,
And soon a sturdie boy approach'd in view;
With gold far glitteraund were his vestments blue,
And pye-shaped hat, and of the silver sheen
An huge broad buckle glaunst in either shoe,
And round his necke an Indian kerchiefe clean,
And in his hand a switch;—a jolly wight I ween.”
Mickle.
Notwithstanding the noble conceptions that lay at the
bottom of the voyage we have just related, the perserverance
and self-devotion that were necessary to its accomplishment,
and the magnificence of the consequences that
were dependent on its success, it attracted very little attention,
amid the stirring incidents and active selfishness of the
age, until the result was known. Only a month before the
arrangement was made with Columbus, the memorable
edict of the two sovereigns, for the expulsion of the Jews,
had been signed; and this uprooting of so large a portion
of the Spanish nation was, of itself, an event likely to
draw off the eyes of the people from an enterprise deemed
as doubtful, and which was sustained by means so insignificant,
as that of the great navigator. The close of the
month of July had been set as the latest period for the departure
of these persecuted religionists; and thus, at the
very time, almost on the very day, when Columbus sailed
from Palos, was the attention of the nation directed towards
what might be termed a great national calamity. The
departure was like the setting forth from Egypt, the highways
being thronged with the moving masses, many of
which were wandering they knew not whither.
The king and queen had left Granada in May, and after
remaining two months in Castile, they passed into Aragon,
about the commencement of August, in which kingdom
they happened to be when the expedition sailed. Here
affairs of importance, and, quite probably, disposed to avoid
the spectacle of the misery their Jewish edict had inflicted,
Castile having contained much the greater portion of that
class of their subjects. In October, a visit was paid to the
turbulent Catalans; the court passing the entire winter in
Barcelona. Nor did momentous events cease to occupy
them while in this part of their territories. On the 7th of
December an attempt was made on the life of Ferdinand;
the assassin inflicting a severe, though not a fatal, wound,
by a blow on the neck. During the critical weeks in which
the life of the king was deemed to be in danger, Isabella
watched at his bed-side, with the untiring affection of a devoted
wife; and her thoughts dwelt more on her affections
than on any worldly aggrandisement. Then followed the
investigations into the motives of the criminal; conspiracies
ever being distrusted in such cases, although history would
probably show that much the greater part of these wicked
attempts on the lives of sovereigns, are more the results of
individual fanaticism, than of any combined plans to destroy.
Isabella, whose gentle spirit grieved over the misery her
religious submission had induced her to inflict on the Jews,
was spared the additional sorrow of mourning for a husband,
taken away by means so violent. Ferdinand gradually
recovered. All these occurrences, together with the
general cares of the state, had served to divide the thoughts
of even the queen from the voyage; while the politic Ferdinand,
in his mind, had long since set down the gold expended
in the outfit as so much money lost.
The balmy spring of the south opened as usual, and the
fertile province of Catalonia had already become delightful
with the fresh verdure of the close of March. The king
had, for some weeks, resumed his usual occupations, and
Isabella, relieved from her conjugal fears, had again fallen
into the quiet current of her duties and her usual acts of
beneficence. Indisposed to the gorgeousness of her station
by the recent events, and ever pining for the indulgence of
the domestic affections, this estimable woman, notwithstanding
the strong natural disposition she had always felt for
that sort of life, had lived more among her children and
confidants, of late, than had been even her wont. Her earliest
was ever near her person, and Mercedes passed most of her
time either in the immediate presence of her royal mistress,
or in that of her children.
There had been a small reception one evening, near the
close of the month; and Isabella, glad to escape from such
scenes, had withdrawn to her private apartments, to indulge
in conversation in the circle she so much loved. It was
near the hour of midnight, the king being at work, as usual,
in an adjoining closet. There were present, besides the
members of the royal family and Doña Beatriz with her
lovely niece, the Archbishop of Granada, Luis de St. Angel,
and Alonzo de Quintanilla, the two last of whom had
been summoned by the prelate, to discuss some question of
clerical finance before their illustrious mistress. All business,
however, was over, and Isabella was rendering the
circle agreeable with the condescension of a princess, and
the gentle grace of a woman.
“Are there fresh tidings from the unfortunate and deluded
Hebrews, Lord Archbishop?” demanded Isabella,
whose kind feelings ever led her to regret the severity
which religious dependence on her confessors had induced
her to sanction. “Our prayers should surely attend them,
notwithstanding our policy and duty have demanded their
expulsion.”
“Señora,” answered Fernando de Talavera, “they are
doubtless serving Mammon among the Moors and Turks,
as they served him in Spain. Let not your Highness' gracious
mind be disturbed on account of these descendants of
the enemies and crucifiers of Christ, who, if they suffer at
all, do but suffer justly, for the unutterable sin of their forefathers.
Let us rather inquire, my gracious mistress, of
the Señores St. Angel and Quintanilla here, what hath become
of their favourite Colon, the Genoese; and when they
look for his return, dragging the Great Khan, a captive, by
the beard!”
“We know nought of him, holy prelate,” put in de St.
Angel briskly, “since his departure from the Canaries.”
“The Canaries!” interrupted the queen, in a little surprise.
“Hath aught been received, that cometh from that
quarter?”
“By report only, Señora. Letters have not reached
any in Spain, that I can learn; but there is a rumour from
Portugal, that the admiral touched at Gomera and the Grand
Canary, where it would seem he had his difficulties, and
whence he shortly after departed, holding a western course;
since which time no tidings have been received from either
of the caravels.”
“By which fact, Lord Archbishop,” added Quintanilla,
“we can perceive that trifles are not likely to turn the adventurers
back.”
“I 'll warrant ye, Señores, that a Genoese adventurer
who holdeth their Highnesses' commission as an admiral,
will be in no unseemly haste to get rid of the dignity!”
rejoined the prelate, laughing without much deference to
his mistress's concessions in Columbus's favour. “One
does not see rank, authority, and emolument, carelessly
thrown aside, when they may be retained by keeping aloof
from the power whence they spring.”
“Thou art unjust to the Genoese, holy sir, and judgest
him harshly,” observed the queen. “Truly, I did not
know of these tidings from the Canaries, and rejoice to
hear that Colon hath got thus far in safety. Hath not the
past been esteemed a most boisterous winter among mariners,
Señor de St. Angel?”
“So much so, your Highness, that I have heard the seamen
here, in Barcelona, swear that, within the memory
of man, there hath not been another like it. Should ill
luck wait upon Colon, I trust this circumstance may be remembered
as his excuse; though I doubt if he be very near
any of our tempests and storms.”
“Not he!” exclaimed the bishop, triumphantly. “It
will be seen that he hath been safely harboured in some
river of Africa; and we shall have some question yet to
settle about him with Dom Joao of Portugal.”
“Here is the king to give us his opinion,” interposed
Isabella. “It is long since I have heard him mention the
name of Colon. Have you entirely forgotten our Genoese
admiral, Don Fernando?”
“Before I am questioned on subjects so remote,” returned
the king, smiling, “let me inquire into matters nearer
and giveth receptions, past the hour of midnight?”
“Call you this a court, Señor? Here are but our own
dear children, Beatriz and her niece, with the good archbishop,
and those two faithful servants of your own.”
“True; but you overlook the ante-chambers, and those
who await your pleasure without.”
“None can await without at this unusual hour; surely
you jest, my lord.”
“Then your own page, Diego de Ballesteros, hath reported
falsely. Unwilling to disturb your privacy, at this
unreasonable hour, he hath come to me, saying that one
of strange conduct and guise is in the palace, insisting on
an interview with the queen, let it be late or early. The
accounts of this man's deportment are so singular, that I
have ordered him to be admitted, and have come myself to
witness the interview. The page telleth me that he swears
all hours are alike, and that night and day are equally
made for our uses.”
“Dearest Don Fernando, there may be treason in this!”
“Fear not, Isabella; assassins are not so bold, and
the trusty rapiers of these gentlemen will prove sufficient
for our protection—Hist! there are footsteps, and we must
appear calm, even though we apprehend a tumult.”
The door opened, and Sancho Mundo stood in the royal
presence. The air and appearance of so singular a being
excited both astonishment and amusement, and every eye
was fastened on him in wonder; and this so much the more,
because he had decked his person with sundry ornaments
from the imaginary Indies, among which were one or two
bands of gold. Mercedes alone detected his profession by
his air and attire, and she rose involuntarily, clasping her
hands with energy, and suffering a slight exclamation to
escape her. The queen perceived this little pantomime,
and it at once gave a right direction to her own thoughts.
“I am Isabella, the queen,” she said, rising, without any
further suspicion of danger; “and thou art a messenger
from Colon, the Genoese?”
Sancho, who had found great difficulty in gaining admittance,
now that his end was obtained, took matters with his
native coolness. His first act was to fall on his knees, as
had caught the habit of using the weed of Hayti and Cuba,
from the natives, and was, in fact, the first seaman who
ever chewed tobacco. The practice had already got to be
confirmed with him, and before he answered, or as soon as
he had taken this, for him, novel position, he saw fit to fill
a corner of his mouth with the attractive plant. Then,
giving his wardrobe a shake, for all the decent clothes he
owned were on his person, he disposed himself to make a
suitable reply.
“Señora—Doña—your Highness,” he answered, “any
one might have seen that at a glance. I am Sancho Mundo,
of the Ship-Yard Gate; one of your Highness' Excellency's
most faithful subjects and mariners, being a native and resident
of Moguer.”
“Thou comest from Colon, I say?”
“Señora, I do; many thanks to your Royal Grace for
the information. Don Christopher hath sent me across the
country from Lisbon, seeing that the wily Portuguese would
be less likely to distrust a simple mariner, like myself, than
one of your every-day, booted couriers. 'T is a weary
road, and there is not a mule between the stables of Lisbon
and the palace of Barcelona, fit for a Christian to bestride.”
“Then, hast thou letters? One like thee can scarcely
bear aught else.”
“Therein, your Grace's Highness, Doña Reyña, is
mistaken; though I am far from bearing half the number
of doblas I had at starting. Mass! the innkeepers took me
for a grandee, by the manner in which they charged!”
“Give the man gold, good Alonzo—he is one that liketh
his reward ere he will speak.”
Sancho coolly counted the pieces that were put into his
hand, and, finding them greatly to exceed his hopes, he had
no longer any motive for prevarication.
“Speak fellow!” cried the king. “Thou triflest, where
thou owest thy duty and obedience.”
The sharp, quick voice of Ferdinand had much more effect
on the ear of Sancho, than the gentler tones of Isabella,
notwithstanding even his rude nature had been impressed
with the matronly beauty and grace of the latter.
“If your Highness would condescend to let me know
what you wish to hear, I will speak in all gladness.”
“Where is Colon?” demanded the queen.
“At Lisbon, lately, Señora, though I think now at Palos
de Moguer, or in that neighbourhood.”
“Whither hath he been?”
“To Cipango, and the territories of the Great Khan;
forty days' sail from Gomera, and a country of marvellous
beauty and excellence!”
“Thou canst not—darest not trifle with me! Can we
put credit in thy words?”
“If your Highness only knew Sancho Mundo, you
would not feel this doubt. I tell you, Señora, and all these
noble cavaliers and dames, that Don Christopher Colon
hath discovered the other side of the earth, which we now
know to be round, by having circled it; and that he hath
found out that the north star journeyeth about in the
heavens, like a gossip spreading her news; and that he
hath taken possession of islands as large as Spain, in which
gold groweth, and where the holy church may employ itself
in making christians to the end of time.”
“The letter—Sancho—give me the letter. Colon would
scarce send thee as a verbal expositor.”
The fellow now undid sundry coverings of cloth and
paper, until he reached the missive of Columbus, when,
without rising from his knees, he held it out towards the
queen, giving her the trouble to move forward several paces
to receive it. So unexpected and astounding were the
tidings, and so novel the whole scene, that no one interfered,
leaving Isabella to be the sole actor, as she was, virtually, the
sole speaker. Sancho having thus successfully acquitted
himself of a task that had been expressly confided to him
on account of his character and appearance, which, it was
thought, would prove his security from arrest and plunder,
settled down quietly on his heels, for he had been directed
not to rise until ordered; and drawing forth the gold he had
received, he began coolly to count it anew. So absorbing
was the attention all gave to the queen, that no one heeded
the mariner or his movements. Isabella opened the letter,
which her looks devoured, as they followed line after line.
As was usual with Columbus, the missive was long, and it
moved, every eye being fastened on the speaking
countenance of the queen. There, were seen the heightening
flush of pleasure and surprise, the glow of delight and
wonder, and the look of holy rapture. When the letter
was ended, Isabella turned her eyes upward to heaven,
clasped her hands with energy, and exclaimed—
“Not unto us, O Lord, but to Thee, be all the honour
of this wonderful discovery, all the benefits of this great
proof of thy goodness and power!”
Thus saying, she sunk into a seat and dissolved in tears.
Ferdinand uttered a slight ejaculation at the words of his
royal consort; and then he gently took the letter from her
unresisting hand, and read it with great deliberation and
care. It was not often that the wary King of Aragon was
as much affected, in appearance at least, as on this occasion.
The expression of his face, at first, was that of wonder;
eagerness, not to say avidity, followed; and when he
had finished reading, his grave countenance was unequivocally
illuminated by exultation and joy.
“Good Luis de St. Angel!” he cried, “and thou, honest
Alonzo de Quintanilla, these must be grateful tidings to
you both. Even thou, holy prelate, wilt rejoice that the
church is like to have acquisitions so glorious—albeit, no
favourer of the Genoese of old. Far more than all our
expectations are realized, for Colon hath truly discovered
the Indies; increasing our dominions, and otherwise advancing
our authority in a most unheard-of manner.”
It was unusual to see Don Ferdinand so excited, and he
seemed conscious himself, that he was making an extraordinary
exhibition, for he immediately advanced to the queen,
and taking her hand, he led her towards his own cabinet.
In passing out of the saloon, he indicated to the three
nobles that they might follow to the council. The king
made this sudden movement more from habitual wariness,
than any settled object, his mind being disturbed in a way
to which he was unaccustomed, while caution formed a part
of his religion, as well as of his policy. It is not surprising,
therefore, that when he and the party he invited to follow
him had left the room, there remained only the princesses,
the Marchioness of Moya, and Mercedes. No sooner had
retired to their own apartments, leaving our heroine, her
guardian, and Sancho, the sole occupants of the saloon.
The latter still remained on his knees, scarce heeding what
had passed, so intensely was he occupied with his own situation,
and his own particular sources of satisfaction.
“Thou canst rise, friend,” observed Doña Beatriz—
“their Highnesses are no longer present.”
At this intelligence Sancho quitted his humble posture,
brushed his knees with some care, and looked about him
with the composure that he was wont to exhibit in studying
the heavens at sea.
“Thou wert of Colon's company, friend, by the manner
in which thou hast spoken, and the circumstance that the
admiral hath employed thee as his courier?”
“You may well believe that, Señora, your Excellency,
for most of my time was passed at the helm, which was
within three fathoms of the very spot that Don Christopher
and the Señor de Muños loved so well, that they never quitted
it, except to sleep, and not always then.”
“Hadst thou a Señor de Muños of thy party?” resumed
the Marchioness, making a sign to her ward to control her
feelings.
“That had we Señora, and a Señor Gutierrez, and a
certain Don Somebody Else, and they all three did not occupy
more room than one common man. Prithee, honourable
and agreeable Señora, is there one Doña Beatriz de
Cabrera, the Marchioness of Moya, a lady of the illustrious
house of Bobadilla, anywhere about the court of our gracious
queen?”
“I am she, and thou hast a message for me, from this
very Señor de Muños, of whom thou hast spoken.”
“I no longer wonder that there are great lords with their
beautiful ladies, and poor sailors with wives, that no one
envies! Scarce can I open my mouth, but it is known
what I wish to say, which is knowledge to make one party
great, and the other party little! Mass!—Don Christopher,
himself, will need all his wit, if he journeyeth as far as Barcelona!”
“Tell us of this Pedro de Muños; for thy message is to
me.”
“Then, Señora, I will tell you of your own brave nephew,
the Conde de Llera, who goeth by two other names
in the caravel, one of which is supposed to be a sham, while
the other is still the greatest deception of the two.”
“Is it then known who my nephew really is? Are
many persons acquainted with his secret?”
“Certainly, Señora; it is known, firstly, to himself; secondly,
to Don Christopher; thirdly, to me; fourthly, to
Master Alonzo Pinzon, if he be still in the flesh, as most
probably he is not. Then it is known to your ladyship;
and this beautiful Señorita must have some suspicions of
the matter.”
“Enough—I see the secret is not public; though, how
one of thy class came to be of it, I cannot explain. Tell
me of my nephew:—did he, too, write? if so, let me, at
once, peruse his letter.”
“Señora, my departure took Don Luis by surprise, and
he had no time to write. The admiral had given the princes
and princesses, that we brought from Española, in charge
to the Conde, and he had too much to do to be scribbling
letters, else would he have written sheets to an aunt as
respectable as yourself.”
“Princes and princesses!—What mean you, friend, by
such high-sounding terms?”
“Only that we have brought several of these great personages
to Spain, to pay their respects to their Highnesses.
We deal with none of the common fry, Señora, but with
the loftiest princes, and the most beautiful princesses of the
east.”
“And dost thou really mean that persons of this high
rank have returned with the admiral?”
“Out of all question, lady, and one of a beauty so rare,
that the fairest dames of Castile need look to it, if they
wish not to be outdone. She, in particular, is Don Luis's
friend and favourite.”
“Of whom speakest thou?” demanded Doña Beatriz, in
the lofty manner in which she was wont to insist on being
answered directly. “What is the name of this princess,
and whence doth she come?”
“Her name, your excellency, is Doña Ozema de Hayti,
of a part of which country her brother, Don Mattinao, is
of kin. Don Luis and your humble servant paid that court
a visit—”
“Thy tale is most improbable, fellow — art thou one
whom Don Luis would be likely to select as a companion
on such an occasion?”
“Look at it as you will, Señora, it is as true as that this
is the court of Don Ferdinand and Doña Isabella. You
must know, illustrious Marchioness, that the young count
is a little given to roving about among us sailors, and on
one occasion, a certain Sancho Mundo, of Moguer, happened
to be of the same voyage; and thus we became
known to each other. I kept the noble's secret, and he got
to be Sancho's friend. When Don Luis went to pay a visit
to Don Mattinao, the cacique, which word meaneth `your
Highness,' in the eastern tongue, Sancho must go with him,
and Sancho went. When King Caonabo came down from
the mountains to carry off the princess Doña Ozema, for a
wife, and the princess was unwilling to go, why there
remained nothing to be done, but for the Conde de Llera
and his friend Sancho of the Ship-Yard Gate, to fight the
whole army in her defence, which we did, gaining as great
a victory as Don Fernando, our sovereign master, ever
gained over the Moors.”
“Carrying off the princess yourselves, as would seem!
Friend Sancho, of the Ship-Yard Gate, if that be thy appellation,
this tale of thine is ingenious, but it lacketh probability.
Were I to deal justly by thee, honest Sancho, it
would be to order thee the stripes thou meritest so well, as
a reward for this trifling.”
“The man speaketh as he hath been taught,” observed
Mercedes, in a low, unsteady voice; “I fear, Señora, there
is too much truth in his tale!”
“You need fear nothing, beautiful Señorita,” put in Sancho,
altogether unmoved at the menace implied by the words
of the Marchioness, “since the battle hath been fought, the
victory hath been gained, and both the heroes escaped uninjured.
This illustrious Señora, to whom I can forgive
any thing, as the aunt of the best friend I have on earth—
any thing spoken I mean—will remember that the Haytians
known nothing of arquebuses, by means of which we defeated
that Don Luis hath broken singly, and by means of his
own good lance.”
“Ay, fellow,” answered Doña Beatriz, “but that hath
been in the saddle, behind plaits of steel, and with a weapon
that hath overturned even Alonzo de Ojedo!”
“Hast thou truly brought away with thee the princess
thou hast named?” asked Mercedes earnestly.
“I swear to it, Señora and Señorita, illustrious ladies
both, by the holy mass, and all the saints in the calendar!
A princess, moreover, surpassing in beauty the daughters
of our own blessed queen, if the fair ladies who passed out
of this room, even now, are they, as I suspect.”
“Out upon thee, knave!” cried the indignant Beatriz—
“I will no more of this, and marvel that my nephew should
have employed one of so loose a tongue, on any of his
errands. Go to, and learn discretion ere the morning, or
the favour of even thy admiral will not save thy bones.
Mercedes, we will seek our rest—the hour is late.”
Sancho was immediately left alone, and in a minute a
page appeared to show him to the place where he was to
pass the night. The old mariner had grumbled a little to
himself, concerning the spirit of Don Luis's aunt, counted
anew his gold, and was about to take possession of his
pallet, when the same page re-appeared to summon him to
another interview. Sancho, who knew little distinction
between night and day, made no objections, especially when
he was told that his presence was required by the lovely
Señorita, whose gentle, tremulous voice had so much interested
him, in the late interview. Mercedes received her
rude guest, in a small saloon of her own, after having
parted from her guardian for the night. As he entered,
her face was flushed, her eye bright, and her whole
demeanour, to one more expert in detecting female emotions,
would have betrayed intense anxiety.
“Thou hast had a long and weary journey, Sancho,”
said our heroine, when alone with the seaman, “and, I
pray thee accept this gold, as a small proof of the interest
with which I have heard the great tidings of which thou
hast been the bearer.”
“Señorita!” exclaimed Sancho, affecting indifference to
think me mercenary? the honour of being the messenger,
and of being admitted to converse with such illustrious
ladies, more than pays me for any thing I could do.”
“Still, thou may'st need money for thy wants, and wilt
not refuse that which a lady offereth.”
“On that ground, I would accept it, Doña Señorita, even
were it twice as much.”
So saying, Sancho placed the money, with a suitable resignation,
by the side of that which he had previously
received by order of the queen. Mercedes now found herself
in the situation that they who task their powers too
much, are often fated to endure; in other words, now she
had at command the means of satisfying her own doubts,
she hesitated about using them.
“Sancho,” Mercedes at length commenced, “thou hast
been with the Señor Colon, throughout this great and extraordinary
voyage, and must know much that it will be curious
for us, who have lived quietly in Spain, to hear. Is all
thou hast said about the princes and princesses true?”
“As true, Señorita, as such things need be for a history.
Mass!—Any one who hath been in a battle, or seen any
other great adventure, and then cometh to hear it read of,
afterwards, will soon learn to understand the difference
between the thing itself, and the history that may be given
of it. Now, I was—”
“Never mind thy other adventures, good Sancho; tell
me only of this. Are there really a Prince Mattinao, and a
Princess Ozema his sister, and have both accompanied the
admiral to Spain?”
“I said not that, beautiful Señorita, for Don Mattinao
remained behind to rule his people. It is only his handsome
sister, who hath followed Don Christopher and Don
Luis to Palos.”
“Followed!—Do the admiral and the Conde de Llera
possess such influence over royal ladies, as to induce them
to abandon their native country and to follow them to a
foreign land!”
“Ay, Señorita, that might seem out of rule in Castile, or
Portugal, or even in France. But Hayti is not yet a Christian
country, and a princess there may not be more than
not even as much. Still, a princess is a princess,
and a handsome princess is a handsome princess. Doña
Ozema, here, is a wonderful creature, and beginneth already
to prattle your pure Castilian, an' she had been brought up
at Toledo, or Burgos. But Don Luis is a most encouraging
master, and no doubt made great head-way, during the
time he was living in her palace, as it might be alone with
her, before that incarnate devil Don Caonabo came down
with his followers to seize the lady.”
“Is this lady a Christian princess, Sancho?”
“Heaven bless your own pure soul, Doña Señorita, she
can boast of but little in that way; still, she hath made
something of a beginning, as I see she now weareth a cross
—one small in size, it is true, but precious in material as,
indeed, it ought to be, seeing that it is a present from one
as noble and rich as the Count of Llera.”
“A cross, say'st thou, Sancho!” interrupted Mercedes,
almost gasping for breath, yet so far subduing her feelings
as to prevent the old seaman from detecting them; “hath
Don Luis succeeded in inducing her to accept of a cross?”
“That hath he, Señorita—one of precious stones, that he
once wore at his own neck.”
“Know'st thou the stones? — was it of turquoise, embellished
with the finest gold?”
“For the gold I can answer, lady, though my learning
hath never reached as high as the precious stones. The
heavens of Hayti, however, are not bluer than the stones of
that cross. Doña Ozema calls it `Mercedes,' by which I
understand that she looketh for the mercies of the crucifixion
to help her benighted soul.”
“Is this cross, then, held so common, that it hath gotten
to be the subject of discourse even for men of thy class?”
“Hearkee, Señorita; a man like me is more valued, on
board a caravel, in a tossing sea, than he is like to be here,
in Barcelona, on solid ground. We went to Cipango to
set up crosses, and to make Christians; so that all hath
been in character. As for the lady Ozema, she taketh
more notice of me than of another, as I was in the battle
that rescued her from Caonabo, and so she showed me the
cross the day we anchored in the Tagus, or just before the
Then it was that she kissed the cross, and held it to her
heart, and said it was `Mercedes.' ”
“This is most strange, Sancho! Hath this princess attendants,
befitting her rank and dignity?”
“You forget, Señorita, that the Niña is but a small craft,
as her name signifieth, and there would be no room for a
large train of lords and ladies. Don Christopher and Don
Luis are honourable enough to attend on any princess; and
for the rest, the Doña Ozema must wait until our gracious
queen can command her a retinue befitting her birth. Besides,
my lady, these Haytian dames are simpler than our
Spanish nobles, half of them thinking clothes of no great
use, in that mild climate.”
Mercedes looked offended, and incredulous; but her
curiosity and interest were too active, to permit her to send
the man away without further question.
“And Don Luis de Bobadilla was ever with the admiral?”
she said, “ever ready to support him, and foremost in all
hazards?”
“Señorita, you describe the count as faithfully as if you
had been present from first to last. Had you but seen him
dealing out his blows upon Caonabo's followers, and the
manner in which he kept them all at bay, with the Doña
Ozema near him, behind the rocks, it would have drawn
tears of admiration from your own lovely eyes.”
“The Doña Ozema near him — behind rocks — and assailants
held at bay!”
“Si, Señora; you repeat it all like a book. It was much
as you say, though the Lady Ozema did not content herself
with being behind the rocks, for, when the arrows came
thickest, she rushed before the count, compelling the enemy
to withhold, lest they should slay the very prize they were
battling for; thereby saving the life of her knight.”
“Saving his life! — the life of Luis — of Don Luis de
Bobadilla — an Indian princess!”
“It is just as you say, and a most noble girl she is, asking
pardon for speaking so light of one of her high rank.
Time and again, since that day, hath the young count told
me, that the arrows came in such clouds, that his honour
might have been tarnished by a retreat, or his life been lost,
rare creature, Señorita, and you will love her as a sister,
when you come to see and know her.”
“Sancho,” said our heroine, blushing like the dawn,
“thou said'st that the Conde de Llera bade thee speak of
him to his aunt; did he mention no one else?”
“No one, Señorita.”
“Art certain, Sancho? Bethink thee well—did he mention
no other name to thee?”
“Not that I can swear. It is true, that either he, or old
Diego, the helmsman, spoke of one Clara that keepeth an
hosteria, here in Barcelona, as a place famous for its wine;
but I think it more likely to have been Diego than the
count, as one thinketh much of these matters, and the other
would not be apt to know aught of Clara.”
“Thou canst retire, Sancho,” said Mercedes, in a faint
voice. “We will say more to thee in the morning.”
Sancho was not sorry to be dismissed, and he gladly returned
to his pallet, little dreaming of the mischief he had
done by the mixture of truth and exaggeration that he had
been recounting.
| CHAPTER X. Mercedes of Castile, or, The voyage to Cathay | |