 | CHAPTER I.
SCENE IN THE BANQUET-CHAMBER. The quadroone, or, St. Michael's day |  |
1. CHAPTER I.
SCENE IN THE BANQUET-CHAMBER.
The ease and affability of the Count of Osma soon
thawed the ice of ceremony and suspicion with which
the councillors at first received the honour that had
been so graciously extended towards them; and even
the president, as the banquet proceeded, began to think
his suspicions hasty and ill-grounded. All doubts,
however, of honourable purpose of the governor were
not effectually banished; and occasionally they flashed
back upon his mind with redoubled force, as some
sinister word or look would betray itself through his
guarded language or manner. That the Spaniard was
playing a double part, he was well satisfied; and,
though his address and bearing invited confidence, he
felt that, in yielding it, he was playing with an adder in
his bosom.
“So, gentlemen,” said the count, setting down a cup
of wine, and speaking as if pursuing easy conversation
with his guests, “I learn your fair city has been sadly
torn by seditions of late, and that the young Marquis
of Caronde, an arrant scapegrace, hath laid claim to
the government?”
“He did make the attempt, your excellency,” answered
one of the councillors, on whose face the
count's eye chanced to rest as he spoke; “but, his
also expired at his father's demise—”
“You saw fit,” interrupted the count, laughing sarcastically,
“to create seven uncommissioned rulers
instead! Methinks this were aggravating the evil.
What say you, Signor President?” he asked, with a
careless air.
“Now, by my mine honour, I like not that count's
manner well,” whispered Renault.
“Hush, and give heed,” answered Estelle, quickly.
“That, on the death of the royal governor, the power
became vested in the people till resumed by his
majesty, who might then delegate it to whom he saw
fit,” answered the president, firmly.
“And so, until this event, the people made choice of
a tribunal to manage the state affairs, composed of
seven citizens, which body I have now the honour to
entertain at my humble table?” he observed, affirmatively
rather than interrogatively.
“We did yesterday morning composed such a tribunal,
your excellency,” he replied, with dignity, “but
we are now private citizens.”
“So I learn,” said the count, dryly. “It has been
so told to me, as well as your reason for dissolving
your council.”
The president evidently did not like the tone in
which this was said, but, without giving utterance to
his feelings, replied, in an even voice,
“We are no longer in authority, Sir Count, 'tis
true.”
“The people took it back to give it to Spain. Was
it not so?”
“'Tis true they forgot their country for love of their
own interests.”
“And thus were basely ungrateful to thee, methinks.
I will, out of my gratitude to thee, Signor President,
repay it to them. Thou wilt gladly see them requited,
I doubt not.”
“On the contrary, signor, we hold the welfare of
our fellow-citizens to heart, and would fain now urge
their laws with the change of government,” responded
the president, who, with characteristic patriotism,
took the first opportunity of securing the welfare
of his fellow-citizens.
“And give them to retain their judges also,” asswered
the count, sarcastically. “We had best restore
your power, signor, and go back to Spain, even
as you sent us back three years ago.”
“Ha! he forgets not that day!” said Renault, involuntarily.
“Nay, signor,” continued the president, who saw
that the memory of the past had flushed the cheek and
kindled the eye of the Spaniard, “I ask not this.
Conquered countries are allowed to retain their own
laws for a few years, that the transition may be gradual
and healthy to all parties. This is not a conquered
province, thank Heaven! but yet you would change
our laws and the language of the courts in one day.
It would be greatly for the advantage and tranquillity
of the inhabitants, if justice were to be administered
for a while longer according to the laws, forms, and
usages of the land. It is oppression, your excellency,
in the highest degree, to require that a community
should at once submit to a total change in the laws
that have hitherto governed it, and be compelled to
regulate its conduct by rules of which it is totally ignorant.
No necessity demands it, and no policy justifies
it. The friendship hitherto existing between Louis
XV. and the King of Spain should have been a
weighty influence with the latter to secure this privilege
to the other's subjects. Louis expected it, or he
would never have condemned us to such a destiny.”
“By the rood, signor, you are bold,” answered the
count, who had listened with surprise to the plain and
fearless language of the president, who even now
seemed to be ready to risk his life for the people he
had governed, although they had so basely revolted
from their allegiance to bow the neck to the Spanish
yoke.
“I am bold because humanity is so, your excellency,”
he answered, steadily, and without quailing beneath
the stern eyes that surveyed his face.
“This is the temper of spirit I have had to contend
with all along in getting foothold in this province!
this is the temper that has twice bathed your city's
square with the blood of Spanish men! To you, gentlemen,
I owe a debt you shall not long stand creditor
for.”
“The storm is bursting,” said Estelle.
“I am ready,” said Renault, laying his hand upon
the door.
“Not yet,” she said, restraining him; “and remember
thy oath!”
“That we have disputed the possession of Spain, I
admit; that we would have disputed it, if we had
the power, to this moment, I confess,” answered the
president, with spirit. “You are displeased, sir!
But these very efforts to preserve our natal soil from
the rule of a foreign prince originated in our attachment
to our own; and you ought to behold in our
conduct a pledge of our future devotion to Spain, if
hereafter we should personally yield to her our allegiance.”
“Santiago me! I have not been misled in my
knowledge of your character. You have taken a superior
part yourself, signor, in the revolt since the first
claim of Spain, both as a citizen and now as a ruler;
and it is mainly through your influence in encouraging
the leaders, instead of using your best endeavours to
keep the people in the fidelity and subordination they
owed to their sovereign, that Spain has so long been
kept from her just rights, and the whole province in a
state of sedition,” he answered, warmly. “It is therefore,”
he added, rising, and speaking with stern displeasure,
and his eyes kindling with vengeance, “and
it is therefore that your laws are changed and your
tribunals abolished! It is therefore that I would place
my foot upon the neck of your people. It is therefore
that I have called you hither this evening, that
it is to excite revolt against Spain, and insult Ramarez
of Osma! Ho, secure the traitors!” he cried, in a
loud and fierce tone to the slaves, who had, hitherto,
stood like statues behind the seat of the councillors.
“Now is the time, in Heaven's name! But spare
my father!” cried Estelle.
Before Renault could throw open the door, the hand
of an Ethiopian slave was upon the throat of each
guest, save that of the president, and a gleaming dagger
was suspended in the air above their breasts.
“Seize the assassins!” cried Renault, behind the
Spaniard's chair, in a voice not less stern than his own.
Before the count could turn his head, he saw that
the banquet-room was filled with armed men, who instantly
seized and disarmed his slaves, and then fixed
upon himself looks of deadly resentment, as if only
awaiting their leader's nod to bury the swords they
pressed against the naked bosoms of the blacks into
their hearts, and then sheathe them in his own. Among
them he beheld a noble-looking youth, whose bearing
and dress bespoke him to be their captain, in whose
indignant countenance, as he stood before him, fixing
upon him his clear, flashing eyes, which it seemed he
would never take off, he thought he read his own fate.
He sat glaring upon him in silence, paralyzed between
surprise, fear, and disappointed vengeance.
From the lattice Estelle had witnessed the whole
scene! the grateful but astonished councillors looking
upon their deliverer as if he had dropped from the
skies; the haughty and indignant bearing of Renault;
the cringing and terrified slaves; her wonder-stricken
and confused father, as he gazed about him, and shrunk
beneath the stern glance of the youth! All this she
witnessed with mixed feelings of gratitude, joy, and
shame; and deep indeed was the crimson that dyed
her cheek when she heard her father thus addressed:
“Sir Spaniard,” said Renault, sternly, after gazing
upon him as if he would convey through his eyes the
bitterness of his resentment against the author of the
Spaniard, under Heaven thou art indebted to other causes
than thine own mercy for not shedding the blood
of seven innocent men with the dagger of the assassin!
It is not enough that thou hast abolished our
sacred tribunals and overturned our laws, but thou
must bathe thy hands in the blood of the judges of the
land. If guilty of offences against the state, why were
they not arraigned before thee and tried by their
peers, according to the sacred laws of all Christendom?
Their holy patriotism is guilt in thine eyes.
Yet it is not for this thou wouldst do sevenfold murder!
Personal wrongs rankle in thy unforgiving bosom,
and thou wouldst make these a sacrifice to thy
wounded self-love! Thou wert driven hence in dire
disgrace three years ago, and, now that the power is
in thine hands, thou wouldst have avenged thyself upon
the whole province by the slaughter of its rulers!
And how wouldst thou have done it? Under the sacred
guise of heaven-born hospitality; with thy wine-cups
in their hands, and thy wine warming their hearts
—and thine own too, were it flesh and not stone! And
well hast thou chosen the hour and the place! the
noise of revelry drowning that of murder, and thy
carefully-barred doors shutting out human aid, even
if the shrieks of thy victims should silence yonder
revels!”
“Who art thou, and wherefore dost thou beard me
in mine own halls?” haughtily demanded the count,
who had by this time recovered from his first surprise
at the mysterious presence of these deliverers of the
councillors at the very moment when their lives were
staked; “who art thou, that dost use language so daring
to a chief in the midst of his own army—to a
governor in his own palace?”
“I am the defender of the innocent against a tyrant,”
answered Renault. “Lay not thy hand upon thy
weapon, Sir Knight! it will little avail thee; besides,
we intend no harm to thy person; not for love of thee,
mark! but we have made oath to a stranger who led
Let these venerable councillors retire, and we will
leave thee to the fit society of these trembling slaves,
whom thou wouldst have made the instruments of thy
private vengeance. They are but tools, and also shall
escape—though, by'r lady! you all deserve a common
death. See that the slaves retain no weapons, and let
them go,” he added, to his men.
Dismissed from the grasp of their captors, the cringing
slaves crowded together at the extremity of the
chamber, as if yet expecting death; while Sulem, who,
from the first, had thrown himself upon his face at his
master's feet, rose up at Renault's bidding, and presented
his colossal proportions to the wondering gaze
of his band. In his right hand he held a cimeter;
but the hand trembled, and the hideous face of the
Ethiopian betrayed mortal fear. True to deal an assassin's
secret blow at his master's bidding, the slave
was false when open danger menaced, and now betrayed
the cowardice of his sanguinary nature.
“Sulem! cleave him to the floor; why is thy cimeter
idle?” cried Osma, roused to fury by the cool and
resolute bearing of the young chief.
“Martin,” said Renault, “take this Goliath's cimeter
from him. He seems to have lost loyalty to his master
in his adverse fortunes.”
Without a word, Sulem surrendered his weapon;
and the impression made on Renault's mind by his
submissive manner was, that there needed but a word
from himself to cause him to plunge it into the breast
he should have protected with it.
“Broken, indeed, proves the reed my poor father
leaned upon; but he hath taught Sulem treachery, and
what but treachery could he have expected from him?”
said Estelle, mentally, on seeing this.
Yet it will be seen that Sulem's subtlety and habits
of obedience overmastered his fears; and, from his
subsequent conduct, it will be questionable if cowardice
had as much to do with his actions as cunning.
“Thou seest, Count of Osma, that thy trustiest arm
its aid! We are content to have saved these gentlemen,
whom thou wouldst have slain at thine own board,
mingling their blood with thy wine. Hath God sent
the land a demon to rule over it, that the thought of
such a crime as thou hast meditated should enter the
heart of man?”
While he was speaking, the count caught the eye
of Sulem; met it with a stern reproof, and then
glanced significantly to his own hand. Sulem understood
him; and, in reply, touched, as if carelessly, with
his forefinger, the count's signet, given to him in the
hall of audience for another purpose. Then, watching
his opportunity, at a single bound he leaped through
the door, beside which, at the lattice, was stationed the
disguised Estelle; and, before he could be arrested,
had flown past her, and was far beyond pursuit at the
extremity of the passage.
“Hold! pursue him not,” cried Renault to his men.
“Your presence is needed here! Gentlemen, I pray
you retire while you can do it safely,” he added, addressing
the councillors; “there may be nothing more
in this sudden escape than the cowardice of a traitorous
servant. But, lest mischief could come out of it,
I beseech you let me see you presently in safety. I
lived long in this place, as you all are aware, when my
father governed, and chanced to know that there is a
concealed door behind yonder arras, which, by a private
stairway, conducts you to the outer court of the
prisons, and thence into the street. It is not safe for
you to pass out through the palace guards as you entered.
Follow me, gentlemen.”
Thus speaking, Renault crossed the chamber, drew
aside the arras, and exposed a low door, which, by
touching a spring, he opened. Within was a dark
stairway, faintly lighted at the bottom by the moonlight
entering from the outer door beneath.
“Gentlemen, this will conduct you to the street;
thence your way is plain to your homes. I would despatch
half of my men with you as a guard, but their
your safety. My venerable father!” he said to the
president, who was expressing his gratitude for his aid
in saving his life, “you owe it not to me, but to a gallant
stranger, who has not appeared on the scene to
receive the thanks that are his due. Farewell! Mount
your horses, each of you, gentlemen, and leave the
city within the hour for the fortress, where there are
brave men to receive you! The countersign of the
east gate, and which I learned from this brave stranger,
is `Osma's justice,' which liked to have been illustrated
but for our timely presence.”
“Ha! knowest thou it?” exclaimed Osma, with
surprise.
“Mount and ride; this poor town is no longer a
place for true men. Say to Charleval,” then added
Renault, in a lower tone, “I will be with him at evening
to-morrow, when I shall not return to the city till we
ride into it as conquerors and avengers. Go, with
Heaven's blessing, gentlemen!” he added, embracing
each as they passed through the door and descended
the staircase.
“Now, Signor Count Osma,” said Renault, after
they had departed, “inasmuch as I have stepped between
thee and thy bloody vengeance, and the victims of thy
vindictiveness are beyond thy reach, I will leave thee
to the residue of thy feast; and, by'r lady! in absence
of the gentlemen thou didst make this supper for, intending
it should be their last, thou shalt fain have
guests better fitting thee. So, slaves, seat yourselves
at the board! it is beseeming that slaves should be a
tyrant's guests, and it becomes a tyrant to feast only
with such. Down with ye, slaves!” cried Renault,
between irony and stern indignation.
The trembling slaves obeyed, and the table was once
more surrounded with guests. But what guests indeed!
Osma heard the command with surprise, and
saw it obeyed with a terrific ferocity of aspect. Thrice
he looked from the table to the young chief, and thrice
from the young chief to the table, alternately, as if
the insult. The deadliest vengeance flashed from his
eyes. His lips grew livid, and his brow became black
as night. Renault watched these tokens of a tempest
within him with a smile upon his lip, which was only
wanting to inspire the count with fury. Like an enraged
tiger; disdaining his sword, he sprung upon Renault,
and fixed his hands upon his throat and breast
with the grasp of demoniac vengeance. Quicker than
lightning, the young quadroon grappled with him in the
same manner, and, face to face—the one with eyes literally
blazing with rage, the other with a cool and
steady gaze—they confronted each other with deadly
purpose. Several of the courreurs du bois sprung forward
to Renault's relief, but he restrained them with a
look.
“Unhand me, Sir Count!” at length cried Renault,
who grew flushed in the face with the pressure upon
his throat, “or I shall do thee mortal injury.”
“Never!” said the count, with a malignant smile of
desperate revenge.
“I have sworn not to harm thee,” he continued,
speaking with difficulty.
“Ha! ha!” laughed the Spaniard, with hellish sounds,
as he pressed still harder upon his windpipe, and, with
his other hand upon his breast, seemed to clinch into
the flesh, as if seeking to tear through to his heart.
“Thy blood be upon thine own head, then!” gasped
Renault.
“Spare—oh spare my father!” shrieked a female
voice behind them at this menace.
But, ere he heard, Renault had released his hold upon
the count's throat, drawn a dagger from his belt, and,
holding it above his breast, threatened him with instant
death. At the same time with the shriek, his uplifted
hand was arrested by a woman's bright arm passing
before his eyes. The hold it fastened upon his wrist
was slight, and he could easily have thrown it off; but
there is an indescribable power in a woman's voice or
intervening arm that instantly stays the fiercest spirit
hand remained immoveable where it had been arrested
by the light grasp laid upon it! With the most wondering
astonishment, he beheld before him a beautiful
girl, habited in the very cloak his guide had worn—
the hat itself cast at her feet—her superb head without
a covering—and her bright, auburn hair bound with
a coronet of pearls and precious stones. Her large
blue eyes were turned upon him imploringly, while
with the other hand she released the relaxing gripe of
the surprised count from his throat. He gazed upon
her with wonder and adoring admiration. The cloak—
the flapping sombrero—the youthful cheek he had seen
beneath it—could it be? it was none other, he was
convinced, than his late guide! The count was her
father, then! Hence this singular regard for him, mingled
with desire to save the councillors. He saw that
the noble daughter had risked all to become the saviour
of a father's honour, and save the lives of innocent
men! He read the whole at a glance. He now remembered
the soft hand he had pressed, and the tremulous
voice that at times fell on his ear. He remembered
the language he had interchanged with her upon
love and womanly devotion. His guide was, then, a
beautiful woman! As he gazed upon her, the dagger
dropped from his hand, and, with eyes full of adoration,
he cast himself on one knee before her, and said, with
a depth of feeling that surprised himself,
“Gentle maiden, forgive me the act! it was a menace
only to save my own life. But, had I known thou wert
his daughter, I would have lot him slain me before I
could have lifted my hand against him. Pardon me,
I pray thee!”
“I have nothing to pardon, brave youth; thy life was
endangered, and it was done in thy defence. But thou
didst wantonly draw my father's ire upon thee by seating
his slaves at his board!” she said, with something
like displeasure.
“I confess my fault,” he said, with a mantling brow;
“but—”
“Nay, thou hast no need to excuse thyself! Thou
hast acted with more moderation than I hoped for. Bid
those slaves leave the board, and receive my thanks
for thy courage and confidence.”
She slightly blushed as she spoke; and, turning from
the handsome eyes of Renault, which were fixed admiringly
upon her beauty, she cast herself affectionately
upon the breast of her parent, who sternly continued
to survey her and the disguise she partly retained
in silence, and by his looks seemed to understand
its object.
“Away, traitress!” he cried, casting her from him.
“My dear father—”
“Thou hast betrayed me—begone!”
“Nay,” she cried, clinging to him, “I have loved
thee too well to betray thee! I knew thou didst contemplate
a deed that would tarnish thy name, and
wound thy knightly honour—”
“And so, to conceal the guilt, hast led hither an armed
band to blazon it to the world. Out! thou art a
poor pleader!”
“Nay, it was to save the world from being startled
at a deed for which men have no name,” she said,
with great boldness. “Thou couldst ne'er have concealed
the crime! if indeed from earth, never from
Heaven!”
“Silence! thou hast done worthy of death thyself!”
he said, fiercely.
“I am ready to atone, then, with my life. Heaven
is my witness, I sought only thy honour, my father!”
“Cast off this cloak, and retire to thy chamber.”
“Wilt thou not embrace me?”
“Away! I cannot abide thee!” he said, waving
his hand commandingly.
Dropping from her graceful shoulders the roquelaure,
displaying by the act a form of the divinest symmetry,
with a pale and drooping cheek she slowly retired
from the banquet-chamber. Renault's eyes followed
her until she disappeared, and he then felt that
she had carried away his heart.
“But what have I, an accursed quadroon—I, to do
with a maiden's love like her? Like the worshippers
of the sun, I may adore her afar off till blinded by my
devotion, and my heart is burned up by her unapproachable
brightness. Alas! for what do I live?
wherefore do I court life? From this hour death is
most welcome! Why did Heaven give me a heart to
love, and then link me with a race to whom love is
forbidden? Beautiful maiden! I will not insult thee
by thinking of thee; yet not to think of thee were
not to exist.” Thus thought Renault as he turned
from the door through which she had retired from his
ardent gaze.
“So, young sir, thou art indebted to yonder foolish
girl for thy presence here to-night? By the rood!
thou didst happen in at a happy time; and not to make
thee welcome were discourtesy to my hospitality,” said
the count, in a sarcastic tone.
Renault cast aside his gloomy reflections, and looked
into the speaker's face with surprise at the words he
spoke; but a glance at his ironical lip, and hard, quiet
eye, told him how dangerous was the man with whom
he had to do.
“We thank thee, Count of Osma, for thy words,”
he replied, assuming the same subtle tone; “but, having
witnessed the display of thy hospitality once this
evening, will be so uncourteous as to decline troubling
thee for farther exhibitions of it.”
At this moment the bolts and bars were suddenly
removed by some persons outside the door leading
into the hall. Osma's eyes lighted up with pleasure
as he replied,
“Thou shalt not depart till thou hast tasted it, nevertheless.”
The doors were thrown wide as he spoke, and
Sulem the Moor, with a score of men-at-arms, rushed
into the chamber.
“Sulem, thou hast redeemed thy cowardice,” said
the count to him; and then shouted aloud, “Seize and
disarm these traitorous rebels, who would-beard their
resist, cut them down!”
Renault was not taken unawares; the noise of the
moving bolts and the elated voice of the Spaniard
prepared him for a hostile surprise. He gave a single
command, and his brave courreurs du bois formed themselves,
with drawn swords and pistols levelled, on the
opposite side of the table; and, when the door was
thrown open, they were ready to meet and resist the
expected assailants. While the last word of command
was yet on the count's lip, Renault wound a
startling peal on his bugle, and, in answer, had the
satisfaction to behold through the door green plumes
waving beyond and above the helmets of the men-at-arms,
and near the door to hear another bugle reply.
“Stay, Count of Osma,” he said, with a smile, “and,
ere you seek to enforce your command, tell me the
meaning of yonder cluster of green plumes!”
Osma looked into the hall, and saw with dismay that
his men-at-arms were closed upon from the rear by a
band in the same uniform with those within the banquet-chamber.
“Hold, men-at-arms!” he cried, on seeing this superior
force; “treachery and rebellion hath the better
of it this night. Let these retire, if they will, unmolested.”
“Thou hast done well, Sir Spaniard,” said Renault,
haughtily, “and hast avoided a second scene such as
I believe thou wert a party to three years ago!” The
count replied with a look of deadly hostility, and, as
Renault led his band from the chamber, he scornfully
asked.
“Pray what do men name thee, good youth, that I
may know to whom I am indebted for this visit to my
banquet-room?”
“My name is Renault the Quadroon.”
“Ha!” he exclaimed, with unfeigned surprise, and
then added, with a peculiar smile, that had, he knew
not why, a most extraordinary effect upon Renault, “I
have lately heard of thee. Go, and I will remember
thee and thine!”
Renault had, with his men, passed through Osma's
minions, and joined the rest of the band without, before
the last words of the Spaniard, which rung forebodingly,
flashed in their full meaning upon his ear.
“On thee and thine!” he repeated, with alarm.
“Azèlie! Hath he seen her? Martin,” he cried to
his lieutenant, “when we gain the Place d'Armes, ride
with the band to the rendezvous, and remain till I join
you. Something evil will come of this night's work,
I fear me!”
In a compact body the band of courreurs du bois
marched down through the hall, which had been nearly
deserted by the alarmed citizens on the approach of
the men-at-arms, and, gaining the square, mounted
their horses and galloped to their rendezvous; while
Renault, on the wings of apprehension and mistrust,
rode to his own abode, which he had not entered since
his departure a little after midnight of the night before.
| CHAPTER I.
SCENE IN THE BANQUET-CHAMBER. The quadroone, or, St. Michael's day | |