 | CHAPTER XXIII.
THE AVENGER BUSY AT A DISTANCE. The damsel of Darien |  |
23. CHAPTER XXIII.
THE AVENGER BUSY AT A DISTANCE.
The secretary of Vasco Nunez sped with all despatch
from Balsas to Acla, and from Acla to Darien. It was
fortunate for his purposes that just at this time the usual
objects of the exploring expedition required that a large
brigade of soldiers and labourers, still employed in the
transportation of materials and supplies across the mountains,
should set out on their return journey. As the
confidential secretary of the Adelantado of the South Sea,
bearing his despatches to Pedrarias, the representations
of Pedro were received without question, and his forward
progress facilitated without any scruple, by those
officials who might, upon any hint of the truth, have
readily arrested him. But the ill fortune of the conqueror
prevailed, and his enemy reached Darien in safety,
and in a space of time, for those days, and in that difficult
and perilous journey, of unusual shortness. It was then
that he came to the final resolution—a resolution which a
sense of personal pride had baffled long before—of
making others the agents of that vengeance which he
had found himself unable to execute. As soon as his
mind felt itself undivided in the pursuit of this one object,
he dismissed his former scruples. A ready sophistry
reconciled him now to agents and artifices which he had
scorned before; and his first visit in Darien was to one
whom he had sufficient reason to know was the bitter
enemy of Vasco Nunez. This was Francisco Pizarro.
The scornful smile, the sharp, contemptuous question, and
the rude, brutal demeanour of this bloody soldier, did not
now offend him.
“Señor,” said he, “I have now the means to serve you
—to meet your former desires, and please Don Pedrarias.
of treason—to show that he designs to throw off the
government of Darien, and with his brigantines pass to
the provinces bordering on the great South Sea, beyond
the jurisdiction of Pedrarias.”
“Thou art late with thy proof,” replied Pizarro. “How
know we that Pedrarias will believe these things of one
pledged to be his son-in-law? What are thy proofs of
what thou sayest? Whose testimony beside thy own canst
thou offer in support of thy charge?”
“Proof shall not be wanting,” was the answer; “and
if thy former desire hold on this subject, Señor Francisco,
thy question might have been spared. Thou mightst
easily get proof which will maintain the truth of my assurances.
But this shall not be lacking, as I tell thee;
and when I assure Don Pedrarias, moreover, that it is
scarcely the purpose of Vasco Nunez to become his son-in-law—that
he still clings to the Indian woman—”
“Couldst thou show this, perhaps?”
“It were easy. Pedrarias hath no love for Vasco Nunez.
It was in a moment of fear that this treaty of marriage
and reconciliation was patched up, and only by the
means of the Archbishop Quevedo. He is no longer here
to keep his agreement whole, and help his ally through
thick and thin. How many enemies hath Vasco Nunez
made here in Darien, all of whom rage against him. The
Bachelor Corral hates him with an unforgiving hate, which
would destroy wherever he might dare. Alonzo de la
Puente is no less his foe. Thou, thyself, hast found a
ready confidence, in what thou sayst, in Don Pedrarias;
and methinks there is a natural bias against the adelantado
in his mind, because of the rivalship and better fortunes
of Vasco Nunez, which will make it easy to persuade
him of the truth of my declaration. Nay, more, I have
papers of the adelantado, under his own hand, which will
greatly help to establish it against him.”
“Let us go to Pedrarias on the instant,” was the answer
of Pizarro. “Thou art in the right spirit for good
fortune, Pedro—see that thou shrink not from it. Speak
to Pedrarias as thou hast spoken to me, else it shall be
worse for thee now. I am not to say these things as
from thy authority, from which thou thyself shalt afterwards
wouldst not eat my dagger.”
“Thou wilt find me no less firm than thyself,” replied
the youth. “Nay, I should prove myself so even more if
in thy dagger's spite, and utterly in scorn of thy threat.
Such have I shown thee already, Señor Francisco, of a
temper which needs no word from thee to make it resolute,
whether it be in defence of a friend, or in prosecution
of just vengeance on a foe.”
“Thou shouldst have a better strength for thy dagger,
boy—better limbs and more masculine manhood for thy
tongue. Thy spirit were more becoming were it more
modest, for audacity and weakness, when they go together,
make the geese grin—thou shouldst know the
proverb. But I speak not this to anger thee,” he continued,
as he beheld the ghastly paleness on the youth's
cheek, and the dark crimson hue which succeeded it—
“since thy boldness angers not me. Be thou as resolute
before Pedrarias, to repeat what thou hast said to me,
and thou wilt find no better friend in Darien than Francisco
Pizarro. I rather like the frankness which becomes
insolent, than the timidity which grows treacherous and
strikes, like a hidden snake, with full venom at the heel.
Yet,”—a brief pause followed at this point, which seemed
sufficiently appropriate after the utterance of a sentiment
so truly at variance with the real principles of the speaker,
and one which brought something more than a smile upon
the lips of his companion—“yet, Pedro,” he continued,
“though in truth, it will nothing help this business forward,
yet would I know wherefore now thou shouldst be
the enemy of Vasco Nunez, that, but a little space ago,
was his most trusted and serviceable friend. These
changes happen not without a cause; and yet, according
to thy own showing, to the moment when thou leftst Isla
Rica thou wert still his approved secretary.”
“I have served the Señor Vasco, and served him faithfully,”
replied the youth gravely, “but I never was his
friend. From the first I have been his sworn but secret
foe. Nay, more, even when I served him—when I declined
to serve thee against him—I was sworn to slay
him. Ask me not farther of this matter, Señor Francisco.
It is enough that I am now resolved to put my oath in
execution. I have been a foolish boy—flattered with
less to the truth than to my duty. That hour is past—
the scales have fallen from my eyes, and though I wield
not the dagger with my own hand for his destruction, it
is not the less effectually my blow, when I arm with it
the hand of another more capable to strike.”
“That is true, but here is the Plaza,” said the rough
soldier, comprehending in part only the somewhat mystical
solution which his companion gave him of that moral
perversity in his course, which it required a nicer judgment
than his own readily to reconcile. “Now, Pedro,
see that thou keepest to thy story. It will not be hard,
as thou sayst, to make Pedrarias believe. He fears the
successes of Vasco Nunez, and will not be slow to hate
where he fears. I will move him to these fears by other
facts of which I have knowledge; and there is more to
alarm him in this matter touching Vasco Nunez and his
daughter, than thou dreamest of. This damsel, when she
dwelt in Española denied Vasco Nunez, in his prayer for
love; there is nothing strange, but much that is reasonable
in the thought that he means not to wed her now—
that he will fling back her hand into her father's face,
when he has once laid a clean keel on the waters of the
great South Sea. Let me but show this image to the
mind of Pedrarias, and the jealous old man grows furious.
Boy, thou shalt speed well for this.”
As Pizarro anticipated, it was any thing but difficult to
awaken in the mind of Pedrarias all his old suspicions of
Vasco Nunez, and all the hostility accordingly, which had
so persecutingly pursued him before. Many circumstances
contributed to swell the torrent of imputation
which was raised against the distant and unconscious
cavalier. A long interval had followed his last departure
from Darien, and he had failed to communicate to the
governor his projects and achievements. The very despatches
which he had prepared to send by the brigantine
which bore the secretary to Balsas, were in the possession
of the latter, and suppressed for his own purposes
from delivery. To this it may be added, that there
were in the hands of the secretary some documents which,
in their imperfect and incomplete condition, tended in
some considerable degree to confirm his misrepresentations.
It was shown clearly that Vasco Nunez had not
control, in the event of his being able to launch his
vessel upon the great sea which he had found; and though,
to the unprejudiced and unembittered mind, it would have
appeared equally clear upon inquiry, that these memoranda
had been made, and these ideas formed, at a period
preceding the late compromise between the parties, yet
the pertinacity of Pizarro, and the positive asseverations
of the secretary, completely blinded the despotic governor
to all consideration of reason or justice on this subject.
He yielded, as had been predicted, to a passion of fury,
which only suffered itself to be quieted at last by the
conviction that his enemy, as he deemed him, was beyond
his power; and believing, as he did, the representations
of the conspirators, his natural fear and inference were,
that, being now fairly in possession of the means equally
of flight and independence, Vasco Nunez would soon bid
him defiance. It was not the policy, however, of those
who sought the destruction of the latter, to suffer him to
rest in this last conviction; and Pizarro showed many
reasons for his assurance that it was the policy of the
cavalier to maintain an appearance of good faith with his
superior for some little time longer. It was at length the
conclusion of the parties that Vasco Nunez was a traitor,
and should suffer the punishment of one. But how to
get him into the power of Pedrarias was now the only
difficulty. If his designs were such as had been ascribed
to him, it was scarcely reasonable to suppose that he
would tamely yield himself to punishment—it was equally
improbable that he should not exercise a large degree of
precaution towards the man in relation to whom he meditated
so much faithlessness. He had now four brigantines,
all well manned and afloat, upon an ocean,
the whole world of which was fairly before him, where to
choose. Three hundred picked men—his own devoted
followers—“the old soldiers of Darien”—men who had
already shown their love of their commander, by the
readiness with which they had turned out at the summons
of a mere boy, for his rescue from the prison to
which Pedrarias had consigned him—these were at his
bidding, and immediately under his command. They
could not be withdrawn from him on any pretence not
calculated to provoke suspicion, and any open attempt
him, would, it was evident enough to every understanding,
arouse him to instant defiance and insurrection.
The governor was bewildered, until the more wily
secretary came to his assistance.
“It seems to me, your excellency,” he said, “that this
matter is not so difficult as you suppose. To summon
Vasco Nunez to Darien, to answer charges against him,
would be, it is true, most likely to defeat your object.
But why do this? The easier course would be to express
no suspicions—to utter no charges—but to write to him,
as before—to invite him, not to Darien, but to Acla, whither
he well knows you have already resolved to go. There
are motives enough which would justify your desire to
meet with him, if it were only to confer on the subject of
the intended expedition; and the more effectually to disarm
his suspicions, should he have them, it were not unwise
to counsel your daughter to write him, as if of her
own heart, desiring his presence also. Meanwhile, care
should be taken that such of his known friends as are
here in Darien, should be seized and silenced. Hernando
de Arguello, who hath large interest in the fortunes of
Vasco Nunez, should be at once arrested on any plea—
but kept from communication with Acla and the Balsas.
There are others, his officers, one of whom is here and
two at Acla, whom it were no less important to arrest
with all despatch. These are Valdebarrano, Hernan
Muños, and Botello. I know that these men counsel
Vasco Nunez of all the doings in his absence at Santa
Maria and Acla. This done, silently, and what more?
Nothing—but to await at Acla for the coming of the
traitor, with a force strong enough to secure him. The
Señor Francisco, I doubt not, can bring together in short
time a strong band to go forth and seize him, while he
comes unsuspectingly with the messenger whom you
despatch for him to Isla Rica.”
Such were the counsels of the secretary, and they
were such as readily commanded the entire ear of Pedrarias.
They were accordingly adopted, and measures
taken for their prompt execution. Arguello was arrested
that very night, and Gaspar Nino, a man known to be
faithful to Pedrarias, yet one who was equally well known
for his mild and just deportment, was chosen, with three
to Vasco Nunez, and to accompany him to Acla. To
this man, though the words of Pedrarias conveyed no
knowledge of his sinister determination, his manner, at
once angry and restrained, conveyed a signification of
the truth, which the arrest of Hernando de Arguello contributed
to strengthen. He said nothing, however, but
set forth without scruple in the performance of his duty;
leaving the conspirators in anxious expectation of the
results of a scheme, of the success of which, forming
their inferences rather with regard to their own evil objects
than to any just appreciation of the character of
their noble victim, they had as many doubts as expectations.
These doubts were stronger in the mind of the
governor, than in those of his counsellors and agents.
They were more sanguine, from a better knowledge of
the frank, confiding simplicity of Vasco Nunez, of the
success of the expedition; and Pizarro, exulting in his
hopes, was in no wise sparing of the applauses which he
now bestowed upon his heretofore despised coadjutor by
whom the plan had been devised.
“That was a shrewd notion of thine, Pedro,” he said,
“to get the letter from Teresa Davila, for of a certainty
Vasco Nunez loves that woman; though she hath, if I
may believe the eyes of woman, but little thought of him.
That letter will bring him, be sure, even were all other
artifices to fail. He will put his head into her lap, and
she will call the enemy, even as the worthy Jeronomite
father tells us was the case with the strong man of old
made captive by the heathen Philistines. It were now
worthy question, if Pedrarias declared the truth to his
daughter ere she wrote the letter.”
The curiosity expressed by Pizarro was echoed by the
secretary, and remembered by the latter long after the
former had forgotten the sentiment. The question was
one which, considering the past tenor of our narrative,
may possibly arise in the minds of our readers also; and
it may not be ill advised briefly to detail the particulars
of the interview between Pedrarias and his daughter
when the former sought her with this object. He suppressed
all the knowledge which he had obtained by the
secretary, except the simple fact of his arrival; and this
circumstance alone, as the latter had brought with him
none to her, was, of itself, enough to occasion
some suspicion or surmise in her mind, that all things
were not as they should be. Still she smoothed her features
into that simplicity of expression which innocent
confidence ever wears, and cunning sometimes imitates
so well, and listened calmly to the language of her father,
whose success in a like effort to be calm was scarcely so
successful. But Teresa saw not, or affected not to see,
the half-stifled disquiet struggling in his features and
rising even in the tones of his voice.
“Teresa, my love, despatches will leave Darien by to-morrow's
dawn for the Balsas on the Southern Sea—it
should give thee pleasure to send greeting to the Señor
Vasco. I would have thee write him a letter filled with
thy fondest follies. He is a brave, noble gentleman, yet
he seems to love these things—be no wise sparing of
them—thou mayst safely requite him; for, of a truth, I
think he loves thee very much.”
“Yea, my father, so, truly, would it seem. His love
hath taken from him all power of speech—all expression!
There hath come—if the tale be rightly told—there hath
come his secretary, directly from the Señor Vasco, yet
he brings me no word, no speech, no token. Even were
it a matter of so great speed that time were not suffered
for a letter, yet, methinks, there are pearls of that
Southern Sea not unseemly as a token from its adelantado
for the damsel to whom he hath pledged hand and heart,
and for whom his love is held to be so excessive. When
he hath shown more heed of Teresa Davila, he shall have
like heed from her. It were scarce seemly that I should
pen missives to one who hath shown no such remembrance
of me.”
“Pshaw, Teresa, would thy father demand of thee any
thing unseemly? There is nothing in this, believe thee—
nothing to make thee doubtful of the regard of the Señor
Vasco. He hath had great trouble in launching his
brigantines—there were matters calling for his eye and
hand, so that time has not been left him for these passing
tokens. But he did not forget thee—there were words to
which, truth, I paid little heed, which the secretary poured
into mine ears, and which were solely meant for thine—
and now, I remember me, they were words of such customary
very watchful ear. He hath not forgotten thee, Teresa,
be sure.”
“The secretary shall take like words of tenderness
back,” replied the maiden quietly; “thou shalt tell him
as from me, my father, what in thy own wisdom would
be seemly for a damsel to say to her betrothed.—
Thou—”
“Demonios! I will do no such thing. I tell thee, it is my
wish, Teresa, that thou shouldst write!” exclaimed the
other impatiently. “It is of use—it hath an object beyond
what thou seest in thy girlish simplicity. Thou
shalt write to the Señor Vasco—thou shalt speak to him
in that idle language in which girl feelings overcome the
better and properer sense, and tell him of thy love and of
thy lack, and of the joy which his presence should bring
thee. Nay, more, thou shalt implore his presence at
Darien, as of a wish in thy own heart, which, I trust me,
he will be scarce able to withstand. Dost thou hear me,
Teresa—dost thou hearken to my words?”
“Truly, my father, these are strange requirements.
What is thy meaning—what wouldst thou have of me—
what of the Señor Vasco?”
“Of thee, obedience—of him—But why do I prate?
Do thus, Teresa, and let it suffice thee, that all things—
thy father's government—his fortune—nay, perhaps his
life—all rest on the presence of Vasco Nunez here in
Darien. Seek not to inquire farther. Is not this
enough?”
“Enough?—Ay! But still, wherefore, my father,
wherefore, if the presence of the Señor Vasco be so
needful in Darien, dost thou not send thy own despatches?”
“Would he obey them—would he come?” demanded
the other precipitately; then, conscious of having intimated
a doubt which he would rather have suppressed,
he continued, though confusedly, in an awkward endeavour
to qualify or explain his hasty utterance—“Launched
on that strange sea, and, perchance, on the eve of new
discoveries, it may be, Teresa, he would not so much regard
my wishes—but thine—thine! Teresa, write me
as I would have thee. I tell thee again, it is a matter of
great need, and life—thy father's life—is, perchance, a
matter.”
The daughter keenly eyed the old man's countenance
as he spoke, and read there that language which he had
been vainly striving to hide. His anxiety on the subject,
and the utter absence of any good reason why he should
not summon Vasco Nunez himself, if he desired his presence
at Darien, and if he meditated nothing hostile
against him, or had no suspicions of his fidelity—furnished
strong conjectures to her mind, which led her very
nearly to the truth. Had she really loved Vasco Nunez, she
would have obeyed without reflection, since to have the
loved one near her, would have led her instantly to that
obedience to a father's commands, in the recognition of
which the desires of her own heart were so immediately
consulted. Without such a feeling she was enabled
to analyse his, and calmly to reflect upon what he said;
and her conviction, the result of her prompt examination
of the matter, apprised her of the truth as clearly as if her
father had confided to her his true motives for the urgent
wish which he declared. Her deliberative silence, while
she thought of these topics, and the growing intelligence
which appeared in her countenance, at length compelled
his deliberation also; and a moment's calm survey of her
features, the first, probably, which he had made during
their conference, almost led him to the belief that his
secret was discovered, or, at least, strongly conjectured.
This presented to his jealous mind a new subject of alarm.
Thinking it not improbable, in spite of her refusal of
Vasco Nunez, that she might now have some attachment
for him, as, indeed, nothing would have seemed more
natural than that she should entertain some such feeling
for one, who was at that period the admiration of
a whole world, he began to fear that she might not only
refuse to second his wishes, but apprise his enemy of the
danger that threatened him at Darien. His keen, earnest,
and anxious glance, when she perceived it, startled and
offended her; and a deep crimson suffusion of her cheeks
attested the presence in her mind of another consciousness
which the governor could not so well appreciate. If
she believed the designs of Pedrarias to be hostile to
Vasco Nunez, she was absolutely conniving against her
betrothed to hearken to the application of her father; and
destined victim, made her feel her present conduct, if she
was convinced of his danger, criminal in the last degree.
On this head she had no scruples so long as she preserved
her secret; but to suffer her father to believe that she
conjectured his designs, was to compel her to declare
against his application. Her momentary fear that he had
made this discovery, produced the accusing blush which
mantled her cheeks for an instant. A happy thought
accounted for the suffusion and her scruples at the same
instant.
“My father, you ask too much from your daughter.
Must I seek the Señor Vasco, who surely hath been little
heedful of my claims? Shall I write to him in the language
of my heart, when he hath been so chary of the
expressions of his own? It is a hard duty, and my cheek
may well burn me and glow like fire while my thought
dwells upon it. But thou hast said—thy will shall move
me to this, when it would better please my own to say
nothing to one who, perchance, at this very moment, has
no thought of me. But ere I write, I must see and speak
with this messenger. I would hear from him the language
of the Señor Vasco, that I may be the better able
to shape my own in reply.”
“Thou shalt—yes, thou shalt see him—though, truth
to speak, it is but a little matter that he will tell thee.
But let not his tidings move thee to speak coldly to the
Señor Vasco. Let thy words clip and cling to him,
Teresa—be warm—be fond—I will not chide thee, my
child, though thou breathest a fondness which would pour
fire into the cold veins of a Jeronymite, so that thou
bringest him to thy feet—so that thou bringest him to
meet us in Acla.”
There was yet another suffusion on the cheeks of the
maiden.
“It is thy danger, my father—the danger to thy life
only, my father, which should move me to such unseeming
fondness as that thou speakest of.”
“Wouldst thou have better reason? I tell thee, Teresa,
as the holy friars would tell thee, that holding ever the
good end in view, even the employment of the evil agent
becomes a hallowed necessity before God.”
| CHAPTER XXIII.
THE AVENGER BUSY AT A DISTANCE. The damsel of Darien | |