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Ronald Morton, or the Fire Ships, a novel by William H. G. Kingston |
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Chapter 11. Father Mendez In Spain... |
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_ CHAPTER ELEVEN. FATHER MENDEZ IN SPAIN--THE MARQUIS AND HIS OLD SHIPMATES--CAPTAIN TACON THE EX-PIRATE Father Mendez, on reaching Lerwick, found a vessel about to sail for Leith. He might probably have taken a courteous farewell of the inhabitants of Lunnasting, had he not wished to steal a march on Pedro Alvarez. He had discovered that the worthy lieutenant suspected his designs, and would, if he had the power, counteract them; he therefore resolved to deprive him, forthwith, of that power. The Inquisition, that admirable institution for the destruction of heresy, existed in full force in those days in Spain, and the father well knew that if he could induce its officials to lay hands on his rival that he would give him no further trouble. The father reached Leith in safety, and thence was able to proceed on, without loss of time, direct to Cadiz. Not far off from that fair city was the magnificent mansion of the Marquis de Medea. The father, on landing, did not at once hasten to visit his relations and friends, to receive their congratulations on his escape; nor did he even go to pay his respects to the superior of his order, but, without a moment's loss of time, he hurried off to the residence of the marquis. He introduced himself without much ceremony. The marquis could not at first believe the unwelcome news he brought. "I have no object in deceiving you, most noble marquis," answered the priest, with a calm, unruffled brow. "I have ample proofs of the truth of my statements, and should I bring them forward you could no longer keep possession of this beautiful mansion, of yonder fertile fields, of the time-honoured title you hold. But do not be alarmed; far be it from me to wish to dispossess you; the real heir is the son of a heretic woman, and will be brought up as a heretic; and I feel that I shall but be supporting the cause of our Holy Mother Church by saying nothing about this matter, and by maintaining you in possession of your property; you, who will, I doubt not, prove yourself one of her most devoted and zealous sons." The marquis was a person with a narrow forehead, small grey eyes, and that peculiar expression of countenance which the vice of indulged avarice seems generally to produce. Though his lips denoted sensuality, their total want of firmness showed the astute Father Mendez that he would be easily moulded to his will. The marquis was perfectly well aware of the way in which the church was at times apt to bleed those whom she designated her most devoted sons, and he winced at the thoughts of having to part with the large portion of his newly-acquired wealth which would be required. "I know not what you mean, father," he answered. "I have always been a devoted son of Holy Mother Church, and shall ever be ready to pay those dues which she can rightly demand." The priest fixed his eyes sternly on him. "It will be as well, Don Anibal, that we come to a right understanding on the matter," he remarked, in a low firm tone. "Remember, I have the power of depriving you of every silver piece of the wealth you enjoy; of stripping you of your title and estates, and reducing you to the state of poverty from which you have sprung; that is what I have the power of doing. The heir--the real owner of this superb mansion, of these broad lands--is a fine healthy child; a word from me would bring him over, and put him, or his proper guardians, in possession of them. Now, if I refrain from doing this, I am in duty bound to demand a sufficient recompense, not for myself--far be it from me to claim any earthly reward, for my labours are for the benefit of our Holy Mother Church, whose devoted servant I am. Here you will see I know the exact value of your property, and its rental. This paper contains my terms: if you agree to them, well and good--if not, you know the consequences. I leave you for half an hour to consider over the matter, while I go and pay my respects to the marchioness; she is a wise woman and a faithful daughter of the church. I doubt not how she will decide." Now Father Mendez was excessively clever and acute, but Don Anibal Villavicencio's cunning had been sharpened in the school of adversity. He looked up with an innocent expression of countenance, and asked-- "How do I know that the child you speak of is in existence? Pardon me for putting so rude a question, father. Where is he to be found? Give me particulars which will enable me to judge whether I am making a fair bargain with you." The father smiled at Don Anibal's frankness; he was in no way offended at the doubt cast on his veracity; he liked people to be open with him; it gave him, he thought, more power over them. He knew that the marquis could have no interest in bringing the child from Shetland, and as that island was a long way off, he was not likely to set off there to verify the accounts he might give. He might, therefore, have told him any story he pleased. In this instance, however, as it answered his purpose to speak the truth, seeing that the truth would have more influence with Don Anibal than any tale he could invent, he told him all that had occurred, and gave him a full description of Lunnasting, and its position. The marquis had learnt to conceal his thoughts as well as the priest; he assumed a dull and indifferent air as Father Mendez continued his account. "I see the justice of your remark, father, and rest assured that I will do my duty," he answered, with a twirl of his moustache and a stiff bow of the head. "The child is heir, you tell me, to a good property in this far-off island of Shetland, of which till now I never heard; he may well be content with that; indeed it is clear that he would be out of his element as the possessor of an estate like this; besides, as you wisely remark, he will be brought up as an heretic. Yes, father, my conscience is at rest; I feel that I am doing what must be well-pleasing to the church, and you assuredly shall receive the reward you demand." "His conscience!--I wonder of what that is composed," muttered the priest, and then added aloud, "You have not yet decided with regard to the paper I put into your hands, Don Anibal." "Well, do as you propose," answered the marquis. "I hope that you have not been too hard on me, though." The priest gave a searching glance at the marquis, and without speaking, left the room. Don Anibal's countenance did not wear a particularly pleasant expression as his eyes followed the priest. "I'll be even with you," he muttered, as he ground his teeth and shook his clenched fist towards the door at which the priest had retired. "What! Does he think I am fool enough to pay him the enormous sum he demands? He has given me the key to the means of settling the matter in a cheaper way than that. I must, however, in the meantime, keep my plans secret as the grave, or he will manage to counteract them." At the end of the time Father Mendez had fixed, he returned, and was highly pleased with the ready acquiescence with which the marquis agreed to his proposals. He then, with a conscience at rest, hastened on to his convent to report his arrival, and to give an account of his proceedings. The marquis waited till he had assured himself that he had without doubt left the neighbourhood, and then set out for Cadiz. He had a mansion in that city where he took up his abode. He had been in his youth at sea, and had still a number of seafaring acquaintance. They were not all of them amongst the most respectable orders of society; perhaps they were the better suited to carry out the object he had in view. He was a cunning man if not a wise one, and knew that he was more likely to succeed by doing things deliberately than in a hurry. He began to frequent places where he was likely to fall in with his old nautical associates, and when he met them he seemed to take great interest in their welfare, and made many inquiries as to their late adventures and mode of life. War had just broken out between England and France, and all the other nations of Europe were in consequence arming, both afloat and on shore, not knowing when they might be drawn into the vortex of strife. In all the ports of Spain, and at Cadiz especially, not only at the royal, but at the mercantile dockyards, vessels were being fitted out and armed ready to take a part in the contest. People of all descriptions, many who had long been wanderers on the face of the globe, were collected there with the hope of getting employment on board the numerous privateers fitting out, caring nothing which side they espoused, provided an abundance of prize-money was to be obtained. Among these worthies the marquis found several old acquaintances. He did not fail in the course of conversation to make inquiries about other former shipmates. He invited them to his house, and treated them with unexpected liberality. One and all declared that he was well worthy of the exalted rank to which he had attained. He was seated one day alone, not having yet found the description of man of whom he was in search, when a stranger was announced. "He is a seafaring man," said the servant, "but he declines to give his name, as he says your excellency is not acquainted with it." "Let him come in--perhaps he may have business with me," said the marquis; and a tall, thin, swarthy personage, with a large pair of moustaches which totally concealed his mouth, entered the room. He probably was about fifty years old, but he had as much the appearance of a soldier as of a sailor about him; he seated himself in a chair, and immediately said: "Your very obedient servant, most noble marquis. I understand that you are in search of a trustworthy man to undertake some work or other for you." "I--I never said any such thing," exclaimed the marquis, somewhat confused. "Your excellency may not have said it, but the tenor of your conduct shows me what you require. You would not trouble yourself with the company of all the people you have lately invited to your house unless you required something from them. Come, be frank; I have guessed rightly, have I not?" "Before I answer that question I must know whom I address," answered the marquis, trying to look very wise. "As to that, my name is not unknown to fame," replied the stranger in a careless tone. "I am Don Josef Tacon, or Captain Tacon, as I am generally called; we have met before now in the days of our youth; in the West Indies; on the coast of Africa; you remember me, perhaps. You recollect how we boarded the Dutchman, and how we relieved the Mynheers of their cash and cargo, and provisions and water; and you haven't forgotten the English West Indiaman we captured and sent to the bottom with all her crew when they threatened to send one of their cruisers after us. These and other little similar incidents have not escaped your memory, most noble marquis." Don Anibal winced not a little while the pirate--for such he avowed himself to be--was speaking; but he notwithstanding held out his hand and hailed him as an old shipmate, "My memory is as good as you suppose, my friend," he remarked; "but we will not dwell on those matters. There are some things a man would gladly forget if he could. However, there is an affair in which an intelligent fellow like you would be useful, if you will undertake it." "Name your price, Don Anibal, and I will tell you if I can undertake it," answered Captain Tacon; "my fortunes are somewhat at a low ebb, and I am ready to engage in any enterprise which promises sufficient remuneration." "You were always a reasonable man. What do you say to two thousand dollars? It would be worth a little exertion to gain that," observed the marquis. "Tell me what you require to be done, and I will then give you a direct answer," said the pirate. The marquis thought for some time before he replied. "I must swear you to secrecy in the first place, and in the next, that you will decide, when I have put before you the outline of the work required, without obliging me to descend to particulars." "Depend on me, marquis," exclaimed the pirate. "As I see a crucifix at the other end of the room, I will take the oath; and now hasten on with your sketch; I am a man of action, and will speedily decide." "Listen, then," said Don Anibal. "You can, I doubt not, obtain command of one of the numerous vessels fitting out as privateers; I will use my influence. I can speak to your character for bravery, enterprise, sagacity--you understand me: you must use every exertion to find a craft. I know your talents--you will not fail." Captain Tacon smiled grimly at the compliments the marquis paid him. "But the enterprise, the work you require of me, most noble marquis?" he said, with a slight gesture of impatience. "I am coming to that, my friend," was the answer. "It lies in a nutshell: in a northern region there exists a child, of whose person, for certain reasons, unnecessary now to state, I wish to obtain possession. He lives in a mansion capable of defence; you may possibly, therefore, have to use force, but that of course will only make the work more agreeable to you. On your bringing me satisfactory assurance that you have disposed of the child as I may direct, the reward shall be yours. In the meantime, this purse, as soon as you decide, I will present to you. It is but an earnest of my liberal intentions." The exhibition of the gold was a bright thought of Don Anibal's. As the taste of blood whets the appetite of the wild beast, so did the glittering bait the avarice of the pirate. "Give me the purse," he exclaimed, eagerly stretching out his hands; "I will take the oath." "Take the oath, and you shall have the purse," answered the marquis, smiling blandly. "No mental reservations, though; I do not forget your antecedents, my old comrade." Captain Tacon gave a hoarse laugh, and twirling his moustachios, while his countenance wore the expression of a person about to swallow a nauseous draught, he walked across the room towards the crucifix. The marquis followed, with a self-satisfied look, as if he had achieved a victory. It is not necessary to repeat the oath taken by the pirate, or to describe the final arrangements entered into between the two worthies. In a few days Captain Tacon again made his appearance, habited in a handsome nautical costume, with a huge cocked hat, and a richly-mounted sword by his side, and announced that he had become the captain of the privateer schooner "San Nicolas." "Never did you set eyes on a finer craft, most noble marquis," he exclaimed; "she will fly like the wind, and swim like a wild-fowl. She carries eight guns, and an unlimited supply of small arms, with a bold crew of sixty men, villains every one! There is no deed of violence they will not dare or do; and now we are ready to sail when we receive your final orders." "I knew that I could trust you in the selection of your followers," said the marquis, quietly. "Here are your orders; you will open them when at sea, and see that you carry them out in the spirit as well as in the letter. You will, of course, be well provided with flags. It may be convenient, at times, to sail under some other flag than that of Spain." Don Tacon smiled. "I have some little experience in those matters," he answered, "trust me." That evening the "San Nicolas" privateer was seen standing out of the harbour and steering to the northward. It was announced that she had sailed on a cruise, and would before long return. It must not be supposed that all these arrangements took place with the rapidity with which they have been described. The Spaniards love dearly to do everything with deliberation; the summer had ended, and the winter had come and gone, before the events just narrated took place. Two or three days after the "San Nicolas" had sailed, it became generally known that Lieutenant Pedro Alvarez, the only surviving officer of the unfortunate "Saint Cecilia," had arrived at Cadiz. Such was the case--Pedro had obtained a passage on board an English man-of-war. When some sixty leagues to the north of Cadiz, she had fallen in with a suspicious-looking craft, which hoisted Spanish colours. An officer was sent to board her, and Lieutenant Alvarez was requested to go as interpreter. The stranger proved to be the privateer schooner "San Nicolas," and in her captain he recognised an old acquaintance. The last time they had met, it had been under somewhat unpleasant circumstances for Captain Tacon, who had almost got his head into a halter, and but narrowly slipped it out again. The worthy lieutenant very naturally suspected, from his knowledge of Don Josef's previous history, that he was not engaged in any very creditable undertaking. He at once suspected that he was not sailing on a simple privateering voyage, but of course he failed to ascertain the truth. The more questions he asked, the more mysterious and important his quondam acquaintance became. The result of his conversation was, that he resolved, as soon as he arrived at Cadiz, to make all the inquiries in his power about Captain Tacon, and the "San Nicolas." Pedro Alvarez was a blunt sailor, but he had a very considerable amount of sagacity. Before long, he discovered that his quondam acquaintance had been known to pay frequent visits to the Marquis de Medea, who was also known to have had some correspondence with the owners of the "San Nicolas." More than this Pedro could not discover; but it was sufficient to make him suspect that the schooner's voyage was in some way connected with the affairs of the marquis himself. He was not however a man to do things by halves, so he continued to work on in the hope that he might at last ferret out the truth. However, he had not much time for this occupation; for having reported himself to the naval authorities, he was forthwith promoted, and appointed to the command of a brig-of-war. His great aim, however, before he sailed, was to place in proper train with the legal authorities the claims of young Hernan Escalante to the title and estates now held by Don Anibal de Villavicencio. He was aware that possession is nine-tenths of the law, and that he must expect to have a very tough battle to fight. "Never fear for the consequences," said he to his legal adviser. "I have neither wife nor child, nor any one depending on me, and as long as I have a silver piece belonging to me, I will expend it in claiming the rights of that poor child." Having just given expression to this virtuous resolution as he was leaving the lawyer's door, he found himself standing face to face with Father Mendez. The priest looked narrowly at the house. He recollected that a well-known lawyer lived there. What could the rough lieutenant want with him? He jumped at a conclusion, which was not far from the truth; still his countenance wore its usual calm and inexpressive look. "Ha! my old shipmate! I did not expect to see you so soon in our own well-beloved native land," he exclaimed. "These are stirring times, and you did well to return: you will not be long on shore, however, I conclude?" "Not long enough to lose my sea legs or sea manners," answered Pedro, bluntly. "Have you another appointment yet, my friend?" asked the priest. "My superiors think me too useful to allow me to remain long unemployed," replied Pedro. "That is well: take the advice of a friend, and attend to your own duties," said the priest, in a suppressed tone, sinking at last to a whisper; "you will but burn your fingers if you interfere where you have no concern." "Thank you for your hint, most astute priest. Then you guess what I am about," thought Pedro, but he did not speak aloud. He only tried to look totally unconscious of what Father Mendez could possibly mean. He did not succeed as well as he wished or fancied that he had done, and the father saw that it would be necessary to watch him very narrowly, to counteract any scheme he might attempt to carry into execution. The lieutenant, meantime, fancied that he had outwitted the priest, and continued with the greatest energy to prosecute the work he had commenced. Father Mendez was not long in discovering this, and with fully equal resolution took steps to put a stop to his proceedings. He also prided himself on performing whatever he undertook in the most effectual manner. He saw that Pedro might cause him a great deal of trouble and inconvenience. There were two ways which suggested themselves of disposing of him: he might inform the marquis of his proceedings, who would, without the slightest scruple, probably get him assassinated; but the bravo's dagger was not always sure, and if the marquis knew that he was dead he might be tempted to assume more independence than would be convenient. He had another plan, which could not possibly fail. Pedro Alvarez, as do most captains, lived on shore while his ship was fitting out. He continued to do so after she was ready for sea, and while he was waiting for orders. He had made every preparation for sailing, and was ready to trip his anchor at a moment's notice. At last his despatches arrived. He was paying his last visit to the shore, when, as he was sitting in the room of his lodging glancing over a few accounts which remained unpaid, a stranger was announced. Captain Alvarez rose to receive him, and requested to know the object of his visit. As he did so, he recognised a person of whom he had caught a glimpse more than once, watching him as he left the house. "No matter who I am," said the stranger; "I but obey the orders of my superiors, and I am directed to desire you to attend at the office of the Holy Inquisition, there to answer certain accusations which have been brought against you. This, it is hoped, you can at once easily and completely do, and that you will therefore not hesitate to accompany me. A carriage waits for us at the end of the street. You can arrange the matters about which you are now occupied on your return. I am directed to accompany you, and as the council is now sitting there is no time to be lost." "Do you expect to catch a weasel asleep?" thought Pedro, at least an equivalent Spanish proverb occurred to him. Pedro was conscious that he had at times expressed himself, in coffee-houses and taverns, in a way not over complimentary, either to the priests or the Inquisition itself; and he felt very sure that no explanations he could give would prove satisfactory to the Inquisitional council. The bold determined look he gave the officer was such as that worthy officer was little accustomed to receive from the trembling wretches on whom he served his summonses. "You have performed your duty, my friend, and now go back to those who sent you, and inform them that you have delivered your message, but that my avocations prevent me from acceding to their demands." The official looked wonderfully astonished, and, without saying another word, drew a pistol from his bosom, and clapping it to the seaman's head, told him that he must enforce obedience. "Must you, friend?" exclaimed Pedro, by a sudden movement of his arm striking up the pistol; "then I must resist by force." The official pulled the trigger, but the weapon had not often been used, and the powder flashed in the pan. He was about to draw another, but Pedro's quick eye saw the man's purpose. His own sword lay on the table. He seized it with one hand, while with the other he grasped the barrel of the pistol about to be turned towards him. At that instant the official's foot slipped, and, as he fell heavily forward, the point of the sword entered his throat and pierced through to the spine. Pedro caught him as he fell, but the wound was mortal, and in another minute he was dead. Pedro Alvarez was as bold and brave a seaman as ever stepped; but he knew full well that killing an official of the Inquisition in the execution of his duty, would make the country too hot for him. The instinct of self-preservation was as strong with him as with most men. He considered how he could avoid the consequences of his act. There was a large cupboard in the room. He dragged the body in, and locking the door put the key in his pocket. The wound had not bled much, and he was able to get rid of the traces without much difficulty. It just then occurred to him that the owners of the house would get into trouble when the body should be discovered; so he wrote on a piece of paper--"This man attempted to kill me, and in self-defence, I, against my wish, slew him.--Pedro Alvarez;" and, opening the door of the cupboard, pinned it on the stranger's coat. He then put all the papers belonging to him into his pocket, and deliberately walked down to the quays. His boat was waiting for him. His heart beat much more regularly than it had done for the last half hour, as he sprang on board and shoved off. His crew gave way, and he soon stepped the deck of his beautiful little brig, the "Veloz." The next instant the boats were hoisted in, the anchor was weighed, the topsails were let fall and sheeted home, and the brig, with a fine breeze from the southward, stood out of the harbour. Every sail the brig could carry was pressed on her. The officers and crew were delighted with the way she flew through the water. Her captain turned his spyglass very often towards the town: he made out, at last, a boat pulling off rapidly towards the brig, and shortly afterwards his signal midshipman reported that one of the ships-of-war in the harbour was telegraphing to them. "You must be mistaken, boy; it cannot be intended for us shut up your book, we are beyond signalling distance," he answered. "And so farewell to lovely Spain--for ever, perhaps," he thought to himself. "It will take more years than I am likely to live to make those wretches forget or forgive the death of their official. From henceforth I am a banished man. For myself I care not; but for poor young Hernan--who is to advocate his cause? Well, I fear for this time the spirit of evil and his imps have got the upper hand of honest folk." _ |
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