The Genius (Carl Grosse)/Chapter 2
CHAP. II.
St. Jago lies at the distance of four good leagues from Alcantara. It was necessary for me to set out the same night, and notwithstanding a terrible storm, and the remonstrances of my trusty servant Alfonso, I mounted on horseback, and galloped out of the city gates. Alfonso had prophesied true; the rain, mixed with thunder and lightning, burst in clouds from the sky, and soaked us to the skin; the wind which blew a hurricane, threw us several times from our horses, and no path was cognizable to our sight;—the poor animals, sunk at every pace deeper in the bogs; at last we neither knew the situation of the convent, nor the direction of the town, and in the most imminent peril of being drowned or choaked in the moors, reached the borders of a forest.—Here new terrors overwhelmed us. To lessen the fright I began to sing a song, and Alfonso joined me by way of chorus. Suddenly the seemed to be animated with a hundred voices, which I took for the echo of the woodlands; but what was my astonishment, when I heard the second verse begun, before we had done with the first. "What can this be?" cried I to Alfonso. "Ah! my Lord," answered the poor fellow trembling; "I'm sure this wood is haunted by a thousand devils that want to break our necks."
I now descried a beaten road before us. Impelled by an agony of fear, I so violently spurred my horse, that he run off in full spread, while poor Alfonso, entangled in the bushes, cried after, without being able to overtake me. In less than a minute I got so far as to hear nothing more, and having constantly tried to check the rapid course of my horse, he strayed from the road into a thick covert. The sky had cleared up, and still my situation was comfortless. A thousand times I called Alfonso, but nobody answered. While looking out for a path, I perceived several lights, at a distance, whith like mephitic fires, disappeared gradually; there was one, however, whose gleam appeared fixed and stationary, and traversing several marshes, up to my knees in the mire, I, at last, discovered a little hovel, in a thicket, from which the rays proceeded. I approached the entrance and gave a loud rap, when a soft voice called out from within: "Lay down the things, Maria, and open the door." The door was opened by a little girl; a woman turned her back to me, busied with stirring a coal-fire, and a little boy seeing me, hid his face in her bosom, crying: "Ah, mother! only look!"
"I'm glad thou'rt come Jago," said the woman without turning an eye from the fire, and the kettle that was put over it. "I wish you had brought father too, I have been obliged to burn all the fuel, waiting so long, but I warrant you, my dear, you'll relish the soup the better."
She now took the cover off the kettle, and looked into it with all the solicitude of a busy and pleased housewife,
"Dear woman," cried I at last, "that was a terrible storm—"
"Aye," interrupted she, "and the lightning as bad—I dare say, poor soul, thou'st got wet through—"
At these words she cast her eyes towards the door, and seeing me with my horse which had half entered the cot, she startled, the cover dropt from her hands, the kettle overset, and the nicest of soups ran spuming into the fire, which it totally extinguished. But for the pale glimpse of a small lamp, that hung at the window, we should have been in complete darkness. She now recovered from her surprize, rose and advanced towards me.
—"Excuse me, good woman," pursued I, "I have lost my way—"
"—Never mind, Sir," returned she in a friendly tone, © you are welcome in-doors,, but your horse may as well keep without."
I made no reply, went out, fastened the animal to a tree, and returned to the hovel.
—"I am afraid, Sir," resumed she, "you are both wet and hungry: I would instantly light a fire, if I could but procure dry wood."
—"Since mine is the fault," answered I, "that the kettle overset; it is but justice, that mine should be the punishment to procure wood."
So saying, I ran out and got deep among the bushes in search of what I wanted. I heard my horse neigh, which was always the case when any body meddled with him. A loud and conjoint laugh of several voices ensued, from which I inferred Jago's return. In about half an hour, I had gathered with great difficulty a bundle of wood and hastening back to the cot, found Jago, with his wife sitting on his knees. The lamp, which stood on the ground before the hearth, cast its full radiance into her beautiful face, whose charms I had not till now been able to discover. The little children thronged around them, I stood quite enraptured at this scene of rural felicity,—"O God!" exclaimed Jago in a pensive mood, when the little boy interrupted him by calling out: "Here's the stranger!"
Jago now gently raised his fair burden, rose; and shaking me by the hand; "You are heartily welcome," said he, "we have no convenience here, but you are seen with pleasure."
I made some apologies, but they were waved; the charming woman lighted the fire, another mess was soon prepared, and while the blazing flames of the hospitable hearth dried our clothes, we began a serious conversation, in the course of which I soon perceived that the knowledge and cultivation of my hosts were of a much superior kind to the humble sphere in which they then moved.
At last, I seized her hand: "pardon my indiscretion, charming woman," said I, "how came you to this hovel, how came you to quit a world that would adore you?"
—"Adore?" returned she, smiling; "how do you know, Sennor, but this is the very reason that made me quit it?"
—"Our history," interrupted Jago, "is very long, and very dismal. You are sensible, Sennor, that here is our last refuge; we have devoted part of our life to the world, but the fairest portion of it, we reserve for our happiness."
—"Shall I," said Jago, "communicate part of our story to this gentlemen?"—She nodded assent, played with her children, stole at times, unperceived, out of the cot, and seemed only to take a distant interest in the account.
"—We are both of a noble origin," continued Jago; "but you'll permit me, Sennor, to conceal the names of our families. My youth had nothing interesting in it; being the fifth and youngest son, and no great provision of course made for me, to support the character of a nobleman, my parents resolved to consecrate me to the service of the church. But my inclination was for the army, and fortune favored my wishes. I rose from a cadet to the rank of lieutenant; and a rebellion in New Spain demanding some forces to quell it, my regiment was ordered to march to Cadiz to embark for foreign service, and I obtained the command of a company. Meanwhile the avisos, destined to facilitate the arrival of the galleons, being detained by contrary winds, and by the roguishness of the contractors; we had no chance of putting to sea, till some months afterwards, which interval became the most memorable time of my life, Cadiz being a place mostly inhabited by merchants, and the military but little respected at that time; it was difficult to get introduced into any good family. My intercourse was, therefore, limited to the officers of my regiment, and having little else to do than to walk about, the harbor became almost the constant place of my excursions. I found afterwards a more pleasant walk on the north-east side of Fort St. Sebastian; where I frequently sat musing at the light-house, surveying the wide surface of the ocean, and dreaming of future wealth and happiness. My reveries were seldom disturbed by the devotees, who came to sacrifice in the adjacent chapel of St. Sebastian.
"Soon after happened the famous occurrence of a ship from St. Maloes, attempting to export silver without paying the customary duties. It was resolved to seize her, and confiscate the cargo. Two armed galiots began the attack, when the Maloese captain refusing to strike, not only defended himself, but attempted to take one of the galiots. The combat was obstinate, and the Frenchman, being dismasted and driven on shore, after having rendered the two galiots unfit for farther pursuit, seeing two others heave in sight, set fire to his magazine and blew up the ship.
"Only twelve people were driven on shore half-dead upon some pieces of the wreck, and instead of giving them proper assistance, the custom-house officers tore the very clothes off their backs. Being near the spot, I went to check the plundering banditti, and, sword in hand, rescued from their rapacious clutches a well-drest young man, whom I carried almost lifeless to a neighboring inn, where I gave orders for care to be taken of him.
"When I went to see him the next morning; I found he had disappeared. Accustomed to ingratitude, I pulled out my purse to pay a long bill of expences which the landlord presented to me, and proud of having done a humane and charitable action, resumed my favorite walk. The great number of strangers I saw there, afforded me a very agreeable pastime; but the figure and deportment of a man, muffled up in a large cloak, with his hat slouched over one half of his face, chiefly engrossed my notice. He daily came to the chapel, was very short in his devotion, and each time stopt a few minutes before the gate to read an ancient inscription, then hung his head in a melancholy pause, hid himself deeper in his cloak, and suddenly went away. His frequent visiting the chapel, and his whole air and demeanor, become equally striking to the rest of the devotees. Whole crowds of people, at last, came from the city, stared at the mystic inscription on the church-wall, and the stranger soon found its avenues quite inaccessible on his arrival, while the gaping multitude, pointed with their fingers at him, and called out so loudly, 'Behold the Sorcerer!' that I really thought he would not have returned again.
"But he never missed a day, and if he could get near the stone, always fixed his eyes on it, for a moment. When the clamors of the people grew too loud, he would open his cloak, and measure the whole crowd with a gloomy stare. An involuntary horror then seemed to seize them all, and their courage and sauciness never revived till he was gone.
"I generally stood in the midst of the gaping populace and often found his regards so significantly fixed on me, that I could not help feeling an inward emotion of awful reverence.
"One evening in the dusk, I happened to be alone with him on the square before the chapel, when he surveyed me with great astonishment, and finding nobody near, thus civilly addressed me:
"Your appearance, Sennor, bespeaks a man of honor and courage; may I trust such appearance?"
—"To be sure, Sennor, you safely may."
—"Then may I request you," continued he, "to be here between midnight and one in the morning?"
—"If I knew, Sennor—"
—"You shall know all," interrupted he, eagerly. I wish for an undisturbed conversation with you. It will be a moonlight night, and I, Sennor,—am an honest man."
Here he opened his cloak and his fair and large eyes attested the sincerity of his declaration,
—"You may depend oh my coming, said I; I am no dastard, and in case of an attack, know how to defend myself."
"He now bowed, wrapt himself up in his wonted manner, and retired.
"When the first stroke of the chapel-bell proclaimed midnight, I was oft the appointed spot. The moon frequently hid herself behind the passing clouds, and cast a solemn glimpse of the surrounding objects. The brisk gales from the sea-side clattered among the panes of the sacred pile, the weathercocks and the flagstaff of the fort creaked on their holds, and the sea-surf dashed with roaring violence against the ramparts. I walked up and down well-armed, and wrapt up in a cloak. At first, curiosity had been my principal sensation, and my fancy roved through a maze of probabilities.to solve the questions, with which I had already for several weeks tormented myself. But the stranger staying away longer than he had promised, and the clock striking one without any more prospect of his coming, I began to grow fearful: the rattling of the half-mouldered crosses on the graves of the departed dead; the rustling of every leaf now made my hair stand an end. On the point of going away with impatience, the long expected stranger advanced on the church-yard-path. "Pardon me," cried he, "for having made you wait so long," He then took me by the hand, and led me to the chapel-gate. "Time is short," resumed he, "I have but little to tell you. A few years ago, I happened to get acquainted with a very singular man at Alcantara, who disappeared soon after from the inn in which we both lodged. In his haste, he left behind him a pocket book, which was brought to me, containing a number of letters partly unintelligible, partly insignificant in their purport. It also contained the key of an alphabet, by which I have lately been enabled to decipher those writings, besides the inscription on this wall. It has, perhaps, been hitherto considered as the remains of some ancient funeral monument, and on this account put up here; but by my key, this is its real meaning: Stranger and initiated companion! The friends are near. A forest, and a cavern not far from Alcantara. The first day of the month."
"At these words, the stranger eyed me with an expressive glance, asking: "what say you to this, Sennor?"
—"I don't know," answered I; "the inscription is as obscure to me as before. What are we to do with it?"
—"What," cried he with indignation, "can you ask still? Much has your appearance deceived me. I advise you quickly to be gone, or you shall feel the keenness of my sword?"
—"Your sword shall not frighten me," returned I laughing: "But why so hot? It is impossible you should be more curious than I am to unravel the secret, I only meant to ask your counsel in the matter."
"This seemed to appease him a little.—"Certainly, what shall we do!" repeated he with a deep sigh. "We are only in the middle of the month, and must quietly wait the beginning of the next. Will you then go with me?"
"I informed him, that I would ask leave, if the galiots which were to carry me with the regiment to which I belonged to Mexico, did not fail before."
—"Good God!" exclaimed he, "I could never have thought it; I would not have told you a syllable. But I hope, you will keep secresy. I like you from my heart, without knowing why; I offer you my friendship. Don't wave it, for I may sometime be useful to you."
—"I accept it with thanks, Sennor."
—"Then don't ask leave; it would create suspicion. I'll go by myself. And if I return, and find you here, you shall know all. If you are gone, the mystery will be kept from you till some other day."
"He now embraced me cordially, withdrew, and I followed him soon after.
"A few days subsequent to this adventure, we received sailing orders. After a long and tedious passage we arrived at Mexico; the disturbances were soon quelled, and the next year, I obtained leave to visit my family in Old Spain. Four days after my arrival at Cadiz, I received the following note, without signature:
"You see, that I am a man that keeps his word. I have been waiting now a twelvemonth for your return, at which I much rejoice. What discoveries have I to make to you! At nine o'clock I am at your lodgings."
Here the children interrupted Jago's narrative, by calling out: "Here comes father!" He had only time to add: "This is the man, Don Carlos!"—I was looking at my host with astonishment, and on the point of asking him, "What, do you know me?"—when in came the old man, who faithfully answered the description he had given of him. He approached the fire, and now and then, cast a melancholy look upon the woman, Jago and me. He either seemed to miss something in the place, or not to wish to make himself familiar with a stranger.
At last, he sat down with us. "You come from Alcantara, Sennor;" said he. Jago answered in the affirmative, "It was a stormy night," added he; "you may thank your fortune, that it brought you hither."
After a long pause, I was determined to break the silence, and laying hold of his hand, "Sennor," said I, "I know you. Jago has been telling me the story. Favor me with your friendship."
—"You don't know what you ask of me," replied he. "I, too, know you, Don Carlos. You are of the house of Grandez, I have lately seen and liked you, I'll do all I can. Only tell me, what you wish.
—"Your friend here, was just relating his return from America, when your arrival stopt the account. You was to visit him, to discover a secret respecting the old inscription-stone. What was it, pray?"
Here he rose angry from his seat, exclaiming: "Has Jago thus—?"—He went again to the fire, and in a few seconds pulled out his watch, saying: "It is six o'clock, Don Carlos, go now to Elmira. She expects you in the little chapel to the right. Return hither this day six weeks."
Overwhelmed with surprize, I was studying how to reply, when he suddenly vanished. "Powers!" cried I, "how marvellous?—Am I dreaming or in my senses?"
"Follow him," said Jago, and rose likewise.
"One word more"——
"Not a syllable," replied Jago, "your horse is fed. Speed away; and forget not to see us again."
"I will certainly not forget it, Jago."—I embraced him; his eyes were brimful of tears; my horse was at the door; he showed me a small road, and when the sun edged the top of the mountain-brow, I was on the heath.
A thousand reflections thronged into my mind, I could not conceive, why Jago wept, and his lovely partner was so sullen, when the old man arrived. I could not reconcile this picture of sadness to the enchanting scene of their domestic felicity. The cottage of innocence cannot be the haunt of crime, and had they been robbers, why did they not plunder me?
Often had I hunted in that forest, but never knew such a hut to be in it. Various indeed were the reports of a haunted and ruinous castle, said to be in its centre; but my way had never led me so far.
Agitated by a thousand strange illusions, my horse made a stop, and I saw a human form lie quite close to me, among the briars. As I alighted, it began to move. "Ah! don't murder me, dear ghost, don't!" cried a human voice—it was Alfonso's. Shivering with cold, and quaking with terror, he wanted at my approach, to get away; when I called out to him with a laugh: —"What the devil brought thee hither Alfonso! Where's thy horse!"
"Jesus Maria!" cried he, "is it you Don Carlos? Is my Lord alive still? To be sure, hell must be in this damned forest? How did your honor manage to get out again?" Thus declaiming, he crept forth from the briars.
"But where's the horse, Alfonso?"
"Upon my life, I can't tell. Soon after your honor rode off, and left me behind, several lights were dancing about the moor; the animal took fright, threw me in a bog, and I have not seen him since. I have been creeping all night about this heath, pricked myself all over, and could not find my way after all. Pray help me to rise, I have sprain'd my foot and can't walk."
I lifted and put him on my horse. We soon arrived at a well known village, where I left the poor fellow under the care of a surgeon. I rode on in full gallop, and reached the Capuchin convent at St. Jago, exactly by 10 o'clock in the morning.