CHAPTER I.

Nul ne sut mieux que lui le grand art de séduire; Nul sur ses passions n'eut jamais plus d'empire, Et ne sut mieux cacher, sous des dehors trompeurs, Des plus vastes desseins les sombres profondeurs.

_Voltaire._

The pathetic and heart-rending lamentations of Theodora rung ominous in the ears of Gomez Arias long after he had ceased to hear them; but as he drew near Granada, and beheld its stately edifices, ambition again dazzled his imagination, and he welcomed the bright images which rose before his view to dispel the gloomy tendency of his present thoughts. The stately turrets of the Alhambra enlarging upon his sight, awakened the most flattering ideas in his ardent mind. Proud of the regard with which he was honored by his gracious sovereign, and truly estimating the high connexion he was about to form, he naturally anticipated the most brilliant and honorable career. The last lingering suggestion of remorse, which told him of the cruelty and ingratitude by which he had paved the way to his advancement, now grew less powerful, and conscience, that terrible monitor of the human heart, hushed her enfeebled voice, bribed by the rich prize offered for future silence.

Don Lope secretly applauded the dexterity with which he had extricated himself from all his dilemmas, and rejoiced at having parted with Roque, who now could only be considered as a witness of his crime. By handing him over to the custody of the Moors, he was safely rid of a troublesome servant, whose frowardness in future he must have tolerated as the reward of secrecy. Besides, there was a further probability that the loquacious disposition and impertinent sallies of the valet, would ultimately draw upon him the ill-humour of some sullen Moor, who, not inclined to relish his jests, might pay with a few inches of a poniard the freedom of his tongue. With regard to Theodora, Don Lope could entertain no fear of her escape, being under the guardianship of one who appeared to be a captive to her charms. Meantime his wedding with Leonor would be celebrated, all his views accomplished, and then if a decree of wayward fate interfered with his flourishing honors, he would already have power to set aside the past, and to make his way clear for the future.

In this pleasing anticipation, Gomez Arias arrived at Granada, and awaited impatiently for the auspicious morning that was to terminate his fears, and crown his fondest desires. Early in the morning, therefore, he flew to the mansion of the Aguilars without changing his dress, and bearing in his appearance all the hurry and derangement of a hasty journey. He found Don Alonso in the apartment of Leonor; but the welcome he received from the object of his attachment was certainly not given with the warmth of an affianced bride; nor did the countenance of Aguilar betoken any very friendly reception. Don Lope felt this coldness, but he perceived the urgency of sustaining his equality of character, whatever might be the nature of the peril with which he was threatened. Affecting, therefore, not to notice the unsocial cast of their meeting, in a gay and lively tone addressed himself to Leonor--

"My dear Leonor," he said, "in my impatience to greet you, I may appear guilty of a little indecorum," looking upon his dress; "but you will, perhaps, on that plea pardon my presenting myself before you in a manner so irregular."

"Oh, Don Lope," answered Leonor with a sarcastic smile, "I can forgive you any thing, for my nature has become of late so indulgent, that I find I could pardon offences much graver than a mere breach of manners."

"Your goodness I never doubted," replied Gomez Arias; "but methinks you look rather uneasy; surely you are not indisposed?--the noble Don Alonso too! Nay, has any thing occurred during my short absence to cause your disquietude?"

"Certainly," returned Leonor coldly, "nothing has happened that _ought_ to cause disquietude. But, surely, Don Lope," she added sarcastically, "your sudden departure, and the summons of our mutual friend Count de Ureña, might have held us in some little anxiety. Moreover, other small circumstances have contributed to cause a transient uneasiness."

"But you must not," interposed Don Lope, "suffer yourselves to be discomposed on account of our friend Ureña, for I am happy to say he was considerably better when I left him."

"Then," cried Aguilar, "it is as I suspected."

And rising from his seat with an expression of dark displeasure, without further ceremony he quitted the apartment. Gomez Arias was struck at such strange behaviour; but soon recovering his surprise,--

"What means this, Leonor?" he said in an angry tone: "Why am I treated thus?"

"Don Lope," returned Leonor, "surely the malady of your friend has somewhat affected your understanding. We can have no right to interfere with the actions of my father, particularly as I have already told you some accidents have occurred lately to ruffle his temper."

"And what accidents are those, in the name of heaven?"

"Are you really, then, so ignorant of the events which have taken place since you were imperiously summoned to attend your friend?"

"Perfectly ignorant," replied Don Lope.

Leonor looked steadily in his face, and making a sign of impatience which she was unable to restrain, proceeded--

"It is surprising that the Count has not informed you."

"Of what?" interrupted Gomez Arias, astonished. "In the name of heaven, explain yourself, Leonor."

"Now, do you not think," continued she, in an affected banter, "it was highly ridiculous in a man of so grave a deportment as the Count to play such boyish tricks? Can you really believe that, shortly after your departure, a message came from him, to announce his intention of surprising you by his attendance at your wedding."

"Certainly," replied Gomez Arias with visible marks of emotion, "the Count's conduct is strange; what his intention has been I really cannot conceive: but at all events, it ought in no manner to entail on me your noble father's displeasure."

"Why, Don Lope," said Leonor significantly, "you are not such a novice in knowledge of the world, as to expect that a man's displeasure should be strictly confined to the object by which it has been caused. Besides, Don Alonzo has other reasons: our fair guest, who was so sacredly beholden to him, is gone."

"What fair guest?" demanded Gomez Arias, with feigned curiosity.

"Did you never hear me speak of her?"

"If I did, I really do not remember."

"And what is become of Roque?" abruptly demanded Leonor: "he did not attend you upon your departure yesterday, and search has been made after him without effect. Is he ill?"

"Why, to say the truth, his health is rather precarious," answered Don Lope, "and he has so repeatedly been entreating me to allow him to retire to Toledo, where I believe he has a brother or sister, that I was at length obliged to consent to his wishes; which, in sooth, I did the more willingly, as he was growing of late so careless and impertinent, that his attendance became more troublesome than serviceable to me."

"Why, Don Lope," returned Leonor, "you must have been strangely surprised that he should wish to quit your service precisely on the eve of your wedding day. Moreover, you will be still more amazed when I inform you that it was this identical Roque that eloped with our guest Theodora de Monteblanco."

"Impossible!" exclaimed Don Lope, affecting to be thunderstruck.

"Repollo, our old gardener," continued Leonor, "saw them leave the palace, and instigated by a feeling of curiosity, followed them at a distance, as well as the speed of their pace would permit. He saw them at length halt at the public walks, where another person awaited with horses. But this is the most extraordinary part of the tale, for the gardener said that the person who was so complaisantly attending upon the fugitives, appeared so exactly to resemble you, Don Lope, that he would swear to the identity, were he not certain that you set out in the morning for the seat of Count de Ureña."

Great as was at all times Don Lope's presence of mind, and prepared as he seemed for all contingencies, this last intelligence somewhat deranged his composure; a circumstance which did not escape the keen and scrutinizing eyes of Leonor.

"The insolent rascal," cried Gomez Arias after a pause: "It was for this then that he appeared so anxious to quit my service; but I told you that his behaviour had become of late most impertinent, and even arrogant. The reason is now plainly discovered. But after all, your fair guest, as you are pleased to call the lady-love of this unseemly knight, is most to blame. What, in the name of Lucifer, could possess a woman of noble family to elope with a base menial? Was she devoid of all shame?

"I suppose so," replied Leonor: then, in an expressive tone, she added, "But shame has been completely set aside in all the turnings of this iniquitous affair."

She fixed a significant look on Gomez Arias, whilst the astounded cavalier, aware of the perilous nature of his situation, merely assented to the truth of her observation. Leonor, eager to pursue her clue in ascertaining how far Don Lope was implicated in the transaction, continued,--

"But is it not surprising, Don Lope, that this groom of Roque should in every respect so much resemble you?"

"My dear Leonor," replied Gomez Arias, laughing loudly, and affecting good humour, "it is certainly a sad misfortune to have so unprepossessing a likeness, but we must submit with a good grace to that which is out of our power to remedy. But I dare say the rascally groom is not after all so perfect a resemblance of your devoted admirer as the besotted gardener would make us believe; how could the old dotard distinguish objects so well, at the distance he confesses, and at night? It would seem more probable, by his prowling abroad at such an hour, that a free potation of wine had so far acted upon his senses, that he saw the marvellous story he has related, in a reverie whilst sleeping under the friendly shelter of a ditch."

"Nay, Sir," replied Leonor, "we have no reason to doubt the testimony of an honest and faithful servant, who has no interest in the invention of a tale to deceive his benefactor."

"Well," returned Gomez Arias, "I will prolong the discussion no further than to express my concern that you should bestow your affections on one who has the ill-fortune to resemble a vulgar groom. But I hope this circumstance will not abate the tender regard with which you have condescended to honour one who lives but in your smiles."

Here Gomez Arias attempted to pour forth the most ardent protestations of unalterable attachment; but he was shortly interrupted by Leonor,--

"Nay, Don Lope," she cried, "spare yourself the trouble of uttering a single word more, either to convince me of the sincerity of your love, or in extenuation of your conduct, for I can very well imagine before-hand what you would say."

"That is no miracle," replied Gomez Arias, "your discernment is not too hardly taxed to perceive the emotion which I scarcely wish to conceal, and must of necessity easily imagine the expressions that such feelings must dictate. But pardon, if in a day like the present, my passion oversteps the bounds of common love; for the delirium of bliss that possesses me cannot be manifested by the usual demonstrations of cold-hearted mortals. A day that unites me to the most exalted, as well as the most lovely, of her sex, is surely--"

"Hold, Don Lope," gravely interrupted Leonor; "I will not now dwell upon the respective merits of your passion--for I have a favor to ask, and it is your time to grant a request which, perchance, may sound strangely to your ear."

"I need not say that the wishes of my charming Leonor can meet with no opposition from me," politely answered Gomez Arias.

"Yesterday," continued Leonor, "notwithstanding the fervour of your love, you requested that the wedding should be deferred one day. Now, you cannot deny me a similar favor, and I have particular reasons for desiring that it may be further postponed for a month."

"Heavens! what say you? A month! a whole month!"

"Yes, Sir," cried Leonor with emotion, "a month--a year, if circumstances require a further delay--'tis alike indifferent to me."

Saying this she abruptly left the apartment, leaving Gomez Arias in indescribable consternation.

"I am ruined!" he cried after a pause: "the forced indifference which Leonor has imposed upon herself during this interview, and the burst of feeling that marked her departure, leave me no room to doubt that her suspicions are excited. But shall I tamely submit to this reverse of fortune, after the many and cruel measures I have been impelled to adopt for the success of my designs? No, by heaven! I will not."

He then remained sometime buried in a musing attitude, balancing in his mind the most prudent course to pursue in so difficult a situation.

"Boldness and indifference," he said at length, "alone can insure safety. From Theodora and Roque, I have nothing to apprehend. I will forthwith send instructions to Count de Ureña; nay, I will partially open my heart to him, since his co-operation is now become indispensable to the furtherance of my plans."

After this, Gomez Arias sought another interview with Leonor, and with a proud and offended demeanor, informed her that he was perfectly willing to concede her request. Then, without waiting for an answer, he abruptly left her presence. He next repaired to Aguilar, and bitterly complained of the material change he had observed in him as well as in his daughter Leonor.

"If," he added, "you have reasons to impeach my integrity, speak aloud, Don Alonso, and give me an opportunity of removing the foul slander. But if it is a caprice, or a late repentance in her choice, that induces your daughter to adopt this strange behaviour, let her speak frankly--Gomez Arias is above the thought of constraining a woman's inclinations--and she shall be at once released from all engagements."

Don Alonso de Aguilar was struck with the generosity and manliness of Gomez Arias, and gave credit to the apparent sincerity of his words. The noble mind of Don Alonso could not conceive it possible that guilt should assume so perfect a resemblance of candour. The disappearance of Theodora, and the events which had attended her departure, were certainly well calculated to awake a suspicion that Gomez Arias was implicated in that affair; but as nothing positive could be adduced to prove his participation, Aguilar did not feel inclined to proceed with inconsiderate hastiness in an affair calculated materially to injure Gomez Arias in the estimation of the world. Leonor was naturally more irritated than her father at the least shadow of duplicity in the conduct of her lover. Thus she had requested the wedding to be deferred for a month, during which interval a proper investigation might be made.

Gomez Arias did not lose time in calling all his abilities into requisition, for his case was desperate, and it was necessary that the remedies should partake of the same character. He continued his visits to the Aguilars, but not with the same confidence as heretofore; and as he witnessed the high degree of esteem in which Don Antonio de Leyva was held, both by Don Alonso and his daughter, he affected to look on Leonor with offended pride, while he bitterly insinuated that it was a growing attachment for young de Leyva that had induced her to consider with suspicion, and treat with coldness, the conduct of a sincere lover.

Leonor, however, continued in the same frame of mind, insensible alike to his expostulations and bitter sarcasms. Deeply had her pride been offended, and deeply she had determined to resent the affront; nor could her sagacity and penetration permit her incautiously to trust the soft words and blandishments of a man whose notoriety in gallantry, she began to suspect, did not originate in idle rumour.

Meanwhile the irritated Don Lope spared no efforts to place his own conduct in a favorable light, and endeavoured to cast the imputation of caprice on that of the Aguilars. He complained constantly in terms of acrimony of the ungrateful manner in which his affection had been requited, and vowed vengeance against de Leyva, whom he accused of most criminal and ungentlemanly duplicity.

Contending feelings kept him in a continual turmoil, and he earnestly wished for an opportunity that might divert both the court and himself from a subject of which he was so disagreeably the hero.

Fortune again favoured his desires, by bringing about an event as terrible as it was altogether unexpected.