The Prime Minister Part 44

"What, all enemies of Teixeira?"

"All, and trusty men. Speak not again, friend. We come to act, not to talk," whispered Policarpio.

The six hors.e.m.e.n rode on at a slow pace, so as to allow their horses'

hoofs to emit the least possible sound, till they arrived at a deep archway, into the recesses of which not a ray of light penetrated. Here the stranger, in sable garments, with his companion, Manoel, took their posts, their horses' heads turned towards the road, so as to sally forth at a moment's notice. This was the ambush nearest the residence of the young Marchioness of Tavora. A little further on, a lane between high walls turned off to the right, and towards it Policarpio and Antonio directed their course; the two other unknown hors.e.m.e.n pa.s.sing further on to another place of concealment.

"Halt here, my friend," said Policarpio; "we shall not have long to wait; this is the best place we could have selected. As soon as the deed is done, follow me down the lane, and we will make a circuit to the Quinta."

"How is it there are so many engaged in the work; I thought we three only were to be privy to it?" observed Antonio.

"The man has many foes," was the laconic reply. "Now silence."

Slow seemed the hours of darkness to lag along over the heads of the intended a.s.sa.s.sins. It was a time of the most harrowing anxiety, of doubts and fears to them all. During the bright glare of day, or when excited by wine and conversation, they had contemplated the deed as a duty they were called on to perform; but now, on the silent watch, when the moment for action was drawing on, they felt that they were about to commit a deed such as would, if discovered, hold them up to the execration of mankind. Darkness, which serves to cloak a crime from the eyes of others, reveals it to the startled conscience of the criminal in its native deformity. In vain each man sought to banish the voice which rung in his ear--Murder! murder!--but that mocking voice would not be silenced; and yet it was a useless warning, for each had resolved to do the deed, and now it was too late to fly; besides, when one would have done so, the thought of the reward to be reaped rose up in his mind, and determined him to persevere in spite of all consequences.

Policarpio listened eagerly for the expected sound of the carriage-wheels. "Ah! he comes," he muttered, as a low rattling noise at a distance was heard; and even he, cool and hardened villain as he was, felt his heart beat quicker, and he drew in his breath at the thought of what he was about to do; he felt almost a relief from suffering as the noise died away in a different direction. The clear ringing sound from the clock of a neighbouring church now struck; he listened attentively to mark the hour--one, two; he counted on--ten, eleven, and no more. He must have been mistaken; he thought it was much later. Another dreadful hour of suspense must elapse, for their intended victim was not expected to pa.s.s till nearly twelve o'clock, and he was sometimes much later. His doubts were soon set at rest, for another clock, at a greater distance, now gave forth the hour of eleven.

Thus they waited, sometimes supposing that their enemy had not paid his usual visit; that he might have taken another road, or that, by some mysterious chance, he had been forewarned. There was one among those midnight a.s.sa.s.sins whose fierce and fiery temper could ill brook this delay, and, as he sat on his horse beneath the arch, he gnashed his teeth with impatience, and grasping a pistol in his hand, longed for the moment to use it. Twelve o'clock struck, and scarcely had the sound from the last stroke of the bell died away on the calm midnight air, when a carriage was heard rapidly approaching. Each of the a.s.sa.s.sins gathered in his rein, and more firmly grasped his weapons to prepare for action. There could be now no further doubt--another minute and their victim would be in their power!

Onward came the carriage. It approached the dark archway; it had scarcely pa.s.sed it, when the stranger in black, followed by Manoel, dashed forward, discharging his pistol at the head of the postilion; but the piece missed fire, as did that of his companion.

"Curses on the weapon," he cried, raising his carabine, as the carriage dashed by; he fired, but the ball took no effect.

"Forbear! forbear!" shouted the postilion, as he drove on; "'tis the King you are firing at!"

He had just uttered the words, when Policarpio and his companion rode furiously towards him; the former discharging a pistol, but without effect. On their approach, he was seen to turn rapidly round before Policarpio could come up with him, and to drive down a steep and rugged path, towards the river.

"Fire!" shouted Policarpio to his companion, as they galloped after the carriage. "Fire! or they will escape us!" and, at the same moment, both discharged their pieces at the back of the carriage. A loud cry was heard, but they could not further tell the effect of their shots, for the postilion, driving for his own life, as well as that of his master, if he had escaped destruction, urged on his mules at a furious pace beyond their reach, before they had time to reload their fire-arms.

"What shots are those?" cried a voice from a window above them.

"Murder! murder!"

The sound struck terror into the bosoms of the guilty a.s.sa.s.sins; and, turning their horses, they galloped off from the spot, by the roads previously agreed on, fancying that they were closely pursued. Onward they dashed, the dying shriek of their victim ringing in their ears, mixed with unearthly sounds--it seemed like the mocking laughter of demons. But at that time they dreaded not the supernatural powers half so much as the anger of man; him they had made their enemy, and now detection was what they most feared. "Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be shed," was the rigid law to which they had become amenable. No obstacles stopped them in their course. Their steeds, as if conscious of their masters' haste, leapt fearlessly over the fragments of ruins which, in many places, strewed the road. With bridle and spur their riders kept them up, for a fall would have thrown them into the power of their fancied pursuers. After making a considerable circuit, Policarpio and Antonio approached the stable where they were to leave their horses. Leaping from his horse, Policarpio opened the door of the stable, for they were the first arrived, and entered, ordering his companion to follow, and to take off the saddles from their steeds.

Having placed the horses in their stalls, they waited the return of the other two, in anxious expectation. Some minutes elapsed, and yet they arrived not.

"Can they have been seized?" muttered Policarpio to himself; "if so, all is lost, and I must make my escape."

"We have made Teixeira pay dearly for his insolence," said Antonio Ferreira. "Think you he could possibly have escaped? We sent shot enough through the carriage to kill most men."

"Think you we should have run all this risk, and taken so much trouble, merely to kill a vile wretch as he is? But talk not of it again. We aimed at far higher game than he is; he may have been within, for it was his carriage; but it was not his paltry life we aimed at. It is the King we have killed!"

"Heaven pardon me!" exclaimed Antonio, in a trembling voice; "I thought not to have done such a deed!"

"Bah! this is no time for repentance," answered Policarpio. "What is the difference between one man's life and another's. You have done your master a greater service than you thought. But silence; some one may overhear us: the devil has quick ears."

They waited some time longer for their companions.

"I fear me, Manoel and your friend have been captured," whispered Antonio.

"If so, we shall to a certainty be betrayed; and in flight is our only chance of safety. Adeos! friend Antonio. I shall take one course, and you may take another. This country will be no longer a safe abode for either of us."

He went, as he spoke, to the door of the stable, and was about to hasten away, when he heard the sound of horses approaching, and directly after, the masked stranger, with Manoel, rode up. The former leaping to the ground, gave the reins to Policarpio. "I shall return homeward on foot," he said. "Let silence and discretion be your motto, my friends, and you are safe; you shall not be forgotten." And the stranger in black disappeared in the obscurity. Having relieved the horses from their saddles, and well fed them, Policarpio, with his two friends, returned to the Quinta.

As they entered a room, where lights were burning, they gazed at each other's pale and haggard countenances, on which guilt had already stamped its indelible marks. Conscience-struck, they scarce dared to speak of the deed they had done. Policarpio was the first to recover his usual daring.

"Come, my friends," he cried, filling for himself a b.u.mper of wine, "banish these childish fears. Here's to the health of the next King who shall reign over us, and may he prove a better master than the last!"

His companions endeavoured in vain to imitate his careless bearing, though, at his desire, they gladly pledged him.

"Ah!" he continued, "to-morrow the whole city will ring with this night's work! but no one will suspect us of the deed; and if they do, it matters little--we shall be above all fear of punishment."

"I wish it were not done," muttered Antonio; "I thought not to kill the King."

"I pray we have not missed doing so," answered Policarpio. "Curses on the weapons that failed when most required."

"Who were those who accompanied us," asked Manoel; "they seemed not of low degree?"

"That matters not, friend," responded Policarpio; "you will gain your reward, and seek not to know more."

Fearful of returning home, the two servants of the Marquis of Tavora threw themselves, overcome with fatigue, on the ground; but sleep visited not the murderers' eyes that night, their victim's shriek still rung in their ears, and their guilty hearts still beat with fears of the future.

Volume 3, Chapter IX.

In a large saloon, richly furnished with every article of luxury then invented to minister to comfort or to pride, a young lady was seated on a sofa, before a table, on which had been thrown some fancy-work, with which she had been endeavouring to amuse herself. Her face was turned towards the ground, and while, her elbow resting on a cus.h.i.+on, she supported with her hand her small and delicately formed head, her other arm, of beautifully rounded proportions, hung carelessly by her side. A greyhound, of the graceful Italian race, and of pure fawn colour, was leaping up and licking her fingers, in a vain endeavour to attract her attention to himself. A lamp, which hung from the lofty ceiling, (for it was night,) cast a bright light upon her high and polished brow, from which her hair, as was the fas.h.i.+on, was drawn back; and it seemed that those long silken eyelashes of jet, which scarce concealed the l.u.s.tre of her eyes, cast down though they were, were glistening with tears. One of her small feet, on which she wore a high-heeled satin shoe, resting on a cus.h.i.+on, an ankle of the most slender proportions was revealed.

Her gown was of the richest flowered silk; her whole costume, indeed, notwithstanding that she was thus alone and sad, was arranged with the greatest elegance and care.

More than once a deep-drawn sigh escaped her, as her bosom heaved with agitated throbbings, which in vain she endeavoured to calm. Alas!

lovely and young as she was, anguish was at her heart; for an accusing conscience was already at work within. Yet were others far more guilty--traitors doubly d.a.m.ned, who walked abroad in the well-sustained characters of honest men; while she, the betrayed, the abandoned wife, was left to mourn alone, or to receive the treacherous consolations of the subtle seducer, a licensed prey to the slanderous tongues of the malignant.

Time pa.s.sed on, yet she stirred not from her position; nor did any of her domestics enter to interrupt her solitude. Her little dog had desisted from his attempts to gain her notice, and, weary with his gambols, had lain himself down at her feet, yet anxiously watching to win a look of encouragement from her eye. A clock, on a side table, had some time given notice that it wanted but two hours to midnight, when the Italian greyhound lifted his broad falling ears, half rising from his rec.u.mbent position. In a few seconds more, the noise which had first aroused him was reiterated, and, leaping up, he ran towards the door, uttering a shrill bark, again running back to his mistress.

"Lie down, my pretty Fiel, lie down," the dog instantly obeying her.

"Ah! you will not too desert your mistress," she said, and relapsed into her former thoughtful mood.

The next moment the door opened slowly--so silently, that the lady did not look up; but her four-footed companion bounded forward, and leapt up fawningly on a gentleman who entered, of a dignified figure, dressed in a handsome costume, with a sword with a richly jewelled hilt by his side. He allowed his hand to caress the little dog, as he advanced close to the lady, and p.r.o.nounced the name of "Theresa!"

The lady starting, with marked confusion, instantly rose, making one step towards him; while he, stooping low, took her unresisting hand with respectful devotion, imprinting on it a kiss: he then led her back to the sofa, and seated himself by her side, gazing with deep admiration on her lovely countenance, now softened by an expression of melancholy which rather increased than dimmed its attractions.

"Theresa, in spite of your commands, your wishes, I could not resist the temptations of my heart again to visit you. I come to entreat you to withdraw your cruel prohibitions, which must reduce me to despair," and the stranger knelt at the feet of Donna Theresa de Tavora.

"Rise, in mercy rise!" she exclaimed, with a trembling voice. "Your Majesty must not thus kneel to a subject."

"I will not rise till I know from those sweet lips that I am forgiven for my fault," answered the King, in a tone of tender pa.s.sion; for he it was who thus took advantage of the forced absence of her husband to urge his criminal suit.

"Your Majesty has committed no fault which I have power to forgive,"

returned the Marchioness; "'tis I alone who am to blame for having dared to cherish a sentiment--for having owned that unhappy love which has attracted your Majesty hither.--Rise, Sire, I must not see you thus."

"Your words afford balm to my bruised heart," answered the King, in an enraptured tone, again placing himself by her side; but she gently withdrew her hand from his clasp.

"Your Majesty mistakes my meaning," she said, with a vain attempt at firmness; for her lips quivered as she spoke. "Hear me, my liege: it is not on my own account I speak; for myself, I have no longer the power to retract. You know too well the secret of my heart; from henceforth my lot is one of sorrow and remorse: but it is for your Majesty's sake, I beseech you to come hither no more. There is a danger in it which I may not--I dare not reveal, so terrible that I tremble at the thought alone."

"For your sake, sweet one, I would brave all danger," answered the King, with a gallant bow and a smile of incredulity; then suddenly changing his tone, he added, "Surely no one would venture to lift his arm against our person? Speak lady, does your husband meditate revenge, that we have more highly appreciated those matchless charms than himself?"