At the cross-roads on the northern side of the river the two carriages parted company, the dusty equipage of General Vincente taking the road to Aranjuez that leads to the right and mounts steadily1 through olive groves2. The other carriage—which, despite its plain and sombre colours, still had an air of grandeur3 and almost of royalty4, with its great wheels and curved springs—turned to the left and headed for Toledo. Behind it clattered5 a dozen troopers, picked men, with huge swinging swords and travel-stained clothes. The dust rose in a cloud under the horses’ feet and hovered6 in the sullen7 air. There was no breath of wind, and the sun shone through a faint haze8 which seemed only to add to the heat.
Concha lowered the window and thrust forward his long inquiring nose.
‘What is it?’ asked the General.
‘Thunder—I smell it. We shall have a storm to-night.’ He looked out mopping his brow. ‘Name of a saint! how thick the air is.’
And the carriage rattled10 on towards the city of strife11, where Jew, Goth and Roman, Moor12 and Inquisitor, have all had their day. Estella was silent, drooping13 with fatigue14. The General alone seemed unmoved and heedless of the heat—a man of steel, as bright and ready as his own sword.
There is no civilised country in the world so bare as Spain, and no part of the Peninsula so sparsely16 populated as the Castiles. The road ran for the most part over brown and barren uplands, with here and there a valley where wheat and olives and vineyards graced the lower slopes. The crying need of all nature was for shade; for the ilex is a small-leaved tree giving a thin shadow with no cool depths amid the branches. All was brown and barren and parched18. The earth seemed to lie fainting and awaiting the rain. The horses trotted20 with extended necks and open mouths, their coats wet with sweat. The driver—an Andalusian, with a face like a Moorish21 pirate—kept encouraging them with word and rein22, jerking and whipping only when they seemed likely to fall from sheer fatigue and sun-weariness. At last the sun began to set in a glow like that of a great furnace, and the reflection lay over the land in ruddy splendour.
‘Ah!’ said Concha, looking out, ‘it will be a great storm—and it will soon come.’
Vast columns of cloud were climbing up from the sunset into a sullen sky, thrown up in spreading mares’ tails by a hundred contrary gusts23 of wind, as if there were explosive matter in the great furnace of the west.
‘Nature is always on my side,’ said Vincente, with his chuckling24 laugh. He sat, watch in hand, noting the passage of the kilometres.
At last the sun went down behind a distant line of hill—the watershed25 of the Tagus—and immediately the air was cool. Without stopping, the driver wrapped his cloak round him, and the troopers followed his example. A few minutes later a cold breeze sprung up suddenly, coming from the north and swirling26 the dust high in the air.
‘It is well,’ said Vincente, who assuredly saw good in everything; ‘the wind comes first, and therefore the storm will be short.’
‘It is almost like guns,’ he added, with a queer look in his eyes suggestive of some memory.
Then, preceded by a rushing wind, the rain came, turning to hail, and stopping suddenly in a breathless pause, only to recommence with a renewed and splashing vigour28. Concha drew up the windows, and the water streamed down them in a continuous ripple29. Estella, who had been sleeping, roused herself. She looked fresh, and her eyes were bright with excitement. She had brought home with her from her English school that air of freshness and a dainty vigour which makes Englishwomen different from all other women in the world, and an English schoolgirl one of the brightest, purest, and sweetest of God’s creatures.
Concha looked at her with his grim smile—amused at a youthfulness which could enable her to fall asleep at such a time and wake up so manifestly refreshed.
A halt was made at a roadside venta, where the travellers partook of a hurried meal. Darkness came on before the horses were sufficiently30 rested, and by the light of an ill-smelling lamp the General had his inevitable31 cup of coffee. The rain had now ceased, but the sky remained overcast32 and the night was a dark one. The travellers took their places in the carriage, and again the monotony of the road, the steady trot19 of the horses, the sing-song words of encouragement of their driver, monopolised the thoughts of sleepy minds. It seemed to Estella that life was all journeys, and that she had been on the road for years. The swing of the carriage, the little varieties of the road, but served to add to her somnolence33. She only half woke up when, about ten o’clock, a halt was made to change horses, and the General quitted the carriage for a few minutes to talk earnestly with two horsemen, who were apparently34 awaiting their arrival. No time was lost here, and the carriage went forward with an increased escort. The two new-comers rode by the carriage, one on either side.
When Estella woke up, the moon had risen and the carriage was making slow progress up a long hill. She noticed that a horseman was on either side, close by the carriage window.
‘Who is that?’ she asked.
‘Conyngham,’ replied the General.
‘You sent for him?’ inquired Estella, in a hard voice.
‘Yes.’
Estella was wakeful enough now, and sat upright, looking straight in front of her. At times she glanced towards the window, which was now open, where the head of Conyngham’s charger appeared. The horse trotted steadily, with a queer jerk of the head and that willingness to do his best which gains for horses a place in the hearts of all who have to do with them.
‘Will there be fighting?’ asked Estella suddenly.
‘One cannot call it fighting. There may be a disturbance36 in the streets,’ he answered.
Concha, quiet in his corner, with his back to the horses, watched the girl, and saw that her eyes were wide with anxiety now—quite suddenly. She, who had never thought of fear till this moment. She moved uneasily in her seat, fidgeting as the young ever do when troubled. It is only with years that we learn to bear a burden quietly.
‘Who is that?’ she asked shortly, pointing to the other window, which was closed.
‘Concep?ion Vara—Conyngham’s servant,’ replied the General, who for some reason was inclined to curtness37 in his speech.
They were approaching Toledo, and passed through a village from time to time, where the cafés were still lighted up, and people seemed to be astir in the shadow of the houses. At last, in the main thoroughfare of a larger village within a stage of Toledo, a final halt was made to change horses. The street, dimly lighted by a couple of oil lamps swinging from gibbets at the corners of a crossroad, seemed to be peopled by shadows surreptitiously lurking38 in doorways39. There was a false air of quiet in the houses, and peeping eyes looked out from behind the bars that covered every window, for even modern Spanish houses are barred as if for a siege, and in the ancient villages every man’s house is indeed his castle.
The driver had left the box, and seemed to be having some trouble with the ostlers and stable-helps; for his voice could be heard raised in anger and urging them to greater haste.
Conyngham, motionless in the saddle, touched his horse with his heel, advancing a few paces so as to screen the window. Concep?ion, on the other side, did the same, so that the travellers in the interior of the vehicle saw but the dark shape of the horses and the long cloaks of their riders. They could perceive Conyngham quickly throw back his cape40 in order to have a free hand. Then there came the sound of scuffling feet and an indefinable sense of strife in the very air.
‘But we will see—we will see who is in the carriage!’ cried a shrill41 voice, and a hoarse42 shout from many bibulous43 throats confirmed the desire.
And the carriage swayed as the man leapt to his place. Estella made a movement to look out of the window, but Concha had stood up against it, opposing his broad back alike to curious glances or a knife or a bullet. At the other window the General, better versed45 in such matters, held the leather cushion upon which he had been sitting across the sash. With his left hand he restrained Estella.
‘Keep still,’ he said. ‘Sit back. Conyngham can take care of himself.’
The carriage swayed forward, and a volley of stones rattled on it like hail. It rose jerkily on one side, and bumped over some obstacle.
‘One who has his quietus,’ said Concha; ‘these royal carriages are heavy.’
The horses were galloping46 now. Concha sat down rubbing his back. Conyngham was galloping by the window, and they could see his spur flashing in the moonlight as he used it. The reins hung loose, and both his hands were employed elsewhere, for he had a man half across the saddle in front of him, who held to him with one arm thrown round his neck, while the other was raised and a gleam of steel was at the end of it. Concep?ion, from the other side, threw a knife over the roof of the carriage—he could hit a cork48 at twenty paces but he missed this time.
The General, from within, leant across Estella, sword in hand, with gleaming eyes. But Conyngham seemed to have got the hold he desired, for his assailant came suddenly swinging over the horse’s neck, and one of his flying heels crashed through the window by Concha’s head, making that ecclesiastic49 swear like any layman50. The carriage was lifted on one side again, and bumped heavily.
‘Another,’ said Concha, looking for broken glass in the folds of his cassock. ‘That is a pretty trick of Conyngham’s.’
‘And the man is a horseman,’ added the General, sheathing51 his sword—‘a horseman. It warms the heart to see it.’
Then he leant out of the window and asked if any were hurt.
‘I am afraid, Excellency, that I hurt one,’ answered Vara. ‘Where the neck joins the shoulder. It is a pretty spot for the knife—nothing to turn a point.’
He rubbed a sulphur match on the leg of his trouser, and lighted a cigarette as he rode along.
‘On our side no accidents,’ continued Vara, with a careless grandeur, ‘unless the reverendo received a kick in the face.’
‘The reverendo received a stone in the small of the back,’ growled52 Concha pessimistically, ‘where there was already a corner of lumbago.’
Conyngham, standing53 in his stirrups, was looking back. A man lay motionless on the road, and beyond, at the cross-roads, another was riding up a hill to the right at a hand gallop47.
‘It is the road to Madrid,’ said Concep?ion, noting the direction of the Englishman’s glance.
The General, leaning out of the carriage window, was also looking back anxiously.
‘They have sent a messenger to Madrid, Excellency, with the news that the Queen is on the road to Toledo,’ said Concep?ion.
‘It is well,’ answered Vincente, with a laugh.
As they journeyed, although it was nearly midnight, there appeared from time to time, and for the most part in the neighbourhood of a village, one who seemed to have been awaiting their passage, and immediately set out on foot or horseback by one of the shorter bridle-paths that abound54 in Spain. No one of these spies escaped the notice of Concep?ion, whose training amid the mountains of Andalusia had sharpened his eyesight and added keenness to every sense.
At last the lights of Toledo hove in sight, and across the river came the sound of the city clocks tolling55 the hour.
‘Midnight,’ said Concha. ‘And all respectable folk are in their beds. At night all cats are grey.’
No one heeded56 him. Estella was sitting upright, bright-eyed and wakeful. The General looked out of the window at every moment. Across the river they could see lights moving, and many houses that had been illuminated57 were suddenly dark.
‘See,’ said the General, leaning out of the window and speaking to Conyngham, ‘they have heard the sound of our wheels.’
At the farther end of the Bridge of Alcantara, on the road which now leads to the railway station, two horsemen were stationed, hidden in the shadow of the trees that border the pathway.
‘Those should be Guardias Civiles,’ said Concep?ion, who had studied the ways of those gentry58 all his life. ‘But they are not. They have horses that have never been taught to stand still.’
As he spoke the men vanished, moving noiselessly in the thick dust which lay on the Madrid road.
The General saw them go—and smiled. These men carried word to their fellows in Madrid for the seizure59 of the little Queen. But before they could reach the capital the Queen Regent herself would be there—a woman in a thousand, of inflexible60 nerve, of infinite resource.
The carriage rattled over the narrow bridge which rings hollow to the sound of wheels. It passed under the gate that Wamba built and up the tree-girt incline to the city. The streets were deserted61, and no window showed a light. A watchman in his shelter, at the corner by the synagogue, peered at them over the folds of his cloak, and noting the clank of scabbard against spur, paid no further heed15 to a traveller who took the road with such outward signs of authority.
‘It is still enough—and quiet,’ said Concha, looking out.
‘As quiet as a watching cat,’ replied Vincente.
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1
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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2
groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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4
royalty
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| n.皇家，皇族 | |
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clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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6
hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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7
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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9
optimist
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| n.乐观的人，乐观主义者 | |
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10
rattled
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| 慌乱的，恼火的 | |
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11
strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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12
moor
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| n.荒野，沼泽；vt.(使)停泊；vi.停泊 | |
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13
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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14
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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15
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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16
sparsely
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| adv.稀疏地；稀少地；不足地；贫乏地 | |
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17
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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18
parched
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| adj.焦干的；极渴的；v.（使）焦干 | |
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19
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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20
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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21
moorish
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| adj.沼地的，荒野的，生[住]在沼地的 | |
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22
rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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23
gusts
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| 一阵强风( gust的名词复数 )； （怒、笑等的）爆发； （感情的）迸发； 发作 | |
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24
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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25
watershed
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| n.转折点，分水岭，分界线 | |
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26
swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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27
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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28
vigour
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| （=vigor）n.智力，体力，精力 | |
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29
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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30
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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31
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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32
overcast
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| adj.阴天的，阴暗的，愁闷的；v.遮盖，（使）变暗，包边缝；n.覆盖，阴天 | |
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33
somnolence
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| n.想睡，梦幻；欲寐；嗜睡；嗜眠 | |
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34
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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35
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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36
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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37
curtness
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| n.简短；草率；简略 | |
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38
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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39
doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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40
cape
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| n.海角，岬；披肩，短披风 | |
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41
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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42
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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43
bibulous
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| adj.高度吸收的，酗酒的 | |
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44
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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45
versed
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| adj. 精通，熟练 | |
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46
galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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47
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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48
cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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49
ecclesiastic
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| n.教士，基督教会；adj.神职者的，牧师的，教会的 | |
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50
layman
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| n.俗人，门外汉，凡人 | |
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51
sheathing
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| n.覆盖物，罩子v.将（刀、剑等）插入鞘( sheathe的现在分词 )；包，覆盖 | |
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52
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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53
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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54
abound
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| vi.大量存在；(in，with)充满，富于 | |
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55
tolling
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| [财]来料加工 | |
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56
heeded
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的过去式和过去分词 )；变平，使（某物）变平( flatten的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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57
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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58
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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59
seizure
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| n.没收；占有；抵押 | |
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60
inflexible
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| adj.不可改变的，不受影响的，不屈服的 | |
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61
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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