HOW THE ARMY OF RODRIGO MARCHED BACK TO BURGOS WITHOUT BEING WEARIED, AS THE READER MAY BE

The conversation of the squires and pages was resumed when Fernan overtook them.

"We were talking of the girls you were in love with," said Alvar, "but did you ever seek out Beatrice, to pay your attentions to her again?"

"I have sought to soften her, but in vain," replied Fernan. "Every time I go to the castle of Vivar, I have to pass near the farmhouse of Pero, and the devil sometimes tempts me to go in; and I cannot look on Beatrice without burning myself with her eyes. But she, the ungrateful hussy, always puts on a most scornful look. But I am certainly astonished at such constancy in a woman, who has not seen her betrothed since she was near being carried off to Carrion, and which same gentleman seems to have forgotten her, as he takes no trouble to see her again."

"But he has seen her, my friend," replied Alvar, who, as the reader will remember, had been also in love with Beatrice, and therefore had managed to keep an eye on her, and had endeavoured to gain her affections with greater zeal even than Fernan; taking good care, however, that the latter should know nothing about it.

"What do you say, friend Alvar?" exclaimed Fernan, full of curiosity, and also somewhat angrily.

"I tell you, brother, that Martin has been at Vivar, and in the house of Pero. Mine own eyes have seen him, and mine own ears have heard Beatrice speaking to him. Know, however, comrade, that the young man is not a rustic, as people think, but a cavalier armed at all points."

"Alvar, you were always a simpleton, and imagined you saw visions. When did you see and hear that? I suppose it was after drinking too much wine in some inn."

"The night I saw and heard it there was not a drop of wine in my body."

"What night was it?"

"I will tell you how it was. I am very fond of walking at night through the fields; for when it is fine weather, and the moon shines bright, and the day has been hot"—

"I swear by Judas Iscariot! Have done with your roundabouts!" exclaimed Fernan, beginning to get impatient with the circumlocutions of which Alvar was so fond.

"I wish to say," he repeated, "that when the weather is fine, and the moon shines, and the day has been hot"—

"I swear," cried Fernan, again interrupting him, "that if you don't get quickly from the straw to the grain, you shall feel the flat of my sword. Was there ever such a stupid bore as this fellow is?"

"Pardon, friend Fernan, I shall not again abuse your patience. Well, then, you must know that, wandering one night over the fields which Pero cultivates, I heard the steps of a horse on the road that leads from Carrion. I approached it, and concealed myself behind a fence. Then I saw a horseman, well armed, approaching, and, by my faith, his steed was fit for a king—what fire, what a step! I'd swear he was of the breed of Don Suero's celebrated mare. One must be blind and stupid not to know the horses of the Grandee of Carrion."

"'Fore God! I'll break your bones if you don't get on quickly to the main point."

"Then I shall, Fernan. The cavalier dismounted at the door of Pero's house and entered—"

"And then?" asked Fernan, with impatient curiosity.

"Nothing more. How could I hear what they were saying inside?"

"I swear that the story of this fool is rather interesting," remarked Fernan.

"I could not hear what they were saying in the house, but I remained concealed behind the fence fully an hour, to see if the cavalier would come out, and if I could discover who he was by what he might say before his departure. At last I heard the door opening. Beatrice was holding a candle in the porch, and, thanks to its light, I was enabled to see what took place there. Pero and his wife embraced the cavalier, Beatrice was weeping, and I distinctly heard the name of Martin pronounced. The stranger crossed the threshold at last and mounted his horse. The young girl gave the candle to her mother, followed him a short distance from the house, and said to him, 'Martin, since you are resolved not to abandon this vengeance, do not forget that if you die in carrying it out, I also shall die of grief.' 'Trust to my love, Beatrice, and it will bring you happiness,' replied the cavalier, and he disappeared like a flash of lightning."

"And how long is it since that happened?" asked Fernan.

"I remember it as if it only happened yesterday, for I have a good memory. Memory is a valuable"—

"Alvar! make use of your memory to remember how I punish stupidities. Is it long since that happened?"

"I don't remember the exact time; but I know it was at the period when the band of the Vengador was proceeding to Burgos."

"And now that you mention the band of the Vengador," said one of the squires, "do you know the news that is going about concerning it?"

On hearing these words, all tried to get their horses as near as possible to him who pronounced them. This general anxiety to learn something of the band of the Vengador, showed that it had acquired such importance that public attention in Castile was fixed on it.

"What news of it have you?" was asked with lively curiosity.

"You must know, as has been related to me by men-at-arms coming from the neighbourhood of Carrion, that the Vengador has now got together more than three hundred bandits, and with them he not only laughs at the Salvadores, but faces them, and has even defeated them in two skirmishes, so that the Count of Carrion, seeing his district and even his castle threatened, proceeded to it with the greatest speed, having left Burgos, where he had recently fixed his residence."

"Perhaps," observed Fernan, "the bandits caused the count to leave Burgos; but the reason he went off with such rapidity was because he was afraid that the lance of my master might reach him. However, leaving that aside, for it does not much matter, can't you tell me who this Vengador is, who has gained so much fame in so short a time, and who has got together so numerous a following?"

"As to the Vengador, nobody knows who he is, as he always conceals his face when he is in the presence of persons who are not members of his band."

"I am of opinion," said Alvar, "that, as he conceals himself in that way, he must be a grandee of Leon or Castile, who has become a brigand in order to revenge himself on his enemies."

"It is more probable that he is a civilian, for it is said that he has a mortal hatred for all who call themselves noble, and that he protects the peasantry, and even shares with them what he takes from the grandees."

"But how did he manage to get together such a numerous band, when the Raposo, who is now in hell as he deserves, was never able to get more than twenty to join him."

"Well, then, the reason is—the Raposo was hated by the country people, whilst the Vengador is loved by them."

"May the devil take me if I understand you, comrade. How is it possible that a captain of bandits can be loved by either peasants or nobles?"

"It is possible, and that is proved by the fact that the Vengador has succeeded in it. The Raposo carried off women; murdered children and old people, from the peasant to the count, from the curate to the bishop; he pillaged the cabin of the labourer and the hut of the shepherd, as well as churches and palaces. Therefore all hated him, and did their utmost to deliver him up to the Salvadores, and plotted his destruction in every way they could. Who, that had any respect for his skin, would enlist under such a chief, for he who did so was also abhorred and cursed by all, and ran continual risk of his life? The Vengador acts in quite a different way; his dagger is never stained by human blood, except in self-defence, or fighting in the cause of the helpless, unjustly oppressed by the strong; the poor man can leave the door of his cottage open; the muleteer can travel safely along the loneliest roads, as there is no danger of the band of the Vengador depriving him of his humble possessions. Inquire how many women the band of the Vengador has carried off, how many churches he has pillaged, and you will be told that such outrages are unknown in the districts which it frequents, since the time that the Salvadores destroyed the band of the Raposo."

"Then if the band of the Vengador does not commit robberies," observed Alvar, "I hold to my opinion, that its captain is some rich grandee; how else could he have money to support it?"

"He does commit robberies, brother; but he does not rob poor people. The Vengador attacks the mansions of the rich and takes from them all that he can. With that he maintains his band, and when he has more than he wants for that purpose, he relieves the necessities of the poor people in his vicinity. That is why the peasants love and respect him; and his band can encamp wherever he likes, without any risk of falling into the hands of the Salvadores. And for the same reasons the number of his followers increases from day to day."

They were still speaking of the band of the Vengador when Alvar, who was fond of saying what he considered witty things, but which were generally very foolish, took it into his head to say something which he believed would create a sensation amongst his companions.

"My friends," he remarked to them, with much mystery, "I desire to impart a piece of news which I believe won't be such for some of you."

All the squires and pages stopped at once their sprightly conversations, in order to listen to what Alvar had to reveal to them.

"My mistress, the Senora Ximena, bears the reputation of being an irreproachable lady throughout all Castile; is not that so?"

"Certainly, and with good reason," was the universal answer; and Fernan added—

"And if any calumniator were to cast a doubt on the honour of my lady, I have a lance here to convince him of it."

"It is not me who would calumniate her," continued Alvar in the same mysterious manner; "but I must tell you that my master, Don Rodrigo, although he has only just got married, and never had any sweetheart but DoÑa Ximena, has a son, a fine little chap."

"I vow by Judas Iscariot!" exclaimed Fernan, seizing his lance, fire flashing from his eyes. "What is that you dare to say, you villain, you traitor? Does your scorpion tongue dare to calumniate your mistress, the most honoured lady, not alone of Spain, but of the entire world? For this ingratitude to those who supply you with the bread you eat, you shall die, traitor that you are!"

Saying this, he made a thrust of his lance at Alvar, forcible enough to pierce a wall; but his anger blinded the squire, and caused him to miss his aim; to this also contributed a rapid movement of the page, who threw himself back on his saddle-bow just as Fernan was giving the thrust.

All those who saw what had occurred hastened to pacify the enraged squire, some with words and others by seizing his arms from behind.

"Let me go, let me go!" cried Fernan, struggling to get free, so that he might attack Alvar again, who hardly had breath to excuse himself. At last they quieted him down a little, and he said in threatening accents to the page—

"Speak, you rascally traitor, and retract the calumnies that you have dared to utter against the most honoured of women. If you don't do so at once, I'll spit you on my lance like a sucking pig."

"Calm your anger, Fernan," murmured the page at last "It was not in my mind to stain the characters of my lord and lady, but to praise the compassionate and kind heart of Don Rodrigo."

"Confound you for a stupid chatterer: have I not told you a hundred times that your roundabout way of stating the most simple facts would certainly get you into trouble some day or other?" said Fernan, understanding at last what the page had intended to convey in his would-be witty style. "Speak out, you fool, and tell us what son it is that our master has."

"The little Moor that he picked up after the battle, when you left us to run after the four big Moors to the ditch into which your horse fell. That is what I was going to speak about, and I was only having a little joke with you, in order to excite your curiosity."

"I swear to you, Alvar," said Fernan, brandishing his lance, "that such jokes may cost you dear, if you persist in them. A respectable page or squire can be pleasant without defaming the honour of anyone, and least of all that of ladies, for even the purest cannot escape calumny."

"And I swear to you," replied Alvar, "that from this day forward I will cut out my tongue rather than say, even in jest, a word against either my mistress or master. My discretion with regard to speaking about people will increase, but my affection for those we both serve can never be greater than it is. But, returning to the little Moor, whom my master has adopted, what has become of him, that we do not see him?"

"He is coming along amongst the captives," answered Fernan; "and, by my faith, neither he, nor the Moorish kings who have been taken prisoners, can complain, for they are carried in litters, as if they were going to the court as conquerors."

"God save us!" exclaimed Alvar; "my master does things, and I am a Moor if I understand them. Some of the Christians are jogging along on horseback, with sore bones, and others are blistering their feet on these roads, hard as those of purgatory, and the Moors are quite comfortable in soft litters."

"You fool, and a hundred times more than a fool, who has given you authority to find fault with what our master does?" interrupted Fernan. "He is so good a subject that he respects even Moors when they bear the name of king,—even though they may be greater Moors than Mahomet himself."

"However, if they were kings before they were conquered, they are now no longer such."

"Good cavaliers, like our master, have more respect for a conquered enemy than for one whom they have still to conquer. No doubt those kings entered our territories pillaging and slaying, but they believed that they were right in doing so, just as we would think the same if we invaded their kingdoms. As to the Moorish child, would you yourself like to see him painfully toiling on amid the legs of our horses. The heart of our master is as tender towards the weak as it is stern towards the strong, and he has thought and acted in a different manner. That poor boy, who has seen his father die before his eyes, and who is being brought into a foreign country at the mercy of strangers, is very unfortunate. On account of his grief and despair, Don Rodrigo ordered that he should be carried in the litter of one of the kings, as the company of one of his own race would naturally be more pleasing to him than that of a stranger. You will see how our mistresses, DoÑa Teresa and DoÑa Ximena, will console him when he arrives at Burgos, with those blessed words which they have always ready, to give joy to the sad and consolation to the wretched."

With conversations such as these the squires and pages were proceeding onward, when Rodrigo and those who accompanied him stopped on an extensive plain, at a short distance from Burgos, from which several roads branched off in various directions. According as the different bodies of warriors arrived, they halted in that place, and, when they were all reunited, Rodrigo summoned together the leaders, in order to proceed to the division of the spoils, according to the rules which were observed on such occasions.

As the spoils were numerous and valuable, everyone got a good share, which, with the fact that the division was fair and equitable, contributed much to the satisfaction and pleasure of all who participated in them.

After this the army broke up, each captain marching off his men to his own district. All of them, when departing, bade farewell to Rodrigo with loud and prolonged cheers.

It is almost unnecessary to add that, if the captains of the various bands received such valuable shares of the spoils, that portion which their general, Rodrigo, received was very rich indeed. He then proceeded to Burgos with all that had been allotted to him, bringing on amongst the captives the five Moorish kings, who, according to the "Chronicle," on arriving at Burgos, knelt with great respect before Teresa and Ximena, who were very pleased and contented therewith, and praised the Lord God, weeping with joy on account of the brave deeds which Rodrigo had performed.