Читать книгу The Siege of Malta (St. Elmo) - S. Fowler Wright - Страница 9

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After Don Manuel’s departure, Angelica saw that the decisive hour of her life had come. By the break of dawn, the two galleys would have sailed away, and, if she were left behind, she would be doomed to the convent life to which she was more averse as its shadow fell more imminently upon her. While it had seemed a distant and yet inescapable certainty, she had endured it mainly by refusing it the tribute of thought, as one in health may reject the terror of death, though reason cannot doubt that it must be faced at last. But at the near threat of some fatal malady—at the possibility that it may be avoided—or overcome—how different will the feelings be!

So with Angelica had the vague avoided terror become real and near; and, at this extremity, the resignation with which the inevitable might have been faced had broken down as the possibility of escape, however faint, had invaded her mind.

Now she saw two possible sources of flight: to persuade Señor Ramegas to take her on the Santa Anna to Malta, or Francisco upon the Santa Martha, of which he was to have command, though under the authority of the older and more experienced captain.

But when she considered the possibility of persuading Ramegas to the granting of such permission, her reason told her that it was no more than a baseless hope. Even if she could obtain his sympathy for such a project (which was unlikely enough) his sense of fealty to her uncle would forbid the possibility that he should assist her to defy his authority in such a manner. And even if he could have been persuaded to do so, she saw that it was not fair to petition for that which would involve his own certain disgrace. For Don Manuel was not one who would hear excuse if his authority were defied.

The better, if not the only, chance lay in persuading Francisco that she would not take the veil—or, at least, not at this time—and that she was resolved to help the need of Malta in an extremity in which even women must have some functions they could fulfil.

She considered also boarding his ship at the last hour, and announcing that she was resolved to go, without asking his consent, but the thought that there would be no cabin reserved for her use, no female companion such as she designed to have, and the fear above all that she might be put ashore with the ignominy of force, if Ramegas should be consulted on such an issue, deterred her effectually. For, in her more feminine way, her pride was no less than that of Francisco or Don Manuel himself. She might brave danger, she might face the unknown with courage; but the fear of failure and ridicule were less easy to overcome.

In the same spirit, she saw that, if she should fail in resolution or power of persuasion now: if the ships should sail at the dawn and she should still be under the castle roof, she would surely go to the Convent of Holy Cross on the next day without showing that it was not cheerfully or even willingly done. It would be intolerable to her pride to remain there in passive, futile rebellion until, sooner or later, her uncle should come again and compel her to that which she had tried in vain to avoid.

On this determination she sought her cousin, and found that it would not be easy to make a favourable opportunity for the interview she desired. Two days before, she could have had his society at any hour. But how great was the difference that that time had made!

She sought him at last on the deck of the Santa Martha, through the crowded haste of the quay, to be told, after a time of enquiry that had produced only doubtful or contradictory answers, that he was with Señor Ramegas in the cabin of the other ship, so that she must wait his return, having no wish to go to him there.

And when he came he was in haste and a ruffled mood, for Ramegas had told him of more than one error into which he had fallen through inexperience and slowness to consult one who was his superior officer now, and had made it clear that their ranks held something more than a nominal difference. He had to learn that, though he was Don Manuel’s nephew, Admiral of the Fleet was a position he had not yet gained.

“Francisco, can we talk somewhere alone?”

“What is it now?” he exclaimed, with an impatience which, to his cousin at least, he would rarely show. “I have much to do. We sail before dawn.”

Angelica thought it best to be straight and bold. “I am coming with you,” she said. “I want a cabin for my use, and one for a maid whom I shall bring.”

A moment before, she had had the sense of being forgotten or pushed aside, which she had experienced at the morning meal, but there was no doubt that she had his attention now.

“Coming with us! How can you do that? It is to-morrow you are riding to Holy Cross.”

“But that can wait. It has done so for eight years. Should not all help at this great need at which Malta lies? There is work for women as well as men in a leaguered town.”

“Have you our uncle’s word that you come?”

“He had much else of which he must think. I would not vex him with smaller things.”

“You will vex him more if you come here when he thinks you at Holy Cross. As to cabins, do you know that we are to bear more than eight hundred men on this ship, and that it is laden with stores? And every hour I hear of more that must come. The men of most rank must lie in a crowded way. The slaves must sleep where they pull.

“Does Señor Ramegas know this? Then you must talk to him. I am nothing here. He would have me ask whether I am to go out by the stern.”

“It would be useless to ask him. You must know that. Francis, I cannot go to that tomb at so great a time. I must come with you.”

Francisco heard the pleading note in his cousin’s voice and considered her request in a more serious way. As he did so, he regained the self-control that he had been near to lose as he came from Ramegas’ cabin a few minutes before.

“I would have you here,” he said, “with a blithe heart, but I see not how. If we would do this, and let there be wrath at a later day, yet I see not how to contrive. If I should find a cabin for you, there would be those who must be turned out, and they would not keep their tongues still for an hour.

“There are some who are sore now, and have taken tales to Señor Ramegas of how I would have them lie, which I must change, though I know not how.

“It could not be done without the knowledge coming to him and, as I think, it will be better to ask him now. He would not endure that we plan it without his will. You should ask him first. It is a small chance, or else none.”

“Well,” she said, “I will do that.” She had no hope, but she saw that there was no other way.

She went on to the Santa Anna and found its commander upon the poop. He observed her at once, seeming to have more leisure than her cousin, and to be aware of all that went on without disturbing the calm of his own mind. He met her with grave rebuke that she should have come seeking him thus.

“Was there none you could send? Did you not know you should not be here?” But when she said she wished to speak to him alone he took her to his own cabin and listened calmly to what she said.

She came out a few minutes later with but one thought in her mind—to keep back tears from the sight of the men among whom she must make her way. Ramegas had been patient and kind. A child’s folly had hindered his work, but he was too self-controlled to show anger for that. Also, she was a child of whom he was fond, and Don Manuel’s niece. But the thing itself was too foolish for more than a kind rebuke. He had thought her to have more sense, and that her duty would be more plain to her eyes.

When she went, he called to one he could trust to follow her back to the castle gate.

Angelica had passed through a rough crowd, and some things which were not meant for her eyes and had not been pleasant to see. But except for the slaves who were already being labelled and chained to the benches where they must row till the voyage should end, they had mostly been men she knew. And the galley-slaves had been far beneath, in the low waist of the ship.

She saw well that she would have been queen of her cousin’s ship, having all the comfort she could, among hundreds who would have run at her word. And the voyage to Malta would not be long. She would still have gone if she could; but she saw that it would not be. She had done no more than to give others a cause for jest, and to soil her pride.

When she had regained her room, and could be private to her own mood, she looked out on the harbour with eyes that were bright with tears. They were tears of anger and shame, of one who was not used to defeat. She saw Rinaldo’s galley anchored far out in the bay. Why had she not asked it of him? His galley would not be so crowded of men. There might be more comfort there. “The potent arms that you now bear.” She had a confident thought that he would not refuse to help her up the side of the ship. But she knew it to be a thing that she could not do. She did not trust him enough—or, at least, not in the right way.