The Spanish Bride (54 page)

‘Do you think that indeed?’ Juana said, fixing her eyes upon his face. ‘I hope I am not lacking in the proper respect which I owe to my uncle,’ said Betsy roundly, ‘but I declare I never heard such nonsense in my life. If you take my advice, Jenny, you will not pay the least attention!’

But Uncle Davie’s tactless words had only expressed the fear which Juana carried everywhere with her; and although she forced herself to smile at Betsy, it was plain that to do so was an effort.

The sisters became quite worried over her loss of colour, and of spirits, and of appetite. Nothing seemed to do her any good! Nothing, John Smith said, appealed to by his daughters to prescribe for poor Jenny, would do her any good until Harry came back to her. ‘Such devotion,’ said Eleanor, with a deep sigh, ‘is a lesson to us all! Do you know, papa, when she goes with us to Church, and I see her gazing before her, with such a look in her eyes, and her hands clasped so tightly over her heart, it affects me so that I am sure I do not know how I keep from bursting into tears!’

Juana went with the sisters to Church every Sunday, and afterwards for a sedate walk with them. On a Sunday, late in April, the sun was so bright, and the sky so clear, that even prudent Mary thought they might venture a little farther than usual without running any risk of being caught in a shower of rain. They were strolling along, with William and Sam to bear them company, when they suddenly perceived the gardener’s boy, a new servant, running towards them, and waving to attract their attention.

They hastened their steps to meet him, wondering what he could want, and were astonished to find that he seemed to be labouring under a strong sense of excitement. William asked him rather sharply if anything were amiss, and got the mysterious reply that he did not know, only that Master desired the Misses Smith to return directly to the house. ‘Good God, is my father ill?’ cried Eleanor.

No, Master was very well, but there was a strange gentleman arrived at the Falcon Inn in a post-chaise-and-four, who had sent for him. ‘And Master said as I must go to find the young ladies and to tell them quietly as how he wanted them to come home at once.’ ‘Oh!’ said Anna thoughtlessly. ‘Can it be that someone has brought us news of Harry?’ Juana gave a queer little sigh, and fainted.

‘Anna, how could you?’ exclaimed Eleanor, dropping down on to her knees beside Juana. Capable Betsy was already slapping Juana’s death-like cheeks, and while the two brothers, quite distracted, were still trying to think where they could most quickly procure some water, she recovered consciousness.

‘Mi Enrique. Esta muerto! El no vendra nunca, nunca!’ ‘Dearest Jenny! Dearest sister! See, it is your own Eleanor!’

‘Oh!’ Juana pressed a hand to her head. ‘I am sorry—un acto de locura!—but someone said—oh, how dreadful of me to behave so! Please give me your arm, for I am quite well, I assure you! We must go home instantly!’

‘Are you sure you are able to walk?’ Mary asked. ‘Sam can run back and fetch the carriage, you know.’

‘No, no, I cannot wait! Someone has come with news of Enrique!’

Since the others were almost as anxious as she to reach home, they did not try to dissuade her, but set off at once for St Mary’s Street. When the house came in sight, Juana let go of William’s arm, and ran ahead. The gate was standing open; as Juana reached it, a figure there was no mistaking came out of the house. ‘Mi esposo, mi esposo!’ sobbed Juana, and flung herself into Harry’s arms.

3

He had meant it all for the best, of course. So afraid had he been of startling Juana, that he had stopped his chaise at the Falcon, and had sent privately to call his father to him. How could he have foreseen that that stupid lout of a boy would blurt out his message in such a way?

‘Oh!’ said Eleanor playfully, ‘I do not know which was the greater goose, you or Papa! As though it could hurt Juana to see you, whom she has been daily, nay, hourly, expecting! Such a fright as you gave us all! We have been in a fever of anxiety, fearing you might be dead, or badly wounded!’

‘This little varmint should have known better at least!’ Harry said, holding Juana tightly in the crook of his arm. ‘Nothing ever hurts me!’

‘But you have been so long in coming!’

‘By Jupiter, I should think we have! You can blame Admiral Cochrane! No proper provisions on the ships—we had to put in at Havana for a full week, to take stores aboard!—and to crown all, he delayed communicating the news of the peace to Lambert! Oh, how I have cursed the Admirals! All of them but Malcolm, that is! But never mind! Here we are, in time for a last brush with Boney! Do you know, we hadn’t a notion of what had been happening in France until the Brazen was nearing the Bristol Channel? We had just run into the usual thick weather when we shot past a merchant-man. “Where are you from?” roars our Captain. “Portsmouth.”—“Any news?”—“No, none.” Would you believe it, the ship was almost out of sight when we heard someone shout from her: “Ho! Bonaparte’s back again on the throne of France!” Such a hurrah as I set up! “I’ll be a lieutenant-Colonel yet before the year’s out!” I said. Lambert could not bring himself to believe it! I never knew a fellow with such faith in the Government! It wasn’t until we got to Spithead that he could be convinced; but the sight of all the bustle there, and the men-of-war, was enough even for him.’

‘When did you anchor?’ John asked.

‘Yesterday. Sir John and I started for London in a chaise at night, but got only as far as Guildford. I soon found that his rate of progression would not do, so I asked his leave to set off home. He didn’t know my romantic story till then! When I told him about you, hija, I never saw his affectionate heart so angry before—for he has treated me like his own son. He positively scolded me, told me he would report our arrival, bade me write to him, so that he might know my address, and packed me off straightway! So West and I got a chaise, reached London this morning, and drove straight to Panton Square. Madame assured me you were well, querida, and had quite lately ordered a new riding-habit. So first I got a post-chaise, and then I ran to Week’s in the Haymarket, for I was not going to come home empty-handed again! See what I’ve brought you!’

Improvident Harry! He had brought a heavy gold chain for his Juana, and a dressing-case, fit, Anna declared, for a duchess! He had a cartload of Spanish books for her, too, from Havana; and West had got a couple of the little curly white dogs they bred there, and had brought them home especially for Missus! ‘Not much in my line,’ said Harry indulgently. He had much to tell about his last weeks in America: how he had been sent to demand the surrender of Fort Bowyer; how the army, pending the ratification of peace, had been disembarked on Isle Dauphine, at the entrance of Mobile Bay, and what difficulties they had had there in getting fresh provisions; how they could bake no bread, for want of ovens, until Harry, with Admiral Malcolm’s ready help, had made mortar for ovens by burning oyster shells, and had surprised the Generals by producing a column of hot loaves and rolls for breakfast; how West had run into Harry’s tent one morning, and had exclaimed: ‘Oh, sir, thank the Lord you’re alive! A navigator has been going round and round your tent all night! Here’s a regular road about it!’ He had meant an alligator, of course: there were a great many on the island; the soldiers used to eat the young ones, which tasted rather like coarsely-fed pork. The sandflies had been appalling; Harry, who hated tobacco, had given his orderly as much as he could smoke, and had bade him sit under the table in his tent, while he wrote his reports. ‘If you please, sir,’ had said the orderly, a Peninsular veteran, poking his head out with a very knowing look, ‘this is drier work than in front of Salamanca, where water wasn’t to be had, and what’s more, no grog neither! So Harry had sent West for rum and water, and the orderly had said contentedly, ‘Now, your honour, if you can write as long as I can smoke, you’ll write the history of the world, and I’ll kill all the midges.’ When the ratification of the treaty arrived, Lambert, and Harry and Baynes, the ADC, had embarked on the Brazen sloop-of-war, and had sailed for Havana. They were entertained there by a Mr Drake, a wealthy merchant who had married a Spaniard. But all Harry’s spare time had been spent in the Governor’s house, for the Governor had a daughter so like Juana that Harry could hardly tear himself away from her.

‘Yes! You need not tell me that!’ said Juana. ‘You are altogether abominable, mi querido! Muy perfido!’

At Havana, Harry had met Woodville, the cigar manufacturer, a most extraordinary man, who had told Lambert that he had a sight to show which few men could boast of. He had put his fingers in his mouth, and had whistled up forty-one children, of a variety of shades of colour, and not one above thirteen years of age. ‘Report says, Sir John, and I believe it,’ he had told Lambert, ‘that they are every one of them my children.’

‘I thought Stirling and I—Stirling is the Brazen’s captain, you know—would have died of laughing! For dear Sir John, one of the most moral men in the world, said in the mildest way: “A very large family indeed, Mr Woodville.”

Then, in the gulf of Florida, the Brazen had encountered the most terrific gale, and had lain-to for forty-eight hours. At one time, Harry had wondered whether he would ever see his Juana again, but there was never a captain like Stirling, and here he was, after all, never better in his life, and agog to join the army in Belgium.

‘Oh, to be under old Hookey again!’ he said.

‘And me, Enrique? And me?’ Juana demanded, shaking his arm. ‘Of course you, my darling! I told Lambert I should bring you, and he desired his kind compliments, and bade me tell you that he was looking forward to meeting my little Spanish heroine. I did not tell him what a varmint you are, hija!’

‘Oh, Harry, you will not take Juana to Belgium with you?’ cried Mary. ‘Oh, won’t I, by Jupiter!’ said Harry. ‘No more separations for me, I thank you!’ 4

It was not many days before Harry heard from Lambert that he was to be employed with the army in Belgium, and that Harry had better be prepared to join him at a few hours’ notice. He would go as Major of Brigade again, a situation which suited him very well. The sisters shed tears, but Juana and Harry danced a fandango, in such wild spirits that sighs and tears were felt to be out of place. The house in St Mary’s Street was transformed suddenly into something very like a military depot; and Anna, seeing tents overhauled, canteens restocked, riding-habits, boots, and boat-cloaks spread out for inspection, was so envious of Juana that she could scarcely bring herself to face her own humdrum future. The most urgent need was for horses. Harry pronounced both Tiny and his own mare too old for further military service, and went off to Newmarket, with Juana and his father, to procure a stud. He bought two good horses there, two more in Whittlesey, and, from his brother Stona, a beautiful mare of his father’s breeding for Juana. They called her The Brass Mare; and a fine, strong creature she was: a perfect lady’s mount—provided that the lady was a perfect rider.

Betsy declared that Harry’s promotion to the rank of Major had quite gone to his head. She said he would very soon be ruined, for besides the batman he would have as soon as he joined the army, he was taking West, a young groom to look after Juana’s horse, and a lady’s maid. How, she demanded, did he mean to transport himself, his wife, his brother Charles, three servants, five horses, and a pug-dog to Ostend?

‘Oh, I shall contrive somehow!’ said Harry carelessly.

Charles, a trifle self-conscious in a brand-new Rifleman’s uniform, was going to accompany Harry. He hoped he would be given a chance to distinguish himself in the coming campaign, because within one hour of putting on his Volunteer-jacket, he had only one ambition: to exchange his shoulder-straps for a pair of Rifle-wings.

Hardly had all the preparations been completed, and the sisters dissuaded from pressing on Juana all manner of comforts which they could as well have carried, said Harry, as the parish Church, than another letter arrived from Sir John Lambert. Sir John was starting for Ghent immediately, and recommended Harry to proceed via Harwich for Ostend to join him. West and Jenkins were sent off at once to Harwich with the horses, Harry arranging to follow with his wife and brother by post-chaise. On their last day at home, he and Juana went riding with John and the sisters, and Harry very nearly put an end to his career by taking a last jump on his old mare. She fell with him, pinning his leg to the ground under her shoulder. For one dreadful minute, the rest of the party expected to see Harry either dead or crippled. No such thing! He was not hurt, and as soon as he found he could not drag his leg out, he passed his hand down till he got a short hold of the curb-rein, gave the mare such a snatch that she made a convulsive effort to rise, and he was able to draw his leg out. He staggered up, bruised, shaken, and faint, but with no bones broken. ‘Good God!’ he said, with an unsteady laugh, ‘there was nearly an end to my Brigade-Majorship that time!’

He was not a penny the worse for the accident next morning; he did not even seem to be very stiff, which was the least, his father said, he deserved to be. At three in the morning, the post-chaise was at the door, and all the misery of parting had to be faced. Poor John, sending three of his sons to the war, was dreadfully upset. ‘Napoleon and Wellington will meet; there will be a battle of a kind never heard of before. I shall not see you all again,’ he said mournfully. All the sisters showed red eyes, and clutched damp handkerchiefs. Juana was kissed again and again; Harry was bidden to take the greatest care of her; a basket of refreshments for the journey was handed into the chaise; Matty, Juana’s country-bred maid, climbed in after it, clutching an armful of cloaks and parcels; and at last they were off. They reached Harwich in the afternoon, and went at once to the Black Bull, where Harry had stayed years before when he had embarked with Moore for Gothenburg. Mr Briton, the landlord, remembered him at once, but said rather dampingly that unless he freighted a craft he had no chance of embarking from Harwich. Every packet was full to overflowing, every ship of any tonnage at all had been commandeered by the Government for the transport of troops.