CHAPTER VII

Jeromín had a great fright on the morning of the 28th of August, 1556. He was doing his lessons with D. Guillén Prieto, when Do?a Elizabeth de Alderete, first lady-in-waiting, appeared suddenly to tell him from Do?a Magdalena to come to the parlour.

She considered his lesson time so sacred, and it was so extraordinary that she should send for him during this hour, that the boy, frightened, began hastily to examine himself to see what faults of commission or omission he could have been accused of. Then he saw a courier covered with dust passing through the cloister. He began to imagine that the strange power which governed him and took him from one place to another was claiming him once more, and was going to separate him from Do?a Magdalena, which made the child so miserable that he arrived in the presence of the lady very crestfallen, and with eyes full of tears.

Do?a Magdalena was standing, an open letter in her hand, and joy in her face, so that, with the discernment of a much-loved child, Jeromín was comforted at once. "My aunt would not look so happy if they were going to take me away," he said to himself. She came to meet him, holding out her arms.

"Come here, Jeromín, give me a kiss as a reward for good news," and she gave him one on the forehead with all the tenderness of a mother, and then added joyfully, "You shall be the first to know, Jeromín, that in three days Luis Quijada, my lord, will be here." Everyone present, duennas and maids, exclaimed with delight, and pleased with these demonstrations, Do?a Magdalena, more beside herself with joy than Jeromín had ever seen her, then said, "And now, Jeromín, amuse yourself all day and go with Juan Galarza wherever you please."

Meanwhile the news, carried by the courier, had run through the castle and village with many added details. The abdication of the Emperor was already a fact, and despoiled of all his power Charles V had embarked at Flushing for Spain, in order to shut himself up for the rest of his days in the convent of Yuste. For this purpose the Emperor was sending forward his steward Quijada, from whom he was inseparable, that he might await Charles's arrival in Laredo, after having spent a few weeks in the bosom of his family.

This news convulsed the castle, village, and most of all Jeromín, who had not a moment's peace during those three days, or passed a night without dreaming of the noble figure of Quijada, whom he only knew by hearsay, and imagined to be something gigantic.

It was a great race, that of Quijada, four centuries of honour sustained from generation to generation on the field of battle, and the present one had not spilled their blood less gloriously. Luis's eldest brother, Pedro, had been shot at the Emperor's side in Tunis. Juan, the youngest, had died at Teruanne fighting for Castille, and Luis, the only one left, had been wounded in the Goletta. He was the hero of Hesdin and the inseparable companion of the Emperor in Africa, Flanders, Germany and Italy, serving him loyally for thirty-five years. It pleased the boy to conjure up this pair, formidable by their deeds, dazzling in their glory, as Juan Galarza had so often described them to him in the battle of Landresies, where the squire also fought. The Emperor gave Luis Quijada his banner, and putting on his helmet said to the squadron of the Court, that the day had come and that they must fight like honourable gentlemen, and that if they saw him or his standard carried by Quijada fall, they were to raise the flag before raising him. There was no doubt about it: two great principles were taking hold of Jeromín without his knowing it. God and the helpless, as Do?a Magdalena felt and taught. The Emperor, the King, authority and justice came from heaven and were sisters, as their servant Quijada proclaimed!

And then the poor child became miserable and wrung his little hands—why? Because in three days he would see the glorious leader without having done anything for his God or his King.

Hearing him groaning and restless Do?a Magdalena, who was also sleepless, ran to his help, thinking him ill; and when with childish confidence he told her his trouble, the noble dame could not do otherwise than laugh and be astonished at the same time.

All the neighbours in Villagarcia went to meet their lord half a league beyond the village, the men with arquebuses to fire a salute, the women in their best clothes and the children in two rows to sing the hymn of the Quijadas, according to ancient custom. Some of the neighbouring gentlemen, who were relations, went on horseback to Rioseco, where the last stage began, and all the clergy of the place went with uplifted cross as far as the hermitage of St. Lazarus, according to the privilege of the noble house of the Quijadas.

Night was already drawing in when the horn of the watchman, posted on the tower of homage, announced that the suite was approaching. They could hear the salvos and the voices of the girls and boys singing:
Los Quixadas son nombrados
De valientes y muy fieles;
Azules y plateados
Sin quenta, mas bien contados
Traen por armas jaqueles.[1]

The bells of St. Pedro and St. Boil and the small bell of St. Lazarus all began to ring joyfully, and the clergy hastened to the hermitage to give the cross to be kissed by the lord of the place and the patron of the church.

Luis Quijada came, riding a powerful mule, his thin tabard of taffeta soiled by the dust of the journey, and wearing a head-dress of unbleached linen on account of the heat. He was more than fifty, tall, powerful, and spare, sunburnt until he seemed sallow, with a thick black beard, his look intelligent but hard, his head bald beyond his years from the continual friction of his helmet. Bending over his saddle he kissed the cross of the parish with his head uncovered, and answered the responses in correct Latin, trying to soften his naturally rough, harsh voice; and putting his mule at a walk he rode, surrounded by the whole village, followed by the gentlemen and men-at-arms and more than twenty mules with baggage and provisions.

He got off at the gate of the castle, for on the threshold Do?a Magdalena and all the household were awaiting him, in front of her Jeromín in his best clothes, holding a tray covered with a rich cloth with the keys of the castle, which he was to present to the master on bended knee when he alighted.

There was a moment of expectant curiosity; those present were breathless and silent from the lady to the lowest villein of Villagarcia. The suspicion that Jeromín was Luis Quijada's son had spread through the castle, and had rooted itself in the village as a certainty, and all wished to see the meeting of father and son, which they thought would be dramatic.

Whether Quijada had come prepared, or whether it was really a spontaneous impulse, he sprang lightly off the mule, and without taking the keys or looking at Jeromín, went straight up to Do?a Magdalena and embraced her tenderly with much joy and signs of affection.

Everyone shouted, the artillery of the castle burst forth with salvos which made the old walls echo and shake; fireworks whizzed through the air, and from the cloister minstrels, who had come there on purpose, saluted the arrival of the master with trumpets, drums, and other instruments accompanying the hymn of the Quijadas:

LUIS QUIJADA, LORD OF VILLAGARCIA

In possession of the Conde de Santa Coloma
De la casa de Roland
Que es casa de gran substancia
Con gran trabajo y afan
Vino un muy gentil galan
á Castilla de su Francia.[2]

The coming of the lord of Villagarcia did not alter Jeromín's position in the castle. Quijada treated him with the same affection and prudent precautions as Do?a Magdalena did, and never lost an opportunity of studying Jeromín's nature and the springs of his character, and those impulses of manliness and energy which are the base of real valour.

One day when Quijada was in the armoury cleaning a gun and Jeromín at his side giving him the pieces, he said suddenly, "Jeromín, would you be capable of shooting off a gun?" and the boy answered him with perfect confidence, "I should be ready to shoot off a gun or to receive a shot."

The answer pleased Quijada, who from that time gave him leave to remain covered in his presence, and gave him a little sword, more a childish toy than an arm of defence.

But very shortly Jeromín covered himself with still greater glory, according to the detailed account of the licenciado Porre?o. On the occasion of a bull-fight in Villandrando, a very fierce bull charged the barrier and put everyone to flight except Jeromín, who, sheltered by the woodwork, faced the animal and tried to wound it with his little sword in the head, making the bull go back to the arena, to the astonishment of everyone, who did not attribute the deed to mad daring, but rather to bravery or a real miracle.

On which, says Porre?o, "The ladies at the windows of the bull-ring sang his praises and the whole crowd applauded the courage and daring of the lad, who had firmly withstood this savage animal, and congratulated Luis Quijada on the bravery, which under an humble garb his protégé showed, judging that beneath the sackcloth there was the...."