Margaret Tudor: A Romance of Old St. AugustineColcock, Annie T. (Annie Toomer)
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Margaret Tudor: A Romance of Old St. Augustine
Colcock, Annie T. (Annie Toomer)
Historical fiction; Saint Augustine (Fla.) -- Fiction
I marvelled at the ease with which Mr. Rivers conversed in both Spanish
and French. Of the latter I was not wholly ignorant myself,--although in
my quiet country life I had had little opportunity of putting my
knowledge to the test, seldom attempting to do more than "prick in some
flowers" of foreign speech upon the fabric of my mother tongue; so it
was with great timidity that I essayed at first to thread the mazes of
an unfamiliar language.
The Spaniard, however, greeted my attempts with courteous comprehension,
and after a time I was emboldened to ask some questions concerning the
town of San Augustin, and to comment upon the vivid beauty of the skies
and the blue waves around us. Upon that he broke into rapturous praises
of his own land of Spain--"the fairest spot upon the earth!" As I
listened, smilingly, it seemed to me that I perceived a shadow gathering
upon the brow of my dear love.
So far the galley had depended solely upon her oars--of which there were
six banks, of two oars each, on either side,--but now, the wind having
freshened, Don Pedro ordered her two small lateen sails to be hoisted.
While he was giving these directions and superintending their
fulfilment, Mr. Rivers drew closer to my side, saying, in a rapid
whisper:
"You have somewhat misread me, sweetheart, in regard to your demeanour
toward our host. 'Tis surely needless for you to put yourself to the
pain of conversing with him at such length."
Now it must be remembered that in the last few hours our situation had
greatly changed. I had left a dark and dirty hovel for a cushioned couch
upon a breezy deck. In the tiny cabin which had been placed at my
disposal, I had, with Barbara's aid, rearranged my tangled locks and my
disordered clothing; so that I was no longer ashamed of my untidy
appearance. With my outward transformation there had come a reaction in
my spirits, which bounded upward to their accustomed level.
The salt air was fresh upon my cheek; the motion of our vessel,
careening gaily on the dancing waves, was joyous and inspiring. I forgot
that we were sailing southward, and that, if our English friends had
survived to begin their intended settlement, we were leaving them
farther and farther behind. My thoughts went back to the earlier days of
our journey over seas; and a flash of the wilful mischief, which I
thought had all died from my heart, rose suddenly within me.
I leaned back upon my cushioned seat and looked with half-veiled eyes at
my gallant gentleman.
"These nice distinctions, Mr. Rivers, are too difficult for me," I said.
"If this Spanish cavalier of high lineage and honest intentions is
worthy of any gratitude, methinks a few civil words can scarcely overpay
him."
A heightened colour in the cheek of my betrothed testified to the warmth
of his feelings in the matter, as he replied:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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