Followed a lengthy conference. Slowly, methodically Philip pieced the whole thing together in his careful head, and when that was done turned to Porres, who was fretting to set matters in train. “We shall entrust this charge to you, señor,” he said.
Don Cristobal bowed. “I thank your Majesty. I will have a party ride north at once. Give me leave to withdraw, sire!”
Philip waved him away; the Governor kissed his hand, went out sedately backwards, but once clear of the King’s closet wasted no time.
A party of guards was despatched within half an hour, with orders to spare neither themselves nor their horses, but at all costs to reach Vasconosa ahead of El Beauvallet. Changes of horses they must have, and could get easily enough at the various post-stages; or if none were to be had there they were on the King’s business, and might commandeer what mounts they pleased. Cruza, burning to capture the man who had slipped so easily through his fingers, was sent in charge of the little party, and swore to bring the pirate back in bonds. There would be little rest allowed to Cruza’s men on this wild ride north.
XX
The big coach that bore Dominica away from Madrid pushed northwards with what speed it could make. Four horses dragged it, and these were changed at every post. For a lady of such natural indolence Doña Beatrice moved swiftly when she chose to move at all.
The coach was decked with plumes upon the roof, hung with leather curtains that could be fastened at will, and fitted with padded seats of red velvet. The body was of the newest kind, slung on stout leather straps, which helped to ease the discomfort of the journey. It was roomy enough to accommodate not only the two ladies, but their tirewomen as well, and a number of packages and bags. Behind it came lackeys with led sumpters; beside it rode guards of the Carvalho household, decked out in their master’s livery, making a brave show of it on this journey through the country. Dominica, listlessly regarding this cavalcade, reflected that if her aunt feared to be overtaken by El Beauvallet she had a very ample guard to protect her from this one man.
Changes of horses had been bespoken beforehand at each stage. None but the strongest Flemish horses were harnessed to the equipage, and these great powerful beasts drew them rapidly on their way.
The post-road was full of potholes, and deep ruts, hard-baked by the sun; at times it was a mere track across the plain, at others it became a rocky mountain pass, where the number of horses had to be doubled to drag the coach up. They slept at inns along the road, but the coach never stopped until it was too dark to go further, and it was off again betimes in the morning. When Dominica wearily asked the reason of such insensate haste her aunt only smiled, and said:—“When I rouse myself to undertake such a disagreeable journey as this, my dear, I waste no time over it.”
The lady beguiled much of the tedium of the journey by sly references to Beauvallet, left behind them. She veiled her words, out of consideration of the listening tirewomen, but Dominica was never in any doubt as to her meaning.
Dominica, jolted and bumped in her corner of the coach was not at a loss for suitable answers. They came out very pat, and had an edge to them. Doña Beatrice chuckled softly, and pinched the girl’s cheek, not at all ruffled.
This cat-and-mouse play was not to be borne. Dominica made a bid for freedom, and announced her wish to ride part of the way. To sit in a bumping, lurching coach, she said, day upon day, irked her sorely. With her aunt’s good leave she would have a horse saddled for her on the morrow, and ride for at least an hour or two.
“How restless you are, my dear!” remarked Doña Beatrice. “By all means do as you please. Young blood cannot be still? But I do not know that it is at all seemly.”
“There will be none to see me, aunt, and I have not been used to be cooped up,” Dominica said.
“True,” agreed Doña Beatrice, and disposed herself to slumber.
On the morrow it was so ordered. Dominica came down from her chamber at the inn in riding-dress, fully prepared to fight for the privilege she claimed. However, there was no need. Doña Beatrice merely said that it was a pity Don Diego was not there to act as escort, and told a groom to stay near his young mistress.
Dominica carried a heavy heart in her breast, but could still enjoy this spell of exercise and of freedom. There had been little enough riding for her since she had come back to Spain. She remembered long gallops at Santiago, and knew a little of the same joyous feeling of freedom as she had had there. She rode well, had no fear, and led the groom a fine chase at a full gallop. She reined in at last, flushed and wind-tossed, breathed her horse a moment, and went cantering back to meet the lumbering coach.
Her aunt had had the curtains drawn back, and greeted her with a quizzical look. “You are a very Diana, my dear. Were you riding to escape from me?”
Dominica tucked an escaped curl back under her French hood. “No, señora, I doubt it would be of no avail,” she said frankly.
She came presently to sit in the coach again, but thereafter it was understood that when my lady willed it so she would ride, and there was always to be a horse procured for her.
Away from her aunt’s side she had leisure to indulge her thoughts. They could not be pleasant. Not even Joshua’s stout optimism could allay her fears. She felt
