The Bravest of the Brave — or, with Peterborough in Spain by G. A. Henty (books to read for 12 year olds .txt) 📕

“Lay aside your arms, men,” the countess said imperiously. “These men are the count's guests. Enrico, do you not recognize this gentleman?”

The majordomo turned, and, at once dropping his musket, ran across, and, falling on his knees, pressed Jack's hand to his lips. The servants, who had at first stood in irresolute astonishment at their mistress' order, no longer hesitated, but placed their arms against the wall.

“This,” the majordomo said to them, rising to his feet, “is the noble English lord who saved the lives of the count and countess and my young master from the mob at Barcelona, as I have often told you.”

This explained the mystery. The servants saluted Jack with profound respect, for all were deeply attached to the count and countess, and had often thrilled with fury and excitement over the majordomo's relation of that terrible scene at Barcelona.

Jack in a few words explained to the troopers the reason of the change in their position. The dragoons put up their swords, and were soon on the best terms with the retainers in the great kitchen, while Jack and the countess chatted over the events which had happened since they last parted.

“I shall always tremble when I think of today,” the countess said. “What a feeling mine would have been all my life had our preserver been killed by my servants! I should never have recovered it. It is true it would have been an accident, and yet the possibility should have been foreseen. The count knew you were with the Earl of Peterborough, and the whole English army should have been sacred in his eyes for your sake; but I suppose he never thought of it any more than I did. Of course every one knows that we belong to Philip's party. It was for that, that the mob at Barcelona would have killed us; but my husband does not talk much, and when he left Barcelona no objection was raised. He did not intend to take part in the war, and he little thought at that time that an enemy would ever come so far from Barcelona; but yesterday, when a message came that a small party of the enemy had entered the valley, and that the peasants had prepared an ambuscade for them on their return, and that they hoped that the count their master would himself come and lead them to annihilate the heretics, the simple man agreed, never thinking that you might be among them. What will his feelings be when, he learns it!”

Late in the afternoon the count arrived. One of the servants who had been on the lookout informed the countess of his approach.

“I will go myself to meet him,” she said. “Do you stay here, senor, where you can hear.”

The count rode up at full speed, and as the door opened ran hastily in.

“What has happened, Nina?” he exclaimed anxiously. “I have had a great fright. We have been following a small party of the enemy who escaped us from Estrella, and just now a woman returning from work in the fields told us she had seen five strange soldiers ride up here and enter.”

“They are here,” the countess answered complacently. “They are at present our guests.”

“Our guests!” the count exclaimed, astonished “What are you saying, Nina? The enemies of our country our guests! In what a position have you placed me! I have two hundred armed men just behind. I left them to ride on when I heard the news, being too anxious to go at their pace, and now you tell me that these men of whom they are in search are our guests! What am I to say or do? You amaze me altogether.”

“What would you have me do?” the countess said. “Could I refuse hospitality to wearied men who asked it, Juan?” she continued, changing her tone. “You have to thank Providence indeed that those men came to our door instead of falling into the hands of your peasants.”

“To thank Providence!” the count repeated, astonished.

“Come with me and you will see why.”

She led the way into the room, her husband following her. The count gave a cry as his eye fell upon Jack, and every vestige of color left his face.

“Mary, mother of heaven!” he said in a broken voice, “I thank thee that I have been saved from a crime which would have imbittered all my life. Oh, senor, is it thus we meet, thus, when I have been hunting blindly for the blood of the man to whom I owe so much?”

“Happily there is no harm done, count,” Jack said, advancing with outstretched hand; “you were doing what you believed to be your duty, attacking the enemy of your country. Had you killed me you would have been no more to blame than I should, did a chance shot of mine slay you when fighting in the ranks of the soldiers of Philip.”

The count was some time before he could respond to Jack's greeting, so great was his emotion at the thought of the escape he had had from slaying the preserver of his wife and child. As soon as he recovered himself he hurried out to meet the peasants, whose shouts could be heard as they approached the castle. He soon returned and bade his servants take a cask of wine into the courtyard behind the house, with what bread and meat there might be in the larder.

“You had no trouble with them, I hope?” Jack asked.

“None whatever,” the count said. “As soon as I told them the circumstances under which you saved the life of the countess, my boy, and myself, their only wish was to see you and express their gratitude; they are simple fellows, these peasants, and if fairly treated greatly attached to their lords.”

“It's a pity their treatment of the prisoners is so savage,” Jack said dryly.

“They are savage,” the count said, “but you must remember that the history of Spain is one long story of war and bloodshed. They draw knives on each other on the slightest provocation, and in their amusements, as you know, there is nothing that in their eyes can rival a bullfight; it is little wonder, then, that in war they are savage and, as you would say, even bloodthirsty. This is not so in regular warfare. Whatever may have been the conduct of some of our irregulars, none have ever alleged that Spanish troops are less inclined to give quarter to conquered foes than others; but in this rough irregular warfare each peasant fights on his own account as against a personal enemy, and as he would expect and would meet with little mercy if he fell into the enemy's hands, so he grants no mercy to those who fall into his. Indeed, after the brutal treatment which Marshal Tesse has, I am ashamed to say, dealt out to those who opposed him, you can scarcely blame peasants for acting as they see civilized soldiers do.”

A short time afterward Jack went out with the count into the courtyard, and was received with the most hearty and cordial greeting by the men who were an hour before thirsting for his blood. Among them was the village mayor.

“Ah, sir,” he said, “why did you not tell us that you had saved the life of our lord and lady? You should have had all the horses in the district, and as many wagons of wine and grain as we could collect. We are all in