With Columbus in America; a novel

Front matter

QQQOaSTBllib

F3 y from the German^ of C.FalKenhorst

"" By Elise L.Lathrop. '''1'

II

The next morning, and for several sncceeding mornings, Colnmbns was on hand pnnctnally, and set to Avork diligently at map-copying. In vain did he hope to see the fair Felipa, he was invariably admitted by the sehora, who frequently came in and chatted with him. She gave him long and detailed accounts of their life upon Porto Santo during her husband's life, and even mingled girlish reminiscences of her own life in Lisbon. To much of this chat Columbus listened with interest, but from his manner no one could fancy that it was not all highly entertaining. He was quiet and rather reticent, himself, but was occasionally drawn into relating some of his own early experiences. He told her of his mother, his father, and brothers, and even diffidently referred to his many adventures, for his life had been an eventful one.

He did in fact seem to have won the sehora's heart; she talked more and more freely to him, she even brought him cool, refreshing drinks. But all these interruptions did not prevent the work from steadily advancing, and at last came the time when one more morning's work, and the maps would be completed.

Columbus had said but little to his brother Bartholomew about his work. The younger brother knew nothing about the Sehora Perestrelo. He had merely been notified that some copying of maps was to be done, and had been asked if he would do it. As he had quite an amount of work on hand, and was anxious to give his brother some, he had sent him to find out particulars. But not a word had Columbus said to his brother of pretty Felipa, or that the mother and daughter had proved to be the very couple he had seen in church. However, it was doubtful if Bartholomew would have remembered the girl, or even if he had noticed her at all.

This anticipated last morning of work was to prove very different from what Columbus had thought. On this Friday morning, a trifle later than usual, Columbus knocked at the Sehora Perestrelo's door ; but to his great surprise it was o^Dened not by the buxom sehora, but by none other than slight, jDretty Felipa, and unusually pretty did she look, somewhat paler than upon the other two occasions when he had seen her.

She courtesied demurely as she admitted him, but vanished almost immediately afterward into the adjoining room.

Columbus had worked for perhaps an hour when the door of this room was hastily opened, and Felipa hurried in, pale, breathless, and, forgetting all her shyness, went close ujd to the table where the sehor was working. '* sehor," she cried, " I am so frightened; my mother "

She paused and gazed up into his face appealingly.

" What is it, senorita? " said he, springing up.

'^ She is ill — oh, she must be very ill. She complained 01 not feeling well this morning, and that is why I stayed home from the convent, but she felt better — she was sewing — and now — oh, what shall I do ! " she cried, wringing her hands and looking prettier than ever.

"Is she really ill?— do you not want a physician called? — can I not be of some assistance? — pray call upon me in any way," all this in one breath, quite a remarkable achievement for reserved Christopher Columbus.

" Oh, if you could — but indeed it is too much — and yet there is no one but old Maria, and she is so slow, if she Avould go, she is cross "

" Senorita, if you Avould like me to go for a

WITH COLUMBUS IN ami:rica. 25

doctor, Mssuredly I will go. AVill you give me tlie address?"

" Oh, I do not know of any one. Mother has never, never been ill like this — ah, it is so kind in you, Sehor Colombo, if you Avould bring some one "

" Sehorita Felipa, a doctor shall be here as soon as I can i30ssibly find one, and that will surely not be long. But do not be so alarmed; it can be nothing serious; the sehora your mother seemed well yesterday; it may be but a passing faintness. Do not frighten yourself needlessly. I will go at once," and taking up his hat he left the room.

Felipa hastened back to her mother's side. Sehora Perestrelo lay back in a large arm-chair, panting for breath, with closed eyes. Her daughter knelt down beside her, chafed her hands, and called her by all sorts of endearing names, but was wholly ignorant of any remedies to use. But almost before she had thought it possible, slow as every moment yet seemed to her, Columbus had returned with a physician, a grave, elderly man, whose very appearance was reassuring. He went up to the sehora, felt her pulse, and then, opening a small bag wdiich he liad brought with him, took out a vial. " Bring me a glass of w\att?r, please,"

said he to Felipa — his iirst remark of any kind since he had entered the house.

The girl hurriedly fetched it. He dropped a dark liquid into it, and with a spoon forced some of the mixture between the sehora's lips. It had a speedy effect; she sat up and opened her eyes, gazing about her in bewilderment.

" Are you better, mother ? O dear mother, are you better? " cried Felipa, anxiously.

"Hush! do you wish to make your mother worse, child? " said the physician, but not unkindly. "Run into the other i^oom "—but Felipa gazed at him so piteously that he relented and added, "unless you will be very quiet; then you may stay."

Felipa was quiet as a mouse, and scarcely stirred until her mother herself spoke and called her to her.

" I am better now, my child ; you iviust not be frightened."

" Yes, yes, certainly not," added Dr. Lopez. " The heat has been a little too much for your mother, sehorita ; that is all. I will come in again this afternoon. Keep the sehora perfectly quiet,

and that is all, except " here he added some

simple directions about the drops to be administered, and left the room.

In the adjoining apartment waited Columbus. He joined the physician and followed him to the door. " Is tlie sehora really very ill? " he asked.

Dr. Lox)ez glanced at him. "A relative?" he asked,

" Not the slightest," replied Columbus.

" Hm! well— no, she is not ill now; her heart is affected, however. Good-morning," and he was gone.

Columbus stood there rather uncertain what to do next. He did not wish to leave the house without proffering his assistance ; he hardly liked to resume his work, and yet did not think it advisable to knock at the other room door and disturb the sick woman. So he stood there irresolute, mec'hanically staring at the various maps. In ten minutes or so the door opened noiselessly and Felipa appeared. Closing it carefully behind her she went up to Columbus.

" O sehor, let me thank you ; what should I have done had it not been for your kindness ? I am so very, very thankful to you."

" Pray say nothing of it; it was nothing. I am glad that I could help you. Is Senora Perestrelo feeling better now? "

" She is asleep," said Felipa. *' She looks better and she is sleeping naturally. Oh, you do not think slie is very ill, surely. Tlie doctor said it was nothing; the heat, perhaps."

" Yes, yes, most probably. The heat has been intense for so many days. But can I be of no further assistance to you? Can I not find some one to stay with you and help you with your

mother " He paused abruptly, fearing lest

he might unnecessarily alarm pretty, frightened Felipa.

" Xo, oh no, there is nothing more that you can do. I need no one. If mother should be ill — but, oh, you do not think that she will! — I should wish to take care of her myself."

" Doubtless she will be quite herself again by to-morrow. I think we may have cooler weather, the wind is changing," he added, glancing at the slowly moving clouds. " But, sehorita, it will inconvenience you to have me working here. I will postpone finishing the map, and, if you will j^ermit, will call this evening and inquire for your mother."

"Thank you," said Felipa, neither assenting nor dissenting, although she shyly offered her hand.

"Art thou not home early to-day, brother?" asked Bartholomew, looking up from his work.

"Yes, a trifle, perha^^s," said Christopher.

" Senora Peres trelo was ill, so I left early. The maps are nearly finished. A couple of hours' Avork will be sufficient to comj)lete them."

Nothing more was said upon the subject until in the early evening, Avhen, as it had become somewhat cooler, Bartholomew suggested to his brother to take a stroll along the river, perhaps even go for a row if they should feel inclined. To his great surprise, however, Christopher declined somewhat confusedly.

" I have an errand Avhicli I must attend to first," said he. " Suppose thou shouldst wait for me at the little inn where we met last week. Then I will join thee there in a short time."

Bartholomew looked at him in surprise. " I will go with thee to attend to thy errand. I suppose it will not take thee long, eh? "

''Oh, that is not worth while. It would be out of thy way. Thou must be tired after thy longday's work, and this hot walk will only unnecessarily fatigue thee. It will be best for thee to wait for me as I proposed."

There Avas something in Christopher's tone, although most cordial, which discouraged further argument on Bartholomew's part, so with a shrug of his shoulders he allowed his brother to go his own way.

" Curious fellow, what can lie have in mind now?" he thought, as he strolled slowly toward the appointed rendezvous.

Christopher Columbus meanwhile turned in the opiDosite direction and, walking quickly, was soon in front of the house in which Sehora Perestrelo and her daughter lived. Having knocked at their door, after a moment's delay it was opened a crack by Felipa. She flushed shyly.

" Oh, it is you, Sehor Colombo."

"Yes, sehorita; and how^ is the sehora your mother this evening."

"Thank you so much, I am sure she is better; she is sleeping quietly. Oh yes, she will soon be well."

" I must not keep you from her side, I suppose," said Columbus, most unselfishly, " but I will do myself the pleasure to call again to-morrow and inquire for her ; and if I can do anything for you, or serve you in any way," he added somewdiat diffidently, "will you not send for me?" and he handed her a paper ux)on wdiicli w^as written his name and address.

The young girl thanked him with a smile, as she took the paper, and followed him with her eyes until his tall figure was lost to sight on the dark staircase; then she hurried back to her mother's side. She found to her surprise that she was awake.

*'Wliom wast thou speaking with, Felipa?" asked she feebly.

" The sehor Colombo, mother. He came to inquire for thee. He was so kind this morning ! I do not know what T should have done had it not been for him. He ran for a physician and "

" Yes, yes, my child." Then after a long pause she asked, even more faintly, " Has he finished the mai^s?"

Felipa started from her re very. " Yes — no — I — he said he had a little more to do, but that he would Avait until you were better. Is not that right, mother dear? "

"Very well."

III

FoK several days Columbus daily called to inquire for Sefiora Perestrelo, and one morning Felipa opened the door wide, vvitli a radiant face, and ushered him in, saying :

"You must come in, senor; mother is up — she is well to-day."

And there, ensconced in a large arm-chair, sat the sehora, a trifle i3ale, perhaps, but looking quite her usual self. She received him most cordially, invited him to be seated, and chatted with him briskly. Felipa meanwhile seated herself in a low chair, busy with some delicate work, only occasionally participating in the conversation. After some minutes, Columbus mentioned the mapmaking, and asked whether he should flnisli them this morning. But Sehora Perestrelo demurred, and asked him if xiossible to come the next day. However, she seemed in no hurry to be rid of him, but detained him on one pretext or another until the morning had nearly passed. She

THE TWO SLAVES BEFORE MARCHENA.

dismissed liini most affably, and Feli^Ja gave liim a bewitching smile.

Ul^on the following morning he appeared quite early and was received by the sefiora alone. He hnished the maps this day without interruption, and also without catching a glimpse of Felii)a. But to his great surprise, after having received the jnice agreed upon, the sehora said to him : " I have noticed that you seemed greatly interested in this map," designating a i)articular one; "and if you care to x)ossess a co])j sufRciently to take the trouble of making one, you are welcome to it. Come some morning and make it."

He thanked her warmly, and was in fact delighted to own a copy of the map, and after a few polite phrases took leave. He walked slowly along the street, but had just reached the corner where he was to turn in a different direction, when, a short distance ahead, he perceived a young girl whom several rough boys were evidently annoying. One was ai)X)arently begging for a kiss, and the others encouraging him noisily.

He hurried up to the group, and to his surprise discovered that the girl was none other than Felipa, in a state of the greatest distress, her eyes dilated with light.

" Why, sehorita, is it indeed you? "

" Senor Colombo! Ah, I am so glad! " and she clung to his arm with childish confidence.

Her tormentors scattered at once, and Columbus turned and walked with her in the direction of her home.

" I was so frightened — I am not used to going out alone — but Barbara did not come for me, you see; usually I come home with Maria Parlo and her old nurse, but to-day I could not leave mother alone all day, and Barbara was to come for me; but I waited and waited until I was afraid that something had happened "

"I can reassure you, senorita, for I have but just left your mother, and she seems perfectly well.

" Ah, the saints be praised," said little Felipa devoutly, crossing herself. Then her thoughts recurring to her past annoyances she murmured: " What should I have done if you had not met me? You seem to be always rendering me services at such critical moments."

" I am most delighted that I have been fortunate enough to be of any help to you, Senorita Felipa," said Columbus, his tone saying more than the somewhat formal words. Then he added more boldly: " It would be the greatest pleasure of my life if I could always be near you to assist you."

He x)ause(l abrui:>tly, fearing lest lie had said too iniicli.

Felipa had flushed deeply, but did not look displeased, although neither spoke until they reached the door of her house, when she asked without looking at him, '^ Will you not come in, sefior? "

"No, I thaidv you; I had taken leave of your mother; it remains but for me to bid you farewell, sehorita."

"Are — are the maps linishedr' asked Felii3a, struck by his tone.

" They are," said he, Avatching her face.

"And— and are you coming no more?" asked she, her eyes upon the ground, her Angers playing with her fan.

" That will be as your mother decides, sehorita," said he decidedly, and without waiting for an answer he opened the door for her, gave her one long glance, clasped her hand for a moment in his, and with a low bow was gone.

Felipa paused on the stairway, her heart beating wildly, her pretty face crimson. What could that mean but that— oh, could it be true? but her mother, what would she say? She waited until she had somewhat recovered her composure before entering her mother's room. She said nothing of her little adventure, but inquired tenderly of her niotlier as to how she had spent the morning, and even — sly little creature ! — listened as if it were the greatest news, when she was told that the maps were finished. Her mother watched her rather closely as she told her this, but Felipa's demeanor was admirable; her face did not change in the slightest.

The next morning brought a surprise to the mother in the shape of a letter, left by a boy at the door. She turned it over in her hands, wondering from whom it could come. The writing was firm and wholly unfamiliar to her. After having examined it for a sulficient length of time, she finally resolved to open it, and when she did so her curiosity was changed into amazement, consternation, perplexity, for it contained nothing less than a petition for the hand of her daughter, and was signed, " Cristoforo Colombo." At first she could scarcely credit her eyes: such an idea had really never seriously presented itself to her mind, and she read the letter several times before she fairly comprehended it.

" I am perfectly aware, sehora, of the great difference in rank between your daughter and myself, and can feel that your objections on this ground alone may be insurmountable, but can plead my love for her alone. I am jjoor, yes, but not hopelessly so. I have already a large order for maj^s and charts for a vessel about to set sail on one of the common voyages of exploring. Before presenting myself before you again, even for the sake of copying the map Avhich you so graciously gave me permission to do, I await your answer, and can but pray that it may be a favorable one," etc.

Sehora Perestrelo sat and stared at the epistle for some moments in silence. Her first thought had been instantly to write an abrupt refusal, but other thoughts obtruded themselves. Her late illness— no one kneAv better than she that this was no passing disorder, but rather a deep-seated malady; these attacks would become more and more frequent, her death might occur at any moment — and Felipa! her young, sweet, helx)less daughter! She had no one to whose charge she could commit her, knowing that she would be kindly treated. She had no near relatives ; the only ones, although wealthy, were out of the question. With them, Felipa would occujiy a position little better than that of a servant— her pretty Felipa ; no, a thousand times no! And yet, fortuneless, living ui-)on an island like Porto Santo, what bet ter chances would probably i)resent themselves for securing her child's future? This man at least had many good qualities, and, although decidedly Felipa's inferior, still

" Felipa," she called, " come here, child."

The girl obeyed, coming from the adjoining room, where she had been busy and had not heard the knock of the boy who had brought this important letter. She gazed at her mother in astonishment ; then she saw the paper lying in her lap, and gave a slight start.

Without perceiving it, her mother went straight to the point.

''This letter, Felipa, is from Senor Cristoforo Colombo, and contains nothing less than a petition for thy hand in marriage ! " Here she paused to allow the girl to grasj) the full significance of her words, meanwhile gazing at her closely. If she ex]Dected great surprise on Felipa's part she was nnstaken. A burning blush suffused her face, but she did not look amazed, rather pleased. Her mother stared at her and finally asked :

" Well, what dost thou say, Felipa? "

"It is for thee to say, mother. Thou hast said nothing."

The mother nodded with satisfaction.

" As I have said before, my child, thy birth is far superior to that of a Genoese sailor, however agreeable a man he may be "

"O mother," the girl interrupted her," he is no common sailor. I am sure — yes, I know — that he will be a great man yet. He is so clever, so wonderfully clever, he speaks so well, and "

'• But, my child," her mother interfered, rather amused, "how canst thou possibly have learned all this during the few interviews thou hast had with him?"

Felipa said nothing, abashed, but her mother continued :

" I grant thee that he is not a common man, that in fact he is rather uncommon; but whether that makes him a suitable match for Sehorita Monez de Perestrelo "

"Ah, mother! " interrupted Felipa, "what does all that matter if "

"If what, Felipa?"

" If he loves me, and— and I love him? " she concluded more boldly.

" Thou lovest him ! Thou, a mere child, lovest a man whom thou hast seen how many times, three times, Felipa?"

"Many more than that, surely, mother. Ah, mother, thou wilt consent, say thou wilt consent. It may be strange, mother, but I think I loved him the first time I saw him, he is so kind, so gentle, and yet so brave and daring."

'* Pray how dost thou know? "

" I have heard about him. Dost thou not know Mna Rinaldini, one of my pkiymates? She has told me. Her father was captain of a ship, and he — Sehor Colombo — sailed with him. Oh, she has told me many stories of his bravery "

" There, there, my child. Thou hast never mentioned this before."

" No, mother. But let me tell thee something else, for which thou shouldst surely be grateful to him, mother dear," and the girl recounted her adventure of the day before.

It cannot l^e said that this tale of rescue decided Sehora Perestrelo to give her consent, but she realized that possibly her daugliter's happiness would be seriously involved should she refuse it, and the conversation was concluded by the writing of a note in which Sehor Colombo was requested to come at a certain hour late that afternoon, and discuss the matter with her. This conversation ended most happily for the lovers. Perhaps Sehora Perestrelo had been already half won over by the man's chivalrous, gentle manners ; but be that as it may, her consent was finally given, and Felipa called into the room, where, radiant with happiness, she laid her hand in that of her betrothed.

WITH COLUMBUS 11^ AMERICA. 41

Some weeks later tliey were married in the little chapel where they had first met, with but few witnesses, among them of course Bartholomew, who had hardly recovered from the utter amazement and surprise Avhich he had felt when his brother had announced to him his engagement. He had seen his pretty little sister-in-law many times, and had become very fond of her, having also won Sehora Perestrelo's respect and liking, but he could never have won the i)lace in her heart already occupied l)y her '' dear Colombo."

It had finally been decided that the young couple and the sehora should all return to Porto Santo, where the sailor and draughtsman could now try his hand at farming, managing the little farm owned by his wife's mother, and the brothers Avere therefore soon parted again for an indefinite period. These past few months often seemed a mere dream to the solitary Bartholomew after his brother had finally departed with his bride, neither brother knowing when he would see the other, or even hear of him, as Porto Santo was somewhat isolated, and means of communication would be rare.

IV

Nearly eleven years have elapsed since Felij^a Perestrelo gave lier liand to the unknown draughtsman. But little of this time has Columbus sj^ent upon the quiet farm on Porto Santo. A new, daring scheme has been occupying him ; although he has been on many voyages, never for one instant has this scheme left his thoughts, and it is none other than a new way of seeking this long hoped-for, long-sought water route to the Indies. He has determined to sail west and find the Indies thus. This is no vague, visionary fancy ; not for months did he confide it to a soul, and only after many letters had been exchanged with the eminent astronomer Toscanelli did it seem possible that his plan might some day in the near future be carried out.

Alfonso of Portugal having applied to this astronomer inquiring what his opinion of a shorter route was, the astronomer had presented this westward scheme, using in part the maps Columbus had sent him. But ten years had passed, the aged astronomer was dead, and after all this waiting, now at last had Columbus found opportunity to present his plans to the present king, John.

The little family, Felij^a and her three children, had settled in Lisbon, where Columbus now daily hoped for an interview with the king.

Felipa had lost none of her intense admiration for her husband ; she still believed him one of the greatest, cleverest men, and hoped to see him one day universally acknowledged as such. It was she who, although not fully understanding his plans herself, yet encouraged him under his many disappointments, and the tantalizing delays which interfered with the long-hoped-for interview. It was Felipa who had herself visited her distant relatives, to whom she had long been almost an entire stranger, but, nothing daunted, she found her way to those of them whose position made it possible for them to be of use to her husband. By dint of her ardent pleading for his views — views regarded as visionary by the majority, but which yet found encouragement among a few learned men — she managed to win over two of the influential members of her family, and these two had finally secured the x)romise of a personal interview with the king.

This interview had taken x>lace, but no decision had been received ; it was for this second summons that Columbus was now waiting.

He returned home late one afternoon from an idle stroll along the banks of the river. It was a bright, cloudless day in early September, but the heat was intense. The house they had lived in for the past six months was in a close, hot quarter of the city, for money was scarce with them, and Felii^a's smooth young brow had worn a look of anxiety for some time. The outlook for the future was unj)romising. Suppose the king should decline to have anything to do with her husband's plans? And only this afternoon, her cousin, the Sehor Paolo de Martinez de Perestrelo, had been to see her, and held out but little hopes of the success of these i^lans unless certain modifications were made, and had indeed advised Felipa to persuade her husband to consent to these modifications.

Accordingly Felipa met him with a somewhat absent-minded air. At first Columbus did not l^erceive this, being occupied with his own rather gloomy thoughts. Felipa was the first to mention the subject nearest both hearts. She asked hesitatingly:

" No summons as yet, Cristoforo mio? "

WITH COLUMBUS IN AMEUICA. 45

He started from his re very and looked up. " None," said he slowly. Then after a short pause he asked, " Has no one been here to-day? "

" Sehor Paolo de Perestrelo," answered Felij)a, for she was not on sufficiently intimate terms with her relatives to address them in any less formal style.

'' And what did he have to say? "

Here Avas opening enough for Felij)a surely, but she did not hasten to improve it. Not until her husband repeated his question in a slightly surprised tone did she begin hesitatingly :

" He said that he thought — that it was the general ox)inion that— that thy demands were too great, that the king was unwilling to accede to such demands, and if thou wast to make some concessions "

" Yes, if I were to make concessions, to discover the route for them for nothing perhaps, leaving His Majesty to give all honors and rewards to some favorite courtier; "while I — I to whom it was justly due — should be left utterly unrewarded ; if I should agree to this, then perhaps they would permit me to carry out my j)lans, forsooth. No, not a single concession will I make ; I have asked but little in comparison wdth the advantages which may be theirs. And what do they lose by promising me these rewards ? Should the enterprise prove a faihire, who is the loser, who is exposed to ridicule ? The humble subject, Cristoforo Colombo, is it wdio sinks into oblivion. But it will not be a failure," he added, with a change of tone, his whole face lighting up with enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling. " It will not be a failure. It will succeed, succeed, and then! "