by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER SEVENTY FIVE.
LOVE IN THE HOUR OF PERIL.
We glided into the shadow of the tree, and passed under its trailingparasites. The pirogue touched its trunk. Mechanically I climbed alongthe sloping buttress--mechanically assisted Aurore.
We stood within the hollow chamber--the lurking-place of the runaway--and for the present were safe from pursuit. But there was no joy in ourhearts. We knew it was but a respite, without any hope of ultimateconcealment.
The encounter with Ruffin had ruined all our prospects. Whether thehunter were yet dead or alive, his presence would guide the pursuit.The way we had got off would easily be conjectured, and our hiding-placecould not long remain undiscovered.
What had passed would be likely to aggravate our pursuers, andstrengthen their determination to capture us. Before Ruffin came up,there was yet a chance of safety. Most of those engaged in the pursuitwould regard it as the mere ordinary affair of a chase after a runawaynegro--a sport of which they might get tired whenever they should losethe track. Considering for whom the hunt was got up--a man so unpopularas Gayarre,--none would have any great interest in the result, exceptinghimself and his ruffian aids. Had we left no traces where we embarkedin the pirogue, the gloomy labyrinth of forest-covered water might havediscouraged our pursuers--most of whom would have given up at thedoubtful prospect, and returned to their homes. We might have been leftundisturbed until nightfall, and it was my design to have then recrossedthe lake, landed at some new point, and, under the guidance of theBambarra, get back to the Levee Road, where we were to meet D'Hautevillewith the horses. Thence, as originally agreed upon, to the city.
All this programme, I had hastily conceived; and previous to theappearance of Ruffin, there was every probability I should succeed incarrying it out.
Even after I had shot the dogs, I did not wholly despair. There werestill many chances of success that occurred to me. The pursuers,thought I, detained by the bayou, might have lost the dogs, and wouldnot follow their track so easily. Some time would be wasted at allevents. Even should they form a correct guess as to the fate of thehounds, neither men afoot nor on horseback could penetrate to ourhiding-place. They would need boats or canoes. More time would beconsumed in bringing these from the river, and perhaps night would bedown before this could be effected. On night and D'Hauteville I stillhad confidence.
That was previous to the conflict with the man-hunter.
After that affair, circumstances had undergone a change. Alive or dead,Ruffin would guide the pursuit to where we were. If still living--andnow that my angry feeling had passed away I hoped he was--he would atonce direct the pursuers upon us.
I believed he was not dead--only wounded. His behaviour, afterreceiving the shot, had not been like that of a man mortally wounded. Ibelieved, and hoped, that he still lived:--not that I felt at allremorseful at what had happened, but from mere prudentialconsiderations. If dead, his body by the prostrate tree would soon bediscovered, and would tell the tale to those who came up. We should becaptured all the same, and might expect the more terrible consequences.
The rencontre with this ruffian had been altogether unfortunate. It hadchanged the face of affairs. Blood had been spilt _in defence of arunaway_. The news would return rapidly to the town. It would spreadthrough the plantations with lightning-speed. The whole community wouldbe fired and roused--the number of our pursuers quadrupled. I should behunted as a _double_ outlaw, and with the hostile energy of vengeance!
I knew all this, and no longer speculated upon the probabilities ofdeliverance. There was not the remotest prospect of our being able toget away.
I drew my betrothed near me. I folded her in my arms, and pressed herto my heart. Till death she would be mine! She swore it in thatshadowy spot--in that dread and darksome hour. Till death she would bemine!
Her love inspired me with courage; and with courage I awaited theresult.
Another hour passed.
Despite our fearful anticipations, that hour was pleasantly spent.Strange it is to say so, but it was in reality one of the happiest hoursI can remember. It was the first time I had been enabled to hold freeconverse with Aurore since the day of our betrothal. We were nowalone--for the faithful black stood sentinel below by the hawser of hispirogue.
The reaction, consequent upon my late jealousy, had kindled my love to arenewed and fiercer life--for such is the law of nature. In the veryardour of my affection, I almost forgot our desperate situation.
Over and over again we vowed eternal troth--over and over plighted ourmutual faith, in fond, burning words--the eloquence of our heartfeltpassion. Oh! it was a happy hour!
Alas! it came to an end. It ended with a painful regret, but not withsurprise. I was not surprised to hear horns sounding through the woods,and signal shouts answering each other in different directions. I wasnot surprised when voices came pealing across the water--loud oaths andejaculations--mingled with the plashing of paddles and the plunging ofoars; and, when the negro announced that several boats filled with armedmen were in the open water and approaching the tree, it did not take meby surprise. I had foreseen all this.
I descended to the base of the cypress, and, stooping down, looked outunder the hanging moss. I could see the surface of the lake. I couldsee the men in their canoes and skiffs, rowing and gesticulating.
When near the middle of the open water, they lay upon their oars, andheld a short consultation. After a moment they separated, and rowed incircles around, evidently with the design of encompassing the tree.
In a few minutes they had executed this manoeuvre, and now closed in,until their vessels floated among the drooping branches of the cypress.A shout of triumph told that they had discovered our retreat; and I nowsaw their faces peering through the curtain of straggling _tillandsia_.
They could see the pirogue, and both the negro and myself standing bythe bow.
"Surrender!" shouted a voice in a loud, firm tone. "If you resist, yourlives be on your own heads!"
Notwithstanding this summons, the boats did not advance any nearer.They knew that I carried pistols, and that I knew how to handle them--the proofs, were fresh. They approached, therefore, with caution--thinking I might still use my weapons.
They had no need to be apprehensive. I had not the slightest intentionof doing so. Resistance against twenty men--for there were that numberin the boats, twenty men well armed--would have been a piece ofdesperate folly. I never thought of such a thing; though, if I had, Ibelieve the Bambarra would have stood by me to the death. The bravefellow, steeled to a supernatural courage by the prospect of hispunishment, had even proposed fight! But his courage was madness; and Ientreated him not to resist--as they would certainly have slain him onthe spot.
I meant no resistance, but I hesitated a moment in making answer.
"We're all armed," continued the speaker, who seemed to have someauthority over the others. "It is useless for you to resist--you hadbetter give up!"
"Damn them!" cried another and a rougher voice; "don't waste talk onthem. Let's fire the tree, and smoke 'em out; that moss 'll burn, Ireckon!"
I recognised the voice that uttered this inhuman suggestion. It camefrom Bully Bill.
"I have no intention of making resistance," I called out in reply to thefirst speaker. "I am ready to go with you. I have committed no crime.For what I have done I am ready to answer to the laws."
"You shall answer to _us_," replied one who had not before spoken; "_we_are the laws here."
There was an ambiguity in this speech that I liked not; but there was nofurther parley. The skiffs and canoes had suddenly closed in around thetree. A dozen muzzles of pistols and rifles were pointed at me, and adozen voices commanded the negro and myself to get into one of theboats.
From the fierce, determined glances of these rough men, I saw it wasdeath or obedience.
I turned to bid adieu to Aurore, who had rushed out of the tree-cave,and stood near me
weeping.
As I faced round, several men sprang upon the buttress; and, seizing mefrom behind, held me in their united grasp. Then drawing my arms acrossmy back, tied them fast with a rope.
I could just speak one parting word with Aurore, who, no longer intears, stood regarding my captors with a look of scornful indignation.As they led me unresistingly into the boat, her high spirit gave way towords, and she cried out in a voice of scorn--
"Cowards! cowards! Not one of you dare meet him in a fair field--no,not one of you!"
The lofty spirit of my betrothed echoed mine, and gave me proof of herlove. I was pleased with it, and could have applauded; but my mortifiedcaptors gave me no time to reply; for the next moment the pirogue inwhich I had been placed shot out through the branches, and floated onthe open water of the lake.