CHAPTER XXI.
It was not until the rain-clouds had all passed by that the padre choseto embark. The wind was still high, and our frail canoes were roughlycradled on the river's turbulent bosom.
Padre Felipe, Barbara, and I, with two Indians, filled the smaller ofthe two piraguas; the other held five Indians and a store of provisionsfor the journey.
The afternoon sky was naught but windy gloom; white clouds rolled overus in billowy folds, and tattered scarves of mist trailed lower stilland seemed almost to snare their fringes on the topmost branches of theforest. Close under the protecting river-bank sped our light canoes,cutting their way through the gray waters. The dark-skinned crews bentto the paddle silently, with corded muscles tightening in their leanbrown arms, and still, impassive faces fixed upon the seething currentor the swiftly flying shores.
The gloom deepened slowly with the coming of the night. The watersdarkened, the dun forest became black and vague. At last, to my eyes,it seemed that the sailing shadows in the sky, the inky, swirlingstream, and the mysterious shores blended in one all-pervadingimpenetrable midnight. I could not realize that we were moving; itseemed, rather, that we alone were still, while over us and around usthe spirits of the night flew past. I felt the wind of unseen wingslifting my hair; I heard the splash and gurgle of strange creaturesswimming by. With my hands close locked on Barbara's arm, and wide eyesstaring into nothingness, I waited for some human sound to break thepalpitating silence.
Finally the padre spoke. He asked some question in the Indian tongue.One of the rowers grunted in reply, and there was a sudden cessation ofthe rapid paddle-strokes. Then a signal was given to the other canoe,and after some further discussion I felt that we approached the shore.There was a scraping, jarring sound, followed by the soft trampling offeet upon a marshy bank; and then a hand drew me up and guided me toland.
"The tide is running too strongly against us," explained the voice ofPadre Felipe. "We will rest an hour or two and wait for it to turn."
They kindled a fire somehow and spread a blanket upon the damp ground.I remember that Barbara and I stretched ourselves upon it and I laid myhead against the dame's shoulder,--then weariness overcame me.
It seemed the very next moment that I was roused; but the fire was out,and in the sky glimmered a few dim stars. There was a strange calmreigning as we re-embarked; for the wind had died and the whole aspectof the night had changed. All around us a faintly luminous sky lifteditself above the dense horizon line, and the broad bosom of the riverpaled to the hue of molten lead. Still brighter grew the heavens; thethin clouds drew aside, and the crescent of a waning moon spilled gloryover us. And now our dark piraguas sped over the surface of a silverstream, and every paddle-blade dripped diamonds.
It is a noble river, this San Juan, with its broad sweeps and curves. Attimes it widens to a lake, and again thrusts itself into the shores asthough its waters filled the print of some giant hand that in ages pasthad rested heavily with outspread fingers on the yielding soil. Aided bythe strong current we glided on as swiftly as the passing hours. Ourfaces were set eastward now, and I waited, breathless, for the day towake.
There was a slow parting of the filmy skies, as though Dawn's rosyfingers brushed aside the curtains of her couch; then came a gleam ofgolden hair that slid across her downy pillows. A long-drawn sighshivered across the silent world, and with a sudden dazzlement we saw--
--"the opening eyelids of the Morn."
From the southwest a fresh wind arose and swept clean the blue heavens;and, with the early sunbeams sparkling on the ripples of the tide, thecanoes darted on toward the river's mouth. A heron flew up from themarshes suddenly, and sailed over our heads on its strong white wings.As I watched it dip out of sight in the river far beyond us I caughtsight of another gleaming wing that slowly unfurled itself toward thesky.
Touching the padre's arm, I pointed to it.
"A sail!" he said.
Our canoes quickly sought the curve of the shore and crept with cautiontoward the unknown vessel.
"It can scarcely be the Habana ship," murmured the padre, "for the_Virgen de la Mar_ was at anchor in the harbour when we left SanAugustin, and ere morning the storm had risen, so she would hardly haveventured forth to sea."
"There are other vessels carrying sail that ply between the fort andthese coast islands. We came from Santa Catalina aboard one of them," Iwhispered.
"Yes," said the padre, "but this is too large." He paused for somemoments, and then added: "Do you see the long, straight lines of herhull, and the square stern? This is no Spanish galley, but a frigate ofEnglish build."
"'Tis the _Carolina_!" I exclaimed, "'tis the _Carolina_!"
"Oh! the blessed, blessed English ship!" sobbed the good dame.
Then all energies were bent to reach her, for it was plain that she wasmaking ready to leave her anchorage.
"If we could only signal to those on board!" I cried. "Loose yourneck-kerchief, Barbara, and wave it--wave it in the sunlight!"
"We are too close to the shore," the padre said. "She can scarcedistinguish us until we strike out into the open."
"But how plainly we can perceive her crew! And see the stir upon thedecks--are they not drawing up the anchor? Oh, Padre Felipe!" I criedpiteously, "wave to them! signal them! or they will leave us after all!"
The friar rose carefully to his feet; he, too, was heartily glad of thischance to be rid of his charges, and in no mind to let it slip by. WithBarbara's white kerchief in his hand he was about to make another effortto attract the notice of the _Carolina_, when suddenly he glanced overhis shoulder toward the land, his hand fell quickly to his side, and hedropped back into his seat with an exclamation of dismay.
One of the Indians rose immediately, and with shaded eyes gazed alongthe beach as it stretched away southward to San Augustin. He gave agrunt of acquiescence and sat down, and the motion of the paddlesceased.
"What have you seen?" I cried in agony, struggling also to my feet.
We were so near the river's mouth--almost upon the blue waves of theocean rolling out to the shining east! Under the lee of the northernshore lay the English ship; and south of us the coast spun out itsgleaming line of sandy beach away, away back to the prison we had left.But what were those dark forms that swarmed the sands?
"We are too late!" muttered the Spanish friar. "Discovering your flight,they have not waited for calm weather to follow in a swiftsailing-vessel, as I had thought they would, but have sent out asearch-party afoot to overtake you at the outset."
"But we must reach the _Carolina_ before they arrive, Padre!"
"It can be done, easy enough," he answered, "but what shall I and myfollowers do if we are seen? Girl, I have too much at stake! I choosenot to incur the Governor's anger. 'Tis not likely that they connect uswith your disappearance, for Dona Orosia swore to shield me in thematter. I have done all I could. It is thus far and no farther. But youmay yet escape; 'tis only a little distance to the ship; take up thepaddles and make your way thither."
As he spoke he stepped from our canoe to the larger one which had closedup with us, and the two Indians followed him.
"Padre! oh, Padre! Do not leave me, do not desert me!"
They paid no heed to my appeal save to give a mighty shove to our canoethat sent it out toward midstream; then, seizing their paddles, withswift strokes they sent their own piragua speeding up the river.
It had all passed so quickly--so suddenly our hopes had been destroyed!Barbara and I had been thrown forward by the impetus given to our frailboat, and we cowered down in silence for a moment. The current was stillbearing us outward; but every second our motion slackened: we wouldnever reach the ship without some effort on our part.
I seized a paddle and worked vigorously; but the light boat only swunground and round.
"Barbara!" I cried, "take the other paddle and work with me. I can donothing all alone!"
The dame obeyed me, sobbing and praying under her breath;
but we madesorry work of it.
I looked shoreward and could see our pursuers drawing closer and closer;they had not yet perceived us, but in a moment more they could not failto do so. As they drew still nearer, riding on his dappled gray in themidst of them, I recognized Melinza! With him were a troop of Spanishsoldiers--I saw the sunlight flashing on their arms--and some twentyhalf-naked Indians, who might so easily swim out and drag us back toland!
"They see us! Mistress Margaret, they see us!" shouted Barbara.
"Oh! not yet, dame, not yet!" I groaned, plying the paddle wildly.
"The English, my lamb--the English see us! Look you, they are puttingput a boat from the ship!"
It was true; but ere I could utter a "Thank God!" a yell from the shoretold us that those fiends had seen us also. Barbara would have droppedher paddle in despair, but I ordered her sternly to make what play shecould. As for me, I dipped my blade now on one side, now on the other;the trick of it had come to me like an inspiration; my fingers tightenedtheir hold, and my arms worked with the strength born of a great terror.
Our pursuers had reached the river-shore, and a swarm of dark forms nowthrew themselves into the stream. But the long-boat from the frigatecame toward us rapidly; I saw white English faces and heard shouts ofencouragement in my mother tongue.
Then a volley of musketry rang out from the land. Instantly, the frigatemade response; her heavy guns thundered forth, and the white smokewreathed her like a cloud. But all the shots were falling short.
"NEARER CAME THE LONG BOAT, YET NEARER WAS THE FOREMOSTSWIMMER."--_Page 162._]
Nearer came the long-boat, yet nearer was the foremost swimmer. I sawhis brown arms cleaving the clear tide, I saw the white eyeballsgleaming in his dark face. Friends and foes were now so close togetherthat from the shore it was impossible to distinguish them; so the shotshad ceased, and in their place rang out wild curses and savage yells. Asinewy brown hand rose from the water and seized the edge of ourfrail canoe, tilting it far over. The sudden jerk destroyed my balance,and in a moment I felt the waters close over my head.
Strong hands grasped me as I rose again and I battled fiercely; for Ithought the Indian had me in his hold, and I chose rather, to die. Butmy weak strength was overcome, and I was lifted--aye, thank God!--liftedinto the English boat, and Master Collins wiped the water from my face.
I saw them drag the dame in also, and then I closed my eyes. I did notfaint,--never in all my life had I been so very much alive; but thesunlight and the blue sky were too bright for me.
I cannot tell much of what followed. There were a few more shots, andone of the English sailors dropped his oar and held up a bleeding hand.I sought my kerchief to bind it up for him, but I could not find it. Andthen, I looked up and saw the _Carolina_ close beside us. A ringingcheer went up to heaven, and kind hands raised me to the deck. Thesunburnt face of Captain Brayne bent over me, and there were tears inhis honest eyes.
CHAPTER XXII.
There were other women on the ship, and one of them came forward and ledme away to her cabin and aided me to rid myself of my drenched garments,lending me others in their stead. I learned from her that the _Carolina_had come direct from Barbadoes, bearing freight and some very fewpassengers,--the noise of our treatment at the Spaniards' handsdeterring many who would else have ventured to throw in their lot withthe young colony. Captain Brayne bore also the duplicate of the ordersof the Spanish Council--which had been forwarded from England toBarbadoes; and he had been instructed by their Lordships theProprietors, to stop at San Augustin and demand the prisoners.
All this my new friend told me during her kindly ministrations. Sheasked, also, many questions concerning my escape and the treatment I hadreceived during our long captivity; but I was too exhausted to answerthese at length, and begged that I might be left awhile to rest. Shewent away then, to get me a soothing potion from the ship's surgeon;and I made haste to unwrap the little packet that had lain hidden in mybosom, in which was the written story of my prison life. As I smoothedout the damp pages I thought of how I would place it in my dear love'shand and leave him to read all that my tongue could never say to him!
I slept for some hours and woke refreshed. Then came a message from thecaptain, asking if I would see him. I was eager to be out, for manyreasons, the chief being my desire to see him from whom I had been solong parted; it was his face I sought first among the many familiar onesthat crowded round me. Besides Captain Brayne I recognized otherofficers of the _Carolina_ as the same with whom I had sailed from theDowns nearly two years ago. All my fellow prisoners--save one--greetedme joyfully and kindly. But that one missing face--where was it?
It was on my tongue to ask for Mr. Rivers; then, of a sudden, it cameover me _how_ we had parted. So! and he still believed me--that thingwhich I had shown myself. He had nursed his doubts for two whole daysand nights, and now he would not even come forward to touch my hand andwish me joy of my escape. It seemed to me I caught glances of pitypassing between one and another of the lookers-on. Did they wait to seehow Margaret Tudor would bear her lover's apathy? A jilted maid!
There was a mist before my eyes; but I smiled and said little graciouswords of thanks to each and all of them, and wished in my heart that Iwas dead. Oh, my love! whatever doubts you may have had of me were paidback that cruel moment in full measure. I recalled some of the hardspeeches I had heard from the embittered Spanish woman, and I thoughtwithin myself, All men are made after the same pattern!
Captain Brayne and Master Collins and good old Captain Baulk of the_Three Brothers_ had been in earnest conversation for some moments; andnow the _Carolina's_ commander came to me and took me gently by thehand, leading me aside.
"Mistress Margaret," he said, "there is one aboard this ship to whomyour coming may mean life instead of death. He is very ill,--so ill thatwe despaired of him till now,--and one name is ever on his lips. Are youtoo weak and unstrung, my dear young lady, to go with me to his sickbed?"
That was how the truth came to me. I cannot write of what I felt.
"Take me to him," I said.
He lay in his berth; his large eyes were alight with fever, and he wastalking ceaselessly, now in broken whispers, now with a proud defiancein his husky tones.
"God knows what the devils did to him," murmured Henry Brayne. "He wasonce a proper figure of a man; but starvation and ill usage have wornhim to a shadow!"
Aye, but a shadow with a gnawing sorrow at its heart.
"You may taunt me, Senor de Melinza," whispered the broken voice, "youmay taunt me with my helplessness. I may not break these bonds, it istrue; but neither can you sever those that bind to me the love of atrue-hearted English maid.... That is a foul lie, Don Pedro, and I castit back into your teeth!... Strike a helpless prisoner? Do so, and youadd but another black deed to the long score that stands against thename of Spaniard. Some day the reckoning will come, senor--I dare stakemy soul on that!... I'll not believe it; no! not upon your oath, DonPedro!... Margaret, Margaret! Tell him he lies, dear lady!... In God'sname, speak, sweetheart!" And though I knelt beside him, and called hisname again and again, he was deaf to my voice and put me by with feeblehands, crying ever: "Margaret! Margaret!" till I thought my heart wouldbreak.
Oh! the terror of this new jailer--dread Disease--that held him in itsgrip while Death lurked grimly in the background! For no wiles orblandishments of mine could move them or loose their hold upon the lifemost dear to me. When there was but man to deal with, my faith failed meand I ceased praying; now it was my punishment that only God's mercycould set my dear love free,--and it might be his pleasure to loose himin another world and leave me still on earth to mourn his loss.
As, hour after hour, I listened to his ravings, a deeper understandingof the horrors of his long captivity began to grow upon me. I couldscarce forbear crying out when I thought how I had touched the hand ofthat vile Spaniard, and listened, smiling, when he spoke of love to me.
How terrible a thing is hatred! Heaven pardon me, but I th
ink there issomewhat of it in my heart. Yet, now that the fever is abating, and mybeloved is coming back to me from the very brink of the grave, I do praythat I may forgive mine enemy, even as God in His clemency has pardonedme!
* * * * *
He knows me at last. It was some hours ago. I was bending over him, anda light of recognition dawned in his eyes.
"Margaret! _Margaret!_ is it _you_? I dreamed just now----that----thatyou were untrue to me!"
"Did you so, dear love?" I answered. "Forget it then, and rest; for nowthe fever and the dreams are past."
He smiled at me and fell asleep like a little child.
* * * * *
In the long hours that I have watched beside him I have written theselast pages of my story; and some time, when he is awake and strongenough to bear the truth, I will put them all into his hand and leavehim here alone. And I think, when he has read them through to the end,he will discern--between the lines--more of my heart than I have wordsto tell.
Margaret Tudor: A Romance of Old St. Augustine Page 21