The Maid-At-Arms: A Novel

by Robert W. Chambers

  XXI

  THE CRISIS

  For a while I lay there stupefied, limp-limbed, lifeless, closing myaching eyes under the glittering red rays of the westering sun.

  My parched throat throbbed and throbbed; I could scarcely stir, even toclose my swollen hands where they had tied my wrists, although somebodyhad cut the cords that bound me.

  "Sir George," I said, in a low voice.

  "Yes, I am here," he replied, instantly.

  "Are you hurt?"

  "No, Ormond. Are you?"

  "No; very tired; that is all."

  I rolled over; my head reeled and I held it in my benumbed hands,looking at Sir George, who lay on his side, cheek pillowed on his arms.

  "This is a miserable end of it all," he said, with calm bitterness. "Butthat it involves you, I should not dare blame fortune for the fool Iacted. I have my deserts; but it's cruel for you."

  The sickening whirling in my head became unendurable. I lay down, facinghim, eyes closed.

  "It was not your fault," I said, dully.

  "There is no profit in discussing that," he muttered. "They took usalive instead of scalping us; while there's life there's hope, ... alittle hope.... But I'd sooner they'd finish me here than rot in theirstinking prison-ships.... Ormond, are you awake?"

  "Yes, Sir George."

  "If they--if the Indians get us, and--and begin their--you know--"

  "Yes; I know."

  "If they begin ... that ... insult them, taunt them, sneer at them,laugh at them!--yes, laugh at them! Do anything to enrage them, sothey'll--they'll finish quickly.... Do you understand?"

  "Yes," I muttered; and my voice sounded miles away.

  He lay brooding for a while; when I opened my eyes he broke outfretfully: "How was I to dream that McCraw could be so near!--that hedared raid us within a mile of the house! Oh, I could die of shame,Ormond! die of shame!... But I won't die that way; oh no," he added,with a frightful smile that left his face distorted and white.

  He raised himself on one elbow.

  "Ormond," he said, staring at vacancy, "what trivial matters a manthinks of in the shadow of death. I can't consider it; I can't bereconciled to it; I can't even pray. One absurd idea possesses me--thatSingleton will have the Legion now; and he's a slack drill-master--heis, indeed!... I've a million things to think of--an idle life toconsider, a misspent career to repent, but the time is too short,Ormond.... Perhaps all that will come at the instant of--of--"

  "Death," I said, wearily.

  "Yes, yes; that's it, death. I'm no coward; I'm calm enough--but I'mstunned. I can't think for the suddenness of it!... And you just home;and Ruyven there, snuggled close to you as a house-cat--and then thatsound of galloping, like a fly-stung herd of cattle in a pasture!"

  "I think Ruyven is safe," I said, closing my eyes.

  "Yes, he's safe. Nobody chased him; they'll know at the manor by thistime; they knew long ago.... My men will be out.... Where arewe, Ormond?"

  "I don't know," I murmured, drowsily. The months of fatigue, theunbroken strain, the feverish weeks spent in endless trails, theconstant craving for movement to occupy my thoughts, the sleeplessnights which were the more unendurable because physical exhaustion couldnot give me peace or rest, now told on me. I drowsed in the verypresence of death; and the stupor settled heavily, bringing, for thefirst time since I left Varick Manor, rest and immunity from despair oreven desire.

  I cared for nothing: hope of her was dead; hope of life might die and Iwas acquiescent, contented, glad of the end. I had endured too much.

  My sleep--or unconsciousness--could not have lasted long; the sun wasnot yet level with my eyes when I roused to find Sir George tugging atmy sleeve and a man in a soiled and tarnished scarlet uniformstanding over me.

  But that brief respite from the strain had revived me; a bucket of coldwater stood near the fire, and I thrust my burning face into it,drinking my fill, while the renegade in scarlet bawled at me and fumedand cursed, demanding my attention to what he was saying.

  "You damned impudent rebel!" he yelled; "am I to stand around hereawaiting your pleasure while you swill your skin full?"

  I wiped my lips with my torn hands, and got to my feet painfully, atrifle dizzy for a moment, but perfectly able to stand and tocomprehend.

  "I'm asking you," he snarled, "why we can't send a flag to your peoplewithout their firing on it?"

  "I don't know what you mean," I said.

  "I do," said Sir George, blandly.

  "Oh, you do, eh?" growled the renegade, turning on him with a scowl."Then tell me why our flag of truce is not respected, if you can."

  "Nobody respects a flag from outlaws," said Sir George, coolly.

  The fellow's face hardened and his eyes blazed. He started to speak,then shut his mouth with a snap, turned on his heel, and strode acrossthe treeless glade to where his noisy riders were saddling up,tightening girths, buckling straps, and examining the unshod feet oftheir horses or smoothing out the burrs from mane and tail. The red sunglittered on their spurs, rifles, and the flat buckles of theircross-belts. Their uniform was scarlet and green, but some wore beadedshirts of scarlet holland, belted in with Mohawk wampum, and some werepartly clothed like Cayuga Indians and painted with Senecawar-symbols--a grewsome sight.

  There were savages moving about the fire--or I took them for savages,until one half-naked lout, lounging near, taunted me with a Scotch burrin his throat, and I saw, in his horribly painted face, a pair offlashing eyes fixed on me. And the eyes were blue.

  There was something in that ghastly masquerade so horrible, sounspeakably revolting, that a shiver of pure fear touched me in everynerve. Except for the voice and the eyes, he looked the counterpart ofthe Senecas moving about near us; his skin, bare to the waist, wasstained a reddish copper hue; his black hair was shaved except for theknot; war-paint smeared visage and chest, and two crimson quills rosefrom behind his left ear, tied to the scalp-lock.

  "Let him alone; don't answer him; he's worse than the Indians,"whispered Sir George.

  Among the savages I saw two others with light eyes, and a third I nevershould have suspected had not Sir George pointed out his feet, whichwere planted on the ground like the feet of a white man when he walked,and not parallel or toed-in.

  But now the loud-voiced riders were climbing into their saddles; theofficer in scarlet, who had cursed and questioned us, came towards usleading a horse.

  "You treacherous whelps!" he said, fiercely; "if a flag can't go to yousafely, we must send one of you with it. By Heaven! you're both fit forroasting, and it sickens me to send you! But one of you goes and theother stays. Now fight it out--and be quick!"

  An amazed silence followed; then Sir George asked why one of us was tobe liberated and the other kept prisoner.

  "Because your sneaking rebel friends fire on the white flag, I tellyou!" cried the fellow, furiously; "and we've got to get a message tothem. You are Captain Sir George Covert, are you not? Very good. Yourrebel friends have taken Captain Walter Butler and mean to hang him. Nowyou tell your people that we've got Colonel Ormond and we'll exchangeyou both, a colonel and a captain, for Walter Butler. Do you understand?That's what we value you at; a rebel colonel and a rebel captain for asingle loyal captain."

  Sir George turned to me. "There is not the faintest chance of anexchange," he said, in French.

  "Stop that!" threatened the man in scarlet, laying his hand on hishanger. "Speak English or Delaware, do you hear?"

  "Sir George," I said, "you will go, of course. I shall remain and takethe chance of exchange."

  "Pardon," he said, coolly; "I remain here and pay the piper for the tuneI danced to. You will relieve me of my obligations by going," headded, stiffly.

  "No," I said; "I tell you I don't care. Can't you understand that a manmay not care?"

  "I understand," he replied, staring at me; "and I am that man, Ormond.Come, get into your saddle. Good-bye. It is all right; it is perfectlyjust, and--it doesn't matter."

&nb
sp; A shrill voice broke out across the cleared circle. "Billy Bones! BillyBones! Hae ye no flints f'r the lads that ride? Losh, mon, we'll no beganging north the day, an' ye bide droolin' there wi' the blitherin'Jacobites!"

  "The flints are in McBarron's wagon! Wait, wait, Francy McCraw!" And hehurried away, bawling for the teamster McBarron.

  "Sir George," I said, "take the chance, in Heaven's name, for I shallnot go. Don't dispute; don't stand there! Man, man, don't delay, I tellyou, or they'll change their plan!"

  "I won't go," he said, sharply. "Ormond, am I a contemptible poltroonthat I should leave you here to endure the consequences of my ownnegligence? Do you think I could accept life at that price?"

  "I tell you to go!" I said, harshly. A horrid hope, a terrible andunworthy temptation, had seized me like a thing from hell. I trembled;sweat broke out on me, and I set my teeth, striving to think as thewoman I had lost would have had me think. "Quick!" I muttered, "don'twait, don't delay; don't talk to me, I tell you! Go! Go! Get out ofmy sight--"

  And all the time, pounding in my brain, the pulse beat out a shamefulthought; and mad temptations swarmed, whispering close to my ringingears that his death was my only chance, my only possiblesalvation--and hers!

  "Go!" I stammered, pushing him towards the horse; "get into your saddle!Quick, I tell you--I--I can't endure this! I am not made to endureeverything, I tell you! Can't you have a little mercy on me andleave me?"

  "I refuse," he said, sullenly.

  "You refuse!" I stammered, beside myself with the torture I could nolonger bear. "Then stand aside! I'll go--I'll go if it costs me--No! No!I can't; I can't, I tell you; it costs too much!... Damn you, you mayhave the woman I love, but you shall leave me her respect!"

  "Ormond! Ormond!" he cried, in sorrowful amazement; but I was clean outof my head now, and I closed with him, dragging him towards the horse.

  He shook himself free, glaring at me.

  "I am ... your superior ... officer!" I panted, advancing on him; "Iorder you to go!"

  He looked me narrowly in the eyes. "And I refuse obedience," he said,hoarsely. "You are out of your mind!"

  "Then, by God!" I shrieked, "I'll force you!"

  Billy Bones, Francy McCraw, and a Seneca came hastening up. I leaped onMcCraw and dealt him a blow full in his bony face, splitting the leancheek open.

  They overpowered me before I could repeat the blow; they flung me down,kicking and pounding me as I lay there, but the death-stroke I awaitedwas withheld; the castete of the Seneca was jerked from his fist.

  Then they seized Sir George and forced him into his saddle, calling onfour troopers to pilot him within sight of the manor and shoot him if heattempted to return.

  "You tell them that if they refuse to exchange Walter Butler for Ormond,we've torments for Colonel Ormond that won't kill him under a week!"roared Billy Bones.

  McCraw, stupefied with amazement and rage, stood mopping the blood fromhis blotched face, staring at me out of his crazy blue eyes. For amoment his hand fiddled with his hatchet, then Bones shoved him away,and he strode off towards his horsemen, who were forming in columnof fours.

  "You tell 'em," shouted Bones, "that before we finish him they'll hearhis screams in Albany! If they want Colonel Ormond," he added, his voicerising to a yell, "tell 'em to send a single man into the sugar-bush.But if they hang Walter Butler, or if you try to catch us with yourcavalry, we'll take Ormond where we'll have leisure to see what ourSenecas can do with him! Now ride! you damned--"

  He struck Sir George's horse with the flat of his hanger; the horsebounded off, followed by four of McCraw's riders, pistols cocked andhatchets loosened.

  Bruised, dazed, exhausted, I lay there, listening to the recedingthudding of their horses' feet on the moss.

  The crisis was over, and I had won--not as I might have chosen to win,but by a compromise with death for deliverance from temptation.

  If it was the compromise of a crazed creature, insane from mental andphysical exhaustion, it was not the compromise of a weak man; I did notdesire death as long as she lived. I dreaded to leave her alone in theworld. But, though she loved him not--and did love me--I could notaccept the future through his sacrifice and live to remember that he hadlaid down his life for a friend who desired from him more than he hadrenounced.

  I was perfectly sane now; a strange calmness came over me; my mind wasclear and composed; my meditations serene. Free at last from hope, fromsorrowful passion, from troubled desire, I lay there thinking, watchingthe long, red sun-rays slanting through the woods.

  Gratitude to God for a life ended ere I fell from His grace, eretemptation entangled me beyond deliverance; humble pride in thehonorable traditions that I had received and followed untainted; deep,reverent thankfulness for the strength vouchsafed me in this supremecrisis of my life--the strength of a madman, perhaps, but still strengthto be true, the power to renounce--these were the meditations thatbrought me rest and a quietude I had never known when death seemed along way off and life on earth eternal.

  The setting sun crimsoned the pines; the riders were gathered along thehill-side, bending far out in their saddles to scan the valley below.McCraw, his white face bound with a bloody rag, drew his straightclaymore and wound the tattered tartan around his wrist, motioning BillyBones to ride on.

  "March!" he cried, in his shrill voice, laying his claymore level; andthe long files moved off, spurs and scabbards clanking, horses crowdingand trampling in, faster and faster, till a far command set themtrotting, then galloping away into the west, where the kindling skyreddened the world.

  The world!--it would be the same to-morrow without me: that maple-treewould not have changed a leaf; that tiny, hovering, gauze-wingedcreature, drifting through the calm air, would be alive when I was dead.

  It was difficult to understand. I repeated it to myself again and again,but the phrases had no meaning to me.

  The sun set; cool, violet lights lay over the earth; a thrush, awakenedby the sweetness of the twilight from his long summer moping, whistledtimidly, tentatively; then the silvery, evanescent notes floated away,away, in endless, heavenly serenity.

  A soft, leather-shod foot nudged me; I sat up, then rose, holding outmy wrists. They tied me loosely; a tall warrior stepped beside me;others fell in behind with a patter of moccasined feet.

  Then came an officer, pistol cocked and held muzzle up. He was the onlywhite man left.

  "Forward," he said, nervously; and we started off through the purpledusk.

  Physical weariness and pain had left me; I moved as in a dream. Nothingof apprehension or dismay disturbed the strange calm of my soul; evendesire for meditation left me; and a vague content wrapped me, mindand body.

  Distance, time, were meaningless to me now; I could go on forever; Icould lie down forever; nothing mattered; nothing could touch me now.

  The moon came up, flooding the woods with a creamy light; then a littlestream, sparkling like molten silver, crossed our misty path; then abare hill-side stretched away, pale in the moonlight, vanishing into aluminous veil of vapor, floating over a hollow where unseen water lay.

  We entered a grove of still trees standing wide apart--maple-trees, withthe sap-pegs still in the bark. I sat down on a log; the Indians seatedthemselves in a wide circle around me; the renegade officer walked tothe fringe of trees and stood there motionless.

  Time passed serenely; I had fallen drowsing, soothed by the silveredsilence; when through a dream I heard a cock-crow.

  Around me the Indians rose, all listening. Far away a sound grew in thenight--the dull blows of horses' hoofs on sod; a shot rang faintly, adistant cry was echoed by a long-drawn yell and a volley.

  The renegade officer came running back, calling out, "McCraw has struckthe Legion at the grist-mill!" In the intense silence around me thenoise of the conflict grew, increasing, then became fainter and fainteruntil it died out to the westward and all was still.

  The Indians came crowding back from the edge of the grove, shovingthrough
the circle of those who guarded me, pushing, pressing, surgingaround me.

  "Give him to us!" they muttered, under their breath. "The flag has notcome; they will hang your Walter Butler! Give him to us! The Legioncavalry is driving your riders into the west! Give him to us! We wish tosee how the Oriskany man can die!"

  Dragged, pulled from one to another, I scarcely felt their clutch; Iscarcely felt the furtive blows that fell on me. The officer clung tome, fighting the savages back with fist and elbow.

  "Wait for McCraw!" he panted. "The flag may come yet, you fools! Wouldyou murder him and lose Walter Butler forever? Wait till McCraw comes, Itell you!"

  "McCraw is riding for his life!" said a chief, fiercely.

  "It's a lie!" said the officer; "he is drawing them to ambush!"

  "Give the prisoner to us!" cried the savages, closing in. "After all,what do we care for your Walter Butler!" And again they rushed forwardwith a shout.

  Twice the officer drove them back with kicks and blows, cursing theirtreachery in McCraw's absence; then, as they drew their knives,clamoring, threatening, gathering for a last rush, into their midstbounded an unearthly shape--a squat and hideous figure, fluttering withscarlet rags. Arms akimbo, the thing planted itself before me, mouthingand slavering in fury.

  "The Toad-woman! Catrine Montour! The Toad-witch!" groaned the Senecas,shrinking back, huddling together as the hag whirled about andpointed at them.

  "I want him! I want him! Give him to me!" yelped the Toad-woman."Fools! Do you know where you are? Do you know this grove ofmaple-trees?"

  The Indians, amazed and cowed, slunk farther back. The hag fixed herblazing eyes on them and raised her arms.

  "Fools! Fools!" she mouthed, "what madness brought you here to thisgrove?--to this place where the Stonish Giants have returned, riding outof Biskoona!"

  A groan burst from the Indians; a chief raised his arms, making theFalse-Faces' sign.

  "Mother," he stammered, "we did not know! We heard that the StonishGiants had returned; the Onondagas sent us word, but we did not knowthis grove was where they gathered from Biskoona! McCraw sent us here toawait the flag."

  "Liar!" hissed the hag.

  "It is the truth," muttered the chief, shuddering. "Witness if I speakthe truth, O ensigns of the three clans!"

  And a hollow groan burst from the cowering savages. "We witness, mother.It is the truth!"

  "Witch!" cried the officer, in a shaking voice, "what would you do withmy prisoner? You shall not have him, by the living God!"

  "Senecas, take him!" howled the hag, pointing at the officer. The fellowstrove to draw his claymore, but staggered and sank to the ground,covered under a mass of savages. Then, dragged to his feet, they pulledhim back, watching the Toad-woman for a sign.

  "To purge this grove! To purge the earth of the Stonish Giants!" shehowled. "For this I ask this prisoner. Give him to me!--to me, priestessof the six fires! Tiyanoga calls from behind the moon! What Seneca daresdisobey? Give him to me for a sacrifice to Biskoona, that the Stonishghosts be laid and the doors of fire be closed forever!"

  "Take him! Spare us the dreadful rites, O mother!" answered the chief,in a quivering voice. "Slay him before us now and let us see the colorof his blood, so that we may depart in peace ere the Stonish Giants rideforth from Biskoona and leave not one among us!"

  "Neah!" cried the hag, furiously. "He dies in secret!"

  There was a silence of astonishment. Spite of their superstitiousterror, the Senecas knew that a sacrificial death, to close Biskoona,could not occur in secret. Suddenly the chief leaped forward and dealtme a blow with his castete. I fell, but staggered to my feet again.

  "Mother!" began the chief, "let him die quickly--"

  "Silence!" screamed the hag, supporting me. "I hear, far off, the gatesof Biskoona opening! Hark! Ta-ho-ne-ho-ga-wen! The doors open--the doorsof flame! The Stonish Giants ride forth! O chief, for your sacrilegeyou die!"

  A horrified silence followed; the chief reeled back, dropping thedeath-maul.

  Suddenly a horse's iron-shod foot rang out on a stone, close at hand.Straight through the moonlight, advancing steadily, came a snortinghorse; and, towering in the saddle, a magic shape clad in completesteel, glittering in the moonlight.

  "Oonah!" shrieked the hag, seizing me in both arms.

  With an unearthly howl the Senecas fled; the Toad-woman dropped me andbounded on the dazed renegade; he turned, crying out in horror,stumbled, and fell headlong down the bushy slope.

  Then, as the hag halted, she seemed to grow, straightening up, tall,broad, superb; towering into a supple shape from which the scarlet ragsfell fluttering around her like painted maple-leaves.

  "Magdalen Brant!" I gasped, swaying where I stood, the blood almostblinding me.

  From behind two steel-clad arms seized me and dragged me backward; Istumbled against the horse; the armored figure bent swiftly, caught meup, swung me clear into the saddle in front, while the armor creaked andstrained and clashed with the effort.

  Then my head was drawn gently back, falling on a steel shoulder; twoarms were thrust under mine, seizing the bridle. The horse wheeledtowards the north, stepping quietly through the moonlight, steadily,slowly northward, through misty woodlands and ferny glades and deepfields swimming under the moon, across a stony stream, up through wetmeadows, into a silvery road, and across a bridge which echoed mellowthunder under the trample of the iron-shod horse.

  The stockade gate was shut; an old slave opened it--a trembling blackman, who shot the bolts and tottered beside us, crying and pressing myhand to his eyes.

  Men came from the stables, men ran from the quarters, lanternsglimmered, windows in the house opened, and I heard a vague clamorgrowing around me, fainter now, yet dinning in my ears until a soft,dense darkness fell, weighing on my lids till they closed.