CHAPTER XXXIX.
HOW I WAS LED ON BY PASSION TO CUT A MAN'S THROAT.
As soon as I had got the better of my ecstasy, I held the letter againup to the light, yet could not make out one word of it, for the tears ofgladness in my eyes. However, I brushed these away with my handimpatiently, and so held the letter up again, but still with the knifein my hand, for I was now more eager than ever to accomplish my designand overtake my lady, who, I doubted not, had writ me some comfortingwords to let me know how I might best come at her. And now, my eyesbeing clear, I read her letter, which I can repeat word for word; for,sure, I read it a hundred times, and each word did engrave itself intomy memory.
"We are overtaken," the letter began, "by soldiers charged to carry usback to Castello Lagos, and surrender us into the hands of Rodrigues. Tosave me from such a fate, which was worse than death tenfold, Senhor dePino has offered to convey me to Caracas. I have tried, but in vain, toobtain the same favor for you; but he dare not venture upon it. Indeed,he endangers his own life in saving me, wherefore I look to you tosupport the story he has given out to account for not obeying thegovernor's orders to the letter--to wit, that I have perished by theway. I know you are too reasonable and too generous to bear me ill-willfor abandoning you, for sure you will own I have no choice but to do so.Farewell, Benet. Oh, may Providence be merciful to you!"
When I had came to the end, and turned it about, to see if there was notsome little kind word that I had overlooked and could find none, theknife dropped from my hand; and truly all vigor and power seemed gonefrom my body, so that my limbs trembled under me as if I had just risenfrom a bed of sickness.
Then I could not believe I had read aright, and so went through it againand again and again; after that, pondering each word, to see if I couldnot make it appear a little better than it looked.
At last, when I could no longer see the writing for want of light, Iflung myself prone on the ground, and gave myself up to the mostmiserable reflections ever man endured. It was as if a miser hadsuddenly discovered all his gold turned to fine ashes; for no miser everprized his pieces for their true ring and bright lustre more than Ivalued Lady Biddy for her loyalty, and generous, loving disposition; andnow I could find nothing but heartless ingratitude and careless crueltyin her nature, to abandon me thus, without a word of regret or comfort.It seemed to me as if her chief end in writing was to obtain securityfor herself and Lewis de Pino, by persuading me to support the story ofher death; and with such a cold, cruel heart, to invoke the mercy ofProvidence towards me was nothing but hypocrisy, with a taint ofblasphemy.
"Had she studied to crush the love out of my heart she could not havewrit more unkindly," says I to myself. Then it came to my mind that thiscruelty was studied to that end, in order that my passion might not giveme the power to escape and rejoin her. And the more I thought of this,the more likely it appeared. "She has Lewis de Pino," says I, grindingmy teeth in rage, "and has no further need of me."
Then I cursed her for a cruel, unkind jade, and would try to think I waswell rid of such a baggage--that all women were false alike for foolsand boys to love, and fit only to be treated as men like Rodriguestreated them. "They make sport," says I, "of those who are fond enoughto love them, and kiss the hand of a cruel, hardened wretch like Lewisde Pino. 'Tis the trick of a dog who snaps at loving children who wouldcaress it, and cringes before the tyrant who spurns it with his foot.Fear not that I shall seek to separate you from your lord--no, notthough I saw him lift the whip to flog you as he would another slave. Itrust no woman again; the friendship of Rodrigues is more stanch andloyal. I have done all a man could do in proportion to his means for thelove of a woman; but I have come to an end of my folly. My body shallshed its blood no more for you--no, nor my heart a tear. And yet,"thinks I, my rage abating as I perceived how dreary and barren my lifemust henceforth be, which seemed, as I looked back on it, to be allstrewn with flowers and gladdened with sunshine--"yet, in truth, I dowish you had died before you writ that letter. Would that I could yettreasure that tender joy of love for you that has made a fool of me! Ay,would that you had died ere I knew you worthless, while I yet thoughtyou all that was beautiful and good and kind! 'Twould have broke myheart to have lost you then; but better 'tis to live with ever-abidingsorrow for such loss than to find nothing in the world to weep for."
In this fashion did I pass from one fit to another--from rage to regret,from bitter hate to tender grief--till the stars shone brightly throughthe rifts above; but they came into sight and passed away, marking thegrowing hours, without my heeding any longer the increasing distancebetween Lady Biddy and me; nor did I once think to make my escape. Shewas gone from me forever, and with her all my hopes and anxiety. I gaveno thought as to what would happen on the morrow, or what my fate wouldbe when Rodrigues got me again into his hands. If I had thought of it Ishould have welcomed the prospect of death itself even by the worsttorture his cruel nature could devise.
Lady Biddy had appealed to my generosity and reason, but I had neitherone nor the other, else had I perhaps brought myself to see that, afterall, she had done no more than I should have bid her do if her fate hadbeen in my hands. Could I have consented to her being carried back withme to Rodrigues? No! not though the alternative was to yield her to themercy of Lewis de Pino. Then why was I so put about because she had donethat which I would have had her do? Simply because she had not paid methe compliment to ask my advice? There may have been no time to appealto my decision; she may, as she said, have depended on my good judgmentto accept what was inevitable. These and many other arguments I couldurge, never occurred to me then, for my reason was undone.
As I lay there on the ground with that passionate turmoil in my breast,with my eyes turned away from the stars that seemed to look down on methrough the night with a sweet, still sorrow that made my pain the morehard to endure, I saw a streak of light between the door and thefootsill, and presently heard the bar being taken down very carefully,but after a pause, as if assurance were being made that I was not astir.
"They are come to murder me in my sleep," thinks I; "is this the mercyshe prayed Providence to bestow on me, or did she pray that mercy ofLewis de Pino?"
The bar being down, first one bolt grated slowly in the socket, and thenthe other.
"Now," thinks I, "will they come upon me cautiously, or will they do itwith a sudden rush?"
But so little count did I make of my life that I did not stir nor takemy arm from under my head.
The door creaked slowly on its hinges, and I saw the wall beyond throughthe widening opening, and a lantern set upon the ground. Then a greatshock head came athwart the opening, dark against the light on the wall;and after peering in for a minute or so without seeing anything (for Ilay far back in the dark), or hearing any movement, the man ventured ina little further, so that his figure blocked out the light still more;and thus he stood another minute, turning his head this way and that, asif to make sure I was not hidden against the wall, ready to spring onhim. Then he draws back and picks up something which stood behind thedoor with his left hand, and then the lantern with his right, and,stepping sideways and very gingerly past the door, he comes into mychamber, so that I could see he carried in his left hand a pitcher, andunder that arm a little bundle.
"So," thinks I, "it is to bring my food, and not to murder me, thefellow has come. 'Tis all the same to me. I would as soon have his knifeas his food in me."
Setting down the pitcher and the bundle, he lifts the lantern high andlooks about; but not seeing me for the shadow where I lay, and thefeeble light of his candle, he puts up his hand, and, shoving his hat onone side, scratches his head, as if perplexed to know where I had gotto. Then moving a couple of steps forward on his toes, he holds up thelantern again and peers around, and then, getting a glimpse of me, givesa nod of satisfaction, as much as to say, "Oh, you're there after all,are you?" and so he comes forward again towards me, but very cautiouslysetting down the lantern and turning the door of it towards me,
that thelight might not fall upon my eyes.
And now the idea seized me of a sudden that I might throw this fellowdown and make my escape, whilst a wicked longing for vengeance burnt upmy heart. I know not what bloody design lay at the bottom of my purpose,but I made up my mind I would escape and overtake Lady Biddy, though shewas in the furthest corner of the earth. So with the cunning of avillain I closed my eyes, that the fellow might not see by their glitterI was awake (yet not so close but that I could watch him well), in orderthat he might get near to me before I sprang at him.
He seemed to have some ill forecast of my design, for more than once hestopped betwixt the lantern and me to scratch his head and consider ofhis safety. However, he ventures within about a couple of feet of me,and then squatting down reaches out his arm, as if he would wake me tolet me know he had brought food for my use. And though this was a kindlyoffice, deserving of a better return (for I took no heed of it becauseof the devilish wickedness in my heart), I suddenly caught hold of hisextended arm, and, giving it a sharp jerk, threw him on his side.
Seeing a knife in his belt, I bethought me I would cut his throat, andso save myself from pursuit, for there is no vile murder a man will stopshort of when he gives up his soul to the fiend of vengeance; and thispurpose came so suddenly to my mind (even as he was rolling over, andthe handle of his knife caught a ray of light from the lantern) that Ihad no time to consider what I was about. In a moment I had sprung up,and set my knee in his flank, and grasping him by his ragged shock ofhair with my left hand, so that I drew his head back between hisshoulders, I whipped out his knife with my right.
Surely in another moment I should have cut his throat, but that justthen, raising his voice as well as he could for his position, he criesout, in very good English--
"Lord love you, master, would you murder your own countryman?"
The Admirable Lady Biddy Fane Page 39
