CHAPTER II
A PERILOUS VENTURE
Any call to action, of either hazard or pleasure, steadies my nerves.To realize necessity for doing renders me a new man, clear of brain,quick of decision. Possibly this comes from that active life I havealways led in the open. Be the cause what it may, I was the first torecover speech.
"I hope to show myself worthy your trust, Madame," I said somewhatstiffly, for it hurt to realize that this emotion arose from herhusband's peril. "At best I am only an adventurer, and rely upon thosemeans with which life upon the border renders me familiar. Such mayprove useless where I have soldiers of skill to deal with. However, wehave need of these minutes flying past so rapidly; they might be put tobetter use than tears, or words of gratitude."
She looked upward at me with wet eyes.
"You are right; I am a child, it seems. Tell me your desire, and Iwill endeavor to act the woman."
"First, I must comprehend more clearly the nature of the work beforeme. The Chevalier de Noyan is already under sentence of death; thehour of execution to-morrow at sunrise?"
She bent her head in quiet acquiescence, her anxious eyes never leavingmy face.
"It is now already approaching noon, leaving us barely eighteen hoursin which to effect his rescue. Faith! 't is short space for action."
I glanced uneasily aside at the silently observant priest, nowstanding, a slender gray figure, close beside the door. He was not ofan Order I greatly loved.
"You need have no fear," she exclaimed, hastily interpreting mythought. "Father Petreni can be fully trusted. He is more than myreligious confessor; he has been my friend from childhood."
"Yes, Monsieur," he interposed sadly, yet with a grave smile lightinghis thin white face. "I shall be able to accomplish little in youraid, for my trade is not that of arms, yet, within my physicallimitations, I am freely at your service."
"That is well," I responded heartily, words and tone yielding me freshconfidence in the man. "This is likely to prove a night when comradeswill need to know each other. Now a few questions, after which I willlook over the ground before attempting to outline any plan of action.You say, Madame, that your--Chevalier de Noyan is a prisoner on thefleet in the river. Upon which ship is he confined?"
"The 'Santa Maria.'"
"The 'Santa Maria'?--if memory serve, the largest of them all?"
"Yes! the flag-ship."
"She lies, as I remember, for I stood on the levee two hours agowatching the strange spectacle, close in toward the shore, beside theold sugar warehouse of Bomanceaux et fils."
"You are correct," returned the Capuchin soberly, the lady hesitating."The ship swingeth by her cable scarce thirty feet from the bank."
"That, at least, has sound of good fortune," I thought, revolvingrapidly a sudden inspiration from his answer, "yet it will prove adesperate trick to try."
Then I spoke aloud once more.
"She appeared a veritable monster of the sea to my backwoods eyes;enough to pluck the heart out of a man. Has either of you steppedaboard her?"
The priest shook his shaven head despondently.
"Nay; never any Frenchman, except as prisoner in shackles, has foundfoothold upon that deck since O'Reilly came. It is reported no negroboatmen are permitted to approach her side with cargoes of fruit andvegetables, so closely is she guarded against all chances of treachery."
"Faith! it must be an important crime to bring such extremity ofvigilance. With what is De Noyan charged?"
"He, with others, is held for treason against the King of Spain."
"There are more than one, then?"
"Five." He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. "Madame de Noyan'sfather is among them."
"Lafreniere?" I uttered the name in astonishment. "Then why am I notasked to assist him?"
The thoughtless exclamation cut her deeply with its seeming implicationof neglect, yet the words she strove to speak failed to come. Thepriest rebuked me gravely:
"Thou doest great injustice by such inconsiderate speech, my son.There are hearts loyal to France in this province, who would countliving a crime if it were won at the cost of Lafreniere. He hath beenalready offered liberty, yet deliberately chooseth to remain and meethis fate. Holy Mother! we can do no more."
I bent, taking her moist hands gently between my own.
"I beg you pardon me, Madame; I am not yet wholly myself, and intendedno such offence as my hasty words would seem to imply. One's mannersdo not improve with long dwelling among savages."
She met my stumbling apology with a radiant smile.
"I know your heart too well to misjudge. Yet it hurt me to feel youcould deem me thoughtless toward my father."
"You have seen him since his arrest?"
"Once only--at the Captain-General's office, before they were condemnedand taken aboard the flag-ship."
"But the prisoners are Catholics; surely they are permitted the officesof the Church at such a time?"
A hard look swept across the Capuchin's pale, ascetic face.
"Oh, ay! I had quite forgotten," he explained bitterly. "They enjoythe ministrations of Father Cassati, of our Order, as representative ofHoly Church."
"Pouf!" I muttered gloomily. "It is bad to have the guard-lines drawnso closely. Besides, I know little about the way of ships; how theyare arranged within, or even along the open decks. We meet them not inthe backwoods, so this is an adventure little to my taste. It wouldhardly be prudent, even could I obtain safe footing there, to attemptfollowing a trail in the dark when I knew not where it led. I musteither see the path I am to travel by good daylight, or else procure aguide. This Father Cassati might answer. Is he one to trust?"
The priest turned his head away with a quick gesture of indignantdissent.
"Nay!" he exclaimed emphatically. "He must never be approached uponsuch a matter. He can be sweet enough with all men to their faces; thewords of his mouth are as honey; yet he would be true to none. It isnot according to the canons of our Order for me thus to speak, yet Ionly give utterance to truth as I know it in the sight of God. Noteven the Spaniards themselves have faith in him. He has not beenpermitted to set foot upon shore since first he went aboard."
"And you have no plan, no suggestion to offer for my guidance?"
"Mon Dieu, no!" he cried dramatically. "I cannot think the firstthing."
"And you, Madame?"
She was kneeling close beside a large chair, her fine dark eyes eagerlysearching my face.
"It rests wholly with you," she said solemnly, "and God."
Twice, three times, I paced slowly across the floor in anxiousreflection; each time, as I turned, I gazed again into her trustful,appealing eyes. It was love calling to me in silent language far moreeffective than speech; at last, I paused and faced her.
"Madame de Noyan," I said deliberately, my voice seeming to falter withthe intensity of my feelings, "I beg you do not expect too much fromme. Your appeal has been made to a simple frontiersman, unskilled inwar except with savages, and it is hardly probable I shall be able tooutwit the trained guardsmen of Spain. Yet this I will say: I havedetermined to venture all at your desire. As I possess small skill orknowledge to aid me, I shall put audacity to the front, permittingsheer daring either to succeed or fail. But it would be wrong, Madame,for me to encourage you with false expectation. I deem it best to beperfectly frank, and I do not clearly see how this rescue is to beaccomplished. I can form no definite plan of action; all I even hopefor is, that the good God will open up a path, showing me how suchdesperate purpose may be accomplished. If this prove true--and I begyou pray fervently to that end--you may trust me to accept theguidance, let the personal danger be what it may. But I cannot plan,cannot promise--I can only go forward blindly, seeking some opening notnow apparent. This alone I know, to remain here in conversation isuseless. I must discover means by which I may reach the 'Santa Maria'and penetrate below her deck if possible. That is my first object, andit al
one presents a problem sufficient to tax my poor wits to theuttermost. So all I dare say now, Madame, is, that I will use myutmost endeavor to save your hus--the Chevalier de Noyan. I requestyou both remain here--it would be well in prayer--ready to receive, andobey at once, any message I may need to send. If possible I will visityou again in person before nightfall, but in any case, and whateverhappens, try to believe that I am doing all I can with such brains as Ipossess, and that I count my own life nothing in your service."
However they may sound now, there was no spirit of boasting in thesewords. Conceit is not of my nature, and, indeed, at that time I hadsmall enough faith in myself. I merely sought to encourage the poorgirl with what little hope I possessed, and knew she read the truthbehind those utterances which sounded so brave. Even as I finished shearose to her feet, standing erect before me, looking a very queen.
"Never will I doubt that, Geoffrey Benteen," she declared impulsively."I have seen you in danger, and never forgotten it. If it is anyencouragement to hear it spoken from my lips, know, even as you goforth from here, that never did woman trust man as I trust you."
The hot blood surged into my face with a madness I retained barelysufficient strength to conquer.
"I--I accept your words in the same spirit with which they areoffered," I stammered, hardly aware of what I said. "They are ofgreatest worth to me."
I bowed low above the white hand resting so confidingly within mine,anxious to escape from the room before my love gave utterance to somefoolish speech. Yet even as I turned hastily toward the door, I pausedwith a final question.
"The negro who guided me here, Madame; is he one in whom I may reposeconfidence?"
"In all things," she answered gravely. "He has been with the De Noyanfamily from a child, and is devoted to his master."
"Then I take him with me for use should I chance to require amessenger."
With a swift backward glance into her earnest dark eyes, an indulgenceI could not deny myself, I bowed my way forth from the room, anddiscovering Alphonse upon the porch, where he evidently felt himself onguard, and bidding him it was the will of his mistress that he follow,I flung my rifle across my shoulder, and strode straight ahead until Icame out upon the river bank. Turning to the right I worked my wayrapidly up the stream, passing numerous groups of lounging soldiers,who made little effort to bar my passage, beyond some idle chaffing,until I found myself opposite the anchorage of the Spanish fleet.
In the character of an unsophisticated frontiersman, I felt no dangerin joining others of my class, lounging listlessly about in smallgroups discussing the situation, and gazing with awe upon those strangeships of war, swinging by their cables in the broad stream. It was amotley crew among whom I foregathered, one to awaken interest at anyother time--French _voyageurs_ from the far-off Illinois country, asbarbarian in dress and actions as the native denizens of those northernplains, commingling freely with Creole hunters freshly arrived from thebayous of the swamp lands; sunburnt fishermen from the sandy beaches ofBarataria, long-haired flatboat-men, their northern skin faintlyvisible through the tan and dirt acquired in the long voyage from theupper Ohio; here and there some stolid Indian brave, resplendent inpaint and feathers, and not a few drunken soldiers temporarily escapedfrom their commands. Yet I gave these little thought, except to pushmy way through them to where I could obtain unobstructed view of thegreat ships.
The largest of these, a grim monster to my eyes, with bulging sidestowering high above the water, and masts uplifting heavy spars far intothe blue sky, rendered especially formidable by gaping muzzles ofnumerous black cannon visible through her open ports, floated justbeyond the landing. I measured carefully the apparent distance betweenthe flat roof of the sugar warehouse, against the corner of which Ileaned in seeming listlessness, and the lower yards of her forwardmast--it was no farther than I had often cast a riata, yet it would bea skilful toss on a black night.
However, I received small comfort from the thought, for there was thatabout this great gloomy war-ship--frigate those about me calledher--which awed and depressed my spirits; all appeared so ponderouslysullen, so massive with concealed power, so mysteriously silent. Myeyes, searching for each visible object, detected scarcely a stir oflife aboard, except as some head would arise for an instant above therail, or my glance fell upon the motionless figure of a sentry,standing at the top of the narrow steps leading downward to the water,a huge burly fellow, whose side-arms glistened ominously in the sun.These were the sole signs of human presence; yet, from snatches ofconversation, I learned that hidden away in the heart of that blackfloating monster of wood and iron, were nearly four hundred men, andthe mere knowledge made the sombre silence more impressive than ever.
Except for gossiping spectators lining the shore, nothing livingappeared about the entire scene, if I except a dozen or more smallboats, propelled by lusty black oarsmen, deeply laden with produce,busily plying back and forth between various vessels, seeking marketfor their wares. Even these, as the priest told me, had apparentlybeen warned away from the flag-ship, as I observed how carefully theyavoided any approach to her boarding-ladder. The longer I remained,the more thoroughly hopeless appeared any prospect of success. Norcould I conjure up a practical--nay! even possible--method of placingso much as a foot on board the "Santa Maria." Surely never wasprison-ship guarded with more jealous care, and never did man face morehopeless quest than this confronting me. The longer I gazed upon thatgrim, black, sullen mass of wood and iron--that floating fortress ofdespotic Spanish power--the more desperate appeared my mission; thedarker grew every possibility of plucking a victim from out thatmonster's tightly closed jaws. Yet I was not one to forego anenterprise lightly because of difficulty or danger, so with doggedpersistency I clung to the water front, knowing nowhere else to go, andblindly trusting that some happening might open to me a door ofopportunity.
It frequently seems that when a man once comes, in a just cause, tosuch mind as this, when he trusts God rather than himself, there is adivinity which aids him. Surely it was well I waited in patience, forsuddenly another produce boat, evidently new to the trade, deeply ladenwith fruit and roots, bore down the river, the two negroes at the oarspointing its blunt nose directly toward the flag-ship, attracted nodoubt by its superior size. Instantly noting their course I awaitedtheir reception with interest, an interest intensified by a drawlingEnglish voice from amid the crowd about me, saying:
"I reckon thar'll be some dead niggers in thet thar bumboat if theydon't sheer off almighty soon."
Scarcely were these prophetic words uttered, when the soldier statue atthe head of the boarding-stairs swung his musket forward into position,and hailed in emphatic Spanish, a language which, thanks to my mother,I knew fairly well. There followed a moment of angry controversy,during which the startled negroes rested upon their oars, while theenraged guard threatened to fire if they drifted a yard closer. In themidst of this hubbub a head suddenly popped up above the rail. Then atall, ungainly figure, clad in a faded, ill-fitting uniform, raiseditself slowly, leaning far out over the side, a pair of weak eyes,shadowed by colored glasses, gazing down inquiringly into the smallboat.
"Vat ees it you say you have zare?" he asked in an attempt at French,which I may only pretend to reproduce in English. "Vat ees ze cargo ofze leetle boat?"
Instantly the two hucksters gave voice, fairly running over each otherin their confused jargon, during which I managed to distinguish nativenames for potatoes, yams, sweet corn, peaches, apples, and I know notwhat else.
The Spaniard perched high on the rail waved his long arms inunmitigated disgust.
"_Caramba_!" he cried the moment he could make his voice distinguishedabove the uproar. "I vant none of zos zings; Saint Cristoval, non!non! Ze Capitaine he tole me get him some of ze olif--haf you no olifin ze leetle boat?"
The darkies shook their heads, instantly starting in again to calltheir wares, but the fellow on the rail waved them back.
"Zen ve don't vant
you here!" he cried shrilly. "Go vay dam quick, orelse ze soldier shoot." As if in obedience to an order the stolidguard brought his weapon menacingly to the shoulder.
How the episode terminated I did not remain to learn. At that moment Ionly clearly comprehended this--I had a way opened, an exceedinglyslight one to be sure, of doubtful utility, yet still a way, whichmight lead me into the guarded mystery of that ship. The time foraction had arrived, and that was like a draught of wine to me. EagerlyI slipped back through the increasing crowd of gaping countrymen, towhere the negro had found a spot of comfort in the sun.
"Alphonse!" I called, careful to modulate my voice. "Wake up, youblack sleepy-head! Ay! I have you at last in the world again. Nowstop blinking, and pay heed to what I say. Do you chance to knowwhere, for love, money, or any consideration, you could lay hands onolives in this town?"
The fellow, scarcely awake, rolled up the whites of his eyes for amoment, and scratched his woolly pate, as if seeking vainly to conjureup some long-neglected memory. Then his naturally good-humoredcountenance relaxed into a broad grin.
"Fo' de Lord, yas sah! I'se your man dis time suah 'nough. Dat fatol' Dutchman, down by de Tehoupitoulas Gate, suah as you're born had awhole barrel ob dem yesterday. I done disremember fer de minute, boss,jist whar I done saw dem olibs, but I reckon as how de money 'd fotch'em all right."
I drew forth a handful of French coins.
"Then run for it, lad!" I exclaimed in some excitement. "Your master'slife hangs upon your speed--hold, wait! do you remember that oldtumble-down shed we passed on our way here; the one which had once beena farrier's shop?"
The negro nodded, his eyes filled with awakened interest.
"Good; then first of all bring me a suit of the worst looking oldclothes you can scare up in the negro quarters of this town. Leavethem there. Then go directly to this Dutchman's, buy every olive hehas for sale at any price, load them into a boat--a common huckster'sboat, mind you, and remain there with them until I come. Do youunderstand all that?"
"Yas, Massa; I reckon as how I kin do dat all right 'nough." Thefellow grinned, every white ivory showing between his thick red lips.
"Don't stop to speak to any one, black or white. Now trot alonglively, and may the Lord have mercy on you if you fail me, for I pledgeyou I shall have none."
I watched him disappear up the street in a sort of swinging dog-trot,took one more glance backward at the huge war-ship, now swinging by hercable silent and mysterious as ever, and turned away from the riverfront, my brain teeming with a scheme upon the final issue of whichhung life or death.
Prisoners of Chance Page 3
