CHAPTER XXVIII IN WHICH THE SPRINGTIME IS AT HAND
TIRED of dicing against myself, and of the books that Rolfe had sentme, I betook myself to the gaol window, and, leaning against the bars,looked out in search of entertainment. The nearest if not the merriestthing the prospect had to offer was the pillory. It was built so tallthat it was but little lower than the low upper story of the gaol, andit faced my window at so short a distance that I could hear the long,whistling breath of the wretch who happened to occupy it. It was not apleasant sound; neither was a livid face, new branded on the cheek witha great R, and with a trickle of dark blood from the mutilated earsstaining the board in which the head was immovably fixed, a pleasantsight. A little to one side was the whipping post: a woman had beenwhipped that morning, and her cries had tainted the air even moreeffectually than had the decayed matter with which certain small devilshad pelted the runaway in the pillory. I looked away from the poor roguebelow me into the clear, hard brightness of the March day, and was mostheartily weary of the bars between me and it. The wind blew keenly; thesky was blue as blue could be, and the river a great ribbon of azuresewn with diamonds. All colors were vivid and all distances near. Therewas no haze over the forest; brown and bare it struck the cloudlessblue. The marsh was emerald, the green of the pines deep and rich, thebudding maples redder than coral. The church, with the low green gravesaround it, appeared not a stone's throw away, and the voices of thechildren up and down the street sounded clearly, as though they playedin the brown square below me. When the drum beat for the nooning theroll was close in my ears. The world looked so bright and keen that itseemed new made, and the brilliant sunshine and the cold wind stirredthe blood like wine.
Now and then men and women passed through the square below. Well-nighall glanced up at the window, and their eyes were friendly. It wasknown now that Buckingham was paramount at home, and my Lord Carnal'sfollowing in Virginia was much decayed. Young Hamor strode by, bravelydressed and whistling cheerily, and doffed a hat with a most noblebroken feather. "We're going to bait a bear below the fort!" he called."Sorry you'll miss the sport! There will be all the world--and my LordCarnal." He whistled himself away, and presently there came alongMaster Edward Sharpless. He stopped and stared at the rogue in thepillory,--with no prescience, I suppose, of a day when he was to standthere himself; then looked up at me with as much malevolence as hissmall soul could write upon his mean features, and passed on. He had ajaded look; moreover, his clothes were swamp-stained and his cloak hadbeen torn by briers. "What did you go to the forest for?" I muttered.
The key grated in the door behind me, and it opened to admit the gaolerand Diccon with my dinner,--which I was not sorry to see. "Sir Georgesent the venison, sir," said the gaoler, grinning, "and Master Pierseythe wild fowl, and Madam West the pasty and the marchpane, and MasterPory the sack. Be there anything you lack, sir?"
"Nothing that you can supply," I answered curtly.
The fellow grinned again, straightened the things upon the table, andstarted for the door. "You can stay until I come for the platters,"he said to Diccon, and went out, locking the door after him withostentation.
I applied myself to the dinner, and Diccon went to the window, and stoodthere looking out at the blue sky and at the man in the pillory. He hadthe freedom of the gaol. I was somewhat more straitly confined, thoughmy friends had easy access to me. As for Jeremy Sparrow, he had spenttwenty-four hours in gaol, at the end of which time Madam West had afit of the spleen, declared she was dying, and insisted upon MasterSparrow's being sent for to administer consolation; Master Bucke,unfortunately, having gone up to Henricus on business connected with thecollege. From the bedside of that despotic lady Sparrow was called tobury a man on the other side of the river, and from the grave to marrya couple at Mulberry Island. And the next day being Sunday, and nominister at hand, he preached again in Master Bucke's pulpit,--andpreached a sermon so powerful and moving that its like had never beenheard in Virginia. They marched him not back from the pulpit to gaol.There were but five ministers in Virginia, and there were a many moresick to visit and dead to bury. Master Bucke, still feeble in body,tarried up river discussing with Thorpe the latter's darling project ofconverting every imp of an Indian this side the South Sea, and Jeremyslipped into his old place. There had been some talk of a publiccensure, but it died away.
The pasty and sack disposed of, I turned in my seat and spoke to Diccon:"I looked for Master Rolfe to-day. Have you heard aught of him?"
"No," he answered. As he spoke, the door was opened and the gaoler putin his head. "A messenger from Master Rolfe, captain." He drew back, andthe Indian Nantauquas entered the room.
Rolfe I had seen twice since the arrival of the George at Jamestown, butthe Indian had not been with him. The young chief now came forward andtouched the hand I held out to him. "My brother will be here before thesun touches the tallest pine," he announced in his grave, calm voice."He asks Captain Percy to deny himself to any other that may come. Hewishes to see him alone."
"I shall hardly be troubled with company," I said. "There's abear-baiting toward."
Nantauquas smiled. "My brother asked me to find a bear for to-day. Ibought one from the Paspaheghs for a piece of copper, and took him tothe ring below the fort."
"Where all the town will presently be gone," I said. "I wonder whatRolfe did that for!"
Filling a cup with sack, I pushed it to the Indian across the table."You are little in the woods nowadays, Nantauquas."
His fine dark face clouded ever so slightly. "Opechancanough has dreamtthat I am Indian no longer. Singing birds have lied to him, telling himthat I love the white man, and hate my own color. He calls me no morehis brave, his brother Powhatan's dear son. I do not sit by his councilfire now, nor do I lead his war bands. When I went last to his lodge andstood before him, his eyes burned me like the coals the Monacans onceclosed my hands upon. He would not speak to me."
"It would not fret me if he never spoke again," I said. "You have beento the forest to-day?"
"Yes," he replied, glancing at the smear of leaf mould upon his beadedmoccasins. "Captain Percy's eyes are quick; he should have been anIndian. I went to the Paspaheghs to take them the piece of copper. Icould tell Captain Percy a curious thing"--
"Well?" I demanded, as he paused.
"I went to the lodge of the werowance with the copper, and found him notthere. The old men declared that he had gone to the weirs for fish,--heand ten of his braves. The old men lied. I had passed the weirs of thePaspaheghs, and no man was there. I sat and smoked before the lodge, andthe maidens brought me chinquapin cakes and pohickory; for Nantauquasis a prince and a welcome guest to all save Opechancanough. The old mensmoked, with their eyes upon the ground, each seeing only the days whenhe was even as Nantauquas. They never knew when a wife of the werowance,turned child by pride, unfolded a doeskin and showed Nantauquas a silvercup carved all over and set with colored stones."
"Humph!"
"The cup was a heavy price to pay," continued the Indian. "I do not knowwhat great thing it bought."
"Humph!" I said again. "Did you happen to meet Master Edward Sharplessin the forest?"
He shook his head. "The forest is wide, and there are many trailsthrough it. Nantauquas looked for that of the werowance of thePaspaheghs, but found it not. He had no time to waste upon a white man."
He gathered his otterskin mantle about him and prepared to depart. Irose and gave him my hand, for I thoroughly liked him, and in the pasthe had made me his debtor. "Tell Rolfe he will find me alone," I said,"and take my thanks for your pains, Nantauquas. If ever we hunt togetheragain, may I have the chance to serve you! I bear the scars of thewolf's teeth yet; you came in the nick of time, that day."
The Indian smiled. "It was a fierce old wolf. I wish Captain Percy freewith all my heart, and then we will hunt more wolves, he and I."
When he was gone, and the gaoler and Diccon with him, I returned tothe window. The runaway in the pillory was released, and went a
wayhomewards, staggering beside his master's stirrup. Passers-by grew moreand more infrequent, and up the street came faint sounds of laughterand hurrahing,--the bear must be making good sport. I could see thehalf-moon, and the guns, and the flag that streamed in the wind, and onthe river a sail or two, white in the sunlight as the gulls that swoopedpast. Beyond rose the bare masts of the George. The Santa Teresa rodeno more forever in the James. The King's ship was gone home to the Kingwithout the freight he looked for. Three days, and the George wouldspread her white wings and go down the wide river, and I with her, andthe King's ward, and the King's sometime favorite. I looked down thewind-ruffled stream, and saw the great bay into which it emptied, andbeyond the bay the heaving ocean, dark and light, league on league,league on league; then green England, and London, and the Tower. Thevision disturbed me less than once it would have done. Men that I knewand trusted were to be passengers on that ship, as well as one I knewand did not trust. And if, at the journey's end, I saw the Tower, Isaw also his Grace of Buckingham. Where I hated he hated, and was nowpowerful enough to strike.
The wind blew from the west, from the unknown. I turned my head, andit beat against my forehead, cold and fragrant with the essence of theforest,--pine and cedar, dead leaves and black mould, fen and hollowand hill,--all the world of woods over which it had passed. The ghostof things long dead, which face or voice could never conjure up, willsometimes start across our path at the beckoning of an odor. A day inthe Starving Time came back to me: how I had dragged myself from ourbroken palisade and crazy huts, and the groans of the famished and theplague-stricken, and the presence of the unburied dead, across the neckand into the woods, and had lain down there to die, being taken with asick fear and horror of the place of cannibals behind me; and how weakI was!--too weak to care any more. I had been a strong man, and it hadcome to that, and I was content to let it be. The smell of the woodsthat day, the chill brown earth beneath me, the blowing wind, the longstretch of the river gleaming between the pines,... and fair in sightthe white sails of the Patience and the Deliverance.
I had been too nigh gone then to greatly care that I was saved; now Icared, and thanked God for my life. Come what might in the future, thepast was mine. Though I should never see my wife again, I had that hourin the state cabin of the George. I loved, and was loved again.
There was a noise outside the door, and Rolfe's voice speaking to thegaoler. Impatient for his entrance I started toward the door, but whenit opened he made no move to cross the threshold. "I am not coming in,"he said, with a face that he strove to keep grave. "I only came to bringsome one else." With that he stepped back, and a second figure, comingforward out of the dimness behind him, crossed the threshold. It was awoman, cloaked and hooded. The door was drawn to behind her, and we werealone together.
Beside the cloak and hood she wore a riding mask. "Do you know who itis?" she asked, when she had stood, so shrouded, for a long minute,during which I had found no words with which to welcome her.
"Yea," I answered: "the princess in the fairy tale."
She freed her dark hair from its covering, and unclasping her cloak letit drop to the floor. "Shall I unmask?" she asked, with a sigh. "Faith!I should keep the bit of silk between your eyes, sir, and my blushes. AmI ever to be the forward one? Do you not think me too bold a lady?" Asshe spoke, her white hands were busy about the fastening of her mask."The knot is too hard," she murmured, with a little tremulous laugh anda catch of her breath.
I untied the ribbons.
"May I not sit down?" she said plaintively, but with soft merriment inher eyes. "I am not quite strong yet. My heart--you do not know whatpain I have in my heart sometimes. It makes me weep of nights and whennone are by, indeed it does!"
There was a settle beneath the window. I led her to it, and she satdown.
"You must know that I am walking in the Governor's garden, that hathonly a lane between it and the gaol." Her eyes were downcast, her cheekspure rose.
"When did you first love me?" I demanded.
"Lady Wyatt must have guessed why Master Rolfe alone went not to thebear-baiting, but joined us in the garden. She said the air was keen,and fetched me her mask, and then herself went indoors to embroiderSamson in the arms of Delilah.'
"Was it here at Jamestown, or was it when we were first wrecked, or onthe island with the pink hill when you wrote my name in the sand, or"--
"The George will sail in three days, and we are to be taken back toEngland after all. It does not scare me now."
"In all my life I have kissed you only once," I said.
The rose deepened, and in her eyes there was laughter, with tearsbehind. "You are a gentleman of determination," she said. "If youare bent upon having your way, I do not know that I--that I--can helpmyself. I do not even know that I want to help myself."
Outside the wind blew and the sun shone, and the laughter from below thefort was too far away and elfin to jar upon us. The world forgot us, andwe were well content. There seemed not much to say: I suppose we weretoo happy for words. I knelt beside her, and she laid her hands inmine, and now and then we spoke. In her short and lonely life, and in mylonger stern and crowded one, there had been little tenderness, littlehappiness. In her past, to those about her, she had seemed bright andgay; I had been a comrade whom men liked because I could jest as well asfight. Now we were happy, but we were not gay. Each felt for the other agreat compassion; each knew that though we smiled to-day, the groan andthe tear might be to-morrow's due; the sunshine around us was pure gold,but that the clouds were mounting we knew full well.
"I must soon be gone," she said at last. "It is a stolen meeting. I donot know when we shall meet again."
She rose from the settle, and I rose with her, and we stood togetherbeside the barred window. There was no danger of her being seen; streetand square were left to the wind and the sunshine. My arm was aroundher, and she leaned her head against my breast. "Perhaps we shall nevermeet again," she said.
"The winter is over," I answered. "Soon the trees will be green andthe flowers in bloom. I will not believe that our spring can have nosummer."
She took from her bosom a little flower that had been pinned there. Itlay, a purple star, in the hollow of her hand. "It grew in the sun. Itis the first flower of spring." She put it to her lips, then laidit upon the window ledge beside my hand. "I have brought you evilgifts,--foes and strife and peril. Will you take this little purpleflower--and all my heart beside?"
I bent and kissed first the tiny blossom, and then the lips that hadproffered it. "I am very rich," I said.
The sun was now low, and the pines in the square and the upright of thepillory cast long shadows. The wind had fallen and the sounds had diedaway. It seemed very still. Nothing moved but the creeping shadows untila flight of small white-breasted birds went past the window. "The snowis gone," I said. "The snowbirds are flying north."
"The woods will soon be green," she murmured wistfully. "Ah, if we couldride through them once more, back to Weyanoke"--
"To home," I said.
"Home," she echoed softly.
There was a low knocking at the door behind us. "It is Master Rolfe'ssignal," she said. "I must not stay. Tell me that you love me, and letme go."
I drew her closer to me and pressed my lips upon her bowed head. "Do younot know that I love you?" I asked.
"Yea," she answered. "I have been taught it. Tell me that you believethat God will be good to us. Tell me that we shall be happy yet; for oh,I have a boding heart this day!"
Her voice broke, and she lay trembling in my arms, her face hidden. "Ifthe summer never comes for us"--she whispered. "Good-by, my lover and myhusband. If I have brought you ruin and death, I have brought you, too,a love that is very great. Forgive me and kiss me, and let me go."
"Thou art my dearly loved and honored wife," I said. "My heart forebodessummer, and joy, and peace, and home."
We kissed each other solemnly, as those who part for a journey and awarfare. I spoke no word to Rolfe when
the door was opened and she hadpassed out with her cloak drawn about her face, but we clasped hands,and each knew the other for his friend indeed. They were gone, thegaoler closing and locking the door behind them. As for me, I went backto the settle beneath the window, and, falling on my knees beside it,buried my face in my arms.
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