CHAPTER XXIX IN WHICH I KEEP TRYST
THE sun dropped below the forest, blood red, dyeing the river its owncolor. There were no clouds in the sky,--only a great suffusion ofcrimson climbing to the zenith; against it the woods were as black aswar paint. The color faded and the night set in, a night of no wind andof numberless stars. On the hearth burned a fire. I left the window andsat beside it, and in the hollows between the red embers made pictures,as I used to make them when I was a boy.
I sat there long. It grew late, and all sounds in the town were hushed;only now and then the "All's well!" of the watch came faintly to myears. Diccon lodged with me; he lay in his clothes upon a pallet in thefar corner of the room, but whether he slept or not I did not ask. Heand I had never wasted words; since chance had thrown us together againwe spoke only when occasion required.
The fire was nigh out, and it must have been ten of the clock when, withsomewhat more of caution and less of noise than usual, the key gratedin the lock; the door opened, and the gaoler entered, closing itnoiselessly behind him. There was no reason why he should intrudehimself upon me after nightfall, and I regarded him with a frown and animpatience that presently turned to curiosity.
He began to move about the room, making pretense of seeing that therewas water in the pitcher beside my pallet, that the straw beneath thecoverlet was fresh, that the bars of the window were firm, and ended byapproaching the fire and heaping pine upon it. It flamed up brilliantly,and in the strong red light he half opened a clenched hand and showedme two gold pieces, and beneath them a folded paper. I looked at hisfurtive eyes and brutal, doltish face, but he kept them blank as a wall.The hand closed again over the treasure within it, and he turned awayas if to leave the room. I drew a noble--one of a small store of goldpieces conveyed to me by Rolfe--from my pocket, and stooping made itspin upon the hearth in the red firelight. The gaoler looked at itaskance, but continued his progress toward the door. I drew out itsfellow, set it too to spinning, then leaned back against the table."They hunt in couples," I said. "There will be no third one."
He had his foot upon them before they had done spinning. The next momentthey had kissed the two pieces already in his possession, and he hadtransferred all four to his pocket. I held out my hand for the paper,and he gave it to me grudgingly, with a spiteful slowness of movement.He would have stayed beside me as I read it, but I sternly bade him keephis distance; then kneeling before the fire to get the light, I openedthe paper. It was written upon in a delicate, woman's hand, and it ranthus:--
An you hold me dear, come to me at once. Come without tarrying to thedeserted hut on the neck of land, nearest to the forest. As you love me,as you are my knight, keep this tryst.
In distress and peril, THY WIFE.
Folded with it was a line in the commander's hand and with hissignature: "The bearer may pass without the palisade at his pleasure."
I read the first paper again, refolded it, and rose to my feet. "Whobrought this, sirrah?" I demanded.
His answer was glib enough: "One of the governor's servants. He said ashow there was no harm in the letter, and the gold was good."
"When was this?"
"Just now. No, I did n't know the man."
I saw no way to discover whether or not he lied. Drawing out anothergold piece, I laid it upon the table. He eyed it greedily, edging nearerand nearer.
"For leaving this door unlocked," I said.
His eyes narrowed and he moistened his lips, shifting from one foot tothe other.
I put down a second piece. "For opening the outer door," I said.
He wet his lips again, made an inarticulate sound in his throat,and finally broke out with, "The commander will nail my ears to thepillory."
"You can lock the doors after me, and know as little as you choose inthe morning. No gain without some risk."
"That's so," he agreed, and made a clutch at the gold.
I swept it out of his reach. "First earn it," I said dryly. "Look at thefoot of the pillory an hour from now and you'll find it. I'll not payyou this side of the doors."
He bit his lips and studied the floor. "You're a gentleman," he growledat last. "I suppose I can trust ye."
"I suppose you can."
Taking up his lantern he turned toward the door. "It 's growing late,"he said, with a most uncouth attempt to feign a guileless drowsiness."I'll to bed, captain, when I've locked up. Good-night to ye!"
He was gone, and the door was left unlocked. I could walk out of thatgaol as I could have walked out of my house at Weyanoke. I was free, butshould I take my freedom? Going back to the light of the fire I unfoldedthe paper and stared at it, turning its contents this way and that inmy mind. The hand--but once had I seen her writing, and then it had beenwrought with a shell upon firm sand. I could not judge if this were thesame. Had the paper indeed come from her? Had it not? If in truth itwas a message from my wife, what had befallen in a few hours since ourparting? If it was a forger's lie, what trap was set, what toils werelaid? I walked up and down, and tried to think it out. The strangenessof it all, the choice of a lonely and distant hut for trysting place,that pass coming from a sworn officer of the Company, certain things Ihad heard that day... A trap... and to walk into it with my eyesopen.... An you hold me dear. As you are my knight, keep this tryst. Indistress and peril.... Come what might, there was a risk I could not run.
I had no weapons to assume, no preparations to make. Gathering up thegaoler's gold I started toward the door, opened it, and going out wouldhave closed it softly behind me but that a booted leg thrust acrossthe jamb prevented me. "I am going with you," said Diccon in a guardedvoice. "If you try to prevent me, I will rouse the house." His head wasthrown back in the old way; the old daredevil look was upon his face."I don't know why you are going," he declared, "but there'll be danger,anyhow."
"To the best of my belief I am walking into a trap," I said.
"Then it will shut on two instead of one," he answered doggedly.
By this he was through the door, and there was no shadow of turning onhis dark, determined face. I knew my man, and wasted no more words.Long ago it had grown to seem the thing most in nature that the hour ofdanger should find us side by side.
When the door of the firelit room was shut, the gaol was in darknessthat might be felt. It was very still: the few other inmates were fastasleep; the gaoler was somewhere out of sight, dreaming with openeyes. We groped our way through the passage to the stairs, noiselesslydescended them, and found the outer door unchained, unbarred, andslightly ajar.
When I had laid the gold beneath the pillory, we struck swiftly acrossthe square, being in fear lest the watch should come upon us, and tookthe first lane that led toward the palisade. Beneath the burning starsthe town lay stark in sleep. So bright in the wintry air were thosefar-away lights that the darkness below them was not great. We couldsee the low houses, the shadowy pines, the naked oaks, the sandy laneglimmering away to the river, star-strewn to match the heavens. The airwas cold, but exceedingly clear and still. Now and then a dog barked, orwolves howled in the forest across the river. We kept in the shadowof the houses and the trees, and went with the swiftness, silence, andcaution of Indians.
The last house we must pass before reaching the palisade was onethat Rolfe owned, and in which he lodged when business brought him toJamestown. It and some low outbuildings beyond it were as dark as thecedars in which they were set, and as silent as the grave. Rolfe and hisIndian brother were sleeping there now, while I stood without. Or didthey sleep? Were they there at all? Might it not have been Rolfe who hadbribed the gaoler and procured the pass from West? Might I not find himat that strange trysting place? Might not all be well, after all? I wassorely tempted to rouse that silent house and demand if its master werewithin. I did it not. Servants were there, and noise would be made, andtime that might be more precious than life-blood was flying fast. I wenton, and Diccon with me.
There was a cabin built almost against the palisade, and here one manwas supposed t
o watch, whilst another slept. To-night we found bothasleep. I shook the younger to his feet, and heartily cursed him for hisnegligence. He listened stupidly, and read as stupidly, by the light ofhis lantern, the pass which I thrust beneath his nose. Staggering to hisfeet, and drunk with his unlawful slumber, he fumbled at the fasteningsof the gate for full three minutes before the ponderous wood finallyswung open and showed the road beyond. "It's all right," he mutteredthickly. "The commander's pass. Good-night, the three of ye!"
"Are you drunk or drugged?" I demanded. "There are only two. It's notsleep that is the matter with you. What is it?"
He made no answer, but stood holding the gate open and blinking at uswith dull, unseeing eyes. Something ailed him besides sleep; he may havebeen drugged, for aught I know. When we had gone some yards from thegate, we heard him say again, in precisely the same tone, "Good-night,the three of ye!" Then the gate creaked to, and we heard the bars drawnacross it.
Without the palisade was a space of waste land, marsh and thicket,tapering to the narrow strip of sand and scrub joining the peninsula tothe forest, and here and there upon this waste ground rose a mean house,dwelt in by the poorer sort. All were dark. We left them behind, andfound ourselves upon the neck, with the desolate murmur of the river oneither hand, and before us the deep blackness of the forest. SuddenlyDiccon stopped in his tracks and turned his head. "I did hear somethingthen," he muttered. "Look, sir!"
The stars faintly lit the road that had been trodden hard and bare bythe feet of all who came and went. Down this road something was comingtoward us, something low and dark, that moved not fast, and not slow,but with a measured and relentless pace. "A panther!" said Diccon.
We watched the creature with more of curiosity than alarm. Unlessbrought to bay, or hungry, or wantonly irritated, these great cats werecowardly enough. It would hardly attack the two of us. Nearer and nearerit came, showing no signs of anger and none of fear, and paying noattention to the withered branch with which Diccon tried to scare itoff. When it was so close that we could see the white of its breast itstopped, looking at us with large unfaltering eyes, and slightly movingits tail to and fro.
"A tame panther!" ejaculated Diccon. "It must be the one Nantauquastamed, sir. He would have kept it somewhere near Master Rolfe's house."
"And it heard us, and followed us through the gate," I said. "It was thethird the warder talked of."
We walked on, and the beast, addressing itself to motion, followed atour heels. Now and then we looked back at it, but we feared it not.
As for me, I had begun to think that a panther might be the leastformidable thing I should meet that night. By this I had scarcely anyhope--or fear--that I should find her at our journey's end. The lonesomepath that led only to the night-time forest, the deep and dark riverwith its mournful voice, the hard, bright, pitiless stars, the cold, theloneliness, the distance,--how should she be there? And if not she, whothen?
The hut to which I had been directed stood in an angle made by the neckand the main bank of the river. On one side of it was the water, onthe other a deep wood. The place had an evil name, and no man hadlived there since the planter who had built it hanged himself upon itsthreshold. The hut was ruinous: in the summer tall weeds grew up aroundit, and venomous snakes harbored beneath its rotted and broken floor; inthe winter the snow whitened it, and the wild fowl flew screaming in andout of the open door and the windows that needed no barring. To-nightthe door was shut and the windows in some way obscured. But theinterstices between the logs showed red; the hut was lighted within, andsome one was keeping tryst.
The stillness was deadly. It was not silence, for the river murmured inthe stiff reeds, and far off in the midnight forest some beast of thenight uttered its cry, but a hush, a holding of the breath, an expectanthorror. The door, warped and shrunken, was drawn to, but was notfastened, as I could tell by the unbroken line of red light down oneside from top to bottom. Making no sound, I laid my hand upon it, pushedit open a little way, and looked within the hut.
I had thought to find it empty or to find it crowded. It was neither.A torch lit it, and on the hearth burned a fire. Drawn in front of theblaze was an old rude chair, and in it sat a slight figure draped fromhead to foot in a black cloak. The head was bowed and hidden, the wholeattitude one of listlessness and dejection. As I looked, there came along tremulous sigh, and the head drooped lower and lower, as if in agrowing hopelessness.
The revulsion of feeling was so great that for the moment I was dazed asby a sudden blow. There had been time during the walk from the gaol forenough of wild and whirling thoughts as to what should greet me in thathut; and now the slight figure by the fire, the exquisite melancholy ofits posture, its bent head, the weeping I could divine,--I had but onethought, to comfort her as quickly as I might. Diccon's hand was uponmy arm, but I shook it off, and pushing the door open crossed the unevenand noisy floor to the fire, and bent over the lonely figure beside it."Jocelyn," I said, "I have kept tryst."
As I spoke, I laid my hand upon the bowed and covered head. It wasraised, the cloak was drawn aside, and there looked me in the eyes theItalian.
As if it had been the Gorgon's gaze, I was turned to stone. The filmyeyes, the smile that would have been mocking had it not been so veryfaint, the pallor, the malignance,--I stared and stared, and my heartgrew cold and sick.
It was but for a minute; then a warning cry from Diccon roused me. Isprang backward until the width of the hearth was between me and theItalian, then wheeled and found myself face to face with the King's latefavorite. Behind him was an open door, and beyond it a small inner room,dimly lighted. He stood and looked at me with an insolence and a triumphmost intolerable. His drawn sword was in his hand, the jeweled hiltblazing in the firelight, and on his dark, superb face a taunting smile.I met it with one as bold, at least, but I said no word, good or bad.In the cabin of the George I had sworn to myself that thenceforward mysword should speak for me to this gentleman.
"You came," he said. "I thought you would."
I glanced around the hut, seeking for a weapon. Seeing nothing morepromising than the thick, half-consumed torch, I sprang to it andwrested it from the socket. Diccon caught up a piece of rusted iron fromthe hearth, and together we faced my lord's drawn sword and a small,sharp, and strangely shaped dagger that the Italian drew from a velvetsheath.
My lord laughed, reading my thoughts. "You are mistaken," he declaredcoolly. "I am content that Captain Percy knows I do not fear to fighthim. This time I play to win." Turning toward the outer door, he raisedhis hand with a gesture of command.
In an instant the room was filled. The red-brown figures, naked save forthe loincloth and the headdress, the impassive faces dashed with black,the ruthless eyes--I knew now why Master Edward Sharpless had gone tothe forest, and what service had been bought with that silver cup. ThePaspaheghs and I were old enemies; doubtless they would find their taska pleasant one.
"My own knaves, unfortunately, were out of the way; sent home on theSanta Teresa," said my lord, still smiling. "I am not yet so poor that Icannot hire others. True, Nicolo might have done the work just now, whenyou bent over him so lovingly and spoke so softly; but the river mightgive up your body to tell strange tales. I have heard that the Indiansare more ingenious, and leave no such witness anywhere."
Before the words were out of his mouth I had sprung upon him, and hadcaught him by the sword wrist and the throat. He strove to free hishand, to withdraw himself from my grasp. Locked together, we struggledbackward and forward in what seemed a blaze of lights and a roaring asof mighty waters. Red hands caught at me, sharp knives panted to drinkmy blood; but so fast we turned and writhed, now he uppermost, now I,that for very fear of striking the wrong man hands and knives could notbe bold. I heard Diccon fighting, and knew that there would be howlingtomorrow among the squaws of the Paspaheghs. With all his might my lordstrove to bend the sword against me, and at last did cut me across thearm, causing the blood to flow freely. It made a pool upon the floor,and on
ce my foot slipped in it, and I stumbled and almost fell.
Two of the Paspaheghs were silent for evermore. Diccon had the knife ofthe first to fall, and it ran red. The Italian, quick and sinuous as aserpent, kept beside my lord and me, striving to bring his dagger to hismaster's aid. We two panted hard; before our eyes blood, within our earsthe sea. The noise of the other combatants suddenly fell. The hush couldonly mean that Diccon was dead or taken. I could not look behind tosee. With an access of fury I drove my antagonist toward a corner of thehut,--the corner, so it chanced, in which the panther had taken up itsquarters. With his heel he struck the beast out of his way, then madea last desperate effort to throw me. I let him think he was about tosucceed, gathered my forces and brought him crashing to the ground. Thesword was in my hand and shortened, the point was at his throat, when myarm was jerked backwards. A moment, and half a dozen hands had draggedme from the man beneath me, and a supple savage had passed a thong ofdeerskin around my arms and pinioned them to my sides. The game was up;there remained only to pay the forfeit without a grimace.
Diccon was not dead; pinioned, like myself, and breathing hard, heleaned sullenly against the wall, they that he had slain at his feet.My lord rose, and stood over against me. His rich doublet was torn anddragged away at the neck, and my blood stained his hand and arm. A smilewas upon the face that had made him master of a kingdom's master.
"The game was long," he said, "but I have won at last. A long good-nightto you, Captain Percy, and a dreamless sleep!"
There was a swift backward movement of the Indians, and a loud "Thepanther, sir! Have a care!" from Diccon. I turned. The panther, maddenedby the noise and light, the shifting figures, the blocked doors, thesight and smell of blood, the blow that had been dealt it, was crouchingfor a spring. The red-brown hair was bristling, the eyes were terrible.I was before it, but those glaring eyes had marked me not. It passed melike a bar from a catapult, and the man whose heel it had felt was fullin its path. One of its forefeet sank in the velvet of the doublet;the claws of the other entered the flesh below the temple, and toredownwards and across. With a cry as awful as the panther's scream theItalian threw himself upon the beast and buried his poniard in its neck.The panther and the man it had attacked went down together.
When the Indians had unlocked that dread embrace and had thrust asidethe dead brute, there emerged from the dimness of the inner room MasterEdward Sharpless, gray with fear, trembling in every limb, to take thereins that had fallen from my lord's hands. The King's minion lay inhis blood, a ghastly spectacle; unconscious now, but with life beforehim,--life through which to pass a nightmare vision. The face out ofwhich had looked that sullen, proud, and wicked spirit had been oneof great beauty; it had brought him exceeding wealth and power beyondmeasure; the King had loved to look upon it; and it had come to this. Helived, and I was to die: better my death than his life. In every heartthere are dark depths, whence at times ugly things creep into thedaylight; but at least I could drive back that unmanly triumph, and bidit never come again. I would have killed him, but I would not have hadhim thus.
The Italian was upon his knees beside his master: even such a creaturecould love. From his skeleton throat came a low, prolonged, croakingsound, and his bony hands strove to wipe away the blood. The Paspaheghsdrew around us closer and closer, and the werowance clutched me by theshoulder. I shook him off. "Give the word, Sharpless," I said, "or nod,if thou art too frightened to speak. Murder is too stern a stuff forsuch a base kitchen knave as thou to deal in."
White and shaking, he would not meet my eyes, but beckoned the werowanceto him, and began to whisper vehemently; pointing now to the man uponthe floor, now to the town, now to the forest. The Indian listened,nodded, and glided back to his fellows.
"The white men upon the Powhatan are many," he said in his own tongue,"but they build not their wigwams upon the banks of the Pamunkey. 1 Thesinging birds of the Pamunkey tell no tales. The pine splinters willburn as brightly there, and the white men will smell them not. We willbuild a fire at Uttamussac, between the red hills, before the temple andthe graves of the kings." There was a murmur of assent from his braves.
Uttamussac! They would probably make a two days' journey of it. We hadthat long, then, to live.
Captors and captives, we presently left the hut. On the threshold Ilooked back, past the poltroon whom I had flung into the river onemidsummer day, to that prone and bleeding figure. As I looked, itgroaned and moved. The Indians behind me forced me on; a moment, andwe were out beneath the stars. They shone so very brightly; there wasone--large, steadfast, golden--just over the dark town behind us, overthe Governor's house. Did she sleep or did she wake? Sleeping or waking,I prayed God to keep her safe and give her comfort. The stars now shonethrough naked branches, black tree trunks hemmed us round, and under ourfeet was the dreary rustling of dead leaves. The leafless trees gaveway to pines and cedars, and the closely woven, scented roof hid theheavens, and made a darkness of the world beneath.
1. The modern York.
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