CHAPTER XXVI
NIGHT
That terrible cadence preluded pandemonium, the hush of horror thatfollowed it being broken by one deep and awful roar of voices as theinsurgents, red, white, and black, joined forces and swept down upon thedevoted house.
"They will try the front first," quoth the master from his loophole."Steady, men, until I give the word! Now, let them have it with awannion!"
The muskets cracked and a louder yell arose from without.
"Two," said the master composedly, receiving a fresh musket from hisdaughter's hand.
"They will try to dash in the door, your Honor!" cried the overseer fromhis post of observation. "They have the trunk of a pine with them."
"Let them come," said his master grimly. "They will find a warmwelcome."
A double line of savages raised the great trunk from the ground andadvanced with it at a run, yelling as they came. They had reached thesteps leading up into the porch when from the loopholed door and windowwithin there poured a deadly fire. Three fell, but the battering-ramcame on and struck against the door with tremendous force. The doorheld, and but twelve of the twenty who had entered the porch returned totheir fellows.
"They won't try that again," said the master with a short laugh.
"They are dividing," cried the overseer. "They will surround the house.Every man to his post!"
Around the corner of the house to the moonlit sward beneath the greatroom windows swept a tide of Indians and negroes with Luiz Sebastian andthe two Ricahecrian brothers at their head. A few of the Indians hadguns; the slaves were armed with axes, scythes, knives--the plunder ofthe tool house--or with jagged pieces of old iron, or with oars takenfrom the boats and broken into dreadful clubs. They came on with a dinthat was terrific, the savages from the eastern hemisphere howling likethe beasts within their native forests, those from the western utteringat intervals their sterner, more appalling cry.
Within the great room Sir Charles, languidly graceful as ever, stoodbeside the small square opening in the door that led down into thegarden, and fired again and again into the mob without. He fought withan air as became the fine gentleman of the period, but underneath theelaborate carelessness of demeanor was a cool precision of action. Thehand that so nonchalantly brushed away the grains of powder from hiswhite ruffles, was steady enough at the trigger; the eye that turnedfrom the red death without to cast languishing glances at his mistresswhere she stood directing the women, was quick to note the minutestchange in savage tactics. He jested as he fought--once he drew atremulous wail of laughter from Mistress Lettice's lips.
A bullet sung through the aperture and grazed his arm. "The firstblood," he said, with a laugh.
"There's a man killed in the master's room and two in the hall!" criedyoung Whittington, from his post at the far window.
"And Margery," said Patricia, coming forward with the kerchief from herneck in her hand. "Let me bind up your wound, cousin."
He held out his arm with a smile and a few low, caressing words, and shewound the lawn that was not whiter than her face about it; then movedback to where the women worked, loading and passing the muskets to themen who kept up an incessant fire upon the assailants.
The whole house filled with smoke through which the figures of thebesieged loomed large and indistinct, and the noise--the crack of themuskets, the loud commands and oaths, the scream of a frightened womanor child, the groans of the wounded, of whom there were now many--becamedeafening. The attack was now general, and the men on each face hadtheir hands full. Without was horrible clamor, oaths, shots, yells,crashing blows against door and window; within was noise and confusion,and fear, stern and controlled, but blanching the lip of the men andshowing in the agony of the women's eyes.
Sir Charles, turning for a fresh musket, after a highly successful shotas the yell outside had testified, found Patricia at his elbow. "Thereare very few bullets left, cousin, and this is all the powder."
The baronet drew in his breath. "Peste! we are unfortunate! One of youmen go beg, borrow, or steal from the others."
Landless left his loophole in charge of the Muggletonian and wentswiftly into the hall, where he found the master, his wig off, his shirttorn, his face and hands blackened with powder, now firing with his ownhand, now shouting encouragement to the panting men.
"Powder and shot!" he cried. "God help us! are you out? Not a grain or abullet can we spare, for if we keep them not from the great door we aredead men!"
Landless went to the overseer. "Two more rounds and _we_ are out," saidWoodson coolly, firing as he spoke.
"There is no sign that they have had enough," said Landless, as theclamor outside redoubled, and a man fell heavily back from his loopholewith a bullet through his brain.
"Enough! Damn them, no!" said the overseer. "When they've had our livesthey will have had enough--not before! They're paying dearly for theirfun though."
Landless went back to the great room with empty hands.
"They are all in like case," he said, in answer to Sir Charles's liftedeyebrows.
The other shrugged his shoulders. "What will be, will be. If we couldhave saved our fire--but we had to keep them from the door! Get to yourpost, and we will hold them back as long as may be. Then a short passageto eternal nothingness!"
"A short passage!" muttered the Muggletonian at Landless's ear. "Wellfor those who find that at the hands of the uncircumcised heathen.Eternal nothingness! The fool hath said in his heart There is noGod--and he is being dashed headlong upon the judgment bar of the Godwho saith, I will repay. Cursed be the Atheist! May he find the passage,fiery though it be, as nothing to the flames of the avenging God; mayhe go to his appointed place where the worm dieth not and the fire isnot quenched; may--"
The trunk of a tree was dashed against the door with a force that shookthe room. "Dey're comin'!" shouted Regulus, who stood behind SirCharles, and raised the axe with which he was armed above his head.Another crash and the wood splintered. Through the ragged opening wasthrust a red hand--the axe, wielded by Regulus's powerful arms, flasheddownwards, and the hand, severed at the wrist, fell with a dull thudupon the floor. A yell from without, and another blow, widening theopening. Landless fired his last bullet into the crowd, and clubbing hismusket sprang to the door, in front of which were now massed all thedefenders of that side of the house. Sir Charles threw down his uselessmusket and drew his sword. "Cousin," he said over his shoulder toPatricia, standing white and erect in the midst of the cowering women,"you had best betake yourselves to the hall, and that quickly. This willbe no ladies' bower presently."
"Come," said Patricia to the women, and led the way towards the doorleading into the hall. As she passed Sir Charles she put out her hand,and he caught it, sunk to his knee, and pressed his lips upon it.
"I am going to my father," she said steadily, "and I shall pray him ashe loves me to pass his sword through my heart when they break into thehall. So it is farewell, cousin."
She drew her hand away and moved towards the door, passing Landless soclosely that her rich skirts brushed him, but without a change in thewhite calm of her face. The terrified women had pressed before her intothe hall, only Betty Carrington keeping by her side. Her foot was uponthe threshold, when with loud screams they surged back into the greatroom. A thundering crash in the hall was followed by a babel of oaths,screams, triumphant yells. The voice of the master made itself heardabove all the hubbub, "Charles, Woodson, Haines, they are upon us!Defend the women to the last, as you are men, all of you!"
The splintered plank between them in the great room and the murdererswithout was dashed inwards. An Indian, naked, horribly painted,brandishing a tomahawk, sprang through the opening, and Sir Charles ranhim through with his sword. A second followed, and Landless dashed hisbrains out with the butt of his musket. A third, and the Muggletonianstruck at him through the wildly flaring light and the drifting smokewreaths, and missed his aim. The knife of the savage gleamed high inair, then, descending, stuck quivering
in the breast of the fanatic. Hesunk to his knees, flung up his skeleton arms, and raised his scarredface, into which a light that was not of earth had come, then cried in aloud voice, "Turn ye, turn ye to the Stronghold, ye prisoners of Hope!"His eyes closed and he fell forward upon his face, his blood making theground slippery about the feet of the others.
Landless closed with the Indian, finally slew him, and turned to beholda stream, impetuous, not to be withstood, of Indians and negroes pouringthrough the doorway. From the hall came the clash of weapons and a mostterrific din, and presently there burst into the great room the Colonel,Laramore, Woodson, and Haines, followed by some fifteen men--making,with the five in the great room, all that were left of the defenders ofVerney Manor.
Prisoners of Hope: A Tale of Colonial Virginia Page 26
