CHAPTER III.
The rest of the day passed by like a long nightmare. The friar had usremoved to a small but strongly built hut, containing two rooms,separated by a thin partition of hides nailed to a row of upright studs.These were of squared timber, as was the floor also, and the outer frameand wall-plate. The roof and sides were overlaid with thatch; and therewas no window, only a square opening in the roof which admitted thelight, and also let out the smoke when a fire was built upon the floor.
As dark came on, two young Indian girls entered the hut, where we sat,bound, with our backs against the wall.
They seemed kindly disposed and gentle-mannered, for all theiroutlandish garb, which consisted of a petticoat of long gray moss, andstrings of little shells and beads of divers colours festooned about theneck.
They loosed Barbara and me, for which we were mightily grateful, as ourarms had grown numb and sore. We made signs that they should cut thebonds of the men also, which they declined to do. Yet they touched uswith gentle hands, and stroked our shoulders in token of their goodwill.
After this they brought wet clay and spread it upon the floor, and onthis laid a fire and kindled it; going forth again, they returned withfood and set it before us, making signs that we who were free shouldfeed the rest.
While I was serving my dear love--who made pitiable pretence of enjoyingmy ministrations--the friar entered the hut, accompanied by two otherswho were doubtless of mixed Spanish and Indian blood.
They bore with them heavy manacles and chains, which they fastened uponour men, cutting the leathern thongs which had held them until now.
Mr. Rivers demanded to know by whose orders this was done.
"For it would seem our true jailers are not the Indians. These fettersare of Spanish forging. Is it to your nation, padre, we are indebted forthis urgent hospitality?"
To this the friar made answer at great length, and what he said appearedto enrage our men, who broke forth in a round volley of oaths as soon asour jailers had left the hut. I turned to Mr. Rivers for explanation.
"'Tis as I supposed," he said, "and the friar is at the bottom of itall. He maintains now that in landing here and attempting to trade withthe Indians we have committed an offence against the sovereignty ofSanto Domingo, which claims all this coast as Spanish territory. TheseIndians, he declares, are under the protection of his government, andtherefore are not free to dispose of any goods to us English, or toreceive any favours at our hands; as such dealings would be to theprejudice of the Spanish rights and influence over this country.Therefore he has claimed us from the Indians and proposes himself tohold us prisoners, awaiting the decision of the Governor at SanAugustin."
As I look back now, it seems to me that in those first hours of ourcaptivity I grew older by many years. That gladsome morning, with itswilful moods and joyous daring, fell away back into the past, and seemedas unreal as the day-dreams of my childhood.
We slept that night, Dame Barbara and I, upon a soft and springy couchof moss piled in the little inner room. That is to say, we lay theresilently; but I think I scarce closed my eyes.
The wind, drifting through the gaping thatch, caught the loose corner ofa shrivelled strip of hide dangling on the rude partition wall, andkept it swinging back and forth, with a faint tap-tap, tap-tap, thewhole night long. As it swung outward I could catch fleeting glimpses ofthe little group huddled about the dying fire; and for hours I lay andlistened to the low murmur of their voices and the heavy clank andrattle of their chains.
Old Captain Baulk was in a garrulous mood, and he poured into thesailors' ears a horrid tale of how the Spaniards had massacred the firstFrench settlers on this coast.
"'Twas just about one hundred years ago," he droned in a gruesomewhisper. "Ribault's settlement was on the River May, somewhere in theselatitudes. There were about nine hundred of them in all, 'tis said,counting the women and children; and not one of them escaped. The bodiesof dead and wounded were alike hung upon a tree for the crows----"
"In God's name, hold your croaking tongue!" Mr. Rivers broke in angrily."'Tis bad enough for the women as things are, and if they overhear theseold wives' tales, think you it will make them rest easier?"
"Not old wives' tales, Mr. Rivers, but the fact, sir,--the bloody fact."
"Silence!" whispered my betrothed, in a voice that made me tremble,--forhe hath a hot temper when it is roused. "Unless thou canst hold thatill-omened tongue of thine, there presently will be another bloody factbetween thy teeth!"
A sudden silence fell. 'Twas broken finally by my dear love, whosegenerous nature soon repented of a harshly spoken word.
"I was over-hasty, my good Baulk; but I would not for the world haveMistress Tudor hear aught of those horrors. And times have changedgreatly in an hundred years. But this inaction, this inaction! 'Tisterrible upon a man!"
A suppressed groan accompanied the exclamation, and my heart ached forhim. It must indeed be hard for men--who are used to carving their ownfates and wresting from fortune their desires--suddenly to be forced toplay the woman's part of patient waiting.
The next day brought no relief.
From the windowless hut we could see naught of what passed without; butabout an hour before noon we heard a drum beat in the village. The soundgrew ever fainter, as though receding; then came the distant report ofmusketry, and we grew anxious for our people on the sloop. Hours passedby, and again came the sound of heavy firing, which gradually died awayas before.
Late in the afternoon we were joined by another prisoner, whom--from hisdress of skins--we mistook at first sight for a young Indian; but 'twasno other than the lad Poole, who was in Mr. Rivers's service and mostloyally attached to his master.
From him we learned that the Indians and some Spaniards had beenparleying with our men all day. He had swum ashore with a letter to thefriar, and had been received with kindness by the savages, who clad himafter their own fashion. The friar, however, vouchsafed him no reply;and after a time gave a signal to his men to fire on the sloop. Thearrows of the Indians and the muskets of the Spaniards had finallycompelled the _Three Brothers_ to weigh anchor and put out to sea.
Margaret Tudor: A Romance of Old St. Augustine Page 3
